#i've had this kicking around in my drafts for a while and wanted to finish it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

middlingmay · 23 days

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Birthday sex? Its Austin's birthday tomorrow so perfect occasion

Anon! I'm sorry this took me so long.

A while ago I asked for ideas for sexy scenes so I could practice writing them. Two of them helped me with an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and well. Here it is.

Bucky wears stockings, and Buck knows exactly how to feel about it.

It follows on several months after my Gale Cleven Never Learned to Flirt fic.

7K words of the spiciest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy (if you're over 18).

It was March. The nip in the air had lost most of its bite, but it still nibbled at the tips of your fingers and ears and nose. It shot a draft up any nook and cranny it could if you didn’t wrap up tight enough. It was rarely a problem for John. The military get up was top heavy. Always had been. After the Stalag it was one of the few things that kept his feet on the ground, so to speak, when the winter came around.

But the bottom half of a fella? Protected only by wool slacks and some socks and whatever underwear you were able to fit under it? There was a reason the boys on base stamped their legs when they came in from the cold. John knew his own legs had borne the brunt of the bad weather more than once.

But today John felt pretty toasty down there. It was a delightfully unintended side affect of this whole endeavour.

He’d wanted to do this sooner. Ever since last summer when Gale had let it slip. But the logistics were surprisingly difficult, and in the end he’d had to resort to some identity theft and prayed his older sister didn’t ever come to town and need to use that particular store.

Besides, they had something special to celebrate in March, so it all worked out.

Why he’d worn them to work, John still couldn’t quite explain to himself. He’d wanted to try them on, and they had looked so seamless under the bulk of his uniform that he just…hadn’t taken them off.

He wore them as he was hailed and saluted by the junior ranks when he arrived on base. He wore them when he and the other COs had their morning briefing and shared some smokes over their morning coffee. He wore them when arguing with Vickers about the game. He wore them when he reamed out a cadet for trying to take a plane on a joyride—the very same thing he and Buck had done when they were reckless kids.

And it had…done something for him. Maybe it was just because it was taboo, and it always tickled John to push at boundaries and see what he could get away with. Maybe he liked having a secret when everyone called him an open book (he wasn’t; not since coming back state side, not to anyone but Buck). Maybe he liked the duplicity of it. On one hand, the Lieutenant Colonel. On the other, the degenerate.

Or maybe it was none of that psychological bullshit at all. John had never worn silk before today, with the exception of a tie or a handkerchief or a parachute. But fuck if it didn’t feel nice against his skin. Against all of his skin.

He’d requested an early finish today to he could beat Buck home, and it was a good thing, too. The closer it came to finishing time, the harder it was for John to keep his composure.

He and Gale had come a long way since they made that final step in their physical relationship. John had been so frightened of pushing. He had assumed that Gale needed time to acclimatise to wanting a man like that, wanting John like that. But he’d been terrifically, blessedly wrong, and Gale had been wanting for longer than John had ever realised. They never balked at asking each other to try something new, but Gale had never revisited what he’d mentioned that day he mounted John in the living room, taking what he wanted.

But John would give Gale anything. Including this. His Buck might be a little unsure, might be a little hesitant to go for it, shy about his desires, but John would get him there. John would guide Gale’s hands to his thighs so his fingers could tickle at the hems. He’d show Gale how to grip his waist without risking the clasps coming undone. He’d walk him through just how tight he could pull the straps without them breaking. He’d show him how to be gentle so he didn’t rip the silk.

He’d show him everything.

But first, dinner.

Gale was the cook in their household. Through sheer determination John had started to take up baking. He’d only just managed to make barely passable cookies, and that was because he threw a frankly scandalous amount of sugar in there and loaded them up with chunky chocolate chips that hid a multitude of sins. But when it came to making actual meals, he was hopeless. He could boil water, heat soup, peel vegetables and fry bacon in the pan. But anything more complicated than that was Gale’s far more patient, focused, and diligent domain.

But not tonight. Tonight John had the jump on him.

He pulled up outside Jenny’s. They kept in touch with Macon (and Jefferson, though he was more Gale’s pen pal than John’s, pair of know-it-all's), and it turned out he had a friend who’s wife had a restaurant out here. Her husband hadn’t made it back, but before he left he’d promised her that after the war they were going to start the restaurant they’d always dreamed of. So she’d gone and done it for both of them, and she served some of the best food John had ever eaten. It was Gale’s number one choice every time he got to pick where they went out for dinner.

He’d called ahead and placed his order, and Jenny had it waiting for him as he slipped through the door and tried to weave his way through the crush of bodies.

A server waved him down. “Got your food Mr Egan. It’s hot—Jenny just sent it through.”

Louis. A good kid. Sharp kid. John handed him a couple of dollars tip. “I don’t know how she does it, Louis. Woman’s magic.”

“Don’t I know it.”

John beat a hasty retreat and buckled the bag of food into the passenger seat. It was precious cargo, and their night was not going to go the way John wanted if he let anything happen to dinner from Jenny’s.

He got home with fifteen minutes to spare. Plenty of time to change into fresh clothes and plate up.

He was just pouring himself some wine and Gale some cordial when the man himself walked in the door. His satchel looked heavy over his shoulder and his cheeks were pink from the evening chill. John was already smiling like a goddamn idiot just looking at him.

When Gale saw him standing next to a fully laid table complete with one solitary candle and smelled that tell tale aroma, he shucked his coat and his bag with a rarely seen haste.

“Did you get dinner? From Jenny’s?”

“Mhm,” John trilled sing-song and smug. “Your favourite.”

Gale inhaled a lungful and moaned like he could already taste it from the smell alone. His hands floated to John’s waist as he looked longingly at the food, and John managed to quickly set his hands further up his ribs without him noticing the redirection.

“What’s the special occassion?” Gale pulled him close and pressed their foreheads together. “S’nice.”

John grinned wide and toothy. “Happy birthday.”

Gale pulled back, brows furrowed and tick of a smile playing at his lips. “My birthday was in December.”

Didn’t he know it. It had been miserable this year. A couple days before Christmas and right as a cold snap had hit them. It was the coldest the year had been so far, and they’d barely had it in them to celebrate. Instead they’d cooked as much food as they could, piled the fire high and burrowed themselves under blankets and pillows and each other. They’re refused to allow a single pang of hunger or chill of the cold get anywhere near them.

“Gale Cleven’s birthday was in December,” John corrected him. “Buck’s is in March.”

Realisation dawned with eyes sparkling like the sea in broad daylight from the cockpit of a B-17.

“We met in March 19—”

“1940. Happy seventh birthday, Buck.”

Gale wrapped his arms around John’s neck and kissed him slow and sweet. Warm like the glow of the fire they enjoyed in winter evenings. There was the barest, slightest hint of a pull, like Gale had to stop himself from drawing John’s lips into his mouth, into the waiting nip of his teeth.

He pulled back and set his forehead against John’s, his own smile a goofy match. “You’re a sap, John Egan.”

“Your sap.”

John got one more kiss before Gale was pulling away eagerly sitting down to their meal. To this day, watching Gale eat hale and hearty filled John with a joy he couldn’t quite describe.

Their meal passed with pleasant chatter, mostly led by Gale between bites as John tried to keep his focus on the good food and better company. But in his excitement, and a little nervousness, his leg was bouncing. And he could feel the slip of silk against his skin again.

“You haven’t paid attention to a word I said, have you?”

John’s eyes snapped back to Gale’s, who was trying not to laugh at him.

“Am I boring you?”

John licked his lip. “Far from it.”

Draining the last of his drink, Gale got up and stepped around the table to stand before John. John’s legs opened to let Gale slip between them. He tilted his head back as far as it could go as Gale stepped as close as he could get.

“Something else on your mind?” Gale’s voice was low and coy. Playful. John liked him playful.

“I got something else for you.” John tipped forward and kissed the flat of Gale’s stomach through his shirt, softer on account of their meal. “But it’s not for out here.”

That pricked at Gale’s curiosity. John wasn't one of those folks who thought sex was between them, the bedroom, and the Lord. They’d made it in every room in the house. So, for him to confine it to the bedroom tonight. Well, Gale wanted to know. Needed to know.

“Alright then. Take me upstairs.”

John obeyed the one and only command he expected Gale to be able utter tonight. They had an equal amount of give and take when it came to sex. They both liked being in charge and giving it up depending on their mood. But John knew this was going to be so far outside of Gale’s experience that he’d be the one leading tonight. And he liked the thought. Loved it, even, of being the steady hand behind Gale’s pleasure.

Inside their room, John flipped the lock and Gale’s brows kissed his hairline. But before Gale could ask the questions John could see brewing in that big ol’ noggin, he leaned against the door, hands clasped behind his back and pushed his hips out. A summons Gale had never been able to refuse.

And he didn’t now.

Gale's long, supple hands gripped his hips with a strength that always sent John into a tail spin. People saw Gale’s pretty face and often jumped to the wrong conclusions. He was wicked, sharp, fast, and strong, and more than capable of putting John down when he had to. It was a heady thrill to have that type of strength panting for you, whimpering for you. And that was John’s goal by the end of the night.

Gale swept his hands round to cup and grab at John’s ass, but John laced their fingers together before he could get there. “You missed something,” he said, drawing Gale’s hands up towards his waist.

Gale's pout was cute, and John wanted to pull at it with his teeth. But he wouldn't do anything to miss this moment. He didn’t even blink as Gale touched and traced and explored his body until he caught it. There. A deepening crease between his eyes as Gale felt something covering the thick, meaty softness of John’s waist. He watched Gale’s eyes close as he concentrated, following the line as he figured out it went all the way around. He watched Gale look down as he tried to gauge the thickness of it.

Then he watched that gorgeous fuckin’ mouth drop open and heard the sharp hitch of breath as Gale realised what he was touching.

“You didn’t think I forgot, did you?”

Gale’s fingers dug in. A couple of them slipped under the top of the garter belt, taking fingerfulls of John’s shirt with it. Quick puffs of air fell against John’s lips and Gale’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he stared at John’s waist.

“Hey, it’s okay.” John stroked up Gale’s arms until he could cup Gale’s neck and squeezed it in a soothing beat. “I know it’s new. But we don't have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. And I’ll talk you throu—”

“John.” It was said with a bolt of steel that straightened John’s spine. He hadn’t heard that voice come out of Gale since they’d last disciplined replacements together in England. It had his cock hard and throbbing behind the delicate little panties so quick he near felt dizzy.

“You’ll talk when you’re spoken to. Do you understand?”

The door clacked as John slumped back against it. He felt a fine tremor start to warm and thrum in the muscles of his thighs. He wondered if Gale could see it? The way his eyes were focused on John like Gale was some great prowling beast and John the tasty morsel made him feel like Gale could see right through John's clothes, to the treat that awaited him.

Gale dragged his fingers, still just easing past the eaves of the garter belt, over the fabric on John’s shirt, around to the divots of his waist. He grabbed a better handful and tugged, testing the tautness, the tension, and the pull. Then John was yanked forward by his waist, the belt biting into his skin and straining under the strength of Gale’s hands. The pinch of the fabric had him gasping against Gale’s mouth as he smirked at John.

“I said, do you understand. Doll?”

John’s mouth fell open and a groan fell out. He let it roll out on his tongue as he tried to slip it against the petal-like softness of Gale’s lips. But Gale saw it coming and pulled back, and John tried not to whine like a dog.

Because he didn’t understand. He didn’t understand at all. He was supposed to help Gale fulfill one of his fantasies. He was supposed to lead and guide Gale through the experience and help him discover new realms of pleasure. He was going to watch Gale fall apart because of him.

But that wasn’t the Gale staring down at him now as he leaned into John’s space and had his back arching against the door. This Gale was in charge, in control, and ready to order his subordinate at his will.

How many women had John called doll in his lifetime? How many times had he said it to Gale and watched his cheeks pinken and eyes darken?

But oh, he got it now.

John nodded so hard his head smacked against the door, and Gale chuckled low and syrupy.

“Easy, sweetheart. Need you clear headed for this. For now.”

That’ll be a fuckin’ miracle, John thought.

Gale stepped back and John went to follow until a sharp click in Gale’s throat stopped him dead. Gale retreated backwards to the bed, eyes fixed on John, thumbing open the buttons of his shirt collar until the back of his knees touched the bed.

Slowly, he sank down with his legs spread wide, almost obscene like the way young men do when they have something to prove. But Gale didn’t have to prove a damn thing. He just wanted John’s attention, and he had it. John eyed the endless stretch of Gale’s legs, perfect for wrapping around his waist, or hooking over his shoulder, or driving John were Gale wanted him as he flexed his thighs. John knew their valleys intimately, from the delicate knob of his ankle to the mouth-watering bulge of his cock.

But John didn’t see that bulge now. He stamped down the little flash of disappointment that sparked up. He’d just have to work a little harder. Gale hadn’t seen anything yet, after all.

“You said you got a treat for me?” Gale’s voice was that deep and trembling bass he got that tightened John’s skin and made his insides quiver.

“Yeah,” he barely managed to whisper.

“Show me.”

John had never been one for following orders. But he’d never balk at Gale’s. That particular command gave him some of his Egan charm and bravado rushing back. A natural born showman, he was. And his man wanted a performance.

If he knew tonight was going to go in this direction, he would have found a good station on the radio, or put the record player on loud enough to filter up to the bedroom. But as it was, the only music he had was the warm creak of well-worn, trodden-soft floorboards; the soft shushing slip of his clothes as he ran his fingers down the length of his chest, into the v of his hips, into the flesh of his thighs. His only rhythm was the hammering of his heart, the breaths that hitched and gasped no matter how hard he tried to control them, and Gale’s minute shifts on the bed that sounded deafening tucked away secret in their room.

