#where they either have female LIs

[serpentface]

FAMILY TITLES AMONG THE HILL TRIBES

(ft. various linguistic notes and tangents)

In-universe Brakul’s self-given title of ‘Red-Dog’ is Brakul 'ne-Dainh' in his native language (Bict-Urbinnas dialect of the Highland language group) and Brakul 'Chin-Reyla' in Wardi. Ne-Dainh/Chin-Reyla is not something he treats as or considers an actual surname or identity, just a self-styled nickname. He already has a title.

Family names/surnames are not a native practice among the Hill Tribes (though some clans or individual families have adopted this practice), and all traditionally use titles that designate immediate ancestry, clan and tribe. These full titles are officially given when one comes of age and are spoken aloud in ceremony (with the entire direct male and female lines listed by name, with most traditions expecting 12 generations of each being named).

The function is to cement one’s sense of place in the world, and their place in a direct ancestral line, which puts the person under the full watch and guidance of their ancestors. It's also a critical method of recording lineage- the long held practice of each person memorizing at least 24 total direct ancestors allows for very long, largely accurate records of family history to be kept, with some people able to trace their ancestry all the way back to initial settlement of the Highlands (or even beyond).

Brakul’s full title is:

“Brakul virsum Kuligan et Borunil an Briyonis ne-Taig an Bict-Urbinnas”

Which dead literally translates to “Brakul son of Kuligan and Borunil of the Foothills (of) Red-Cattle, of the North (Urbin/Erubin) River Valley” but has a much richer meaning in the original language.

"BRAKUL VIRSUM KULIGAN ET BORUNIL"

The actual meaning here is closer to ‘Brakul, son of Kuligan and his father’s fathers, and Borunil and her mother’s mothers’.

“Virsum” means ‘child (son/daughter) of’ (the gender is contextual), but implies the person’s status as a descendant of a full male and female line of ancestors. A different word is used if you’re just saying ‘I’m so and so’s son”. The title describes him as a son of his father Kuligan and of Kuligan’s male line, and of his mother Borunil and Borunil's female line.

All ancestors (within this particular system of kinship, divided into one direct male line from the father and one direct female line from the mother, and not including husbands from the female line or wives from the male line) are invoked and credited with the word ‘virsum’. Speaking it as part of the personal title is part of the routine and necessary honoring of one’s ancestors, who watch over their descendants from the afterlife and can temporarily return to the land to guide and protect (and sometimes punish, or teach sharp lessons to) the living.

"AN BRIYONIS NE-TAIG"

The actual meaning here would be understood as ‘clan/people of the foothills where cattle are lit red by the setting sun'.

‘Briyonis’ is the word for ‘foothill’, citing his clan’s specific location being the foothills that form the slopes of the north Urbin river valley. He is of a lesser clan within the powerful North Urbin River tribe. His clan benefits from close affiliation to their more powerful ruling clans located directly in the river valley, which grants them access to a greater variety of cultivated foods, but their actual position in the foothills still renders them predominantly reliant on cattle for subsistence. Clan names referencing cattle or horses are very common, given their frequent centrality to life.

The ‘ne-Taig’ literally means ‘red cattle’, but the ‘ne’ color word for red specifically invokes shades of red seen in and cast by a rising/setting sun. This red cast is culturally regarded as a unique beauty and evocative (and part of the name) of the solar god Hraighne. The foothills his clan is physically located on are a vantage point from which the western horizon is not fully obscured by mountains, and they experience very striking sunsets and are directly touched by the light. This is fairly unique to this location, and is invoked in the clan name and identity. ‘Ne-Taig’ here suggests a visual of grazing cattle illuminated red by the sun as it crosses the horizon.

‘Ne-Dainh’ carries the same implication, a dog illuminated red by setting sunlight. The Wardi language does not have a comparable word for a sunlit red and ‘Chin-Reyla’ really does just mean ‘(orangeish) red dog’ (‘reyla’ is specific to orangey-red colors, which is the closest match he could get. There’s no way to impart the meaning of ‘sunlit-red dog’ in Wardi that is non-clunky enough to be appropriate for a name).

"AN BICT-URBINNAS"

‘an Bict-Urbinnas’ is fairly simple, Bict means ‘north’, and 'Urbin' is the name of the specific river that stems from a northern and eastern tributary. This river has a very ancient name (or a derivative of one) that predates settlement by the Hill Tribes, and its exact meaning is lost.

The root -(n)nas designates a river valley, but has strong implications of being an esteemed and bountiful place, rather than solely a literal geographical descriptor (as the river valleys are centers of power and trade in the highlands). It may be a loanword from the Wardi language family, as its usage is VERY similar in form and function to the Wardi -(n)nos, which also suggests a place of esteem and bounty (more specifically having connotations of a kingdom).

’An’ literally means ‘of’, but in the specific sense of describing the place and identity of a collection of people. ‘an Bict Urbinnas’ would be understood in speech as ‘of the north Urbin River Valley (people)’. The clans historically settled in and around the valley of the North Urbin River form the totality of the Bict-Urbinnas tribe.

The ‘Urbin’ word predates the contemporary Wardi name ‘Erubin’ for the river, the latter of which invokes the semi-mythological founding figure Erub, who himself was of a Wardi tribe located downriver to the south of the Highlands. The real historically extant ‘Erub’ was most likely named Urub after the river, with his cited name shifting over the centuries in folklore, and the Wardi name for the river shifting with it.

‘Erubin’ as a corruption of ‘Urbin’ functions very well in Wardi language due to ‘-bi/bin’ denoting something as a ‘gift’, usually in a more metaphorical sense. ‘Erubin’ is understood as meaning ‘(The river that is) Erub’s gift’, and the Erubin/Urbin river is a key tributary to the much larger Black river, one of the key rivers that feeds the region's wetter and more fertile west. This 'gift' meaning also occurs in the name of the southeastern Imperial Wardi city-state Erubinnos, which is understood as meaning ’((The kingdom that is) Erub’s gift’. He is considered to have conquered and taken the land (from the core city's actual founders, the Wogan people) and established a kingdom there in the early days of warring Wardi tribal monarchies.

[versegm]

Reminders:

"Intersex" means "someone born with sexual characteristics that don't fit quite well in the male/female sex binary."

"Intersex" is not synonymous to "non-binary". In fact, being intersex has nothing to do with gender at all. Intersex and trans people have many struggles in common, but if you're talking about trans-specific issues you really don't need to say "intersex and trans people".

Intersex people can be trans. Intersex people can also be cis. Intersex people, in the majority of countries, are assigned a gender at birth just like everyone else.

"Intersex" doesn't necessarily relate to genitals. When I say "sexual characteristics" it can also mean secondary sexual characteristics, hormone levels, chromosomes, and probably a bunch of other shit I forgot about. Please stop reducing intersex people to their genitals.

(On that note, having both working sets of genitals is at best extremely rare and at worst physically impossible. Sorry, intersex people can't fulfill your futa fantasies. Please stop tagging futa shit as intersex. The two are unrelated.)

Please. This pride month remember that intersex people like. Exist. Intersex folks are not hypotheticals they're not "that one letter we gotta tack at the end of every queer post and never think about any further" they're. People. Remember that they exist. Every year I have to make a post like this one where I explain the very basic things you can learn by reading the intersex wikipedia page because people see "intersex" and make assumptions as to what the word means without actually reading the dictionary definition. Please remember that intersex people exist, I looked up "intersex pride" on tumblr and half the posts I saw were a variation of "happy pride to people of all genders and sexualities!" when being intersex has nothing to do with either gender or sexuality. Please. I understand that you guys don't mean any ill, but I am very tired of making basic posts over and over.

And inb4 someone tries to strike dumb discourse on this post: I live in a country where it is legal and encouraged to perform surgery on intersex infants. Looking up "intersex athlete controversy" returned to me like three different cases of athletes who were coerced into surgery without being informed of all the risks and having to lead with lifelong consequences for it. When I say "remember intersex people" I don't mean "uwu intersex people are valid" I mean they're a demographic whose literal human rights are constantly spit upon. I don't give a shit if you think intersex people belong or not under the queer umbrella or what you think are the proper qualifications to identify as intersex literally everytime I talk to an intersex person I hear a variation of "my doctor straight-up lied to me to get me to undergo medical procedures to make me normal without my consent or input" I think people should be aware of that actually I think it's more important than arguing over labels.

[parkersbliss]

the 141 and their obsessed girlfriend

pairing: task force 141 (ghost, gaz, price, soap) x female reader 

synopsis: you love your boyfriend, maybe a little too much that some of the things you say are... concerning to say the least.

warnings: kind of gory for simon, sexual innuendo, death threat, reader is just unhinged and in love with her man fr

a/n: if you get it, you get it. these all may or may nOT be things I've said to my boyfriend to which he said I was "batshit crazy but in a sexy way"

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for tf141!

—

Ghost:

You sigh, laying your head down on Simon’s chest. His reaction is instinctive, an arm wrapping around you and pulling you closer. You snuggle further into him, his warmth radiating onto your skin. A reminder to you of where your home truly was. 

You can hear his heartbeat in his chest, pumping at a steady pace. You count each thump, rhythmic and soft. Faintly, you hear the sound of air moving in and out of his lungs and the slight bubbling of his stomach from the food you had eaten earlier. 

Simon’s hand strokes your lower back, drawing circles as his eyes focus on the rugby match. He’s unaware of his actions, something he’s too used to when he lies with you. He likes feeling the warmth, the subtle pulse, and shivers. It’s a reminder that you’re real. 

You’re too lost in his heartbeat to hear the narration of the game. There was something so comforting to listen to him, affirming what you knew was true. Your boyfriend was alive, his heart circulating the blood through his body. You push yourself further into his chest, wanting to be closer. You couldn’t get any closer, you knew that, but you needed to be. There was some part of you that kept urging for it. 

“Simon,” You call out. 

He looks down at you. “Hm?”

You meet his eyes. “I want to cut through your skin, open your ribcage, and feel your heart.” You said it casually, not faltering and maintaining eye contact with him. You needed to crawl into his chest and live there, be one with him. Closer. 

Simon doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t even blink at your words. “I’d want nothing more than to have you cradle my heart in your hands.” 

You move to straddle him, resting your legs on either side of his hips and leaning your chin on his sternum so you can really look at him. “You don’t think I’m crazy?”

He scoffs. “Quite the opposite.”

“Even if I want to live inside your chest?”

“If I could make that happen, I would.” He runs a hand through your hair, tugging gently at the knots. 

You smile at him. “I’d let you live in mine and use my lungs as your personal trampoline.” 

Simon chuckles a beautiful sound to you and lets his hand rest on your hips. “I would be honored.” 

You trace patterns on his chest, huffing. “I just want to live in you.” 

“Unfortunately, you’ll just have to settle for my dick in you.”

You purse your lips from on top of him. “I guess that’ll do.”

Gaz:

You set your phone on the bedside table, lying on your side to look at your boyfriend. He was shirtless, with nothing but his briefs on in bed. Your eyes trace up and down him, taking in all the curves of his muscles and the lines of his abs to the slight stubble of a beard and the downward slope of his nose. God, he was so pretty. 

As if on cue, he turns to look at you. “What?” He murmurs in that voice of his. Kind, but a hint of grit to it. He made it so easy for your thoughts to run wild. You wanted to have his kids. See his eyes in them, the curve of his nose. Actually, scratch that you wanted—“I wanna get you pregnant,” You blurt out. 

Kyle laughs, loud. He isn’t sure he quite heard you correctly. He hopes he did, but then again, you did have a knack for breaking silence with something worth talking about. “What?” 

“I wanna get you pregnant,” You repeat. 

He stills, staring at you and how your face is unwavering. He’s not quite sure what to make of that sentence. He stares at you, your lips pursed in thought and eyes sparkling with a bit of mischief. “That’s simply not possible.” 

“I know,” You said. “But I just want to be able to like fuck you for once.” 

“Oh my god.” 

You shake your head, suddenly aware of how unhinged you sound. But that’s just what Kyle did to you. You were downright obsessed with him. Everything about him made your thoughts melt into a pile of mush and goo. One look at him had you practically reeling. You couldn’t fathom how he was real and yours, nonetheless. “Sorry! You’re just so fucking pretty and it’s like I need to bend you ov—,” 

“Babe,” He cuts you off. “Okay! I get it.” 

