#more of him in his fucking cop outfit cause i just. really like it.

[thegreatirene]

My Best Friends Brother(Carl Gallagher x Latina!reader)



Rated: Mature(language and implied sex)

Summary: after leaving the south side you come back to visit your best friend’s lip and Ian. A lot of things changed around the Gallagher household especially the people living in it.

I watched some clips on tiktok of Carl and forgot how cute he looked in his policeman outfit. So this takes place in like the last season so Fiona is gone but she’s mentioned in it. The read is Latina cuz I am and I want more Latina reader fics out there.

“How long has it been since you left?”

“Shit, like eight? Yea I think it’s eight cause we were still in high school when my family moved.”

You inhaled on the watermelon flavored vape you had as you walked next to lip. You found him walking with a stroller. Surprised the hell out of you when you learned he had a kid and was married as well. You were happy for him and continued your walk with him on his way back to the Gallagher house. He told you about the things you’ve missed. Fiona being the biggest one. You didn’t think she would actually leave everyone behind without a word but you were really happy for her. You didn’t say it, cause you didn’t want to hurt lip’s feelings but she deserved to get out of here.

“No way Mickey and Ian are together! Would have thought they would have fucked a couple times and moved on” you laughed as you handed your vape to lip.

“We thought the same thing. Ian kind of thought that too but they’ve been strong throughout their relationship.”

“That’s cool and them other ones? Debbie and Franny still good?”

“Yea Deb’s had some shit going on with her but she’s fine now. Liam is our smart guy. Little man getting straight A’s”

“I’m not surprised. You and Ian were pretty good in school. I guess it skips a generation” you laugh as lip handed your vape back.

“Yea Carl’s a cop believe it or not”

“No fucking way?!?! Carl, Carl? The little boy who beat and tortured people just for the fun of it? The one we all thought was gonna be on the most wanted??? That Carl?” Lip nodded his head as the both of you stopped in front of the gate that was in front of the Gallagher’s house.

“I swear it,” lip held his hand up, “he should be dropping by soon if you want to see him?” You laughed as you said yes and went into the house with him.

—

“Man it still looks the same” you took your jacket off as you hung it on one of the empty hooks by the door. Walking further in you could hear voices in the kitchen and made your way in. Lip put his son in the playpen and walked towards the kitchen. Standing at the counter with his back to the doorway was Ian. Mickey looked around him and nodded towards you.

“Holy shit, here I thought you got deported” Mickey said as he took a sip of his coffee. Ian turned to see who he was talking to and broke out into a smile.

“And I don’t know how many times I have to tell your racist ass that I was born here-“ Ian grabbed you into a hug in the middle of your rant to Mickey.

“It’s so good to see you y/n” he kissed the top of your head as you squeezed him to you. You pulled back from the hug but still in his arms as you got a good look at his face.

“Still the pretty red head” you patted his cheek as you hugged him again. The both of you laughed as you felt Ian being pulled back a bit.

“Ok enough of that” Mickey said as he pushed Ian back from the shoulder and looked at you.

“Don’t get jealous Mickey. Ian is all yours he doesn’t like pussy remember?” You laughed as he mocked the laugh and pulled you into a hug. He patted your back a couple of times and then pushed you off of him and walked back to his seat.

“So it’s just you two here?”

“Yea Liam is at one of his friend’s house and Deb’s at the park with Franny.” You nodded your head.

“Lip said Carl’s a cop?”

“Yea he’s changed a lot” Ian offered you a cup but you declined it. Lip made a ‘I told you so’ face as he walked in front of you to get his own cup.

“He grew into that big ass head of his?” You questioned as you laughed at the memory of the little boy.

“Who has a big head?” Came Carl’s voice as he stood next to you. You looked up at him, “holy shit, y/n?” Carl looked you over. You got a good look at him. He’s a couple inches taller than you and definitely grew up. Carl is handsome and you definitely weren’t prepared for that. You blinked a couple of times and smiled at him.

“Hey bid head. It’s good to see you” he rolled his eyes and pulled you into a hug. You placed your face next to his. He smelled nice and god could you feel how strong his body felt under his clothes. You pulled back from the hug or at least tried but Carl was holding on to you. You could feel Carl’s hand rub your back and start to move a little lower.

“Ok that’s enough” lip said as he went and broke the two of you apart. You turned away from Carl to calm yourself while Lip smirked at his little brother and patted his shoulder. Ian held up his left arm for you to walk into him. He held you by the shoulder as lip and Carl whispered to each other.

“Man, you Gallagher’s really don’t be lacking in the looks department, huh?” You said to Ian and he looked down at you as you eyed Carl. His younger brother doing the same from over Lip’s shoulder. You huffed a breath through your nose and turned to look at Mickey and Ian.

“What?”

“Nothing just-“

“Watching you be a prev for his brother.” Mickey finished. You scoffed at his remark and folded your arms over your chest.

“Fuck you, I’m just saying that the family has good genes. Where did I say that Carl is hot?” You whispered yelled at Mickey as you got close to him.

“You didn’t have to say anything. We can see you eye fucking him” Mickey whispered back as he laughed at you. Ian pulled you back as you were about to say something but stopped it.

“Stop it”

“Ian he started it”

“And I’m stopping it” you sucked your teeth and settled back into his side. Lip and Carl finished their conversation with lip patting his back with a big smile and walked over to the three of you.

“You staying the night, y/n?” Lip asked as he went to sit at the table with his cup.

“I could, I’m on vacation so I don’t have any where to be. If you guys don’t mind me being here”

“Mick and me don’t live here so you can take the room we slept.”

“Is it clean?”

“It’s clean don’t worry” Ian laughed as he rubbed your arm and let you go. He walked over to the table with lip and sat down.

“Sleepover at the Gallagher’s. Brings back memories the only difference is I don’t have to awkwardly pretend I don’t hear Ian jerking off in his bed.” You and Mickey laughed as the both of you looked at Ian.

Carl came up to your side a little closer than you thought he would. You turned to look at him and smiled.

“You gonna be sleeping with me tonight, Carl?” You said to him as you leaned on the counter with your head on your hand.

“I can think of some other things we can do besides sleep” he said as he looked at you with darkened eyes. You looked at his blue eyes and then to his full lips. You wetted your bottom lip and looked back his eyes and smiled.

“I’m gonna go make a phone call. If I’m gonna be sleeping here I need some of my things” you said as you broke your eye contact with him and talked to the other three people in the room. You smiled at them as you took your phone out and started to make your phone call.

Carl watched you walk out of the room and then out the house as he bit his lip and stood there for a minute. Mickey raised his brows at the younger man and then looked at the other two brothers. Lip shook his head as he got up and walked into the living room to be with his son.

“Carl the more you look the harder it is to make your eyes go back into your head.” Ian said as he got up from the table and put his mug in the sink. Carl rolled his eyes as he looked at the front door one more time before he began to talk.

“Y/n is…” he couldn’t finish his sentence as he went back to look at the front again. Ian shook his head as he walked into the living room. Mickey looked at Carl and finally had enough.

“Listen if you’re trying to fuck y/n make your move tonight. Me and your brother are gonna be out for a couple hours at like 8 and lip said he has to go back to his house to finish doing whatever” Mickey finished his coffee and got up. He stood in front of Carl and leaned back to look into the living room.

“Debbie isn’t gonna say anything cause she don’t care and Liam is having his own sleepover. So y/n is gonna be in that room by herself. Make your move” he said as he put his mug in the sink.

“Thanks Mickey” Carl said as he looked at the older man with a look of admiration. Mickey patted his shoulder and walked into the living room.

—

True to what Mickey said, him and Ian left the house at 8. Lip stuck around for another hour to finish catching up with you and left when he saw you get sleepy. Debbie hadn’t shown up yet but he wasn’t worried about that at the moment.

Right now he was debating if he should do it while you were in the shower or wait until you got dressed in the room. He chose the latter and waited at the top of the steps. Once he heard the water turn off and the door open he stood up. He watched as you walked to the room at the end.

The door was left a cracked as he quickly tiptoed to the room. He listened to see if you were gonna do anything but the door swung open and you grabbed him but the front of his shirt. Closing the door with a bang and locking it, you looked at him from the door. Your towel still wrapped around your body as you looked at him with sultry eyes.

Carl gulped as he stumbled back and fell on the bed. You walked towards him in a predatory manner. Your head held high and shoulders back as you swayed your hips. You stood right in front of him and slowly unwrapped the towel. You pushed him back until he was on his forearms and settled yourself on his lap. Still holding the towel loosely to you.

“Fuck” he breathlessly said as he watched your hand drop the towel. It landed on your spread legs and he followed it. His eyes slowly followed the curves of your torso. They landed on your breast and he reached out a hand to touch them. He rubbed his thumb over your right nipple. You moaned as you bit your lip.

“You’re so beautiful y/n” he groaned as he leaned forward and sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

“Fuck Carl” you moaned as you grabbed a fist of hair and pulled him away from you. He licked his lips and looked up at you. You leaned down and captured his lips with yours. The both of you moaned into the kiss as you grind down on the growing hard on in his shorts.

“I need you papi” you moaned as he bit your neck and flipped you on to your back on the bed. Carl looked down at you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He pulled over the undershirt and threw it behind him. He breathed hard as he watched your breast move with the breath you took. His eyes met yours again and went back for another round of kisses from you.

—

The next morning Debbie was making breakfast for her and Franny. Lip walked into the house with Freddie in his stroller. He announced himself to his sister as he placed his son in the playpen and walked into the kitchen.

“Hey Deb’s y/n still asleep?” He asked as he walked towards the bathroom but first gave Franny a kiss on the head. Debbie made a face as she looked at lip.

“Y/n? I haven’t seen her since you guys were in school. Is she back?” She placed a plate of pancakes in front of Franny as she went to make coffee.

“Yea, I bumped into her on my walk with Freddie and we offered her to sleepover. She should be sleeping in our old room.” He said as he finished washing his hands.

“Oh then I’ll wait until she comes down. It’s been a while since she’s been here” Debbie said as she had a happy look on her face. The two continued their conversation until they heard a scream from upstairs. Lip looked to Debbie and then to the staircase.

Lip was the first one to get out of his chair as he ran up the stairs. He was intercepted by Ian who was the first one at the door. Pulling it open they both rushed in.

In the middle of the room was frank on his back on the floor with Carl on top of him holding him down. You were on the bed with the covers held to your chest as you watched Carl.

“What the hell happened?” Lip shouted as he pulled carl off of frank. Carl stood back up in just his boxers as he looked at frank and began to tell his brothers and now, Debbie and Mickey, what happened.

“Y/n woke up and frank was standing over her, watching her!” He said as he went back to get frank but lip held him back.

“Hey, hey, hey it’s not my fault this Latin beauty is in my bed naked! Who can resist when someone like that is there! By the way son got yourself a good one” frank winked at Carl but Carl wasn’t appreciative of the compliment. Frank held his hands up as he got up from the floor and dusted himself off. Carl made his way to the bed and wrapped more of the blankets around you.

“Holy shit y/n and Carl fucked!?!?” Debbie said as she made her way into the room and looked at the two of you on the bed. You huffed and rubbed your face as you looked at all of them.

“It’s too early for this.”



[redstarwriting]

hobie brown with a pink gf

hobie brown x badass pink!fem!reader hcs

request?: yes

request: “HI RED!!!! idk if you’ve done this already but i really wanna see what hobie would be like with a badass pink!gf. like she wears pink demonias nd stuff but can like hold her own yk? i hope this makes sense LMAO”

requested by: anon

warnings:  language, mentions of stealing, alluding to s*xual harassment from men, cops

a/n: omggg the only person i could think of with this request is chrissy chlapecka wearing her all pink outfits and telling everyone to hit men with their cars LMAO thank you for the request, anon🖤

───────────────────────────────────

- givin me chrissy chlapecka vibes - he loves it - listen - if you have any type of distinct style or attitude going against what most people believe - or one that challenges any type of authority or societal beliefs - Hobie immediately respects you - doesn’t necessarily mean he will be best friends with you - but he respects people who he can see have that kind of rebellious “fuck the patriarchy” attitude - so when he saw you - all pink outfit - pink makeup - pink accessories - pink boots that look like they could kill a man - exactly what you intend with said boots btw - he respected it - especially since you seemed to be taking the stereotypical “girl color” (whatever the fuck that means) and putting a spin on it they wouldn’t like - and girl when he saw you kick some man’s ass - all pretty in pink? - he was like ooh yeah - oh she’s the one - he loves to steal anything and everything pink that he sees - all for you - and he does - this style you have is the definition of him saying “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.” - and in response - you just scoff - “I’ll wear whatever I want, I can fight.” - he loves it - he loves that you’re always ready to stomp someone’s face with your pretty little boots - the amount of time he’s actually had to hold you back is amazing - and he doesn’t hold you back because he thinks you won’t beat the person’s ass - or because he wants you to be the ”better person” or whatever the fuck that is - but because he doesn't want the piggies getting any ideas when it comes to you - he knows you can hold your own - but he can’t help but be a little protective of you - and he just doesn’t trust cops - they’d see you looking all pretty and try something - not on his watch - he’ll take over if there are cops around - but if it’s just a slimy man? - he’ll still be there, ready to step in and kill the guy at any time - but you can handle yourself - so he lets you handle yourself - he loves when you paint his nails for him - he has so many shades of pink nail polish now - and you’ll paint his nails all pink all the time - at first, he was kinda like hmmmmm am i gonna like this? - spoiler - he did - he still paints his nails black all the time but when you ask to put some pink in there he’s all for it - he doesn’t realize his flat is slowly becoming more and more pink as you start to move in - because he doesn’t necessarily care all that much - he really likes the color now - but when Gwen comments on it he’s like… oh yeah - “Hobie? Have you found a new love for the color pink?”   “What?”   “Your place. There’s so much pink in here.”   “Oh… (Y/n) and I are gettin’ serious. She’s been movin’ in. But yeah, I do fancy the color pink, now. What of it?” - he does have a favorite shade of pink that you wear - but he loves when you wear all pink - so he acts like he doesn’t have a favorite - but he’s bad at it - cause the minute you wear a bright obnoxious shade of pink? - he’s gone - he’s simpin - he’s in love - he will compliment you more than he already does - which is a lot - and have his hands all over you - needless to say you’ve incorporated that color into your wardrobe a lot more - he just loves your style - and your attitude - the two of you are the government’s worst enemy honestly - and even though you’re a badass - you don’t need a man or anyone for that matter - you have a soft spot for your anarchic asshole - and sometimes you just like to see him be the badass - cause he sure can be - you’re a “don’t fuck with us” couple - a “fuck around and find out” couple - and the two of you wouldn’t want it any other way <3

───────────────────────────────────

[midnight-vixn]

Kat, lovely to see you again!

I've been dying for it to get warm out so I can wear my short skirts and fishnets. Which got me thinking, which of the boys do you think would stare at your ass/cop a feel/pull you away to have some fun times since you've been teasing them all lunch. Maybe they'd even buy you more outfits to show you off to lesser demons?

Hiiii love! I’m so sorry I’m so late answering this but I’m in the same boat!! I’m all about short shorts and showing off legs/ass in warm weather!! I personally think all the boys would be drooling over you showing off your legs/ more skin but these are the ones who can’t keep their hands to themselves ;)

Spring Fever

Reader is described wearing skirt/booty shorts/fishnet tights/crop top, pronouns used: you/your

Mammon

He’ll act like it’s a problem at first, telling you you’re not allowed to leave the house like that unless he joins “Cause them lower demons are gonna be followin ya around” but in reality it’s so he can keep staring at your ass hanging out of your shorts. He’ll only grab your ass when you’re alone together, thinks no one is looking OR if a lower demon is looking too much but he’ll definitely pull you off to the side a few times so he can fuck you and tell you how good you look. He also may or may not buy you a new pair of fishnets just so he can rip a bigger hole in them to fuck.

Asmo

The minute he sees you he takes off running, only to return in an outfit very similar to yours. He’ll shower you in praise and insist the two of you go on a date around town and it’s absolutely so he can show you off! “They won’t know what to do with two beauties like us~<3” Asmo will 100% take any chance he can to kiss you or sneak a hand up your skirt and encourages you to do the same to him of course. He’ll buy you new skirts, shorts, crop tops or whatever you want so long as you give him a little fashion show that ends with you two fully naked and out of breath.

Lucifer

Will absolutely scold you in the beginning, suggesting you wear a jacket or something as extra coverage so you attract less attention but really it’s so you’ll stop distracting him, these papers are due today and how could he possibly focus when you’re wearing that? The way your fishnets hug your thighs reminds him of how beautiful you look tied up on his bed, he knows you wore that skirt just for him too, after all that’s the one he fucked you in last time it was warm outside. He curses his sin for forbidding him to take you right here in front of everyone, maybe that would teach you to not distract and tease him. Oh well, he’ll just wait until after dinner to tie you down and tease you instead.

Diavolo

Is obsessed the minute he sees you. He can’t pull his eyes away, he traces your curves in his mind and has to remind himself he’s in public to prevent from shredding those clothes off you. Your crop top gives him a perfect outline of your chest while also giving him a look at your stomach and the now very faint hickeys he left on you last week. He tries so hard to behave but can’t stop himself from grabbing at the soft flesh of your ass that hangs out of your shorts, you can hear a low growl from his chest each time he does and you know you’re in for it later.

Solomon

Loves when the weather warms up because he knows your wardrobe is about to become a lot more revealing. He has absolutely no shame and will smack your ass in front of others, you can scold him but he doesn’t listen, he’s too busy watching your ass jiggle. Short skirts are dangerous to wear around him, you could be busy looking at something in a store and suddenly there’s two fingers (or an entire hand) slipping into your underwear. Solomon won’t wait until you get home to get what he wants, he’ll pull you off somewhere, a bathroom, dressing room or even behind a building, just so he can fuck you in that outfit.

