#ill just “if i didn't fuck around i wouldn't know what not to do” through it

[moonie-19]

Here's mine: I had a pedo and grooming encounter on insta. And when my mom found out and it stopped. Bro called my mom and blew her phone up. I never gave bro anyone no. Btw I was still 11 at that time.

[reiderwriter]

Please Accept My Apology

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: After three days spent trying to convince the BAU that they had made a mistake, Spencer Reid shows up at your door to offer his apology.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, smut 18+ minors dni, slight age gap, penetrative sex, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, degradation, hints of bdsm, implied creampie etc.

You can find my masterlist here and my 2024 song fic challenge here (don't forget to send song recommendations to my inbox!)

You never thought you'd ever see the inside of an interrogation room before this week. Now you didn't think you'd ever see the outside of it.

“Y/N, you're brother ran from law enforcement multiple times, if you know where he is you need to tell us or you'll be charged with accessory to murder and kidnapping after the fact. Is that what you want?”

“Of course it isn't what I want, but I already told you I can't fucking help you!”

You paced in the boxed room, feeling closed in and hot.

Your brother - your innocent brother - was the key suspect in a series of child abductions and murders, and as he'd ran from law enforcement multiple times, they'd dragged you into the police precinct to try to track him down.

For the last three days, you'd been stuck sitting at that table across from Doctor Spencer Reid, waiting for the worst news of your life, because you knew it was coming.

“He's not a murderer. He's mentally ill, but he wouldn't hurt anyone. I keep telling you that, why won't you believe me?”

“A lot of loved ones protest a suspect's innocence, right down to the last second.” You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from the depth of your chest.

“My brother is schizophrenic. He was violent before, sure, he had outbursts. But he has been monitoring his meds for the last three years perfectly. He has a job, he has a son. He would not hurt those kids.”

You had always looked up to your elder brother, even through the tough years.

He'd inherited both your fathers drinking problem and your mother's mental illness, each demon feeding the other until he had a breakdown at age 19.

You were only 17 yourself, but with no one else to hold him accountable, you'd been there. You'd checked him into a facility, you drove him to each of his doctor's appointments when he was clean. You'd been around for each sober anniversary, for each birthday and holiday and celebration that he'd made it one more year without falling into himself.

He'd reciprocated by being the most reliable man you knew. He helped put you through college when he was stable enough, he'd managed to work his way up in the ranks at his construction job. He had a beautiful wife (currently in another interrogation room with another agent) and the cutest little boy.

He'd promised you that your family struggles would end with the two of you. You'd promised each other to take care of each others families if anything happened to them in the future, and while you currently had no family to speak of, you sure as hell were going to make sure that your nephew never wanted for anything in his life.

Your brother wasn't a murderer, and you had proof enough.

“You know, you haven't asked me yet why I think he's innocent.” You took your seat again, and gathered your hands together on the table, leaning in closer to the agent in front of you.

You watched him think for a second, then mirror your pose, leaning in just as close, eyes locked with yours.

You'd talked about a lot of things these past three days, and you got the idea that he was a bit of a jackass. If not a jackass, then at least big-headed; he'd practically shouted his title of Doctor at you as he'd walked in, and made sure to correct you every time you'd called him agent or sir.

You kept doing it just to piss him off eventually.

“It's denial, Miss Y/L/N. You don't want to see the signs you'd ignored for that lingered, so you beg and protest and plead, hoping that eventually you'll turn out to be correct.” His voice was low, but you caught every word.

“While I am sure you know what you're talking about Agent Reid, that is not why I'm here still. I'm not being charged with a crime, and I've been here much longer than 24 hours. I'm free to go at any point, but I'm sticking around here, lawyer free, because I want to watch your face when you realise you'd been wrong this entire time.”

He shifted uncomfortably and you smiled, happy to get under his skin once again.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N. What makes you so sure your brother is innocent?”

“Your profile.” His eyes slightly widened at that, and you basked in it, leaning back and waiting for him to take the bait as the tide turned in your conversation.

“We profiled that our unsub would be late 20s to early 30s, probably a family man who'd likely been abused as a child. The profile also suggested he may have had a psychotic break recently, likely as a result of coming off his meds. Your brother fits the profile, Y/N.”

He'd dug his own grave, and you were happy to see him getting ready to sleep in it too.

“No, he doesn't, Agent.”

A tense silence passed between you, and you knew his gaze was fixed on you. You let your eyes dart elsewhere, rolling down his body to his hands. They were totally still of course, but you could see how tense he was by the way he pushed them flat against the table, almost as if he were trying to ground himself, finding reassurance in the pressure.

“How does he not fit the profile?” His brows were knitted together, and his expression was one of annoyance now.

No matter how much you had shouted or let out your frustrations these past few days, he'd kept a placid look of sympathy plastered across his features. He hadn't listened, or even suggested he'd wanted to, assuming your brother was guilty.

Now he was annoyed, as if he had the right.

“Despite what your records supposedly tell you, my brother is not off his meds.”

“Miss Y/L/N, we know that your brother did not refill his prescription three months ago, and that he looked into some clinical trials in the metropolitan area and was rejected.”

“Congratulations for having 50% of the facts. My brother wasn't rejected from those trials, he withdrew because they changed the terms. They wanted to study my nephew as well to see if they could predict where hereditary cases of Schizophrenia would manifest.”

You leaned in again now, enjoying watching the thoughts rush through Spencer Reid's head once again.

“His health insurance had some issues after the withdrawal, so his prescription couldn't be filled until next week, but my brother always had six months of pills delivered.”

You watched the realisation come crashing down on the agent in front of you, though he was doing a good job of keeping himself out together.

It was time to end this conversation.

“To take part in the clinical trial, he needed to stop taking his regular medication for two weeks. Meaning he has two more weeks of his regular medication. I watched him take it Monday morning, right about when your second kidnapping occurred. My sister-in-law will confirm.”

He stood from his chair slowly and nodded at you, making his way to the door.

“And Agent Reid?” You said making sure to hold his attention one last time before he could leave. “If anything happens to my brother, I will hold you responsible.”

He slipped from the room without another word, and you relaxed into the chair, letting your eyes fall shut as you waited patiently.

Xxx

It was another week before your brother was totally cleared. He'd turned himself into law enforcement the same day you'd forced the BAU to reevaluate their profile, and both he and his wife had cracked up your story.

With nothing else to distract them, you'd been happily informed that they'd caught the actual perpetrator, and saved another victim.

You were back at home now, trying to relax, to get back on track.

You knew by the knock on the door that you weren't going to get back to your normal routine just yet.

“Agent Reid, I wasn't expecting you.” He was there at your door, and you had to brush off a wave of annoyance, forcing yourself not to slam the thing in his goddamn face.

“It's Doctor Reid. You know that, though.” He mumbled the words, jaw tense as he heaved out a sigh, trying to get to his point but being distracted by your prickly words.

“I came to talk. May I come inside?”

“We talked for three days straight, Doc. What else could we possibly need to discuss?” You made sure to block the door with your body, one arm resting on the doorframe as you leant across it, the other holding the door tightly next to you.

You thought he'd get the idea, tuck his tail between his legs, and swiftly leave you alone, but you were sadly mistaken.

Instead his eyes raked over your body as you put it on display, curiously exploring every inch you put in his eyeline.

“May I come in?” He repeated, eyes still trailing down your body. If it weren't for the heat building inside of you, you'd have slammed the door in his face. A moment's hesitation was all you got instead, as he locked eyes with you again, and you reluctantly moved an inch to the side.

You stayed there in the doorway even as he entered, his body brushing against yours almost intimately for the second, his hand faintly tracing over your hip as he stepped inside, watching you all the time.

Needing desperately to gain your composure back, you jumped into asking questions. “You're in now. What do you want?”

“I wanted to apologise.” He hadn't moved far into the apartment, and you realised aa soon as you turned away from locking the door, overestimating his distance. You spun right into his arms, one of his palms coming to your waist to steady you as the other steadied the two of you against the wall.

“And whatever would the wonderful Doctor Reid need to apologise for?”

Your words were venomous, but the heat in them rose from somewhere deeper than the acid in your stomach, somewhere more fiery than the burning sensation at the back of your throat.

“I'm trying to do the right thing here, Y/N.”

“After a week of doing the wrong thing, Spencer, I'm not sure you're fully capable of that.”

His brows furrowed as he pouted, and you hated his proximity, both too close and too far at the same time. You wanted to run him apart, and then delicately sew him back together.

“I was doing my job.”

“You almost got my brother killed.”

“I'm sorry.” He heaved out an exasperated breath with the words, body relaxing and pushing your back fully against the wall. His eyes widened, and you could tell that he hadn't meant to move you in that way, but you just stared at him still, eyes flicking down to his lips with every intrusive thought.

This was how close you needed him.

“I don't give a shit if you're sorry.” You meant the words to be harsh a warning, but you hadn't realised your heartbeat bursting from your throat, your breathy gasps for air making it sound more erotic than angry.

He blinked once, then twice, slowly as if he was a scientist observing an experiment, not wanting to take his eyes off of it until he was certain something wouldn't happen.

“You're enjoying this.”

“I'm not.”

“Your heart rate is at 127 bpm, your pupils are dilated, your breathing is shallow. You're enjoying this. Why?”

His hands didn't let up, even as he shot out his words, brows furrowing further as you resisted the urge to push him away.

It was more comfortable keeping him close.

“I told you I am not enjoying this. You're just too close.”

“So, you're having a physical reaction to me?” He asked, almost quizzically. You had expected to hear a triumphant smirk or something in his voice, but he seemed genuinely curious.

“For God's sake, Spencer, yes. Yes, you're close and it's making me uncomfortable. You spent three days making me feel uncomfortable, and now you've come back for round two, are you happy now?”

“You're not uncomfortable,” he shot out again, almost as if he couldn't stop the words from spilling out. “You're aroused.”

“Know it all.” He laughed at that, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks. You weren't sure what the hell was going on with your body, because you'd spent the week despising the man in front of you, but now a simple hand on your wrist and a laugh had you blushing like a schoolgirl.

“So what if I am aroused? You're touching me, you have me pinned against the wall, really this is your fault, Agent.”

“It's Doctor, but you can call me Spencer. Or you can go back to another colourful insult if you'd prefer?”

“You're pretty full of yourself, I thought you came to apologise.”

“I did, it's not exactly me that is acting like they want to be filled right now though.”

“Jackass,” you snapped, as he lowered his hand around to cup your ass, finally allowing himself a tiny hint at the smirk you'd predicted earlier.

You gasped as he took a handful of your ass and pulled you flush against him.

“I want to say sorry, I want to make it up to you. I'm being quite charitable here.”

“Charity, my dear Doctor, is where you give something and expect nothing in return. It seems like you want something in return.” You spat the words again but you let your hands press lightly against his chest, waiting for him to make the next move as you played with the buttons of his shirt.

“I'd be more than happy to do that, too.”

You weren't sure who reached for who, or which one of you made the first push, but you were suddenly joined together by your lips, each of you battling furiously for dominance.

Your hands pushed up desperately, clawing into his long, busy strands and pulling him down further into you as you worked against him.

He was still stronger than you though, so when he forced your head back an inch, you moved out of necessity.

“Is that enough, or should I keep apologising?”

“Nowhere near enough, jacka-” he cut you off by pushing the tip of his thumb into your mouth, using one of his legs to spread yours so he could nuzzle himself between them.

“Why so quiet now? We couldn't shut you up in those interrogation rooms, but now you're so polite and obedient.” You moaned around his thumb as he stroked your tongue, encouraging you to suck it.

You didn't need much instruction, desperate now to show off your superior skills to the man in front of you.

“That's it, show me how much you want it, my little whore.”

His hand slipped into your pants quietly, but you twitched as his hands feathered their way along your pelvic bone, twitching at the sensitivity of the connection.

His hands slipped into your panties and you knew immediately it was over for you. You were so wet, and he was going to be able to tell just how much you apparently wanted him.

You moaned as he roughly pushed your pants down, finger teasing your cunt through your panties as you still struggled to suck his thumb so you didn't make any louder noises.

“You're enjoying this.” It was no longer a question, but a confident statement, no curiosity but simple satisfaction at how good he was making you feel.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth, rubbing some saliva across your lips to make them shine before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. Your hands barely pushed out in from of you before your chest collided with the wall, and he was close behind you.

As he coaxed your panties down your legs, you closed your eyes and tried to keep your breathing steady, desperately clinging to some high ground where you could find it.

His fingers were hot and long, and they quickly found your clit and got to work as he ground his hard cock against your bare ass.

His pants were still on, but you could feel the outline of his dick against you, hips rutting back into him with each flick of his wrist.

“Now, come on Y/N. You said it's not charity if I receive something in return, right?” He whispered into your ear as you tried to reach behind you to grab his dick.

“We're going to take this nice and slow, and you're going to enjoy all of it.”

His fingers slowed to an aching pace as he finally pushed a first digit inside of you. His hips finished moving and his free hand held you still too, so the only friction was coming from that one hand between your legs, practically edging you.

“Fuck me, just fuck me Spencer.” You moaned in frustration.

“Doctor.” He whispered in your ear, the glee in his voice igniting your hatred of him all over again.

“What?” You spat out.

“Call me Doctor Reid, and I'll give you anything you want. You want to cum, right?”

His fingers kept their slow pace, and you could feel yourself growing more impatient, even as you grit your teeth together.

“Fuck me, Doctor Reid.”

“What about please?”

“Fuck you.” You instantly regretted your words when he pulled his hands off your body completely, retreating further into your house.

“No, shit, wait.-”

You scrambled after him as he took a seat on your couch, removing his jacket and loosening his already dishevelled tie.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He asked, palming himself through his pants as he watched you practically fall at his feet, needing his hands back on you.

“I want you to f-fuck me, please Doctor Reid.” He nodded slightly, pulling your remaining clothing off as he responded.

“That's a good little slut.” He led your hand over his cock and let you undo the buttons and pull him out. You needed no other instructions as he leaned back and pulled your legs into a firmer position.

You gave his cock a few strokes before lifting your hips and sinking back down onto him.

“So fucking wet for me, you were so aroused, baby.”

He didn't let you control the pace, but held your hips still just above him as he began pushing into you from below, lifting his hips to fill you up with each thrust.

You couldn't bite back the screams as his balls slapped against you, Spencer trying his best to fit his entire length into you with each deep thrust. You wanted to kill the man only an hour earlier, and now you were sure you wanted to have him inside you like this forever.

“Oh fuck, just like that, just like that Spencer please!”

Your hand drifted down to your cunt and you're began to rub feverishly, even as you felt the pressure build up from your gut.