“No, but like—,"

He raises his brows at you. “It’s not biologically possible.” He restates, emphasizing that he was not letting that happen and neither was the world. Thank god, he thinks. 

You flop down onto your back on the bed with a groan. “So unfair. We should be like seahorses.” 

Kyle hums, choosing to humor you. “Uh-huh, sorry babe.” 

“I’m just so obsessed with you. I have so many feelings I just… I don’t know what to do with it.” 

Kyle’s hand traces up and down your arm. “Well, we could start with not getting me pregnant.” He moves to situate himself on top of you, pressing his nose into your neck. “But maybe there’s a compromise here, hm?” He kisses the soft skin, and once again, your brain melts into nothing. He was so good to you. He made it easy for you to forget everything in the world but his name on your tongue. So you couldn’t get him pregnant. There was a better idea ahead. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Soap: 

You sat at the table next to Johnny, coffee in hand. You both sit in silence, observing the people passing by on the street. You make note of a man frantically texting on his phone, a little girl chasing after a bird, a couple clinging on to each other. 

People watching. A favorite pastime for the two of you. 

You watch as a girl walks by, her gaze lingering on your boyfriend a second longer than you’d like. Her eyes rake up and down his figure, and she pulls out her phone, no doubt texting someone. 

You turn to Johnny, who’s oblivious to it. “I’m going to fucking kill her.”

His head snaps towards you. “What, love?” 

“That girl,” You gesture with your head. “I’m going to kill her.” 

“Why?” 

“She looked at you.” 

Your boyfriend nearly spits out his coffee. “So you’re gonna kill her?” 

You glare at him. “That’s merciful.” 

“Oh really?” He jests you. 

You nod your head, setting down your coffee and pulling out your phone. “If I really wanted to fuck with her, then I could find her home address and slightly misplace all the objects in her flat and watch her go insane.”

Johnny stares at you, concern etched into his face. His eyes sweep your face for any ounce of joke, but he knows you’renot. He always wanted a possessive girlfriend. “You’re crazy.” 

“Crazy about you,” You correct. “If I ever see anyone look at you like that again, I’m going to call an airstrike on them.” 

He grabs your hands. “Love, you never have to worry about anyone else.”

“I don’t worry. They should worry. If they wanna stare, then they can stare at the ceiling before I gouge their eyes out.” 

Johnny sighs. He loves you, truly. But to say you weren’t sometimes a little unhinged was an understatement. You always had a jealous streak about you, it’s what initially drew him in. That fire he saw in your eyes, dangerous but beckoning him closer. The idea of a possessive girlfriend really did turn him on. It was just moments like these that he wished he could carry around a giant sign that said “Please don’t look at me unless you wanna die.” 

“You’re something else, you know?” He asked, running his thumb over your knuckles. 

You melt a little at the gesture, and he can see your shoulders relax. “You’re mine.” 

He presses a quick kiss to your lips. “True, and you never have to do that. So please stop threatening random people on the street in public.” 

You smile at him. He was so sweet. “You’ll never find a bitch crazier than me, baby.” 

“I never want to,” Johnny insists. “Though, you can show me crazy in a different way…” 

You can see his eyes sparkling with something and you bite your lip, grabbing his hands. “Let’s go home.” 

Price:

You’re sat next to Price on the couch. He’s got a hand slung over your shoulder, keeping you close as you lean your head into the crook of his neck. He was warm, a giant teddy bear covered in rippling muscles. His beard scratches the top of your head, but it’s not uncomfortable. In fact, you love the feeling of it when you’re kissing. The soft pinch of his hair against your face. 

But honestly, you loved everything about him. There wasn’t one thing about him you could dislike. Well, maybe that he was gone so long sometimes. In reality, it just made you want him more though. It created special moments like this, where you knew time was futile. 

You sigh, playing with the hairs of his beard. You feel like them against your fingertips, pinching and prodding. 

You gaze up at your husband, his blue eyes focused on the screen and dark lashes contrasting with his pale skin. 

“Honey,” You murmur.

He hums, looking down at you. “Yes?” 

You cock your head at him. “I want to take your beard hair and make it into matching sweaters for us.” 

Price, unfazed by most things, is fazed by this. He could take a bullet, and wouldn’t flinch at a grenade or a gun pointed at his face. But that. 

That was a sentence he wasn’t sure how to unpack. 

“What?” He asked. 

You giggle a little. “You know, the clippings in the bathroom. What if I started collecting them to make a sweater?” 

Price nods, humoring you. “Darling, please don’t do that.” 

“Why not?” You pout, sticking out your bottom limit. 

“That would be itchy,” He insists. “My beard is already itchy enough. You don’t want to wear it too.” 

You don’t, he’s right. You just wanted to say something to see his face contort. He was so comfortable around you that it made it easy to catch him off guard. And really, a part of you was that obsessed with him. 

“Fair point, I suppose,” You concede. 

He’s surprised you surrender so easily. “You don’t already have a collection going, do you?” 

You laugh, patting his chest. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

He pauses. “No, I would not.” You snuggle closer to him, going back to playing with his beard. His arm drops to your waist, giving it a squeeze. “You’re insane, my dear.” 

You grin up at him, planting a kiss on his lips. “In more ways than one.” 

Price kisses you back, sneaking his hands under your shirt and higher. “Amen.” 

He was never religious, but that man did get on his knees for you.

-- END --

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🏷 taglist: @trxpslxt @looking1016 @the-kakawshi-bird

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

Xiao & Wanderer Anatomy headcannons

Warnings; non-human anatomy, minor body horror (?), NSFW

Xiao ♡

Do not let an adepti's humanistic appearance fool you; They are built completely differently to humans.

On the outside, an adepti can make themselves look relatively human if they so choose. Though they're not hard to spot due to their unnaturally beautiful appearance and intricately made outfits.

If one looked at Xiao hard enough, they'd definitely start to notice his non-human features -- For example; his pointed ears, teeth and nails.

Upon closer inspection, they'd notice his sharp, cat-like irises and lack of pores on his skin. His completion is completely clear of imperfections -- a sign of his above-human nature.

If one removed Xiao's clothing; that's where they'd notice the difference. Adepti do not have nipples or belly buttons -- they have no need for either.

Xiao, of course, knew what they were. He'd been around for a very long time and had observed humans throughout the years -- both clothed and unclothed. He never found them particularly attractive; until you came along.

Xiao finds himself enjoying suckling on your nipples, rubbing and tweaking them between his fingers. He finds them infinitely more exciting than his own flat, bare pectorals.

He does, however, enjoy when you mouth at his chest. He gets an almost phantom feeling of you suckling on his nipples. Nothing makes him wetter.

Another difference in his anatomy is what lies between his legs.

Adepti are not bound by gender and are ever-changing in their forms to suit their needs.

Xiao cares little for human societal norms and finds them rather confusing. Most humans he comes across instinctively refer to him as a male -- which he doesn't particularly mind. But he is also not completely sure what it is about himself that causes them to assume that's what he is. Perhaps it is his voice? His flat chest? He has seen human males naked and knows that what is between his legs is much more similar to that of a human female.

Xiaos form - the one he was 'born' into - is that of a bird. He takes on many traits and behaviours of a bird; such as nesting and collecting trinkets he finds on his travels.

Many millennia ago, Xiao once had great turquoise wings. They were magnificent. Large and powerful. Unfortunately, they were taken by his old master and he still bares the scars on his back from them to this day. They ache and pain him from time to time.

Xiao is particularly protective of his nest. He spent many years crafting it, using only his best materials for it. Being invited into it is a great honor only bestowed to his closest friends (Zhongli) and you - his mate.

Wanderer ♡

The Wanderer was a puppet built by the electro-archon herself. Crafted with care by skillful hands. Only to be discarded in the end.

Wanderer's body was sculpted in the image of the electro archon. Infused with ancient technology and pure elemental power. Despite all this, he is built much like a human.

Wanderers' body is pristine and perfect. He bares not a single scar or blemish. His skin is cold to the touch and he has a much higher tolerance to the temperatures; though he seemingly is able to taste things to a much higher degree than a human can, making him overwhelmed by strong flavours - causing him to prefer things with a subtle taste, such as tea.

Wanderers body had gona through many changes over his years at the fatui. He'd been taken apart and put back together. His parts broken and replaced.

Contrary to the belief of many. Wanderer did feel. He had the same amount of feeling as a human would; perhaps even more. He felt both pleasure and pain the same. Though he was much more used to the feeling of pain.

Wanderer finds himself enjoying the feeling of being held and touched with gentleness. He is so used to being treated roughly by most because they know they can just piece him back together; he enjoys the feeling of being fragile. It makes him feel like he is important and cherished by you.

Do not mistake this as a weakness though. It took him a very long time to appreciate your touch and the pleasure that comes with it. He may act like he doesn't care for it in front of most, but he is always in some sort of physical contact with you; whether it be brushing up against you, feet touching under the table or simply placing his hand over yours when nobody's looking.

Wanderer is beautiful and he knows it. Throughout the years his beauty has deceived people into thinking he was weak. How wrong they were.

Back in his 'youth'. When he had longer hair - he found himself frequently referred to as a woman. Not that he particularly cared. Humans were fickle creatures and he thought their obsession with labeling each other was foolish. Gods were above such things; as was Wanderer.

Nowadays, Wanderer finds himself to be referred to as a man. He finds that with the title of being a male; people are more likely to take him seriously. He can't say he completely understands why either and finds it odd as he has experienced life living as both.

He noticed the change in pronouns once he'd decided to cut his hair short. He didn't understand why his hair was the deciding factor for people when they determined whether or not he was a male or female. Wanderer knew the difference in anatomy between human male and females. Human males had a flat chest an extra appendage, which he did not himself have and human females had larger breasts and a slit between their legs. If wanderer were to categorise himself, he'd probably say he fits into both - but he's not going to do that because he does not care enough to.

During his time with the fatui, the doctor had done many unnecessary experiments on him. One included giving him a penis. Dottore claimed it was what 'men' had and since he's fronting as a man, he should have one. Wanderer disagreed. After experiencing having a penis for himself, he quickly decided it was inconvenient and that whatever he had in his pants didn't define him. He's a god after all. Not long after he was given back his rightful genitals that were taken from him.

While the wanderer's body is pristine and modelled in the likeness of a human, some areas are a dead giveaway that he is not human. Wanderer's back is rarely seen, always covered in the thick material of his clothes. That is because they hide his most sensitive areas beneath them - his access points.

Along Wanderer's back are connection points for tubes and power sources. While Wander doesn't need to be powered manually anymore with the help of his visions elemental power, he still has the ports that were once used to power him. There are 4 small ports on his back and 1 on the back of his neck. His neck is by far his most sensitive place with it also being the area he bares his electro sigil. He comes undone at the lightest touches of them. They are by far one of your favourite things about him - teasingly circling the holes on his back with your finger is one of your favourite things to. A way to get him instantly worked up.

Wrote this after i took my painkillers so i hope this makes sense. Lmk if anyone wants any scenarios involving these headcannons.

Enjoy.

[laurfilijames]

Under His Kutte

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sending a nude photo. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: When Jax forgets his kutte at your house, you make good use of it.

A/N: I am such a slut for this man especially when he wears a hat, and particularly when it's backwards. I stared at this photo for too long and needed to write about it, and with the help from @ramadiiiisme, this happened. Bonus action of The Hat™️ at the end 🫠

---

The same flustered excitement you felt in your stomach every time you saw Jax stirred up again despite having only said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the benefits of him having accidentally left his kutte behind continuing to grace you.

You placed it back on the sofa where he had carelessly discarded it last night, pretending as though you hadn’t seen it there as soon as you walked out of your bedroom earlier that morning, his rush to leave after being woken up by a phone call from Chibs making him forget his most treasured item of clothing.

You sat on the barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup of coffee you had been nursing, smiling into the mug when you heard your door open and Jax strut through it as confidently and comfortably as usual.

“I left my kutte,” he explained, getting right to the point while glancing around your living room quickly, lifting up the blanket and a pillow off of the loveseat before spinning on the spot to begin his search of the sofa.

“Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed,” you lied, your cheeks feeling a flush that was partly from the heat of the coffee but mostly from the sight of Jax. He had his Reaper Crew hat on backwards, sunglasses still on, and the sunshine had kissed the skin on his face to tint it with a healthy pink that was the same whenever he was fucking you.