[bleach-your-panties]

💙🩵16. entertain + swimming pool with armin arlert💙🩵

💙black/poc!fem!reader. modern!au

🩵part of my 28th birthday event.

💙requested by @rheawolf, another long-time supporter of mine! thank you, love! 

🩵featuring @ ejthedon from @chrollohearttags rapper/influencer au. thanks again, love, for letting me use him! 

💙nsfw 18+. mdni!⚠️

💿: humble - kendrick lamar

💿: swimming pools - kendrick lamar

**all music and artists' likenesses belong to them!**

🤍2.6 k words

—-----

See, Armin is very good at hiding details when it comes to surprising you with gifts and dates. 

For your birthday this year, he went all out with getting the two of you front-row tickets to the three-day music festival that Drake and 21 Savage are headlining. Kendrick Lamar will be there on the last night, also, and you're so fucking pumped to see him live. 

As you sit in the beauty salon getting your hair, nails, toes, and eyebrows done (all courtesy of Armin, of course), you excitedly texted your best friend to tell her about your plans for the next couple of days. 

bestie boo🫦🤎:  girl, you're so lucky. i wish  my man was thoughtful like armin. 

you: mhm. he's really the best. 💗

Once you were finished, you texted Armin to pick you up. It didn't take him long to pull up in his ocean-blue BMW. 

"Baby!" You ran and hopped on him. He hugged you to him, pulling your legs around his waist to secure you.

"Hey, dove. Be careful, you don't want to mess up your beautiful nails, do you?"

(Just picture your Zodiac sign)

Sighing softly, you knew he was right. Still, you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling his Armani cologne.

"Just happy to see you, that's all…" 

He smiled and rubbed your back. 

"I know, baby. I'm happy to see you, too. Come on, I've got a surprise for you in the car." 

Armin carried you over to the passenger seat and opened the door. You gasped once you saw what was laid out on the seat.

"Armie!" You cried as he let you down back onto your feet. He just chuckled and watched you scoop the bills up neatly to put them inside your wallet.

"What am I supposed to do with all this?" You asked rhetorically, knowing that he wasn't going to take it back by any means.

He shrugged. "Buy yourself something nice and put the rest in your savings. I don't know, baby, do what you want with it. It's yours." 

Tears pooled in your eyes. Armin's so good to you. Sometimes you wondered what you'd done to deserve someone like him.

"Thank you so much, Armie. You always make my birthdays so special." Sniffling and wiping under your eye, you were careful not to mess up your lashes.

"Aww, you're welcome, dove. Anything for you, and you deserve so much more. Let's go, so you can start getting dressed for the concert." 

Nodding happily, you picked up your bouquet of roses and set them in your lap so you could sit down. 

—

The first two nights of the concert were amazing, but it felt like they passed by way too quickly. 

Drake and 21 Savage were phenomenal, as well as the other artists that were featured. Armin and you were turnt up all night long; drinking, dancing, just having yourselves a grand ole time. 

Now you're sitting in your hotel suite getting ready to go see Kendrick. Seeing him perform and then spending the rest of the night with Armin will be the perfect ending to your birthday weekend. 

"Baby, what do you think of my outfit?" 

You did a little spin in the mirror as Armin raised one blonde eyebrow.

"I love it baby, but-"

"I know, I know what you're going to say, but it has shorts underneath it, daddy~"

This caused a little smirk to cover his lips.

"Oh really? Come here and let me feel then.."

You just giggled and playfully swatted his hand away, but Armin grabbed your wrist and pulled you on top of him as he reclined back on the bed.

"You won't have to worry about any creeps trying to cop a feel or anything."

Armin rolled his eyes. 

"I won't have to worry about that anyway, baby. Nobody has any fucking business putting their hands underneath your skirt unless they want to get knocked the fuck out."

He moved his head up to kiss your lips passionately, moving his hand down like he planned in order to feel underneath your skirt.

"Nobody but me…" 

Your eyes closed involuntarily as Armin's fingers traced up your plush ass cheek, stopping to squeeze the soft flesh.

"Mmm, babe…if we don't hurry and leave we're going to be late…" You moaned softly when he began pecking your neck with quick, wet kisses.

Chuckling to himself, his cerulean eyes gazed up into your brown ones before scanning over the rest of your face. You know that look.

He's turned on.

"Armie~" 

He laughed harder at you for moving off of him and attempting to tug him up off the bed.

"Okay baby, I'm coming. I wouldn't make you miss your big night."

"Yay! I love you! Come on, the Uber is probably already downstairs!" 

"Alright, dove. Lead the way…shit." 

Armin was going to have a time walking with this hard-on, and you walking in front of him in that tiny ass skirt wasn't helping whatsoever.

—

(A/N: Bold italics is Kendrick rapping. Regular italics is Armin rapping.)

"How y'all doing tonight?" 

The crowd roared as Kendrick came out on stage.

"I SAID HOW THE FUCK ARE Y'ALL DOING TONIGHT?!" 

You screamed at the top of your lungs, Armin right along with you. 

"That's more like it! Come on, everybody stand up!"

His first song was DNA, which never failed to get you hype.

Followed by Complexion, m.A.A.d city; Bitch, Don't Kill My Vibe, Alright, LOVE, Loyalty, and Poetic Justice.

It all seemed to zoom by as you and Armin danced and sang along to every song.

"Alright, alright. I'm getting ready to close the night off, but let's turn it up one more motherfucking time!" 

Kendrick hollered and the crowd responded in kind.

"Nobody pray for me, it been that day for me, way, yeah yeah!"

You and Armin, much like the rest of the crowd were jumping up and down like maniacs as you belted out the song lyrics. 

Kendrick began moving around the stage as he rapped, coming close enough for you to brush your hand against his pants legs.

You pulled your hand back and stared at it as if it were made of gold.

"I'm never going to wash this hand again." 

Armin just snorted, thinking of how much more impressed you were about to be.

"Ayy, I remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances. Finesse a nigga with some counterfeits, but now I'm countin' this-

-Parmesan where my accountant lives; in fact, I'm downin' this, D'USSÉ with my boo bae tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts."

While Kendrick continued on, Armin turned you to face him. You looked up, as his six foot frame easily towered over you.

"Girl, I can buy yo' ass the world with my pay stub. Ooo, that pussy good, won't you sit it on my taste buds?"  

Warmth flooded your cheeks and made your neck itch as Armin rapped to you. He licked his lips and kept his eyes trained on your face. 

"MY LEFT STROKE JUST WENT VIRAL!" Rang out around you, but you were still trapped in Armin's azure gaze.

"Right stroke put lil baby in a spiral." 

He grabbed your hand and twirled you around, making you giggle.

"It's levels to it, you and I know. Bitch be humble, sit down. Be humble, sit down. Be humble, bitch, sit down. Be humble, sit down." 

"Who dat nigga thinkin' that he frontin' on Man Man? Get the fuck off my stage, I'm the Sandman. Get the fuck off my dick, that ain't right. I make a play fucking up your whole life." 

"I'm so fucking sick and tired of the Photoshop. Show me something natural like afro on Richard Pryor. Show me something natural like ass with some stretch marks." 

Armin was really feeling himself as he rapped to you with his natural poise and charisma. 

He was looking so handsome in only a simple, black U-neck tee, gold chain, and diamond studs glimmering in each ear. Light-wash ripped jeans adorned his long, lean legs, ending in a simple black pair of low Air Forces.

You were starting to forget all about Kendrick with Armin looking at you the way he was and snaking that sneaky hand back around your waist to rest just above your ass.

When the song ended, Armin kissed your temple and turned you back to face the stage just as Kendrick began to speak.

"So, I've been told that we have a birthday in the house tonight. A Miss Y/n L/n?"  

Your pupils immediately grew two sizes and you tried to turn to look at Armin, but he kept you still and faced forward by gripping your biceps. 

"Speak up, baby. So everyone can hear you.." Armin whispered into your ear as Kendrick knelt on one knee to extend the microphone out to you. 

"T-that's me…I'm Y-Y/n…" You spoke timidly into the microphone. That made Kendrick smile. 

"I'm glad you came out to see me tonight, Miss Y/n. I think my good friend will also be glad that you came." 

His good friend? What was going on here? 

Nothing else needed to be explained as EJ walked out with a microphone. He dapped Kendrick up while you just started screaming like a maniac. 

Both of the men on the stage laughed as they watched you turn and throw your arms around Armin's neck and kiss all over his face. 

"Why didn't you tell me that we were seeing EJ, too?!" He laughed when you began playfully hitting his chest. 

"If I told you, it wouldn't have been a surprise!" 

Armin helped you up onto the stage when EJ motioned for you. 

"Alright, let's continue this birthday party then! Do you have anything that you want to say, baby girl?" He held the microphone out to you. 

"I…I just love you…" 

EJ chuckled. 

"I love you too, sweetheart. Happy birthday and thank you for being a devoted fan. Let's go!" 

EJ kept you on stage with him the entire time as he performed all of your favorite songs. Armin even came up and the three of you danced, rapped, and sang together. 

After the concert, you and Armin went backstage with EJ and had drinks with him, Kendrick, and the other artists that had been a part of the festival. 

After the meet-and-greet, you were sent home with a gift basket full of autographed memorabilia. 

—-

"I had such a great time tonight, Armie."

You sighed in content as you sank down into the warm, bubbly water of the indoor hot tub.

Armin reclined next to you, wet hair stuck to his forehead in dripping strands. He looked so damn good like this, and after all he'd done for you tonight, your folds were slick with your desire for him.

"Yeah, baby? I'm glad you did, sweet girl." 

He grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, sitting you right on top of his hard dick.

You wrapped your arms around his neck just as he sat up to press his lips against yours. 

Armin gently held your neck while his tongue rubbed against yours. He sucked on your bottom lip, top lip, and each corner of your mouth.

"Mmm…babe.." 

"Mhmm…shit, girl." He grabbed a handful of your ass and smacked it hard. Your fingers moved to his neck to play with his chain while your wet breasts squished against his hard chest.

—

i think that I’m feeling the vibe

i see the love in her eyes 

i see the feeling the freedom is granted 

as soon as the damage of vodka arrived

this how you capitalize, this is parental-advised

and apparently, i'm over-influenced

by what you are doin'

i thought i was doin' the most 

til someone said to me

—

"Baby?" You asked innocently, still twirling his chain in your fingers while you stared into his deep ocean-blue eyes.

"Yes, my love?" 

You moved your hand from his neck to trail it down his side and over his stomach. His dick twitched underneath you, making you grin. 

"Why aren't you inside of me yet?"

Armin's eyes widened for a brief second before they became slanted, a devilish grin splitting his soft, pink lips apart, showcasing perfect, white teeth.

His hand on your ass began moving your bikini bottoms to the side. You watched him suck on the opposite hand's thumb and move it down to your top, pushing the triangle-shaped fabric to the side so he could rub his spit over your nipple and make it harden in the cool air conditioning surrounding you.

"Take it, daddy. It's yours." 

Armin cussed under his breath, moving his eyes back and forth between your beautiful face and hard nipples.

"Shit, baby girl. Don't have to tell me twice." He smirked at your use of his words from earlier and sank you down on his cock with one push of his hand on your ass.

—-

nigga, why you babysittin' only,

two or three shots?

imma show you how 

to turn it up a notch

first you get a swimming pool 

full of liquor, then you dive in it

pool full of liquor, then you dive in it

—-

Armin bounced you sloppily on his dick, making the water slosh around every which way in the hot tub.

His movements were usually more precise, making sure that he angled his dick just right to hit your G-spot, but right now he was drunk as fuck and just trying to fuck into you hard and fast enough to make you both cum.

“Armie! I’m close!” You whined, holding onto his neck with your legs wrapped tightly around his thighs.

“Oh yeah, I am too, dove…s-shit. Hold onto me, tight.” 

You were about to ask why, but Armin stood to his full height and pulled your legs around his hips. 

“Armin! I’m going to fall!” You panicked/moaned as he bounced you on him harder and harder. If someone were to walk in right now, they’d get quite the eyeful.

“Hush, I wouldn’t let you fucking fall. Drunk or not.” He smushed his face into your neck and inhaled your sweet scent before biting down on your neck. With one last hard thrust, Armin came inside of you. 

It was so much that it began to leak out and down your thighs, but he moved to sit down on the steps leading out of the tub so it wouldn’t drip into the water.

“Forever the gentlemen…” You panted, pressing your cheek against his while you rode out your orgasm.

“Always for you, my love. Happy birthday.” He smiled and kissed your lips, holding you close to him.

—-

i wave a few bottles then I watch em’ all flock

all the girls wanna play baywatch

i got a swimming pool full of liquor

and they dive in it

pool full of liquor, imma dive in it

[truly-morgan]

Mob Psycho 100 x Willy Wonka Experience AU

featuring

Mob - Wonkidoodle

Ekubo - Willy McDuff

Serizawa - The Unknown

Reigen going into a shady business venture, trying to make some money out of the new movie everyone is talking about featuring the candy maker.

please also enjoy some bonus:

Mob: Shisho, why do I get a dress? Don't the… oompa loompa? Have male outfits?

Reigen: Well, Tome decided she couldn't help anymore and I couldn't find any male version in your size. You two are similarly sized! So it's perfect!

Mob: 😐💢

=============

Ekubo: what the fuck even is this script? We could have you disappear with powers, but it still makes no sense?!?

Serizawa: please don't make me disappear inside a vacuum

Eekubo: go back behind the mirror

=============

Ekubo: Shigeo, I think the idiot said only one jelly bean per child, we kind of really don't have many of them

Mob: Shisho will just need to buy more 😐

=============

The one who calls the cops on the whole event is Ritsu, who volunteered (aka took pity on nii-san and accepted to work at the sad candy table). He decided he had enough of seeing the three other espers working their ass off to make it as fun as possible despite how disappointed the children are or angry the parents are.

The second employee (volunteer! There's no pay for volunteer!) is Sho, who received live updates from Ritsu's POV and decided this was hilarious and he needed to be there.

I think Reigen would somehow manage to worm his way out of the mess he created for himself. It causes problems for his S&S office because people associate it with the failed event, but his face is never shown so he lies about it all.

He swears to never try something like this again though.

=============

Just thought about some more actually:

Mob's green hair is him being forced to use some green spray dye for them. He will definitely get in trouble with teachers because Reigen got the wrong kind of spray and this one doesn't wash off easily.

[thatgayb1tchwhosimps4her]

Seekest Thou The Road ~ Ep 1

(Part of this AU)

Not really sure how I was supposed to write this, but hopefully it makes sense :)

~~~

While Agatha's under Wanda's spell:

From Thalia's POV, Agatha's just running around doing her own thing, actively being a menace to society, and Thalia's just trying to keep a lid on it, while simultaneously essentially being her carer.

But, in Agatha's cop-fantasy, Thalia just pops up here and there, as multiple background characters (sat in a car near the crime scene, in the line at the library, etc).

My girl's just spending her weekend, wandering around following her crazy mom, who thinks she's a detective; keeping an eye on her, since that's basically what she's been doing the last 3 years.

Back in Agatha's version of it, when she goes up to Nicky's room, she sees that the door's ajar, then opens it, and spots Thalia asleep in his bed (more about that later on).

But in actuality (after Rio knocks on the door, and that whole thing happens/Agatha's chasing Teen on the roof), Thalia's just writing, at the desk in her room.

In the audience's POV, there's a shot of Thalia's back, with headphone's on "Shut Up And Drive" by Rihanna (0:28-0:36) playing in the background (like it's actually from her POV/what she's hearing), while doing writing (implied it's for a book), a cup of hot chocolate to her left, and a picture of her and Atlas to her right, then there's muffled sounds, and Agatha runs past her bedroom window.

The POV then shifts to outside the window, and Thalia's like "What the fuck??!", slides the headphones off her ears, and rests them around her neck, (the song's still playing, but like if you have the volume up too loud, and other people can kind of hear it/0:36-0:42), then she leans forward to get a better look, and knocks the cup over, and spills the drink over the page (that lowkey hurt to think about).

For comedic effect, the song carries on in the actual scene, while Agatha continues to chase Teen, (0:42-1:03) until he's hit by the car, and it's like a record scratch sound, over the top of tyres skidding (in the scene + the song).

We then don't see her 'til Agatha's like back to normal again, but it's implied that Thalia went out of the house to go look for Agatha, for a couple hours (while she's chasing Teen + then interrogating him in the living room), but she comes back, and finds her asleep on the couch in the living room.

---

After the whole "multiple outfit change" thing:

Thalia leaves Agatha alone for one second, after she wakes up, and goes to make pancakes for both of them, and she's just blatantly gone out of the house; naked.

Thalia's obviously mortified, swiftly pulling the blanket off the back of the couch, before rushing out after her, and wrapping it around her shoulders, briefly catching like the last half of what she's rambling on about to Herb, but not really listening.

Gets Agatha back inside, which is when Thalia actually realises that she's of sound-and-mind again, she goes back into the kitchen to turn the stove off, and dishes up breakfast, Agatha following behind her after a brief cuddle with Señor Scratchy, now wearing her robe.

They then both sit down, and talk for a little bit, while eating chocolate-chip pancakes, about what Agatha remembers, until they're interrupted by banging on the closet door.

Thalia's got her scolding face on (identical to Agatha's), all like "What the hell did you do now?". A brief look of recognition crossing her face (kind of like the spidey-sense thing in ITSV/ATSV), after she opens the door.

Can't dwell on it too long, though, cause mamí's home.

Thalia instinctually steps in front of Teen/Billy, while they're both fighting, and helplessly like shouts at Rio, trying to distract her from killing Agatha, since she's literally just come to.