The pressure was almost unbearable and before you knew it you were squirting on his cock, fingers splashing wave after wave of your arousal over his cock and clothes.

“Already squirting for me? I thought you didn't want anything to do with me, Y/N. I guess you are just a little whore.”

You twitched, but couldn't respond, as he began thrusting sloppier than ever before, grunting in your ear as he finally joined you in your mess.

His grip on your hip slipped as he finally started cumning, and you moaned feeling him so deep as he gathered you in his arms and pulled you chest to chest.

You sat there panting together for an eternity before you even thought about detangling your limbs from one another.

“You made a mess of my fucking sofa.” You said as you finally rose up slightly, looking down at the mess beneath you.

“No, Y/N, that was you. I simply helped.”

“Jackass.”

“Whore.”

You gasped as he laughed at you again, pulling your hips back down over his so you couldn't slide off his cock again.

“Don't act so scandalised when I can feel just how much that turned you on. You're enjoying this.”

You pouted a little, but let your head fall back against his chest.

“And what if I am, Agent Reid?”

[zombieplaygrounds]

cw: noncon hinted, hinted somno, creampies, sexual fantasies, masturbation, fem! afab reader, forced impregnation, stalker behavior, dead dove do not eat

MDNI.

It rained today; it had rained the day before as well. But today was different - at least, for Simon it was. The usual scent of cigarette the reeked around the neighborhood was washed away by the sweet, fresh fragrance of rain. He couldn't fucking sleep for the life of him, too accustomed to his shitty, inflexible work schedule. Sleep for three hours, wake up, report in, missions, come back, standing duty, work out. It was a filthy, scrambled jumble of a schedule that made his brain hurt.

His only luxury was the reservation of his civilian life.

Didn't socialize. Hell, he barely even glanced at someone's face for longer than a few seconds - didn't need to. He had already memorized their features for as long as he deemed important. Which is how he got to finding you.

You, his pretty little neighbor. You were all too fucking sweet for a bastard like him to have such possessive fantasies about. Spend the day time outside, tending to a garden, barbequing, reading a book while bathing in the sun. Your reading glasses were a cute look for you, as was everything else.

And in the evening, when you got to cooking, you'd prop open your kitchen window and let the food cool down. The sound of your dishes being scrubbed could be heard from his own yard - it's not eavesdropping if you're so got damn loud, darling. You yammer to your friend about life, work, the bullshit you experience and the guy who tried to get in your pants last week.

Oh, a pretty thing like you doesn't deserve to tell such vulgar stories. And Simon knows it's wrong to listen. He really does have morals, and respect, and chivalry. Sure, it's hard to prove that when he's fisting his hung cock. Muffling his grunts with sucks of air and shaky exhales.

Your laugh makes his cock twitch, and your sweet little "Mhmm"s make his tip leak with bitter tasting pre. He's sure he'd taste awful, splattered in your mouth. He was sure that you were spoilt on the delicacy meals you'd make in your kitchen. Simon wouldn't force you to endure something so cruel. He'd let his cream fill your cunt, holding your hand while you cry through your orgasm, because he is a gentleman.

Realistically, Simon probably couldn't last long. Especially given the way he busted in his pants the one time you came over to the fence, leaning over it with a hop on your ladder. Gave him a great view of your tits, something you had to be aware of as you begged him to give you some of the oranges from his tree.

'Course, he complied, who was he to reject his sweet little thing?

But love, when you initiate something like that, don't be surprised when the creep at your work randomly disappears. And when you wake up to the window you left open last night closed shut, and your panties full of a sticky white liquid. If they were even still on, you'd be lucky to have some dirty panties left.

You figured, you were a sleep walker. So innocent you are. Go to the doctor about all the "discharge" leaking out of you, not even questioning the throb against your cervix and imagining they were just some cramps from an upcoming period. One that never would come. And only when he hears you sobbing while waiting for one of your pies to cool down will he approach, very sweetly asking what's wrong. Leaning by your window well you break the news to him. You're gonna be a mother, and you don't even know the father. You've been abstinent for months!

Much to your surprise, your neighbor, generously offers to help. Because baby, he gets those combat paychecks; money isn't an issue for him. Simon would generously help you, from the bottom of his heart, with no ill intent, of course.

The military offered great family benefits, after all.

ahh </3 I haven't written in so long :T

anyways i wanted to try writing somno stuff because why not.

[emiphemeral]

like sexy dynamite — a.donaldson

pairings; 2019 art donaldson x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ smut, mean!art, dom!art, sub!reader, semi-public sex, p in v

a/n; twas feeling festive... everyone thank @martiansodas-blog for convincing me to write this

you were, by some peoples standards, art donaldson's "controversially young" girlfriend. of course, you didn't find it controversial at all. clearly neither did he, since he was the one who approached you first anyway. the main perk of having a wealthy older boyfriend however, was access to his big beautiful house.

art had asked you to move in with him months prior, so it wasn't difficult to get him to throw a fourth of july party. it wasn't difficult to get anything with art, not when it's you. you simply had to bat your eyes and he would melt.

so there you were, sipping on some probably spiked punch and giggling with a few friends. trashy pop music played over a speaker, provided by some shitty college dj you had hired. it wasn't meant to be a good party, it was meant to be a fun party.

you and your friends names get called from across the room;

"guys, come on, they're setting off fireworks soon!"

your group starts to eagerly head to the backyard, until a grip on your arm stops you.

"hey baby. mind if i steal you for a minute?" art mutters in your ear.

he begins to pull you away before you can respond, barely having time to mouth 'ill be there soon' before you get dragged around the corner. he brings you to a stop in the luckily empty kitchen.

"are you oka-"

art interrupts you with a sloppy and desperate kiss, hands tightly gripping your waist.

"do you have any idea what you've been doing to me all night? running around in that whoreish dress?" he growls pressing you against the countertop.

"shit- art- someone could see-" you pant as he mouths at your neck.

"everyone's out watching the fireworks. like we would be, if you weren't such a fucking tease."

you gasp as art flips you around, pressing your torso into the cold marble countertop. he reaches under your dress, lightly rubbing your soaking wet cunt.

"this is what you wanted, isn't it? for me to bend you over where anyone could see? so wet over the thought of being seen as what you are, a slut."

you whimper as the blonde pushes your dress up, just enough for him to get a good look at your pussy. he curses under his breath at the sight, unzipping his pants and pulling out his already leaking cock as fast as possible.

he rubs his tip through your folds for just a moment before slamming into you. you let out a loud moan, muffled by his hand clamping over your mouth.

"c'mon baby, wouldn't want to ruin their party with your trampiness, would you?" art grunts, not letting up for a second.

the hand thats not covering your mouth is on your waist, holding you firmly against the countertop. your eyes roll back into your head as he hits the perfect spot inside of you, drooling like a mutt all over him. you can't help but let out pathetic whimpers and whines, so overwhelmed that you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

as if it was planned, the fireworks go off. its a loud show, just loud enough that art can take his hand off your face. he uses his now free hand to reach in between the two of you, rubbing fast circles onto your clit.

without support from art, your face slumps against the cool marble. you're putty in his arms, him fucking you so good you can't even think. with a particularly rough snap of his hips, you come undone, cunt spilling all over his cock.

"fuck- almost there baby- you can take it like the whore you are-"

art's rambles have practically turned mindless, now only chasing his own orgasm. he releases his hot load into you when you turn to face him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. like a hypocrite, he lets out his own vulgar groan as he finishes.

"fuck.." art mutters pulling out and smoothing your dress back down.

"go on. see your friends, knowing you're dripping with my cum", he grins cockily, giving your ass a playful slap. you push off the counter to walk outside, but your legs immediately give out.

"oops." art shrugs, with the most unapologetic smirk known to man.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

under the influence

words: 1.4k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, blowjob, dubcon, blackmail, mentions of forced sex, throwing up, drunk!reader

your head pounds as you stumble towards whatever light source is in front of you. your vision is glazed over, only amplified from how tired you are.

“y/n?” a voice calls out.

you open your mouth to respond but your feet trip over a crack on the sidewalk and you fall forward, barely catching yourself with your hands.

“ah, shit.” rafe groans, rushing over to check on you. he turns you over so your back is now against the pavement. “what happened to you?” “was at a party.” you manage to get out before turning your head and throwing up. rafe gathers your hair for you as you vomit onto the sidewalk. “got really drunk.” you say when you finish, spitting to get the taste out of your mouth.

“yeah, i can tell.” rafe scoffs. “want me to take you home?” “no-” you shake your head, looking up at rafe with tears in your eyes. “my parents would kill me if they found out.” your mind reels, tears suddenly falling which quickly turns into sobs.

“hey, hey, shh.” rafe tries to comfort you, his hand coming to rub over your shoulder. “shit, shut up. you can stay at tanneyhill.” “really?” you squeal, mood instantly turning around, a smile replacing your frown.

“yeah just… just get up, come on.” rafe helps you stand up, annoyed that you're ruining his plans for the night, but not wanting to leave you out here to fend for yourself. 

you know rafe mostly through your families, both being prominent members in the outer banks. you've grown up around each other, and while you’ve been kind of flirty in the past, in never progressed into anything.

rafe loops an arm around your waist, helping you walk towards his house. rafe had planned to walk to a party, probably the same one you're leaving from, before he came across you.

“are your parents home?” you ask, knowing that you'll have to sneak past them, as they will definitely tell your parents if they saw how obviously wasted you are. 

“no. it's just me at home. ward, rose and wheezie are gone for the weekend and sarah is who knows where.” rafe rolls his eyes at even having to mention his sister.

“probably john bs.” you comment, before throwing out a snide remark. “dirty pogue.”

it makes rafe smile, remembering that you harbor the same feelings towards the other side of the island that he does.

rafe leads you inside his house before having to basically drag you up the stairs. he leads you into a guest room before letting you flop down onto the couch.

“you know i had plans for tonight, and now i gotta stay here and make sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning.” rafe says, wanting to make sure you know how much of a pain in his ass you are being.

“im sorry.” you pout, and it stirs something in rafe, seeing you laying splayed out on the bed, sorrowful look on your face and big doe eyes looking up at him.

“you know, you could do something to make it up to me.” rafe offers.

“like-like what?” you ask, blinking up at rafe.

“suck me off.” rafe says, watching you process and then react to what he just said.

“but-but! we are friends rafe you don't want me to do that!”

“i wouldn't ask if i didn't want it.” rafe shrugs. “besides, i was definitely going to hookup with a girl tonight, so im settling with just a blowjob, unless you want me to fuck you too?”

“no, no.” you shake your head quickly. you think about leaving, about walking out of tanneyhill, but you're not sure your legs can carry you that far. “ill suck you off.”

“good girl.” rafe says, rubbing over his crotch as you reposition yourself, flipping to your stomach and moving yourself to the edge of the bed.

“you're gross for this, rafe.” you say, even as you swat his hand away and rub over his length through the layers of fabric.

“we can always stop and i can take you back to your parents. tell them what a naughty girl you've been, getting drunk then rubbing at my dick.”

“no, no.” you shake your head. “im gonna do it just give me a sec.” you unbutton rafes pants slowly before tugging the zipper down, trying to force your mind to sober up as he tugs his pants down, taking the underwear down at the same time, revealing his half hard cock.

“oh my god, you’re so big.” the words slip out of your mouth before you can help it, making rafe chuckle.

you cautiously reach for his cock, wrapping your hand around the base and slowly beginning to stroke up and down, waiting for him to fully harden before you even attempt to put it in your mouth.

“come on, y/n.” rafe encourages you, stepping closer and pressing his thighs into the edge of the bed. you open your mouth and cautiously take a lick over the head of his cock, eyes sliding shut when you realize how good he tastes on your tongue.

you quickly take more of him, mouth swallowing his cock as you bob your head. rafe moans, tangling his fingers in your hair as you work on his cock, all apprehension gone the second you actually felt him.

“fuck, if this is how good you are drunk, i can’t imagine you sober.” rafe groans. he never really thought about you in a sexual way before, always just a background character in his life that he’d joke around and flirt with, but it was never serious until now.

“yeah?” you smirk as you pull off, taking a deep breath, your hand immediately beginning to stroke him to make up for it. 

“we’ll see if you even remember this.” rafe laughs, tugging on your hair, forcing you to retake him in your mouth. you choke slightly before regaining composure, sucking his cock deep into your mouth, managing to go all the way down and pressing your nose into his skin. you credit the alcohol flowing through your veins as the reason for your gag reflex not playing up, along with the confidence you have managed to muster up.

“are you sure i can’t fuck you?” rafe asks.

you shake your head no while still swallowing around his cock. you know you’ll wake up and regret this, but the regret is a million times better than the punishment you would face from your parents.

“maybe in the morning.” rafe grunts, hands tightening on your hair as he begins to snap his hips forward, keeping your mouth in place, not caring that drool is dripping down your chin and that your hands are fisted on the comforter, gripping it so tightly that you can feel your nails digging in to your palm through the fabric.

“so good, baby. keep sucking.” rafe commands, knowing he isn’t going to last much longer.

rafe lets out a groan and you feel him swell inside of your mouth before releasing, cumming straight down your throat, his hands keeping you pushed down on his dick, even when you try to pull away and take a breath.

rafe makes sure you stay on him for his entire high, throat constricting around his dick until he pushes your head away, cock flopping out.

you cough, wiping at your mouth. “i can’t believe you made me do that.”

“aye, chill out, y/n. you were certainly acting like you enjoyed it.” rafe laughs, tapping your cheek as you recoil. rafe tucks his cock back into his pants, redoing the button.

“yeah, whatever.” you roll onto your back, moving so your head is back over the pillow. your eyes close, 

“scooch over.” rafe commands, making you furrow your brow and look at him.

“what for?”

“i like this side of the bed.” he explains.

“you’re not sleeping in the same bed as me, fuck off.” you wave your hand.

“nah, you’re too drunk. gotta make sure you don’t puke all over the sheets.” rafe explains, hand coming to your hip, pushing so you have no choice but to roll to the other side of the bed.

“too drunk to sleep alone but not too drunk for me to suck your dick.” you roll your eyes. “make it make sense.” “hey.” rafe glares at you. “don’t make me wake you up with my cock inside you. shut it.”

he reaches over and shuts off the light, casting the room into darkness. you let out a sigh to show your disapproval of the situation but don’t say anything more as the silence stretches out a few minutes. “rafe?”

“what?” 

“can you hold me?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[skullvgirl]

— 1:26 PM { r.itoshi }

rin made a mistake.

he knows he did.

it's exactly why at 1:26 PM he comes walking into the ice cream shop you're working at, arms laced with sone random girl he pretty much paid to date him, hoping you'd look at him and think maybe it was a mistake too let him go.

to let him run away from you. just like he runs away from everything else.

you're no where to be found.

in fact, almost you're entire shift goes by without your presence he missed can so much as grace the air, but then he sees it.

your (h/c) locs bouncing away in out of the store with only your bag in hand, not looking back for even a second, as if..you were avoiding something.

you knew he was here he realized

he chases after you.