John traced his fingers back up from his knees to his hips, and he caught Gale’s finger stroking the bedsheets as he watched. John snagged the edges of his shirt and, using the flat of his palm just like he did doing yard work on a hot day, rucked the bottom of his shirt up to show Gale a flash of skin he loved so well. There was barely a day that went by that John didn't have some form of love bite fading on the skin of his belly.

But he showed Gale much more than that. After his rough handling earlier, one side of the garter belt had risen and settle higher on his hip, and now it peeked above the band of John’s slacks. John hadn't liked the belts that looked like a bolt of stretched, shiny fabric. Instead, he’d gotten one with semi-transparent windows against his flesh that let the pale skin peek through the opaque blackness. Stiff, geometric lines ran parallel, and pierced and broke up those glimpses. Gale was going to love it.

Gale’s hands clutched the covers underneath him in bunches as he glimpsed the little peek of the belt jutting over his hip, before John let his shirt fall back.

Gale’s eyes snapped to him and John caught the briefest flash of not-quite-anger, but heat. It was John’s favourite thing: testing that famous Cleven patience until it broke. Because Gale broke good.

“I said show me, John. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

John’s cock had been straining against the lake and silk on his panties for a while now. But the edge in Gale’s voice, the demand tinged with a hint of desperation? It jerked near painfully against its delicate confines, and John felt the sticky drops of his precum leak between flesh and silk, melding them together.

Fuck, he wanted to make Gale repeat himself.

His fingers trembled as he undid his shirt, button by button. He made sure to touch and pet each inch of skin as he slowly peeled his shirt open down the middle. He toyed on the last button a little, fingered the curve of it, rubbed it against his belly, until Gale leaned forward and opened his mouth to tell John off. But John didn’t let him get there. With a flick he undid the last button, but caught the edges of his shirt before they could fall away and it stole up Gale’s breath just like it snatched away what the younger man really wanted.

Holding the bottom corners of his shirt in one hand, John teasingly drew them down his torso and dipped them into the top of his slacks. He held his hand there a second, and pulled the shirt down tighter, stretching the fabric against the width of his shoulders and the expanse of his chest which he knew Gale loved. But the temptation was too much. He’d been achingly hard since Gale got the drop on him and it was right there. John pushed his hand down further before Gale could tell him to stop and almost sobbed as he pressed into the coil of his cock stuffed into too-small panties.

“Stop, John.”

John’s laugh was breathy and high. No fuckin’ way was he going to stop at the barest hint of relief. If he didn’t give himself something, he was going to blow untouched like some green kid.

But Gale wasn’t playing, and his next words were laden heavy with warning. “I said. Stop.”

John did, but didn’t remove his hand. Gale’s eyes were dark and hard and glinting with a side he didn’t trust anyone but John with. But God, John was desperate. It was no secret that he loved attention, but being under Gale’s scrutiny like this was almost too much. Almost.

“Please, Buck,” he sighed, shameless in his need. “I can’t… I just need a little…” He trailed off into a groan as his hand cupped and caressed his cock again.

He managed to open his eyes and Gale was half way to him from the bed. He was glowering, disappointed in John, and his jaw was tight.

Christ. He was in trouble, now.

Without a word, without looking away from John’s eyes, Gale pulled on John’s wrist and yanked his hand out of his pants. The fabric of his slacks roughed up John’s hand a little and he hummed at the pleasant burn. He went to rub it gently with his other, but Gale snatched that one up too and held them tight and unforgiving.

He gently knocked his forehead into John’s and let the tips of their noses brush.

“I know you can listen better than that, John. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”

John grit his teeth. He did. He did want to be good. He always wanted to make it good for his Buck. But he wasn’t sure he could, he was so worked up. It had been building all day, bubbling and simmering and ready to boil over with just the slightest crank in the heat.

And Gale hadn’t even kissed him yet. Not since they came into the bedroom. Had barely touched him. John dared to pant into Gale’s mouth, but no further.

“Please, Buck.”

Gale tutted, the clack of his tongue like lead shot in his belly. “Poor baby. You just need a little help, right sugar?”

God, yes. He just needed Gale to touch him, just enough. Just until his head stopped swimming and he could do for Gale what he’d been planning all day.

Gently, like he might if John were a woman, Gale kissed him. Short, sweet, feather light kisses at first. And when John pushed harder, he allowed it. He pushed John’s hands behind his back and squeezed his wrists; a silent command to keep them there. But he would. He could be good now Gale was giving him something.

Gale let the very tips of their tongues touch in the barest hint of a caress before he gentled the kiss again. John keened but drank up every taste of Gale’s lips he could get, all sweet with cordial. Gale’s hands slid up his chest and over his shoulders and dragged John’s shirt down and down. John sighed into Gale’s mouth with relief. He’d foregone an undershirt when he changed after coming home from work, and was grateful for it now. The air of the room was cool against his heated skin, and he felt it tighten with goosebumps and shivered pleasantly.

Gale kissed his way from the corner of John’s mouth along the square jut of his jaw and down the thick column of his neck. John bared it all until he felt the skin stretch across the base of his throat with a tightness that told you that was enough. Gale suckled and nibbled on John’s skin just, just, below where his shirt collars sat. He tugged and tugged and John’s shirt, and John wriggled and helped him get it down to his wrists.

And he felt the pearly hardness of Gale’s teeth against his neck as he grinned.

“Atta boy, Johnny.”

Gale grabbed John’s shirt tight and yanked and pulled and twisted. John couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he was finished, wearing a pleased, satisfied smile as he took John’s face in his hands and kissed him sweet and full, John went to draw up his own hands so he could touched the beautiful planes of Gale’s face. But they were stuck fast.

Gale pulled back and his smirk was a small and wicked thing.

“You needed help,” he said and John tugged fruitlessly at the bond Gale had made of his shirt around his wrists. “That should help you behave.”

The groan that kicked out of John’s chest was bestial. He bit down hard on his lip and slumped into Gale, who laughed at him and petted his hair.

“It’s not too tight,” he asked, kissing the shell of John’s ear.

John shook his head dumbly against Gale’s shoulder.

“Mm. Good.”

John’s stomach swooped, that pleasant, almost arousing way it did on your first flight, as Gale ducked suddenly and John was left swaying there, trying to keep himself steady. But seeing Gale Cleven on his knees in front of you, smiling like the devil incarnate with fingertips plucking at the teeth and tongue of your belt, was as far from steady as a man could get.

Gale made mercifully short work of John’s belt. His button was yanked open so hard John thought it might pop, and his zipper was thurst harshly down. Gale shoved John’s slacks over his hips, and—

And stopped.

Gale could see the garter belt now. He traced those pretty black geometric lines with his fingers. He scratched along where it met the skin of John’s torso. He thumbed the opaque segments like he was testing to see if he could really feel John’s skin through them.

Then he unwrapped John like he was the birthday present he’d been waiting for all day. Gale carefully tugged John’s slacks down so he could see the ties properly. Strips of silk with tiny delicate bows stitched on. Gale tumbled forward on his knees like he was drunk, and nosed the line they ran from the garter belt down into spaces still hidden by John’s clothing. Gale nuzzled so close that the ties pressed into his skin.

John felt his panting breaths in the crook where his belly met his groin. He felt wet heat pulse from his cock and thanked God his hands were tied, because otherwise he may have grabbed a handful of Gale’s hair and put him to work.

“S’pretty, John,” Gale whispered, reverent and adoring. John felt it like the zap of a live wire. His whole body flushed, and there was very little left on him to hide it. He’d never been called pretty a day in his life.

Gale eased John’s slacks over the sizeable curve of his ass and down his thighs, until finally John’s panties were revealed and the very tips of the stockings. And that seemed all Gale could take. He fell face first onto John’s silk covered cock with a pained, eager sound. His hands scrabbled to pull John’s trousers off the rest of the way, shoving them down to John’s ankles and cursing when he had to pull away to tear Bucky’s socks off, too.

Until finally, John stood before a worshipful Gale, garter belt tight around his waist, ties good and tight, panties straining and wet, and stockings encasing his thick thighs and strong, long legs.

Suddenly, Gale’s eyes were large and wide and shiny wet. His lips pouty and half open. Like he might cry. “I don’t…” He shook his head as he gazed at John. “I don’t know how to deserve you, John Egan. I don’t know how…”

Gale’s hands grasped desperately at John’s legs, stroking and slipping all over the silk stockings. He was untethered, unmoored, and John had the passing thought that it was good neither of the joined the navy since they both needed anchoring so bad.

John gave Gale a slow crooked smile. “Just breathe, baby. That’s all.”

Gale closed his eyes and something wild tore out of John when Gale bit at the edge of his panties and pulled at them with his teeth until they snapped back into place with a sting.

Then John was in the air. Gale grabbed John’s thighs and bolted upright, hauling John over his shoulder. John yelped at the display of strength, positive Gale could feel the way his cock throbbed against his shoulder. He felt Gale’s hands worry at the panty line on his ass and land a hard, solid smack on the exposed flesh around the triangle of silk that hardly covered his ass. Then his world was tilting and Gale threw him on the bed. When John looked up at him, bouncing on the mattress, arms still behind his back, Gale’s eyes were raw and wild.

“Just breathe,” he repeated John’s words back at him as he petted the top of the stockings. “You best remember that.”

He slipped his hands underneath John’s arms and sat him up. A few rearrangements later and John was being pushed against a soft wall of pillows so he could look comfortably down to where Gale sat between his sprawling legs.

“Comfy?”

John tugged at his bindings. They were tight but not painful. And he had enough movement that his shoulders and elbows didn’t bear the strain.

“Like a kitten on a cloud.”

Gale gave him his favourite smile, apple-cheeked and from under lowered lashes. It made John want to grab and squeeze and bite him. But he couldn’t do any of that right now and had to lie there under Gale’s weighty, considering gaze and take whatever he was about to be given.

Gale's hands smoothed over John’s chest. His fingers traced under the ridge of his collar bones. The heel of his hands pressed into the bud of John’s nipples, dragging against them in their exploration and John arched his back and pushed into it. Gale dragged his nails down John’s ribs and it made him squirm and wiggle, but with the way Gale had him boxed in and trapped on the bed he had no where to go. So he had to writhe and tremble and take it, the slight scratch of pain the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

Gale's hands finally came to rest at John’s hips, and his thumbs rubbed soothing circles into his hipbones. And John knew what came next. If he knew anything, he knew what came next.

Gale swooped down and mouthed over soft, giving skin of John’s stomach. John moaned his relief loud and unrepentant, gratified there was at least one thing he’d been able to predict about tonight.

The bite of Gale’s teeth rained down with his mouthing kisses. A shiny, slick trail dotted Gale’s path around the proof of their recovery over the past couple of years. He sucked in mouthfuls of John’s flesh until the skin tingled and throbbed and red and purpling patches staked his claim.

“You know," Gale murmured between tastes. "Some of the guys at college brag about how tight their girls can cinch their waists. I couldn’t help but find that strange.” He wrapped his long hands around John’s waist, something pleasant rumbling in his chest when they came nowhere close to touching. “Why would you brag about your girl going hungry? Hm? Wanna keep you full, John. Want my girl’s waist nice and thick and strong. So I know I’m sating her good.”

In more ways than one, John hoped. “Please,” he hissed and Gale’s hand’s dug tighter into his waist. “You do. You do. So good, Buck. Take such good care of me. Please—”

Gale cut him off with a kiss, a good and real kiss, and John felt the wet roll of moisture falling from the corner of his eyes that he hadn’t realised had been building. He wanted to wrap his arms around Gale, to bury his fingers in his hair and trace the sharpness of his jaw, but his hands were still tied uselessly behind him. So he could only sit there as Gale tilted his head back and pressed him as far into the pillows as he could get and kissed him deeper. The tip of his tongue dragged all the way down to the crest of John’s, right at that ridge that took the plunge down into John’s throat. Gale licked the underside of his tongue on his way back, sucking it into his mouth, then nipping on John’s lips, before plundering him all over again.

John could scarce breathe. He didn’t want to, if this was how he was going to go. It wasn’t until one of Gale’s hands pushed hard down on John’s hips that he realised he’d been rutting like an animal, fruitlessly trying to get some friction against Gale but meeting air.

Gale pulled back with one last tug on John's lip and said, “I think I’d like my present now.”

John fell back with a flump. His eyes followed Gale’s hands. They moved up first to tug and yank on the garter belt a little and see how far he could lift John with it. The muscles in Gale’s forearm flexed as he tested it, and finally dropped John back down with a satisfied smile. Then his hands smoothed over the dotted mess he’d made of John’s belly. And just when John thought Gale was finally going to touch him, was finally going to bring him some kind of relief he needed so badly, Gale swerved his hands around the triangle of John’s panties to scrape down his thighs instead.

John swore and lifted his leg to kick at Gale, but he caught him easy.

“Be nice,” he drawled and pressed his thumb into the arch of John’s foot.

“You be nice! I’m dying, here.” Gale looked down to where John’s cock had made a valiant effort to escape his underwear. The flushed, red head peeked out from the bottom, pressed between his thigh, the silk, and John’s balls which had drawn tight, below.

“I can see that. But this was for me, wasn’t it?”

John bit his tongue and groaned harsh and grumbling.

“Wasn’t it?”

John sulked. “Yes.”

“Yes what?”

Another splatter of moisture fell from him and dropped onto the hairs on his thigh. “Yes, sir.”

Gale grinned sharp and toothy, and raised the leg he still held to his shoulder.

Heedless of John’s predicament, Gale turned his face, now lax and blissful, to rub his cheek against John’s ankle. Gently he kissed the bone and mouthed the silk of the stockings, catching that little piece of extra fabric that stretched between the peak of the ankle bone and the flat of his leg between the blunt edges of his front teeth. Just a bite then he let it go, before chasing it with his tongue, swirling around the bony mound and feeling the texture of the stockings.

