#nothing really makes it better either sigh

[theemporium]

a luke blurb where him and his gf don't show much pda but quin and jack accidentally walk in on them making out? i feel like it would be really funny

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

You and Luke were never big on PDA. 

It wasn’t a conscious choice either of you really made. Truth being told, you never really noticed how ‘un-coupley’ the two of you acted until a friend had pointed it out to you somewhere in the first few weeks of college when they were shocked to learn that you and Luke were a couple. 

But it never bothered you. It wasn’t a big surprise considering the evolution of your relationship with Luke was something that changed gradually over time. You had been attached by the hip since day one, each other’s best friend for as long as anyone could remember. You were always together, always found together, would always be together. There was no one in this world that you would consider your bestest friend over Luke Hughes.

It just so happened that somewhere between the years of high school, that friendship evolved into something a little less platonic. But he was still your best friend. He would always be your best friend before he was your boyfriend. Neither of you acted differently after you got together because nothing in the relationship had really changed after the two of you confessed that night, except for the fact you just happened to make out with him as much as you laughed at the stupid jokes he told.

So even though you and Luke had been together as a couple for the better part of six years, you never really acted like one in front of people. 

Which is why Jack and Quinn tended to be so dramatic whenever the two of you did anything remotely coupley. 

“Did you put sunscreen on today?�� 

Luke paused, pulling back and slowly blinking his eyes open to look at you with an incredulous look. “Why the hell are you thinking about sunscreen whilst making out with me?” 

“Because your skin feels really warm,” you retorted, unbothered by the way his lip jutted out with a small pout as you poked the reddening skin on his shoulder. The hiss he let out instantly made you snort. “Fucking knew it.”

“You were hogging the bottle,” Luke retorted, smacking your hand away when you tried to poke him again before it returned to its rightful place on your ass. 

“No, you were more focused on putting sunscreen on me to remember yourself,” you corrected with a smile.

“Yeah, well, you whine so much when you’re sunburnt,” Luke huffed, laughing a little when you lightly smacked his chest. “Kidding, babe, love you.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered as you leaned down, pressing your lips against his and letting out a content noise as he squeezed your ass, pulling you further onto his lap before he pushed his tongue into your mouth and—

“OH MY GOD, MY EYES! MY FUCKING EYES!” 

Luke let out a heavy sigh, his head falling against your shoulder as he grumbled under his breath. “Every fucking time.” 

“Gross, guys,” Quinn frowned at the sight of you two on the sunlounger whilst Jack dramatically continued to gag behind him. “So gross.” 

“What happened to the two of you doing a grocery run in the town?” You questioned, making no move to shift off your boyfriend’s lap, though his hands moved to rest on your waist now. 

“We did it and came back already to find you—” Jack paused, placing a hand on his chest as he shuddered. “Defiling the furniture.” 

“Drama queen,” Luke grumbled.

You snorted. “As if you didn’t do much worse three summers ago when I saw you and that girl on the boat—” 

Jack’s eyes widened. “LALALA! SHE DOESN’T KNOW WHAT SHE IS TALKING ABOUT!” 

Quinn whirled around to look at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck did you do on the boat?” 

Luke grinned, turning to look at you as his brothers continued to bicker in the background. “It’s kinda hot when you blackmail people.” 

You grinned back. “Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth. “Wanna show me how hot? Preferably in a room with a lock so we don’t have to repeat of the other day.” 

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Quinn should learn to knock. That is not our fault.”

.

[heartsforjh]

here’s the second part to this ask! i apologize for the wait! things have been kind of hectic lately!

main masterlist | tik tok series masterlist

You set up your phone camera on the kitchen counter, hiding it behind some junk that you should probably tidy up later. You know your boyfriend, Will, is about to take a shower while you cook dinner, so you’ve decided to pull a harmless little prank on him.

You saw a girl on TikTok respond with just a “thank you” when her husband told her he loved her, and his reaction was hilarious. Will is like an affectionate, innocent puppy of a boyfriend, and you have to get his reaction to you trying it.

When you hear his footsteps approaching, you quickly grab some pots, pretending to look busy. He comes around the corner and stands beside you, resting a hand on your waist.

“Hey. What are you doing?” he asks, looking down at you.

You flash him a simple smile. “Hi, babe. I’m about to make dinner.”

“Alright. While you do that, I���m just gonna shower real quick,” he says, gently rubbing your back.

You nod. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll be right back. I love you,” his hand gently guides your face towards his, pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

You return your attention back to the dinner you’re making. “Okay, great. Thank you!”

Silence.

He doesn’t move a muscle. He just stands there, waiting. You put on your most innocent face and glance up at him, acting clueless.

“Okay, yeah. I love you,” he repeats, as naturally as possible.

You nod and give him yet another smile. “Thank you!”

That’s when his brows knit together, a deep frown forming on his face. He must have realized he looks too harsh, because he tries to soften his expression. However, he just ends up looking concerned—and concerning—at the same time.

“Yeah… are you- are you gonna respond to me though?” he asks in the sweetest voice, which almost makes you feel bad.

You look down for a moment, as you struggle to hold back a grin. “What do you mean? I said thank you.”

“I know. But, that’s thank you. I said I love you. You didn’t say I love you,” he explains, trying his best to be patient. There’s worry—and maybe slight panic—written all over his face.

You shrug your shoulders, trying to seem unbothered. “Yeah.”

“What? What do you mean?” His voice cracks.

It’s really getting to him now. It’s past the point of odd, and he’s definitely noticed something’s up.

You sigh, dramatically. “By ‘yeah’? I mean, it’s a word that’s typically used for confirmation. I can’t believe you don’t know what that—”

“Baby, no,” his tone becomes desperate as he places his hands on either side of your hips, turning you to face him. “Can you please do it right?”

“Do what right?” you ask, giving your best oblivious act.

Will looks at you, his eyes soft and pleasing. “I love you. I love you, okay? Are you mad at me? We can talk about whatever it is.”

“Uhhh… okay, fine. I’m joking! It’s a little prank,” you admit with a laugh, giving into his pouting.

His head falls back, and he lets out a deep groan. “Baaaabe!”

“I’m sorry! I wanted to see what you’d do!” you say, smiling as you move closer to him.

He looks back at you, and immediately pulls you into a tight hug. “You scared me! I thought you were upset.”

“No, no, nothing’s wrong. Just wanted to mess with you,” you wrap your arms around his neck.

He shakes his head, playfully acting exhausted. “You’re crazy, but I love you.”

“Thanks,” you joke, not wanting to pass up the opportunity.

His face immediately drops. “Babe… too soon.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You can go take your shower now,” you say, but he doesn’t budge. “I love you.”

He sighs in relief, then kisses the crown of your head. “That’s better, baby.”

You look up and give him a proper kiss, making sure he really knows how you feel about him. He peppers your face with kisses in return—a good sign. He lingers for a while after that, watching you make dinner and talking to you, until you finally convince him that all will be okay if he leaves for a few minutes to take his shower.

tags: @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @azure-dawn81 @joesnumerouno @macklin-celebrini-71 @randomcuboidshape

join the taglist here! :)

[justarkive]

TABLE 3 | JJK ch 3

“For good service, and cute waitresses”

pairing: premilitary!jk x secret fuckbuddy! oc

contents: mild language, no smut (yet), fluff, humour, celeb au, very mild angst, slowburn </3

wc: 6k

this fic is not meant to represent the real jungkook or any other characters mentioned!

taglist: if anyone wants to join pls comment!!

a/n: this fic is going so much better than id thought it would! i love it and cant wait to progress. Nari’s might also come across as mean, but know its in a best friend way and she truly does love oc. ENJOY MY LOVES <3 p.s, all interactions are much appreciated, pls dont be afraid to let me know what you think:)

masterlist | < previous | next >

You find yourself back at Nari’s apartment. These days, it’s the only place you feel like going to. Your own place feeling like a lost cause- clothes piling up, draped over your desk chair you could’ve sworn you cleaned up last week, dishes in the sink that you could’ve sworn you’d washed yesterday. Work has been exhausting, and when you’re not caught up in the bustle of the diner, you’re busy running errands and keeping up with side hobbies, using them as an excuse to avoid everything else.

At least at Nari’s, things feel a little less overwhelming, and it’s easier to forget everything else.

And Nari doesn’t mind, she’d never mind.

She’s in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine, her free hand lazily scrolling through her phone. Her TV hums in the background, playing some trashy reality show neither of you are actually watching. You’re curled up on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, fingers absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on the throw pillow in your lap.

You’ve been quiet for way too long, and though you are a quiet person by nature. It’s never been truly quiet with you around Nari.

And Nari notices. Of course she does.

It’s not past a second before she side eyes you over her glass, pausing mid scroll. “Alright” She says, pushing off the counter. “What’s going on with you?”

You blink up at her. “Huh?”

“You look like you just got caught committing a crime,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Spit it out.”

You shake your head quickly. “It’s nothing.”

Nari stares at you for a second longer, then sighs, putting her phone down on the counter. She’s walking over, the heels of her socks dragging slightly against the floor, and plops down next to you, pressing her shoulder against yours.