" YN come back, YN wait, please!" but you don't respond. You don't even turn around untill he forcibly grabs your wrist from behind and pulls you so you're finally, finally looking at him.

it's not the expression he was hoping for.

"what the fuck do you want itoshi." you spat bitterly unhooking your wrist feom his grasp. he stared taking in your words.

itoshi? it felt strange hearing the words come out of your mouth, as far as he could remember you only ever treated him with love and respect. things he took for granted when the two of you were together. moreover it was weird hearing anything but 'rin' 'rinne' and even 'rinnie bear' when you talked to him. You'd always insisted on giving him a pet name to address him and now that you weren't...

It hurt.

Badly.

"well are you just gonna stare, cause if so Im leaving." you began to turn around again taking in a deep breath so you wouldn't cry in front of him.

you needed too look strong.

you needed him to see everything was fine, ans you were doing better without him.

you needed him to see that you never needed him. because clearly he never needed you.

"I'm sorry." you stopped in your tracks, but you did that turn around.

"YN, im so so so fucking sorry I-" he began, attempting to wrap his arms around your shoulder but you quickly push him off

"don't fucking touch me, in fact don't ever touch me again, what you did to me rin. I'll—" you're eyes began to water, and you cursed yourself for even being here right now.

"Ill never forgive you." You tried to hold it in, but the frog begining to form in your throat was only getting bigger. the more you looked at him, the more you wished you'd never met him.

"YN, i'm—I miss you. I miss you more than words can imagine,—"

"Miss me?" you scoffed, it was almost funny. "Didnt miss me much when you spent weeks and months away from me no contact. Didnt miss me much when you were gone for 7 months and when you finally came home you didn't even look at me when you came through the fucking door. Didn't miss me much when—"

"I know! I'm sorry, I wasn't–YN I dont know how to comunicate my words properly, I'm just so fucking useless at times and, and I was scared." he was crying now but so where you. fat sobbing tears ran down your face and jt made you appreciative of the fact you parked far out in the parking lot.

"scared of what? me? yourself? all the love a girl could ever give you in the world?"

"no of course not, it's just my brother he–"

"oh so now this is about your brother huh? stop making excuses, I don't want to fucking hear them."

and you turned around again, this time however instead of yanking you back like rin wanted to he said something yo'd never heard him utter before.

"there not excuses damnit YN, I love you."

you turned around but didn't say anything, letting him stumble towards you and shuffling with something in his pocket.

It was a crumpled sheet of paper that looked too have some sort of writing on it. "Dear YN. You are the love of my life, I'd never thought of a better person to meet and im so glad that person was you. I know this may come as a surprise but you're the only person in my entire life that i've ever loved in this sort of way and I'm sorry I wasn't there for you on your behalf. I was a horrible boyfriend and a horrible friend. I'm not expecting you to forgive me, but I wanted to let you know that I'm here, if you're willing, Im here."

He placed the paper back in his pockets waiting for a response. His heart was going 100 miles an hour and his hands were shaking like he had parkinsons disease but he wouldn't run away, not this time.

a part of your heart felt softened, his face was red and a but swollen now and you could tell he was genuine, at least this time around. but another part was still hurt, another part wanted him to be just as hurt as you were all thoes years.

"which Ai program wrote that for you Rin." you spat and his eyes fell from the hopeful glimmer they had before.

"my therapist, she's, been helping me." that surprised you, and you wasn't sure if it was your own emotions or if it was his, but you felt a calling in you. like something was right.

"give me that." rin pulled out the paper and you snatched it from his grasp, scribbling something on the bottom. "thats my new number, i need to process things right now. ill call you when im ready. "

rin couldn't believe it, you were actually giving him a chance? you might actually let him back into your life?

he'd just have to wait and see.

[hmusunoo]

TXT AS ANGST TROPES - hyung line

pairings. ᝰ.ᐟ txt members x fem!reader synopsis. ᝰ.ᐟ txt as angst tropes warnings. ᝰ.ᐟ obviously angst tropes, cheating, unrequited love; I did only the hyung line because I'm lazy, let me know if you want tae and kai's too and ill make aa part 2 W.C.ᝰ.ᐟ 1.6k

𐙚 soobin - loss of feelings/cheating

the air in the room was thick as you sat with your head in your hands. scarred that you looked up and into soobin's eye you would know for sure that it was over. You weren't ready for that. mind, body and soul you knew you weren't ready for whaat you and soobin had built all these years to crumble, to come crashing down in an a single instant.

but you knew it was going to happen. you knew that it had to happen. you looked up a tear falling down your cheek.

more under the cut!

"when?" you asked, your voice breaking along with your resolve and your heart. "when did it happen?"

you weren't sure if you wanted the answer entirely. you weren't sure if you had just wanted him to lie to you instead, if you wanted him to tell you that he wasn't cheating and that everything was fine. luck had not been on your side, not now and not ever.

"six months ago" he whispered into out filling the void of the room "I'm so-"

"don't" your voice was stern trying your hardest to keep it together. he didn't deserve to see you break. "don't say you're sorry" soobin flinched at your harsh tone. it was tone you had never taken up with him before.

"I loved you. through it all I loved you" you seethed out. a red hot anger now coursing through your veins. it felt like he had taken a torch to your heart, sitting back to watch as you withered away to ash infront of him. doing nothing to extinguish the burn that he had caused.

"I didn't mean for this to happen y/n. it just did ok?" he had the nerve to sound angry as if he didn't ruin this beautiful thing you had created, he had the nerve to act like he wasn't the villain in your story. it had made you angrier.

you let out a laugh you heart racing as you stood from your seat. "you're unbelievable" you spit out at him. "you're seriously angry at me?'

"I'm not angry I just don't know what you expect me to say?" his voice has risen an octave, now standing in front of you.

"do you love her?" you asked him. it was a question that deep deep down you knew the answer to. aa question you didn't want to ask but for the sake of the closure you'll need, you just had to ask.

"y/n-"

"do you fucking love her soobin!" shooting had taken the very little energy you had and disintegrated it, along with your heart when he meekly answered "yes."

that's all you needed to hear.

𐙚 yeonjun - betrayal

"oh hun did you really think he cared about you, did you?" the words rang in your mind as you made your way out of the dorm apartments. the conversation you just had replaying in your mind like a rusty broken record.

the sounds of fast footsteps approached you closer and closer, you didn't turn to see who it was. you didn't need to you already knew who it was.

"y/n!" you kept your brisk pace, the tears falling from your eyes the wind smacking you hard in the face with a sting, that sting being nothing compared to the sting of what you had just endured in that small dorm room.

"please baby let me explain" you whipped your head around to meet yeonjun. he abruptly stopped in his tracks not expecting you to stop for him.

"don't you dare call me that. not anymore" you seethed at him, your heart thumping at tenfold as you stared at him.

"I need you to let me explain." he pleaded, a genuine look of desperation on his face. you couldn't let him pull you back in though, you had to keep your composure you wouldn't allow him to break you further, if that were even possible at this point.

"how could you possibly explain that yeonjun? you said it. it was right there in the recording you can't deny it."

"I had to say it-"

"don't give me that bullshit yeonjun. you told him that you didn't love me. that I had been a means of distraction for you. that everything we had been through this last year has meant nothing." the tears built behind your eyes threading to cascade like a waterfall if you didn't get yourself together in the next few seconds.

"he was forcing me to break it off with you y/n I had to make it seem like it wasn't serious so he would get off my back." and although his explanation made sense it still hurt, it hurt because he didn't pick you. he didn't stick up for you, for your relationship and that was a betrayal. it was a betrayal to who you were and what you did together. did appeasing his manager mean more to him then you did? it seemed like the answer was right here in front of you.

he was more worried about what his company would think then how you would feel in the aftermath of it all.

"I just wanted you to choose me" you croaked out, a defeat now settling deep in your chest. "and you didn't do that yeonjun, I don't know if that makes me selfish and to be honest I don't care if it does. I just wanted you to pick me." you breathed in a shake to your voice taking over. "now it's too late. I know full and well where your priorities lie and it's not with me. I can't settle for that."

𐙚 beomgyu - unrequited love

you had watched from a far beomgyu and the newest girl he had decided to bring around. he was your best friend, your longest friend. having fallen in love with him in your early teen years you continued with the same feelings years later. you had to suffer in silence as beomgyu brought countless girls around and soon after moving in with one another in university you had to hear as he fucked these girls into the wee hours of the night.

it was an excruciating feeling to say the least, something that you had endure for years on end. your feelings hadn’t gone unnoticed by the people around you. in fact most of your friends had commented pretty heavily on the longing stares and dramatic sighs you had sent beomgyu’s way.

they often made fun of how oblivious he was to it all.

in truth, you had started to become fed up in the feeling. you contemplated for years on telling him how you truly felt. hoping and praying he felt the same way. your friends had assured you that he had.

that he always looked at you the same way you did him. that his lingering touches and careful consideration for you was coming from a place of romantic interest. you were beginning to notice the tiny things as well, and at first you blamed it on your delusions. convinced that you were only trying to trick yourself into believing he loved you, but the proof was in the pudding and oddly enough you could see that it was true.

maybe he did love you the way you loved him.

so tonight, as you watched him with this random girl he had brought to your friend get together you decided you’d tell him. as soon as everyone left and was gone for the night. you knew beomgyu had an early morning class so this girl would not be staying, for that you were grateful.

You spent the rest of the night playing board games and trying your hardest to not look to long at beomgyu and nari (the girl he brought over) their sickly sweet cuddling had made you feel nauseous and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

Finally at around midnight everyone had decided to leave, saying your goodbyes had felt relieving. you felt as if you hyped yourself up enough to finally get this over with.

your heart was pounding in your chest but you felt ready.

"gyu.." you called out for him from the living room. he had gone into the kitchen to clean up the dishes from the night. "can we talk please?"

"coming!" he shouted from the kitchen before his footsteps were heard tumbling into the living room to join you.

immediately with one look to your face beomgyu could see that the conversation you wanted to have was a serious one. he sat down on the sofa urging you to sit besides him.

"I don't know how to say this so I'm just going to say it out right." You looked him over, studying him before blurting it out "I'm in love with you."

You held your breath for a moment, your heart thumping so hard you could feel it hitting the confines of your ribcage.

His silence had rendered you wary. your eyes searched his as he did his best to look anywhere but you.

"guy.." you trailed off once again.

"I-i' his stutter had made your heart sink. you had known beomgyu too long, you knew what was about to happen and truthfully you weren't ready for it.

you had expected this to go a completely different direction.

"I'm sorry" he said after a few minutes confirming all of your worst fears "I really like nari..I-i don't-" he cleared his throat looking down at his hands in his lap "I don't feel that way about you."

it was your turn to be silent. struggling to find the words to soothe the rejection you had just been handed. a single nod was all you could muster.

rising up from your spot on the couch you turned to look at beomgyu his eyes still not meeting yours. "I'm going to bed." you whispered walking away.

"y/n' you heard him whisper call after you; you ignored it.

taglist - @belovedhoon @st1llm0nster @blossommi

note - truthfully this is so bad and I know it. writers block is KICKING my ass.

[pouring-rains]

buzzin' (m.s)

cw; rough angst, drug use, drug addiction, yelling

wc: 1.9k

"Fuck-fuck- goddamnit," you say, pacing around frantically your hands going to your hair and pulling out of stress and worry, hurriedly looking through all of your stash spots trying to find any last pills you had left.

Matt was supposed to arrive home soon, and you didn't realize how low you were on your substances, and you knew that the longer you went without the worse your withdrawal would become, and you were unable to hit up your dealer as Matt would be at the house for the rest of the night.

Matt was completely oblivious to your worsening coping habits, unaware of how reliant you were on pills and other substances to make it through the day-- of how desperate you were to feel different, that you were willing to do just about anything, for another bump or another drink.

It wasn't his fault he didn't notice, he's just been busy with work most days, and he was home less and less, only home on some weekends and nights, but you weren't able to talk as much as you used to, matt tired by the end of his long days filming and working so he was always ready to sleep once he was home.

First, it just started as a little fun, you'd been lonely after Matt started coming home less, and you needed something to fill the void even for a little bit, so you took a vicodin, there were some in the bathroom left over from when you'd dislocated your elbow, and you figured that if they were prescribed to you then what was really the harm--and how fucking wrong you were.

That night you sat on your bed for hours staring at the ceiling and feeling like your entire body was buzzing and filled with pleasureful static--your mind the most blank it's had ever been, and ever since-- you'd never stopped chasing it.

Hearing the door creak open, you stop in your tracks looking toward the sound, your beautiful eyes once bright and full now sunken in and empty, and your youthful skin now looking dull and worn.

"hey baby, how was your day," Matt said while setting his things down and heading over to where you were standing silently in the living room and giving you a warm hug, you could feel the tension in your body leak out as his body meets yours, and you hug him back tightly.

"my day was fine, I didn't really do anything much but clean a few things up and watch a couple of shows and movies while you were gone, what about you?" you say trying to keep your voice steady and normal, not wanting to give anything about your condition away.

"well chris was being a dumbass all day he wouldn't stop fucking burping and acting like a fucking idiot, and nick..." is as much as you register before you get lost in your thoughts unintentionally blocking his voice out, your mind going to how you were going to survive the night without anything to pick you up.

"...are you still listening?" Matt asks waving his hand in front of your eyes to pull you from your trance, "shit, sorry Matt, I'm just kind of tired, didn't mean to ignore you," you say apologetically as you wince at your obvious disengagement in what he's saying.

"oh, that's fine, do you wanna head to bed? I'm kinda beat too," he says with a chuckle. "yeah actually, I'd love that I just feel like I can't stay awake right now," you reply trying to sound tired, voicing out a fake yawn in hopes that he believes you.

"yeah, lemme grab my shit real quick, and then ill head up to the bedroom," he tells you before heading over to the bag he'd set down previously, you turn around to start up the stairs knowing he'd be up soon before going into the bedroom.

You quickly shut off the lights to try and prevent him from getting a closer look at you, the withdrawal starting to set in even further, your frame beginning to shiver. your stomach starts to twist into painful knots as you try to coax yourself into sleep to make them go away when you hear the door open and a shuffle before you feel the bed dip down across from you when matt gets into bed next to you.

"goodnight babe," he says gently while covering himself with the blanket and resting his head on his pillow, "yeah, g'night matty," you say softly, controlling your voice's shakiness to the best of your ability.