John had never noticed before with how Gale was so appreciative of every part of him. But he was starting to get the suspicion that his fella might, might, be a leg man.

Gale’s fingers traced down the line of the seam, humming in approval at the military precision of its straightness. Resting John’s leg on his shoulder, he thumbed at the crook of John’s knee with one hand, and with the other kneaded the tense, hard muscles of John’s calf.

The noise John let out was wounded and obscene. “Holy—fuck, Buck. Oh…God that’s good.”

Gale continued to take John apart, teasing the tension out of his muscles and pushing mercilessly down on any knots he found. John was dragging air in through his teeth, whimpering and yelling when Gale locked on a particularly tender knot. And the whole time a constant trickle of viscous, warm pre dropped from his cock and collected in valley of his panties. It had built to the point that every time he shifted, he felt the sticky, squidgy mess against his balls and his taint. He was wet like a woman and Gale hadn’t even touched him there yet.

Gale pressed those lush, plump lips of his in an adoring trail up the inside of John’s leg. He licked and bit, careful not to snag the stockings. When he reached the hem, where black silk gave away to the creamy paleness of John’s thigh dotted with glossy black coils of hair, Gale moaned low in his throat and pushed his face into the crook between thigh and groin. John desperately snatched Gale up in the vice of his thighs and tried to drag him closer to his cock. And for one glorious moment, Gale allowed it. He tipped open-mouthed onto John’s satin covered cock until he could feel the lapping of Gale's tongue against the panties.

“Fuck, Gale, please. That’s it—right there.”

Gale moaned against him and the vibrations kicked John's belly to quivering and his thighs starting shaking, too. God he was going to embarrass himself but it’s be worth it. So fuckin’ worth it—

Gale tore his face away, breathing heavy and climbed back up the length of John's body. No mean feat as John, furious and choking on his own arousal, tried to drag him back down with the power of his legs alone.

But the kiss Gale gave him soothed him some, filthy and wet and slick, and with none of the finesse they’d learned over the years.

“John,” he rumbled into the underside of his jaw. “God, the things you do to me.” He rolled his hips hard against John’s, and his belly dropped so sharp he was sure he was about to come.

“Gale. I—I—”

A piercing sting nipped at the lobe of John’s ear then Gale’s voice was murmuring against him, sending tremors down his body. “You’re right there, aren’t you, John? Right fucking there. Me too, baby. Know how good you look? Fuck, me too.”

But just as John teetered on that precipice, as his eyes blurred with tears of pleasure, Gale stopped and pulled away, and John let out an embarrassing squeal.

“No! No, no, Gale, I was—I was—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Gale soothed him, petting hair damp with sweat. “I know.” He rained kisses along his forehead. “Just a little longer, yeah. Wanna get a good look at you.”

He dropped a final kiss to John's nose and leaned back, kneeling between John’s thighs high on his waist, thumbing the sides of the panties.

“I’ll be sorry to lose, ‘em.” Gale eyed the thick band at the top of John’s stockings, lingering on where the clips bit into the fabric and pulled at them, keeping them up. They’d performed a valiant service this evening, but their time had come. “But I think you’ve been patient enough.”

With a fierce yank, the render of ripping fabric pierced the room as Gale yanked the clips out of the stockings, ripping the delicate silk. It tore another groan out of John and seemed to finally unseat Gale’s patience. He shoved the garter belt higher up John’s waist, and tore his stockings down, deepening the rips. The way Gale’s hands tightened over the split fabric, John came to the heady realisation that Gale had done it on purpose.

And then finally, finally, Gale tucked his fingers into John’s panties and pulled them down.

The air hitting his cock had John gasping and thrusting into nothing. He heard Gale choke on his own breath before he pushed John’s hips down with his palm, soothing him like he would an animal.

When John could focus enough to look at him, Gale was gazing at him with nothing short of wonder.

“Shit, look at you John.” Gale marvelled over the mess he’d made of himself. “You look like you’ve come already.” God, he might have. This whole time leaking in a steady stream of unbearable heat, maybe he’d been coming the whole time.

“Gale for God—fuckin’ please. I can’t take this. I can’t take this anymore. I’m begging ya. I’ll do anything.”

And Gale, eyes wide and brimming with something heady, something he kept banked and rarely let blaze out like this, and looking fucking ruined for it, shoved the blunt of his knee up into John’s crotch. The perfect mixture of blinding pressure and the tiniest pinch of skin, and John was writhing and thrashing, getting every ounce of friction he could take. He didn't even know what sounds were coming out of his mouth—babbling, whining, shrieking, it didn’t matter so long as Gale didn’t stop.

And thank God this time he wasn’t going to. Gale’s own crotch was mercy to John’s frantic, frenzied movement. He trembled down the length of his spine and the slender curve of his legs. His arms shook where he held himself over John. He felt his lips quiver as the heat bubbling in his gut frothed and spat and he felt the tingling at the base of his spine that told him his end was coming. But God, he’d see John there first. He would.

He weaved a hand into John’s hair and yanked his ear up to his mouth. “You’re so goddamn beautiful baby. My woman, getting all pretty for me? I nearly came at the damn sight of you. While all the fellas at college are complaining about their girls, I get to tell them how mine fed my favourite meal and served it in silk.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Buck.”

He felt the solid lines of John’s body start to lock. His back arched in a deep valley. All tell tale signs Gale knew like a bedtime story.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it, sugar. Y’look so pretty when you come. Lemme see. Let me—”

For all John’s loudness, Gale had worked him past words. His mouth opened in a silent scream, his lungs ceased to draw in air, and his eyes rolled up past thick lashes as he finally came. Hot spurts of seed lashed over his belly, and Gale drooled at the thought of cleaning him up, a line of spit pooling down into the mess. As Gale kept rocking and pressing into him, John kept coming. When finally dragged in ragged gasping breaths, there wasn’t a bit of him that wasn’t shaking. Gale didn’t want to miss a bit of it, but he was barely able to undo John's bonds with one hand, so he could feel John's touch on him, before his own orgasm hit him. It felt as violent as being torn from a plane. His vision whitened and he used John's body, his jerking, twitching, vulnerable spent body to ride out and milk every last drop from himself, until he mewling, pathetic and sensitive.

John was petting his hair and whispering in his ear when he came back to himself.

“It’s okay. That’s it. I’ve got you. You did so good, Buck. That’s it. You back with me?”

Gale nodded into the crook of John's neck and snuggled closer. He powered through the flinch that rocked both of them as the sensitive skin of their cocks brushed. But nothing could pull him away from John at this moment.

John kissed Gale’s hair and without even looking, Gale could feel the grin against his scalp.

“Happy birthday, Buck.”

“Mm.” Gale felt the loose, hazy drag of sleep put weight in his limbs and on his eyelids. He let them droop shut, but before he let sleep and the warm cradle of John's arms take him, he managed: “John?”

“Mhm?”

“We’re going to need more stockings.”

#clegan #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #erm I don't really know what to say here lads #hope you like it??

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ssivinee · 9 months

Text

✧Elapsed✧

BEBE! Bada Lee x F Reader: Two girls whose families were close at one point, but when their families lost touch, the girls almost forgot the other existed. You are just in time for their party, where you will perform and meet up with the past.

Word Count: 5k

Note: Tatter is portrayed as a MAJOR bitch in this so PLEASE do not take this seriously. this one has also been in my drafts for so long. OH and pov switches in this🤓. everyone's ages are also adjusted to the early 20s. the reader is older than Bada.

TW: Pertains smoking, alcohol usage, catholic religion?????

ANNOUNCEMENT: Reqs are closed for now!

Character Vision Board

"Are you telling me you came home last night, and the first thing you did was party with Haechan?" Yena asks as she sits on your bed with Yunah sitting at your desk, continuing to study for her finals. "I couldn't help it, okay? He asked me while picking me up, and I just went for it."

"Let her be. She came back from a work trip, dude," Yunah rolled her eyes at her sister.

"This is why you never ask Haechan for a favor. You're just gonna party at the end of the day."

You begin to text your cousin as you laugh at the two girls.

This made you laugh. "Dude, these finals are gonna kick my ass; I can already feel it in my bootyhole," Yunah complains, and while her sister gives her a disgusted face, you stifle a laugh, just staring at the two.

"I'm gonna have to head out soon, but you two can just wait for Jieun unnie if you want?" "Nah, I wanna study in the comfort of my room."

"Well, I have to make up a choreo for this week's dance class, so I'm just gonna head out as well."

The sisters began to pack and head out, hugging you as they exited the apartment. You started to change into a black velvet tracksuit set with just a white tank top underneath, then put on some slides as you drove to the studio.

When entering the building, you checked in and went to the room to see Soobin and Jihoon chilling on the black couch. "Hey~ Welcome back," Soobin hugs you as Jihoon continues writing in his notebook. "You can't even look away from the lyrics FOR TEN SECONDS to greet me, your ass," you say as he feels a slap on his head, forcing his cap downward, causing him to sigh.

"My bad, I've been struggling with this song and must finish it by Friday."

"When are you never struggling, dude?" You question as you tie your hair up into a messy bun. With the statement, Hoon flicks you off, causing a laugh to arise. "All jokes aside, why do you need it done by Friday? You never have a deadline for your music."

"It's for Mrs. Lee's birthday party," Soobin says casually, but you grow shocked at the familiar surname. "The Lees?"

"Bada reached out to me through Instagram, telling me she wanted a mini-concert for the surprise birthday party."

You think for a second. You remembered the girl's name but had not heard it for years.

The memories of hanging out with her often were there when you were kids since your families were close, but as you grew up, both sides drifted apart for some unknown reason.

"They said we're all invited too," Jihoon states while quickly writing notes. "Is that so?" You ask, confused, but the two nod in confirmation.

"Well, this weekend is gonna be interesting."

A WEEK BEFORE...

"So why is she coming out with us later rather than now?" Minah questions as she points at me as Bada paces around the room. "She's preparing for her mom's birthday party... Have you not been listening to her the past few weeks?" Lusher counters at the girl, pairing it with a massive eye roll.

"I have to get the invitations out and find some music," Bada mumbled, biting her lip in anxiety. "You still haven't found anyone?" Tatter asks her, and she shakes her head, "Why not try asking Park Jihoon?"

The tall dancer stares at her with a puzzled look as she shows her phone, "Park who?"

"You don't know Park Jihoon?" CheChe asks the older while thumping her forehead. "She barely knows anybody but us. What did you guys expect?" Minah points out while applying her gloss.

"Jihoon is super known on campus for his music. He has songs that aren't provocative, and he does small concerts at parties if you ask and pay him."

Kyma explains as you begin playing a few songs that didn't have the explicit next to them, and Bada admits that she found a good tracklist for the party already, plus she thought her mom would like it. "Alright, I guess I have to reach out."

She DMs Jihoon on Twitter, and thankfully, he responds within a minute.

"Well, he said yes, quick," She told the girls, and Minah shrieked. "We really get to meet Jihoon???" Lusher asks, almost as excited. "Yeah, and he says I don't even have to pay him; he just asked to bring his partners and friends."

"So strangers? Maybe you should ask him for names," Sowoen shares worryingly, and Bada agrees, going back to texting him.

While waiting for Jihoon's list, Bada returned to her computer, checked the lists of people, and sent out invites. That was until her phone got a notification. Since Tatter had her face ID on the phone, she opened it immediately to see Jihoon's friends.

"Bada... you're gonna have to see this," Tatter tells her surprisingly, causing the other girls to look at us curiously.

She rushingly checked the DM to find a list of nine names and saw familiar ones among the eight. "Choi's? Like the ones that used to hang out with us years ago?" Tatter takes Bada's phone and checks the first user, eyes widening. "Is this the Gyuhan Minhyun-oppa used to hang out with?"

The latter grabs the phone out of her hands and looks at the page. "Holy shit, no way," as soon as Tatter connected the dots, Bada checked their names on Instagram. She kept scrolling down to see the final one. "Y/n..." The page was private, but she would always remember that girl.

"Choi Y/n??? As in, the kid you used to hang with?" Tatter asked again as she checked the phone. Bada spaced off, trying to remember my last memory with the girl.

FLASHBACK

"Okay, so we're gonna have the girls line up and hold the basket of flowers; they'll slowly make their way to the altar," the project leader told the families, and the girls could be seen in pretty dresses.

It was for a holiday at church, and the girls had to dress up and get all pretty to walk around the church. Almost all the families were there, but they were missing one. You sat next to Yunah, wearing a velvet pale yellow dress with a white cardigan, while your cousin wore a long sage green dress as Yun was taller then.

Every family was only waiting for one more group, the Lee’s. They were a well-known family who always helped with fundraisers and beauty pageants. So everyone knew that the youngest girl in their family would wear the prettiest dress by far, and they weren't wrong.

Bada Lee entered in a light blue gown-like dress that reached the floor and white mini heels. She had her hair in a braided bun and wore a light pink gloss with mascara. Sure, it was minimalistic, but everyone always found Bada cute. You, on the other hand, were already growing into her features.

You were a year older, and many boys found you attractive. After all, you were a child model at some point, which should say a lot in itself. "Y/n!"

The two hugged, and Bada sat beside the two Choi's. "You look pretty in your dress, unnie," Bada compliments, but all you can do is look down with a whinny face starting to form. "Thanks, but I already wanna rip off the dress and set it on fire."

Bada giggles, but you were so serious deep down. Being at the now, age of 12, self-identity was a struggle.

Not that you hated the dresses. You even felt pretty in them. Still, there were times when they were beginning to become uncomfortable for you.

"Girls, we need a photo of you three, please," The three smiled wide, not knowing that was the last time the two families would see each other.