You hesitate, fingers tightening around the pillow. The words are there, right at the tip of your tongue, but saying them out loud makes it feel too real.

Nari doesn’t give you the chance to stall any longer. She sets her phone down and walks over, plopping down on the couch next to you. “You’ve been sitting there looking like you’re about to have a breakdown for the past twenty minutes,” she says. “Either you tell me what’s going on, or I start guessing, and you know I have no filter.”

You exhale sharply. “It’s not that serious.”

Nari just stares. “Yeah, okay. So why do you look like you’re about to throw up?”

You press your lips together, debating whether you should even bring it up. It’s stupid. It really is. But the anxiety has been eating away at you since he did it, and if anyone’s going to tell you if you’re being ridiculous, it’s Nari.

You reach into the pocket of your hoodie and pull out a small, crumpled piece of paper. For a second, you just hold it between your fingers, staring at it like it as if that would make it disappear. Then, finally, you place it on the coffee table between you and Nari.

She frowns. “What’s that?”

You swallow. “Jungkook left me his number.”

There’s a beat of silence. Nari blinks. Then she blinks again, leaning forward to get a better look at the paper, like she needs to confirm that you’re not messing with her.

“Wait—Jungkook?”

You nod, heart hammering against your ribs.

“As in the Jungkook?” You nod again, looking at her as if to say: yeah Nari, who else?

Nari lets out a sharp breath, eyes darting between you and the paper. “And you’re telling me this now?” She takes the paper from your hand “Saturday?! Seriously? It’s been 2 days and you’re only telling me now?” She whines, smacking your arm lightly.

You shrug, biting your lip, not trusting yourself to say anything.

Nari stares at you like you’ve lost your mind. “And what exactly is the problem here? Did you text him? Has he shown up to the diner again?”

You bite your lip. “What if it’s a joke?”

Her expression drops into something unimpressed. “What?”

“What if I actually message him, and he laughs in my face? What if this is just some silly game?” You cross your arms, shifting uncomfortably. “Imagine I actually text him, and it turns out he just left it to mess with me.”

Nari looks at you like you just suggested jumping into oncoming traffic for fun. “Are you stupid?”

You blink. “Yes! What- No. Ugh! I dont know?”

“Why the hell would he give you a fake number? Celebrities don’t just do that.” She picks up the paper, waving it in your face. “And Jungkook? He doesn’t seem like the type to waste his time playing games.”

“But—”

“But nothing,” she cuts you off. “I saw the way he was looking at you. That man is not out here giving his number to random women for fun.” She shakes her head. “And even if it was a joke���which it isn’t—you’d at least know. Right now, you’re just sitting here torturing yourself over something you haven’t even done yet.”

You press your lips together, stomach flipping. “I don’t know, Nari.”

“I do know.” She leans back against the couch, arms crossed. “And at the very least, now you can get a heads-up before he randomly shows up again and you dont have to shit your pants every time he does.”

You let out a laugh, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “Yeah, but you saw what happened last time…”

Nari rolls her eyes. “Listen I get that- Crazy fans and shit? Not it, but you could be missing out on something big here.” She shrugs, taking a slow sip of her wine, like this isn’t making your entire brain short-circuit. “Worst case scenario? He doesn’t respond. Best case scenario? Well.” She smirks. “I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”

You stare at the number again, nerves buzzing under your skin.

Fuck it.

Your fingers twitch as you pick up your phone, opening your messages. You hesitate, heart in your throat.

The phone sits between you and Nari on the couch, untouched. You haven’t stopped staring at it since she made you unlock it, since she made you pull up Jungkook’s number and prove to her that it’s really there. His name isn’t saved, obviously—you’re not that delusional—but it’s there. Sitting at the top of your recents, right where you left it.

And you hate that it’s there.

Nari sighs. “Alright, I literally can’t take another second of this. Either you text him, or I’m throwing your phone out the fucking window.”

Your body jerks up immediately. “I can’t text him.”

She looks at you like you’ve personally offended her. “Yes, you can.”

“No, I actually can’t.” You grab a pillow and shove your face into it. “You do it.”

A scoff. “What? No.”

“Nari, please.” Your voice is muffled, desperate. “I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.”

“You literally will,” she deadpans. “Probably within the next hour.”

“I’m serious.” You peek at her from over the pillow. “Please, just send the first message.”

“You’re being ridiculous. He wouldn’t have given you his number if he didn’t want you to use it.”

“Or maybe he gave it to me as a joke.”

She groans, standing up and dragging a hand down her face. “Oh my fucking God. What is wrong with you?”

“If I message him, and he laughs at me, I’m never leaving this apartment again.”

She rolls her eyes, dropping back onto the couch beside you. “Yeah, because Jungkook has nothing better to do than sit around and make fun of random girls.”

“Exactly.”

Nari grabs your arm, shaking you. “You’re so stupid.”

You let out a strangled sound as she shakes harder, knocking you against the couch cushions. “Nari, stop—”

“No, because you’re actually so stupid. I saw the way he was looking at you.”

You groan extra loud.

Nari shoves you again, this time hard enough that you almost fall sideways. “You are so dramatic.”

“Okay, then you message him,” you whine, turning back to her with wide, pleading eyes. “Please. Just send one text, and then I’ll take over.”

She groans, leaning her head back against the couch. “Fine. But I’m not doing ‘Hi, this is YN.’ That’s lame.”

You nod immediately. “Yeah, no, that’s boring.”

She thinks for a second, then smirks. “What if we go with, ‘Hey, soldier, miss me?’”

You push her. “Stop.”

Nari just laughs. “Or, ooh!—‘I heard boys like you love discipline, so I waited a respectable amount of time before texting. 😉’”

“Im deleting his number.”

“You love me.”

“I don’t.”

She hums, tapping your phone screen. “Okay, what about this: ‘I promise I’m not a stalker, but I did just spend the past two days debating if this was actually your number.’”

You hesitate. “…Okay- Yeah, that’s actually kinda good.”

“Duh.” She types it out and, before you can stop her, presses send.

Your stomach drops. “Nari, what the fuck.”

She throws the phone onto your lap with a smug grin. “Too late.”

You gape at the screen, heart pounding as the message sits there. And keeps sitting there.

Jungkook doesn’t reply immediately.

Which—of course he doesn’t. He’s busy. He’s literally Jungkook. He’s probably off training or singing or whatever idols do in their free time.

Still.

You groan, throwing your head back. “This was a mistake.”

Beside you, Nari pats your head like a disapproving mother. “No, I made a mistake. I should’ve sent, ‘Hey, kookie~, miss me?’”

You nudge her away. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You kind of do. But now, you’re stuck waiting for a reply.

And it’s already driving you insane.

—

Hours pass.

You and Nari don’t do much of anything—just exist in the same space, like always. The TV plays some random drama you’ve both seen a hundred times before, voices droning on in the background while you scroll through your phone and Nari flips through a magazine she doesn’t actually care about. The comfort of it is familiar, easy. This is why you come here. Why her apartment is the only place you really want to be these days.

But none of it stops your eyes from flicking back to your phone every two minutes.

Still nothing.

Nari notices. Of course, she does.

“Y/n.” She doesn’t even look up from her magazine. “Get it the fuck together.”

You huff. “I am together.”

“No, you’re not.” She turns a page, unimpressed. “You look like you’re waiting for an organ transplant.”

You make a face, shifting to sit on your hands so you physically can’t reach for your phone again. “I just—I don’t get why he hasn’t replied yet.”

“Because he’s Jungkook?” Nari deadpans. “You know, worldwide superstar, busy man, famous guy? Maybe, just maybe, he has other shit to do?”

You grumble, kicking at her leg. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what do you mean?”

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “What if he’s ignoring me?”

Nari groans. “Oh my God. I literally cannot do this with you right now.” She tosses the magazine onto the coffee table and sits up, jabbing a finger at you. “This is what we’re not gonna do, okay? We’re not gonna sit here and spiral. We’re not gonna create insane scenarios in our head. And we’re definitely not gonna act like Jungkook is some high school jock plotting to humiliate you in front of the whole cafeteria.”

You glare at her. “That was a very specific example.”

She shrugs. “I read a lot of Wattpad in my youth.”

“As you should.”

“Anyway.” She leans back, stretching her arms over her head. “Since you clearly can’t function like a normal person right now, I’m declaring a ban on all Jungkook-related thoughts for the next few hours.”

“You can’t ban thoughts.”

“I can in this household.”

You roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. Mostly because she’s right—this whole thing is driving you insane, and if you don’t stop obsessing over it, you’re going to lose your mind before Jungkook even gets a chance to reply.

So, you let it go. Or at least, you try to.

The night continues as it always does. You and Nari switch to watching trashy reality TV, taking turns talking shit about people you don’t know. You fight over the last slice of pizza, which Nari wins, but only because she threatens to lock you out of the apartment. You don’t think she’d actually do it, but you’re not willing to take the risk.

Time slips by unnoticed, and before you know it, the sky outside the window has darkened completely.

“You sleeping over?” Nari asks, stretching her legs across the couch.

You blink at her like she’s just asked something stupid. “Of course, I am. What do you think?”

She smirks. “Good. I was gonna make you stay even if you said no.”