Soon enough he fell asleep, but as much as you tried, you were unable to-- every crevice of your dependent brain stuck on the thought of drugs, desperate for any little bit to take this feeling away the horrible pain of your body and mind working against you willing to corrupt every nerve ending with immense pain until you filled your body with drugs to soothe the pain of it all--mental and physical.

After a while the pain got unbearable, and you caved. picking up your phone you shot your dealer a quick text before getting up out of bed very slowly trying to make the least amount of noise possible, intent on not waking up Matt.

After making it out of the bed with minimal noise, you shuffle over to the door opening it slowly, it creaks slightly but not enough to rouse Matt from his sleep.

You close the door carefully before walking downstairs, grabbing your purse, and pulling out some cash. Stepping outside you wait impatiently for your dealer to get there, your skin getting goosebumps from the cold weather as your stomach knots in pain.

Finally, after a few minutes of waiting, headlights beam onto you as his car pulls up. hurriedly you pull out your cash while he rolls his window down.

"here's your usual," he says, pulling out a little baggy with an assortment of colored pills roughly 10 or so inside. "thanks," you mumble giving him the cash before snatching the bag from his hand and scurrying back inside, shutting the door behind you softly.

"thank fuck," you mumble to yourself walking over to the counter and snatching two baby blue pills out of the baggy and putting them on the countertop before grabbing a salt shaker left on the counter and smashing the pills with the flat edge. grabbing your wallet you pull out your worn debit card using it to line up the ground pills before grabbing a bill out of your wallet, rolling it into a straw-like shape, and snorting the powder.

"what the fuck are you doing?" snapping your head up you look towards the stairs, seeing Matt standing there looking angry, his mouth curled into a frown and his hair mussed with sleep. Your face pales as you realize what he just saw, and what this means for you–fuck.

Tears start to brim at your waterline as you begin to panic, “nothing matt, just- just go back to bed,” you say your voice quivering with worry as you try to stand in front of the blatant evidence of what you were doing–even though he already saw everything.

“no, I know what the fuck I just saw, what the fuck are you doing!?” he expresses, starting to make his way down the rest of the stairs before you know it he’s standing right in front of you staring over your shoulder at the drugs littered across the table.

Taking a shallow inhale you move away from him going over to the kitchen sink and splashing your burning face with cool water and looking at matt’s still form, his eyes still transfixed on the pills on the table, just as you're about to open your mouth he turns suddenly anger beaming from his face and his body shaking.

“why the fuck are you doing this shit, what the fuck is wrong with you?” he says angrily, running his hand through his knotty hair almost as if he was searching through his head for an answer as to why you were doing these such things, knowing perfectly how horrible and addicting they were.

“because I don't know what the fuck else to do matt, why the fuck do you think!” you shout clenching your fists into balls and digging your nails into your palm trying to alleviate this stress in some way. 

“well, I'm certainly not fucking sure why you started this shit in the first place, why the fuck would you do this? you know how I fucking feel about drugs especially shit like this!” pushing back his hair once again he looks up at you, his anger losing momentum as he fully takes in your broken-down appearance, seeing for the first time how truly beat down you look.

“because I can’t fucking do this anymore matt, I fucking hate living like this, I hate my life, and your never fucking home I don't know what I'm supposed to fucking do anymore!” your voice breaking in the middle of your sentences as more and more tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I-i- don't know how to stop anymore, it just got out of hand so fast and now I can't get through a day without them matt, I don't know what to do,” you say defeatedly, done with lashing out and leaving only exhaustion in place of your previous anger. For a second there was only pure silence after you finished speaking, assuming Matt was either going to leave or was now just ignoring you, until you felt his presence beside you, his warm body wrapping around your clammy figure.

“I- don’t know what to say, I’m so sorry I didn't know everything was getting this bad baby–why didn’t you talk to me? why did you have to turn to this?” he says, pulling you closer while you conceal yourself within his body trying to sink into him in an attempt to disappear so you wouldn't have to deal with all of it anymore–so you wouldn’t have to answer him, tell him how you made a bad mistake and it had snowballed into this big problem you weren’t sure you could ever fix.

“I- don’t know matt, it was just so fucking overwhelming I didn’t know what to do, I’m so so sorry matt,” your tears starting to leak into his hoodie as he tucks you impossibly closer against him trying his best to shield you from all of the hurt and pain you’re being put through mentally.

While his own heart was breaking into pieces for all the pain you were going through, and all the time he didn’t notice and let you dig yourself deeper into this hole of drug abuse, he was doing his best to help you and make sure you knew he was there for you now. “shh- it’s gonna be okay, we can do this together m’gonna help you get better baby, you’re not gonna feel alone anymore okay? I’m so sorry I haven't been around as much and that it got this bad without me noticing, I'm here now I promise, and I'm here to stay, okay?”

“okay matt,” you sigh, hiccuping into his chest, though it was going to be painful, and absolutely fucking horrible–at least now you had someone there, someone to support you and help you through it, and make sure you were happy, and felt loved–and sometimes that makes all the difference.

taglist : @chaossturns @freshlove-sturn @colorthecosmos444 @anxietyriddenblue @immattsslut @muchloveforhacker @pinksturniolo @mattshighway @sabsturned @fratbrochrisgf @star-neo-love @imwetforyourmom @blahbel668

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #5: CADMIUM COLORS

(also on bandcamp and spotify!)

Once again, welcome back to the Constant Companions Closeups - a series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, I wrote a whole diatribe about my OCs while talking about I Wish That I Could Fall, and today, we're eating paint! Cadmium Colors featuring Soneji of Project Mikan!

Consider this a content warning: this post will discuss the pandemic, struggles with mental health, and suicidal ideation/attempts. I'm hoping it'll ultimately be uplifting, but the discussions at hand are incredibly heavy, and it wouldn't do this song right to be vague. Please be warned.

---

Let's talk about COVID.

At the beginning of 2020, I was in the midst of a long-term break from making music. It wasn't completely cold turkey, and I might not have even called it a break if you'd asked me at the time, but things were dire. I was still dealing with the burnout I'd sustained from the making of Autumn Every Day; I'd had my ego bruised by a live performance at a house party that went so hilariously bad it'd hurt even the most stoic performers (imagine watching an entire packed room of people clear out in 5 minutes flat from the already hyper-exposed vantage point of being on stage in front of them and knowing you single-handedly caused that lol); I had just moved across the country, and was preoccupied with trying to make ends meet as a 22 year old dealing with pure adulthood for the first time.

I was working a shitty minimum wage job at a discount clothing store I will not be naming, slogging through late-night shifts that wouldn't get me home until 3 am some nights. I had friends and roommates, but they were all just as overworked and exhausted and dealing with their own shit as me. I was mentally ill and unmedicated. Suicidal ideation was rearing its ugly head at my lowest moments.

Then, as I turned 23, a global pandemic shut the world down, my grandpa died with me being unable to attend his funeral, and I had a catastrophic mental breakdown that suddenly turned the voices in my head into a deafening cacophony of self-inflicted malice.

In hindsight, I think being 23 kinda just does that to you

---

Fast forward to 2021. I was back at my retail job with the pandemic raging in full force, my sense of self was held together with duct tape, positive self-talk essentially didn't exist for me, and I was the loneliest and lowest I had ever been. I was working the fewest hours I could get away with, and still, almost all spare time I had was taken up either by work or by my recovery from it.

This was around the time I got an email from Crypton, of all places - the people that make Hatsune Miku, for anyone uninformed. They wanted a remix of the song Happy Synthesizer for a Digital Stars compilation. I could not for the life of me tell you how I lucked into this or why they reached out to me of all people, but they did, and I was deathly determined to prove myself worthy of it.

This was August of 2021. I was staring down the barrel, languishing in what felt like only half of a life, fantasizing about death and trying to twist my thoughts into something that could at least keep me blearily shuffling forward another couple days. It was untenable.

(I'd also recently been diagnosed with OSDD 1b - this is a whole can of worms I can't really open until we talk about Breeze Blows, but it's important to at least mention that coping with this was a significant part of this turnaround.)

It's melodramatic, but I had only two options - make things again, or die.

I finished that remix within 24 hours of getting the stems, and I will gladly toot my own horn about it - it's really fucking good, in my opinion. Bittersweet ended up coming together in a mad dash over the next couple months as well. I was making music again.

Even though I was exponentially busier, things paradoxically got easier. I made the creative process a priority in my life, and not only did it give me an outlet for everything that had otherwise been eating away at my soul, but it struck a chord with other people who had been struggling as well. Things just... started getting brighter.

So I kept making music and living and yadda yadda blah blah here I am. This is all a lot of words and very personal stories of mental health struggles to say this:

One: The line between being an artist and being one of countless people forced to work jobs that go nowhere, that put their life at risk, that force them to strip parts of themselves away - it is a faint and transparent line built on circumstances of class and privilege and luck. Making Art and being an Artist aren't magical elevated states of existence, but something anyone is capable of if given the space to nurture their creativity. I believe the world should be a place where any person can do this.

Two: It's easy to convince yourself that art is meaningless in the face of the world at large. And yes, revolutions aren't fought by poetry and paintings, and people aren't fed through songs. But art is a source and a medium for connection; Art is how we find beauty in a disorganized and entropic world; Art is what we come home to and what words we write and pictures we paint and songs we sing to remind us that people matter to us and love is real and life is worth fucking living. Maybe that's corny and stupid, but it's true.

Three: So help me God, I will never work retail again in my entire life.

---

This is another song that is heavily inspired by artists like Prefab Sprout, Peter Gabriel, Kate Bush, and other artists of that ilk - very 80s, very flowery and sentimental lyricism, focused on telling a story. I greatly admire songs that aren't afraid to paint otherwise banal or ordinary scenes in abstract reverence!! I wanted the verses to contrast heavily with each other in that way, with verse one's relentless poeticisms (prosaic practice of depravity) and idioms turned on their head (suspending innocents above their disbelief) against verse two's incredibly straightforward depiction of a factory worker's circumstances.

The flowery language might have worked against me somewhat, though! I've seen a lot of folks that thought the ending was darker or much more defeatist than I intended, and while some of that is just inevitable with a work of art, I want to be clear.

Translator's note: this means "don't kill yourself, you idiot"!!

As you may have picked up from the previous post in this series, this song does heavily feature a leitmotif or two predominantly performed under pudgy pretenses. I'm not going to go on that whole novella-length spiel again, but rest assured knowing that this song, too, is one that makes me think about my OCs. Since it's something many people missed, however, I will take a moment to point out that this song quotes none other than Autumn Every Day off of my album of the same name!

Painting and visual art have been something of a reoccurring obsession of mine in my own art. I grew up around visual artists, have always been friends with many visual artists, and generally have a really intense love of it as a medium and a mode of expression. However, there's also always been a sense of... well, I don't want to call it jealousy, but it's jealousy. I've tried many times to start making visual art of my own, and I have made some things, but it's been a struggle, and I worry sometimes that my eye has permanently outstripped my ability.

However, in my quest to toss out grand expectations and simply have fun making art, I did recently pick up a cheap little drawing tablet! I'm excited to be a beginner at something artistic again...

Finally, I want to thank a couple people: Soneji of Project Mikan for the gorgeous, soaring saxophone solo; friend_xp for the mindboggling MV editing; and especially my good friend Que for the GORGEOUS painterly art that goes along with this song! Que's style was just perfect for this, and really tied the whole thing together immaculately!! There's no joke or deeper lore or anything I just fucking love Que's art go follow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And with that, I think this post is complete!! If you have anything else you wanna know about, ask away in the replies! Tomorrow will be Breeze Blows with Marcy Nabors and Marlow Jacobs!!!

MAKE ART AND BE GAY

[prettyykarmaa]

Reckless

GN!Reader x Naib Subedar

Summary - Naib gets chaired during a match. You don't want to leave him behind.

WC - 1,053 (that's actually surprising to me)

Author's Note(s) - This was inspired by @turbulentscrawl's 'Steamy Rescues' post! Please give it a read :]

https://www.tumblr.com/turbulentscrawl/740237408536231936/steamy-rescues?source=share

There is really minor violence in this, but please keep that in mind if that’s something you’re sensitive to. Also, I hc that survivors can communicate via a two-way earpiece!

"The cipher machine is primed. It's up to you now!" Luca's voice exclaims through your earpiece as you make your way to where Naib was chaired. Countless times have you attempted and succeeded in going ahead with risky plans. Still, all that prior experience was not doing much to stop your palms from sweating nor slow down your quickened heartbeat. You had ideas on why that was the case.

For one, the survivors of Oletus Manor have been on an awful losing streak recently, and it's been affecting everyone's morale. Even the survivors with relatively positive outlooks aren't doing so great. If you failed to turn this guaranteed tie into a win, you could practically imagine disappointed sighs and glares of disapproval (directed your way).

There was another idea floating around your mind as you ran, though.

You were nervous about failing him. The ironic part was that you knew he wouldn't hold any true ill-will against you. You're sure he'll call you an idiot, but he's not the type to hold a grudge over something like that. Even the best rescuers fail sometimes. So why were you so worried this time around?

Unfortunately, there wasn't any more time to linger on that question. Not when the chair was in your sight, and Naib's gaze was locked onto yours. He realized what you were trying to do the second he saw you rushing towards him. "Forget about saving me," You heard him say through your earpiece. "Just go for the tie."

"It's too late to do that." You huffed back as you looked away. You hear him let out an amused sigh before he speaks again. "Don't fuck up, then." As you got closer, your eyes scanned around his chair. Nothing. Ominous red light from the hunter? Missing. That was weird, but you convinced yourself to shake it off. Wanting to reach him in time, you forced yourself to run faster, resulting in you almost crashing into him. Almost. Using your hands, you stop yourself by planting them on either side of his head, practically pinning him against the chair.

If you had the time, you would've taken it to admire the sight in front of you. Battle-scarred hands gripped the armrests, and your eyes only traveled upwards, noticing the flex of Naib's biceps through his black long sleeve. Naib's hood had fallen, presumably during the struggle to the chair, revealing his pretty brown hair tied in its usual ponytail. It was disheveled, yes, but you that only made you want to run your hands through it to fix it for him. Yet, that all paled compared to how he was looking at you.

His dull blue eyes were trained on your appearance before reuniting with your gaze. They were filled with something you couldn't put into words, but you'd be lying if you said your heart didn't flutter. Realizing you could've completely misread his expression and he was actually silently judging, you try to save face. "I know I look breathtaking right now; you can tell me about it later, yeah?" You mumbled as you placed both hands on the safety bar and pried it off his lap before carefully taking his hands and pulling him out of the chair.