~~~

But yeah, that's basically it. This was kind of fun honestly, so I'm gonna go do the next one(s) 🙂

-Harlow

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Things I Noticed While Writing Light The Fuse: Part 10, Episode 4

It's Cop Night tonight!

I don't say this nearly enough, but I really love Ethan lol this is one of the funniest things he's ever said, no more fear of the Ghouls with this guy

Not Matty of all people coming in with the 'okay enough of that please don't start things'

He is thinking :] he just stares for so long trying to think of anything to say that wouldn't also start something and I love him for that

I was just gunna add this cause cute Matty and hot Johnson but as I was rendering this I saw Ethan's face for the first time fuckin lmao I have seen this scene SO many times and never once have I looked at Ethan

I really love soft, apologetic Matty, need more of this guy

I love how you can actually see the switch between Well Mannered Matty and his usual self when being polite doesn't work lmao no one else could've played him for REAL /)w(\ also the smug laugh he does afterwards will be the death of me

In case it wasn't obvious already I have a thing with being intimidated and this is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life no one else could've played him

This exchange makes me insane. Matty is so hot here I can hardly stand it. This would've been such a good fucking fight, Matty just staring him down not scared at all, the implication of everyone else he isn't afraid of coming after him and he doesn't even care, his hand is shaking he's so strong and brave and I would fight Gary for him even though he could kick my 5'5 ass

Fucking. Same. Ethan.

I just really wanted to say this outfit fuckin eats, he makes me wanna buy him a very expensive beverage and sit with him while he drinks slow and talks about his day /)//w//(\ okay I'm normal again sorry about that back to the post

Hi Angel~ Been watching a few of Rhys' movies for editing and he does this little wave in like all of them and this is just him continuing the trend lol so cute, I might make a lil gifset about it at some point 🥰

Johnson standing there like 'Matty. Pinup. Matty.' like what is that look I'm going insane, he's surrounded by beautiful dancing ladies and he's always looking at Matty or Ethan

Like. Fucking same, Johnson. I am also looking at Johnson like that as well just so you know

lmao at Ethan but I love the amount of detail they put into all these sets like this bathroom is seen only once and they decked it out so damn cool

Whoa I was just gunna screencap this bit and say I could never use a urinal cause guys are just... dicks out next to each other and that's so awkward oh my god so I'm always like looking at the wall during this whole scene cause I'm shy /)~(\ but Matty actually has another moment of misdirection when Ethan gets all still, doesn't change the subject this time, just hammers it home, but he does it in a way that still gets him away from Ethan it looks like so he knows he doesn't have to freak out over being recognized

Serious conversation, dicks just out, all three of them, pissin' away, can't be me. Also love how Johnson isn't allowed in the scene cause there's only three urinals lmao he's saving their table for them it's all good

He's also watching Ethan and seeing how calm he is this time ;w;

Gross. Disgusting. Don't bring your open drinks into the bathroom you heathen Matty did too but at least he like leaves it there cause I saw it in his hand when he walked in and placed it on the top and then he never picked it back up, he's just littering

I think him looking at me like that might fix me 😌 also cop didn't wash his hands yucko everybody shame him aaaaaaaaand I just now realized I giffed Ethan fuckin shakin' it and Matty's just staring at him with that expression as he's doing it I'm going to jump off a CLIFF MEN'S BATHROOMS ARE SO AWKWARD

'Why?' Cutting Matty out of this part in the fic nearly killed me cause I couldn't do this exchange but I'm so happy with him realizing it himself ;w;

Him saying this to me would definitely fix me. Love how he gets one second to be so genuine, his voice is so soft, and then he just laughs cause Ethan has the best reactions and he's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen after Johnson

Nearly hit my limit again surprisingly so yayyy I get to talk about my favourite scene with Ethan and Meredith tomorrow, gimme all the friendships with her to talk about! 💙💛

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #12

This week we're taking a slight detour from the main chapters of PKNA to read the very first PKNA Special Issue: Missing! (Which came out in 1997 alongside the release of Silicon). This chapter is basically the equivalent of an anime OVA where we get to see the various characters just kinda hangin out and doin stuff outside the main plot, which I think is fun!!

Oh boy haha can't wait to see which of the colorful cast of characters we'll be focusing on fi-

OH NO

No cause like she fuckin got his ass here. I think if PKNA took place in 2024 then Angus Fangus would have a verified account on twitter and every time he posts about PK there would be people in his replies like "oh rent must be due" just roasting the shit out of him. And they would be right too.

Bro AI generated a photo of PK stealing ice cream from a child 😭

Woah dude that's crazy. Could you imagine like, an evil toy manufacturer? Like some sort of toy-based villain. Maybe one that hates video games and dresses like a clo-

DID HE JUST KILL HIMSE

oh nvm there was a balcony. dammit

THEY WHITEWASHED ZIGGY?!??!?!?! NOOOOOOOOOOOO

See I TOLD you it was the anime OVA, they're at the beach and everything! Just look at that FANSERVICE!

I'm talking about Camera 9 in his little beach outfit btw. What did you think I meant? Lyla? What does this have to do with Lyla

So PK is missing and her first instinct is to go and check the jail 💀 I mean I can't say that he WOULDN'T get arrested by the time police I just think it's really funny

Screaming wait I love overly-confident Lyla

he's died

So Camera 9 won't talk to her and she PULLS A FUCKING GUN ON HIM. Cop moment.

...wait wasn't Camera 9 wearing shorts earlier? Where did his shorts go???

UNOOOOOOO HI UNO

"biological associate" is a really fancy way of saying your boyfrie

No cause like I'm obsessed with the resolution to this story. Dude kept his grudge for 250 years, get fucking owned Raider.

Bro shows up for two whole panels just so he can manspread and make a cheeky time reference. I'm exploding him with my mind.

AAAAAH EW OLD MAN JUMPSCARE shoutout to the picture of HDL though

WOW how lucky for Xadhoom to have found an entire thriving colony of her people!!! So happy for her :)

Also PK is there too for some reason

SHE'S SO HAPPY IT'S MAKING ME DEPRESSED

Yeahhhh they really didn't think this one through did they

WAIT THE NEPHEWS ARE HERE?? WHEN DID THEY GET BACK FROM AFRICA

WH- YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE IN THIS COMIC YET??

You gotta love them dedicating a story to two random Evronian goons and then having it end with both of them just being murdered by Xadhoom. Like they never EXPLICITLY say that Xadhoom is killing the Evronians when she fights them but we all know that's what she's doing right.

Gotta love Donald vanishing off the face of the Earth so he could fuck off to Tibet with Everett Ducklair 💀 Levitating would be a useful skill to have if he didn't like immediately forget how to do it after this oops

Anyways that's all for today. I really like the PKNA special issues they're all really fun and silly and nothing bad happens in them ever!! So look forward to reading the next one in uuuh idk like 10 more issues or something?

[stay-midnight]

hello hellooo !

. . . 🎙

the endpoint was reached yes yes so it was mostly just additional thoughts? especially for the divine amusement one-things i could also see happening hehe (like e.x, certain other things that could happen that wasn't in the other asks like other ways they could humiliate chan and readee y'know-)

anyways-if police officer in training jeongin were to witness?!?!?!?!? its either making the reader suck him off so he won't tell or giving seungmin his handcuffs and baton for him to use on reader 🤐

oml yes that pic of jisung 😭 and changbin's outfit there too like-pquwbskqiwjws.....anyways-perv jisung really has a hold on me, i could spend hours talking about it 😩

high sex with perv jisung?! eating some of felix's sus cookies aa you get railed by him in the frathouse (fratboy skz's but them all having specialties tho-) and the other fratboys getting back there to the sight of reader getting clapped by jisung like a lion in heat 🤧 main headcanon for perv jisung is really just constant horniness so you're also constantly pinned/bent over and fucked anywhere anytime, as well as him doing and saying very inappropriate things to you in public😈 also perv jisung also being a fratboy though-

but enough of perv jisung for a hot second and now some thoughts about fratboy felix! (i am getting on the fratboy skz wagon then-all of them be pervs tho-)

Fratboy Felix who is in fact genuinely sweeter and nicee out of all of them-and yet he can be the most brutal....his ways of being perverted are kind of rougher....ehem-like wedgies-AHEM-idk okay but i think he'd really like doing that-the pained expression you make but he knows that you feel aroused by it too 😶 (perv minho also likes doing that....) headlocks as well too, (changbin would do that-) and pinning you down and just being manhandling you in general?!?!? (jeongin would be like that too-)

heck, the ideas really inforce the fact that its felix secretly leading the frathouse 😭 and since breeding is his specialty-i really feel like he'd make the reader wear a jockstrap??? in Felix's words-"easy access to my cumdump, plus it makes the view nicer." he'd say smugly to fellow fratboy jeongin- who's staring at your fucked out look as felix slaps your butt-a whimper coming out.

Felix wouldn't be as constantly horny as the likes of jisung, minho or jeongin-cause when he fucks-he destroys. always making sure to leave you sore and unable to walk and think right after a long and intense session, so while getting fucked by him isn't constant, getting manhandled is 😭 (plus he always makes sure to fuck his cum back in you so hard-enough so that he usually cums 1 or 2 more times before plugging you up 🤐)

And one of the most perverted things he likes doing-whenever he makes you coffee or bakes you treats-he cums in them. Like straight up jerking off and cumming in the cup of coffee he's about to give you, or cumming and filling in a cupcake 😭 he'd bake nude too if you're roommates with him, wearing nothing but an apron and sometimes, you're the one getting filled instead of whatever he's baking 😶

insanely cocky and smug too, always mouthing off on how good he is and how good you are for him. When it comes to sharing you though, he'd be chill about it, unless someone gets the fucking audacity to flirt and try to steal you away from him-depending on his mood its either throwing hands or some smug and cocky comeback as he walks away with you with his arms around your neck-

hehe, college au skz is soo 😵😭 perv fratboy skz's- more thoughts to be shared so that's it for noww ! 😳💕

good evening anonnie! 🫣

~

yepp! i saw them and i still wondered how you thought of them cuz like my mind was blanking the whole time huhu- yeye the da thoughts were wild-

ORRR evil cop jeongin decides to cuff seungmin to a bed while he makes seungmin watch with his throbbing cock and angry expression as he fucks you against the wall ?!?! 🫢 like even in this universe seungin rivalry wont end but in this verse Jeongin has the upperhand-

Changbin in that shirt will always get me ALSO CHANGBINS DANCE W/ NMIXX? THOSE HIPS DONT LIE- but yeah perv jisung has it out for all of us-

Will always welcome perv jisung a scenario that I would like really like for him is like while you study or do an important paper, he jerks you off or even slide his hand down to your ass and fingers you even though you are doing something quite important 🫢- lion in heat sung-

Felix beinga secret leader is just 🤧🫢 but yeah he would forreal like you in a jockstrap, spreading you wide open in the hallway as he fucks you there shamelessly- but his shenanigans doesnt end there, he wouldve fucked you on the bed of other frat members at some point cuz he also loves pissing off the other frat members— Felix also has the best faux sympathy and innocence, one minute you could be cooing over him and the next drooling over his fingers as he slams inside you relentlessly- its hours of being plugged up with his cum as well like he definitely likes it when he plugs you as a sign of ownership- Also Felix likes to make out with you in the open like on the couch while probably some other frat member is sitting and just tired trying to watch their show-

Felix cum sweetener(?) jk HAHAHAH BUT FR FELIX WOULD PROBABLY FILL YOU UP INSTEAD OF THOSE SET ASIDE CREAM DONUTS-

[iamnot-theboynextdoor]

OFMD EP1 REACTION

i already know this is a dream sequence but opening on stede and izzy having a badass swordfight is dope

stede's fantasy is all about him looking and sounding super masc... babyboy that's not you...

HE FUCKING STABBED IZZY. HE KILLED HIM

and of course izzy's last words are "you absolute twaaaaaaaaaat" i'm fucking dying

AND THERE'S THE SLOMO BAYWATCH RUN GOD I LOVE IT

"knew you'd find me babe" and of course ed's got his beautiful beard back and he looks perfect and he loves stede's beard sfjgdskjgdshj stede

aaaaaaand f in the chat for stede's dream sequence, wee john is doing chemical warfare

"can't be worse than you moaning 'ed, oh, ed' all night long" f in the chat for black pete and the rest of the crew

AHAHAHA roach going "he's single" and shoving the swede at jackie. c'mon swede be a hobosexual for us we gotta sleep somewhere

"come closer. spanish jackie don't bite. i lied, i bite" and he giggles i am immediately on board congrats jackie on your 21st husband

love olu's fancy bartender waistcoat!

"i'll buy you a drink" this guy! the guy who's practically stede's twin! in the disco outfit that stede steals! is he the guy stede does a punch on? is he hitting on stede? oh my GOD where is this going

"richard banes. are you stede bonnet?" dear lord this guy could not have a posher accent. is he the guy who ends up with a fake nose. he's an undercover cop isn't he. how else does he know who stede is

awww fuck we're cutting to ed. shit's about to go down

(stede) "hope you're thinking of me as well" close-up on ed's TRUST NO-ONE tattoo. fuuuuuuuuck

and immediately the wedding ed's gonna crash is like some extremely classist/"we must breed more upper class, worthy humans" shit, so ed can do a little murder actually i immediately don't feel bad for them

"objection" ed can board a ship without anyone fucking noticing if it looks cool actually

THERE HE IS he's made everyone put on the emo paint. i keep pausing and rewatching this part. love izzy's sarcastic little smile

jim looks so fucking sexy

so does frenchie tbh

ed's just eating the cake. cake topper my beloved...

OH NO IVAN DIED. OFF-SCREEN. F IN THE CHAT. and frenchie only cares about the cake JUST KIDDING HE IS HARDCORE DISSOCIATING. poor fang tho...

stede taking down blackbeard's wanted poster... does he have a little shrine in the pig sty he's sleeping in. does he draw hearts on the posters

"he's just blowing off some steam" stede has decided the atrocities are cool and fun actually. atrocities are okay if the man doing them has big beautiful brown eyes too. what about it

"i also killed someone and stole their kiosk. sometimes action is better than vision" can we get sue on the crew? "that's what i've been telling him" "that's 'cause you're the smart one" sue confirms that olu is the only crewmember with a brain cell

'we can't turn up with any old ship, we need to look good" STEDE. FOR THE LOVE OF FUCKING GOD.

ed putting the little cake topper in his breast pocket next to his heart i'm going feral

"did everyone get cake?" "yeah they got cake"

ed is doing drugs and izzy has never looked more miserable and soggy. he looks like someone dunked him in an inkwell

OH HERE'S THE SCENE. THE SAD WET MEOW MEOW SCENE

shit's gotta be really bad if izzy needs to be rocked and cuddled while he cries... babyboy you should have just let ed hold the talent show...

i am not at all surprised that jackie's taking all of stede and co.'s savings. this is jackie's house. jackie does not have a tip jar. you're in the republic of pirates hide it better next time

BOO CAKES!

well you didn't even get jackie and the swede a wedding present. this is her wedding present. HIDE THE JAR BETTER-

"what if we took that back?" "i think my husbands would have a problem with that. have you met all twenty of 'em?" PAUSING TO LOOK AT THE HUSBANDS.

"that's a lot of husbands" black pete misses his husband, tails. he misses him a lot

love the one wearing no shirt and a tight waistcoat/corset thing with the axe. one's got cool glasses. two of them are either super twinky or lady-husbands, excellent either way (jackie and her lady-husbands, nandor and his guy-wives... beautiful...)

EDIT: THE TWO HUSBANDS ARE TRANS GUYS HELL YEAH HELL YEAH

"i know that guy we had breakfast together" "you will be having a lot of breakfasts-es together" "oh ok" sometimes a family is a pirate businesswoman and her 20 19 18 20 husbands and we stan

maybe the sexy axe husband cooked the breakfast. i am delighting in imagining them being all cute and domestic until jackie needs them to stand around and look intimidating and then they all scramble into position. their job is to cook breakfast and look sexy and scare the shit out of anyone jackie points them at

i like to imagine that as soon as one of jackie's husbands died she's like fuck i gotta get a new one to make up the numbers. my brand is 20 husbands i can't be seen with only 19. who's new in town that is remotely attractive. ooh, swedish blondie with a metal tooth, he'll look nice next to the one in glasses

anyway stede and co. are now homeless rip

why does roach have buttons on a rope leash sfhdskjghsgk is buttons so desperate to return to his true love (the sea) that they have to treat him like a toddler trying to run into traffic

"dear ed, i think i'm afraid to see you. i'm not afraid you're gonna kill me, i'm afraid your life is better without me!" I AM GOING TO LOSE IT. SOMEONE GET THIS POOR BOY SOME SELF-ESTEEM

i paused on the wanted poster and it said "wanted for theft brigandry larceny arson tax evasion" sgkjhsfgkjsfhgk the fucking IRS is going to find ed before stede does

"could be. could be, mate" stede your ed impression sucks shit

oh god richard's there. are you a cop or just a fan.

"the gentleman pirate saved my life! quite frankly, you're my hero!" with his fancy fucking coat oh god stede has a fan. stede has a copycat fan. AND STEDE'S NOW HAPPY OH MY GOD I AM HITTING HIM WITH A HAMMER (affectionate)

he fed stede a line about jackie's roman puzzle chest... i don't fucking trust this guy i'm convinced he's either a navy plant or a husband plant...