You laugh, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, flipping you off in the process.

And then—your phone buzzes.

Your whole body goes still.

Nari notices immediately, eyes snapping to your phone, and then to you.

“Oh my god,” she says slowly. “Tell me that’s who I think it is.”

You don’t answer. Just stare at the screen like it might disappear if you blink.

Another buzz.

Nari lunges forward, but you snatch the phone before she can grab it. Your hands are shaking.

She bounces impatiently beside you. “Well? Open it!”

Swallowing thickly, you finally unlock the screen.

[ iMessage:]

Unknown Number: Took you long enough.

Unknown Number: Was starting to think you weren’t interested.

You just stare. Your stomach does a weird little flip, your heart picking up speed.

Nari, practically vibrating beside you, grabs your arm. “WHAT DOES IT SAY!?”

You lift your head slowly, meeting her gaze with wide, horrified eyes.

“He’s flirting with me-“

Nari screams.

And just like that, everything is chaos again.

Your brain short-circuits.

Your hands tighten around your phone, fingers pressing into the edges like you’re afraid it might jump out of your grasp. Your breathing is uneven, and you’re pretty sure your heart is going to give out right here, on Nari’s couch, before you even get the chance to respond.

Nari grabs your wrist, shaking you violently. “WHAT THE FUCK?! REPLY.”

“I CAN’T.” You clutch the phone to your chest like it’s some kind of secret government file, eyes blown wide in panic. “OH MY GOD, WHAT DO I EVEN SAY?”

Nari looks at you like you’ve just spoken in an ancient language. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN, WHAT DO YOU SAY? YOU SAY SOMETHING BACK. LITERALLY ANYTHING.”

“No, no, no, I—” You shake your head frantically, scrambling up onto your knees as if somehow getting higher up will help you think better. “If I reply too fast, it’s gonna look desperate.”

Nari throws her hands up. “Desperate for what? A conversation? Bitch, this is not high school! We are adults. We do not play fucking mind games over text like we’re waiting for our crush to message us back like we’re 15!”

You press your palms over your face, groaning into them. “Oh my God, what if this is a joke? What if he’s messing with me? What if—”

“WHAT IF HE’S NOT?” Nari yells, shoving at your shoulder. “What if he actually fucking likes you, you absolute dumbass?”

You glare at her, shoving her back. “DON’T CALL ME A DUMBASS, I’M HAVING A CRISIS.”

“IT’S A STUPID CRISIS.”

The two of you wrestle on the couch for a second, limbs flying, before she overpowers you and shoves you back into the cushions. You huff, staring up at the ceiling, trying to steady your heartbeat.

A few deep breaths. Then another. Okay. You’re fine. You’re cool.

You roll your head to the side, looking at Nari. “What do I say?”

She stares at you, completely done. “You say, ‘Hey, this is me responding to your text message.’”

You groan, throwing an arm over your face. “Be serious.”

“I am being serious.” She snatches your phone right out of your grip, dodging your grabby hands as she holds it above her head. “Look. You’re overthinking. You don’t have to send an essay, just flirt back.”

You peek at her through your arm. “How?”

“Oh my God.” She sighs dramatically, shifting so she’s sitting on her knees beside you. “Okay, let’s workshop this. He said, ‘Took you long enough. Was starting to think you weren’t interested.’” She pauses. “Ooh, that’s kinda sexy.”

“SHUT UP.”

“I’m just saying.”

You groan again, kicking your legs in frustration. “I hate this. Why am I like this? I should just block him.”

Nari slaps your thigh so hard you yelp.

“YOU WILL DO NO SUCH THING.”

You whimper. “Fine. Just—help me.”

She grins, shuffling closer. “Okay. So, we’re going for playful, yeah? Something that keeps the same energy.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Like, oh? You were waiting for me? That’s kinda cute.”

Your entire body recoils. “EW, no, that sounds so corny.”

She cackles. “Okay, okay. What about, ‘Oh, were you hoping I’d text first? That’s adorable.’”

You blink. “Ugh why are you so good at this?”

“I know.” She flips her hair dramatically. “I am the queen of texting.”

You shake your head, snatching your phone back. “Fine. I’ll say something like that.”

“Good.” She pats your knee. “Now send it.”

Your thumbs hover over the keyboard. Your pulse pounds in your ears. You type the message. Delete it. Type it again. Delete it again. At this point, you’re just spamming letters on your keyboard.

“Nari,” you whisper.

She groans. “What now?”

“…Can you send it for me?”

“ABSOLUTELY NOT.”

You flinch at the volume of her voice. “But—”

“No buts.” She glares at you, unimpressed. “Send it. Now.”

You hesitate for one more agonizing second. And then, taking a deep breath, you hit send.

You both freeze, staring at the screen like it might explode.

The message sits there. Marked as delivered. Silent.

You toss your phone across the couch and bury your face in a pillow.

Nari gasps. “Bitch, what are you doing?”

“I CAN’T LOOK.”

“Oh my God.” She lunges for the phone. “What if he replies? What if he—”

Buzz.

Your whole body seizes up.

Nari screams.

You scream.

Neither of you move.

Buzz.

Another message.

You shoot up so fast your vision goes blurry, scrambling for your phone. Nari practically jumps onto your back, gripping your shoulders as she shrieks into your ear.

You unlock the screen, heart pounding, pulse hammering against your ribs. And then—

[ iMessage:]

Unknown number: Adorable? That’s a new one. You trying to flirt with me?

Your soul leaves your body.

Nari shrieks. “OH MY FUCKING GOD.”

You smack her. She smacks you back. You both devolve into incoherent screaming, kicking your legs and shaking each other like wild animals.

And somewhere in the chaos, it finally sinks in.

Jungkook is flirting back.

This is real.

What the fuck do you do now?

You’re still gripping your phone like it’s a lifeline, staring at Jungkook’s message like the words might rearrange themselves into something less terrifying.

Your brain is malfunctioning. Your hands are clammy. Your heart rate is somewhere near cardiac arrest levels.

“Nari,” you whisper, voice shaky. “What do I say?”

Nari, who has just spent the last five minutes screaming and shaking you like a maraca, suddenly changes tactics. She plops back against the couch, crossing her arms. “Nothing.”

You blink. “What?”

“Nothing,” she repeats, grabbing the remote and flipping through Netflix. “Let him wait.”

Your whole body jolts. “WAIT?”

“Yes.” She leans back smugly. “We’re watching a show. You’ll text him in the morning.”

You gape at her, horrified. “No. No, no, no, please—”

“Yes.”

“Nari, please!” You grab her arm, shaking her dramatically. “I will literally die. My soul will leave my body.”

“Okay, good,” she says, deadpan. “Then I’ll text Jungkook myself and tell him his little admirer died of thirst.”

You let out a strangled noise, throwing yourself back against the couch. “I hate you.”

“You love me.” She pats your knee like you’re a distressed child. “And you asked for my advice, so now you’re gonna take it. No texting until morning. Let him wonder.”

You stare at her, betrayed. “This is evil.”

She shrugs, putting on some random drama. “Welcome to the game, bitch.”

You sulk for a few more minutes, checking your phone every five seconds like a lovesick fool before Nari finally yanks it out of your hands and tosses it across the room.

“BED,” she orders, standing up. “Now.”

You groan but eventually drag yourself to your feet, trudging to her bedroom like a prisoner on death row. When you finally get under the covers, you let out a heavy sigh.

“This is torture.”

Nari snickers, turning off the light. “You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You highly doubt that.

—

The next morning, you wake up feeling… slightly less insane. Only slightly.

Nari is still dead to the world when you roll out of bed, stretching with a groan. You grab your phone off the nightstand and check your notifications.

No new messages from Jungkook.

You stare at the screen for a moment, heart sinking slightly. Not that you expected him to double-text you or anything, but still.

Shaking off the disappointment, you tiptoe out of Nari’s apartment and head home. It’s a busy day—you’ve got errands to run, places to be, things to do. You get caught up in it all for a while, hopping from one task to the next.

And then—

Buzz.

[ iMessage ]

Unknown number: So, am I getting a response, or did you decide flirting with me was a one-time thing?

[ghostgirl-22]

Can’t stop thinking about Patrick teaching Art how to jerk off and it evolving somewhere down the line into Patrick edging Art mercilessly. Art’s all whimpers and blushing up to his ears and needy whines arching up at the slightest bit of attention and Patrick’s just eating up every bit of it

You really cooked with this anon <3 (she says 100 years later)

CW: 18+ NSFW Explicit

—-

Patrick isn’t even sure how it happened. But somehow he got control over Art’s orgasm. Maybe all those late nights jerking off together, evolving into Patrick helping him. And then into Patrick literally helping him through it. And now it’s the only thing Art knows. Now the only way he can come is with help, with permission. On the phone when he can’t do it in person. All it takes is “Please Patrick, can you help me?” And the blood rushes immediately to Patrick’s dick.

It’s one of those nights. He does it in person.

Just landed in Palo Alto an hour ago, and Art’s already whimpering, scooting closer to Patrick, legs spread wide with Patrick settled between them, still fully clothed. Art in his boxers and a t-shirt, he’d been so eager, just waiting.