You were about to finally relax when you felt a shiver down your spine, immediately followed by a butterfly coming from overhead and landing directly in front of Naib. Without a second thought, you go between them and braced yourself. The familiar sting of Michiko's fan blade slashing you made itself known. However, it disappeared as quickly as it came, thanks to Luca popping the last cipher.

With a newfound sense of determination and the pain from injuries you both sustained becoming tolerable, Naib grabbed you by the hand and started sprinting toward the exit gate. "We're almost out. Just hold on a bit longer." He panted as he continued to pull you along. You subconsciously squeeze his hand, and surprisingly, he does it back. Another butterfly whizzes past, this time behind you. He notices and uses the hand holding yours, swinging you in front of him. Michiko barely misses her attack, giving both of you enough time to follow Luca through the exit.

Once you were back at the manor, you beelined to your room. You would've loved to have celebrated the win with everyone, but you were more than ready to sleep. When you were getting ready to turn off your lamp, you heard a knock on the door. You wanted to ignore it, but when there was a second knock, you sighed and opened the it.

It was Naib.

He appeared much more relaxed than he looked during the game, his right hand gently resting on your doorway. It was a good look on him. "Your recklessness never fails to amaze me," he says, shaking his head, which earns him a lighthearted eye-roll from you. "But nonetheless, I'm glad you rescued me despite knowing the risks." Usually, you'd tease him relentlessly for not being upfront with a "thank you," but you decided to play nice. Oh, how you regret not taking that chance.

"You know my conscience wouldn't let me leave people behind. Especially you." You say with a small smile. That second part was an understatement, as you'd drop everything and come running if he asked you to. For the sake of your pride, you didn't tell him that. He lightly scoffs when he realizes you are choosing to be passive tonight.

"It looks like you're getting ready to sleep, so I'll leave you be." He retracts his hand from the doorway, ready to head back down the hallway. Then, remembrance flickers across his face, leading Naib to turn his head back to you. Before you can ask what he was thinking, he suddenly says, "I agree."

"What?"

"You said you looked breathtaking during the game. I think you are all the time, so I agree.

With that, Naib turns around and walks down the hallway, disappearing behind the corner. Quietly closing the door to your room and shutting off the lamp, you crawl under the blankets on your bed. His words continually replayed in your head. Sleeping was going to be a struggle tonight. You would've brushed off what Naib said as him being oblivious (somehow) to how his words could be taken…

If it wasn't for the fact you caught Naib leaving with what looked to be a knowing smile.

He definitely knows.

And much to your dismay, that makes you all the more smitten over him.

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

So fun fact, this is the first time I've ever written a fanfic but I hope it was enjoyable anyways!! Because I'm a minor, I strayed away from making this suggestive and leaned more towards romantic tension. I also had Haunted by Beyoncé on loop for quite a bit of this fic, so I wonder if y'all you can tell LMAO

Tags: @thekeeperofdreams

[kpop---scenarios]

Whiplash (6)

Pairing: Felix x Reader x Hyunjin

Genre: Street Racing, Gang, Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Sexually Suggestive Things, Language, Jealousy, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.2k

Taglist: @sheala--marie @kayleefriedchicken @chartrucewhore @cookiesnmilfx @thicccurls @aznstoner @velvetmoonlght

One | Two | Three | Four | Five |

“You're fucking psycho if you think I'll ever be back in this house again.” You spit. “Who are you? The San I knew would never have done this! Never would have drugged me!” You scream.

Felix and Hyunjin stare at you like they have just seen a ghost.

“I-I never drugged you!” He stuttered. “Are you sure your brain is working?” He laughs.

“There's no way I'd sleep for 12+ hours without you slipping something into my water. I knew it tasted funny!” You yell.

“You mother fucker!” Felix yells, lunging for San. Hyunjin grabs onto him, holding him back. He knows it won't do anyone any good for them to fight, especially you. As angry as he was right now, he knew he needed to do what was best for you and Felix getting into a fight with San would surely not be good for your recovery.

“If I see you out, you better watch your fucking back. I'm sick of you and your shit with Y/N. I swear to god if you touch her again ill fucking kill you.” Felix screams as Hyunjin pulls him outside, with you following closely behind.

Felix pulls himself out of Hyunjin’s grip, walking a little down the short walkway, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.

“I'm sorry.” you whisper. Felix turns around, he looks confused. Hyunjin stares at you in disbelief.

“Sorry for what?” Felix asks, walking closer to you.

“for everything. For believing San over you guys, for coming here, for just everything that I put you through the last little bit.” You cry.

“Listen to me.” Hyunjin starts. “You didn't put us through anything. HE put you and us through hell for his own sick enjoyment.” Hyunjin tells you. You can hear it in his voice how angry and upset he is at the moment.

“Never apologize for this. This wasn't you at all.” Felix chimes in. “So don't feel guilty, don't be upset and don't ever think we're mad at you for any of this.” He finishes.

The three of you walk to the car, Felix opening the passenger door for you before climbing in the back while Hyunjin takes the driver's seat.

“Now.” He starts. “We can go to the house or your apartment, which one do you want?”

“My apartment please.” You breathe. “I begged San to take me there but he wouldn't. I just want to be home.” You say. Hyunjin smiles as he starts to drive in the direction of your place. They were so fucking happy that you had come back to them, but they couldn't help but wonder how long they would have you for before something went wrong, because in their life, something always went wrong.

“Ah, my bed!” You squeal as you lay down gently in your bed, making sure not to hit the still tender wound on the back of your head.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Is there anything we can get you? Do you want us to stay? Go?” Felix asks. He really hoped you would ask them to stay.

“Please stay. I don't wanna be without you guys.” You smile. “I know we're really just starting out this relationship and already so many things have happened..” you pause. “So if you want out, tell me now.” You finish, holding your breath.

They both look confused again.

“Out?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why would we want out?” Felix asks.

“Because. Like I said. So much has happened.” You mutter.

“I've waited years for you baby, I'm not going anywhere unless I'm 6 feet in the ground.” Felix says.

“Yeah, you wanna get rid of me love, you're gonna have to kill me.” Hyunjin winks.

How did you end up so fucking lucky? You usually weren't the one to have the happy ending but maybe now things are finally changing for you?

You get under the covers in your bed, patting either side for the boys. They crawl in with you, snuggling up to you. You can't help but fall asleep so quickly, feeling so safe and loved right now. Over the next week you spent almost all your time in bed with Felix and Hyunjin waiting on you hand and foot. By the end of the week you felt back at 10p% and you were so grateful for them. As the three of you went to bed that night, you had a plan for the next day and you hoped they would be on board.

**

You wake up in the morning, feeling refreshed and sweaty. You have Felix’s arm draped around you with Hyunjin’s leg pinning you down. Your head was kinda sore but not as bad as it had been. You were finally feeling more yourself but you knew you needed to take some advil or something to alleviate the soreness you were in. You felt normal again and you loved it.

“Felix.” you groan, poking up. “Hyunjin. Move. My head is sore. I need something.” You say. Both men shoot up in bed, scrambling out and each running in a different direction to find you something. Minutes later Felix comes back with medicine while Hyunjin appears with some water.

“Perfect.” You smile, taking the pills and water. “Thank you. But you know you really didn't need to rush. It's just a small headache.” You giggle.

Felix looks at his phone, then looks back at you. “The guys want to see you.. I guess Chan is really beating himself up about this.” He sighs. You crawl out of bed, looking for some clothes.

“Well let's go then.” You say, grabbing an outfit to change into.

An hour later you're sitting outside the house. “Are you sure you're up for it?” Hyunjin asks.

“Definitely.” You smile. You wanted your normal life back and you needed them to stop treating you like you were a fragile glass doll. You were more resilient than they knew. The three of you walk up to the door. When the door opened, there stood 6 men with smiles on their faces to greet you.

“I'm so glad you're back, Y/N. Once you're up for it I want a beer chugging rematch.” Han laughs, wrapping his arms around you.

“You wanna lose again?” You giggle, moving on to Changbin who squeezes you tightly.

Seungmin and Lee Know both give you a quick hug, murmuring something you didn't quite catch, while Jeongin pulls you in tightly as well. You walk over to Chan, who's standing a little ways back from the group, his head hangs low as you approach him.

“I should have told the cops it was San..Y/N I'm so sorry for this whole thing. It's my fault.. I should have..” he continues to say, but you cut him off.

“Chan, stop it. You couldn't have known how things were going to turn out. I was fine and then I wasn't but I'm okay now. And I hope you know I'm not mad at you and I don't hold any of your decisions against you.” You say. You open your arms, pulling the sad man into you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, sniffling into your shoulder.

“Alright, alright.” Felix says, pulling you away from Chan. “She needs to rest now, go on.” He says, shooing the man away.

“Lix, I'm fine.” You smile. He looks at you like he's going to melt.

“Lix, huh?” He grins. “I like it.”

“Do you?” You say, matching his grin. You lean in closer to him, your lips brushing against his ear. “My Lixxie.” You whisper.

“Oh baby.” He groans, his deep sultry voice coming out to play. “You're just asking for it, aren't you?”

You turn your head, smirking as you look at Hyunjin. “You think I'm asking for it Jin?” You wink. He chuckles as he walks towards the two of you. “Mhmm, Jin? I don't know.” He sighs.

“How about Jinnie?” You whisper.

“I could get used to that.” He grins.

You lean in, your lips so close to touching before Chan pipes up.

“ Sorry to interrupt boys but we've got business to take care of.” He says, looking at Hyunjin and Felix.

“A race?” You question, looking between the two men.

Hyunjin and Felix both glance at each other before Hyunjin sighs. “Yeah there's a race tonight. But we have some things to take care of beforehand.” He says, looking at Felix.

“Stay here. We'll be back as soon as we can, okay?” Felix smiles.

No. You didn't want to stay. You were better, you wanted to go.

“I'm coming.” You say. You flashback to the last time you went and what happened. But you couldn't be afraid forever.

Felix and Hyunjin knew that they couldn't control you and if you said you felt ready then you were ready. They just hated the fact that they couldn't protect you while they raced.

“Fine. But while we race you need to stay with Chan and Changbin, okay? San will likely be there.” Hyunjin sighs.

You nod your head, excited to be able to see them race again. You stayed at the house while they went out and did whatever they needed to do before the rave, when they were done they swung by the house and picked an excited you up and headed out.

The crowd was larger than you remembered. There were more people racing this time and the spot was a lot bigger. You felt sure that with this many people in this big of a place you wouldn't see San.

“Who's racing now?” You ask Felix as the two of you sit on the bed of someone's truck, watching the tires spin and burn while the flag drops and the cars peel off.

“That would be Got7 in the blue car, I think it's Jinyoung driving. And then it's Lucas from NCT in the yellow one.” Felix says, sliding his arm around your shoulder.

Hyunjin walks over to the two of you, hopping up onto the truck beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

“We're up next. We race against whoever wins this one.” He says. You were nervous, you always felt nervous when they were racing. The chance that there was an accident was really high with how fast they go.

The three of you walked hand in hand towards their group, Got7 had won so they were racing against Jinyoung.

“Be safe.” You sigh, giving both of them a kiss. You link your arm with Chan's as you watch them both walk away. Your eyes scan the crowd, looking at all the people here who were watching, and your eyes landed on someone familiar.

San.

Your body tenses up so much that Chan notices. He looks where you were looking, your eyes locked in with San's.

“It's okay Y/N.” Chan says, rubbing your arm. “We're not going to let anything happen to you.” He smiles. Felix and Hyunjin peel off, the race starts. You knew San was going to be here but it still affected you and you really hadn't thought it would have.

A few minutes later you notice the rest of the guys standing in a half circle, talking to someone. Chan glances over and immediately a grin plastered across his face. “I'll be right back.” He says, pulling his arm from yours and walking over to the others. You stand there alone, peeking over to see a very beautiful girl that they were all talking to. You had no idea who she was but they were all clearly smitten with her. You looked through the crowd again, but didn't see San anymore. You started to calm down a little bit now, feeling like maybe he had left.

Until you feel someone grab your wrist and try to pull you. You look over, seeing San with your wrist in his hand, pulling you towards him.

“Come with me please.” San says, pulling a little harder.

“No. Let go of me.” You say, trying to yank your wrist from his grasp.

“Y/N stop, I just wanna talk.” He says. He starts walking towards the trees, dragging you with him. You turn your head.

“Chan!” You yell. He doesn't hear you. “Chan!” You scream a little louder. He puts up a finger, “just a second, Y/N.” He yells, not even turning around. You didn't have a second.

“I just want to explain!” San grunts. You're getting too close to the trees. Panic sets in. What did you do?

Scream. Scream Y/N.

You let out a loud, ear shattering scream. Chan and the rest of the guys all turn around, looking for you in horror. Chan sees you, San's hand covering your mouth as he drags you into the trees. He, Changbin and Lee Know run towards you, luckily grabbing you before San could get too deep. By the time they reach you, the race is over. Felix and Hyunjin had won, but instead of staying in the car to wait for the next race, they bolted towards the commotion they saw happening with you. They reach you just as Chan pulls you away from San.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Chan yells.

“I just wanted to talk to her!” San yells, defending himself.

“You okay, baby?” Felix asks, giving you a once over.

“How did this happen?” Hyunjin yells. “I thought you were keeping an eye on her!?”

“I was! I was talking to Jennie.. just for a minute.” Chan says.

“I yelled for you! You told me just a second!” You breathe.

Chan hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Y/N. I really didn't think he would try anything.”

“Hyunjin, you go race, I'll stay with Y/N.” Felix says, wrapping his arm around you, taking you away from the group. He had never been more angry at his leader than he was at this moment. The two of you sit there, your head resting on Felix's shoulder. You watched Hyunjin in the car waiting for the race to start. He looks over at you, blowing you a kiss. You grin as you blow one back to him. Felix takes his finger, placing it under your chin, turning your face towards his. He smiles at you before leaning in, placing a tender kiss on your lips. You feel like you're going to melt with the way his lips feel on yours.

He breaks the kiss as he hears the crowd screaming, Hyunjin was racing San. You could feel your anxiety in the pit of your stomach. If San did anything or tried anything, you swore you would kill him.

Hyunjin takes off, you watch as he speeds off leaving San in the dust. You watch intensely where the cars come around the bend for the finish line. You were desperate to see Hyunjin come first. After minutes of waiting, you see him. San closely behind him. Hyunjin switches gears, The car takes off even faster, crossing the finish line well before San. The crowd erupts in cheers. You get off the truck, running towards Hyunjin. You push through the crowd of people and he grabs you, picking you up in a hug, spinning you around. He sets you down, kissing you passionately before the guys come over to celebrate.