(if he is truly just a baby stede i'm putting him in a jar and shaking him (affectionate))

I FUCKING LOVE THE SWEDE

oh god back to ed's depression den

"not good enough. and that's another toe. take your boot off." okay ed, i know you're trying to get izzy or anybody to kill you in your sleep or something but i'm still. noooo don't commit atrocities you're soo sexy aha

"who am i to you" oh god. shit's gotta be really really fucking bad if izzy's doing emotional intimacy

"i have... love for you, edward" i'm going to explode

first of all izzy is delusional if he thinks he knows ed better than anyone else - we know and love this about him

second, con's fucking acting is going to kill me. he's looking at the floor, there are tears in his eyes, he's whispering and pauses as if saying the word love is going to kill him (and it's not just the emotional repression considering how volatile ed is)

and the way the line is written - it's not "i love you" or "i'm in love with you", it's not a thing izzy does or is, it's a thing he has. an object he's carrying around, separate to him, he's trying to distance himself from it.

and of course ed interrupts him with "oh come on" because he does not trust that anyone actually loves him and he doesn't want anyone to any more, he wants izzy to hate him and kill him!

"i'm worried about you, we all are. the atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned. but if we could all just maybe... talk it through" SHIT'S GOT TO BE REALLY REALLY UNQUESTIONABLY HORRIFICALLY FUCKING BAD IF IZZY IS ADOPTING STEDE'S CATCHPHRASE

ed, ominously "as a crew" as blackbeard's leitmotif starts up... WORST CHOICE OF WORDS EVER IZZY I'M TERRIFIED

izzy: i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up i fucked up

POOR FANG IS WHIMPERING ED DON'T SCARE HIM!!!!!

"i know who we should ask, ol' blackbeard!" (shoves gun under his own chin) jesus christ ed

"FUCKING END!" izzy has had ENOUGH

AND AS SOON AS HE SAYS STEDE'S NAME ED SHOOTS HIM

"frenchie, you are now first mate" STEPS OVER IZZY GROANING IN PAIN

i am very worried

HARD CUT TO THE SWEDE AND JACKIE LMAO

oh god stede's adopted ricky. this can only end terribly

aaaaaand f in the chat for ricky's nose

"i can't believe you guys robbed jackie! so bad!" swede.

jackie looks gorgeous though

SUE IS OF COURSE THE BADASS PIRATE QUEEN

and jackie loves her a sexy swedish double-crosser

thank you sue for adopting the gang of idiots

OH GOD JIM AND ARCHIE MOPPING UP IZZY'S BLOOD. THAT'S A LOT OF BLOOD

poor fang is still crying

awwww and jim's telling him pinocchio to calm him down! (but they suck at telling stories)

"do the voice"

and jim does the fucking voice

ed sounds like he's holding back tears as he describes sailing and robbing and never landing

"fuck you, stede bonnet" "good night, ed teach" HHHHHHH

stede come on man pick up a fucking oar you're not the captain any more

at least we got one romantic reunion! and it was buttons and the ocean <3

sdkfjhsdkjgsdk everyone being like "are we soup merchants now? sweet" and olu with his poor overworked brain cell like "hang on... there's no soup here"

ZHENG YI SAO FUCK YEAH BAY BEE

AFTER CREDITS SEQUENCE!!! storytime with jim extended edition!!!!!

[possessionisamyth]

Reasons to Love Ada Wong:

-Outstanding Intelligence: As seen in damnation, re4, and re6, Ada knows how to remain one step ahead. She knew the BSAA lie would fall through so she could get into the facility to access what she really needed. She immediately adjusted her plan in re4 to make her helping Leon out of tight fits appear as inconsequential tasks while she went towards her goal. She immediately figured out the "Simmons" calling her wasn't Simmons at all. She's not someone you can outsmart easily.

-Excellent Self-Preservation: Gotta look out for #1 baby, and Ada is the best embodiment of that. RE is packed with enough martyrs who will give up their entire lives "fighting for the cause". This girl is there to get her paycheck and get the fuck out so she can live her life, and I respect it. I hope she charges triple for overtime and extra hassle. We should all be doing that.

-Plays The System Like A Fiddle: Ada says fuck cops. Ada says fuck the government. Ada says fuck corporations. As long as what they're doing won't pull her into a long standing cross fire, she will work for the money they offer, but she'll go where she pleases once she's done. Is that really any different than people in real life looking for a better job when leaving an old, shitty one? I don't think it is.

-Has only one weakness: Ada knows her limits. She knows when she can save someone and when she can't. She knows when to let something lie and when to go for it. Leon is her only weakness, but everyone else she can take or leave unless they prove they'll have value for her work. If Leon died, she'd retire or go back to being ultra capable, so kill him Capcom.

-Impeccable fashion: Ignoring the dragon lady take with og re4 dress, Ada's other outfits are fire. Red is a wonderful color on her because it hides the blood, and also she's so hot.

-Emotionally Unavailable: She is the only RE woman who is not seen sincerely comforting a man or comforting a child(re2/re2r doesn't count because she's acting). This is extremely refreshing. Yes, she is the sexy femme fatale, but does she comfort Leon? No. Does she baby Sherry when she saves her? No. This isn't a moral failing. She's just not that into you, and it's not a flaw. It's an underutilized character trait with women especially.

-Hookshot User: I don't know about the people younger than me, but this was the coolest tool for people to use in cartoons when I was a kid. It's the closest a normal human can get to being Spiderman, and that automatically puts a character on the Best Design list in my opinion.

-High-risk High-reward Thinker: Working with B.O.Ws in any capacity means you're somewhat of a gambler. What does Chris get from going into enemy territory to arrest some guy? Paperwork. What does Jill get from saving Chris' life? Brainwashed into a killing machine and made blonde(the worst fate bestowed upon women). Leon fights for his country. Ew. Gross. You know what Ada gets going into death ridden zones? Her bag. Her check. Her money, and it's actually worth it.

-Espionage S-Rank: The international arrest warrant is going to make things a little more difficult, but Ada's made her career around going under the radar to get in and out of high security areas. She gets the gear, the guns, and plays her role with finesse. Her intel gathering skills must be impeccable to achieve this.

Quick Bullet Points:

Not a eugenicist. (Wesker is.)

Doesn't experiment on corpses. (Heisenberg does this.)

No god-complex. (Wesker has this.)

Against child labor? (Heisenberg wants a baby gun.)

Doesn't make viruses that kill people. Only gets paid to move them around. (Unlike some people.)

Thinks Leon is pathetic, but likes him anyway even if he's a lil ugly. Which is so nice of her. (❤️)

So there's my comprehensive list I said I'd make weeks ago but am just now getting to. If anyone has anything else to add feel free to do so in the replies. If you're here to be an Ada hater, you'll get blocked.

[solardashpraxus]

🎁, 💛, and 🔫 for the person ask game :D

PROXY HIIII MY BEST FRIEND PROXY THANK UOU I LOVE YOU SO MUCHHHHHHHHHH <3 <3 <3 kisses u thank you for doing this. cue “oh good i get to explain this to you. you will regret it” image :3 hold on to your hat it’s gonna be a wild ride

🔫 favorite S.E.E.S member?

oooh this one is hard! i’m not that far into persona 3 (reload) so i haven’t met them all yet but i’ve got a pretty good idea of what they’re all like.

ok i think i have to give 2 cop-out answers first: the protagonist (like yeah he’s literally there for the audience to project on but. ohohoho) and koromaru (has not actually joined the team yet but. he’s ouppy dog. the goodest of boys!)

OK now for real answer time: i’d have to say junpei? again im not super far into the game but despite his personality being… kinda annoying and sexist, he’s also just such a cheery and fun guy that i can’t help but be endeared to him! and i hear he goes through some big character growth later on. apparently he’s kinda like sokka? a big part of it is his voice actor too, zeno robinson did fucking amazing. also i haven’t gotten that far yet but i think im gonna really like ken when he shows up 👍

🎁 favorite character?

GRRRRRGH ok so. i could go on another huge spiel about which characters could claim this spot and why but. man there’s no contest. TATSUYA SUOU LETS GOOOOO YEAHHH TATSUYA FUCK YEAH TATSUYAAAAA!!!!!! WIN FOR MOTORCYCLE BISEXUALS VROOM VROOOOOOOM!!!!! (and also the suffering ^_^)

💛 favorite dynamic(s)?

hhhhhrhgk asking some hard questions here. this will be very long you have been warned. okkkk. ok so. starting off simple with joker and ryuji they’re just. so silly man. they’re just buds having a good time! and they’re just goofing off and hanging out but they care so much about each other and it just creates this sense of. light and warmth and joy and respite from the world around them. i think that “you make me feel free” goes both ways. and that’s not even talking about what happens with them in canon!!! god i love ryuji so much.

anyway for the next one we have to take a trip into my beautiful mind (aka I Am Just Making Shit Up)… ok imagine with me: joker is aromantic asexual but doesn’t know there’s terms/community for it yet. also he’s probably not cis but he doesn’t have time to think about that right now there’s ruin coming or whatever. and ann is a recently realized lesbian who’s coming to terms with how her experiences with sexual harassment + objectification affects her sexuality (and she’s in love with shiho!!!) and they’re each others first person to come out to and they bond so hard over being queer in ways that especially defy japanese social and gender norms (being a lesbian in a society where young women are sexualized + objectified while also placing huge importance on traditional values, marriage by a certain age, having children + starting a family 🤝 being aroace in a society where men are expected to sexualize women, be dominant + increasingly to gain a sense of power/masculinity in their sexual prowess [Belarmino, Melanie and Roberts, Melinda R. (2019). Japanese Gender Role Expectations and Attitudes: A Qualitative Analysis of Gender Inequality. Journal of International Women' s Studies, 20(7), 272-288.] sorry bout the citation i wanted to get my facts right) (also like, atlus come on. queer issues perfectly fit into the themes of persona 5 you’re just a fucking coward + homophobe) sorry abt the tangent ANYWAY they get just so much closer after that, as well as a lot more comfortable with casual platonic intimacy + physical affection cause they both know they can be safe + not have their actions misconstrued by the other. tbh i could see them being in a qpr? there like. gay best friends in a way that doesn’t put emphasis on stereotypes cause they just hang out and genuinely have so much fun eating crepes and trying on outfits and talking shit abt ann’s coworkers lol. they would have the best sleepovers.

ohhohoh and im not even done! ok so i haven’t gotten that far into persona 2 innocent sin cause i got softlocked 13 hours in somehow + now i have to restart BUT i know things, and hooooo boy tatsuya and jun lemme tell you. shuake fans eat your heart out cause tatsujun was doing it better back in 1999. like i haven’t read a lot of in depth analyses cause im trying not to get even more spoiled than i already have been but. the entire basis of innocent sin’s story starts with their relationship… and thinking about everything jun goes through and then what happened in eternal punishment… GOD they’ve got me so fucked up. head in hands. everyone play persona 2 please.

[cryptid-killjoy]

GoGo didn't pull any sensitive offenses. Jetsam checked that off in his mind. CHECK. He was right about her. CHECK. Then she offered a possible dress swap at some point. DOUBLE CHECK. Then her suggestion was to go on a joyride? TRIPLE DOG CHECK YA. Hello. Jetsam just earthly approved of Scout's friend that fast.

"I haven't been behind the wheel of a car since I smashed up old coin hips' car. Do you know how many years ago that was? Me either. I don't keep track. Fuck calendars."

Then he reared back and roared a gutteral metal scream while beating his chest. It seemed like it shouldn't be able to be done without a mic and some petals but there he was like he had a natural reverb box in his belly.

"Let's go bitches!" He sounded off like he was commanding a chaotic army of anarchy even though he was basically only addressing Scout and GoGo.

That loudness got two more people's attention though. Chip and Dale. Jetsam's actual biological sons. Fire lit behind both their eyes. It was the thrill seekers' flame ingited in the both of them. Dale was loudest when he hollered back. He didn't get to see glimpses of his father like Chip did. Chip had a secret world with him in the middle-worlds with Savvy, but not Dale.

"Regulators!" Dale called out, an ol' thing his dad used to do when they were young to gather everyone up.

So Scout called out, "Mount up!"

It was a Young Guns thing when they got on their horses, but they always said it when they'd scramble for their atv's and go out in the wilds of Laveau Estate back in the day. Today they were being joyriders and finding something out there to ride in the wilds of Feral. Chip heard about all the zombies. It made him start to feel like a little piece of home was in him. He turned and gave his wives a signal he was outtie and went running after his brother and sister... and god damn dad. The dad he killed, yeah, this was going to be a good fucking night.

Dale jumped on a table and threw his Barbie Doll box over his head and tried to ring it around Ellie's whole body like a last party game as the group went running out to cause havoc in the Feral streets.

Babyface would turn in his cop outfit ready to smack a bitch down for fucking with Ellie when he realized it was Dale.

"That fucker." His eyes tried to keep up with the crew weaving around dancers jamming out to the exit.

"We should go see what the Hell they're doing." He suggested before taking off looking more like a cop after someone with his billyclub out than a criminal for once in his life. Halloween wonders.

The young Laveau crowd with GoGo had gotten the drop on him though. He was lagging behind when he got outside. His excitement was banking on a thrill himself with all the hussle he was seeing, but what he didn't expect was for his feet to stop when he saw the beach at the bottom of the castle. He stopped running.

"Ells?" Something about fresh water had a way of taking him back to the island. It became that moment where Babyface Beagle didn't follow the crowd and instead stood in his unhealed feelings. He hadn't meant to be a party downer, but it caught him right in the chest.

"We're in Feral." The reality of where they were started to truly dawn on him for the first time. They'd come for a costume ball, but how often were they really allowed in this place? It had access to Pleasure Island.

"I have to go there. We have to go. I'm going before Delta tries to put us back on that bus out. I have to see it."

It. He didn't say the words, but it ached inside him. Maybe she wasn't the same, but it's all he could think of now. To him she had to know.

---

Valerie said it like Thomas was special and the reason why because he absolutely was. He confirmed. She was fucking with him tonight. "I'm a house. It's my god damn house." She grinned. Not a box. Never in the box again. "I'm with you." She needed all those words tonight. Moreso she needed the expression on her husband's face, the way he paid attention. That's why she was with him. Never ignored. Never brushed off. This was where she felt like she mattered. She mattered.

She felt the rush of her family racing off for different fun. They all became a blur behind the order of her eyes. That was okay. Thomas was still front and center.

"I would love to dance."

She held her hand out to be swept off to the dance floor. It looked like someone was going to have a traditional night at this ball after all.

--

Then there was Pierre. Zero and Seven did step aside. If Zero was a long time coming, Piper was a whole other level. Pierre altered her forever. Paramour yes, but it was more. They were supposed to be family. No one cut this thread.

There was a literal inferno beneath her skin that only existed in her eyes because of him. It burned through doors to open magics inside her she could dream of controlling. But, that was the thing about fire wasn't it? Fire was dangerous and hard to contain. It ignited other worlds within her. Sleeping worlds were now awake in her veins.

"Nope. I should have known better." There was a smile. "I'm glad. I always had a soft spot for your face." She took the hug in and used it to her advantage. She was anything but appropriate. Piper didn't skirt anything after that. She slipped a hand down his front, soothed right over his cock with one hand and kissed him clean on the lips in front of everyone. "I really, really missed you." She'd say ever so sensually. But, she didn't let go of his cock when it was over.

"Shhh. Don't move. Don't try a time loop. You're already in one. You don't want to cross magics like that. They think we're still kissing."

She held not a knife, but her curled hand to his throat, like Vader began to squeeze his throat without even touching him. "That's all they see. But, you listen to me. I don't care if you think you're here for all Hallow's thin veil. I've been pouring the purple sands for a long time waiting for your grain to drop. Wishing. Manifesting. Summoning you. I think I know a way for you to come back here, but you have to vow to leave the Bellerose's in peace. Can you do that? For me? For fucking once, do right by me?"

Contradictory much? A little confusing. Probably. But Piper wasn't fucking around. She never did anymore. She wanted him to know he was wanted here, but it didn't matter, she'd fuck him the fuck up in this world or the next if he fucked with her sister's head again if she gave him this chance and it actually worked. Hell, maybe he didn't want to come back? Maybe he'd disappoint her all over again.

----

When Maddy explained to him Pierre was definitely still dead and reminded him of Frollo Bastien's heart sank. He didn't care about Pierre anymore. It showed deep down to Bastien Pierre wasn't a real threat, more a pest.

"If Pierre and the Merry Men got in the castle then... Frollo." Bastien's hands actually started to tremble along with the side of his jaw when his mouth wasn't closed. This was a true Halloween fright to him and it was only a mere thought. "Let's stay close to Frankie tonight. It's a shields up night, Maddy." Bastien didn't even know if Frollo was really there, but he wasn't taking any chances, not with his little girl.

It was about then the Merry Men started to gather around one of their favorite castle couples.

It was Wulf who brought Agnes the piggie up to Maddy. "Someone misses you." To Bastien he'd say, "After all the times I've hooked you up I know you got something for me now."

Bastien would give him the, "Just let me get Frankie first and then I got you covered."

The whole crowd would start to distract them. Lance would ask people thought he could play music too. He wanted to hold a real guitar again in his real hands. All sorts of hub bub was going on.

-

River had needed that hug from Elsa. It went on so long it was like a Disney World character hug where the mascot refuses to let go until the patron did. River nearly didn't let go.

As much as River enjoyed Koda he was happy enough to sit with Elsa. It didn't even dawn on him to go running off with the others of his family yet because he'd been so attached to the house in New Zealand. He followed Flotsam/Valerie nearly everywhere they went watching out for entities that might try and slip into her necro-magnetic field.

He'd meant to spend a little more time with his siblings, but it seemed his other dad got to them first and had them on exit. "I uh... I already climbed that moutain once today. I'm not doing it again. I think I'll stay here." He said as he watched them all fleeing on some kind of excited high.

No. River would stay and dance with his parents. Elsa first. Then he might try to cut in on Thomas if they hadn't finished by then. He looked over at his mother-form Valerie and Thomas dancing. River hadn't gotten to see her in a big gown like that in real life dancing so happily before. Thomas always made her happy, but this was different. He could see she was living her fantasies in real life with him. Now if only Elsa would say yes to a dance with him.