Finally locating it, Jax held up his vest with a smile before shrugging it on and walking over to you, his smile bright and playful, and you knew his eyes held the same sparkle behind the black lenses that covered them that you could never forget.

He leaned down and kissed you, bracing his arms on either side of your body to land on the countertop and cage you in, forcing your body to arch back into it as he delved his tongue deep inside your mouth.

You hummed when he peeled himself away from you, your eyes feeling heavy with lust as you watched him lick his lips.

“Did you forget it on purpose?” you teased, slipping your hands beneath the leather panels to feel the warmth radiating off his body through his layers of faded shirts.

He chuckled, his hands reaching up to cup your face while he nudged your legs apart with his, standing close to you where he was able to grind his hips against you.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

You giggled when he grinned at you before capturing your lips again, pressing his bulge into your core to make you moan into his mouth, the fervor of your kiss growing with each pass of your tongues.

“Fuck!” he hissed, backing away from you but still holding your face in his hands. “I gotta go.”

You breathed out a disappointed sigh, tilting your head to the side as you watched him step away and try to collect himself, hoping he’d convince himself to stay for a hard and fast fuck.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he dug to answer it immediately, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I said I’ll be right there…Five minutes! Jesus Christ.”

Jax flipped it shut and shook his head as he replaced it back in his pocket, closing the distance between you again with another smile on his face as soon as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you later.” he spoke sweetly, his tone completely different from the one he had just used to whatever poor soul had called him.

You nodded, smiling again as he kissed you once, then again, chuckling when he finally found the strength to stop and back away from you.

He stormed through to the front door in a few long strides, giving you one last grin as he shut the door behind him, and you grinned to yourself as you picked up your phone and sent him the photo you had taken just after he had called you to say he was stopping by.

You listened for the roar of his Harley to start up, feeling giddy as you waited to see if he checked his phone before taking off.

Standing, you walked over to the window, seeing him sitting on his bike looking at his phone with a huge smile on his face.

Your phone rang, his name and number lighting up the screen, and you answered through a smile so big it hurt your cheeks, “Did you forget something else?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, how am I going to focus on anything now?”

“It’s just a little something to get you back here.”

“Like I need the help,” he said pointedly, starting his bike where it purred loudly through both the phone and the walls of your house.

“I’ll be back to deal with you soon,” he both promised and threatened, making heat surge through your body like wildfire.

“See you later, Teller.”

You hung up, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off your smile as you looked at the photo you had sent again, feeling more than satisfied with the reaction it had gotten out of him.

You wore nothing but his kutte, your body that he had already made tired and sore from a sleepless night on full display under his leather, the bare skin on your chest bearing the claiming marks left by his mouth.

He took off quickly, his engine rumbling so loud it vibrated the house and sent a shiver down your spine, and you hoped whatever it was he was going to do was done quickly so he could get back to you soon.

You did everything you could think of to occupy yourself; laundry, dishes, even baked muffins and whipped up a casserole, knowing Jax would be hungry when he got there, or if he wasn’t, that he would be made hungry from all the things you did whenever you were together.

The impatience you felt was beginning to outgrow your arousal, the desperation in wanting to have your hands on him and his on you becoming too much to stand any longer.

Not two minutes later did you hear the distant grumble of his Harley tearing through your neighbourhood, your body conditioned over time to respond to that sound and awaken a neediness and desire that never seemed to be sated.

Even though you expected it, you still jumped when Jax barrelled through the door with a hungry and desperate look on his face as he stared you down while kicking off his white sneakers, his grin sly and crooked.

“Why the fuck aren’t you naked yet?” he panted, crossing the room to get to where you stood waiting for him.

“Isn’t half the fun undressing me?”

“Yeah, but when I’ve been staring at that pic you sent me all day, I kinda want to get to the point,” he explained, his eyebrows lifting upward while he tugged his jeans down to the floor.

He still had his ball cap on, worn with the bill of it facing forward this time, the shade casting on his face making his blue eyes glow like flames in the shadow.

Jax slipped his kutte off, placing it carefully on the back of the sofa as if making a point that he knew where it was or would be needing it again soon, and stepped toward you, tipping his head and giving you a piercing look.

“Now, get naked.”

You obeyed with a grin, crossing your arms to grab at the hem of his ‘SAMCRO’ t-shirt, pulling it over your head where you had the satisfaction of hearing Jax’s breath hitch when your tits became exposed, and tossed it on the floor beside you.

Remaining in your panties, you went to assist him with his clothes, only to have him grip your wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them securely.

“That’s not naked, sweetheart.”

You glared at him as he released you, making a point to slowly hook your thumbs in the waist of them and inch by torturous inch, crept them down your hips.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed impatiently, even though he was still smiling.

A furious look flashed in his eyes when you pulled them back up to their rightful place, challenging what he would do, and you gasped in equal shock and fear when he grabbed onto your thong and tore them roughly down your thighs.

He crashed against your lips, kissing you with a demand that reminded you that he wasn’t playing games, your body flinching when his fingers trailed along your hip and to your soaked pussy.

Spreading your legs further apart, you moaned into his mouth, rocking on his hand as he drove two fingers inside you, hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Within minutes he had you on the edge, fucking you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess ready to completely fall apart, but he stopped his movements and withdrew his hand from you, smirking at you with a smugness that managed to turn you on even more.

“Fuck, Jax,” you hissed, your breathing sharp as an untamed feeling ran through your veins.

“Hang on, darlin’” he drawled, his tone all-too happy considering what he just did to you.

He took off his hat and then tore his shirts off his torso, leaving him in his boxers that did nothing to disguise how large and hard he was, and had he not tugged them off himself, you were seconds away from doing it for him, your need for him increasing to the highest point when his cock sprang free.

“Put the hat back on,” you requested, your voice so lusty it was almost unrecognizable.

You squirmed in place, seeing the surprise in his features as he did as you asked and placed it back over his messy, blond tresses that crept out wildly from under it, his expression turned cocky in knowing how horny you were.

A half-satisfied smile pulled at your lips when he stood up against you, wrapping his arms behind your back where his hands carded up and down, returning your smile.

You leaned back slightly, reaching up to grip the bill of it to spin it around, facing it backwards just as he had worn it earlier.

“Happy now?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Fuck, no!” he admitted jokingly through another laugh, reaching over for his kutte that he hadn’t for a second forgotten about you wearing earlier.

Guiding each of your arms through it, he brought it up to rest on your shoulders, holding onto the edges of its opening as his thumbs moved to rub your nipples until they hardened, making you shiver while a breathy whine passed your lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his mouth so close to you that his lips grazed your parted ones when he spoke.

You let your eyes close, waiting for him to give you the pleasure he was never selfish with, holding your breath until you felt his lips press onto your neck and down over your chest, his hands falling to your waist and then your hip, smoothing over the curve of your bum where he squeezed your flesh and gave it a playful slap.

Your giggle was swallowed when he kissed you, and you felt his own laugh shake through his chest when you brought your hands up to it, sliding them up to cradle his neck and let your fingers dance where his hair brushed along his bare shoulders.

In a swift motion that caught you off-guard, Jax lifted you into his arms, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist where he backed you up against the wall, thudding against the drywall as he pressed his body hard into yours.

Your nails raked across his shoulders and upper back, roaming to tangle in his hair that wasn’t trapped beneath his hat, and when he lined his cock up to your spread pussy and guided himself inside, you pulled at the strands that were woven between your fingers, his reaction to both sensations reverberating in your mouth.

Jax unleashed all his power on you, holding you up while slamming into you aggressively, the photos that hung on your wall rattling and banging with his barbaric movements.

Doing the best you could to move with him, you humped up and down in an effort to rub your clit on the coarse, wheat coloured pubes above his cock, feeling your climax begin to build again where it had been left teetering on the edge.

You caught Jax staring at your exposed tits, his vest having opened to put them fully on display where they bounced to the enthusiasm of his thrusts and your erratic rocking, his pupils blown out wide with lust.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he growled, taking one last look at the erotic scene before meeting his mouth with yours, his kiss sloppy and rough.

A sweat started to break out on both of your bodies, your skin able to slip and glide on his easier with the harder you worked, the hair at the base of his neck damp when you moved your fingers along it.

Jax was always completely enamoured when he fucked you, but for some reason with you wearing his kutte today, he found himself in even more of a state, destroying you with reckless abandon to create the whimpering mess before him that he craved to see, the sounds he pulled from you the sweetest ones he'd ever heard. He was convinced it had something to do with the way his Vice President patch kept swaying beside your right breast as your chest shook in time to his ruthless pace, or the way the worn, faded, black leather and the white on all the labels that had turned dingey over time looked against your supple skin, and the thought of fucking you in it when it ranked him as President one day instead had him ready to explode.

The sense of pride he felt when it came to his club and displaying its logos was something he never took lightly, and seeing them on you intensified it even more, making it seem like no one else could wear them as well as you.

He became almost possessive, wanting to claim you and prove to you all the things he never vocalized all while knowing without hesitation that everything under that piece of leather was his and his only.

He kissed you roughly, not caring that the scruff on his face was turning your skin raw or that his teeth had knocked against yours more than once in his frenzy to get enough of you, feeling your pussy get wetter with every drive of his dick inside it.

“Fucking turn around!” he spat through gritted teeth, giving the order despite forcing you to do it anyway. He dropped your legs and had you spun around and planted against the wall in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to guide you forward, pushing you down so you hinged at your waist and were bent over.

His other hand gripped at your ass to spread your cheeks apart, his cock finding your open cunt without needing any help, slamming into you so hard you had to brace yourself on the wall to stop your face from hitting it.

“God, I’m gonna - fuck! - I’m gonna cum, Jax!” you wailed, your ability to speak properly taken away when he reached around you and started rubbing your clit.

“Yeah?” he huffed, mesmerized in the sight of his glistening cock pumping in and out of you. “You gonna cream all over me, you fucking slut?”

The way he barked that name made you shiver, your mouth filling with saliva to a point you couldn't even contain it anymore, feeling it drool out as your jaw went slack and your climax billowed its way to the surface.

Exhilaration took over you, your moans and cries of approval of how hard Jax was fucking you making him increase his fervor, creating a domino effect of you growing louder and his own moans to sound out and intoxicate you further, the mix of everything so dizzying that it was impossible to imagine a better high.

Jax chuckled behind you, the sound maniacal and deliciously twisted. “That’s it, fuck…”

You let go, accepting the way his body threw you into a trembling orgasm, clenching hard around his cock as he proceeded to pound you mercilessly, hearing his grunts and growls increase in volume and consistency as he honed in on his own end.

He couldn’t look away, watching your combined milky spend leak out of you as he continued to fuck you, your ass cheeks shaking along to his irregular thrusts, the Reaper patch spread out across your back as you took every blow he gave you a sight he would never tire of.

His hand was soaked when he removed it from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth where he sucked them clean, keeping his dick buried inside you until he couldn't anymore.

You closed your eyes as you worked at steadying your breath, your fingers continuing to grip the wall even as you slowly began to straighten your body, feeling full and close to him despite him having slipped from you.

Sweaty handprints temporarily stained the paint when you opened your heavy lids again, smiling at the tingling afterglow that filled your veins, that smile growing bigger when you felt Jax press his lips to your dewy neck where he kissed your sensitive skin with gratitude. You were spun around again, gentler this time, his sweet smile matching yours as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, your hands wrapping around his damp back to help support you as you stood on unreliable legs.

He was heavenly in his post-fuck glow, small beads of sweat dancing just below the edge of his hat, his skin tinged with a pinkish blush from his efforts, his pulse hammering in his neck. His lips looked more inviting than usual, plump and moist, and when his tongue licked across them before dipping to capture yours, you swore your own pulse ceased in its duties.

The way he looked at you when he pulled away after kissing you slowly was curious, a softness and devotion reflecting in his cerulean blues that made your heart beat faster after having just managed to regulate it.

“You look like you've got something to say, Jax,” you breathed, wondering if there would ever be a day that he would say what he felt.

He shrugged, his thumbs stroking your heated face as he tilted his head, looking between your bodies at yours clad in nothing but his kutte, seeing his cum dripping down your thigh.

“I think I'll be leaving this here more often.”