“We're going to the club tonight!” Chan yells. “Time to celebrate!” Everyone cheers. You turn around, seeing a defeated San walk towards his group. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

**

Later that night, you were dressed and ready to head to the club. You were so excited to go and dance with your boys, drink, let loose and have a great time.

“Ready?” Felix asks as he walks into the room.

“Ready.” You smile, walking towards him. He lets out a whistle as he grabs your hand to twirl you around.

“Wow.” He gasps. “Hyunjin.” He yells. “Come here.”

Hyunjin walks into the room wearing a black dress shirt tucked into his black pants, same as Felix and they both looked so fucking good.

“Jesus.” Hyunjin grins. “So sexy.”

You can feel the blush creep across your face as you giggle at the compliments. “Let's go, you two.” You say, grabbing both their hands to drag them out of the room.

“You sure?” Felix asks as you tug him along. “We could just stay home? There's a few things I can think of to do.” He smirks.

“Yeah, it would be a lot more fun.” Hyunjin agrees.

“We're going to celebrate you two. Shush.” You giggle.

The club is packed. You walk in feeling the bass pound through the floors, the smell of sex and sweat fills the air. The three of you make your way to the bar, ordering a few different shots. This felt nice, being out. It felt normal which you loved. After some shots you three made your way to the dance floor. Hyunjin behind you, Felix in front. You hadn't drank in so long that it didn't take very long for the booze to kick in. You stuck out your ass, grinding it onto Hyunjins crotch while Felix was between your legs, his body pressed up against yours. The whole thing was extremely hot, and it made you even hornier than you were to begin with. the feeling of both their hands roaming your body, Hyunjin's breath on the back of your neck, Felix's breath on your ear. You'd let them fuck you right there.

After an hour of dancing, you excused yourself to the bathroom. You could feel your pussy was dripping wet for them and you couldn't wait to get home tonight. You come out of the bathroom, searching for Felix and Hyunjin. You look around and finally see them standing side by side talking to the same girl that had been at the races. You could see her laughing, throwing her head back as she touched both their arms. That pissed you off. You make your way to the bar, sitting on a stool, ordering a drink. You barely notice the man sitting beside you. The bartender sets a drink and a shot beside you. You grab the shot, turning around in your seat to watch your boyfriends with Jennie. You wondered how long it would take for them to notice you hadn't come back yet or if at all. Maybe they were so immersed in the conversation with Jennie they completely forgot they had a girlfriend. You take your shot, setting it down on the bar before grabbing your drink and turning back around again. You're sipping on your drink. And sipping. And sipping. Until you're done and they still haven't noticed. You turn around, ordering another shot and another drink, turning back again to watch them.

You take your shot and before you can turn to grab your drink, there's a man standing in front of you.

“Hello.” He smiles.

“Hi.” You say back staying straight faced.

“Are you here alone?” He asks.

“No.” You deadpan, looking around him to see Hyunjin and Felix.

“I'm talking to you.” He laughs, moving in front of your view.

“And I'm not interested.” You snap, looking up at him.

“Woah, calm down.” He laughs. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“I have a drink.” You sigh.

“Wanna dance?” He asks.

“No.” You say. “Go away please.”

“Ah, just come dance.” He laughs again, grabbing your wrist.

“Bro.” The guy next to you snaps. “She's not fucking interested. Move along.”

“Okay, bro. Is she your girlfriend?” The man asks.

“Doesn't matter if she is or not. She doesn't want to dance, she doesn't want a drink, move the fuck on.” He says, removing his hand from your wrist. The guy scoffs before leaving you alone finally.

“Thank you.” You say looking over at the man who helped you. You squint your eyes, looking a little closer. “Jinyoung?” You ask.

“Yeah?” He responds, looking at you funny.

“You were at the races.” You say. “You raced against Hyunjin and Felix.”

“Yeah I did. Oh! You're their girlfriend. That's right. I remember you.” He says.

“Thank you again for helping me. I appreciate it.” You smile.

“It's no problem. Where are those two anyways?” He asks.

You nod your head in their direction. They were still talking to Jennie and you were fucking annoyed.

“Ah.”

“I've been waiting to see how long it takes for them to notice I haven't come back from the bathroom. And this is embarrassing.” You sigh.

“That sucks. She's such a fucking cunt too.” He laughs. “She puts on a good show of being nice and flirty.”

“I don't want to be jealous. But I am. Cunt or not, they haven't even turned their heads to even peek for me. I'd love to make them jealous.” You laugh.

“Do you wanna dance?” Jinyoung asks. “I'm all for helping out.”

You grin at him as you nod your head. Maybe they won't forget about you to flirt with someone else next time. Jinyoung grabs your hand, pulling you towards the dance floor as you quickly chug your drink. He pulls you past Felix and Hyunjin, you turn your drunk head to smile at them, sticking your tongue out as you get to the front of the dance floor with Jinyoung. In their line of vision perfectly. He places his hands on your waist as you dance with him, moving your hips seductively. You can see the instant anger plastered across both their faces. You weren't sure if it was because you were dancing with another man, or because that man was Jinyoung. You continue to dance, giggling as you stick up your middle finger to them both, making them both slightly laugh. They walk away from Jennie, who turns to watch them, looking offended that they just left in the middle of a conversation.

“Y/N.” Felix says, using his deep voice.

“What?” You ask, still dancing.

“What are you doing?” He asks.

“Dancing.”

“Why are you dancing with another man?” Hyunjin asks.

“Why are you two flirting with Jennie?” You ask, now glaring at them both. “I've been out of the bathroom for 45 minutes, watching you two, neither of you wondered where I was?” You scoff.

“Baby..” Felix starts.

“Don't baby me.” You scoff. “Jinyoung here saved me when some creepy man was trying to force me to dance with him. Where were you two?” You slur.

You turn around facing Jinyoung who had been silent the whole time you'd been talking to them. You keep dancing, only for a second before Hyunjin pulls you away from Jinyoung. You turn to look at him, mouthing a ‘thank you’ as you giggle at the angry men guiding you away. He just laughs.

“I don't need help.” You say, pulling your hands away from them.

“I didn't like that.” Felix says as the three of you get outside. “Seeing you with him.”

“I could have beat the shit out of him.” Hyunjin says.

You say nothing, you just keep walking, both men behind you. You can hear them whispering but you can't hear what they're whispering about. Until you're grabbed, and dragged into an alley. You're pinned against the wall as an angry Hyunjin and Felix stare at you.

“Did you like it?” Hyunjin asks. “the feeling of his hands all over your body.”

“Did you feel his cock on your ass as you grinded with him?” Felix asks.

“Yes and yes.” You say, smirking. You wanted to rile them up. You loved it when they were jealous. You push them out of the way, continuing to stumble your way back to the house. You looked down and then back up, and Felix stood in front of you. He swiftly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. He walks the opposite way you were and sets you down inside a car.

You had forgotten they drove here. Felix slides in the backseat with you. You lay on your back, propping yourself up with your elbows as Felix lays semi on top of you. Hyunjin races to the house.

“I don't ever want to see another guy's hands on you ever again.” He whispers in your ear. Hyunjin pulls up to the house in record time, helping you out of the car as Felix gets out on the other side. Hyunjin pins you against the car.

“You're gonna be in big trouble if you ever do that again.” He says, placing kisses down your neck.

“Am I not in trouble now?” You gasp.

“Oh you are.” Felix smirks.

“Well so are you guys.” You say, walking towards the house.

Once you're inside, Felix slams the front door shut. The house is quiet. Everyone else is still out. You slide off your shoes, walking towards the kitchen. Felix grabs you, turning you around, pressing you against the wall. He smashes his lips to yours, kissing you harshly as he pulls up your dress. Hyunjin comes over to the two of you, peppering kisses over your neck as Felix pulls down your panties.

“After tonight, you're not going to want any other man to touch you.” Felix grunts.

This is what you had desperate been waiting for, and you couldn't fucking wait.

[darling-to-death]

I'm feeling self-indulgent, so here's some DOL headcanons about the Lis taking care of you when you're sick.

Kylar -Oh he's on cloud 9. You're so helpless! -You HAVE to stay in bed, so you're easy to find! And watch. :3c -Please just sit back and let him take care of you. <3 -Which he does… to the best of his ability… -But he kinda gets sidetracked and pervy. -Like he'll make you a lovely soup, but there's a special ingredient in there you probably wouldn't want to consume if you knew it was in there. -Or he'll tuck you in for a nice nap, but you have a hazy fever dream of someone straddling you and panting. -Gosh, you woke up so "sweaty" your skin feels sticky… -He lets you cuddle with his stuffed animals to make you feel better. -It's honestly quite sweet. Those toys were a great comfort to him at one point… -After his parents turned, he didn't have anyone to take care of him when he was sick. -So he'd hug his toys to feel some level of comfort. He hopes they do the same for you. -Although he would prefer you cuddle him. -Because he gets way too up close and personal, he catches whatever bug you've gotten. -He expects to be nurtured and attended to just as he did for you.

Whitney -He does not want to get sick. -Fuck you for getting sick and putting him at risk. -Cuz he can't just leave you like this… -I mean, how's he gonna have fun if his favorite slut up and dies on him cuz of some weak-ass common cold? -So he takes care of you. "Begrudgingly." -He wears a mask the entire time. -He refuses to get too close to you. -Honestly, he mostly just drops ramen soup and cold medicine in a bag before leaving you to your own devices. -But he's always popping in to check up on you. -He'll peek his head through the door to see if you're doing any better. -Sometimes he'll gently press his palm against your forehead to check your temperature. -If it's too high, he'll get a worried look on his face. -He'll remind you to take your fucking medicine so you don't boil in your own skin. -He misses you.

Robin -Oh Robin is both horribly underprepared and the most equipped to deal with you being sick. -You've known each other your entire lives. Of course he knows how to take care of you. -But you take care of him… That's the arrangement, right? -The longer you stay in bed, the less time you have to make money for the both of you. -He shudders to think what will be done to you when you're too weak to fight back. -He panics thinking about what will be done to him. -He tries to balance his time between tending to you and tending to his lemonade stand. -He needs to work extra hard to make sure you both have enough money at the end of the week. He knows you have something saved up, but he doesn't know if it's enough. -But the more he works, the more you're alone. And you're so helpless like this. -It's a constant mental struggle trying to prioritize what you need more. -He feels selfish for wanting you to get better, because he knows that desire is partly motivated by his need for you to support him. -He plays video games beside you to try to keep your mind off your illness. -You fall asleep to it as background noise. -He likes watching you sleep. -When you're awake, he can all too often see the anguish on your face. -Sleep is the only place you're free. -He hopes you have good dreams.

Eden -He hates being sick. -Living alone in the woods means there's no one to take care of you when you're sick. -It doesn't matter if you feel like shit, if you don't keep up with your chores it could mean the difference in surviving or not. -…But that's living alone in the woods. -Now he has company. -He'll be a little more lenient with you. -He'll try to cook meals, so you don't get your germs in the food. -He'll let you bathe separately, but he still insists on washing you. -He makes an extra trip into town so he can buy you some medicine. -He'll try to be extra quiet. -He's already not much of a talker, but he'll the sounds around the cabin to a minimum. -He knows congestion can cause sinus headaches, and he doesn't want you to be in any more discomfort than you already are. -He reads silently, but he still wants to sit beside you. -He likes patting your head as you head it in his lap, so he still feels like your little nightly ritual continues even in your illness. -He doesn't wait for you to fully get better before putting you back to work. -Once your fever breaks it's back to keeping him company.

Avery -This is quite an inconvenience for him. -You had to miss your date, because you fell ill, and he looked like a fool waiting for you to show up. -When he sees you around town one day, he pulls over to yell at you. -But you look like SHIT. He can immediately tell you've come down with something. -He's still pissed, but he kinda understands… -He offers to drive you to the doctor. -He stays in the waiting room while you have your appointment. -You're honestly surprised to see him still there when you leave. -He says not to make a big deal out of it. -He can't have his arm candy looking half-dead. -Even if you are sick, looking that ragged is bad for his reputation. -He drives you home, but he doesn't drive you back to the orphanage. -He brings you to some hotel. -He knows the kind of squalor you live in. Being in that filth can't help your recovery time. -He pays for you to have a room for a few days. -Room service brings you your meals. -He calls you every day to make sure you're resting and taking your medicine. -He'll know if you're lying. -When you're better, he expects his kindness to be paid back in droves.

Sydney -He'll make sure to pray for your health from now on when he visits the temple. -He makes sure you're still eating and drinking plenty of fluids! -You can't get better if you don't give your body fuel to fight off the illness. -He likes taking care of you… -Your face is so flushed due to the fever. -Your nose is clogged up due to the mucus, so you have to pant and breathe through your mouth. -He watches your chest rise and fall with labored breaths. -…He tries to ignore that sight. -But you make it rather difficult. -The way you weakly reach out for him, the way you call out his name so soft and weak… -You really need him, don't you? -He's taking care of you because he cares. -Not for any ulterior motive. -Not for any joy on the power he has over you. -He'd never use that power to harm you after all. He's a good boy. -…But the fact he could do something, well, maybe he thinks about the possibilities a little too much. -He's happy when you're feeling better. -He misses seeing you so weak before him.

[hxrnyforsturns]

guess C.S

based off of guess by billie ellish and charli xcx

SMUTT. p in v, oral sex,nudity. swearing. tattoos. making out. pet names.

y/n X chris sturniolo

you: pink

chris: orange

friend: purple

a/n i haven't seen enough fics about this song so im adding to it ;) it like 2 am i wrote all of this in one night. i'm not proof reading it so there is probably a lot of errors but idgaf.

i was out with my best friends shopping after we got tattoos together. we got matching lower back tattoos. the design was a heart with a pretty design on the sides of the hearts, kind of looking like wings. all i could think about was chris's reaction to it. an up beat song is blasting through the speakers as we walk into a victoria's secret in search of nice lingerie.

"i know i got chris a lot of gifts for his birthday but i see him today for the first time since he left for his birthday. so i was thinking ill get a special set in his favorite color and surprise him. what do you guys think?"

"girl your gonna get an orange set? that's gonna be hideous "

"not in his eyes"

"whatever do what you want, i'll be getting an actual nice color!"

i roll my eyes at her comment. he was very special to me so the least i could do is get a set in his favorite color, even if it will not look good. i rummage around the colors, i found a vibrant orange mesh thong with a matching mesh bra. it was bedazzled on the straps of both pieces, it also had a slight leopard print on them. they were both exactly my size, it was a sign, i had to get it. i ran to the checkout

"wow that's a color!"