"Ma. Er. I mean... Mother. We should dance. Will you dance with me?"

--

Back in the throne room. "School. Ew." Silas looked annoyed by the thought and blew it off. That was the thing though wasn't it? Silas had so much going on. Halloweentown High. He never wanted to do that. He did it to make his father happy. Oogie happy? He was following a lead that didn't exist for him. His real parent was gone. He was cut off from Oogie when he got trapped in Feral. He'd found out too much along the way. He knew who his biological mother was now. There were a lot of ways to feel, but he wasnt sure he felt any. What Silas did thrive in was his routines. When his way was thrown out of wack meltdowns would happen. He'd been in Feral a long time now and his new routines were in place. He still couldn't help but feel life was easier when he had a Jenner Chernabog to do things for him.

"You should give me my father back, and let us move in the castle, give us a room, each of us of course."

Delta's face couldn't have been further from contorted. Her hunch's whole body might have twisted into every line her face had. "Why would I do that?"

"I can't get out of Feral. I've tried. You have the best castle and it'll make my life a whole lot easier if I just have him back. He does things for me I don't like to do."

Delta looked over at Frank and she couldn't take it. She sort of wanted to do the expressionless thing, but she couldn't. She upchucked some real laughter deep from within. It jostled her so much her curls bounced upward on her sproingy head.

Then the face Silas started making due to her mocking him only made her laugh more. She couldn't breathe.

She had to hold onto the side of Frank's arm to catch her breath before she finally said, "So let me get this straight. You want us to give a shit what makes your life easier?" She even wiped her face on Frank's sleeve. They were actually watering it made her laugh so hard.

"Is this really happening right now?" Delta thought he might be mentally challenged.

Then Silas responded, "So you're saying I need to earn my keep to help you here?" He still tried to explain it to Delta. "That's what my dad is for. He's the one that does things for other people. Me too. He can't do them from in there. Just let him out and we can both get things."

"I've had him this whole time. If I wanted him out don't you think I would have?" Delta wasn't even sure why she was arguing with him. There was something about him that made her want to engage.

"No. He must have made you mad to put him in there. He loves me. If he has me here he'll do what you say because he'll be happy. It's a win-win, Delta, Frank. I can control him. I always do. I'm the joy of his life, his reason for going on without madness. He said so. Besides you, Delta. He always said that. There's Delta and there's me. His boy. We're the only thing that keeps his head above board after Hades. You know it's true."

Ok, now Delta's face was changing. She knew anything could go wrong with a plan like that. She thought of about a dozen ways it could go south in a matter of a minute. Still, she'd been trying to figure out how to safely handle him if she dared eject him from the vessel. Uncle Jenner. Delta was more sentimental about it than Silas was. Silas had attachments, but Delta actually cared in her depths. They weren't the same kind of emotions Delta had which was why this was walking a fence and Frank could probably feel it by all the sudden involuntary imagery in her head of her past.

"You think you can walk in here and get me all stirred up for Uncle Jenner because you have Daddy issues?"

"Uncle issues much? Pot. Black."

Her eyes narrowed in on him. Then without moving her head she told Frank on their private frequency "I want him alive. But he's yours until further notice. Tower. Dungeon. I don't care. I don't care what you do as long as he survives it with enough surgeon's fingers left to surg. I have to think. Don't judge me right now, Lurch. I can't think. I need to think."

She shivered as she dared let her head test the waters of what Jenner once insinuated. That she had a brother. A cousin? Like family? Delta hated this shit. Right when she thought she was out a thread with a grapple hook would pull her back in. This was why she liked Hell. It was silent. Just her and Frank. All that longing for family always disappeared there. She suddenly felt like blaming her father for this.

Then she remembered Oogie. "Get this Oogie lover out of my face."

"Heyyyy, guys. There's no Oogie in Feral." He tried to reason.

Then she held up a hand for Frank to wait.

"You are seriously trying to tell me you don't care about Oogie and expect us to just forgive and forget you were with her before? Yeah, right."

"No. I expect you to understand I'm not what you think I am."

Delta was too fuming to understand it because he was getting under her skin. It was hard to do but he was close enough to know her triggers. But what he meant was he wasn't like others. He didn't feel inside like others. Nothing counted to him because in his mind nothing was real. In his mind all he did was walk up and offer his control services of his father in exchange for accomidations. But, that's because he couldn't feel what Delta did. His attachments always came with a use for him not an actual sentiment. He didn't like staying out where he had to keep figuring out his own food, doing his own cleaning. Life was annoying without a father to delegate tasks.

“Later,” Go-Go said to Nebby, much more distracted by this dead dad. He didn’t look dead, not like River over by the piano did. That made this a lot more interesting. Jetsam had a big grin on his face so Go-Go grinned too at seeing her best friend happy, and this crazy looking guy happy too.

“Yeah, that sounds accurate,” Go-Go nodded at the description of her. Beanpole, check. Computer chip? Check. Ready to go ludicrous speed? Double check. Call her a black 1970 Dodge Charger R/T because she was fast and furious, baby. She looked down at her dress, smoothing it over her small frame. “Yeah? Maybe we could do a swap sometime.”

She started to laugh at Scout’s joke too - she followed Koda on instagram after meeting him, even though they’ve never really spoken. So she knew who the horse was. And knew that there was one man in this room who would very much disagree that a horse would look good, ever. Which made her chuckle a little harder.

Think fast? Yeah, she was.

“I was thinking we could go o a joy ride with some of the cars that I saw down in town, have some fun with no speed limits and no annoying pedestrians?”

She was thinking she wanted to try car surfing too, even if it was extremely dangerous but the wind whipping through her hair? The adrenaline? Fuck, it seemed like it would be a real trip.

--

Thomas found it hard to concentrate on his own vision at times but he did practice a lot, especially while he was working on his projects at home. The little details in carvings from the bed frames to the statuettes he made, he had to have a precise eye. But he was’t looking at Valerie the same way that he looked at a project. He was looking at her like she was the finished product, and he was admiring it. She was more gorgeous and awe-worthy than the Statue of David, had more strength than the terracotta army, and more elegant than the Bust of Nefertiti.

More than her song - Thomas wanted her here for everything.

And he was pretty sure everyone else did too. Delta didn’t invite her here just to perform. She wasn’t here to provide the entertainment, Valerie wanted to do that. And now she could take a step back, relax, and enjoy the party, even with Jetsam here. He seemed preoccupied for now, anyhow. And when he would, invariably, make his way over, Thomas was going to be right there.

A smile widened on his face when she said those fucking powerful words.

“You’re goddamn right,” He said with a stiff nod. She had more right to be here than a lot of these people. Than these ghosts. But man his heart was touched and his cock was growing hard. She said that like he was special too. Like she was special because she was HIS fucking wife, when she had always had the capacity to glow on her own.

“And I’ll remind you every single time. You’re not a box. You’re a whole goddamn house,” He told her. Because there were bits of Valerie all over their home, from her loaded closet in the bedroom to the Nutella always kept in the cupboard in their kitchen. No one puts baby in a corner. No one puts Valerie in a box.

He squeezed her hand once hers had reached his. Her strength was incomparable. “Yeah - you’re here with me tonight, love, and I’m going to make sure that we have the best time.”

Though the main show was over, Valerie’s singing, Black Arts’ playing, the dancers gone to their dates or frieds, Cheshire was still playing music over the speakers. He brought Valerie’s hand up to his mouth with a small smile making the corners turn upwards. “Care to dance with me?”

--

“Thank you,” Elsa said with a small bow of her head. The dress was quite dramatic, but it seemed to fit the theme. Normally she wouldn’t go through such rigamole for a single event but - this felt different. She was REALLY here with Koda, and everyone was seeing it this time around. Everyone, all together. So she allowed her credit card to get a little wear and tear.

And then River told them that he had been working on this, and he had been around and Koda’s amazement. It made her take a step out of herself for a moment and think about what River must have been up to. She had put herself in isolation for a large portion of her life, and it had been uncomfortable. River was a social being, and he had been forced into it, into being this invisible ghost that can only be seen during rare occurrences. Of course he had been practicing for this. It made her tighten that hug up once more.

The two boys - the two most important in her life, finished each other’s sentence in a different way and it even had her laughing a little. Seeing them together was just - good. Just like how she was going to be feeling good to watch this River interact with the rest of his family tonight.

“Yes, of course,” She said, nodding towards Koda. And then a small little smile at his double-meaning. She was always cool, wasn’t she? Though not as cold. “I’ll be alright.”

There was no ‘Tell him I say hello’ because Elsa just didn’t. She had nothing to say to Jetsam.

"You're still a charmer, River."

--

Stiffness - but not resistance. A part of him had expected a tantrum - but that was going off of the young man’s face rather than his mind. He just - very much looked the type. Spoiled soft. Rotten. But he didn’t resist, he walked without causing a scene. Another interesting thing to notice.

“I didn’t ask for a history lesson,” Frank said, lowly. “I’m out of school now, don’t need lectures.”

He wasn’t the only one with imagination. Delta had it in hoardes too. Turning the horse from a metaphorical thing into something real that their uninvited guest could be shoved into, he liked that. His mind went through the old gypsy-torturing technique of cutting open a horse’s stomach, shoving the owner inside, and then putting it over a burning flame to suffocate and heat to death at the same time? He’d like to do something like that. He didn’t have a great love for animals.

Oogie had been too pre-occupied to think about Delta. The Horned King’s spell had taken some of her best and brightest from her school, and she had to reassure many grieving parents that if their kids had any sense in their goddamn heads, they would have just stayed at her school instead of venturing out into NOLA. It was their own faults for leaving Halloweentown in the first place. There was a lot of victim blaming there. And then trying to groom the ones that were leftover. She had given Silas space in her new torture rooms to do as he wished, order what he wished, play with whoever he wished. But didn’t have the proper time to actually spend with him and share her own wicked imagination.

And then his acid girl spit through the shit, getting right to the point and he focused his eyes on Silas, waiting for a lie. He didn’t find one.

Well, it wasnt exactly the most exciting reason. But it wasn’t the stupidest either.

--

Pierre had been looking at Piper over Zero’s shoulder for a full minute now. Did a part of him love her, the way that it loved few other of his paramours? Yes. She lingered. She lingered hard, like lipstick on his skin, like perfume after she left the room.

And Seven and Zero stepped back like this was some kind of a movie and this was the presentation of the hot female actress. Perfectly centered between the two men and heading straight for him, like something out of a dream.

“You think anything could completely get rid of this beautiful face?” Pierre said, closing his eyes as he hugged Piper, taking in the rich smell of her hair, her perfume. Did this girl even sweat? Seemed unlikely.

She smelled of their burning tree.

And in true Pierre fashion, his hands didn’t just go around her shoulders or back in that hug. They trailed down past her waist, to where back turned into ass, just skirting being inappropriate.

Maddy wasn’t paying attention to Pierre anymore. She had been walking towards their group of friends, Wulf, Arthur, Little John, Lance, having already called the first two’s names but they were looking around the room rather than focusing on individual people, apparently. Then Bastien returned to her and laid out that question.

She put her hand on his arm. “Oh, he’s still dead, Bastien,” She said, slowly. “Some ghosts can gather their strength and come back during the year, the way that Frollo did. But most others have to wait until Halloween to take on any sort of form. He’ll leave. He has to leave. And I’m not wasting another thought on him until I have to.”

It did show her one thing though. It was possible to hug the dead. And there were people here she definitely wanted to hug.

[ozymoron]

3x13 ● Jerome Valeska

[ugh-yoongi]

heart got teeth | knj

(or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

→ pairing: namjoon x f. reader → genre: pwp; smut, angst, enemies to fwb to lovers (kinda) → rating: explicit. minors dni. → warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, reader is kind of a dickhead for a while but namjoon is a very into it and generally a horny disaster so it cancels out, side jihope because i can, hobi can’t hold his alcohol and namjoon says baby a lot so this is basically canon compliant, this is just porn with a crumb of plot so i will do my best with the explicit tags: kissing, joon has a wet dream, oral sex (m/f receiving), masturbation (namjoon does it a lot, reader once), fingering, i think there’s a handjob, dirty talk, dom undertones but nothing full-on, thigh riding, facesitting, referenced semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, one ass slap, very light choking, namjoon is just down really bad idk what else to say. → wordcount: 12k → playlist: 5 seconds of summer - teeth • monsta x - nobody else • waterparks - stupid for you • poppy - all the things she said • namasenda - 24/7 • bastille - goosebumps • monsta x - wildfire → a/n: this is a fic i wrote for an old fandom and reworked/rewrote to work in this context, so if it looks familiar, it is. don’t report me, i promise it's mine. :’) as always, thank you to lauren, jess, and bee for looking this over and catching all my fuckups. you all are the best and i would be a whole clown without the three of you.

To your credit, you truly have no ulterior, unsavory motives as you step inside.

It’s meant to be a simple night out with a few of your friends. A club, of course, because they never pass up an opportunity to go all-out: impeccable hair and makeup, outfits that are more like a second skin, fuck-me eyes with the glossed lips to match, ones that leave very little to the imagination of how low that mouth will go and how it’ll feel once it gets there.

Tonight’s about mourning. No more Seokjin in your entourage, seeing as he’s too busy fucking some boring accountant now. A “one-man man” he’d called himself, and you can’t possibly think of anything worse. There isn’t an accountant on earth hot enough to inspire monogamy.

So, you came to the club. The high-end one your friends like in the city with the hot bartender. Taehyung had wanted to blow off some steam before heading back to Daegu for a few weeks, anyway. Not that he has to wait long—someone catches his eye a few minutes in, leaving you and Jimin on your own.

Just as well. Neither of you have much trouble pulling.

Twelve minutes. Not your personal best, but it’ll do.

You have them pegged from a mile away. The taller one will have money and some sob story about growing up wealthy, fake humility dripping from every word as he waxes poetic about never taking anything for granted, while his friend—shorter by a few inches, hair looking neon red under the club lights, and certainly in his element—will play his good-cop partner in crime. He’s probably very charming, the type who will use his disarming, megawatt smile to secure a seat at the table and learn the drink order and pave the way for the dark-haired one to work his magic.

Because the dark-haired one will definitely work his magic. That smolder alone has probably been the cause of hundreds of weak knees, the kind of look that gets him whatever he wants with few questions asked besides, “yours or mine?”

You don’t bother to hide the disinterested look on your face, which suits you just fine. You know it’s flattering, your honeypot look. All to do with the slightly parted lips, the steeled, blasé stare that men fell over themselves to have focused on them. And, sure, you’ve taken a keen interest in vapid, meaningless sex with attractive strangers, but you aren’t sure you’ll be able to stomach the small talk these two will inevitably require to get to that point.

“Heads up,” Jimin says, nodding to his right.

You snort, hiding the downward tug of your mouth behind your whiskey glass. “I know.”

“Are you not interest—”

Jimin’s question is cut off by the smiley one finally reaching their table, immediately sliding into the booth beside him, both unprompted and unwelcome. Lithe limbs knock unceremoniously against the underside of the glossy table, and you can already see the gears turning in Jimin’s head. He never was able to resist a dancer’s body, which means the other one will be your problem for the evening.

“Would it be okay if I joined you?”

You cock an eyebrow at that. The dimly-lit, grimy club hardly seems like an appropriate setting for that level of refinement. “If you must.”

His bravado falters just for a second. Blink and you’ll miss it. Just as you expected, he isn’t used to being denied anything. “Oh,” he stammers, his eyes darting to his friend on his left who is too busy whispering god-knows-what in Jimin’s ear to notice. “It’s just… my friend,” he tries to explain.

Still gazing up at him, your lips stretch into a challenging smirk. “Mm, I noticed.”

He’s fidgeting. Weight shifts from one leg to the other, fingers flexed around the glass he’s holding before relaxing. “So, can I—”

“I don’t know,” you muse, “can you?”

“For fuck’s sake,” he mutters, his features immediately resetting to appear calm and collected. “May I?”

With a smug grin, you nod, gesturing to the empty space beside you. Your night was bound to be interrupted one way or another, and it’s always better to have it done so by someone so easily affected. There’s something deeply gratifying about making this stranger lose just that bit of control, of seeing his composed mask slip for only a second.

His enormous presence is immediately felt beside you, heat emanating from his flushed skin and calling to you like a siren song. And, god, is he attractive up close, the type of bone structure that plausibly could have been carved from stone, worshiped centuries ago. It takes a lot of self-restraint to not reach out and touch him, to keep your hands wrapped around your glass instead of skimming them along the outside of the thigh pressed against you.

If he’s going to be your only option for the evening, there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of fun, even if you aren’t particularly charmed by him.

Liking him isn’t a necessary prerequisite for taking him home—or to the bathroom, if the situation requires it—and having him fuck you senseless.

This is a game you’ve played—and won—countless times before. Because you can feel his dark gaze on you, each sideways glance lasting longer than the one before. Can see how jittery he still is, as if he feels the electricity between you, too, but is too paralyzed to act on it.

So, really, it shouldn’t be a surprise that you toy with him. He sneaks a glance, you make a show of crossing your legs, the garish club lights reflecting off smooth, soft skin. Another glance and you run your tongue slowly over your bottom lip, pretending to listen intently to whatever Jimin’s saying. You bare your neck to him as you throw back the last of your drink, head lolling to the side just enough to have him wondering how it’d feel to press his lips against the skin there.

A small, private grin to yourself when he sputters and tries awkwardly to cover it by clearing his throat. “Can—can I buy you another drink?”

God, he almost makes it too easy. “I don’t know. Can you?”