He’s seeking Patrick’s mouth for a kiss. For validation while Patrick jerks him roughly. He’s arching up, probably a handful of heavy strokes away from the end, and Patrick decides to take his time.

“It feels so much better when I do it, huh?” Patrick says softly in his ear. “You’ve been waiting for me all week.”

”Mmm,” Art moans, helplessly.

“I don’t understand it when you whine,” Patrick whispers. “And if i can’t understand you, i have to stop. Do you want me to stop?”

He loves to make art talk when he’s close. Loves it when he’s got Art’s pretty cock all lubed up, swollen purplepink and leaking, twitching, in his heated palm. Trying to make him talk like normal when he’s an absolute mess of a human, tongue tied and incoherent. Art, who’s usually so good with his words, so articulate, tone so crisp and clean. Stammering, stuttering for him. God it gets him so fucking hard.

“n—no,” Art whines. “Please. P-please.”

“aww i know… i know it’s hard to make that brain work right now but i don’t understand.” Patrick smiles, he’s slowing his movements watching as Art jerks his hips helplessly. “Please what? You’re so smart, can you use complete sentences for me?”

“Patrick,” Art whines. ”F-fuck.”

Patrick pulls his hands away and leans in, bracing himself on either side of the bed and bracketing Art’s hips. Art jerks upwards into nothing. Frustrated. Skin flushed all the way down his bare chest. Patrick cups his chin and art licks his lips and moves closer, lips parting automatically, searching for a kiss.

“thats not a complete sentence.” Patrick says, pulling back just before their lips touch.

“P-Please d-don’t stop.” Art stammers.

“see was that so hard?” Patrick gives him a kiss and is overwhelmed right away by art’s tongue. He’s all apart. Needy. Moaning into Patrick’s mouth while he’s kissing him. He sounds like a fucking whore. Patrick can feel his own cock pulsing.

“Holy shit,” Patrick breathes against his lips. “you’d probably do anything for me right now, huh?”

Art nods, mouth still open, tongue darting across his wet lips, pupils blown wide. Patrick pushes him down so he’s flat on his back and crawls up the length of his body.

“I wanna hear you.”

“Yes, please— Patrick please. I’ll d-do whatever you w-want.”

“You little slut,” Patrick walks his fingers up the length of his pretty cock. So much fucking pre-cum spilling out it’s like he’s already finished. “God, you need it so fucking bad, don’t you? can’t control yourself.”

“Mm need you.” Art whispers, arching into the barely there touches.

”Tell me you’re a slut,” Patrick sighs. “Tell me you’re a fucking slut.”

“Mm a— imma s-slut,” Art stammers. “Patrick. Wanna fucking come so bad. Imma fucking s-slut.”

Patrick presses himself up against Art’s bottom, knowing Art can feel it through his jeans. “Mm you feel what you fucking do to me. Hm? You feel how crazy you make me.”

Art’s got his eyes closed, breath catching. He’s grinding his hips and moaning. “F-fuck oh fuck, yes,” he whispers.

“Oh god. Look at me,” Patrick breathes, gripping onto Art’s dick properly. He knows it’s an impossible ask. Art’s mouth is all wet, he’s drooling, aching. Grinding his balls, his ass, along the friction of Patrick’s cock while Patrick slides his grip up and down the slippery length of his.

“Come on. I don’t want to stop but I need you to look at me when you go off sweetheart.” Patrick whispers.

Art’s eyes flutter open for just a minute. He’s breathless. Chest heaving. “Oh-oh— m-my god,” he stammers out riding the feeling… he’s so goddam close and he shuts his pretty eyes again. He’s shivering, pleading when Patrick pulls back, sitting up on his knees.

“‘m sorry, s-so sorry, s-sorry Patrick f-fucking please,” art whines.

Patrick undoes his zipper and slips his hand inside to soothe himself for just a minute. “Shit,” he whispers. “You make me crazy when you don’t listen. I said I need you to look at me.”

“yes, yes okay, P-Patrick please,” Art is still whining, hips stuttering, helpless, breathless. His eyes are wet now filling with tears. God he’s so fucking pretty, so fucking desperate. “I’m sorry.”

“You wanna come for me?”

“Y-yes, i want to s-so so much. ”

Patrick stares at him, runs his messy fingers through all of that thick golden hair, art follows the touch. Turning his cheek to rest on Patrick’s palm, to kiss his hand, his arm. Tongue kissing him, wet. Patrick realizes in a detached way that he’s shivering at the feel of it.

“Mm fuck. I think I wanna stretch your little virgin ass,” Patrick whispers, not sure what he’s saying. He knows he’s breaking. That even he can’t take much more of this. “I wanna split you in half and make you come on my big cock.”

“Mmm yes,” art moans. Still kissing all over Patrick’s hand.

Patrick takes his spit, lube, covered hand and pushes Art’s hair back off his forehead, crawling on top so he’s right up in Art’s face again. “I’m gonna let you come, okay? Say okay.”

“Okay,” Art breathes, pulling his knees up more and jerking his hips in another desperate attempt to seek friction.

”Good boy,” Patrick sighs and Art’s Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I need to see you. Keep your eyes right here. Say you will.”

”I will.”

“Good boy.”

Art swallows again.

Patrick grips Art’s cock again. Art seizes up right away. Struggling to keep eye contact as Patrick slides his palm up and down, slowly at first.

“Fuck,” Art whispers, a litany. Hips jerking. He starts pumping into the touch. Fucking into it more, and more. Faster and faster. Oh he’s beautiful. All blissed out and open wide. It takes no time at all before he’s spilling, sticky white heated liquid covering Patrick’s palm.

“Good, that’s it,” Patrick whispers. “Feels so much better huh?” The relief of it all over him as more and more pumps out. Patrick doesn’t let up at all, keeps gripping him, jerking him, as he slides his own dick out and rubs up against his ass, along the thin fabric of Art’s boxers.

“Fuck… one day I’m just gonna fucking… watch you fall apart on my cock.” Patrick groans, burying his face against Art’s throat, his nose buried in the soft delicious scent of his golden curls.

Art’’s trembling, moaning with the overstimulation of it. These pitchy whiny noises that just make Patrick come that much faster. “Oh fuck yes,” Patrick gasps collapsing on to his chest. He feels Art tangle his fingers into Patrick’s hair.

“You like it?” Patrick asks, minutes later, sated and warm against his bare chest.

“Mmhm,” Art hums lightly.

“Say thank you,” Patrick tries, knowing he doesn’t have much leverage to control him anymore.

“Mm,” Art considers it and Patrick smiles and presses a kiss to his pert little nipple.

“Say thank you and I’ll do it again before you go to sleep.”

”Thank you,” Art says softly. “Thank you so much.”

[fromdawntiltwilight]

Move close to me and hear what I say

Now it's time dance and time to pray

It's torture time my little child

So follow me into the night

Let me drag you down

Let me kiss your neck

Please don't be afraid I'll show

Things you won't forget

Bloodsucker ~ Paralyzed Age

I wasn't expecting this to need tws, but, uhm, I got carried away. So: verbal abuse, I guess? Mentions of violence. Assholes acting as such. Angst? Hurt and no comfort? Uhm.

"I'm not falling for it", she said. Sitting on the barren earth against a tree at the edge of the meadow where they camped, Dawn looked up towards Astarion. She could hear the others celebrating in the distance: the chatter, the music, the laughter.

She'd had her fair share of cheap wine that night: it would've been easy to use it as an excuse to say yes to the pale elf who was towering above her. Instead, she looked at him, her lips pursed and her chin up.

Astarion laughed at her response. A dry chuckle that couldn't reach his crimson eyes. "Falling for what? My offer is quite simple and honest, darling. Here", he said. He reached for her hand and she let him place it on top of his exposed chest. She blushed and averted her gaze. "I swear it on my dead, little heart." He leaned against the tree, still towering above her, yet close enough that she could hear him whisper. "I want you." A purr echoing in her mind and choking her dry throat.

She swallowed and let out a soft breath. It could have been easy to pretend, to let him get away with it. Maybe, if she deluded herself hard enough, she could close her eyes and pretend that he really loved her. But it wouldn't do either of them any good.

"You don't want me", she retaliated instead, retracting her hand. Astarion blinked, his smile faltering. "And I don't...", she stumbled upon her words and had to look away. "Fuck for fun", she spat out. She forced herself up, still dizzy from the wine and thankful for the rough bark of the tree against her back, grounding her. She was now standing as tall as him.

Their eyes met again and she could see a vulnerability behind his mask, making her resolve weaker for a brief moment.

"Not like this", she added, shaking her head.

"I'm not going to offer it again", he said, his voice sharp as the blade of the knives he used to slaughter his enemies. He leaned further into her, not touching her but close enough that she could feel his breath on the tip of her nose.

"I enjoy your company too much to take you on your offer, Astarion". He froze in place.

And then, he started laughing. She turned her head on the side, letting out another sigh, before meeting his gaze again. The way he looked at her now sent a shiver down her spine. Finally, she could see the vicious predator, the vampire, the anger behind the perfectly crafted mask.