"he's gonna love it! i'm so excited!!"

i arrived home with my shopping bag. chris wasn't home from the airport yet so it gave me time to try on and wear my new purchase. i slipped on both pieces and they were gorgeous, i was afraid that it wouldn't look to good on me but it was phenomenal. my new favorite set. i put shorts and a big t shirt over it so i could surprise him once he got home.

an hour or two passed. i was watching tv and i heard the keys jangling. i shot up and ran to the door and there he was. my beautiful boy was there. his eyes looked bluer since he left.

"CHRIS!!"

"hey my love! ugh i missed you so much!" he pulled me in fora hug as he dropped all of his bags on the floor of the kitchen

"come on! i have been waiting all week to give you your gift!"

chris opened all of his wrapped gifts. he finished opening all of his gifts except for the one I had bought that was on my body.

"for this next gift, we have to play a little game"

"ooh fun!" he smirked

"guess."

"guess what?"

"just guess a color."

"hmm blue?"

"wrong"

"red?"

"wrong."

"what exactly is the item that i'm guessing the color of?"

"you'll see once you get the color right. i'll give you a hint it's your favorite." i smirked at him while laying him down on the bed

"orange?!"

"correct! now you get to see!"

his eyes widen as i take my shirt off and as my panties make an appearance.

"for me? tonight."

"all for you baby, always and forever."

"that's all i want. wow i like your new tattoo! it's so beautiful. like you!"

we smash our lips together as i fall on top of him. grasping on his hair as muffled moans leave our mouths still pressed together. we grow sloppier and sloppier. i pull away just to kiss down his neck to his collar bone. i make it down to his stomach and i tug at his boxers letting him know i want them off.

"please?"

he immediately rips them off. his cock sprung out to his stomach. i grasp it and start to kiss the tip of his dick.

"god i've missed you so much."

i take his length in my mouth the farthest it could go in my mouth. my eyes start to water. he's nonstop groaning as he stares at me.

"fuck- i wish you could wear that everyday it's really turning me on." he expresses in between pants.

"fuck baby. m'gonna- cu-" he shot his load in my mouth and around my face

"shit baby i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to!"

"no need to apologize baby." i took my finger and dragged it around my face gathering his cum on my finger.

"want a taste?" i shoved my finger in his mouth.

"god baby never take that outfit off. "

he fidgets with the black bow on the waistband. i'm laying on the bed and chris plays with my panties. he pulls them to the side and my head shot up. he buried his face in my pussy. he licks everything like it's his last meal. he stuck his tongue as well as his fingers. i grasp the sheets so tight i feel they will rip any second. i moan loud as ever he detaches his lips and finger for a moment. he grabs my panties off my body exposing my throbbing pussy. he kept the panties in his mouth for a moment as he tore his shirt off. he had them in his hand for the duration of the night. he grabbed his dick and shoved it in, a loud gasp coming from my mouth.

"oh my fuck, your the best ever. don't stop there." i'm staring up at him as he holds my panties in his mouth while his hands on my hips as he aggressively thrusts into me.

"i'm about to cum now baby"

"same- oh my FUCK-"

he pulled out seeing our juices mixed at my pussy.

"that set got me so turned on. best birthday gift ever "

"glad you enjoyed it"

"let me see that tattoo again." he placed kisses for about 3 minutes on the tattoo as he drifted to sleep on my bare ass.

chris never goes anywhere without my panties in his pocket.

[brotherwtf]

Having thoughts about age gap au Gale hiding an injury/illness from John because his dad always made him feel like a burden and that hurt was deserved 💔 and John losing his mind but trying not to show it as he takes care of Gale, or maybe he doesn't get to because Gale has to go to the hospital and John gets the call while he's at work </3 these boys can fit so much whump and trauma and comfort

ughhhh yes putting Gale into the whump blender again :(( I want to traumatize this boy forever that is my lot in life

----

Gale knew to never show weakness. It's what he was taught from an incredibly young age, weakness meant you could be picked from the crowd, weakness meant that you weren't good enough.

There was a lot of things Gale's father viewed as a weakness. Being sick, scraping your knees, getting hurt and you better not think about crying because at that point you'd be better off dead anyway. Gale learned to hide it whenever he got sick, to lick his wounds in solitude, and to never, ever, ask for help or pity.

So Gale didn't even flinch when he woke up with a 102 degree fever. He's lived through worse, no need to be a baby about it. He got ready for his classes like normal, kissed John goodbye, and waved off his looks of concern when John pressed his cheek to Gales forehead, fretted about him running hot. Gale was fine, he didn't need John's help.

He was able to get through his first class without many problems, he felt waves of nausea periodically and some bouts of lightheadedness, but Gale wasn't going to let that take him down. His second class was a little worse, his hands quivered when he tried to write and the nausea stayed, no longer ebbing in and out in waves.

Gale passes out around lunchtime, Marge by his side and all he can really hear is her anxious fretting, calls of his name and yelling at someone to phone the hospital. He remembers weakly trying to push her off, says he's fine, but Marge tells him to shut the fuck up, he's going to the damn hospital. He doesn't remember much after that.

He wakes up to the soft beeping of a heart monitor, the bright fluorescent lights of a hospital room and he groans. Gale shouldn't be here. He's taking up the space that someone else needs more, he doesn't deserve the time or energy that people are wasting on him. He doesn't get to dwell too much before John is quickly at his side, taking his hand and pushing his hair back. His lips press into a thin line, palm pressing against the sure heat that Gale gives off.

"Baby? Are you okay? God Marge told me you collapsed and I left work immediately. Fuck Gale you should have told me you weren't feeling good," John frets and Gale just shakes his head weakly.

"I'm fine, John. I'm good, you didn't need to leave work just for me. When are they gonna let me out?" Gale asks and his voice is hoarse.

John's brow furrows and his expression grows stern.

"Gale, no, you're not fine. You have a 103 degree fever and you're shaking like a damn leaf. I'm not gonna stay at work when I know you're sick," John says and Gale can feel another wave of nausea that isn't caused by the sickness.

Gale turns his head against the pillow, avoiding John's gaze and he can feel his eyes well up. No, no, he can't cry. Crying is the worst thing he could do right now. But the tears come anyway, streaming down his face steadily and John rushes down to wipe them away, fretting all over again.

"Hey, hey, baby, Gale, come on don't cry. It's okay, I'm not mad I swear. You should have just told me you weren't feeling well, I could have helped, then maybe you wouldn't have fainted," John says, a firm thumb brushing away the tears that stream down his face and Gale shakes his head.

"Don't... don't wanna be a burden," Gale manages to choke and John shushes him and forces Gale's head to turn towards him.

John's face is both soft and firm, his eyes filled with emotion that's both frustration and affection. Gale hates how worried he looks, just because Gale's a little bit sick.

"Gale, you will never be a burden to me. I promised your mama I would protect you, and I promised you the same. I love you, Gale, and if it takes me dropping everything for you to understand how much you mean to me, I'll do it in a heartbeat," John says, cupping Gale's face with both of his hands.

Gale squeezes his eyes shut because he knows if he looks at John anymore he'll just ugly sob, grabs John's wrist and nuzzles his soaked face into it, gasps and chokes as he continues to sob, John shushing him and bringing him in closer until their foreheads are pressed together, breathing heavily against his face.

"I swear, Gale, you are not a burden. You are my everything, doll, my everything," John whispers, and Gale can only nod, finally allowing himself to melt into the sheets, letting himself feel fatigued and exhausted and sick because John is letting him, allowing him to let go.

[heartfullofleeches]

Alright awesome, uh aHEM-

Y/N trying to comfort Theodore: “Listen man I’m really sorry about the divorce, you two really loved each other so it must’ve been really rough.. If you need any help or just want someone next to you then know I’ll be right here for you okay? And hey on the bright side, there are plenty of fish in the sea! I’m sure you’ll find your one and only eventually”

Meanwhile Theodore is internally flipping out cause: Oh my god the divorce was actually a blessing in disguise she’s finally gone and fuck I think I really love Y/N and they’re sitting here comforting me and touching me I want them so bad what do I do fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Theodore never liked coffee. The bitterness clung to the roof of his mouth and caffeine gave him jitters til next week if he drank too much. With the kids and all his school work pilling up, he needed something to keep him awake and everything else he tried had no effect. He experimented with different creamers and sugars, and created the perfect mix to help it all go down. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a crime to ask his then girlfriend to pick up his drink of choice whenever she bought drinks for herself - only to be handed a black coffee everytime.

"Ta-da! One iced latte. They didn't have that toffee creamer you like so I raided your fridge. Once you're feeling better, we really need to get you out of this house, mister."

His blanket falls from his shoulders as he reaches out. "... thanks."

His voice was hoarse and scratchy; startling even him as it crawled from his throat. It sounded foreign to him, but that's exactly what that woman did. Somedays he couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a glimpse of the shy, awkward teen he used to be - and the stranger that person had because. He was a wreck. He hadn't slept. He only showered when he had to pick up the kids from their grandparents. He hadn't eaten anything in days... until you brought him food. Back in your highschool days you'd pay him with his favorite foods in favor of completing some project you forgotten about. While his tastes had changed a lot over the years, he gorged himself on everything you brought until he felt ill.

Theodore tears the lid of the cup and swallows the concoction, not stopping for a breath. Your hand flies to his back as he chokes. "Take it easy, Theo. Give me that."

You pry the cup from his hands as you sit beside him, weighting his palms against his lap until his shakes quiet. "It's going to be okay. You'll find someone when you're ready to look again and I'll always be here to support you."

You always have been. Years went when he forgot about his own birthday and it seemed like the entire world had to - and there you were, cake and a new book in hand. You were his rock through thick and thin; a vow he made with his ex. The guilty euphoria when people mistook you as his spouse instead of her. Beside what he did with his kids, Theodore had forgotten what it was like to enjoy another's company - reminded each time you came around. He couldn't make this about himself. He couldn't.

"The kids.... Erin's still so young. How am I going to tell them."

"Sometimes, a separated home is better than a dysfunction one. It won't be easy and they'll always come before anything, but right now you need to focus on yourself and what you want in life."

Your hands tighten around his. What does he want? He wants to go back to the night he took that cigarette from her. He wants to scream and hit his younger self for following her at that party. He wants to go back and stop the arrangement that kept his mind off the study partner that always came up with an excuse when it was time to hit the books, but there when he needed them most. He wants to tell them how they made him feel. He still does. He wants to love you - and now he finally.... finally can.

"Hold me.... Please, I just want...you to hold me."

His glasses fog up. You wipe the tears from behind his lenses as your arms envelope him. Eyes misty, all he feels is the pull of your warm embrace and he breaks. Theodore wraps the blanket around you and centers his hearing on the steady beat in your chest. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. If he has that to listen to every night, he won't need caffeine - or anything else for that matter. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

[suzukiblu]

is there a way to read all of "JayKon soulmates, TimKon datemates, and the wrong Superboy." in one spot? going through the tag it's all jumbled, and it's one of my favorite fics of yours

Thank you! I like that one, I'm really pleased with how it's been coming out. ❤

Honestly, there is not an "all in one place" version of it, though, so have this read-more that will fix that problem for you, friend. This is the whole WIP so far (barring, like, some out-of-order bits that have not yet been woven into the larger whole, haha).

.

There's a couple of ways to ID a soulmate, but the traditional–and usual–one is a kiss. Basically any exchange of bodily fluids will do it, of course, but most people kiss way before they get around to fucking bareback and a kiss is also definitely less likely to result in hepatitis than swapping blood with strangers. And, like, it's also more romantic and that tends to appeal to people more even when the involved soulmates aren't actually romantic. It's way easier to laugh off that one time you slipped your destined BFF tongue than it is to explain a bloodborne illness to your GP. 

So naturally, Jason finds out who his soulmate is by accidentally bleeding all over the guy in the middle of a random stupid throwdown with supervillains in San Francisco.

Also, naturally said guy is Tim's boyfriend who still justifiably hates Jason's ass for all the fucked-up shit he's done and said to Tim. 

Jason is pretty sure this would count as another reason for Superboy to hate his ass, except the one mercy in this situation is that Superboy was unconscious for their accidental blood-swap, so he at least doesn't know they're soulmates. 

The lucky bastard.

Fuck everything, Jason thinks, and then resolves to never think about it again. Which he doesn't, because even having a thought around Bruce is basically the same thing as handing the bastard a signed confession. 

It sucks, admittedly? Like, Jason's not gonna pretend it doesn't suck. He didn't ever think he'd get a coffee shop meet-cute with his soulmate, assuming he had enough of a soul left to actually have one, but he'd at least expected to get somebody who wasn't already dating the brother he's treated worst and who did not, ideally, hate his guts. 

Or who at least hated his guts in a sexy way that could result in a nice enemies-with-benefits situation to spice up his sex life and maybe hopefully one day evolve into . . . he doesn't know, frenemies-with-benefits? Or something? 

Superboy is not gonna be up for cheating on his boyfriend with said boyfriend's adoptive brother, Jason is very damn sure. For one thing, if he was, Jason wouldn't want to fuck him anyway, much less be his soulmate. Jason is a murderer and a bastard but he is also a ride or die, okay, and he doesn't give a shit what the universe says, there is no damn way that he'd accept a soulmate like that. 

Also, like, since the accidental blood-swap went down, now when they get close enough there's an empathy bond going and Jason can absolutely feel how fucking besotted Superboy is by every little thing Tim does and says and just is. 

And he can also feel how much the guy hates him. 

Jason has never had better control of his pit rage than since realizing that if Superboy ever felt it, it'd be absolutely undeniably obvious what it was and where it was coming from. 

It is fucking amazing what a desperate person can get a handle on. Like, really. 

Jason went to fucking therapy for this shit. It sucks and he hates it and he wants to burn down the whole stupid office every time, but he's still going every week because fuck forbid he lose control enough that somebody realize something is up. 

Jason's self-control is not helped by the fact that Superboy has his own anger issues, but it's not like they get all that close to each other all that often anyway. He very rarely has to worry about Superboy picking up on anything from him. Mostly he just has to worry about not being any worse to Tim than he already has been and making excuses to avoid any situation that Superboy might theoretically pop up in. He has absolutely no designs on fucking up Tim's relationship. Ever. 

He guesses he and Superboy could have a platonic bond, admittedly. Like, that's possible.

Except Superboy constantly insists on wearing a painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather and strappy belts and looking like a porn star parody of a superhero, along with regularly smirking like a cocky asshole who just so happens to be the second coming of sin, and Jason has a very difficult time not finding all of that just unspeakably hot, so that seems unlikely. 

So yeah, Jason's definitely not telling anyone that they're soulmates. Possibly ever. At least not as long as Superboy and Tim are still into each other and in undeniably perfect romantic love, anyway. 

It's not like Jason's waiting for them to break up or something, or for the probably likelier but much more upsetting option that is Tim fucking dying. He's a bastard, again, but he's not that kind of a bastard.