There’s a sharp sound as he bangs his fist on the table, jaw clenched in frustration. “I’m not going to ask twice.” Meant as a threat, but you know exactly what it is: just another attempt to regain control. You almost take pity on him. The poor guy really isn’t used to not easily getting whatever he wants.

You lean over, lips close enough to the shell of his ear to make the hair stand on his arms. “You’re lucky I let you ask once.”

He looks positively flustered now, a furious, rapid blush creeping up his neck, and you take his reaction and tuck it away for later. Want to save it, want to memorize the look on his face—the small parting of his lips, the barely-audible groan, the subtle roll of his shoulders. Want to think about it all later, preferably when you’re alone. Maybe in bed.

Jimin’s still engaged in conversation with the one who can’t stop laughing, his eyes lighting up every time he leans in to say something with that heart-shaped mouth only meant for Jimin to hear. When he pulls away from Jimin and turns his attention to you, you’re finally able to take in the lines of his face. Softer than the one you’re currently sitting next to, a bit more feminine, but you know there’s bite to him. Definitely attractive, has that familiar brand of confident swagger, and one-hundred percent Jimin’s type.

You think Jimin calls your name.

You turn your attention back to your friend, who’s looking at you expectantly. “Hm? Sorry, Chim, I couldn’t hear you.”

“Hoseokie-hyung says the next round is on him. D’you want another drink?”

“A few shots of tequila would be lovely,” you smile. “Thanks so much.”

You can feel the man beside you tense as he says, “I’ll join you, hyung.”

He stands, staring at you with a look that says he knows exactly what game you’re playing, giving everyone else all of your sweet and reserving the sour only for him. Seems like he isn’t all that impressed, either, if the tight set of his jaw is any indication. All you bother to offer him in return is a slow, deliberate smirk. Game on.

Jimin leans across the table conspiratorially. “So…? What do you think of Namjoon?”

“Who’s Namjoon?” you answer, nails clacking away as you reply to a text from Taehyung.

“Are you serious?” Jimin frowns. “He’s been sitting next to you all night.”

You chuckle at that. “Why do I need to know his name if you’re just going to fuck his friend?”

“I’m not—” Jimin pauses, pushes his bubblegum pink hair out of his face, chews the thought over. “Okay, I am, but—”

“It’s fine, Minnie. Do your thing. That’s the whole reason we came out, anyway.”

Jimin clicks his tongue. “You don’t like him at all? Not even a little bit?”

“You know he’s not my type.”

“Excuse me?” Jimin nearly shrieks. “Tall, extremely handsome, and rich isn’t your type?”

You roll your eyes. “Stuck-up dickhead isn’t my type. I’m extremely good-looking and rich on my own.”

“I don’t think he’s a dick,” Jimin defends. “Plus, he seems super into you. He was making googly eyes every time I looked over.”

“Guys always look at us like that on a night out.”

It takes a few minutes and a disregarded pleading stare, but Jimin eventually throws his hands up in surrender. “Fine! Just… be nice, at least.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Why? You planning on keeping that guy around awhile?”

Jimin frowns, moves to protest, but his words are cut off by Hoseok again stumbling back to their table, a massive grin spreading across his face as he sidles up next to Jimin. With none of the same enthusiasm, Namjoon stands awkwardly next to the table, refusing to meet your eye as he hands out shots, two for everyone. Amused, you wonder if there’s a reason he might need to take the edge off. You huff a knowing, soft laugh.

As he reluctantly slides in next to you—distance kept, of course; no contact—you and Jimin move to clink your shot glasses together. You’ve rehearsed this scene a million times before: lean across the table, nearly touching; then, you’ll use a bit too much force, sending the drink spilling over the rim of the glass, sloshing onto the exposed skin of Jimin’s chest, which you lick off with an, “Oops, sorry, babe!” and an innocent smile.

Hook, line, and sinker.

Works every time.

Namjoon shifts beside you, clearly trying to appear unbothered. Some mumbled sentence about the club getting too warm and he rolls his sleeves to his elbows, the slight sheen of sweat covering an expanse of golden skin—the sight of which sends an unwelcome pang of heat straight to your core.

And he doesn’t miss it, either. “See something you like, baby?” he asks, confidence returning with a smugness that doesn’t sit right with you.

“All I see are two sweaty arms, so… no, not really.”

Namjoon studies you, nostrils flared as he tries to seem unfazed again. “You are truly insufferable, you know that?”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion of me.”

He rolls his eyes. “Consider the first one free.”

“Well, I don’t plan on paying for a second, so I guess you’ll have to sit there like a good little boy and keep your thoughts to yourself.”

He chokes on his drink, sputtering and coughing in a way that has Hoseok leaning across the table to slap him on the back. “Namjoon-ah, are you—”

“I’m fine,” Namjoon snaps, not meeting his friend’s eye.

Jimin, with a knowing look on his face—yet still pointed, since his request for you to be nice has clearly fallen on deaf ears—offers Namjoon a sweet smile. “So, Namjoon-ssi, what do you do?”

“I’m—”

“He’s a psycho,” Hoseok slurs, cheeks flushed from all the alcohol and enough confidence in his answer to wipe the smile from Jimin’s face. “No, wait—”

You try really hard to mask the snort of laughter that manages to escape, but it only worsens when Namjoon says, “I’m a psychotherapist,” at the same time Hoseok clarifies again that, “He’s a psycho?”

“A therapist, huh? That seems important.” You know what Jimin’s doing, still hell-bent on his mission to get you to give Namjoon a chance. “What else are you into?”

“Bicycles,” Hoseok slurs again.

Namjoon groans, tossing back a shot before answering, “Motorcycles.”

“Mm, no, it’s definitely bicycles and you’re lying to seem cool since you don’t even have a license. But whatever.” Then he turns to Jimin, a 24 karat smile on his face as he asks, “Do you wanna come back to my apartment and have sex? I live alone.” Despite yourself and the horrified looks on both Namjoon’s and Jimin’s faces, you have to respect the boldness.

“You’re really drunk, hyung,” Jimin replies hesitantly.

Hoseok just shrugs. “You can stay over. I’ll sleep on the couch and then I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can have sex after.”

“So respectful,” you laugh. “I’ll fuck your brains out in the morning, but I won’t defile your honor by sharing a bed with you.”

Jimin seems gobsmacked. “I…” He looks at you, who just shrugs. Not the first time Jimin will leave with someone from the bar and, despite your friend’s initial hesitation, it probably won’t be the last, either. “Okay. But I want a full spread in the morning! All the banchan, too! Nothing weird.”

Hoseok doesn’t press his luck, just tosses some money in Namjoon’s direction, grabs Jimin’s hand, and does his best to stumble out the door while he calls for a taxi.

Namjoon’s presence feels almost overwhelming once the two of you are alone, still sitting too close together on the same side of the table. You know he’s stealing glances at you again, can feel his eyes on you, your skin, as you busy yourself with your phone. Send quick ‘text me when you get to their place and again in the morning’ messages to both Jimin and Taehyung even though they always do and don’t have to be told, but Namjoon’s gaze is heavy and there are implications and questions behind it that, frankly, you’re looking to avoid.

Maybe he’s affected more than he’s letting on. Surely a guy like him—so used to being in control, so used to being chased—isn’t the type to sit around and wait for orders, especially concerning something he wants. And he does want you. That much is clear.

You’ve dragged him so far off course it’s all he can do to tread water. Namjoon is fine with disinterest; not every person in the world is going to want him, despite the ego that tries very hard to convince him otherwise. Sometimes they want the charming, outgoing one instead of the reserved one who doesn’t do anything without a purpose, and such is the reality of being Hoseok’s wingman. That’s fine—really, he doesn’t mind. Always better to go home alone than with someone who isn’t all-in on him.

But he hasn’t been able to figure you out at all.

Worse, you know it.

So, if you accidentally-on-purpose rub your foot along his calf as you cross your legs and smirk at the strangled groan that escapes him, who can blame you?

“Guess that’s my cue to leave as well.” No room for misinterpretation, there. It’s as closed-off and uninviting as it can be, yet Namjoon stays frozen in place, unable to move aside to let you out of the booth. “Well?”

He comes to, coughing a bit as he shuffles into the aisle to his left. “Right, yeah. How are—will—do you need a ride home?”

You roll your lips. “Are you offering? With no license?”

“Yes,” he says, the word breathier than he’d like.

You smile sweetly, a slender finger moving to trace along his jawline. His eyes flutter closed at your touch, thick eyelashes ink-black and out of place against his cheek. Your lips move back to the shell of his ear. “Then no.”

Undeterred, Namjoon gently wraps his fingers around your wrist, keeping you close. “The alternative is giving me your number and letting me know you get home safe.”

“That sounds an awful lot like an order,” you muse. “So, what would happen if I took your number, promised I’ll text, and you never heard from me again? Would I get punished?”

Something dark flashes in his eyes—perhaps your first glimpse of who he typically is, confident and dominant and very comfortable playing this game. “Something tells me you wouldn’t do that to me.”

You smirk, reaching out with your free arm to graze your nails down his side. His muscles flex under your touch, defined and solid, as he hisses. “I think that’s called your ego.” Your eyes trail lower. “Unless it’s… something else?”

“Something else?” he questions. “Didn’t take you for the shy type.”

Entranced, Namjoon watches as white teeth bite down on your bottom lip, your tongue darting out briefly to ease the sting. One brief, fleeting thought about how it’d feel to have that tongue someplace else and his cock twitches in his jeans. Barely an hour together and he’s certain you’ll be the death of him. A million little deaths he’ll willingly endure.

“Like your girls with a dirty mouth, do you?”

All he can muster is a crooked grin. “And if I say yes?”

You laugh softly. “Then I’ll ask you, kindly, to remove your fingers from my wrist and go splash some cold water on that pretty face of yours. You’re about two seconds away from coming in your jeans and not even I dislike you enough to let you embarrass yourself like that.”

His grip on you loosens. “You don’t like me? Don’t you think that’s a bit strong? You barely know me.”

“Oh, were you under the assumption this was something more?” When he doesn’t answer, you extract yourself from him and wink. “Maybe you can think about me later when you’re jerking off.”

And if he spends the rest of his evening doing exactly that? Well, that’s his business.

Namjoon spends the next two weeks doing that, actually.

Your touch is seared into his mind—the feel of your fingers tracing along his jaw, his sides, the way his body reacted to you, an obvious desperation even before he’d let it get this bad, fester this long. The urge was slowly growing out of control, and he told himself each morning that today would be the day, he’d send that stupid fucking Instagram message asking you out—

Because that’d been your play the night you’d met. As promised, you took his number and never texted, just posted a goddamn thirst trap to your Instagram story that was clearly meant for him. Because you knew he’d chase you, figure out some way to find you. Fresh out of the shower, hair wet and droplets teasing down your chest, silk camisole barely hanging on as you snapped a photo over your shoulder in your bedroom mirror. A small winking emoji in the corner as if to say yes, I made it home—alone. And since you’re alone, too, have fun touching yourself.

He’d barely been in bed ten minutes before his pants were pushed halfway down his thighs and he was spilling into his hand.

It became routine somewhere around day six. Instead of sending the message, he’d lose his resolve, fall into bed at the end of the day, and let you consume his thoughts as he got himself off. God, he’d started to get greedy—always wanted more, imagined more, and it never took long. A vague memory of the perfume you wore, a stray thought of the way it’d smell imprinted into his sheets, his skin; the hawkish look on your face as you’d studied him, trying to decide if you wanted to worship him or ruin him.

Bit late for that, Namjoon thinks as he comes into his fist. He’s already ruined.

Part of him wants you to know, wants you to see how undone he becomes just at the thought of you, almost wants you to humiliate him for what he’s just done—and his hips stutter one last time at the thought, shocking him into contemplative silence. That’s new.

Instead, he stands on shaky legs and moves to his bathroom, running a washcloth under cool water to clean off his hands. God, he’s utterly wrecked. He begs his brain to figure it out, get it together long enough to just compose a simple text asking you on a date. The inevitable rejection will quell the wildfire and he’ll finally be able to go more than a second without thinking about you, about how you’ve reduced him to a writhing, nervous mess.

His heart hammers in his chest as he fetches his phone and stares down at an empty Instagram message. Words suddenly don’t seem to make sense as he wracks his brain for a way to phrase his question that won’t make him sound like a complete fool.

I’d like to take you out tomorrow, he types, only to delete it once he realizes the only response he receives will be some variation of “I bet you would.”

Can I… he begins to type again. Quickly deletes that, too, and types May I take you out tomorrow? instead. It still doesn’t feel like enough, he’s sure you’re going to tell him no and tell him to fuck off, but that just means he won’t be disappointed when that’s exactly what happens.

Before he can overthink it, he presses ‘send’ and resists the urge to turn his phone off completely. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous asking someone out—then again, he was usually able to skirt by on his good looks and a well-executed smolder. Not now, though. Somehow, he’s managed to become ensnared by the one person in the entire country who finds his charm repulsive and off-putting. And it’s not like he can suffer in silence, either. Hoseok had caught on quickly, sometime during the first week, because Namjoon didn’t have much time or desire to go out. He’d been able to fumble an excuse, something about working late, because he couldn’t tell him he couldn’t stop jerking off over a woman who wanted nothing to do with him and still be able to look his friend in the eye afterwards.

Their friendship doesn’t have many limits, but that’s certainly one of them.

He’s halfway to Googling “how to unsend an Instagram message” when his phone vibrates in his sinful hand, his stomach dropping to the floor when he sees it’s from you.

And clearly not meant for him.

It’s a screenshot of a selfie he’d posted weeks ago on his parents’ boat, a picturesque sunset in the background that bathed his silhouette in golden light. Namjoon knows he’s photogenic, looks damn good from all angles and has never taken a bad picture in his life, even candidly, but that one had been especially striking, so he’s not really surprised. He has, however, gone dry in the mouth at the text below it.

Tae, you don’t understand. He’s so fucking hot it pisses me off a little. He’s kind of a dickhead but I’d still fuck the shit out of him.

Oh.

Well, fuck. He certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

His fingers twitch, both to reply to the message and wrap around his cock for the umpteenth time since that night at the club. And he knows the right thing to do is pretend he hasn’t seen it, not mention it, don’t rub your face in it, because if the situation was reversed, he doesn’t figure he’d like someone ribbing him, either. But he’d be a fucking fool to pass this up, so he replies with “Oh?” and throws the winking emoji back at you.

Another ten minutes pass and he’s certain he’s blown it. And then—

He nearly blacks out at what’s on his screen. Desire needles at his skin like a wildfire destined to burn out of control as he drinks in the sight of you, all that naked, smooth skin contrasting against the crisp, white sheets you’re wrapped in. There’s just a hint of indecency, a promise of a whole lot more, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember having seen anything so perfect, can’t focus on anything except the sound of his blood in his ears and the picture in front of him. Wonders how it’d feel to run his hands over all that bare skin; how it’d taste. What you’d sound like as he took his time unraveling you—if you would even let him.

A whimper escapes him as another message comes through.

You can’t take me out, but I might let you invite me over if you behave and keep your hands to yourself until tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, already feeling his boxers begin to tent.

You break your kiss and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards into the wall. You’re a vision in crimson red before him, the lingerie leaving nothing to the imagination besides a plethora of unholy thoughts. Fingers twitch at his sides, itching to reach out and grab you.

You take a step back, just out of his reach. “You’re a very dirty boy, aren’t you?” you tease, your head cocking to the side as you take him in. “Can’t ever keep your hands to yourself.”

Lighting himself on fire would feel the same, Namjoon thinks. His blood burns in his veins, thick with such a heavy desire that it consumes him. He’s still fully dressed yet completely unraveled, so hard it’s painful, and he needs you to keep talking, needs you to touch him, needs you—

“Baby,” he whines, his hips betraying him as they thrust against nothing. “Please.”

A slow, sultry smile. “Didn’t take you for the begging type.” He groans again at his words being parroted back to him.

“I’m not.”

“And now?” you ask. “Would you beg for it?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “Whatever you want.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to give someone that kind of power? You never know what they may do with it.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can reconsider. “Baby, no one has complete power over me.”

He knows immediately he’s fucked, knows it even more when a mischievous smile stretches across your face. You’re so composed, just standing there in front of him as if he wouldn’t drop to his knees and do whatever you asked of him, like you have all the time in the world and this is just a minor inconvenience. As if you aren’t taking him apart at the seams, popping each stitch one by one and letting him hang in freefall. Making him sweat it out.

Beating him at his own game.

“Is that so?” You take a step closer, study him. See the way his eyes flutter closed in anticipation, the intake of breath, almost a plea. “Should we put those words to the test?”

You drop to your knees languidly, still too far away, and look up at him through dark lashes, your tongue rolling across your lips just enough to moisten them and state your intent. “What do you want, Namjoon?”

His name sounds obscene in your mouth. “I—” His brain and his body are at war, too much information to process that he can’t find the words, can’t formulate a single coherent thought. “I don’t, I—”

“Surely someone so in control could use their words?” He’s fucking ruined. “I’m on my knees in front of you and you can’t think of a single thing you’d like me to do?”

“I want your mouth,” he breathes.

“That’s not very specific. There’s lots of things my mouth can do.”

“Like talk a lot of shit,” he responds tartly.

“Yes, but that’s nowhere near as fun as the others.” You huff a laugh as you move close enough to rake your fingernails down his thighs. “Take these off.”

You’re still staring up at him from your place on the floor, your rapt attention doing fuck-all to help the way his hands are trembling. It’s not the first time he’s had a woman on her knees in front of him, but it’s the first time he can’t stop shaking long enough to pop the button on his jeans and drag them down his legs. Usually skilled, deft fingers rendered completely useless.

“You could make yourself useful and help me, you know,” he quips. Another failed attempt at the button before he finally gets it; something between a relieved groan and a hiss as he drags the zipper over his strained erection.