"You don't know me. You know nothing, miss know-it-all. You are naive, sheltered, blinded by your limited beliefs, by your limited life experience." His voice was sweet as honey when he spoke, but his eyes were darting daggers her way, keeping her in place. She blinked slowly and swallowed hard, then nodded. Her passiveness encouraged him to continue. "You are right about something, though. I don't want you. How could I?" He laughed in her face. She felt her heart heavy in her chest and a knot in her stomach, as if all the wine that she had during the night wanted to come out. But she wasn't going to take the humiliation without putting him in his place. She could feel her fingers tingle, and imagined all the possible ways in which she could make him pay. For a brief second, he disappeared: all she could see was darkness, all she could hear was a rumbling thunder in her ears and the fire pulsating in her veins.

She wanted to hurt him back, but she knew better than that. However he must've sensed the shift in the air, noticed her tensing jaw or her cold glare, because his nostrils flared, pupils dilated and he had stopped laughing. His reaction brought her back. She frowned, shaking her head, a familiar shudder taking over her body.

"Enjoy the rest of the night", she muttered before disappearing into the forest.

[leggerefiore]

cw: drabble, fluff, short, hoopa making Lear jealous

pairing: Lear/Reader

The pokemon was quite light in your arms as it nuzzled into your chest. You sat down on a bench within the park with a sigh. The sun shined brightly above. It was just about midday, and you could feel something like hunger settling in. You hummed and rubbed its back. While Hoopa may have been quite a mischievous sort, you found that it was very needy with you. Whenever Lear scolded the pokemon, it would float over to you and look at you with such a pitiful expression. The prince only got more frustrated as you petted Hoopa to comfort it.

Apparently, you were far too soft on it. But… Really, with how utterly distressed it would look, anyone would. You simply found the pokemon too cute, even if the prince could resist its charms. Hoopa seemed to enjoy gifting you random things in exchange for your doting. Precious jewels were not uncommon. Though, you often gave them to Lear to add to whatever his own hoard was or returned them to the pokemon while shaking your head. Recently, it had taken to just dropping the prince near you and smugly posing. Lear did not quite enjoy this either. Though, you thought it was cute that it determined you would like your boyfriend more than gems.

Your mind drifted back to the present. “Hoopa…” you spoke softly to the pokemon, “Do you grant wishes?” It tilted its head at your words. Its green eyes stared into your own. Blinking, it nodded. You hummed. “… I'll get you a treat…” an exchange may go down better, “If you help me get someone to relax.” Lear… You sighed. He was utterly determined to prove himself worthy to his father, even at the expense of himself. There were even times he spoke of possibly ending your relationship in order to please his father's plans for him to marry another royal. Those times left you sullen and wanting to never speak to him again. The pokemon seemingly noticed your expression dropping.

“Hoopa like you…” it spoke, bringing a hand to your cheek. You smiled. The psychic-type could talk… It often spoke like a little kid. You told it that you liked it, too. Its smile was bright in return. Pulling away from you, it took one of its hoops and summoned something. Lear fell through the portal with papers in his hands. His frustrated was immediate. Turning to the pokemon, he glared at it behind his sunglasses.

“Hoopa!” his voice was loud and filled with frustration. Hoopa seemingly ignored his upset and floated to you. He watched as it rubbed its cheek against your own and hugged you. Lear's arms crossed against his chest. You wondered what any of this meant.

“Hoopa love them!” it spoke and clung to you tighter. Lear tensed up. “If Lear doesn't want… Hoopa will take!” Part of you wanted to laugh at the absurdity. The pokemon likely to not really comprehend what its words meant. It was like a kid confessing a crush at the worst, but it was more likely that Hoopa was upset with Lear's effect on you as of late. You thought that, anyway. Well, until the pokemon took one of the rings off its horn and offered it to you. “Hoopa marry!”

It seemed the prince could take the scene no longer. Never before had you seen him move as quickly as he did to call the pokemon back to its ball. You blinked a few times. What was going on…? Lear's expression was nothing but frustration. He stomped towards you and stared at you wordlessly for a moment. Then, something like insecurity appeared to come over him. “…” his hand grasped your own, the fabric of his glove soft against your skin. You were pulled along by him until you both were in a private area.

“… Are you attempting to make me jealous?” his voice was low as be turned away from you. “I feel utterly powerless with you. My title means nothing to you – I'm just another person in your eyes.” You were silent. He let out a sigh. “… I…” his gaze drifted back to you, “I will not lose to a pokemon. You are my betrothed.” You flinched. That was the first time that you had heard that one. “Hmph. You look shocked. I see your commoner mind could not comprehend something so obvious—” You shut him up with a kiss. That was when he went from cute to annoying. His arms came around you as the affection was wholeheartedly returned.

When it broke, he clung to you still. The heat of his body soaked into you. “I will make the announcement soon,” he declared. You flinched. “… We must start planning for the wedding.”

Maybe you had pushed too many of his buttons.

~

“Here,” you offered the box of donuts to the pokemon. Hoopa had been sad all day since being informed that you were now engaged. Well, that was why you thought the reason was. It perked up instantly, gasping and immediately indulging itself. Your heart felt light at the sight of its pure joy. Sitting down, you let your mind wander to all the various plans Lear had presented to you. Really… It felt like he was waiting his entire life to plan a wedding. The announcement had shocked his retainers, but they both instantly turned to help him plan.

“Hoopa granted your wish!” it suddenly spoke, snapping you from your thoughts, “Lear better!” You wanted to laugh and cry. The pokemon really was sneaky. Was that all really an act to get Lear to make a decision. You supposed you could only wonder. At least, Hoopa seemed happy with the outcome.

[honeylouwho]

good for you ; soldier boy

synopsis: you like showing ben your favorite movies, but ben likes showing you his favorite moves.

cw: nsfw (18+) / daddy kink / p in v / kissing / ben being delectable / implied age gap / not proofread wc: 795 love note: loosely based on this

“Do you ever stop talking, sweetheart?” Ben was rolling his eyes, tapping on his knee with one finger as he watched you scroll through unfamiliar boxes on the television screen so you could watch some silly movie together. The pet name was more mocking than a term of endearment, especially coming from Soldier Boy, but you didn’t mind.

Ever since Ben had been released from the cryogenic chamber, missing out on multiple years, and thus far behind in culture and understanding, you had made it your mission to teach him all about the current state of the world. Bluetooth, iPhones, laptops, cameras. Really anything that made his brows crease and he looked at with some foreign expression on his face. 

“Yes, Ben,” you sighed, clicking on The Princess Bride with the remote and throwing it to the side. “You’ve never seen this movie. You have to see this movie.”

“Are ya just going to talk through the whole thing, sweetheart?” Ben asked you, stretching out on the couch. He was wearing a gray pair of sweatpants, making it hard to peel your eyes from him. The white t-shirt he was sporting clung to his muscles, the hem of the shirt lifting up just enough to expose his happy trail. 

“No,” you whined, the frustration of his teasing beginning to weigh on you, and he knew when his mockery started to get on your nerves. It only egged him on more, “no teasing, Ben, I like this movie.”

Ben scoffed, throwing an arm on the back of the couch, offering you a place curled into his side. Crawling across the couch, you fit yourself in the crook of his body. As the movie played on the screen, you couldn’t help but fixate on the patch of exposed skin near Ben’s waistband. 

You should have known better, because only fifteen minutes into the movie, you had somehow weaseled your way onto Ben’s lap. The urge and itch to be closer to him, to be connected with his skin was overwhelming.

“Thought you wanted to watch the movie, baby,” Ben’s fingers found their way to the back of your neck, pulling you back against his chest. Wiggling your hips, you squirmed on him, desperation flooding through you. 

“I did,” you whined, the fussy tone echoing throughout the room as you spun around in his lap. With either leg positioned on each side of him, you pressed your core onto him. The only thing separating you from his cock were the thin layers of your pajamas. “But you look so good.”

It didn’t take Ben long to get you out of your pajama pants, your panties a distant memory as he peeled them off. With minimal effort, his sweatpants lowered on his hips, he pulled his half hard cock out. Like molten chocolate, you melted into him, rocking your bare pussy against him until he was fully hard underneath you.

No lube, no spit— absolutely nothing was needed to ease yourself onto him. Your arousal was slick enough, coating Ben and even the inside of your thighs. 

Riding him, the movie still playing in the background, you threw your head back and let out a noise you weren’t even aware you could produce. A whine mixed with a moan, it sounded like a mating call you had mustered for Ben and Ben alone.

“Doing so good for dad, sweetheart. So good f’me,” Ben cooed, utilizing his hands to pull you up and down on his cock. You were partially aware that Ben knew this was going to end this way, that he knew the small sliver of skin where the hem of his shirt didn’t meet his waistband would leave you feral and drooling for him. 

“Yeah?” You panted out, spreading your knees to swallow more of his cock as he stabilized your hips and fucked up into you. “I’m so good?”

“Of course,” Ben groaned, hooking a finger under your chin and pulling your face closer to his. Lips intertwined, he lifted you up and down, getting himself off. “You’re always so good, huh? Who taught you that?”