You both laughed as he kissed you again, shuffling forward to push you against the wall where he was able to press his lips to yours as much as he wanted to.

---

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[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 15 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: cursing, mentions of taehyung getting slapped, alcohol, a haunted house (and a clown), fear of someone possibly committing the irreparable, confessions <3, explicit content: implied penetrative sex

☆word count: 7.4k

☆a/n: finally the end of the angst :') hope you guys enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, October 11th

You don’t think you’ve slept. You’ve lied in bed all night, chasing the smell of Jungkook from last night on your sheets. You hoped he’d reappear, materialize here in this room where you and him always made sense, but he stays gone, and you stay alone. 

Lonely, like the moon in the sky up above. 

The morning is grey, colourless. The sun rises like it didn’t care about you and Jungkook, like its heart perhaps never imploded on itself. But yours has, the second you had to watch Jungkook walking out of the door.

He’d closed the door softly behind him, and you’d turned towards Taehyung. You’d seethed, “I fucking hate you”, through your teeth, and Taehyung had offered you a sad, apologetic stare.

“You’ll understand that this is the best for you,” he’d said, and you’d walked up to him and slapped him, hard enough for your hand to sting.

He’d taken it, barely even flinching, and as his cheek had reddened, you’d said, “You should have fucking stayed in Paris.”

And then you’d fled to your room, and he’d let you do it.

It was the first time you’ve ever slapped him - or anyone, for that matter - and you really hope it’ll be the last. Perhaps because it came from such ugly feelings, from heartbreak and betrayal and everything in between, and it raged through you only to leave a pathetic shrivelled shape behind.

You’d meant it last night - you miss Jungkook. And you miss him more than ever now, as you’re faced with the irreversibility of your falling out.

Ariane came back home after you’ve gone to bed last night. You heard her walking in, heard her speaking to Taehyung in the living room before the sounds faded as they moved to their room. And as you lied there, you’d wondered, why did Taehyung even come back home so early?

Why couldn’t he stay at the movie theatre long enough for you and Jungkook to fix your relationship? Long enough to have that much needed conversation, long enough so you’d never said that last night was a lapse of judgment?

You regretted the words the moment they were out. You don’t think you truly meant them - yesterday night was heaven on Earth, a step out of time to a past you were trying to move on from.

This morning, you know you’ll never be able to move on from Jungkook. Not when your feelings for him were strong enough to make you hate the one person who always cared for you, who always was there for you growing up.

Because with the grey light of dawn you realize that you do truly hate Taehyung. You don’t think you’ll be able to see him again without blowing up in his face, so you remain hidden in your room as he and Ariane get up. He doesn’t text you if you want breakfast, doesn’t say anything at all.

You think it’s a relief - you don’t have it in you to fight anymore.

Jungkook hasn’t texted you either. You’ve debated sending him a message for most of the night, but you haven’t figured out what. You reckon he might need space after last night, after the roller coaster of emotions that everything was, and so you think it might be okay if you haven’t texted him yet.

You rub the tiredness out of your eyes, sighing deeply as the sounds in the apartment fade when Taehyung and Ariane leave for their morning classes. You get out of bed then, putting on clothes before you head to the kitchen.

Taehyung left you a plate of eggs and bacon on the table, with a scribbled note next to it. I’m sorry is all that’s written, and you wonder if Ariane forced him to write it.

It’s unlike Taehyung to ever apologize for anything after all. You crumple the piece of paper, throw it out in the recycling bin, and then eat the food even though it’s gone cold since Taehyung left it there. It’s still food, and though your appetite doesn’t show up, you still manage to eat half of it.

You text Nabi that you won’t make it to class before heading back to your room, the heaviness of everything that happened in the last twelve hours catching up to you. You feel bone-deep exhausted, and you hide underneath the covers of your bed, tears pricking at your eyes.

It’s nothing new - you’ve been crying on and off since Jungkook left last night, and that, most of all, must have been the reason why sleep evaded you all night long.

You grab your phone, quickly moving to your text message app. You find Jungkook’s conversation, rereading his text from September.

[09/08/24] JK: hey.. do you want to talk?

You’d ignored it then, but today, you find yourself in his position. Find yourself writing a message similar to the one he’d sent, and you reread it a thousand times before you find the courage to press send.

[9:37 am] You: i’m sorry about what i said last night. can we talk?

Anxiety flushes through you as the message delivers. It’s adrenaline in your blood, and you remain on the conversation for five minutes, hoping Jungkook might reply right away.

He doesn’t. As a matter of fact, he doesn’t reply all morning, and you busy yourself by going back to the dorms, not wanting to stay at the apartment knowing that Taehyung is going to come back eventually. 

You find the dorm room to be empty, which you reckon is a relief. You don’t think you’d have the strength to see anyone right now, not when the exhaustion is almost enough to make you crumple on yourself.

You end up taking a nap for most of the afternoon, waking  up drenched in sweat from a nightmare you forget the second your eyes open.

Perhaps the presence of Nabi and Ria, sitting on Ria’s bed next to you, contributes to your forgetfulness after all.

“Morning,” Ria teases.

You frown, shutting your eyes again as you hide your face in Nabi’s pillow. “Morning,” you mumble in reply.

“Why’d you miss class this morning?” Nabi asks.

You let out a noncommittal sound.

The mattress dips next to you as someone sits there. “What’s wrong?” Ria asks.

The tears are spilling over a second later, and you tell them everything. You tell them how your conversation with Ria yesterday inspired you to do the same thing with Jungkook, but that you never got the chance to tell him how you feel. You tell them about Taehyung, about Jungkook leaving without a single look back. You tell them about the text that sits unanswered on your phone, and you tell them you’re tired, oh so tired.

Ria runs a soothing hand on your back through it all, while Nabi says she’ll go buy ice cream. You sit with Ria in silence for a while, before glancing at her.

“I hope things went better between you and Seokjin,” you say, voice rough from all the crying you’ve done.

She offers you an apologetic smile. “It did. But we don’t have to speak about it right now.”

You take a deep breath, wiping your cheeks dry even though you haven’t shed a tear in a few minutes. “No,” you say after. “Tell me everything. I just need to stop thinking about Jungkook for a while.”

There’s a knock on the door, startling the two of you. Ria throws you a quizzical look and then gets up to open the door. 

Yoongi’s on the other side, a six-pack of beer in hands. “Nabi said to meet you guys here,” he says to Ria, then looks behind her to see you sitting on the bed. You must look like hell, because he lets out, “Shit.” 

It makes you laugh, and then you pat the bed next to you. “No clue if beer mixes well with ice cream, but come here.”

Yoongi grins, and then he walks in, kicking off his shoes. Turns out beer does not mix well with ice cream, as you find out half an hour later when Nabi’s returned with a one-liter tub of vanilla ice cream with fudge ripples in it.  The two tastes clash in your mouth, but you shrug it off.

It’s Friday evening, and though Jungkook still hasn’t replied, you want to have fun with your friends. And you really try to - Ria drags you all to a board game bar near campus, and you play as you drink and eat your fill.

You’re walking home, arms hooked with the girls while Yoongi leads the way, when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You can’t see who’s texted you, but your heart picks up its pace, like it knows.

“Thank you for tonight,” you say to no one in particular.

Yoongi looks over his shoulder. “You suck at board games.”

He bursts out laughing as you let out an offended sound, and Ria and Nabi pull you back as you try to jump on Yoongi. 

“You’re a dick!”

He just laughs harder, until everyone joins in. 

Until joy pierces the clouds in your mind, and weight seems to be lifted from your shoulders. You feel lighter - who needs a man when you have your friends?

“For real though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Nabi rests her head on your shoulder. “Good thing that you don’t have to live without us.”

“You’re such a sentimental drunk,” Ria teases, yet she pecks your cheek all the same. “Love you, bitch.”

“Love you too.”

Later, when you’re about to hop in the shower at the dorms, you finally look at your phone. You’d all but forgotten the earlier buzzing, but the message that waits for you is a bomb awaiting explosion, and you think it explodes right in your chest.

[11:26 pm] JK: i honestly don’t think we should talk rn. sorry

You swallow the rumbles of your beating organ, but they cut on the way down until you’re bleeding out standing there, naked save for the flip flops on your feet.

The clouds come back to your head, thickening until all light seems gone.

[11:58 pm] You: okay… i really am sorry

Jungkook never replies to that, and you cry yourself to sleep that night.

Sunday, October 13th 

Each year like clockwork a fair comes into town around Halloween. It’s a fair of light and music, games and plush toys to be won, with a haunted house and a corn maze. It’s not exactly in town - it’s a fifteen-minute drive from the outskirts of town, but Namjoon has a car, and so does Seokjin.

You technically do too, but you left it to Taehyung when you moved to the dorms. 

You get there with Nabi and Namjoon, Yoongi riding in the backseat with you. Ria and Seokjin are going to get there later, which you think is a good thing.

They have months of catching up to do, and you can’t blame them for wanting to be alone. Especially not when you see just how much Ria has been glowing the last few days.

You have to park the car in a field, and you’re glad you chose to wear your frat party shoes - the field is muddy from yesterday night’s rain. Nabi complains about it, and Namjoon immediately offers her a piggyback ride to cross a large puddle of mud.

You turn to Yoongi.

“Can I piggyback you too?” you ask, lips jutting out in a small pout.

He snorts. “No.”

You roll your eyes, though you chuckle as he walks around the puddle as best as he can. It’s useless - there’s mud everywhere, and your shoes are entirely dirty by the time you make it to the fair grounds. You head to the ticket booth, though you have to wait in line for a while before you manage to finally get in.

“I want a plushie,” you say the second you see the first game a little while later.

It’s a game where you have to throw rings on the necks of glass bottles. Your friends follow you to it, and you’re quick to make a competition of who’s going to succeed the most. To your surprise, it ends up being Nabi, and she wins a small dragon plushie that she gives to you immediately.

You cradle it to your chest as you make your way to the next game, though your heart drops to your ass when your gaze connects with Taehyung’s as he stands next to the stand.

“Nope,” you let out, turning around to head in the other direction.

“What?” Yoongi asks, but he soon falls into step with you. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Just saw my asshole of a brother, and I have no interest in talking to him tonight,” you explain as your heart races in your chest from newfound adrenaline. “Or ever, to be honest.”

Yoongi winces. “Can’t blame you.” He looks behind you, nudging you with an elbow. “We’re clear though. He didn’t follow.”

You nod, stopping to glance behind yourself too. Nabi and Namjoon are nowhere to be seen, but you think it’s okay - at least you’ve got Yoongi. And Yoongi is a fun partner, though he beats you in most of the games you end up playing with him. He makes you laugh, and you think that’s what’s most important right now.

To have fun with your friends, lest your heart runs back to a doe-eyed boy who’s decided to leave you in the past.

“Want to do the haunted house?” you suggest to Yoongi.

He seems unconvinced, yet he still says, “Sure.”

Seokjin and Ria find you in line for the haunted house, joining you in the middle while apologizing to the people behind you, though they barely even pay attention to you. You hold a smile in at the sight of their entwined hands, and you nudge Yoongi to point towards it.

He rolls his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The smile freezes on his face a second later, and you glance in the direction he’s looking.

It’s the guy from the reception at the gym. He recognizes you, and you wave hello as Yoongi turns beet red next to you.

“Want to go talk to him?” you say, wiggling your brows.

“You say a single other word, and I’m going to murder you,” Yoongi says through gritted teeth.

“Damn,” Ria lets out. “Someone’s angry.”

Yoongi scoffs, though his cheeks remain fully flushed up until you make it to the front of the line. It fades when you walk into the haunted house, though you think it might be because a clown jumps in his face the second you walk in.

Yoongi raises his fists in a defensive stance, and you burst out laughing as the clown moves to Ria, who shrieks so loud you wouldn’t be surprised if she ripped your eardrums.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to punch them,” you tease Yoongi.

He glares at you in the dim light. “Maybe I should punch you.”

“Try me bitch.”

At that he laughs, and then tension finally goes out of his shoulders. You spend the rest of the haunted house startling whenever someone jumps in front of you, letting out small shrieks that are entirely shadowed by Ria’s screams. Seokjin doesn’t fare any better, and you and Yoongi make fun of them, so much so you find yourself wiping happy tears from your eyes when you finally walk outside again.

“Never doing one of these again,” Seokjin deadpans, which only makes you and Yoongi laugh again.