He really hopes this is just one of those bullshit bonds that don't actually become relevant until the involved bondmates are, like, octogenarians or whatever. Which is not something Jason would've ever expected to want from his soulmate, but Jason also did not ever expect his soulmate to turn out to be Tim's boyfriend, so yeah. Well, life's a bitch and also full of surprises. 

It's impossible to always avoid Superboy, all things considered, but Jason usually can, and thanks to Bat-training and his time with the League and just who he is as a person he's very good at keeping his emotions on lockdown when the dude's around without it actually looking like he's keeping his emotions on lockdown. Mostly he just ignores him and acts like he thinks he's irrelevant, and Superboy seems perfectly happy with that. 

But again, it's impossible to always avoid him, and they're on the same side and everything, more or less. Jason therefore can't technically bitch about the guy randomly landing in the middle of his rooftop stakeout wearing that cocky asshole smirk of his and also his painted-on bodysuit and studded black leather. 

Or he couldn't, except that it is very obviously not actually Superboy wearing all those things. For starters, Superboy never wears that smirk when he's looking at Jason.

For another thing, Jason knows his own damn soulmate when he sees him. Like, he is not actually that oblivious or stupid a person as to not recognize his own damn soulmate. 

"Hey, man," fake Superboy greets casually as his boots hit the roof. Jason runs the internal numbers on whether or not fake Superboy has real Kryptonian powers and decides better safe than sorry, then hits the panic button hidden in the collar of his jacket as he turns to fully face him, making the gesture look like an idle adjustment. 

"Robin need something?" he asks, cocking his head questioningly. Seems wisest to pretend like he's falling for this bullshit, whatever it is. Especially if Kryptonian powers are currently a concern. 

"Naw," the fake Superboy says, his smirk widening crookedly. "This one's an . . . off-the-books social call, as it were." 

"Oh, we make social calls, now?" Jason asks dryly, resisting the irrational urge to hit his panic button again. Not actually a helpful urge, that. The thing's already streaming live audio and video to Oracle and the Batcomputer to get everyone in the loop on what the problem is, that's all that matters. Extra hitting would just make it likelier that fake Superboy might notice something. 

"Maybe I just wanted to see you, Hood," fake Superboy says as his smirk turns into a wicked grin, and then steps towards Jason with very familiar and incredibly unsubtle body language that, again, has never once been directed towards him. 

Goddammit. 

Well, good thing Jason hit his panic button, because there is no damn way this is ending well. He's never actually used the thing before, it's a recent addition to his gear now that he and the Bats are actually mostly working together again, but he already appreciates said addition very, very much. 

Assuming that Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight, anyway. 

Fuck, he'd better be. 

. . . also assuming that whoever this fake Superboy is happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Or at least currently happens to be vulnerable to kryptonite. Jason's not sure if this is like a bodyswap situation or a more traditional possession or just a doppelganger or a shapeshifter, but who the hell even knows. Not mind control, he's pretty sure, unless it's the kind that really fucks with somebody's personality. Like, yes, that is Superboy's body language and Superboy's facial expressions and even Superboy's microexpressions, but it's just . . . not Superboy behind any of it. Like, very obviously not. 

. . . weirdly obviously, actually. Like, Jason's really feeling the uncanny valley right now. 

Ugh. 

Well, hopefully this person or thing or weird psychic projection thinks he's fucking stupid. 

"Did you now," Jason says, eyeing fake Superboy through his helmet. Schooling his expression doesn't really matter right now, except of course X-ray vision is a thing, so actually never mind, maybe it does. Again: goddammit. 

Definitely gonna need to keep a handle on his heart rate here.

"Eh, what can I say, Rob was being a basic bitch again and I got bored," fake Superboy says with a dismissive shrug, which is something Jason would pistol-whip the real Superboy for saying but at least provides him a pretty solid script to go off while he waits for reinforcements to show. 

He'd rather be making with the pistol-whipping, though. 

"'Bored', huh," he says instead because if this is somebody hitching a ride in or fully copying Superboy's body, there is no fucking way that he is coming out on top in a one-v-one with a Kryptonian hybrid. He might be able to get away, maybe, but then he'd be leaving a probably pissed-off fake Superboy with free rein on his territory and every reasonably innocent person in it. 

Yeah, that seems like a stupid idea. 

"What can I say, I like a bad boy," fake Superboy says, smirking at him again. Jason would be embarrassingly into that smirk, if not for the fact that it's not Superboy wearing it. Right now, he just wants to deck this fucker. "Don't you?" 

"I could maybe see the appeal," Jason says, though he doesn't usually. Honestly, he's more a romantic than anything else. He knows he won't ever get that, especially considering what he's done and who his soulmate is and how very, very disgustingly in love with his brother said soulmate is, but–not the point. Either way, Jason's not gonna be honest about his taste in partners with a damn fake version of his goddamn soulmate. 

"Yeah, I bet you could," fake Superboy says with a wider smirk as he steps in a little closer, all the way into Jason's personal space. All of Jason's internal alarms go off, his spine prickling in restless discomfort. 

He really, really hopes Bruce is packing kryptonite tonight. 

“We're taking bets now?” Jason snorts dubiously. Fake Superboy grins at him, and it's worse than the smirking because it's not just a suggestive come-on, it's one of the pleased looks the real Superboy would never give him. Something he saves for Tim or Steph or Dick or literally just anyone else. He's pretty sure he's seen him grin like that at Bruce, even. 

Though it admittedly does lack some of its usual effect when Jason can't feel any of the emotions behind it. 

“You can take anything you want, Hood,” fake Superboy purrs, skimming a hand up Jason's chest. If he were Superboy, this would be the part where Jason called him an asshole and asked him what the fuck he thought he was doing, except if he were Superboy he'd never actually be doing this. Superboy loves Tim. Adores him. And he's not a desperate for attention teenager anymore, much less this kind of a selfish fucking prick. 

So Jason is just stuck on this stupid fucking roof with a stupid fucking fake, and this fucking funhouse mirror is the closest he's ever getting to his own fucking soulmate. 

The wait on this damn panic button better be a short one. 

“‘Anything’, huh,” he says, folding his arms. The fake Superboy gives him another smirk and taps his fingers against the underside of Jason's jaw, just where his helmet fastens. 

The fastener clicks, and his helmet falls apart and falls right off him and into fake Superboy's hands. Jason should've left the bomb in it. 

Tactile telekinesis. Okay. So the fucker does have access to Superboy's powers, one way or another. 

Fuck. 

At least Jason wore his domino tonight. He doesn't know what this asshole actually knows, and he might be legally dead, but compromising any Bat-related identities is still not the place to start. 

“You're too damn hot to wear this clunky-ass thing all the time, you know,” fake Superboy says, turning over Jason's helmet in his hands and still smirking at him. Jason would really like to make with the pistol-whipping right now. “Real waste of a pretty face.” 

“We don't all have bulletproof skulls,” Jason says dryly, and fake Superboy laughs. 

“You'd be bulletproof if I got my hands on you,” fake Superboy points out casually, which is not actually an application of TTK Jason was aware of but does raise a lot of questions he is not going to internally explore. Ever.

“Who said you were getting your hands on me?” he says, and the fake Superboy laughs and taps his fingers against Jason’s helmet. 

“Dunno,” he says, tilting his head with a sly expression. “I wouldn’t mind it the other way around either, though.” 

Fuck his life, Jason thinks. 

“I’m on the clock here, you realize,” he says, and fake Superboy laughs again and then pulls a mock-pout. 

“C’mon, Hood. Told you, I’m bored,” he says, somehow actually managing to find the space to step in closer without quite touching him. His grin is a sharp, glittering thing. “Play hooky with me.” 

This panic button cannot possibly work fast enough, Jason thinks. 

“Fuck it, whatever,” he says, because fake Superboy is clearly not taking no for an answer here and he just needs to buy a little time for someone to get here. Hell, even if fake Superboy were taking no for an answer, he’d probably still want to keep the asshole around as opposed to letting him slip off and put on who knows who else’s face. Better to get him while they’ve got him clocked, one way or the other. “It’s been dead all night anyway. What do you want?” 

Fake Superboy’s grin widens. If he was the real one, Jason would want to bite him over that expression. Unfortunately, he’s not the real one. Again: fuck his fucking life. 

“For starters, bet I could liven things up for you,” fake Superboy purrs, and then he props Jason’s helmet on his cocked hip and braces his free hand on the bricks behind him, leaning in close with an absolutely smug “coy” expression. Jason considers biting him in the not fun way. 

Eh, no, he’d probably just break his fucking teeth. 

It’s a fucking temptation, though. 

“Yeah?” Jason drawls dubiously. “Big talk for a Super.” 

Fake Superboy snickers. 

“Yeah, they tell me I’ve got a big mouth,” he says with an obvious leer. “Wanna see?” 

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Jason asks, curling his lip in irritation, and fake Superboy laughs. 

And then actually kisses him, the fucking shit. 

Jason barely manages not to punch him for it. Again, he’d just break his knuckles. 

The fake Superboy sticks his tongue in Jason's mouth and Jason gets absolutely no sense of a soulmate bond, so whatever's going on, Superboy is definitely not in the driver's seat right now, or just not home at all or what the fuck ever. So yeah, that's a no on mind control and probably also possession, and definitely not the effects of red or black K. Not that the total lack of empathy bond response all this time hadn't already proven that pretty damn thoroughly, considering. 

Also, the real Superboy's always had a rep as a flirt and if nothing else definitely spends way too much time in Tim's back pocket to not be a better kisser than this by now. Seriously, Jason refuses to believe that he is not, if only for Tim's sake. This prick kisses like he barely understands the concept.

Fucking figures, Jason thinks, and crushes their mouths together. 

Fake Superboy kisses like a fucking middle schooler, and Jason is absolutely exasperated about having to put up with it. Like–it’d be one thing if it was actually Superboy kissing him like this, and if Superboy wasn’t dating his fucking brother. Then he’d probably think it was funny. Or even kind of cute, honestly, especially with how the guy preens and postures and plays it up. 

And then he’d get to teach him how to kiss better, too, and fucking relish the process. 

This, unfortunately, is not that situation. This is just some asshole wearing the face of the hottest bastard Jason knows and not doing it justice with his sub-par kissing skills.

. . . actually–“her” sub-par kissing skills, maybe? Jason actually has no fucking clue if this is a man or a woman, does he. For all he knows this is an actual middle schooler, which holy fucking Christ, is an absolutely disgusting thought. If this is some kid with shapeshifting powers who somebody coached into this, Jason is going to crack out the good ol’ bloody duffel bag and start collecting heads again. 

He’s pretty sure they’re not, at least, because they might suck at kissing but they don’t move like their body is too big or anything like that. Then again, they don’t move like their body doesn’t fit either, so their powers might be accounting for that. Or–whatever they’ve currently got going. Maybe it’s a fucking spell or maybe it is possession and the muscle memory is keeping Superboy’s body moving at least semi-normally. Again: this asshole has this act down to the microexpressions. 

It’s just so, so screamingly obviously fake all the same, though. 

Jason breaks off the kiss to bare his teeth at said fake, who grins at him all crooked and sultry-warm. Jason, again, debates the merits of breaking his knuckles on this asshole’s face. 

“You can’t kiss for shit,” Jason says bluntly, because only a fucking idiot wouldn’t notice that anyway, and fake Superboy laughs. 

“Aw, you don’t like it like Rob does?” he asks teasingly, his grin widening as he leans forward a little heavier on the arm he has against the bricks. Jason is absolutely fucking offended that fake Superboy is trying to convince him that any brother of his would ever settle for kissing that fucking mediocre, much less like it. As fucking if. “Why don’t you show me what you like, Hood? I’ll roll out the red carpet."

Jason should tase this piece of shit. Jason should <i>shoot</i> this piece of shit. Unfortunately, this still might be Superboy’s body even without him in it, and he didn’t pack kryptonite tonight either way. Assuming, again, that kryptonite would even work. 

He’s absolutely never skipping the kryptonite again, though. Not after this bullshit. He’s going full Lex Luthor and getting himself a pair of kryptonite brass knuckles, in fact. And not in blue: he’s going green. 

“You really think I wanna hear about Robin right now?” he says in the hopes the fucker will shut up a little, and fake Superboy just smirks and loops his arm around his neck, pressing fully up against him. Jason is wearing body armor, obviously, but that doesn’t make him feel particularly safe right now. The TTK alone would be an issue, even discounting Kryptonian strength. Fake Superboy could flatten him like a fucking panini with about as much effort as actually making a panini would take right now. 

So like, that’s a concern. 

“So still the jealous type, huh?” fake Superboy purrs, tilting his head a little. He’s much better at “come-hither” looks than he is at kissing, Jason can’t help noticing, which is fucking irritating. He’s also still got Jason’s helmet held against his hip. Jason is weirdly annoyed by that. “How about I just call you ‘Robin’ tonight, then?” 

Jason did so much therapy to not have this exact fucking fucked-up sexual fantasy. Just so much. 

He is definitely shooting this shithead before the night is over. 

“Try it and I’ll shoot you in the fucking dick,” he says flatly, because there’s playing along and there’s shit he just cannot truck with, and fake Superboy laughs.

“Kinky,” he says approvingly. Jason thinks longingly of kryptonite. 

He really, really hopes kryptonite works on this fucker. It’d have to, right? TTK isn’t exactly a standard-issue superpower; the fake’s got to at least have copied Superboy’s body, and that means copying his vulnerabilities. 

Hopefully. 

Of course, Jason doesn’t actually know jack shit about what’s actually going on here and narrowing it down isn’t working half as well as it could be, so . . . fuck if he actually knows if it’d work. 

He really doesn’t appreciate not being prepared in a crisis. Like–that is the literal antithesis of his entire fucking approach to life, is what it is. 

He’s going to need an extra therapy session this week, he’s pretty sure. Possibly several. Maybe he’ll just call his therapist first thing after they wrap this bullshit up, actually, assuming he survives it. That might be for the best. 

Or literally psychologically fucking necessary so he won’t snap and turn into a literal supervillain. One or the other. 

“You’re seriously overestimating my patience, Superboy,” he says flatly. The fake looks pleased, presumably because he still thinks Jason’s falling for this stupid act. 

“Don’t be such a pill,” fake Superboy says, smirking at him. The idea of pistol-whipping him sounds better and better. It’s almost definitely not gonna work, yeah, but that doesn’t mean Jason wouldn’t try it. “Why don’t you just be nice to me, and I’ll give you plenty of reasons not to be jealous tonight. Or at least don’t bore me as bad as Rob’s been, if nothing else."

Jason is going to burn down . . . mmmmmaybe all of Gotham tonight, actually. Like. Just all of it. Completely. Entirely.