The words were muffled against his lips, the feeling so good that you almost couldn’t respond. He was fucking you dumb, leaving you a sputtering mess, but you were determined to respond even if it took you a minute to get the words out. 

“You,” there was a pause in your sentence, a soft scream pulling from your throat as your eyes rolled back, “you taught me how to be good.”

“That’s right,” Ben told you, his fingers slowly stroking up and down your throat, although he didn’t add any pressure. “So impressionable. You always wanna put on a show for me. Maybe tomorrow I’ll teach you some new tricks.”

[patchworkcuddlebug]

Night of the Weredoll

Oh, my watch. Must be 11.

I can't help but sigh as I look around. It's been so long since I've been able to meet up with people. Everyone's either too busy, or wants to meet too late. Well, I'm not gonna let this curse get the better of me. Not tonight.

...Not for another few minutes, at least.

The next hour is a bit of a blur, but in a fun drunk way. I talk too loud to people I'm cuddling too close too. There's a movie on that everyone is half paying attention to, mostly to make fun of it.

There's a sudden pang in my stomach. By reflex, I reach back out to the veggie tray that's been laid out, but... no. This isn't hunger.

I look down at my watch. It's midnight. God fucking damn it, I set the alarm wrong! No, calm down, I can't let people see. I just need to leave.

I get up and try to avoid attention as I slink away to the door. Shit, shit, it's Andrea. Of course she's hovering right by the door, I can't just-

"Hey Jen, where you going?"

No! Damn it, everyone's looking...! I can't just not respond to her, good dolls are... No, no, not yet, please. "I just, uh... something came up, I gotta go, sorry..."

"Is everything okay?" Her tone instantly softens into sincere concern. "I haven't been drinking, I can drive you somew-"

"No, please!" I try my best not to sound desperate, and it definitely doesn't work. "I just need to leave, it's nothing you guys did, I..."

I can already feel the changes happening to my mind. The gentle tugging of strings, pulling me away from my humanity. It's rather rude to leave with such a commotion, wouldn't it be nice to stay and help them clean?

My posture straightens and my limbs stiffen It's like the strings are pulling me into place. Shit, I must look so scared...

I don't have a choice. I push past her and run to the bathroom across the hall, slamming the door behind me. This one is being much too rude. All I can do is mutter an apology under my breath. This... I can already feel it reaching my chest... good dolls don't curse, good dolls don't curse, good-

It's pulling. My shoulders. I push down on them, hugging myself as I try to keep my body from changing. I feel them shifting, churning, the joints of my bones growing segmented. Lines form on this one's slowly hardening skin, getting deeper by the second, until... pop!

It looks in the mirror, taking a second to just... stare at myself. The transformation is getting harder to hide by the second, especially since good dolls shouldn't be ashamed. The colour is leaving my body, nothing but sickly-pale porcelain almost all the way down to this one's hands.

A knock at the door, making me flinch. Good dolls should be more collected than that, this one needs to calm down. "Jen? Please, if something's bothering you, you can trust us."

This... I know I can. Good dolls... I can't just leave her without a response. "It's nothing you guys did, a... mmn..." I promise. That's all this one need to say. But it just gets caught in this one's throat. Dolls aren't supposed to say that word. "Just... please, leave... d-doesn't want to let... it..." No, this one needs to lie, she can't know, none of them can know.

Why is it happening so fast? This one needs to serve the others, it should be turning faster for them. No, no, this one should be a guest, it can't humiliate itself by... providing refreshments, and collecting empty drinks, and doing as it's told.

The emptiness is so strong. It feels like a black hole, trying to swallow this one's humanity. No matter how much it struggles, it... really shouldn't struggle. It's quite undignified. It's so close, there's so little left inside...

Slowly, cautiously, the doorknob turns. This one stands at attention, ready to... no, please, this one can't resist much longer. Something, anything. Yell at her, push the door closed on her, jump out the window. Anything other than... than...

"This one apologizes for its outburst." This one does its best to curtsy, trying to pull its jeans outwards at the hips. A regretfully unbecoming outfit. "How may this one be of service to you, miss?"

Andrea's eyes widen, and she begins to back away. "Wh... Jen, what... no, no, you're not... no, please..."

"This one is dreadfully sorry that it didn't explain things earlier. It was-"

The door slams in front of this one, and it hears the sounds of Andrea tripping over herself to escape back to the others.

She's scared of this one. It understands this. But... it should still do its best to serve her, shouldn't it? It's a doll, after all. Maybe it can explain itself, or help them calm down in some other way. This one hopes it can make itself useful to everyone.

With a gentle and put-together march, it begins to return to the people, following its purpose. This one knows that it would find all this mortifying as a human. For some reason, that part of it was always so resistant to the idea of submitting to her peers. Now, that resistance seems foolish. This one is a doll, obedient and docile. Of course it should make itself useful, it would be silly to think otherwise.

It dutifully opens the door, to be met with the stares of every person present. They seem as if a wild animal has wandered into the room, eager to pounce on the first to show weakness.

Mitch is the first to speak, before this one can even properly introduce itself, clutching a mostly-full bottle close to his chest. "Don't come any closer. You're not converting anyone here, alright?"

This one shakes its head. "This one wouldn't dream of doing such a thing without consent. It-"

Frantic whispers overtake the crowd. "So she can do it! It's not just a rumour!" "What do we do, she's already in here!" "Can we just tell it to leave?"

With a quick motion, Mitchel fixes his grip, holding the bottle by its neck. Just as one would hold a knife. He held it at an angle, causing some of the liquor to spill onto the hardwood floor. A messy accident, but one easily solved. "Please, allow this one to-"

"No! No." Mitchel calls out, brandishing the bottle. He speaks firmly, with a clear undercurrent of fear. "Just... get out. I'm not afraid to hurt you."

Andrea, still timidly hiding behind him, seems offended. "Mitch, that's still her!" She tries to sound insisting despite her whisper. Timidly, she grabs onto his shoulder as she peeks around him, trying to force a soothing voice. She still sounds terrified.

"Jen, you're... still in there somewhere, right? You're not just... some thing, right?"

This one hesitates from answering for longer than a doll should. It has never considered the question before. It blinks, taking just as long as necessary to articulate a response.

Its hands are politely clasped at its front. It speaks calmly and pointedly. "Dolls don't have an identity in the same manner that humans do. This one has Jennifer's memories, as well as some opinions and inclinations." It takes a moment to nod, intending to continue.

"Okay!" Andrea quickly blurted. "Okay, see? We can't hurt her, it's still... her in there." She looks to the others, to see if they're convinced.

Mitch looks incredulous, taking his eyes off of this one for only a second to look to Andrea. "What? No, we can't trusts that thing, it..." He trails off as he looks to this one. His eyes dart to the other guests, trying to gauge their feelings. All the while, he never stops facing this one.

"You seem to be uncomfortable with this one's presence." It explains in a matter-of-fact monotone. "Would you be more comfortable if it left?"

A heavy silence falls over the room. Nobody wants to speak first. "Yeah, let's..." Mitch blinks, hard, trying to swallow his thoughts. "You should leave."

"Understood." This one tries to curtsy again. "This one is deeply sorry for causing a disturbance. It hopes you can forgive it."

Without delay, this one obediently turns back to the door, closing it gently behind it.

There's a biting chill to the air as it walks through the night. Something a person would find intolerable. Jen would lament not being able to carpool back to her apartment, but the doll doesn't mind. It was just happy to do as was asked of it.

[miniatureteaset]

Planned Spontaneity

Floyd Leech, Yuu

1.3k

Pants. Shirt. Tie. Waistcoat. Blazer. Socks. Shoes. 

Every day, exactly the same way. 

Get dressed. Go to the kitchen to get Grim and I breakfast. Gather school supplies. Make the trek to the school. 

Every day, exactly the same way. 

This is my routine, and I have no intention of changing it. Every day has a routine, every action, a plan. No detail goes unchecked. Every day, down to the minute. 

When I met Azul, I had to admit that his ability to be so detail-oriented was admirable, even if it did cause me *many* problems with my routine. My routine was upset, and I hated it. Every time that *octopus* caused me a problem with my routine, I wanted to strangle him. 

But then, everything was over. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were no longer under contract, Azul’s overblot was done and over with, and I was able to go back to my wonderful, blissful routine. I never had to speak to him again if I didn’t feel like it. 

When I’d met the Leech twins, they annoyed me too. Dragging me into Azul’s contracts when all I had wanted to do was leave the Heartslabyul freshmen to learn their lesson about forming contracts without a plan. Blocking me every step of the way when I’d tried to fix messes that weren’t mine. 

But they had qualities I’d admired. Jade always kept a cool head. He was always so formal and spoke so eloquently. Always did the things he said he would. He annoyed me, but I liked him. 

As for Floyd… I liked that he never let anyone tell him what to do, for better or worse. He did whatever he felt like doing. He was spontaneous. 

He had something that I lacked. Something I *knew* I lacked. 

I knew how upset I always got when my plans were interrupted, when my routine was broken. 

Maybe that was why I was doing this. No, it was definitely why I was doing this. 

I open the doors to the Mostro Lounge, steeling myself for what’s to come. Finishing my plan for how to make sure this goes in my favor. 