PRESENT TIME

Neither you nor Bada knew why the families stopped contacting each other. To their knowledge, Bada’s parents and your aunt were close friends, but that was the only thing keeping the two connected.

"So let's do your lines, then the adlibs for this song?" Soobin's voice was snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah," you sip the bottled water and head into the booth where she stayed for almost the rest of the night.

Once the three of you finished and headed home, you opened the door to be welcomed by Jieun unnie setting up the table for dinner. Once she notices you, she rushes forward with a tight hug, "Gosh, it's been so long."

"Unnie... it's been 3 weeks," you tell her sarcastically, and she hits your shoulder with a tiny grin. "Did you call Mom while you were there?"

You stayed silent momentarily, knowing you were about to be scolded whether or not you said the right thing. "Y/n!" "Unnie~ you know Mom is just gonna lecture me about dating a boy instead and tell me to take over the company, so why even stress myself."

She sighs, "Look, I understand speaking to her is frustrating, but one, it's not like you don't like men, and two, all you have to do is text her for her to at least know you're alive."

"I doubt she cares," you mumble as she gathers the last pot of food. Come on, let's just eat and talk about this later.

"Wait, unnie, did you know about the Choi's party?" She nods.

"Jihoon got us all invited," Jieun takes a bite of rice and meat, not noticing the smirk on your face. "So~ you excited to see Minhyun-oppa?" She chokes a little, making you rush to give her water.

"Don't do that~" Jieun keeps hitting me as you laugh. "How about you? You were a little close with Bada when you guys were younger."

Hearing that, you pause for a second. "I honestly don't know how to feel... it's been years, and I'm 95% sure it's gonna be awkward."

"Why do you think that?"

"Well, Bada wasn't the most outgoing either. We were both shy. She only hung out with that Tatter girl while I hung out with Yun and Ye. We only talked when we were comfortable with the people around us. I just know it's inevitable, unnie."

She nods in understanding, and you both continue to eat in comfortable silence.

The next day, you woke up, got ready with some coffee, and headed to the studio. You, Jihoon, and Soobin were working on 2 more songs today, and you had to tweak an individual project before sending it to a large record label. And that's what was done for the next few days leading up to the party.

It was the day before the party, and Tatter went to Bada's house as usual. Bada scrolled on her phone, taking a needed break from the hectic days due to the party planning while Tatter rummaged through the girl's entire closet.

Tatter was usually content with her style, but knowing the Chois were coming put her on the edge for some reason. It seemed like everyone was becoming like that due to them.

Minhyun seemed agitated and made sure he looked good in the mirror every day since Bada told him about the family coming over. Then Sunghoon kept cleaning his room and secretly bought alcohol for him and Haechan.

Bada seemed to be the only calm one in the house right now, not seeing what the big deal was.

"Why are you like this? It's people we used to know as kids, not celebrities or anything."

"That's what you'd think with a private Instagram," Tatter said as she walked out with one of the maxi dresses Bada owned. "But search Y/n on Twitter."

She returns to the closet, and as Bada is about to do what she is told, Minhyun stops by her room. "Does this shirt look good on me?" Bada peaks up at her older brother with a confused yet disgusted look.

"Uh, you look fine?"

"You're literally no help," Minhyun leaves disappointed. At the same time, Bada shrugs her brother's antics off and begins to search, but she finds this massive account just by typing half of your name on Twitter. She sees your partially covered profile pic, but Bada could tell you definitely grew up "nicely."

Maybe sexy was the better word for that.

Though, no matter how hard she looked, she found no other photos of you. You shared paintings, drawings, pottery, photography, and book quotes. Still, the most significant thing was the collaborations you've done.

Bada only discovered that you were a songwriter, producer, and singer. Even working on projects with prominent artists like SZA, Labrinth, Jhené Aiko, Dani Leigh, Giveon, and Khelani.

This intrigued Bada; she never knew you were so artistic. The things you created drew her in without even noticing she was in the depths of your Twitter. "Well?" Tatter comes out with the dress of her choice and sits next to her best friend.

"She's definitely something."

"More than something, she's sexy as hell," Bada knew Tatter was attracted to women. Still, she also knew her best friend had never pursued one. "Are you gonna make a move?"

"Nope, I'm gonna sit there, look pretty, and have her come to me," Bada shakes her head at her best friend's words, "Of course, that's your plan."

"It always works."

Well, let's just see about that.

"Yo, Y/n, what's the fit for the party?" Saerom asks, eyeing you as you stress over the wardrobe choices. Meanwhile, Mia's just chilling on the Choi’s couch, scrolling through her phone.

Mia's rocking dark blue denim shorts, a light blue long-sleeve vibe, and some killer platform sandals. Saerom, on the other hand, is flexing an ivory long-sleeved bodycon dress with off-the-shoulder action, paired with cute baby pink heels.

You, usually the style queen, are surprisingly indecisive today. "Why you lookin' so anxious?" Mia calls her out, but you keep it mysterious, not saying a word. Saerom and Mia exchange raised eyebrows, like, what's going on with you?

Finally, deciding on a fit: baggy ripped jeans, a tight-cropped white v-neck, and a Yankees jersey left unbuttoned. Mia's like, "Seriously? After all that stress, you pick something so casual? Work trip vibes, for real."

You grin, "Hey, sometimes you gotta make it look like you didn't try too hard." Saerom jumps in with a flirty smirk, "Impressive. Trying to keep it low-key, but still looking fine."

You fire back, "Well, what can I say?" Saerom chuckles, "If that's the case, I wanna steal you away for tonight." You laugh, "You know I'd let you, babes," you tell her, slightly joking.

You look at Saerom with a slick gaze. The flirting is nothing new. Mia then gags at the sight, "Can you two like not? At least not until we get to the party?"

You laugh and change, then slip into some air forces, "Are you ready to see her?" Saerom asks. She knew Bada existed in my life, but they were never friends.

As you were in your head, your phone began to ring, and you saw that Yena was calling me. "Yo, wassup?"

"Tell me how I saw Tatter at the store, and we didn't have the greatest interaction," you were taken aback, "THE Tatter? As in Bada’s other half, Tatter?"

"YES, what other Tatter is there?"

"Wait, so what happened?" You went to the kitchen to get a drink and sat on the bar stool. "So I was picking up some iced coffee for Yun and me when I was waiting for my order, and she walked in. Bro, I tried to be friendly, say hi, and ask her how she's been... SHE LOOKED AT ME UP AND DOWN, MADE A DISGUSTED FACE, AND THEN SHE RESPONDS 'I've been fine,' IN THE SNARKIEST TONE IVE EVER HEARD."

You reacted in disgust and scoffed, "Ew, dude." "I KNOW, RIGHT?"

"Just don't talk to her at the party later," You try to reason with her, but all she says is, "I wasn't planning on it," making you laugh. "Alright, I'll see you later, girlie." "Bye~"

You head back into the room and find Saerom applying lip gloss in front of the modern vanity, "What was that all about? I literally heard Yena screaming from all the way here."

"Apparently, she saw Bada's best friend, and it wasn't the greatest interaction." "Oh, what happened?" Mia perks up, loving to hear some tea. When you told them the situation, both of their faces went sour. "Ew."

"That's exactly what I said," you tell them, giggling at the similar reactions. "Makes me not want to go to that party, honestly," Saerom says.

"Hey, she's not gonna be the only one there. Maybe you can hook up with one of her friends," You tease Saerom, and she scoffs. "Please, you know there is only one person who knows how to please me, right," she raises her brow, and you reciprocate the same look, causing Mia to groan, "Ugh, not again, guys."

As the party was already beginning, Bada and her brothers were helping Jihoon set up the stage and equipment. He was the first out of his friends because he wanted to ensure there were no technical difficulties.

"You think appa is doing a good job distracting eomma?" Sunghoon asks his older siblings. "I mean, she hasn't texted us yet, so that's saying something," Bada tells the two, and they laugh in agreement.

"Yo, Soobin and Jaeseok are here. I need to help them get the setup out of the car," Jihoon tells us, walking through the driveway gate.

"So~ You guys ready for the Chois?" Minhyun oppa asks us. "I'm ready for the chaos they're probably gonna bring," Sunghoon smirks. "Kinda ready for some drama, too," Bada shrugs.

"Hey, girl~" Bada looks at the entrance to see her friends walking in with gifts in their hands, "Hey guys, just put everything on that table over there."

Soobin and Jaeseok begin to walk in with large boxes, with Jihoon behind them carrying Mics. "Hey, Soobin and Jaeseok," I say with a wave, and the two boys smile. "Wassup Bada," Soobin greets her with a hug while Jaeseok looks at her, "You grew up nicely, puppy," This causes Soobin to elbow him.

"Don't mind him. It's just Jae being Jae," Bada laughs at this cause of the nickname and knowing Jaeseok never changed as a child. "So when are your cousins getting here?" Minhyun oppa asks as he greets Soobin with a bro hug. "They should be here in about 30 minutes. Maybe 10 for Haechan. The dude can never resist being early to a party."

"He better get here soon 'cause I have whiskey in my room, and it's waiting for him," Sunghoon butts in. Bada rolls her eyes, and the girls help us set up to help with the time.

By our hour deadline, everything was finished, and family began to roll in. Bada went inside to prepare while Sunghoon and Minhyun oppa entertained the guests.

She wore a plaid mini-skirt, a baby pink tee, a white denim jacket due to the breeze, and some plain sneakers. Then, she styled her hair in a simple high ponytail to complete the outfit.

As she returned to the living room, Bada saw all the girls waiting for her, and Tatter excitedly ran up. "They're here. I REPEAT they're here." She moves over to the window in the front and sees two cars with a group coming out of each. That's when her eyes landed on the familiar individual.

As if on queue, her heart begins to race, and the palms of her hands get sweaty. You were even prettier than I imagined you to be... also taller than she thought.

No way she was gonna survive this day without having a tiny panic attack.

The Chois enter through the back, greeted by some Lee family members. "Holy shit, is that who I think it is?" The cousins hear a familiar voice and turn to the backyard door to see the infamous Lee Sunghoon.

"Yo, Hoon! What's up?" Haechan gives him a bro hug. "Dude, long time no see," you greet him with a small hug, "Don't mind me, gonna help Jihoon with final touches."

Sunghoon stares as you walk away and turns back to Haechan, "Bro, she's so fine now."

Haechan's face goes sour, "That's literally my cousin. Shut up, please." "Besides, she likes women more than men," Yena perks up and kills Sunghoon's mood slightly. "You were always so fun, Ye," both give each other a sarcastic smile. "See, that's why Yunah was my favorite."

"You're not my favorite, though," she butts in again, killing Sunghoon's mood. "I'm hurt."

Jaeseok laughs at the interaction, but before anyone can say anything, Bada and her friends come out, and she rushes to the mic. "Guys, eomma is coming home with appa in a minute. So we would appreciate it if you guys get ready to surprise them."

You look to the front of the stage and see the middle child. Safe to say, you were mesmerized by Bada. You couldn't help but check the girl out as she gave the announcement. "Take a picture. It'll last longer," Jieun says as she sips her juice. "I just might," the latter smirked, causing her older sister to choke on the drink and elbow her. "OUCH."

Everyone began to hide, and as people heard the more mature voices, they all got ready in anticipation. "Oh, jagi, did the kids do this for me?" A woman's voice could be heard, and that's when everyone pops out.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" The Lee couple comes into everyone's view, and tears can be seen in Mrs. Lee's eyes. Once she sees this, Bada runs up to her mom for a hug while her siblings are behind her.

This puts a smile on your face, a daughter with a loving mother. Something you wish you had at times. The family then tells everyone to enjoy themselves and go eat.

You then go over to the family and greet their mother with a happy birthday. "Oh my gosh, Choi Y/n? How has the family been?" You smile as you hug her. "My cousins and I have been good, but I'm unsure about my eomma and ajumani." Before the older woman could reply, Jihoon called you over for the song that had to be performed.

"You're gonna sing for me?" Mrs. Lee gets excited and smiles as you nod. "Well, come get a drink later and catch up with Bada." She hugs her daughter, causing you to grin, and says, "I'd like that."

Bada's face forms a rosiness at the seductive tone and lingering gaze.

You hop on stage and smile at the crowd, "Hello, I'm Choi Y/n, and today I'll perform 'Longevity' with my cousin Soobin and best friend Jihoon."

The youngsters crowd around the stage and jam out as Bada joins her friends. "Did you know she can sing?" Kyma asks while jamming, "No, actually."

"Well, she's hella good, too," Lusher says as she jumps. The Lee couldn't agree more with her. Your voice had a raspiness to it, and she noticed Tatter looked like she was about to eat you up.

After a few songs, you and Jihoon stopped as Bada, her friends, her twin, and the Choi cousins went inside to drink since the party in the yard was full of kids and older adults.

The two singers walk in, and the group cheers for them, "You guys were sick as always," Soobine tells them. "Thanks, Binnie." You make a rum and coke, then greet Bada with a wave. "How are you?"

"I've been good," the two give each other a quick side hug, and Bada whiffs your fruit-like scent. You sit near her and beside Yunah, while Tatter sits beside Bada. Jieun, Minhyun, and some older friends were still outside with other guests, not wanting to be with the "youngins."

You all chat a little, even catching up with Bada. The multiple topics discussed led to talk about school. "You're in uni, right? What are you majoring in?"

"English," Y/n pauses, "You seem more like a performing arts kinda girl, no?"

Bada thinks, "I could be pursued to change majors." You smirked at her and were about to tell her how fun it was, but you got a call. Seeing the name causes you to roll your eyes, "Sorry, let me take this call."

You walk out the front door and answer the call, "Yes, eomma?"