“Would you rather I undo your pants or make you come down my throat?” Namjoon is too dazed to answer. “You need to think before you speak, babe. That smart mouth will get you into trouble.”

“I’m already in a world of it, baby,” he responds, moving to palm himself.

You catch his wrist and move it back to his side. “No touching, yourself or me. You touch me and I stop.”

He barely resists the urge to ask what in the hell is wrong with you, can’t you see how desperate he is, how he’s already at the edge and you’ve barely touched him, that you’ve already won, might as well give in and stop fucking around.

Instead, he barely manages a nod. Plants his hands against the cold plaster of the wall at his back.

And waits.

You’re still kneeling on the floor in front of him, but the smug grin is new. He cocks an eyebrow, whether in question or challenge he isn’t sure, but you ignore it all the same. “How in control are you?” you ask.

“What?”

“No one has complete control over you, right?” You move so you’re laying back, propped up slightly on your elbows. “Would you be in control if I took this off?” you ask, tracing a finger along the lace trim of your thong.

His breath feels thick in his throat. “Yes.”

Hips jut into the air as you shimmy the garment down the expanse of your legs. If he was having trouble breathing before, he’s damn near suffocating now as he takes you in again, laying bare before him. Your nails graze along your skin—slowly, teasingly—and he watches, hypnotized, as they near your core. A hitched breath, wondering if you’re going to touch yourself as he watches. A silent prayer the answer is yes.

And it is. Fuck, it is.

You repeat your question—“Are you in control now?”—and he doesn’t know the answer. He is and isn’t, knows the reality doesn’t quite match up with what he wants to say. It’s a struggle just to tread water, let alone think up some smart response to hide how untethered he really is, to maintain that façade.

“Baby, I—”

“You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

He groans, his fingers grasping at nothing as they try to dig into the wall. It’s all too much. Sensory overload. The sight of you, the lilt in your voice as you tease him. He’s always prided himself on his control, his dominance, and now that the trap door has given way beneath him and he’s left suspended, he’s simultaneously never felt more terrified and more alive.

“Yes,” he finally chokes out.

Your eyes lock on his as you say, “Go ahead.”

The first stroke brings such relief he’s certain he’s going to black out. A loud, unabashed moan comes with the second. The third—god, the third has his toes curling against the wood floor, that familiar heat pooling in his belly, ready to engulf everything in its path. His thighs begin to tremble as he keeps working himself over, and it’s not a second later that—

It’s nearly the afternoon when Namjoon jolts awake, his heart feeling ready to burst right through his chest. He doesn’t bother peeking under the covers, already knows, without having to look, what a mess he’s made of himself. Again. It hadn’t even been this bad when he was a teenager, and it’s this thought that has him stumbling to the shower to wash away his indiscretions. Sets the temperature all the way to cold as he steps inside, standing right under the spray.

Pathetic, really, how he can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop replaying in his mind how you’d felt, how you’d made him feel. The feel of your skin on the pads of his fingers, against his own; the smell of you, the taste of your mouth. The sight of you open and wanting and coming undone in front of him. If you’d managed to overwhelm every one of his senses in a dream, what was the real thing going to be like?

You’d told him to keep his hands to himself, but not even the sting of the freezing water is enough to cool him down, so he thinks about it once, twice, nearly three times before he slips his hand around his cock. What you don’t know won’t kill you, and he’s certainly not planning on coming clean.

Just needs to take the edge off. It’d assuredly be worse to walk around his place all day with an erection, he reasons.

 The wait is torturous. Time itself seems to betray him, the clock barely moving every time he sneaks a glance at his phone. If he goes to hell when he dies, it’ll just be this, he thinks—the maddeningly slow wait for a booty call he can’t stop thinking about.

Because that’s all it is. He has to remind himself of this when it starts to feel too real, too comfortable, like he’s waiting for a date or something more serious than whatever this is. You don’t like him, don't like the way he carries himself or any aspect of his personality at all, really. Usually he’d be fine with a quick fling, a casual hook up or two to blow off some steam. But he’s a relationship, commitment kind of guy at heart, so despite his best efforts, the thought of this becoming something more still creeps in every now and then. A daydream.

Send me your address.

Nerves engulf him as the message comes through, and he must type and retype his response a dozen times before he finally gets it right.

Half hour.

The waiting game again. He moves around his place frantically, tidying and straightening, lights a candle, changes into something more presentable than joggers.

There’s a knock at the door and he swallows hard, tries to muster up some of his old confidence again. This isn’t him. Namjoon has never been reduced to a pining, uncertain mess, and he’s so off-kilter he barely manages to make it to the door before the third series of knocks.

As he pulls it open, his face drops unceremoniously. You aren’t standing on the other side, ready to greet him with a sultry grin. Instead, there’s a gangly-looking teenager in a uniform, his hat askew as he holds a pizza box.

“Uh, hi. Can I help you?” Namjoon asks, peering around the kid to look out into the hallway.

“I have a small sausage for you,” comes the response. Nasally and bored.

Namjoon chokes, the choice of words catching him off-guard. “I didn’t order a pizza.”

“Are you Kim Namjoon-ssi?” He nods. “Then this is for you.” The kid tries shoving the box into Namjoon’s hands, but he takes a step back.

“I promise you, I did not order a pizza.”

“Look,” the kid sighs, all politeness tossed aside immediately, “it’s already been paid for. Just take the damn box and throw it away if you don’t want it. I really don’t give a shit what you do with it, but I’ve got other deliveries to make.”

Eyes narrowed, Namjoon grabs the box and slams the door, opting to ignore the muffled you could’ve at least tipped me, you cheap asshole from the other side. Tosses the pizza onto his kitchen counter and stalks towards his bedroom where he’d left his phone.

Did you send me a fucking pizza? he types.

Told you not to touch yourself, comes your response.

It’s another week before he can convince you to see him.

A week of borderline begging—because he refuses to actually do so—and teasing and whispered confessions he doesn’t think twice about. He wants you. He wants you so badly he’s dizzy with it, and he’s done playing games. His desire is out there already and it’s obvious. No point in acting coy now.

You agree under the condition the two of you meet at the club. Have a few drinks with Jimin and Hoseok. No doubt to prolong his suffering, Namjoon figures, but he agrees all the same, willing to play along. He just wants to see you; hopes maybe being face-to-face will extinguish some of the heat.

But it doesn’t.

Of course it doesn’t.

You’re barely in each other’s company twenty minutes before he lets you drag him down a quiet corridor and into an empty bathroom. You let him press you against the sink, dress hiked up around your thighs; let him press a desperate, searing kiss to your mouth, all tongue and teeth and sighs of relief.

The first time scratches the itch. It’s quick—almost embarrassingly so—and rough, right there in the club, and all Namjoon can think about is the taste of you, how all those daydreams hadn’t done you a lick of justice. Swears stars pop behind his eyelids and he can hear a choir. You had been stunning in all his fantasies, but up close, in person, you’re so much better. As if your body is meant only to bring him to his knees, to make him surrender.

Namjoon very quickly realizes he’s got a problem on his hands.

There’s no way he’ll be able to let you go—already can’t stomach the thought of you being with anyone else. He doesn’t want to be with anyone else, and he curses at himself for letting it get this far, for letting someone ruin him this way. He knows without having to hear you say it that you aren’t the type to be tied down. Probably goes running at the first sign of attachment. But he can’t help himself, torn between touching himself to the memory of the way you felt around him and the thought of what it might be like to have something more.

The second time you come to him. Press him against the wall in the entryway and drop to your knees, your mouth working him into a frenzy before he can barely mutter a greeting. Fingers itch to tangle into your hair when he remembers his dream, wonders if he’s allowed to touch you like that, hopes that maybe he isn’t.

He wants you to destroy him.

“Baby,” he says, a fractured moan punctuating the sound of your name that follows. A hand joins your mouth in moving along his length and he swears. “Baby.”

There’s an obscene noise as you release him from your mouth, a trail of spit barely connecting the two of you as you look up at him with a gaze that’s been seared into his memory for weeks. “What?”

“I—fuck.” Your hand’s still working him, still doing that thing where it twists on the upstroke that has him feeling like all the air’s been punched from his lungs. “I want you,” he breathes. “I want—wanna make you come.”

A smile betrays you, the corners of your mouth turning up just enough for him to catch. “Do you want it?” Your free hand moves to his thigh, kneading at the cords of muscle there. Fingers dig into the crease at his hip, the ditch of his knee. “Or do you need it?”

“Yes,” is all he manages to say.

You sit back on your haunches, looking straight out of his wet dream as you stare up at him, bottom lip tugged between your teeth. “Go sit on the couch,” you instruct.

If he’s ever moved faster, he can’t recall when. You follow slowly, items of clothing dropping behind you as you go, only your matching lingerie left by the time you reach him. His breath catches again, both in awe and in anticipation. Yes, you’re stunning, but Namjoon can’t remember anyone else having ever invoked such a strong response from him. Every part of him needs you.

You straddle him, legs anchored at his sides as he grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. You’ve kissed dozens of times before, desperate, more teeth than anything else. This one he’s determined to take slow, take his time, savor you.

And as soon as he feels you tense, as soon as you pull away and move your lips to a spot just below his ear, he knows he has the answer to a question he never bothered to ask.

Teeth graze his earlobe. “I’ve been thinking about these,” you say, your palms dragging up and down his thighs. “Wanna get myself off on you.” And just like that, all those thoughts of something else are pushed to the back of his mind.

A loud whine escapes him, hips rocking forward to press his erection against your clothed center. Decides to take a risk and dig his fingers into your hips, a stray hope he might leave a mark, have just that bit of claim to you. Uses his leverage to situate you onto one thigh.

“By all means,” he says, lips moving against your collarbone. Hooks the fabric of your thong to the side, hands still on your hips to begin moving you. “But I want to feel it. All of it. Want to watch you make a mess on my leg.”

You move slowly at first, trying to find a balance between what you need and the tempo Namjoon is setting. A relieved moan when you find the right combination, and Namjoon matches it when he feels how wet you are. You move unabashedly, plant your hands on his chest as your hips grind faster, more frantic. Namjoon covers your hands with his own, fingers moving over yours as he digs your nails into his chest, drags them down far enough he knows they’ll leave marks. Thrusts at the thought of being marked by you, of having a reminder to come back to in the morning when you’ll inevitably be gone.

“Fuck, Joon,” you moan. “Feels so good.”

Hands still covering yours, Namjoon moves one to his neck, praising you as you tighten your grip around his throat. “That’s it. Just like that, baby. You look so beautiful using me like this.”

Namjoon can tell how close you are long before you ever bother to tell him. Sees the slight falter of your motions, feels you press yourself harder against him, desperate for more friction, the light sheen of sweat forming at your brow. He wonders, briefly, if you’ll actually let go, if you trust him enough to let him bear witness to you coming undone.

His question is answered as you break into a shaking, gasping mess, collapsing into his arms as he wraps them around you, tangling a hand in your hair and pressing kisses to your temple. Rains praise down upon you, tells you how thankful he is to be able to witness it. Wants to commit all of it to memory—your heaving chest, trembling thighs, the sounds you make as you come down from your high, the dazed look in your eyes as you open them and meet his own.

Knows he’s going to say something stupid, so he crashes his lips to yours, hungry for you in a way that honestly terrifies him. A way he’s never wanted anyone else. And he knows that’s the catch with you, knows this has an expiration date, and so he pushes this thought to the furthest corner of his mind. Knows he has to stay in the moment lest it all comes spiraling down around him.

He grabs the back of your thighs and stands from the couch, waits for you to wrap your legs around his waist before he moves toward his bedroom. Isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it, thinks about just fucking you into the wall in the hallway, but judging from the state of his leg, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to afford the dry cleaning bill if the two of you stay on the couch.

Obscene words spill from your mouth with each step he takes and he spares a moment to marvel at his self-restraint. Wonders when he’d acquired it, because he seems to have lost all of his old sensibilities when it comes to you. “Want you so bad,” you say, words nearly a purr as you speak them into the crook of his neck. “Just fuck me right here.” You use his grip on you to roll your hips, slick center gliding along the length of his cock.

He groans at the contact, lets your words wash over him and bathe him in your indecency. You roll your hips again, a lewd temptation and always a challenge. You want to tempt him straight to the edge and watch as he goes over, want him to regain control and lose it over and over again, want to ruin him for anyone who comes after you. And Namjoon knows you’re going to, knows this has already gone too far despite only having just begun, and he feels the anger seep in alongside the lust, though he can’t tell who it’s directed at. Probably himself, but that doesn’t reign him in.

He presses you against the wall of his bedroom, presses a searing kiss to your mouth—that dirty, unrelenting mouth of yours that never seems to stop—and he wants to kiss you breathless. Wants to shut you up, wants you to surrender, to beg, wants a million things he will never get.

And, all along, you were right. He always wants. Wants you, wants more, wants impossible things. Despite having you exactly where he wants you right now, you’re going to leave. You’re going to leave and he’s going to be left behind, wanting and destroyed and longing, and he’s none too impressed to be on this side for once.

Because, as he moves you to the bed and drapes his body atop yours, your words echo in his mind:

Want you so bad.

Want.

Not need. Never will be need.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he says, hands everywhere at once, the feel of you beneath him nothing more than an answered prayer. His fingers move lower to your clit, teasing, circling slowly. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want,” you drawl, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging, and he gasps at the sting, “to watch you. I want to see exactly how good I make you feel.” His hips move of their own accord, pressing you further into the mattress. He’s so fucking hard, can barely believe he’s still conscious, and he’s absolutely drunk on the reality of you. “Do you want that? Want me to ride you until you come?”

“Fuck,” he moans. “Yes.”

You pull at his hair again, forcing him to look at you. “Then say it. Tell me you want it.”

“Fuck, baby, yes.” Slips a finger inside your cunt, desperate to make you as needy as he is. Pumps once, twice, before he adds a second. “Want you to make me come. Want all of it. Everything.”

A wordless demand for him to roll over as you nudge his shoulder, but not before your hips jerk upwards to meet his fingers, seeking him even though you’d never dare admit it. He smirks down at you, cheeks dimpling, moves his thumb back to your clit just to watch you writhe. Traces slow circles again just to listen to the way your breath hitches, to hear the small, gasping pants against his neck. Applies a hint more pressure just to feel your muscles clench tighter around him, the grind of you against his hand, hungry for more even when he’s ready to give you everything you want.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asks, delighting in the whines spilling from your mouth. “First my leg, now my fingers. I think you’re getting greedy, baby.”

You glare at him through lidded eyes. “Maybe I should hold it in. Think twice about stroking that massive ego of yours.”

He finds your wrist and grasps it loosely, moving it down his body to his cock. “You can stroke something else, if you’d prefer.”

You take him in your hand, pumping slowly. Gather the beads of precome at the head and move down the shaft and back up again. “Notice you didn’t mention anything about it being massive. Is that what the ego’s for? To compensate?”

Anyone else and he might be offended. But, coming from you, it’s just a challenge. Another jab. The game you love to play and have become very, very good at. A lesser man might not be able to handle it, but Namjoon… Well, it’d been his game first, after all, and he knows better than anyone that the only way to win is to not play.

So, he withdraws his fingers right as you’re at the edge. Makes a show of putting them in his mouth and sucking them clean, does his best to ignore the obscene jolt of arousal as you mutter a “Jesus fucking Christ” under your breath. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, baby.”

You roll your eyes, releasing his cock from your grasp. “So what? I’m being punished?”

“Only nice girls get to come.”

He’s on his back before he realizes he’s moved. Your fingers are wrapped tight around his wrists, pinning them above his head. A truly wicked grin forms on your face and he wonders, briefly, how anyone survives you. How no one has combusted under the sheer force of you and that look and everything that comes after it. Namjoon wants to burn beneath you for centuries, or however long you’ll allow.

Your body moves languidly up his own until your core is positioned over his face. “Maybe so, but nice girls don’t take what they want, either,” is all you manage to say before he wrangles his wrists out of your grasp and grabs onto your hips roughly, pulling you down against his mouth.

The first kiss he presses against you is soft, teasing. You groan, curse at him for being a tease, and press harder against his face. He flattens his tongue as he laps at you, desperate and hungry for your taste, pausing every so often to slap your ass, tell you to take exactly what you need from him. As you move above him, hips rolling against his mouth, his own body writhes at the heat between them, the brazen frenzy that’s taken over you.

He’s not sure how long he spends between your legs, but he knows it’s not long enough. He’d spend forever there if he could, drunk on it. You taste divine, and he tells you as much over and over, words spilling from his mouth when you aren’t putting it to use.

Thighs, still anchored on the sides of his head, begin to tremble, energy still pent up from the orgasm he’d denied you. He considers doing it again, payback for all your teasing and that smart mouth, but his body betrays him before he can even make up his mind, tongue flat and anchored against your clit as you grind and roll your hips across it. God, he never thought he’d get off on being used like this, always thought he needed to be in control to enjoy sex, but nothing about you has ever really made sense to him except that he can’t get enough.

As you come a second time, all he can do is gaze up at you in admiration. He wants you to take the piss out of him, loves watching the twinkle in your eyes as you scheme up some tart response. He wants the denial, the what-ifs, the second-guessing that always ends with you a blissed-out, moaning mess on top of him. Even now, when you’re exactly where he wants you most, it’s not enough. He still wants more.

He maneuvers so you’re eye-to-eye. Allows himself only a second of pride at how disheveled you are before he wraps his hand around the back of your neck, pulling you into a rough kiss. Receives a whimper as you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, his face. Blindly, you reach behind you for his cock, hand wrapping tightly around the base as you pump him. Whispers something about returning the favor, about making him feel good, but Namjoon’s focus went to shit hours ago. Nothing exists in this moment—in this room, perhaps in his entire world—except you.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, situating himself against the headboard. Even though you’re inches apart, he can feel the heat emanating from your cunt and his cock twitches, seeking your warmth. “We’ve gotten a bit sidetracked. I believe you promised to ride me until I came.”