Ria punches his shoulder. “You were supposed to protect me.”

“I was scared too!” Seokjin lets out, massaging the spot she hit. “I don’t ever do haunted houses!”

The two of them start bickering, though the teasing twinkle in their eyes tells you that it’s all in good fun. And it’s beautiful to see, though you can tell Seokjin is not all the way in yet.

You can’t blame him - Ria did lead him on for a while. But you can only hope that they’ll make it despite everything. When he throws an arm around her shoulder to pull her in, kissing the top of her head, you reckon they will.

If anyone makes it through the college experience without breaking up, it’ll be them, and Nabi and Namjoon. At least you hope so.

You meet up with Nabi and Namjoon when you go to the area where multiple food stands have been erected. You and Yoongi get corn dogs, only because you haven’t eaten them in forever and you feel like indulging tonight.

Like forgetting that, three days ago, you broke your heart and Jungkook’s heart with words you didn’t mean, all because your brother took you by surprise while you were with Jungkook.

Speaking of Taehyung, you notice him on the other side of the food court-like area, surrounded by his group of friends. He sees you, waving halfheartedly at you like he expects you might have forgiven him already.

You haven’t. As a matter of fact, the sight of him out and about enjoying himself after he caused Thursday’s heartbreak makes you hate him even more, and you turn away from him to focus on your friends’ conversation. But you can’t join in - your thoughts have run back to Thursday, to the feeling of Jungkook’s gentle hands all over you as you’d had sex, and then as you’d taken a shower together.

Your thoughts run back to your love confessions, that you both didn’t register because you were too angry, too caught up in the moment. But you know he said he fell in love with you, just like you did with him.

And that, most of all, is the reason why you hate Taehyung. Because no amount of loving Jeon Jungkook could save the relationship when your brother was so keen on destroying it. 

You take a deep breath as heaviness settles on you, and Nabi sidles closer to you, nudging you gently.

“Don’t think about it right now,” she whispers for just you to hear. 

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “It’s hard.”

“I know,” she gently says. “I know it’s hard, and I know you probably wish you weren’t here right now. But this is a good distraction, no? You loved it last year.”

You did. You’d ended up coming here four times before the fair closed shop for the year, and each time you had had the time of your life, messing around with your friends with not a single care for the world around you.

Needless to say, you’ve lost that unbothered attitude now, the frivolity of it completely forgotten.

You sigh, meeting Nabi’s gaze for a few seconds. “I’m trying. It doesn’t help that Taehyung is here, though.”

“You want me to go kick his ass?” Nabi asks. You chuckle, and a smile tickles at the corner of your lips. Nabi grins at the sight of it. “You’re going to be okay,” she promises. “We’ll make sure of it.”

You can only hope that she’s right.

After eating, you all head to the maze. You team up with the girls, racing the boys to the end. Evidently you get lost, and you manage to laugh around with your friends even through the heaviness on your shoulders. You’re lost somewhere in the middle of the maze when your phone rings in your purse with three incoming text messages.

You reckon you know who texted you. Considering that all of your friends are here with you tonight, there’s only one person you think could have texted you.

So you stop walking, Ria and Nabi stopping a step ahead of you, and you pull your phone out of your purse, heart dropping to your ass.

[7:27 pm] JK: hey so i’ve been thinking and there’s some stuff i need to get off my chest [7:27 pm] JK: sorry for the long message [7:28 pm] JK: I want to apologize for everything. I’m sorry, so sorry that I couldn’t make it work. I’m sorry Paris happened, I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you right away. I wish I’d been, maybe we’d be together now. But I had to fuck it up, multiple times honestly and I think it’s proof that I definitely am not ready to be in a relationship. I wanted to try tho, I really did. I think you and I could have been something great. And lately I’ve been wondering if, maybe we made it in another universe. Like… I can’t accept that there’s no universes out there where we make it, you know? Because I really love you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you and you ran into me. I fell for you the second I saw you, and then I found out you were Tae’s sister, and the rest is history. But I wanted you to know it, to know that I love you and that I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I fucked it up. I’d take everything back if I could, I’d save you the heartbreak, but life doesn’t work that way. so yeah… i’m really sorry peach… I hope we can make it in the next life

You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe for a whole minute as you reread again and again, and Ria and Nabi stand next to you, asking what’s wrong. You can’t say anything - you think your heart has stopped beating altogether.

You hand your phone to Ria, and she and Nabi read the messages while tears prick at your eyes, adrenaline flushing through you.

“Holy fuck,” Ria curses under her breath, and she meets your gaze. “Y/n, do you know where he is?”

You don’t. You have no clue where he’s gone to hide after he left Thursday, and you think you might be sick. “I don’t know,” you answer. “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Tears fall from your eyes, and you grab your phone, immediately pressing on the call button. It goes to voicemail right away, and you choke on a sob as Nabi grabs your arm, pulling you behind her.

You were almost at the end of the maze, luckily, and the second you’re out you take off, your friends yelling your name behind you. Apparently, the boys made it out first, because there’s a chorus of ‘What is going on?’ as you run back towards the last place where you saw Taehyung.

Your brother is not there, and though you’re out of breath, you sprint down another alley, where a bunch of artists sell paintings and bracelets and everything in between. You try calling Jungkook again, but it once again goes to voicemail.

You’re about to throw up. You’ll fucking throw up your corn dog, you’ll fucking lose him, irreparably. The fear takes hold of you, sweeps through you until you’re shaking, tears falling freely like they have a mind of their own. You can barely think around the loud beats of your heart, around the sound of the blood gushing into your ears. 

You can’t think around the thought that Jungkook is about to hurt himself.

“Y/n!” Namjoon says behind you, and you spin around to see he’s the only one who managed to follow you. Your other friends are just now turning into the alley, and they rush towards you.

“Where’s my brother?” you ask, and you choke on another sob.

Taehyung is likely the only person here who might know where Jungkook is.

Namjoon looks over his shoulder as Ria skids to a halt next to you. “I don’t know,” he answers, and you almost want to punch him.

How is he so intelligent and doesn’t fucking know that?

“Have you guys seen Taehyung?” you ask your other friends as they all stop next to you. “I need to find him.”

They all nod, and you disperse throughout the fair, searching for your brother.

“Why don’t you call him?” Yoongi asks, and you startle - you didn’t notice he’d followed you.

And you find yourself stupid for not thinking about it before. Instead of trying to call Jungkook again - you’ve been trying constantly since you received his messages - you go to Taehyung’s contact, calling him.

He picks up on the third ring. “Finally talking to me?” he drawls.

“Where are you?” you ask.

He must hear the panic in your voice, because he answers, “In line for the haunted house. Is something wrong?”

You hang up, not replying, instead sprinting towards the haunted house. You indeed find Taehyung next to it, though he’s not in line anymore, like he knew you’d come see him.

“Where’s Jungkook?” you ask, the panic in your voice so stark you see the colours fading from his features.

“Why?”

“Where the fuck is Jungkook?” you repeat, and tears once again roll on your cheeks.

Ariane steps closer to you, resting a hand on your arm. “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You break down. You fully break down, hiding your face in your hands. Yoongi explains the situation while Ariane pulls you into a hug, and you cry on her shoulder, clutching the fabric of her sweater - Taehyung’s sweater - as if that'll stop you from breaking.

“He’s at home,” Taehyung says, pulling you from Ariane’s arms. “He’s at home, Y/n. Let’s go.”

You nod, and you both take off, leaving Ariane and Yoongi behind. They don’t try to follow, clearly sensing that this is something you and Taehyung need to do alone. 

You’re frantic on the ride home, one leg bouncing up and down as Taehyung drives, and you urge him to go faster.

“It won’t do us any good if we get in an accident before getting home,” Taehyung answers, but you notice he does accelerate.

“Should we call the police?” you ask when you stop at a red light.

It only then occurs to you that you might walk in to find Jungkook hurt.

“We’re almost there,” Taehyung says gently. 

You are. You’d likely get there before the police would.

You’re crying again, the panic and terror swimming through your blood so loud you can’t think anymore.

You don’t know what you’ll do if Jungkook hurt himself. If you get home to find him…

You don’t dare finish the thought.

It feels like an eternity before Taehyung finally parks the car near the apartment, and you’re flying out of it before it’s gone to a full stop. Taehyung doesn’t comment, and you’re sprinting faster than ever, climbing up the stairs to your apartment in a record time. You try the door, but it’s locked, and you curse as you search through your purse, but you don’t have the keys.

You don’t have the keys.

“I got you,” Taehyung says as he reaches the top of the stairs, keys already in hand.

He unlocks the door in no time, and the second it’s open you crash in, skidding to a halt as you scan the apartment with your gaze. The door to the bathroom is open, revealing that it’s empty. So is the kitchen, but light filters from underneath Jungkook’s bedroom door.

You run to the door, push it open as your heart beats so fast you’ll likely go into cardiac arrest.

Jungkook is sitting in front of his gaming PC, and he turns his head towards you, gaze going wide at the sight of your distressed state.

“You came?” he lets out.

You just stand there, watching him. Taking in the sight of him, alive and unharmed, playing computer games like he always does. It’s enough to make you break down again, and you fold on yourself, tears streaming down your face. 

“I uh…” Taehyung trails off from behind you. “I’ll let you guys talk.”

Soft footsteps move towards you, and gentle hands pull you up and inside the room. You don’t see anything through the blinding waterfall in your eyes, and all you can do is sob harder when you’re pulled into someone’s arms.

Jungkook’s arms. They wrap around you, strong and steady, holding you close to him. Your fists clench on the fabric of his oversized white t-shirt, and you cry as you rest your forehead on his chest.

He holds you as all the anxiety rushes out of you in the form of endless tears, and you just cry and cry, the relief that he’s safe and sound so intense you feel whiplash. 

Eventually, Jungkook makes you sit down on his bed, and he gently takes off your shoes. He then lies next to you, pulling you down, and you rest your head on his chest, the flow of tears finally slowing down.

It comes to a full stop when Jungkook kisses the top of your head, his arms around you momentarily tightening.

“You’re an idiot,” you say, voice raucous from all the crying.

“I assume this is about the message I sent you?”

You frown, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are red-rimmed, and you only then realize that he’s been crying with you all along. “Gosh, Kook,” you let out, fresh tears welling up in your eyes, but you manage to blink them away. “I thought you were going to hurt yourself.”

“Oh.” He worries at his piercings for a few seconds, then adds, “I wasn’t.”

“You sounded like you were.”

His eyebrows almost touch over his eyes. “Oh?”

“‘I hope we can make it in the next life’” you narrate. “Doesn’t that sound like what someone would say before…” you trail off, unable to say the words, the fear still impacting you despite the fact that you’re realizing he was never in any danger.

He winces. “Now that you say it like that, I guess it does sound bad.” He scrunches up his nose. “Sorry?”

“Fuck,” you curse. “Jungkook.”

“I really am sorry, I didn’t want to worry you,” he insists. He pulls you down, forcing you to rest your head back on his chest. “I just wanted to tell you how I feel. And I knew I’d say it wrong if we were talking face to face, so I just put everything down in that message.” He chuckles, though you hear him gulp. “I wrote it all in my notes app before sending it to you.” He pauses, and his lips ghost the top of your head. “My therapist said I should write down how I feel, and reading it after, I realized I wanted you to know too.”

Your hand is resting on his abdomen, and you shift it until it’s wrapped around him, pulling his body closer.

“I love you too, Jungkook,” you whisper. “Maybe not for as long as you… but I love you too.”

“I know,” he murmurs in the same tone. “I know, peach.”

You blink away the new onslaught of tears that threatens to spill on your cheeks, and coincidentally on his shirt. “We do need to talk, though.”

“I know.”

You take a deep breath, trying to find courage. As if speaking to Jungkook is scary, dangerous.

But then again, this is just Jungkook. This is the man who took care of you when you were upset on Valentine’s Day, who took care of you at every party you attended last semester.

This is the man who was ready to lose his friendship with his best friend if that meant having you. And you realize then that there’s nothing to be scared about. It’s just you and Jungkook.

It was always going to be you and Jungkook, wasn’t it?

“I’m sorry too,” you admit. “For being so afraid of Taehyung’s reaction. And I wasn’t wrong to be.” You lift your head to eye the purple-turning-to-yellow mark on his cheek. It’s streaked with a linear scab, where the punch cut his skin. “I can’t believe he punched you.”