"So you weren't even going to invite us to that party?" You scoff and furrow your brows. "It's not my party to invite you to; only Jihoon invited us."

"You're still hanging out with that lazy no future singer? I told you several times to stop being friends with him."

"And I've told you you can't control me like your puppet many times. If that's all you called me for, I will go."

"Wait, Y/n, I'm not finished-" you immediately hung up. The wave of anger washes over you, and you take a puff of the flavored smoke.

"Isn't it bad for a singer to smoke?" You hear a voice behind you, and you turn to surprisingly see Tatter walking over to you. "Eh, I'll manage."

"So~ You did amazing out there, by the way." "Thanks." You cut short, seeing her twirl a strand of hair around her finger. She gives you these seductive eyes, "So, are you seeing anyone right now?"

"Uh, no?" You shift slightly, remembering not liking the story Yena told me about their interaction. "Well, do you maybe wanna go out sometime?"

"No, thank you."

Tatter moves back in shock, "Wha- what, why?"

"Not really looking for anything right now," You make up on the spot, and she smirks, "This could be a casual thing?"

"Again, no, thank you," you head back into the house, leaving her there. As you sat back in my seat, Tatter was storming into the house, angrily making her way up the stairs to the second floor. Bada's face is painted in concern, "let me go check up on her."

After she leaves your side, you decide to get food with Yena and catch up with Gyuhan and Minhyun. As you ate some noodles, Bada came out and said, "Hey, can I talk to you for a second?"

She pulls you to the side as you continue to eat, "Can I ask what happened between you and Tatter? She told me not to worry about it, but I just wanted to ensure it was all good."

"Your friend tried to make a move on me, and I said no," you say bluntly. "Sorry to say, but my cousin and her didn't have the best interaction, and I didn't want to deal with that."

"That's fair, actually. I thought it was worse than that."

"Sorry about her, though," you wave her off as if it wasn't her fault. "Wait, you like girls?" You pause at the sudden question, "Yeah."

"How'd you know?" You stare at Bada for a few seconds, "Are you questioning your sexuality, Bada?"

She plays with her hands in nervousness, "Kind of." You smile at her, "And that's okay. You have to go through with it yourself. Someone usually makes you realize it, though."

"I see," she thinks for a second, "We should go back to drink a little bit."

"Sure," you giggle at her nervousness.

After a few hours, everyone had a few drinks, and you could tell Bada was feeling it as her flirtiness became bolder after every sip of the alcohol. She would caress your arm if you made a joke, stare at your eyes and lips, biting her lips after her little giggles.

It almost drove you mad.

You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and go upstairs. After doing your business, you washed my hands. You heard a knock on the door, "Hold on!"

As you dry your hands, you open the door to find Bada rushing inside. "I need to know if I like girls now."

You stood there shocked, almost not knowing what to say, "How do you want me to help you?"

The two of you stood there for a few seconds as you waited for an answer when suddenly Bada grabbed your face and aggressively kissed you.

Your eyes widened open in shock. You couldn't reciprocate fast enough as she pulled away. "Are you not okay with this? Like I can always stop-"

Without another thought, you pulled her in by the waist as your lips attacked hers. Your bodies generate some heat, and you carry her hips to set her on the sink counter.

"I've been waiting for this ever since I walked through that gate," you mumble into her lips. You feel a smirk form on her lips and think more devious because of this. Your tongue made its way to hers, showing clear dominance as it played with hers. The wet feeling makes it difficult for either of you to keep your hands off each other.

Bada moaned at the feeling, grinding her hips onto your body as she pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around your neck. Your hands placed themselves on her waist, and Bada almost whimpered at the feeling of your grip. You bit down on her bottom lip, slightly, and moved your way to her neck.

The girl bit her lip, trying to keep in any whimpers or moans that could possibly leave her mouth, trying to make the least amount of noise. Your hands were about to unbutton her skirt, but you paused as you both heard Tatter's voice outside the bathroom, making you pull away slightly. "Will your friend be okay with this?"

"She doesn't have to know," Bada says, causing you to smirk. "I didn't know you were so naughty, Bada," you teased, and she smiled.

You help her fix up, knowing people would look for you two. You adjust Bada's top with your long fingers, pulling the shirt down a little as she stares at herself in the mirror. "Well, did I help answer if you liked girls?"

"Oh, most definitely."

Fun Fact: this was originally a Yeji fic🙈.

Taglist (OPEN): @bada-lee-ily @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @nimixe @lorenztired @sammybeefangirls @cephox @1luvkarina

#ssivinee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee #swf2 #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bebe #bada lee x y/n #bada lee x fem reader #bada x reader #swf 2 x reader #swf 2 #swf2 x reader

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years

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im in desperate need of pouty and upset taehoon

I did have something a bit angstier in my drafts... but here's a fun little jealous Taehoon. Thanks for the ask!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Sulking

How ironic now that Taehoon is standing on the other side.

After seeing Hobin bleating around Bomi like an idiot sheep, Gaeul flapping after Hobin, Snapper pining after Gaeul, and then Wangguk pussyfooting around Rumi... Taehoon sits green-eyed with a storm cloud hanging over him.

His sour mood invades the room like an unwanted smell and he snipes at anyone daring to walk past.

"Fuck you looking at?"

"Keep staring and I'll poke your eyes out"

"Move along unless you want your ass kicked"

"There's nothing wrong with me, piss off"

So yeah. The Hobin Yoo Company quickly learns to take a wide berth.

And the cause of his current surly, sullen state? (Taehoon knows this is his problem, which makes it all the worse.)

You mentioned an old classmate of yours inviting you out for drinks, which you agreed to. And of course you would agree to it, and why would Taehoon object? You're free to live your life how you want. You're free to meet up with old friends.

Usually Taehoon wouldn't have thought anything of it. He is neither controlling nor possessive, so go - go have your fun.

But then the more you mentioned this guy, completely innocently, just filling in the blanks on your own, the more the jealousy started to unfurl.

Oh he's rich? That must be nice.

Works as a model part-time? Huh, maybe I should get into it.

Was your best friend? Good for you.

Had a crush on you? Wait, really?

Asked you out on a date before he moved away? Hold on...

And the finishing blow: made a name for himself in winning fighting tournaments over in fuck-knows-where? Ok, Taehoon isn't afraid to admit that that one really fucking stung.

Taehoon hears you noisily coming down the stairs, recognising the sound of your footsteps anywhere. He grumpily observes you readying yourself to go out to meet this loser.

"Come on then!" You throw Taehoon's green jacket at him. His hand shoots out to catch it before it hits him in the face.

"The hell you think you're doing?"

"Huh? Aren't you coming?" You stand in front of him with your hand on your hips. What is up with him today!

"Coming where?"

"To meet my friend with me?"

"I didn't know I was invited." And so what if Taehoon goes back to just sitting there with his arms folded tightly, his mouth shaped into a frown with his bottom lip poking out. This is not a sulk and that is not a pout, damnit.

"Oh..." you scratch your head in confusion. Had you really not mentioned anything? "Sorry if I forgot to say anything."

"You didn't." Taehoon glowers at you, but you can see the tightness in his body loosening.

Is this why he has been moping around all day? Is Taehoon jealous? Is that a pout? You work hard to keep the smile off your face.

"Duh, I've been talking a lot about you. They want to meet this famous Taehoon."

Wait a second - "They?"

"Yeah, my friend and his girlfriend are really excited to meet you!"

Girlfriend!? Fuck's sake. Taehoon holds himself back from facepalming.

Who knows what possessed him to not speak to you in the first place and to spiral instead. You probably did mention some of this while he was internally cursing this guy out. Taehoon files away this bit of unpleasant introspection for later.

Let's see what's so great about this asshole then. Taehoon's storm cloud starts to dissipate.

...Before leading to other points of displeasure. But now I have to be on my best behaviour for the next couple hours? I have to meet this nobody AND his girlfriend? Listen to them while they chat shit?! Ugh. The things I do for you.

Taehoon huffs as he throws on his jacket, "Let's go then, don't make me late," and takes your hand.

#taehoon seong #taehoon x reader #viral hit #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit webtoon #viral hit headcanons #how to fight #how to fight manhwa #how to fight webtoon #how to fight headcanons #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #seong taehun #seong taehun x reader #taehun seong #taehun seong x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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squarebracket-trickster · 2 months

Text

I am exhausted as all fuck right now (the chronic fatigue is kicking my ass). But I am going to try to write anyway. It's been too long since I last added to my manuscript and my brain is getting itchy. (You know, that kind of itch that's like: there are too many thoughts inside you right now and you need to get them out. But also, the itch that's like: at this rate you'll never finish this draft, you need to work on it now. And also, the itch that's like: look at all the amazing things other people are creating, doesn't this fill you with yearning? - that could be your stuff *ahem*.)

I have like 10 million better things I could be doing right now, but I've spend the past few weeks not writing when I wanted to because I was doing those 10 million other things. So sorry, life responsibilities, but you'll have to wait. Besides the only thing I actually have the energy for right now is scrolling on my phone. Which. I have done enough of today. If I have to look at one more TikTok I swear to god

Normally, I don't like to write unless I have the energy to make it good, but at this point I don't care. The other night, overcome with an urge to write something, anything, I just started typing without thinking too hard, and it was actually decent when I reread it a few days later.

All that is to say, the exercise has filled me with hubris for what I can accomplish while in the midst of a fatigue flare.

Alas, writing sesh goal for today:

I'm starting with 50755 words (not including whatever I've done of the OOB scene). Idk what percent of /80 000 that is. I have exactly 2500 words worth of second draft (and OOB scene) that I had pasted into my 3rd draft ages ago so I could rework them, which I started doing but have yet to finish.

Today's word goal is not a percent or a number, it's just to finally get rid of those second draft scenes (and be all caught up to the OOB scene). I am tired of not being able just to use the word count meter at the bottom of my doc without having to do math.

And remember, Square: just fill in the missing worldbuilding, description, names, continuity etc. Cut out anything that doesn't need to be there. You can monkey around with the pacing and line edits if you see an easy fix, but no. perfectionism. no. If the sentence doesn't come to you within a minute, leave it. That's what draft 4 is for (that's future me's problem hehe).

Oh, the other good news is that I just had a shower and my hair is very soft, so soft. you have no idea. peasants

#wipvii #wipvii updates

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solo-ojo-jojo · 11 months

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Chenford Fanfic Teaser: Sequel to That's What Partners are For

The Rookie Fanfiction | Chenford | Rated E | Intentional Seduction | Undressing

Remember when I wrote a Chenford fic inspired by this moment from Bones?

📸 @romanticallyterrible [original post here]

Well, the sequel is inspired by this moment from Psych.

📸 @onscreenkisses [original post here]

I started writing the sequel right after I finished the first installment. It's been kicking around in my drafts, and I occasionally shake off the dust and work on it. I've made quite a bit of progress this time, and wanted to share a little bit of what I've been working on.

Here are a couple of short excerpts from the first half of the story.

Title TBA (Rated E) After the bomber is caught, Lucy and Tim give into their temptations. Tim decides it's his turn to undress Lucy.

... But every signal he had been getting from Lucy, combined with a gut feeling that grew stronger by the moment, told him—screamed at him—that she wanted him, too.

Here goes nothing.

Tim leaned a hip on the bar, facing Lucy. Close, but just out of reach. While they waited for a bartender to notice them, Tim lowered his lips to Lucy’s ear so he could be heard over the music. “Do you trust me to order for you?” he asked. “I think I’ve got a good idea of what you like.”

She wouldn’t have expected for such simple words to have such an effect on her. But something about the way Tim said those words filled Lucy’s head with ideas that she had tried to abandon after she walked out of the men’s locker room yesterday afternoon, evidence bags in hand.

Tim had pulled away from her ear, but lingered nearby, not having returned to his full height. Lucy looked up at him slowly. “Yes,” she said. “I trust you.”

“Two glasses of San Matias Cristal, dressed, please,” Tim told the bartender as he handed over his credit card.

“Opening up a tab?” the bartender asked.

“No, I’ll close it out,” he told them. He didn’t plan to be at the bar for very long if things went the way he had hoped.

“Tequila?” Lucy asked him, surprised. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you drink tequila.”

The heat building inside of Lucy’s body felt like no match for the look in Tim’s eyes when he said, “I wanted to try something new tonight.”

...

“Cheers.”

Their glasses clinked together and Tim’s eyes followed Lucy’s movements as her tongue peeked out to swipe a taste of salt from the rim of her glass before she took a sip. She closed her eyes as she savored the smooth taste of the tequila Tim ordered for her before letting the icy liquor slide down her throat.

Tim took a drink from his own glass, all the while keeping his eyes on her as she lifted the lime garnish to her lips and sucked its juice.

He was overcome with his need to touch her.

His fingers reached for her face and his thumb skimmed across the tip of her nose.

Tim leaned in, his lips next to her ear. “Salt,” he explained, his voice rumbling.

“Oh,” she said breathlessly.

As his lips pulled away, Lucy could feel the warmth of Tim’s breath coasting over her cheek. But Lucy couldn’t tell if the movement bringing their faces closer together came solely from Tim, or if she herself was drifting closer. Their noses now brushing up against each other, Lucy could sense that their lips were just a hair’s breadth apart.

She looked up at him through her lashes. “What are you doing, Tim?”

“This? It’s just… very close talking.”

Lucy shifted in her seat to bring their conversation (and their lips) even… closer. “Mmm, I see,” she said, enjoying the vibration that was created between their bodies.

“And what do you feel like talking about?” she asked, briefly closing her eyes, then opening them to make sure it wasn’t all a dream.

Tim placed his fingers on top of her wrist so lightly, it felt like a whisper.

“You.”

Yes folks, Tim does indeed try something new that night. 😏

The sequel is rated E, so instead of posting a second chapter of the T-rated That's What Partners are For, it will be part of a series.