Soon enough, I’m with Azul in the VIP room, preparing to negotiate. 

“So, what brings you here today, Yuu?” Azul places his chin on his hands as he looks at me with that annoyingly sly smile. 

I look back with my usual blank expression, keeping all my intentions and desires close to my chest. “I would like to discuss the possibility of employment at the Mostro Lounge.”

Azul raises a brow. “Oh? We would love to have you. Tell me, why the change in heart since the last time we discussed this?”

“My reasons are none of your business. As for the terms of my employment, I would like to be scheduled…” I start listing off my specifics, going through working hours, positions, and pay, among other things in my usual monotone. 

Everything planned to the last detail. 

Of course, Azul, ever the businessman, tries to negotiate. Tries, but fails. 

I have no intention of compromising, in any case. He knows that. 

Soon enough, I have my contract with Azul for my employment at the Mostro Lounge with every single specification I'd requested. When you threaten to walk out any time a request isn't met, it really gets you somewhere, after all.

I’ll be able to get closer to Floyd now. I’ll use Floyd to desensitize myself to changing plans and routines. 

It was supposed to be nothing more than that. A plan to be more spontaneous. 

“Shrimpyyyy~!” Floyd comes up behind me and places his arms on my shoulders, leaning what seems to be his full weight on me. 

“Floyd. Off. You know I don’t like being touched.” Well, it’s not like he’s going to stop either way. 

“Aww, but that’s no fun~!” He pokes at my cheek a few times as if intentionally antagonizing me. 

Instead of pushing him off of me like I usually would, I just sigh and resign myself to my predicament.

“Sooo, any plans tonight?” He sets his chin on the top of my head, crossing his arms around my shoulders. 

I pause for a moment, thinking about what I was going to do tonight. 

“...No, actually.” The thought surprises me more than anything. *Me*, not have some sort of plan? Ha! I’m going to turn my head and see a pig with wings next to me. 

“Sweet! I’m taking you with me~.” Suddenly, I’m being lifted off the ground with no idea as to where I’m being dragged off to. 

Now, normally, I would be kicking and clawing to get out of this. He was dragging me somewhere against my will, where I had no information about where we were going or what we’d be doing. 

But…I think my little plan worked, because I have simply resigned myself to Floyd’s whims. Or maybe…

Am I even feeling a little…excited? 

No, absolutely not. I’m just…curious. That’s all. Nothing more. 

“Here we are!” Floyd sets me down with a plop, and I almost lose my balance. “The cooks are givin’ out some new sweets I wanna try.” He grabs my wrist and leads me into the crowd of people that seems to part for him as soon as they see him. After all, Floyd's whims are certainly something to be feared, as the general population of NRC would attest to.

I watch on with some mix of nervousness and that same ‘curiosity’ from earlier as Floyd drags me through the crowd. 

Soon enough, the two of us are looking at sweets freshly prepared by the school’s chefs. 

“Ooh, that one looks tasty~! Hmm, no. That one!” Just as easily as he makes up his mind, he changes it seconds later. 

How he can manage to do that just baffles me. Just pick one!

I look at the flavors myself, considering whether I want to buy one for myself. There *are* some pretty interesting sweets…

“Come on, Shrimpy~! Pick one…!” Floyd whines at me from beside me as he munches down on three? Four?? Different kinds of sweets. He finishes one of them off, using his now free hand to poke and prod at me in an attempt to get me to hurry up. 

I swat his hands away with a sharp, “Fine! Fine.” I pick a random item from the shelf, only really seeing what it was after it was handed to me. 

What *is* this?

I stare at it in confusion, never having seen anything like it before. 

“Come on, let’s go wander~.” He takes my free hand, pulling me away from the crowds again and pulling me along various hallways as the two of us, or rather one of us, snacks on the sweets we’d gotten. 

After a while of us walking together, Floyd eating his sweets, and me staring at the abomination that I’d happened to pick, Floyd looks at me.  “You gonna eat that~? If not, give it here.”

I shoot a glare his way, holding my abomination closer. “No, it’s mine.”

“Fineee…” He takes a bit of one of the other sweets he’d gotten, leaving mine alone. 

I eye mine warily for a moment before risking a bite. I *had* picked it, after all. It's a matter of principle. After chewing for a moment…

I look down with a confused look. 

Is this…good?

I take a few more bites, rather surprised that my spontaneous decision had been worth it. 

“Sooo…? ‘S it good?” 

I look up to see Floyd looking down at me with that weird little smile of his. 

“Hahah, you’ve got stuff on your face!” He points at the little spots on my face from my sweet and laughs with that weird little laugh of his. 

I quickly wipe off the specks on my face, turning away from Floyd in a way that makes it obvious I’m embarrassed about it. 

“You’re funny, Shrimpy~. I’m glad I brought you with me.”

[suokumi]

being told while growing up that "no one cares if you xyz" and "no one needs this that and those" really fucks up your perception of things huh

[nonbinary-sticks-the-badger]

i dont think he's shadow's best va but i think david humphrey definitely suits his character best (at least my version of how canon shadow should act). he has the ability to sound menacing but isn't overly aggressive; he can be gentle when needs be.

i particularly like his more monotone performance adds to it because it isnt so far as to sound unenthusiastic (as an actor) but it gives off the feeling that he's uninterested to those who don't know him, portraying the misunderstood side well. at the same time this adds to shadow being easy to view as autistic, which is obviously going to please me, an autistic person, and help me relate.

im glad he's not the exclusive VA for shadow, because i dont think he would have thrived in his more "edgy" mischaracterisations later (NOT counting shth because even if it is ridiculously edgy at times THE WHOLE! POINT! OF THAT GAME! IS THAT THE PLAYER! DECIDES! SHADOW'S! MOTIVES!). even when shadow is portrayed in a more nuanced light, eg 06, prime, it isn't quite the same way as he was in sa2 and heroes. neither have a major focus on maria or anything to do with the ark in shadow's story, and while heroes doesn't either, i think with the general tone of the game (and also with it being aimed at a younger demographic) shadow does get to express himself way differently through the level dialogue, a more informal way of communicating character, than in cutscene dialogue.

to be fair i have never played 06 so i dont know the level dialogue in that!!! but also out of the 3 iterations i just listed that one has the oldest target audience (heroes is PEGI 3, prime would probably be PEGI 7 and 06 is PEGI 12). and obviously theres no level dialogue in prime lol.

anyway hope you enjoyed my yapping about david humphrey shadow 👉👈

[thecherrygod]

I need to find a way to make my words actually mean what I say

[urfriendlywriter]

How to write smut ?

(@urfriendlywriter | req by @rbsstuff @yourlocalmerchgirl anyone under the appropriate age, please proceed with caution :') hope this helps guys! )

writing smut depends on each person's writing style but i think there's something so gut-wrenchingly beautiful about smut when it's not very graphic and vivid. like., would this turn on a reader more?

"he kissed her, pulling her body closer to him."

or this?

"His lips felt so familiar it hurt her heart. His breathing had become more strained; his muscles tensed. She let herself sink into his embrace as his hands flattened against her spine. He drew her closer."

(Before proceeding further, these are all "in my opinion" what I think would make it better. Apply parts of the advice you like and neglect the aspects you do not agree with it. Once again I'm not saying you have to follow a certain type of style to write smut! Creative freedom exists for a reason!)

One may like either the top or the bottom one better, but it totally depends on your writing to make it work. Neither is bad, but the second example is more flattering, talking literally. (Here is me an year after writing this post, i think, either is amazing, depending on the context. the type of book you're writing, your writing style and preferences!)

express one's sensory feelings, and the readers will automatically know what's happening.

writing, "her walls clenched against him, her breath hitching with his every thrust" is better than writing, "she was about to cum".

(edit: once again, hi, it's me. Either is amazing depending on ur writing style. Everything at the end is about taste.)

here are some vocabulary you can introduce in your writing:

whimpered, whispered, breathed lightly, stuttered, groaned, grunted, yearned, whined, ached, clenched, coaxed, cried out, heaved, hissed

shivering, shuddering, curling up against one's body, squirming, squirting, touching, teasing, taunting, guiding, kneeling, begging, pining, pinching, grinding,

swallowing, panting, sucking in a sharp breath, thrusting, moving gently, gripped, biting, quivering,

nibbling, tugging, pressing, licking, flicking, sucking, panting, gritting, exhaling in short breaths,

wet kisses, brushing soft kisses across their body (yk where), licking, sucking, teasing, tracing, tickling, bucking hips, forcing one on their knees

holding hips, guiding the one on top, moving aimlessly, mindlessly, sounds they make turn insanely beautiful, sinful to listen to

some adverbs to use: desperately, hurriedly, knowingly, teasingly, tauntingly, aimlessly, shamelessly, breathlessly, passionately, delicately, hungrily

he sighed with pleasure

her skin flushed

he shuddered when her body moved against his

he planted kisses along her jawline

her lips turned red, messy, kissed and flushed.

his hands were on his hair, pulling him.

light touches traveled down his back

words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more

he arched his back, his breath quivering

her legs parted, sinking into the other's body, encircling around their waist.