“I was expecting it.”

You look a little higher, meeting his gaze. “Why didn’t you try to stop him?”

His Adam’s apple bobs and he takes a deep breath. “I thought I deserved it.”

“Jungkook…”

“I did,” he affirms. “Did you know he told me not to touch you, ever, before I even met you?”

You frown. “That sounds like Taehyung.”

“Yeah…” Jungkook takes another deep breath, and you move your hand to hold his shoulder, thumb ghosting on the side of his neck. “And yet I did.”

“I’m happy that you did,” you whisper. “All the time we spent together last semester… I loved it, you know? I really fell for you.”

“I’m lucky you did,” he replies, and he pecks the top of your head. “But then again I treated you like shit. I should have pushed Gabrielle away before she even kissed me. But I just thought I was helping her.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “I stopped being upset with you about it the second she told me everything.” You hold him a little tighter for a few seconds. “She was rooting for us, you know?”

Jungkook nods. “I know. She told me.” He sighs, and his lips brush the top of your head again, as if he’s trying to anchor you here.

To anchor himself here, with you, just lying in his bed, slowly forgetting the world.

“I’m sorry about Lisa,” he adds after a few beats of silence. “I really didn’t expect you to ever show up like that.”

“I should have texted you first,” you say as your heart clenches in your chest at the memory of Lisa in his shirt, of every scene of them together you imagined during your countless sleepless nights. “You had every right to try to move on with someone, you know?”

“But you didn’t,” he points out. “I should have held out for longer.”

“Jungkook,” you say sternly, lifting your head to meet his gaze again. “You couldn’t have known that I’d come back. You had the right to move on.”

His gaze is lined with silver, big doe eyes shining softly in the dim light from his PC monitor, and from the LED lights strung all around his room. They shine a gentle yellow tonight, so unlike the red you’re used to.

“I’m still sorry about it,” he murmurs, lower lip quivering.

“Stop,” you whisper, cupping his cheek. “Stop, Kook. I can’t lie and say that it didn’t hurt, but I was never mad at you for it. Not even for a single second.”

“I don’t deserve you,” he says, and tears spill from his eyes.

You’re quick to dry them with your thumb. “It’s not a question about who deserves who or what,” you say, and you move until you can pull his face into your chest. “It’s never been about that.”

“But I don’t deserve you.” He chokes on the words, and you run a hand through his hair, massaging his scalp soothingly.

“You do,” you say. “You really do, Jungkook. You were here for me all those months. You treated me well despite Taehyung being a concern, despite the fact that I never really fully gave myself to you because of him.” You blink away the wetness in your gaze. “You deserve me because you love me,” you add, and your heart warms in your chest.

It only occurs to you then how real the feelings are. They’ve always been there, always been strong, but now they have a name, and you think it’s the most beautiful name in the universe.

You were right to chase cars around his head, after all.

“You deserve me because you love me,” you repeat, “and because I love you.”

“I do love you,” he says softly. “I really do.”

You can’t help yourself - every single second of your life has led to this moment. You pull away, and he looks up at you as you lean forward. As you softly press your lips on his, and as you swallow the soft sigh he lets out. You kiss him gently, your heart syncing with his, the cars now chasing themselves around both of your heads.

And you do forget the world, as you kiss him. It’s just you and him, like it’s always been meant to be. Just you and Jeon Jungkook, and your souls fusing into one. And maybe the three words aren’t enough, maybe ‘I love you’ can’t convey everything that you feel for Jungkook, but you reckon you have an eternity in front of you to demonstrate the feelings, in all of their glory.

And you kiss for your own little eternity, not ever falling into desire and passion territory. You ride the wave of the love between you and Jungkook - a gentle wave, like those a soft breeze summons on the surface of a lake in the summer. No, you just kiss with all of the love you share, and it burns brighter than the moon ever could, rivalling the Sun.

You wonder, do the stars see you shining in the sky outside? Do they know of the love that was born between you and Jungkook all those months ago?

The kiss ends gently, much like it started. Your eyelids flutter open to meet Jungkook’s soft gaze, and you take in the emotions swirling in the depths of his eyes, reflecting those in yours.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

He frowns slightly. “For what?”

“For telling me how you felt,” you reply. “For sending that message, even though I misinterpreted the end.”

He offers you a small smile, his lips barely curving upwards yet his eyes shining bright. “You deserved to know.”

“And you deserved to know that it’s all reciprocated,” you say. “I’m in love with you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The sparkles in his eyes explode into the most beautiful fireworks. “You’re getting cheesy on me,” he teases.

“And what about it?”

He pulls you down in another kiss, though this time it’s much shorter, more a quick peck than a deep love confession.

“I like it,” he admits. “Be as cheesy as you want.”

“I will be,” you promise, eyes twinkling with mischief.

His answering laugh is oh so healing, and you use it to cure the wounds on your heart.

To cure those on his heart, too.

“I do need to say,” you say a few minutes later, after you’ve laid your head back on his chest, “that I’m sorry about what I said to Taehyung Thursday. It was never a lapse of judgment, and I really don’t know why I said that.”

“It really hurt,” Jungkook admits, and you hold him tighter, trying to erase the past. “But at the same time, I do get why you said it. You were just trying to get Taehyung off our backs.”

“I was, but it wasn’t the right way to do it,” you say. “It was stupid, and hurtful, and I really didn’t mean it at all.”

“It’s okay.” Jungkook’s mouth brushes the top of your head, and he adds in a whisper, “It’s okay.”

You don’t think it is, but then again, there’s a lot of things you need to leave in the past if you want to be able to move forward with him.

You both made mistakes, a lot of them, but holding onto them won’t bring you anywhere positive.

“You know,” Jungkook says. “I suck at relationships.”

You lift your head to meet his gaze. “You don’t.”

“No, but I do,” he insists. “I’ve never had a real girlfriend. As you know, Gabrielle was just… a cover?”

“Yeah…” you trail off, resting your head on his chest again. “Did you guys ever…”

He chuckles. “Yeah. Once, when we were seventeen. She said she couldn’t really know if she was gay if she didn’t try having sex with a guy once.”

“How did that go?”

You hear the wince in Jungkook’s tone as he says, “Poorly. It was my first time, and hers too obviously, and it was entirely shit.”

You laugh, patting his chest. “Don’t worry, you’ve gotten a lot better.”

“Oh did I now?” Jungkook teases and he pushes you off his chest, forcing you to lie on your back so that he can climb over you.

Your laugh turns into a giggle as he hides his face in your neck, his breath tickling you, and you retaliate by tickling his sides.

He bursts out laughing, falling on the side next to you. “How dare you!”

You rest your hand on his stomach, stopping him before he can climb on top of you again. “I want to know more,” you say, falling serious.

He cocks an eyebrow, his grin slowly fading. “Know more?”

“About you,” you say. “I feel like I don’t know a lot about you, despite all the time we spent together.”

Maybe because there always were too many secrets between you and Jeon Jungkook. 

But not anymore, not ever again.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

“Everything.”

He widens his gaze, laughing softly. “It’s going to take the whole night.”

“I don’t care,” you insist. “I want to know everything that makes you, you.”

He wets his lips, toying with his piercings. “And do I get to know more about you, too?”

You nod forcefully. “I’ll answer every question.”

There’s a silence as you just share a look, until Jungkook turns on his back, looking up at the ceiling. You just stare at his profile, wondering what question he’ll ask first.

“We should go on a date,” he says, taking you by surprise. He looks at you again, before adding, “On a real, proper date. Like in the movies. And then you could ask me all your questions.”

You snort. “You want to go on a date with me?”

“Of course,” he says. “Friday night at eight pm. Wear your best clothes.”

“You’re deadass?”

He narrows his gaze at you. “Yes? Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrug, cheeks dusting with pink. “Does that mean that we’re…”

“That we’re?” Jungkook presses when you never finish the sentence.

“That we’re dating?”

Your heart beats out of your chest at the question - it holds the weight of the universe. Two hours ago, you would have never believed you’d get to ask Jungkook that, ever.

Yet here you are, and when his gaze fills with all the warmth of love and summer days and everything in between, you know the answer.

“Well…” he trails off. “If you want to. We can also take it slow if you prefer?”

“What about a little bit of both?”

Jungkook chuckles. “How would that work?”

“I mean…” You lie on your back, looking up at the ceiling as you search for the right words to say. “As you said, you suck at relationships, and so do I. So maybe we can learn along the way? Do things the right way this time around?”

He’s smiling when you turn your head to look at him again. “Yes,” he agrees. “One day at a time.”

The kiss that follows starts slowly, softly, gently, but it escalates quickly, led by the lingering fear that you could have lost him tonight. It burns with passion, Jungkook’s tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a breathy sound as he climbs back on top of you, his knee parting your legs.

You wrap them around his waist to hold him closer, your arms snaking around his neck. 

It’s all kisses and soft moans and whispered confessions until you’re naked, entwined, your bodies joined in the most intimate of ways. Jungkook muffles your moans with his lips on yours, and you pour all of your love into the kisses, in the way your hips lift to meet his.

When Jungkook climaxes, you hold him even closer - you’d be dumb to let him go. Not when it was always meant to be him. Not when your love for him is growing, flourishing inside of your heart, of your soul, to form the most beautiful garden.

A garden of you and him, of feelings shared and confessed, of yearning and longing that only led to this beauty. To this moment of you and him together - to this first moment of you and him together of the long list that will follow.

And later, before you fall asleep in his embrace, you whisper against his skin, “I love you.”

He whispers it back, and the reciprocity of the feelings shines on you through the night, like it will shine on you from this day on until you dwindle into stardust, to be carried on a wind of eternity.

Prev | Chapter 15.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

I told you the angst was almost over :') which is good, bc there's only two chapters left. I hope this one managed to heal you guys a little, tho it started off sad. The last two chapters are for healing but first, what did you guys think of this one?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[woozyvee]

fried eggs and pillow talk

　　　　　　　　　　　( felix x female reader )

genre: coworkers au, smut, fluff.

word count: 5.4k

synopsis: it's not like you meant to fall for the charms of the office flirt and follow him home after a night out with your coworkers. either way, you are now left to deal with the consequences.

author's note: hyunjin is felix's roommate. stayed up past 4am to finish this bitch because fuck sleeping, amirite? (i'm not). anyway, enjoy!!

Pounding, piercing, disorienting pain.

For a good few seconds, that is all there is. You realize that this sensation is concentrated to your head. No, actually, your stomach, too.

After a few moments more, you remember that you have other senses, as well, which allow you to feel your sweat dampening the sheets embracing you and to hear the melodic songs of birds outside.

Lastly, you're struck with the idea that you possess the ability to open your eyes. It kind of makes the ache sizzling within you a little angrier and so you have to struggle some to pry your lids apart, but you eventually succeed. Though, as soon as you do, an expanding part of you wishes you hadn't.

Because you're met with a familiar mess of blond, frizzy hair.

In the same way that the early morning sunrays sting your eyes, memories from the previous evening come pouring in to sting your brain. You drown in flashing impressions of Felix's toothy smile as he buys you a drink, his hand holding yours as you stumble through the bar and past the prying eyes of your coworkers, his breath against your mouth as he swallows your moans while he fucks you into his sticky sheets.

Oh god. No no no.

You feel yourself freefall into awareness, stomach turning as you fully awaken into your grueling hangover, head pounding in time with your heartbeat and room spinning slightly. Or maybe you're still drunk, you can't tell. It doesn't help to sit up but it's an instinct, as you dizzily try to assess your surroundings.

Clothes are scattered messily across the floor - you're naked, he's naked. Felix's shoulders rise and fall steadily where he lies with his back facing you - he's asleep. The sun is bright outside, casting the room in a white, blinding glow - the busses have definitely started their schedule for the day. You remember Felix telling you his roommate is out of town - you could make your escape unnoticed. Your stomach grumbles, bubbling uncomfortably - you need to use the bathroom.

Having determined your first quest in the escape plan, you slowly uncover yourself from the duvet, standing up on unsteady feet. Your hands shoot upward to cradle your throbbing headache, eyes squinting to find your way into the bathroom as you try to ignore waves of nausea that threaten to pull you under with every other step you take.