The series is tentatively titled Take It Off and can be found here on AO3 so you can subscribe for updates.

#chenford #chenford fanfic #teaser #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #read on ao3 #the rookie #unintentional seduction #now it's intentional seduction #the rookie fanfic #inspired by bones #the goop on the girl #inspired by psych #bounty hunters #by SoloOjoJojo #fic: that's what partners are for #series: take it off

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mrwinterr · 10 months

Text

demon!eddie munson, anyone?

i need to finish enjoy the ride but i recently decided to convert my demon!bucky barnes wip to now a demon!eddie munson piece.

~basically, you're taking a guy named joe home for demon!eddie to possess. & yes, we're making this bitch smutty 😛

here's some dialogue below the cut:

“Oh my. You’ve got an interesting home,” Joseph says as he follows closely behind you, heading deeper into your place. He observes the dark gothic interior, captivating and elegant with a touch of the macabre. It was definitely part of your aesthetic.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” You ask, turning around to face him.

“No, it’s just different, but actually quite fitting,” he replies, continuing to look at the many trinkets and frames along the walls. “You really like this stuff, huh?”

“I love it," you confirm and slip your coat off, draping it over a nearby chair, "but I can understand why it scares most people.”

“I don’t know why,” he responds, turning his attention from the framed images to the bookshelf. He runs his fingers along the spines of the lined books before turning to look at you. “It just seems like a bunch of hocus pocus,” he added with a small shrug. He doesn't even realize the indirect stab he’s made against you.

You hummed in return then begin walking over to him, with a sway of your hips and a predatory look in your eyes, he's entranced by you, has been the moment you sat on the bar stool next to him hours earlier.

“Shame," commenting on his opinion while your palms sneak under the lapels of his coat. Your soft hands run along the junction of his neck and shoulders, giving it a light squeeze, a small indicator for him to relax. Then your hands are hit with a roadblock from further exploring south his body. He understands and allows you to tug his coat sleeves down his arms, tossing the outerwear aside.

You stand up on your tippy toes, high enough for you to plant a delicate kiss behind his ear, which in return you feel his body react as he slightly shivered a your touch. Your lips drag along the shell of his ear before whispering, "I’d like to put a spell on you.”

He pulls away from you as you lower back down on your feet, eyes wide staring up at his own, they’re deep, hazy and filled with unearthed lust.

“How do I know you already haven’t?”

Oh you liked that.

***some dialogue w/ the man, the myth, the legend - demon!eddie:

“Where’d you pick up this dandy?” Eddie asks, kicking over Joseph’s unconscious body so that he’s now flipped onto his back, getting a good look at him to see what he'll be working with. Eddie grimaces studying this man’s attire. A total pretty boy. Oh the things he was going to do to you with this one.

“I don’t know,” you knowingly reply, “...he’s actually cute.” You were telling the truth, but you also knew how to get a rise out of Eddie when you wanted to. “Plus, he kind of looks like you.” You explain and send him a sick smile. It was like throwing dirt in his eyes because he really had no other choice.

“You’re fuckin’ kidding, right?” he says, staring at you in disbelief, but it only fuels your amusement.

that's it for now. i've had this in the drafts for over a year before i disappeared, but i'm sorta back and just trying my hand at eddie since i've lost will to write bucky. eh, thoughts???

#i actually need to be writing a wedding speech #but i'm out here feeding delusions #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #demon!eddie munson

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flydotnet · 1 month

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where I give myself stupidly niche requests according to this marvelous card… or something. It’s been three years dawg. (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

Besides, if I didn't mess up in the first place, this wouldn't have happened.

This fic is quite a long time in the making. I started working on it last year, before I even had the idea for Rice Vinegar, a previous entry in this bingo card series. I was reading/catching up to the absolute banging series that is Brimstone in my Garden, Roses set on Fire by @inkblackorchid. I was on my yearly YGO kick, this time mostly 5D's-related (it's either 5D's or Arc-V, I've come to notice) and reading Snapping Jaws and Piercing Horns (which you absolutely should read, btw, but I have a sneaking suspicion that, if you're reading this, then you've at least heard of SJPH), when the idea for this fic came to me. I really like the friendship between Aki and Crow that the series sets up during the WRGP arc, because it's got my two favourite 5D's characters involved and also it's got canonical whump material linked to it and I'm a sucker for that stuff. Everything was here for success; I was unemployed at the time so I had a bunch of free time on my hands, the inspiration was crisp and I could fuck around and find out with writing new characters I hadn't before. Issue: I hated what I was actually writing.

Since I was reading InkBlackOrchid's works, I was like "God, I need it to be as good as hers". Problem is, I don't have her writing style at all, all the while I was somehow attempting to pastiche how she writes Aki's POV. The result was a very spiteful narration that doesn't even fit Aki at this point of her character development or even the story I was trying to tell in the first place, and a lot of clumsy descriptions. It was bad, y'all. Now, that was the first draft. I had abandonned it at first, thinking I'd just never do anything with it nor with the idea I had, but I just happened to look at my AO3 subscriptions, remembered the banger 5D's fic series, and finally went on InkBlackOrchid's Tumblr. Reading her Autopsy of Crow series of posts reminded me of my WIP and made me want to finish it so I could throw my two cents in the 5D's fight.

I mention Brimstone in my Garden, Roses set on Fire this much because my love for this series is a genuine explanation for some elements of this fic. I like its version of canon so much I wrote established Faithship into this fic as if they were actually dating by this time of the series, forgetting that actually didn't happen in 5D's proper. Sorry not sorry on that front, btw, I've always shipped them and I don't think I'll stop anytime soon. The very first version of this idea wasn't even going to delve into Aki losing her powers after her crash pre-Team Catastrophe (my very own guilty pleasure of a duel, I actually really like it lol), but since I was so inspired by something that did, I figured I had to tackle the question as well. I hope it doesn't fall flat on its face. Be Careful what you Wish for had me by the gametes.

Wow, I had a lot of things to say for something that's kind of just whump I decided to write on a whim like a year ago, huh. I don't even know if my characters sound right (as in, I think my Aki is OOC, she's too open if that makes sense?), it's my first rodeo and it's scary but hey, getting out of your comfort zone is how you improve, ain't it? I don't know if this story is good, I didn't really rewatch 5D's before writing it, just pantsed it out based on memory and what I rewatched earlier this year (I think it was this year? I remember writing a post for my side Tumblr back then mentioning Max Verstappen out of all people and I wasn't into F1 until late 2023. Anyway).

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

Outside the Comfort Zone

Summary: Aki passes by Yusei and Co.'s living quarters to retrieve a copybook. Crow makes it way harder than it has any right to be. (or: a recently-ish powerless Aki finds herself having to care for a very stubborn, unwell Crow, and it goes as well as you'd expect.)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's (set during the WRGP arc)

Word Count: 4K words

AO3 version available here.

Event run by @badthingshappenbingo

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

There’s something off with the garage of Poppo’s Time, today.

Oh, of course, most of it is obvious: the air’s still, there’s a distinct lack of mechanical clicking and Yusei isn’t here. It’s a minutia of various little details that, added together, make the entire place tilt forty-five degrees to the left.

It’s, unfortunately, not just these which make her feel this way. Frankly, if it was, Aki would’ve already gone out the door and back home. She’s just here to recover a copybook and it should’ve only taken her mere minutes to do that; yet there she is, ten minutes after stepping on the other side of the door, still without her biology copybook, still in a home that isn’t hers, and unsure of where to take the situation next.

The reason might just be the odd-looking Crow that’s standing in the way between her copybook and her.

Is she friends with said Crow? Yes? Maybe? “Friends” sounds a bit strong for their relationship, she’d say; there are no strangers to each other, and she likes sharing a room with him enough to consider them on friendly terms, but they don’t share enough emotional intimacy for them to be friends. At least, that’s how she sees it – maybe he sees it another way.

(Or maybe they’re already friends, and she’s just too afraid of rejection to admit it to herself – better be safe than sorry, even around the most transparent person she knows).

Whatever their relationship is, what Aki knows without much doubt is that Crow isn’t looking like himself. His stance is slouched and unsteady, his hand is holding the doorway just a little too tight for comfort and his eyes look mussed. It’s like his gaze, while explicitly trying to focus on her, is instead looking at something right behind her – as if seeing through her, which is a thought Aki truly has no time to unpack.

“Oh, hi Aki,” he tells her with an indignant wave, head bobbing along with the sway of his hand.

“Goo – good afternoon.”

His smile turns into a puzzled expression, which doesn’t help the impression she’s gotten so far. He looks around, his left eye twitching and his brow furrowed, then looks back at her when it seems like he hasn’t found what he wanted.

“You not hangin’ out with Yusei?”

Aki almost freezes.

“What do you mean?” She asks back, a shiver going down her spine.

Crow’s brow furrows even further, finally pointing her in the direction of the dark rings under his eyes.

“What do you mean, what do you mean? You come here to hang with Yusei, right?”

“He’s… He’s not here, Crow,” her voice staggers against her will. “He’s in Peru with Jack. I just came her to get a copybook I forgot here.”

The reminder, as useless as it should’ve been, seems to have confused him even further.

“Why the fuck would they go to Peru?” Crow asks, anger sipping in his tone. “That’s on the other side of the damn planet!”

He then hacks a lung out, prompting Aki to jump out. It’s harsh, not unlike the coughs she’d get when she was ill as a child and it seemed like the world was melting around her, psychic powers mixing in with the fever – the powers who, like so many people before, have abandoned her.

The silence is too heavy. She can’t let herself falter now. She may be in danger – scratch that, she’s fine, Crow is the one who needs help as far as she’s concerned. They’re friends, or as close as it gets, and she needs to step up now that his foster brothers aren’t here.

“They’re there to follow on a lead Bommer gave them.”

Her heart sinks a little further when all she sees is confusion. In fact, anything she says seems to result in confusion.

“How? That guy’s dead, y’know,” he gulps with a wince. “I know. I watched it happen. And, like, the dead don’t send emails.”

It’s an understandably difficult thing to swallow, she’ll give it to him. To this day, and despite her (former) psychic powers and links to the extrasensory through her Signer’s Mark, she still has little idea how Carly or Misty have managed to rise from the dead. It’s beyond either of their comprehension.

What shouldn’t be for Crow, however, is the whole travel thing. He was there when Yusei and Jack announced they were going. He must’ve been there to fret over them and their budget like Jack likes to complain about. So how come he cannot remember any of this? Why is he so—

“What time is it already?” Crow asks out of the blue.

It takes her aback, but she looks over her phone screen anyway.

“It’s fifteen to six in the evening.”

His face gets splattered in surprise.

“Shit! I’ve got a shift to attend to!”

“What shi—”

His hand lets go of the doorway.

“Sorry to leave this quick, Aki, I’m in a hurry—”

He walks past her, but before he can make it past her, he folds in half into another coughing fit. Fearing the worst, Aki runs to catch him with her arms, the click of her heels almost hiding the harsh sound of his cough. Heat sips through his clothes and through her gloves, ringing the final alarm that finally allows her to deduce what it was that bothered her so much about his appearance.

Despite the audible pain in his breath and the grimace on his face when he moves his arms, Crow still tries rising to his feet on his own. He weakly bats her away with his hands, but he has to lean against the nearest wall to stay upright. It’s an unreal sight, knowing how stubborn and enduring he truly is. Where is the man who was driving with an injured shoulder mere weeks ago?

“Is this shift really that urgent?” She makes no attempt at hiding her ever-growing concern. “You don’t seem like in any state to go to work…”

“What day of the week are we on?” is all he says back to her.

“It’s… Wednesday? Why?”

Crow’s face finally lights up.

“Oh! I’ve got some time ahead of me then.” He chuckles, but it dissolves into a cough, and she can’t keep her grimace to herself. “I thought we were Monday, for some reason?”

“You honestly seem very out of it,” she ends up bluntly stating instead of going along. “I really don’t think you should go work today.” Or tomorrow.

“Can’t afford not to,” he croaks back, but it lacks any sort of sting.

What looks to her like a dizzy spell ends up taking his resolution out, his whole body pitching forward. Once more, almost in rhythm, her body moves on its own as a result, her arms catching him in his fall.

Heat lingers on her hands even after she has finished bringing him to his room.

Unlike most of Team 5Ds, Aki has never had to care for someone else. She has none of Yusei’s instinct for help nor Crow’s experience with dealing with children. Usually, when faced with this sort of situations, she’d entrust the person in need of care to someone with a lot more ease in this domain – as it turns out, most of the time, it’s asking Jack’s childhood friends to handle his problems, much to his protests. As such, she’s never had to play nursemaid before, and nobody has trusted her with such a role until Yusei came along, and for once, she hadn’t wanted that to change (except for Yusei, but this is a situation that’s unrelated to her current predicament).

Whatever she’s used to, unfortunately, is now out of the realm of possibility. The two people she could ask about it on any other occasion where the need could rise up are respectively currently in Peru with terrible reception and too busy refusing to stay in bed for much longer than a minute to give her a precious hand.

And, you know, you don’t usually ask someone who’s sick to take care of themselves, let alone help you in the process.

Very much to her misfortune, this is all without taking into account that Crow is as stubborn as a patient as he is in every other thing. It was to be expected, of course, and Crow is nothing if not stubborn; but it hasn’t made anything easier. If anything, she should’ve seen it coming as soon as he was too beyond himself to know where his housemates were and why.

Still, it doesn’t mean she shouldn’t try her best in this situation. What friend would she be if she left a comrade in need on his own, harmful to himself? (And she craves for empathy, a part of her whispers, the part of her who misses her powers for the bond she enjoyed having with Black Rose).