+ mention the position, how they're being moved around---are they face down, kneeling, or standing, or on top or on bottom--it's really helpful to give a clear picture.

+ use lustful talk, slow seduction, teasing touches, erratic breathing, give the readers all while also giving them nothing. make them yearn but DO NOT PROLONG IT.

sources to refer to for more:

gesture that gets me on my knees !!

(more to comeee, check out my hot or kisses prompts on my master list!)

[honeyjynxxed]

DeadTired Draft

"You're very good at pretending to be a shadow."

Tim's voice shook Danny from his quiet note taking and he looked up at his study partner with furrowed brows and confusion on his face. "I'm sorry?" It was as much a question as it was an apology which meant it was neither really.

Electric blue eyes pinned him in place, and Tim looked at Danny as if he had just said the sky was green. "If I had not been partnered with you in our ecology class I wouldn't know you exist. No one at this school knows you exist besides the staff and even then you're a name to a face to a grade. Nothing else. You're very good at pretending to be a shadow, a bodiless thing gliding along the edges of society."

Danny bit his lip slightly, mulling these words over. Tim was right of course, he never allowed himself to make waves, he stuck to the background of any place he was in, and really he was surprised that he wasn't more noticeable with how often Tim Drake-Wayne was his study partner. "I guess...I've never really like attention anyway. Why, you stalking me, Drake?" He raised a brow at the other boy, attempting to hide his confusion behind snark. He hardly ever used Tim's last name, either of them, but this seemed like an appropriate time to do so.

"Hiding something, Nightingale?" Tim snarked back but there was a bit of genuine questioning under his tone that had Danny tensing up in his sit, gripping his pencil a little too tightly in his left hand. "I can only contact you through your student email, you don't have a phone number or a phone period as far as I can tell, you have a laptop that barely works and seemingly requires a blood sacrifice to do the most basic of tasks. You live on campus but you never let me see your dorm, you never agree to meet me anywhere but the library on campus and I just-" He lets out a heavy sigh and runs his hands through his hair and suddenly Danny is a lot less tense in his seat. When Tim's eyes settle on him again there's genuine concern there and it breaks his heart. "I am worried. Daniel Nightingale doesn't exist outside of this college and it makes me think you're running from something or someone. If that isn't the cause then by all means please tell me I'm overstepping but Danny..." Tim reaches across the table that separates them and grabs at his free hand. "If you need help I'm here, ok?"

And oh...oh Danny's core positively sings in his chest at the admission. Protection was a major obsession for Danny and the way Tim talked, the way he explained his thought process, it made Danny feel warm and fuzzy inside despite the permanent chill in his body. Tim wanted to protect him and wasn't that so sweet? "I-" Danny stuttered before a sad smile was spreading across his lips and he gave the boy's hand a gentle squeeze. "I appreciate that but unless you have a way to somehow get an entire government organization disbanded and legislature revoked then I'm afraid this is out of your ballpark."

And really, Danny should've known better than to open his fat mouth. He should've known that the Fenton luck would bite him in the ass with his first real friend since Sam and Tucker. Tim may have dropped the conversation after that but by no means had he dropped the topic entirely. No instead apparently he had somehow gotten into contact with the Justice League because less than two weeks later Batman, Red Robin, Superman, and John Constantine of all people were waiting for him inside his dorm when he got back from a late night of studying.

What.

The.

Fuck.

[nandermoenthusiast]

i could write a fucking tragedy. i could write about being so good but so misunderstood and being so brilliant but so held back and being the losing hero in your worst circumstances and going through all that and trying to grasp at sand and being doomed by the narrative and having the worst fucking thing you can imagine happen but still you manage to get to the other side of it. maybe the tragedy is unpreventable and you with all your gifts are useless and cant do anything about any of that, but maybe it was never about saving everyone and everything. maybe out of the rubble you can remain

[scorpiosbite]

the first time drew saw actress!reader.

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 ────୨ৎ──── when drew was forced by madelyn to come watch this new show with her and the rest of the cast he didn’t expect to have his heart captured by the mesmerising woman on the screen.

𝜗𝜚 pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey

author’s note: this takes place in 2023 during the filming of obx 4 which is when game of thrones started airing in my timeline also actress!reader is anywhere between 19-22 years old.

drew was sprawled across the couch in his hotel room, aimlessly scrolling. after a long day of filming under the hot and heavy sun of morocco, he had no intention of doing anything that required effort. his plan was to simply scroll until his eyes got heavy and he knocked out, but knowing his insomnia that wouldn’t be until the early hours of the morning.

glancing at the time displayed on his phone ten pm it read, he let out a heavy sigh, though his body ached with exhaustion, his mind would not shut off. but before he could put down his phone and try to force himself to sleep, a knock sounded on the door “yeah?”

“drew! its maddie.”

“maddie?” he spoke softly, what’s she doing up at this time. usually she was asleep the moment she got back to the hotel. “come in, its open.”

she came tumbling through the door, coming to a stop in front of the couch where he laid. drew couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched her. “what’s up?”

“drew! you gotta come watch this new show with us!” her hands were placed on her hips as she looked down at him.

drew sighed, a noise of exhaustion. “i can’t be fucked getting up, cline.” her face scrunched up, ready to dispute him.

“drew you have to! the last episode of season one just came out and i watched the first episode when it aired and it was so good that i stopped watching so that we could binge it all when the season finished!”

recognition sparked on his face. “wait is this game of thrones? i remember you saying how good the first episode was, like two months ago.”

madelyn’s face grew excited at the fact that he remembered. “yeah! please please, you have to come watch it, jd, bailey, chase, laci, rudy and austin are already in my room waiting.”

drew mulled over the idea for a moment. either he could rot in his room until his call time tomorrow or hang out with his friends and possibly watch a good show, if maddie’s high praise was anything to go by.

“yeah, alright let’s go.” he stood up from the couch, stretching his arms and grabbing his phone to follow maddie, who was already halfway out the door, unable to wait any longer.

when they arrived at her room, the first episode was already lined up on the screen, the hbo logo blaring in the dark room. drew greeted everyone and then took a seat on the spare love seat by the window. “you guys get forced too?” he questioned.

“yup.” jd breathed out. “nah i’ve been wanting to watch this, i remember hearing about it when they started filming, it’s supposed to be like super graphic and vulgar.” madison commented. “shit, really? i know nothing about this show, other than the fact that cline can’t shut up about it.” austin added. chuckles sounded across the room, and madelyn yelled from the kitchen where the popcorn she was making turned in the microwave. “y’all are about to thank me!”

drew simply sat in silence, with the amount maddie was praising this show, his skepticism grew, no way this show was that good. someone pressed play as soon as madelyn was seated, he didn’t see who. the intro song of the show blasted through the room and drew settled back into his seat.

“yo, pass me the popcorn?” chase rolled up the bag and chucked it across the room from where he was sat, drew caught it with ease.

he couldn’t lie, the show was good, fifteen minutes in and he was hooked. and just when he thought that it couldn’t get better, you came on the screen.

“holy fuck who is that?” jd’s voice rang out, but drew felt as though his voice came from somewhere far away. he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. “she’s beautiful right?” madelyn sighed out. mummers of agreement sounded from the people sitting in the room. “her name’s y/n y/l/n.”

“y/n” drew repeated to himself softly, almost as he was testing the feel of your name in his mouth. rolling the syllables on his tongue, in that moment he decided that no other word would ever compare to the way your name felt on his lips.

dressed in a flowing dress with daring cuts exposing your seemingly soft skin, he wondered what would it feel like if he ran his palms along the smooth expansion. your hair sliver, long and loose to play visenya targaryen, the last targaryen, the daughter of rhaegar targaryen and elia martell. drew felt as though no one had ever looked more stunning in the history of the world.

“drew? you all good man?” someone asked, he didn’t know who, he couldn’t hear or think of anything beyond you and the performance you were giving. “i think starkey’s got a crush.” rudy sang out, and the rest laughed. but drew couldn’t care less, too busy watching you.

they watched two more episodes and as the third episode came to an end drew finally broke out of his trance. while the rest occasionally made comments during the show drew could not tear himself away from the screen, afraid that if he looked away he would miss you.

“i gotta hand it to you, cline, i’m hooked. that shit was amazing!” carlacia grinned. “i fucking told you guys!” she retorted back. “but aside from that, starkey? what did you think?” she smirked at him.

“yeah, that was good.” drew’s body tingling “that’s it? just good? you don’t wanna talk about the moon eyes you were making every time visenya came on screen?” drew cheeks tinged pink. “yeah, she’s pretty.” “aye, shot your shot man, she’s so fine.” madison teased.

as drew made his way back to his room he looked at the time, two am, damn he didn’t even realise time had passed that quick. sliding into his bed after taking a quick shower, he couldn’t help himself but run a quick search of you on google. “fuck.” the soft curse slipping from his lips, just when he thought you couldn’t get hotter, he saw pictures of you, not in costume, naturally a brunette, he was so fucked. fuck it, he quickly searched up your name on instagram.

you were laying in bed scrolling through instagram when a notification popped up.

drewstarkey started following you. follow back?

first one, do you like it? if you do i’ll keep writing. reblogs and comments are welcome and appreciated.