It takes a distressing amount of time to settle your upset stomach, eyes closed to concentrate on not throwing up and feet planted firmly against the floor to prevent yourself from falling off the toilet and onto the cold, tiled floor. As you stand up, you swear gravity shifts and you grip the toilet to maintain your balance. For a moment, you seriously consider not flushing to decrease the risk of Felix waking up from the sound but quickly realize that it's a ridiculous thought and press the button, your headache pulsing in time with the loud noise.

What meets you in the mirror is nothing short of a walking, talking, swollen monstrosity and you quickly look away, cringing. After washing your hands and splashing your face with some cool water to counter the beads of sweat traveling down your forehead, you make your way back into the bedroom.

You release a breath you didn't realize you were holding when you see Felix, still unmoving atop his bed. Your narrow glare jumps between the articles of clothing spread around the floor. It is time to let the second quest in your escape plan commence.

It is certainly easier said than done to crouch down and pick your strewn-about clothes up when your sense of balance is thrown completely out of whack, let alone to stay standing on one foot at a time as you try to dress yourself while simultaneously keeping bile from rising from the pits of your stomach. It only takes a few times of bending down and standing back up before your ears are ringing and your headache is creeping its way forward to probe at the sides of your eyeballs, feet stumbling clumsily across the floor. And all you can think about is how the hell you are going to make it all the way back home like this.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when a hand lands on your shoulder and a disorienting jolt shoots through your body at the surprise.

"Wha-"

The only reason you don't fall over is because another hand comes up to steady you, holding you firmly until you've regained some semblance of balance. The hands have a sturdy grip on your upper arms and you can feel your heart trying to beat its way out of your chest when the hands slowly turn you around to face their owner.

Felix's eyes are barely open, eyebrows deeply furrowed and yellowish hair closely resembling a bird's nest atop his head once you face him. Somewhere far, far back within the tangled knots that are your mind, you resent the fact that despite looking like he was clubbed across the head, Felix looks nothing short of unarguably attractive.

Those swollen, pink lips were busy kissing you last night, you annoyingly remember.

He says nothing and neither do you, unsure of what to tell him in your half-dressed state, shirt still hanging from your fingertips and zipper still wide open over your crotch. Gently, almost blindly, Felix's one hand travels down your arm to take your shirt from your hold and drop it on the floor again. You can't protest through the tightened walls of your throat. With one hand on each of your elbows, he begins walking and steering you toward his bed. In order to not fall over as you stumble backward, your hands instinctively shoot up to grip his elbows as well.

"Felix," you rasp, finally finding your ability to verbally object.

"Shhh," is all you get as a response.

Just as the backs of your legs reach his mattress, Felix stops before slowly pushing you down, making you sit. He doesn't stop there, completing his task by guiding you back to lay on his bed again and pulling the covers over you before standing back up, fingers rubbing across his eyelid.

"Felix-"

"Sleep," he orders, his already deep voice even deeper now that it's laced with leftover fatigue. It makes something tingle beneath your skin.

When you seemingly give up on protesting, Felix stumbles away, probably toward the bathroom and you can't help but watch his bare butt as he does.

You'll resume your escape plan once the opportunity arises again, you think, determined to not stay here and prolong the embarrassment of your careless, drunken decisions. So, when you hear the distinct sound of water spraying from a showerhead on the other side of the wall, you inwardly pump your fist in triumph. Your chance to sneak out came easier than you thought.

But your eyelids are pretty heavy, you realize. And Felix's mattress is really soft. And the sound of him showering is kind of soothing. And before you know it, you're being swept back into an ocean of slumber.

Waking up again is slow, it's comfortable, it doesn't feel like suffocating in dizzying pain. You turn, hug the sheets tighter against you, head weighty where it sinks into the pillow. Sleep beckons you back into its grasp, to pull you far away from the reality of Felix's bedroom.

Shit.

You jolt upright, eyes darting around the room. Felix's room. Which you were supposed to escape from.

He is nowhere to be found. The sound of showering that lulled you to sleep is long gone, replaced with a heavy silence. The light swimming around in the room has turned a shade warmer, telling you that the morning has passed and long since turned into day. Your headache has nearly vanished and you no longer feel faint or nauseous. How long were you asleep for?

Your shirt and socks are not discarded on the floor anymore, now neatly folded on the bed beside you, next to a stack of seemingly clean clothes from, you assume, Felix's wardrobe. There's a sticky note on top of the pile and you reach over, grabbing it.

'Drink the glass of water, take a hot shower and put these on.' There's a smiley face at the end.

You look around and, indeed, a tall glass of water stands on the bedside table. Your heartbeat picks up in your chest and you feel somehow flustered, a bit overwhelmed by his kind gesture, even though it's small. It's still thoughtful.

The water isn't as cold as it probably was when Felix poured it up but it feels nice on its way down your throat, nonetheless. You don't hesitate to follow the instructions you were given, obviously abandoning your previous plan of making an escape. A shower sounds too nice, right now.

You take your time washing up, pleased to find that Felix has conditioner on his shower caddy. Less pleased when you unintentionally wonder if he only has it there for girls that he brings over, it being almost halfway emptied. You swat the thought away before the bitter taste of it can spread its way too far down your throat.

Felix's fresh, baggy clothes feel nice against your clean, moisturized skin. Much nicer than you think your clothes from last night would have felt; tight and smelly.

After hesitating for a moment, you fold the rest of your clothes and place them next to your shirt and socks on the bed, making sure to hide your panties on the bottom, in case Felix were to see. Which is admittedly a bit silly, considering that he has not only seen you naked, but been inside you. Still, you insist.

It's nerve-wracking to walk up to his bedroom door, especially when you start hearing that sounds are actually emitting from the other side of it, suggesting that he is very much there. But this makes you realize that he probably heard you showering, which means he already knows you're awake. You think that is what gives you the courage to open the door, hand slightly shaky around the handle.

You have an uninterrupted view into the open-plan kitchen from the gap formed by his door, where you quickly see Felix hard at work, engulfed by the sounds of something frying atop the stove as his back faces you. His hair looks washed now, closer to how you're used to seeing it every day at work.

Cautiously you move into the living space, feeling your heart jumping its way up toward you throat, climbing further with every barefooted step you take. You hate how you feel your hands trembling at your sides.

It's when you reach the closest counter that Felix happens to turn his head and see you. He's surprised for a second, before a warm smile spreads across his face, bright eyes looking you over. Your heart stutters in its climb up your trachea.

"Good morning, love. Sleep well?"

Love. Why does he think he can just call you that now?

You swallow, lick your teeth. "Um-" Your voice catches in your throat and you clear it. "Er. Fine?"

Felix's eyebrows arch skyward and you watch him purse his lips to hide his amusement, before turning to the jar in his hands. You chew your cheek, provoked.

"Hungry?" He glances your way.

You nod tentatively, noticing that eggs are what he is cooking on his frying pan.

"Coffee? Tea?" he asks, observing you expectantly.

"Um... tea?"

Again, he tries to prevent a smirk from forming across his lips, sort of failing. You think the insides of your cheeks might start to bruise from how you're chewing them.

"What's funny?" you dare asking, somehow riled by his amusement.

He cannot help but to break into a grin this time, snickering some. "Nah, it's just- You're so... I'm not used to seeing you this shy. You're usually so feisty."

You stutter in your stance, feeling your wide eyes blinking at him.

He takes in your form once more, where you're stood rigid against the corner of his counter, something fond swimming around in his eyes. "It's cute."

A blazing blush blooms across your face and your eyes turn to dart across the tiled floors, avoiding his stare at all costs. Another deep chuckle tickles your eardrums. "Shut up," you manage, but there isn't much bite in your tone.

"Yes, ma'am." You can hear the grin in his voice.

For the next five minutes or so, you watch in silence as Felix moves around his kitchen, preparing two cups of roasted green tea and plating the eggs from the frying pan. After one pinch of salt atop each egg, he places one of the plates next to you on the counter, followed by a fork and your cup of tea.

"Watch the tea, though. It's still hot. Might be best to give it a minute."

You follow his advice and reach for the fork. The two of you take your first bites in tandem. He watches you chew, then swallow. Your eyebrow twists at his shameless stare.

"Is it... edible?" he asks.

You blink, puzzled. "Yes? I- like eggs."

He nods, suddenly sheepish. "It's just- I'm not the best cook, so- Aside from the brownies I bring to the office sometimes, I- really don't make much else..." He chuckles at his own expense.

The corner of your lip twitches. "It's fine, Felix. The eggs're good," you reassure him, scolding yourself for finding his timid smile endearing.

You proceed to eat wordlessly, forks clinking against your plates as you do. You keep catching Felix looking you over, though, yet he seems unbothered by it as he doesn't stop. After about the tenth time or so, you arch another eyebrow in his direction.

"Why do- Is- What is it?"

He simply shrugs, plump lips curling upward. "Nothing. My clothes look nice on you, is all. I like it." He grins.

You feel your throat tighten and look away, unable to stop yourself from considering how many other times he has told somebody the same thing. Shaking your head, you shove the last big bite of eggs in your mouth, chewing silently with a deep crease between your brows.

"You okay?" You can hear the questioning arch of his brow in the way he asks the question.

"Fine," you mumble around the food in your cheeks.

"You sure?"

Your eyes turn to glare in his direction, meeting the slightly puzzled look on his face reluctantly. As you chew, you cannot really help the words that bubble their way up your chest, something inconvenient having formed them from somewhere in the backrooms of your mind.

Right after you swallow your bite, your mouth speaks of its own accord. "You had conditioner in your shower."

Felix blinks. "Yeah." He smiles. "It smells nice, right?"

You lick your teeth. "Is it yours?"

His head tilts sideways, making him look like a puppy. "Yeah?"

A sigh. "Is it- Was it- Ugh, never mind." You turn to your empty plate, fiddling with your fork, embarrassment catching up to you and effectively shutting you up.

"Huh? I don't get it."

Trying not to roll your eyes, you face him again, finding genuine curiosity there. It takes a while to structure the words in your head and even longer to make yourself utter them out loud.

"It's just- Usually guys don't use conditioner, especially floral ones and so... It just made me wonder. That's all."

For several long seconds, Felix simply watches you, no less confused. "If I have a girlfriend?!" He sounds mildly bewildered.

You cringe. "Not exactly..."

Silently, you watch him dissect your words in his head, turning them over, examining them closely. It's when you see a light of understanding flicker in his eyes, a delighted twitch catching at the side of his mouth, that you quickly turn away, not waiting to see the entertained smile growing on his face.

"I used to have longer hair, remember? Used bucketloads of conditioner back then. Just have some left over, now." You can hear the amusement in his voice and feel a shame-fueled heat crawling its way up to settle in your cheeks, finding that his words are making sense. "So, who'd you think I'd have it there for?"

You turn to shoot him a glare, provoked by the obvious glee shining across his features.

"Felix," you warn.

"Yes, love?"

Your heart seizes at the familiar pet name and you hate how he seems to notice, grin stretching further between his prettily freckled cheeks.

"Just- drop it," you grumble.

His head tilts to the side. "But I don't want to. I'm curious."

Your eyes narrow at him. He's unperturbed. "You know," you relent. "Just... girls."

He hums, unyielding. "Yeah, I know, but like, why'd you think that?"

Your head jerks back some, quizzically, considering the prodding look on his face. "Well, y'know, you're flirty. It just made sense for you."

It's Felix's turn to jerk his head away, seemingly taken aback. "Huh?"

You scoff dramatically, not suppressing an eyeroll this time. "Oh, come on. You flirt more than you actually work at the office. Especially with Sabae."

Felix's brows twitch. "Sabae?"

"Uh, yeah," you assert, as though it's obvious. "Literally every day. Even last night! Sometimes Laura, too. Since her desk's beside yours, I guess..."

"Laura?" He questions, but he no longer looks confused, a smirk slowly finding its way back onto his face.

"Yep. Not to mention Becky. You think it's a coincidence she always gets her coffee at the same time as you?" you ask, a bit incredulous.

"Becky," he repeats, grinning down at you.

"Yes, Becky," you confirm, unamused. "What? Are you denying it? That you're a flirt?"

"Am I not allowed to be?"

You frown, feeling somewhat caught with your pants down. "I- I didn't say that."

"Not directly, but sometimes one can say things without saying them, y'know what I mean?"