Despite a losing battle against his own voice and the way his limbs tremble whenever he tries holding himself out of bed, Crow is insisting that, no, he’s fine to go work, and she has no reason to worry, because it’s not his first rodeo… or something along those lines. Admittedly, it’s difficult to understand everything when he’s struggling to push the sentence out of his throat to begin with, let alone articulate his thoughts.

All that ends up doing as a result is annoying her, because this is oh so similar to Yusei but in all the wrong ways, but that’s once more beside the point. She isn’t here to lash out her annoyance at Crow being an idiot, she’s here to make sure he doesn’t die an idiot.

“I’m tellin’ you, I’m fine,” he whines, a hand already back at gripping the edge of the blanket.

“Why are you so insistent on pretending you are?”

(She doubts it’s because of a martyr syndrome like Yusei’s).

“I’m not pretendin’ anythin’. I’m actually fine.”

His voice is feeble, his words tremble out of his mouth.

“Crow, I know you’re not. Please stop making this harder than it has to be.”

He deflates with a single, wheezing sigh.

“It’s Satellite nature, I guess,” he shrugs with a slight smile. “Both Yusei and Jack got it too, y’know.”

“Speaking of Yusei, right now you’re just like him in that regard.” She lets herself sigh. “Pretending like you’re fine when all signs point to the contrary.”

“Yeah, it’s… Y’know, when you were sick in Satellite, unless you had someone to shelter you and cover your back, ‘t was like signin’ your death certificate.” He coughs again, and it keeps dragging on, worsening, and it pangs at her heart every single time. “Guess that never went away, even now.”

“Even for something like a work shift?”

“Especially for a work shift. Do y’know how tight our finances are? Jack sure don’t seem to, that asshole!” A barking cough interrupts him. “Fuck this shit, I could be literally anywhere else but here. Plus…” He turns to her, and despite the evident weariness on his face and in his eyes, his gaze is sharp. “You should be doin’ better things with your time than watching over me, though.”

Aki rises an eyebrow.

“Such as?”

He shrugs again as a response.

“I dunno. Studyin’. Playin’ cards. Drivin’ a D-Wheel. Tryin’ to… sort through what mess that must’ve been for you, these past few weeks.”

The last bit hits her a lot harder than the previous ones. Having to replace Crow in haste due to a mysterious crash, the conflicting sentiment of her first race as a member of Team 5Ds, her own crash, and now, having to grapple with the sudden and unexplained disappearance of her powers… It’s been a lot of turmoil. Too much, in fact.

Despite all of the pain, it’s somewhat heartwarming to have someone genuinely worry for her, even if it tugs at an uncomfortable heartstring. It means she has the company she so desperately looked for and thought to have found in Divine, now truthful and actually what she needed. Yet, she feels uneasy when she has to show vulnerability in front of them, afraid of what they could take advantage of, of hidden intentions that may be hiding beneath a smile. Letting go of her masks has been terrifying, even if it’s the right thing to do.

For the longest time, she could protect herself with her powers. They were her curse, they were her blessing. They made her unlike the others but allowed her to connect with Black Rose and all of her deck. She misses them even now as she’s within the warmth of Team 5Ds; who don’t judge her for them like the others. Who care for her, like Yusei has ever since meeting her, like Crow is at the moment. Even in pain, they care.

The least she can do is pay them back now that gets the chance to. Now that her powers have left her more vulnerable than ever and created a void she can’t seem to fill on her own.

“I’ll be fine not brooding about it for a while,” is all she tells him in response.

Because it’s the truth. Sometimes, letting the dark clouds consume you is worse. It’ll always be worse, no matter how easy it looks.

“You sure? Because watching over an ill guy gets boring real fast.” He gives her a small smile. “I’d know, I’m usually the one doing the watching.”

She replies with a smile of her own.

“A bit of calm would do the both of us some good, I believe, after all that happened.”

He closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

“Can’t go against that, I guess.”

“Take some rest. I’ll be here by the time you wake up.”

It’s not intended to be a lie to make him feel better about sleeping.

“If you’re lookin’ for it, the medicine is in the cabinet in the bathroom. Pretty sure we got the right stuff at least.”

“I’ll go get it.”

That, and a basin of water, and everything she can remember from hazy memories of childhood illnesses.

Yusei once told her to write down thoughts that were confusing to her, as a way to at least alleviate the black clouds in her mind. He helped her pick a cute-looking notebook for it too, just the size of her uniform pockets, red with an embroidered rose on top of it. It seemed too fitting not to pick it, and Yusei seemed even happier about it than she was. She isn’t sure if what she’s writing in it right now makes sense, but it feels nice to have a place where to dump all of the thoughts that’d usually fester and poison her mind nonetheless.

The loss of her powers continues to leave her at a loss. The best way she can describe the feeling is a bittersweet void it’s left behind: she’s finally normal, like she wished for so long when pretending to be a witch, yet now that she is, it’s like this life wasn’t for her. She misses the bond she had with her Monsters, now that she can’t caress Black Rose Dragon like she could for so long. It makes her feel lonelier in a way that’s wrong to her. It’s like she never knew what she actually wanted out of life, out of the world.

Writing down this loss, this void and this coldness is what’s helping her process some of it. It onsets the way the melancholy would’ve taken ahead of her before she met Yusei and the others. It allows her some lookback and to keep her head out of the water until she can find a solution or get used to a new situation. It feels… soothing, at times, despite it just being scribbles on paper.

A hand strangles her arm, her hands lets go of her pen, her notebook falls to the ground.

“What—”

“Who the hell are you?!”

Shaken, she stares back at her assailant – a frazzled-looking Crow, his eyes glazed over and his pupils dilated. His breathing is erratic, coming out in little wheezes, his teeth gritting.

“I…”

Aki has no idea what to do. A stranger attacking her is no surprise, but a friend? Clearly, something is very wrong with Crow, and she has trouble connecting the dots as to why he’s in such a state. Did she not look after him hard enough? Is she just as neglectful as she was when she was isolated and lost, manipulated, used as a weapon? Is this retribution for that, to be forgotten by those she cherishes?

He lets go of her arm, seemingly against his will – it seems like he doesn’t have enough strength left to actually fight her. She can hardly breathe normally, every gasp of air coming quicker than the last, but she has to compose herself back anyway. She’s the one who’s supposed to fix things here, and now, she doesn’t want to destroy anyone further. Perhaps she can still find redemption.

“What’re you doin’ here?!”

Crow’s voice is unsteady, made all the worse by the cough that’s dried it into being hoarse, and his words slur together, making him very difficult to understand. Aki wishes she knew what do say back, but…

“I’m – I’m looking after you,” she explains back, because calming him down seems like a good idea.

He cocks an eyebrow at her, doubt just barely readable in his half-closed eyes.

“Who’re you?”

“I’m Aki. I’m Yusei’s girl… I’m his friend. I’m your friend.”

His hands grab at her shoulders.

“What’s tellin’ me you are, huh?!”

She looks around the room, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the pressure from his knuckles on his shoulders are, and the heat sipping from them almost right into her skin, before finding a sign of reassurance.

“See this basin of water?” She points it with her finger, he follows it to the bottom of the chair where she sits. “It’s mine. I was trying to keep your fever in check.” That sounded like a good idea, at the time. “I’m admittedly… not great at it, unlike you are, but I’m trying.”

His gaze slightly clears up – and then his eyes flutter close and don’t open up, leaving him in her arms once more.

It’s sort of a wake-up call for Aki, as she puts him back to bed. She should’ve kept a keener eye, but instead got lost in thoughts. She was so sure she had done all of the right things already, yet there she is, only realizing after the fact she wasn’t careful by being attacked by a delirious guy who mistook her for the enemy. Talk about failing at the mission you assigned yourself.

She takes off her gloves and puts a hand on his forehead – his fever has gone back up when she wasn’t looking. It makes sense, miserably so. But this is no time to mop for herself, she must be more like Yusei. She must help out her friend even if she has her own issues. She can’t do anything about her powers, but she can do something so Crow doesn’t have to see things that aren’t there.

So she picks up the washcloth that fell onto his lap and twists it cold again, determined to correct her mistakes.

Aki is staring at Crow when he finally opens his eyes again. They’re clear, able to follow the way her hair sways when she backs up from the bed and back into the chair. Her back is trying to make her pay for the unnatural positions she made it endure, but it’ll have to bear through it for a bit. She’s not letting him down now.

“Hey,” he tells her, stifling a cough.

“Glad to see you awake again,” she confesses. “How are you?”

“Erh… Sore. Sick. You know the deal.” He sits up with the help of the headboard of the bed. “How long was I asleep for?”

“I’d say… an hour or so.”

“And you’re still here?” He chuckles, even if it dissolves yet again into a coughing fit. “Gah, forgot how much that sucked.”

“I… I didn’t want to leave you alone like this.”

“Don’t worry, I went through worse. I’m a big bird, I can deal with it on my own.”

The way she’s staring back at him must’ve looked suspicious, because he looks concerned, now, and it’s like cold water seeping through her socks.

“Hey… Did something happen?”

“No, nothing. It’s… it’s not important.”

“Tch, you’re like Yusei. ‘Not important’ my ass.”

“I don’t think I should tell you about it.”

“You’re not makin’ your case any easier. Shoot ahead anyway.”

Aki looks at her hands on her lap, her knuckles almost white. Her skin looks slightly red, especially without her gloves.

“You weren’t yourself earlier,” she manages to get out, “and you thought I was some sort of enemy.”

She can’t bring herself to look up and see what his reaction to that is. Her head’s weighing heavily on her neck.

“Shit, did… I did something to you, right?”

“You… You tried to attack me, yes,” and she realizes how bad that sounds, “but it’s nothing. You weren’t yourself and it wasn’t a big deal. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound like you are, though… Shit, I’m so sorry, Aki…”

She rises a careful eye, only to see pain distort Crow’s pallid face.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” she replies. “I should’ve done a better job.”

“Hey. Look at me, Aki.”

Hesitantly, she does – and finds no anger, no disappointment in Crow’s eyes, only compassion.

“You didn’t have to put up with my shit, and I was trying to push you away, but you did it anyway. Attacking you was wrong no matter what. You’ve got a lot to deal with at the moment and none of this is me. Don’t beat yourself up for not handlin’ everythin’ perfectly.” He smiles. “So, thanks, Aki. Don’t worry about good ol’ me, I’ll handle myself from now on.”

Silence follows.

“Though I get why you’d doubt that. We don’t really have a good track record when it comes to that stuff, do we.”

“Not really, no,” she manages to chuckle. “But friends need to trust each other.”

“You catch on quick!” He coughs into his elbow. “I’m sure it’s starting to get late, your parents may be worried. You should head home.”

“Can I… Can I stay here for a little longer? At least until Bruno comes back from whatever errand he may be running. I’d… feel better if I knew someone could watch you over.” Like she’d like it if she was as vulnerable as Crow is right now. “It keeps me occupied too.”

He gives her a sympathetic look from which she wants to recoil, but stops herself from doing.

“Make yourself a home, then. Yusei’s bedroom should be available.”

He winks, right in time for her face to warm up.

“Thank you, Crow.”

“If you need an ear to talk to and I ain’t sleepin’, don’t hesitate, okay? I promise I won’t bite your head off this time.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”

She doubts she’ll bother him with this when all she’s tried to make him do today was resting, but she very much appreciates the reminder. It’s always nice to know she’s not only accepted, but also cared for by people whose honest intentions she can be sure of.

It’s making her feel welcome, and just for that, she’s more thankful – her and her missing powers, her and her conflicting feelings it, her and her past that she’s just now feeling comfortable with disclosing anything about. Her and the ghost that may continue pursuing her in the future, but which are leaving her mostly unscathed for now.

Perhaps that’s what home is – and it may just take the shape of a friend’s bedroom, or of a garage.

#bad things happen bingo #struggling against the caretaker #yu-gi-oh 5ds #izayoi aki #crow hogan #implied faithshipping because it's my one 5ds ship dammit #bthb #who knows what this fic's actual worth is wooops

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carmenized-onions · 6 days

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Oh my onions ,

This chapter was the first thing I saw when I opened my phone this morning and I immediately started reading cause when I tell u I have been waiting for it like crazy. I took a break and kept reading after my statistics class (master’s thesis kicking my ass thank u).

It was such a relief of the tension in the previous chapters, some honest moments between Carm and Tony and also the reality and craziness of their family and faks being around.

I am so curious to see how the DD and kids dynamic will unfold cause in season 3 I bawled my eyes out in the ice chips episode and I was so happy Sug is taking those baby steps towards redefining her relationship with her mom now that she herself is one. It would be nice to see some cathartic moments here too(obviously given the complexity of the relationships cause lord knows it’s fucked to the core).

HELL YOU ARE MAKING ME MISS CHRISTMAS NOW I KINDA WISH WE HAD LIKE A WEEK TILL CHRISTMAS IRL CAUSE I HATE THE SUMMER.

cuteness baby Michaela and Tony (hohoho make her and Carmy babysit pls pls)

RICHIE THE MAN THAT U ARE. he totally is an old fashioned in my brain so I get the whiskey and peaches thought Tony u are right.

Also …. Sydney baby I can sense the tension…. I see u getting off the floor … I SEE U NOT SAYING IT BACK SO ….

Also side note I always listen to music while reading this to set the cinematic vibe yk yk and today I happened to listen to father John Misty’s “I love u honey bear” and “everything is free” and COINCIDENTALLY they match the vibe quite perfectly make sure to check them out if that’s your vibe, I feel the lyrics to these 2 songs were kinda fitting to this chapter (are they my personal soundtrack that played in this episode ?! Yes they are !)