You grip him again, aligning his length with your center. The head of his cock teases against wet folds and he moans, earning him another knowing smirk. “Beg me,” you say.

“What?”

Another roll of your hips, another fractured gasp. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

His brows furrow in annoyance. Says your name in a way that sounds like a slur. “This isn’t funny.”

You lean down, hair draping your face. “Who’s laughing?” you ask before you lick a long stripe up his neck that causes goosebumps to erupt all over his body. “Beg me.”

“Please,” he breathes, the word sounding more familiar than he ever thought it could. “Baby, please, I—I fucking need you so much.”

“Do you?” you tease, fingertips tracing the ridges of his muscles.

Namjoon grabs your chin, forces you to look at him. “Stop teasing me and ride my fucking cock.”

Eyes go wide, pupils dilated at his dominance, the flaring of your nostrils giving away exactly what you think of it. But you smile all the same and sink down on him agonizingly slowly, take the first inch when you say, “As you order, sir,” sardonically.

You feel like heaven.

He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to it—not sure he’d even want to. Being able to experience you over and over, every time feeling like it’s the first… Namjoon isn’t a religious man, but having the privilege of having you so intimately is the closest he’ll ever get to seeing god.

“Fuck,” he moans.

Blinding, wet heat surrounds him as you take all of his cock. Don’t bother taking any time to adjust, just start moving immediately. His eyes roll back in time with the roll of your hips, back and forth the way you rode his thigh. One hand on your hip to brace you, the other palms at your breast, rolls your nipple between his fingers. The moan that escapes you is borderline pornographic. Lust overtakes him, primal and raw, and he moves his hand to join his other at your hips, holding you in place as he thrusts into you roughly.

“A masterpiece,” he praises. “You look so fucking beautiful bouncing on my cock. I’ll never get tired of watching you.”

He’s determined to make this as good for you as it is for him, determined to redeem his first performance. Tries to focus on anything he can besides the sharp slap of your skin meeting, the way your body clamps around him like a vice. But you love to torture him, don’t you, because you’re just as determined to put on a show. You toss your hair back, preen under his watch. You’re an absolute goddess, the most beautiful thing Namjoon has ever seen in his entire life. Perhaps stronger than his determination to make this good for you is his determination to keep you.

He’s a jealous man. He knows this about himself, has had plenty of time to make peace with it. And he knew from the second he laid eyes on you that he didn’t want to share with anyone else, knew he didn’t have the right, but now he thinks the thought alone might kill him.

So, he rolls you over, pins you beneath him so he can fuck you exactly the way he wants. “What are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raised as you study him.

Proving something to you, he wants to say. Wants to be the best you’ll ever have, ruin every other partner for you. Wants so many things his head is swimming, and as he pushes into your tight, wet heat again, he wonders if he’ll be okay if this is the only one he ever gets.

His pace is slow, sensuous. “Fucking you,” he finally replies. “That alright?”

A loud moan as he adjusts the angle. “More than alright.”

He keeps on like this until he feels himself start to unravel. Starts in his toes, moves to his stomach where it branches out, warm and enveloping. Still, he stays even-keeled despite everything in his body screaming for more. Yours, too—the curling of your toes, your nails digging into his back, pulling at his hair. Your coarse, ragged breaths as you ask for more, more, always more.

“You feel so fucking good,” he growls into your neck. “Incredible, baby. Touch yourself for me. Make yourself come on my cock.”

You moan again. “Why? Can’t get me off yourself?” you tease, but it’s short-lived as he finally increases his pace, slamming into you hard before you can utter another word.

“You were saying?”

He expects another snappy reply, your smile catching him off-guard as he looks down at you. You’re touching yourself just like he’d said to, fingers working at your clit in slow, lazy circles. Another growl as he drinks in the sight of you.

“You like watching me, don’t you?” Namjoon nods. “Then tell me: how do I look?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, knows he’s not going to be able to hold off the longer he stares. “Like perfection.” You seem to whimper at his words. Just another sound he commits to memory.

A few more thrusts before his movements become erratic. He can feel how close you are, wills himself the strength to hold on just a minute longer—plans that are immediately forgotten as he feels your orgasm hit you, your walls clamping around him so tight his vision goes black.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” you cry out. Namjoon nuzzles into your neck as he follows you over the edge, coming so hard he can’t remember his own name.

Minutes—maybe hours, maybe even days—pass between the two of you, not a sound to be heard except jagged, labored breathing. Once he regains some semblance of consciousness, Namjoon pulls back enough to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

“You’re going to be my undoing, baby.”

His memory’s not so great, but Namjoon thinks he properly falls for you the tenth time you meet up.

It’d been nearing eleven-o’clock on a Tuesday night, thunder rumbling off in the distance, when you texted to ask if you could come by, which had been out of the ordinary. The two of you never met during the work week—a rule you had never clearly stated but one Namjoon had quickly picked up on nonetheless—so he hadn’t known what to expect when you knocked on his door.

“Bad day,” was all you’d said as you shrugged off your coat and pressed a hungry kiss to his mouth.

He’d wanted to ask why. Wanted to know what’d happened, but it wasn’t his business, your relationship not like that. You’d come over for sex, not for him to play therapist. Namjoon knew this, but as he pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side and pressed his mouth to you, he also knew your heart wasn’t completely in it, so he’d told you to make yourself comfortable in his bed while he made some tea. (He hadn’t bothered to mention he’d picked up your favorite brand while out shopping the weekend before, of course, because that would’ve been weird. It would’ve implied things. So, he’d simply fixed your tea and ignored your questioning stare when you took a cautious sip and hoped you knew he cared about you beyond the little arrangement the two of you had found yourselves in.)

(He hadn’t bothered to tell you that, either, of course.)

But the mind is a traitorous thing. As much as he’d wanted to stay logical, his brain and heart teamed up to conspire against him, to wonder and hope for things that couldn’t possibly have been true. Because, as he fell asleep wrapped around you, he’d found comfort in knowing you’d had a bad day and came to him.

Somewhere along the line, things had shifted. The two of you started laughing together, forming little inside jokes. Started texting about things beyond “your place or mine?” You became softer. Not any more available, at least emotionally, but you’d seemed to relax in his presence. Let down a wall or two.

And it’s been downhill ever since, really.

Your meetings have grown more difficult. Feelings had become involved months ago, and Namjoon comes close to admitting them out loud nearly every time you’re together. Sometimes, on Fridays, he lies and says he has to work late; on Saturdays, he has to “take an emergency weekend appointment” or “make a trip back home” to visit his parents for pretend birthdays and anniversary parties. He knows the two of you have an expiration date and he does what he can to prolong it, even when it’s dishonest.

Until, eventually, he can’t anymore.

Until he’s finally out of lies and agrees to meet you at the club, where he has one too many drinks to hide how stupidly smitten with you he is; too many drinks to forget that you don’t feel the same.

Until he’s so drunk he can barely stand and you offer to split a cab with him back to his place to make sure he doesn’t pass out and choke on his own vomit and he declines.

Until you tell him to stop being so goddamn stubborn because you’re just trying to help, you’ve seen him this fucked up before and it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, he’s too drunk for you to feel okay sending him home alone.

Until he tells you no, he isn’t embarrassed, he just can’t be around you any longer because he’s fallen for you and you don’t feel the same and he can’t keep hurting himself by trying to keep you.

Until everything comes tumbling out of his mouth and he thinks he feels the world tilt.

Then, you don’t say anything and just stare at him with a slack jaw and a mildly displeased expression as he calls Hoseok and slurs all his words when he asks him to come pick him up.

Then, he convinces himself you only looked that way because someone like you isn’t used to being rejected, that’s it, nothing more.

Then, Hoseok shows up and Namjoon doesn’t bother to look back as he leaves, missing the tears well up in your eyes.

When he wakes up on Sunday afternoon with a mind-splitting hangover, he remembers just enough of the night before to marinate in his self-loathing. He’d fucked up a good thing. Sure, you and him hadn’t put a label on whatever the two of you were, never bothered to define it, but you didn’t really have to. The no feelings part of the contract had been implicitly stated from the beginning, highlighted in neon yellow and underlined for added emphasis.

But there’s relief, too. He’d told the truth, was hurting himself to keep you, and now it’s over. He doesn’t have to worry about the unknowns anymore—what (or who) you’re doing and how you feel about him.

Because weeks of radio silence go by, so that tells him everything he needs to know. He knew you wouldn’t chase him so he’s not disappointed, but he’d allowed himself a strand or two of hope nonetheless that still feel crushing at times. Mostly on Friday evenings after he showers off his day and climbs into an empty bed, just wanting to hear his phone chime with a text from you asking to get together. Those strands of hope feel worse when he falls asleep alone, no unread texts except some stupid memes from Jungkook he doesn’t understand.

It doesn’t help that Hoseok’s properly seeing Jimin now, so he can’t fully escape you. Still hears bits and bobs about you and what you’re up to, still sees you in the background of Hoseok’s Instagram posts from parties Namjoon declines to attend.

He doesn’t know how long it’s supposed to take to get over a fling, but he can’t help but feel it’s taking an awfully long time.

Another month goes by. Nearly five since the first time you two had met. Namjoon starts to feel normal again; stops waiting for texts that never come and stops avoiding Hoseok because there’s only one thing he wants to talk about, and Namjoon hasn’t quite been in the right place to hear it. But he figures another four weeks have done him some good so he agrees to meet him at their favorite restaurant and they drink until they’re tipsy.

He doesn’t ask about you and Hoseok doesn’t mention a word, just says things are going well with Jimin and he’s planning on making it official soon. Namjoon doesn’t have to fake his enthusiasm and it feels nice. Normal. He doesn’t even make a thinly-veiled threat when the check comes and he sees Hoseok’s back to his old tricks, ordering all the most expensive items on the menu when it’s Namjoon’s turn to pay, just hands his credit card to the server.

It’s another four days when someone knocks on his door at nearly ten-thirty at night. There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach that tells him exactly who’s on the other side before he can pull the door open.

“Oh,” he breathes, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice even though seeing you is anything but.

It bothers him how affected by you he still is, how you’re still able to take his breath away despite not seeing you for months. And you’re still stunning, of course, so it makes sense he’d still go dizzy at the sight of you. “What are you doing here?” he asks.

Cautious eyes stare up at him as you swallow. “Can I come in?”

He fidgets, weight shifting from side to side. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Braces himself for a quip that doesn’t come. Instead, you shrug and avert your eyes, staring blankly at the wall outside his door. “No, probably not,” you admit. Your tone is quiet, almost soft. That signature smug look is nowhere to be found, and months ago Namjoon would’ve loved this, would’ve delighted at seeing you so vulnerable, but now it just feels all wrong.

He coughs to clear his throat. “Did you, uh—is there something I can do for you?”

“I came to apologize,” you say, though it almost comes out more like a question. “I should’ve called sooner.”

Namjoon blinks. Of all the things he anticipated coming out of your mouth, an apology wasn’t one of them. “Oh. Well, you have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one who—” Ended things, his brain finishes, but he can’t bring himself to say the words. The two of you were only fucking, and ‘ending things’ makes it sound like more than what it was.

“Right,” you agree, though he can tell you don’t want to. “Okay. Well, I guess I’ll just…”

Unsure of what else to do, Namjoon simply nods. His fingers are digging into the door frame so hard they’ve started to turn white, and it’s all he can do to hide how badly they’re shaking. He’s anxious. Why is he so anxious? It only gets worse as he watches you exhale a steadying breath and turn on your heel, not bothering to look back at him.

His brain is screaming at him to go after you. After all, hadn’t he just spent months wishing for this exact thing to happen? But that kind of thing is only meant to happen in movies to people who are in love, and after all this time, he still hasn’t got a clue of where he stands with you. Showing up at his place unannounced should mean something, but you hadn’t pushed when he declined to invite you in, so he figures it was simply for a belated goodbye fuck. But…

“Hey!” he yells down the hallway. There’s relief when you pause and turn around, even though you stay where you are, don’t come closer, but that’s okay—you don’t need to. “Why did you really come here?”

A slow, neutral smile graces your lips. Not sad, but not happy, either. “Guess I figured things out a little late.”

Namjoon’s brows knit together, feels the crease between them. “What, that you miss fucking me?” He doesn’t mean for it to sound so brash and crude, but he supposes it needs to be said regardless. If any of his neighbors happen to overhear him say it, well, he also supposes they would’ve heard everything that came before, too.

“Of course I miss fucking you,” you reply, not bothering to lower your voice at all, “but I think I miss everything else a little more.”

“Everything else?”

“You bought my favorite tea,” you shrug. “And let me in when I had a bad day.”

He still doesn’t understand. “You told me you didn’t like me,” he says. “I wasn’t aware that’d changed.”

“Because I hadn’t told you.”

“And that’s why you’re here now? To tell me… what, exactly? That you don’t dislike me anymore?”

You seem unable to help yourself as you snort. Take a few steps closer until the two of you are nearly touching. “I came to ask if you’d like to go to dinner with me.”

“Right now?” he asks, clearly confused. “It’s nearly eleven-o’clock. I don’t think anywhere worth going is still open.”

“Well, if all else fails,” you quip, that smug grin brilliant as it returns, “we can always order in a pizza.”

Consequences be damned, Namjoon grabs the back of your neck and pulls your lips to his own, desperate to feel his mouth against yours again. Feels nostalgic at the taste of you, the feel—smiles against your lips when it’s all the same as he remembers. Familiar, like coming home. Revels in the way his heart nearly bursts out of his chest when you smile back.

You kiss for what feels like hours. Until you’re both weak in the knees and breathless, breaking apart only to gaze at one another stupidly and punch-drunk.

Namjoon presses a final kiss to the top of your head as he lifts you, not bothering to hide the megawatt smile on his face when you wrap your legs around his waist. “Pizza sounds good.”

“Let’s get a large sausage this time,” you offer, giggling into his neck.

It sounds like the best idea Namjoon has ever heard.

Thank you for reading! My inbox is always open if you’d like to leave feedback. I’d love to hear your thoughts! ❤

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Things I Noticed While Writing Light The Fuse: Part 11, Episode 4

This one may be just about one Phoenix but finally I get to show Ethan some love hehe 🥰💛

Before we get to him though, a clock! An actual, working clock! The rare showing of time that helps me figure out how long this show is actually going for!

Here it is, my Timeline. The furthest it goes is the 23rd, and he would be checking more pages if it went further to see if she was/had been there, so I placed Cop Night on July 23rd with this scene taking place the next morning on the 24th, therefore Ethan starts dating Matty and Johnson on July 23rd to go along with Matty and Johnson's anniversary on July 1st in Fucked / Up ❤️💛💙

Going off this single date I ended up having the fic start on June 7th with Ethan arriving on the 8th by the end of my figurings, and I have a column in my notes just for dates based on what everyone says, their runs, and outfit changes, all thanks to this single crumb. And now we have all three of their Phoenixversaries, Johnson on February 2nd (with his bday), Ethan on June 8th, and Matty exactly two months later on August 8th~

This still isn't Ethan but this scene will forever haunt me WHY IS HELL ITSELF AT THIS MOTEL???

Okay now it's Ethan Time, because this scene makes me insane for a different reason. Him saying later that he literally just trusted her through everything really confirms that Ethan is a canon dumbass, like dude you can still trust her but you had to have some idea! This is why I made him so aware of what's going on that he held info away from her as well. I really loved writing this scene, I love writing all their scenes, him constantly trying to cut ties with her and failing each time she calls because of their bond is so important to me with all the angst possibilities

Like this right here, with that smile of hers knowing that he will, and him doing it. Add in the fact that he also knows he will even when he's catching on that she's not the Doris he knew anymore, I love that so much and I'm so glad I got to write it all out amidst him hanging up on her after making her panic that Burt already got to him before he namedrops Matty for the first time

Also Ethan having this convo directly next to a Pinup room when he's trying to be stealthy is so funny to me

That's because you just spoke to your adoptive mom after gaining not one but two boyfriends, of course you're feeling weird. Also since when does Ethan wear a black undershirt, that's Matty's! I'm insane!!

Comfy??? My man's all spread out, ditched the coat, he is there to stay

Matty: You heard it pays?

Ethan is so bad at lying how has Matty taught him nothing by now it should be a second language by this point

You're killin' it man she totally believes you

Meredith is so cute here, I love her genuine shock that he'd really think she'd take one of them, I wonder how many actual conversations she has in this place outside of Joel (for the most part) and Matty and her friend Tina

Ethan is so cute I love his smile so much 🥰🥰🥰

The fact that he hasn't had this talk with Johnson in canon is so weird to me, he's around him so often that I bet he'd talk about it with Matty there, I don't doubt that cause I'm obviously upping his mystery in my own way since I don't know what his actual deal is. It makes for a nice bonding scene with Meredith, but they really underutilized Johnson also being around for so long so many times which is just criminal honestly

I really wonder if she was ever able to talk about this, since it was such a big thing, a war so bad Joel's even afraid of it and she was just a child during it. I really never shipped them even before my eyes were opened to the Phoenixes being boyfriends, so them having this conversation as friends is so important to me. It's a romance that doesn't need to happen for them to stay close, just like she is with Matty, and I can only pray they stayed this way in season 2.

Their friendship is everything to me. At its basis, these are two people who need friends more than anything, people to listen and be there for them as they come to see that they're already home, if season 2 had come out and had them suddenly start making out sloppy style it might've actually made me upset and that's no joke

Episode 4 down, I can tell already that ep5 is gunna need several posts but I am so ready to talk about it hehe 💛