Can’t wait for next one u never fail! Can’t wait for the Christmas special if u will. ALSO 14 K I know u said for both our sanities it’s getting shorter but I’m so glad I saw a double digit no pressure my love Heheheheheh !!!! I gotta stop yapping stay safe till next one :)))))

AHHH I hope the next one isn't shit, we're dropping in like idk whenever I finish answering these last couple asks that i've let sit in my inbox for DECADES (a couple weeks). If I failed this time, no one tell me. Let's all let onion live in ignorance okay. a handful of times i was like "what if I simply restarted" at like 8k in.

But I've finished my final draft edits and I think it's fine. I think it's a very necessary chapter. It's like how I felt about Doing Too Much back in the day, but now that one's like, one of my faves in terms of how much it actually establishes--- ANYWAYS WHAT THE FUCK AM I TALKING ABOUT let's talk about your talkings

I hope your thesis went/is going well!! It's been so fucking long where is everyone on their life projects. Me personally I'm applying to OTHER FUCKING JOBS. Who wants to pay me to write CK full time? I'm so fr.

Chapter 14 will always be that girl when it comes to tension breaking. Like christ. Two Steps Back is my favourite chapter to reread because I love Mikey and Chip and I also think I am the most in my bag when I'm writing sad shit but Chapter 14 is always nice when I'm havin a ROUGH DAYY

I hope. When I do eventually cover DD. Which is tragically for me, quite soon, that I do it fucking any justice. I'm very thankful for the compliments comparing me to canon but MAN if anything is a test of my ability to understand these characters, Donna is my final fucking exam. I am so bad. At writing moms. Just in general. Ice Chips was truly like my favourite episode of the season too, so I hope I can do all the fucking insane dynamics of adulthood blended with motherhood justice. I can barely do them justice in my own life, YKNOW??? man.

Me and my roommates take christmas so fucking seriously. As we have for the past... 3 years. And now that this is our first christmas living together again, I truly start gift planning now. did someone say psychotic? NO. i just PUT THE DATES OF EVERY SALE OF EVERY IMPORTANT RELEVANT RETAILER IN MY PERSONAL CALENDAR. I'M NORMAL. FUCK YOU I'M NORMAL!! what i'm trying to say is, it's christmas whenever you decide it's christmas.

Ohhhh Michaela Blurb. Someone request it someone request it. I so hope in S4 they let that man be a good Uncle. I know he avoids family like the plague but come on man. its a BABY!!!!!

I hope everyone loves the drink menu I have planned, or I mean--- Sorry, the drink menu chip has planned. Jerimovich you whiskey peach bitch da MAN YOU ARE!!!

It's s o hard to not write like a little bit of tension with Syd. Like I can't not. It's so in my brain I cannot get squidink out of there someone call the police dont actually

i love. when an indie bitch enters my domain. i love father john misty!! I can so see those songs. There's a lot of songs I adored for this chapter. I think my most probably unagreed with would be I Like It, by DeBarge--- Listen, I know it's so cheery-- But that's exactly it. That is so Song That's Playing At The Wedding Outside The Bathroom While We Full Breakdown In Here. HEAR ME OUT OKAY

We are,,, at 15k for this chap. Chap 14 was 14k,,,, I feel like Chap 16 is not going to be 16k (but rather, horrifically, more), but it'd be cute to continue the pattern. I'll attempt to reduce myself.

Also:

I WISH THEY MADE A CHICAGO JOKE IN CANON, esp with Carmen's drive by about Musicals in ep2? Come on man. Chicago's (the city) like. top 3 of american cities for theatre. what the fuck. SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTS???

i love chicago (the musical) (maybe also the city idk), so I had to give a little credit. And frankly, while writing that bit, I watched the moment back--- He did KIND OF RUN INTO IT, LIKE I HONESTLY THINK THAT WAS KIND OF AN ACCIDENT

anyways i'm gonna shut the fuck up now chapter out soon love you bye gotta answer more asks!!

#yapping #ask #espressoomartinii #don't say it

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the-light-finds-its-way · 9 months

Text

Mom got out of ICU today, and put into a normal hospital room. My family went to go see her, and as for myself and my siblings, it was basically the first time in 3 weeks that we'd seen her.

She was covered in giant tender bruises from head to toe. Thankfully, only 2 IVs were in versus the original 7, and she was down to one pole that held the bags, while the rest were hooked to the bed. The blood clot in her leg has grown, and is breaking up at last, or so we assume. But mom can't walk because it hurts so bad. She has mesh in her lungs now to prevent the clots from reaching them again, which will kill her if they do. Additionally, she's on oxygen for the time being. And, there's a chance when she comes home, that she'll have to remain on oxygen tanks, and if that's the case then nobody is sure how long. But I've got this awful gut feeling telling me mom will be on the tanks for the rest of her life... I don't know, and have no way of knowing, but that's just what my stupid gut is saying to me. It'll be minimally 3-5 more days before she's released to go home. It could be more, and something inside also tells me it's going to be longer. But mom says she's doing the best she has been since the first surgery 3 weeks ago. Her nurses are really nice, super sweet, and they playfully poked (hehe) at my needle weenie self who had to turn away when they drew blood from her.

My anxiety didn't help when a $86 bill went through on my bank account that's already overdrawn by Gods only know how much... I'll be damned lucky if I make $150 for this paycheck. And an artist I commissioned back in March last year for a November finishing time on a piece, was late and is now almost finished in January. I'll have to pay him the other $175 soon, and I don't know when, and if I'll even have a single dollar to spare by then... There's another draft I have coming, on the 16th, for the retirement fund my father forces me to pay into unless I want to give him $100 for literally no reason, minimally once a month but possibly more, instead of the $75 for the fund once a month. So I go for the fund. And then, I have to somehow pay for my therapy appointment in another 10 days as well. I'm really not sure if I can do all this. I ditched college to work more, and as soon as I did, they cut me down to one day a week for the next 4 weeks, and there are no people I can cover because everyone is scrambling with trying to get more than 25 hours per week. Fuckers. Try living off 8 a week, when you just told the boss you're free all day every day at any time, and they won't even schedule you for 1/3 of what everyone else is working part time, let alone full time.

I'm so scared, so lost... I was hoping to get a ticket to go see Blind Guardian in May, but they're selling fast and I'm not sure when I'll ever have the money, if I will have the money, to get one in time... Not like I've waited 9 years to go see them live for the first time ever... I somehow have to save $32 for a train ticket as well by mid February, to go to the city for something I'd planned 7 months ago. And then, I planned a trip with friends which I may not be able to do if this keeps going downhill with my money... I already have to pay for a con we are going to as well in September. And I'm just... Fucking distraught. I planned my entire year around the fact that I'd be working full time and get more money. And work kicked my ass with a giant fuck you immediately upon me making those plans.

Fuck my life. Give me my healthy mom back, and $1000. Please... I'm fucking desperate and broken...

#mun is a titan #not destiny

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pghbabesonbikes · 3 months

Text

Poolesville Road Race

by Bonnie G

I'm always nervous on the start line. I remember how it felt as a cross-country runner in high school--our team cheer still echoing in my mind, my heart thrumming, breathing long and controlled, spikes digging in to mud or grass--until the moment the gun went off and then all I had to do was run.

I'm always nervous at bike races too. It doesn't bother me much. The stomach-flipping and limb-trembling stops as soon as the race starts, the elevated heart rate gives me a kick, and the inward turn of my mind helps me focus on nothing but the race ahead of me. In the local gravel races, after the chaos of the mass start, I can usually settle in, focus on myself, and just ride. Road races, like Poolesville, are a little different. In a road race, my mind remains focused, vigilant, throughout. The rest of the world slips away as I think only of the race. Of holding the wheel in front of me. Of the features coming up. I'm constantly watching for and anticipating the moves of other riders. I'm thinking about how to execute the plans I've made with my teammates, about where to burn my matches. Road racing is tactical, and a race can be lost in a single lapse of concentration.

Positioning is paramount. By virtue of aerodynamics, road racing is a tactical sport. Drafting off other cyclists can save you around 30% of your effort, which is why, until the very end, most racers try to avoid being at the front of the group. Yet, you don't want to be too far back in the pack either, as the chances of missing a move or being caught behind a split in the group, increase. In 2022, my first year racing, a "large" women's field meant about ten riders. Ten riders do not a full peloton make, and while you still don't want to be on the front or the very back for too long, the rest of the positions are all kind of the same. With a start list of 35 riders, Poolesville was different.

It was my first race that size, and we showed up with a contingent of Babes and other Pittsburgh racers. Having spent a good deal of time the previous week studying the course map, I knew there were two key features. The first was a section of gravel road of the lap. The section was nearly a mile and a half long. The entrance was tricky, a steep descent into a sharp bend, but the gravel itself was helpfully flat. The 3-lap, 32-mile course was overall pretty flat--by Pittsburgh standards--clocking in at just over 1500 ft of climbing. The bulk of the elevation gain came from small rollers, but coming out of the gravel section, the second key feature loomed. It was a two-phase hill, each with a portion kicking up over 10% (about the same as Negley Ave), that dragged on achingly long until it crested a mere half a mile from the finish. I knew I would need to be near the front of the pack when we hit each to avoid crashes, splits, and slowdowns.

The start of the race launched us onto what was functionally a two-lane highway heading out of town, and we quickly found ourselves surrounded by farm fields. The race organizers provided rolling protection, which meant lead and follow cars, motorcycle marshalls, and police officers at intersections to stop traffic, but we had to stay in the right lane. I found myself, along with Anna-Lena, and a rider from our buddy team, Unison Racing, in the front third of the group within the first few miles. This didn't mean we could rest easily. When everyone wants to get to the front, it produces a "washing machine" effect, in which maintaining your position means you get shifted farther and farther back with each rider who advances around you. Move up, move up, move up--the mantra drummed in my head with every pedal stroke.

Moving through a pack of cyclists takes practice and nerves of steel. I didn't have much practice, so I readied my nerves. Those near the front did a good job calling out turns, potholes, and slowdowns (their voices rising above the hum of deep section wheels cutting through the air, the tick-tick-tick of freehubs spinning, and the quiet echoes of quick, even breaths all around) so I kept half my focus on the wheels in front of me and the other half on my peripheral, ready to move into an empty space or follow another rider toward the front. From the start, it was five miles until the gravel section.

"Slowing!" a handful of voices called from the front as we heard repeated whistle blasts warning us of the tricky entrance to the gravel road. The first lap was, perhaps anomalously, the fastest the pack took that corner. Perhaps we hadn't known it well enough to have the proper dose of fear. The transition between paved and unpaved is always one of the most dangerous. Between the speed we carried from the descent and the stray gravel drifting onto the pavement, ready to roll under a tire like the world's roughest ball bearing, taking that corner on a road bike deserved a healthy amount of caution. But there were no shouts, cries, or crunches from the pack, and we quickly separated into two lines, staying in the ruts and away from the center where, in places, a churn of thick, loose rock crowned the road. It was immediately obvious that passing in the gravel would be tricky, as the ruts were barely wide enough for two bikes and the unpacked gravel would be not only treacherous to enter, but also significantly slower. I held my position and tried to keep my arms and core loose to let the shocks and bumps roll through me without destabilizing me.

We rolled out of the gravel and into the first stage of the hill. I was pinched toward the right side and caught behind slowing riders but maneuvered around them with a quick warning. I moved left as we hit the brief downhill before the second stage and our Pittsburgh-engrained experience benefitted me and Anna-Lena as we made the most of the momentum of the descent to carry into the steepest part of the slope. We hit the hill in front and I was the first to crest the hill with Anna-Lena on my wheel. I eased off the power to avoid getting stuck on the front, but everyone else seemed to be feeling the burn, and no one passed me until a rider launched an attack and the bunch got going again as we hit the end of the first lap.

Me and Anna-Lena accidentally ending up on the front after the first ascent. Photo credit to Dominion Cycling Photography.

I settled back into the pack to recover. This time, about a mile and a half before the gravel, the marshalls pulled us over to let the elite women's race pass us. It took more time than we expected, and a number of dropped riders rejoined the pack as we snacked, chatted, and tried to stay warm. Once restarted, we hit the gravel again. I went wide on the hard right corner and ended in the left side rut. In the last quarter mile of the gravel, I saw riders on the right start to accelerate, and I quickly crossed the road and stomped on my pedals. Five of us broke away from the pack and held the breakneck pace as we attacked the climb. We held the gap through the top of the climb, but no one had the strength at the top to keep the pace up enough to stay away from the chasers behind. The effort had, however, been enough to shatter the pack, and the group that rolled into the final lap at the head of the race was down to a dozen riders--Anna-Lena and I included.

The breakaway group on the steepest part of the climb, with me suffering greatly. Photo credit to Dominion Cycling Photography.

The final lap, with so few riders, was calmer. It was easier to keep an eye on everyone. The team with three riders remaining in the group mostly took the front and set a quick, but not brutal, pace. After the crest of the final hill, with half a mile to go, a rider launched a long-range attack. The finish straight was ever so slightly uphill and, as the pack surged after her, the solo rider started to flag. The bunch sprint launched in earnest. In a heart-stopping moment, a rider to my left clipped Anna-Lena's back wheel and bounced into me. As I'd predicted the motion and braced myself, she ping-ponged away again and miraculously stayed upright. I dug deep and sprinted with all I had left in the tank--which at that point was not a whole lot. Fortunately for me, few of the others had anything left either, and I passed another two riders to take fifth place.

Fifth place. The final spot on the podium. I was elated. Going into the race, the first time in a "large" field, my goal was to place somewhere in the top 15. It was my first chance to really practice moving through a group, reading the intent of other riders, and making it into an impactful breakaway group. Sure, if my legs had been a little bit stronger, I could have placed higher, but I was thrilled with the way I rode the race. Mentally and physically exhausted, I was more than happy to stop at Sheetz on the way home for a recovery milkshake.

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