"You didn't answer," you steer the conversation back. "Are you denying that you're a flirt?"

"Are you denying that you're bothered by it?"

"You didn't even ask."

"Are you bothered by it?"

You huff and Felix keeps smiling, looking much too amused for your liking.

"I asked first."

"Will you answer if I do?"

"Fine."

"I'm not denying I'm a flirt, then."

The words catch in your throat at Felix's knowing expression. "I guess, I'm not denying it either, then."

"Denying what?"

You all but groan and he only giggles. "That it- peeves me, a little," you mumble, humiliation creeping up on you as you eye the floor beneath your curling toes.

As the delicate touch of steady fingers brush hair back behind your ear, you flinch, looking up to see Felix standing closer.

"You forgot to mention yourself, though," he points out, something soft in the way he beholds your face.

"Hm?" you question, feeling your heart skip within your rib cage.

"I flirt with you too. All the time. You haven't noticed?" He smiles, fondly.

You avert your stare again, fiddling with the soft material of the shirt draped around you. "Of course I noticed. But you flirt with everyone, so..." you shrug.

Felix mulls this over as his hand moves to hold the side of your neck, gaze shifting between your eyes before landing on your throat. His thumb brushes softly across the skin there and he watches the movement as you swallow, humming. Your mind inevitably floods with blurry images from the night before, his hands roaming your body, holding you against him, lips kissing you with a sloppy tenderness that feels too sweet as you're reminded of it. You wouldn't be able to move right now even if you wanted to, body completely frozen. But you don't want to.

"You're the one who's here, aren't you? Not them," he doesn't drop the topic, voice lower now than it was before.

"That- doesn't mean they haven't been."

"They haven't," he asserts without hesitating and by the way he says it, you're convinced he's telling the truth. The admission makes your lungs clench.

Saying nothing, he seems to await your response.

"O-kay," you give, voice small.

His sunny grin comes back, slightly lopsided, fingertips gliding gently along your skin as he lets go of you and steps back, grabbing his plate to turn toward the dishwasher.

Only once he pulls away do you realize that you're breathing heavier, and quickly force yourself into action, taking your own plate with one hand and the mug of tea with the other.

Following behind him, you watch him place his plate in the dishwasher before turning around and grabbing yours, winking at you as he does. You back away, situating yourself where the counters form a corner and take the first sip of your tea. It's nice, soothing. You think your nerves desperately need it.

Felix reaches for his own mug then, leaning sideways against the counter to face you, mirroring you as he takes a sip of his own.

"D'you like it?" he asks.

"The tea?"

"Yeah."

"Mm-hmm," you nod, honest.

He taps the side of his mug with his nails, scrutinizing you. You curl and uncurl your toes, chew your lip, anticipating what he is about to say.

"For how long has it bothered you?"

You suck in a breath, startled. "Felix," you scold.

He cannot help but smile wide. "C'mon. Humor me."

"No."

"You shoulda told me."

Your eyebrows contort. "Really? Why?"

He looks away, smile wiggling on his face. "I'd have liked to've known."

You roll your eyes, exasperated. "Of course you would've. Which is why I should've never told you, at all."

"Hey," he pouts.

Genuine unease seems to bubble somewhere in your stomach and you find yourself turning around, facing the countertop instead of the man now behind you. You feel exposed, in a way you rather would not and start doubting yourself. Even if everything Felix has said is true, it doesn't mean that your night together meant anything to him. It doesn't mean that girls from outside of the office don't frequent his place in a similar fashion to how you are now. And quite frankly, you feel a bit pathetic for even caring. You slept with a really handsome man who has got heaps of charisma, what did you expect?

"Hey," he repeats, voice smoother now, close to your ear. You stiffen as his hands find their way around your waist, underneath the fabric of his shirt, splaying themselves across your stomach. His front meets your back and you gasp quietly, shivering at his warm breath on the side of your neck. "I'm sorry," he nearly whispers, voice deeper than you knew it could be. Your nerves tingle.

His hand travels upward to hold your breast, testing the weight of it gently, squeezing it with care. Air hitches in your throat, almost making you choke.

"I'll stop," he says, fingertips teasing your perked nipple delicately. A wave of arousal shoots down between your legs and you unintentionally squeeze your thighs together.

"Wh-wha-" you question, unable to focus, to understand.

"I won't do it anymore," he clarifies, starts to leave faint kisses against your pulse, the hand not on your breast sliding downward to probe at the edge of his sweatpants hanging around your hips, his boxers. You try not to flinch but fail. He sighs into your neck.

The hand holding your mug comes down on the counter, spilling some tea over your fingers while placing it there, uncaring of it as your palms plant themselves atop the marble in an attempt to steady yourself. You sigh, sinking into Felix's frame behind you, his fingers slipping beneath the elastic of his boxers.

"W-won't do what?" you somehow remember to ask, nearly vibrating with anticipation as soft fingers weave between the short hairs surrounding your sex.

"I won't flirt with them anymore," he declares, his one hand rising past your breast to slip through the neckline of his t-shirt, digits widening to wrap around your throat, holding it gently. "I do it 'cause it's fun but I'll stop. Only you, from now on."

You can't decipher whether he means what he says or not through the fog of pleasure clouding your judgment, biting back a moan as he applies gentle pressure against your throat to make you lean your head over his shoulder. You comply, easily, putty in his hands. More warmth pools between your legs and you squirm.

"I-I'm getting your underwear all wet," you tell him, somehow apologetic despite everything. You remotely realize that Felix's manhood twitches against your ass, then.

He exhales a muted laugh into your warm skin. "Good girl."

You huff, equally unamused and aroused. "Sh-shut up." Your backtalk morphs into a whine, Felix's fingers teasing at the swollen lips surrounding your slit.

"Mmm," he hums, kissing your jaw and you shudder in his arms, needing him to touch you properly. "Want me to touch you, hm?" he asks as if he can read your thoughts, voice low over your cheek.

"Y-yeah."

Another peck against your skin. "Alright. Since you're so pretty, I will."

Finally, his fingers dip past your lips, gathering the results of your arousal before gliding gently across your clit. You jerk in his arms at the contact, enjoying the way he tightens his hold around your throat to keep you still, thighs involuntarily tightening around his hand.

"Spread your legs for me, love," he requests, fingers unmoving against your pulsing clit. "I'll make you feel good, I promise."

Shakily, you oblige. "Okay," you sigh, throat bobbing against the palm of Felix's hand as you swallow.

His digits resume their movement, tentative as they slide across your swollen nub and you can't help the tremble in your heavy breaths.

"You really are wet. And warm," Felix marvels, circling your clit softly, steadying you as you mewl in his embrace. "Uhh, I really wanna bury myself in there again," he confesses, fingers sliding down to gather more of your wetness before resuming his movements against you.

You can feel your pleasure building, burning and twisting somewhere deep within your abdomen, heavy and tangible.

"How does it feel, love?"

"G-good," you moan, helplessly grinding your cunt against the pads of his fingers as he touches you. "Fuck, uhh..."

"I know," he reassures you, trying a gentle squeeze with his grip around your throat. You whimper, overwhelmed. "You're doing so good, sweetie. Just relax, I've got you."

Your cheeks burn, likely searing against Felix's skin, heart growing with warmth at his gentle words. In the delirium of your pleasure, you find courage that you don't expect to, hidden words crawling their way up your tongue.

"Felix," you huff, breathy and needy.

"Mm?"

"I- uh, I like you."

You unmistakably feel a grin forming against your skin, Felix's arms squeezing to hold you tighter against him. "I know, my love."

His circles over your clit don't let up and before you know it, you're hurdling toward your release, muscles tightening all throughout your body.

"Oh- uh- I'm-"

"Let go, just let go. I'm here, I've got you."

And you do, seizing within his arms, eyes rolling up past your eyelids, throat tightening around a strained cry of pleasure under the firm hold of Felix's hand, heart beating aggressively in your chest as your nerves tingle euphorically. Your sex pulses against Felix's digits as he helps you ride your way through your orgasm, slowing his pace gradually into a gentle motion until your mind comes back down into reality.

Your chest heaves, body slumping helplessly into the one behind you. As your legs squeeze together and your hips jerk away, Felix lets up, slipping his hand back out of his boxers to hold you over your hip.

"How was it?" he asks, voice thick and gruff.

"M-my ears are ringing. Fingertips're tingling."

"Pretty good then." He's smiling into you still.

You sigh. "Yeah, pretty good."

Not releasing his grip, Felix grinds against your ass and you let him, still jelly in his hold. He carries what is at least a semi within the pants he's wearing, sighing a warm breath over your neck. "God, I wanna fuck you. Bend you over this counter, come inside you."

"Y-you should," you egg him on.

He only manages to groan before the sound of keys jingling catches your joint attention. You freeze together, waiting and assessing the threat before daring to make another move. And as you hear the keys being inserted in the lock of the front door, the two of you fly apart like repelling magnets. You catch yourself against the counter in front of you and Felix backs away toward the dishwasher, picking his now lukewarm mug of tea back up.

Your eyes lock across the kitchen area and yours widen, panicked. You try to ask him what to do by simply gesturing with your hands but all he can do is shrug, taking a shaky sip from the mug in his hands. You sigh, bewildered.

"It's only Hyunjin," he tries to console.

Your jaw slackens in perplexity.

You hear the front door open down the hallway, then slamming shut as you lean back to grip the counter behind you.

"Hey, Felix," comes a greeting.

You watch Felix shoot a strained smile toward his friend, who's in his line of sight but hidden from yours. It takes some effort to swallow the saliva pooling in your throat. "Hey! You're back. Didn't realize it's already two o'clock."

"What? Got up late?"

Felix shoots you a wary glance. "Eh, yeah. A little."

"Hey, everything good?" Hyunjin asks as his footsteps pad down the hallway and before you know it, his figure appears around the corner.

You freeze, as does he when he sees you. His eyes widen and you can only hope that he can't tell that your breathing is a little too ragged, cheeks a little too flushed, and you're thankful that he can't know that your ears are still kind of ringing.

"Hello," he says.

"Hi," you answer, voice meek.

His inquisitive stare shoots toward his roommate, raising a questioning brow before eyeing you again.

"Had a good trip?" Felix asks, gulping around big swigs of tea.

"Uh, yeah," Hyunjin hesitantly answers and you find yourself fidgeting under his eyes that keep jumping between you and the man that just made you come on his fingers, in their shared kitchen.

You can't for the life of you come up with something to say, stomach turning and head spinning at how somehow relaxed Felix seems already, maybe a little sheepish but not nearly as uneasy as you are, as if he already knows what is about to unfold. The cogs turning in Hyunjin's head might as well be visible as he assesses the scene before him, taking in all of your form stood in his apartment. You chew your cheek, squirming in your place in the corner.

"Ah," he finally sighs, something akin to realization dawning across his features as he smiles. He eyes his friend knowingly, hands landing on his hips. "This is the girl from work that you can't shut up about, isn't it?"

Your body goes rigid, only your eyes moving as you cast a quizzical glance in Felix's direction. There's a somewhat bashful grin on his face as he shrugs before hiding behind the lip of his mug. "Well, when you say it like that..." he mumbles, eyes averting down toward the floor.

You don't know what to call the feeling that pops and spreads in your chest, ticklish and exhilarating, a whole new wave of heat flushing on your cheeks.

Hyunjin laughs before turning to you, fully. "Well, it's good to finally meet you."

"Er, y-you too."

"M'guessing I'll be seeing a lot more of you around here, so we'll have time to get to know each other later. I'll leave you guys to it," he says, beaming as he turns and walks toward his bedroom, sharing a secret look with his friend before he disappears behind his door.

Sheepishly, Felix turns to meet your eyes and you raise an inquisitive brow at him. He simply shrugs, mouth blooming into a bright grin. You can't help but be infected, your own lips curving into a matching smile, warmth spreading from your chest and throughout the rest of your body.

Maybe your drunken mistake wasn't so much of a mistake after all.

copyright © 2024 woozyvee. all rights reserved.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (4 of 4)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal, emotional, and physical injury canon-typical swearing, protective Simon, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You might not be his anymore, but Ghost doesn't believe so. When you reach out to him, Ghost makes every excuse to come over, knowing that he can get you back if you just realize that you've always only been his.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

Simon stands in the middle of your living room.

He is blood-drenched. Lead-hungry.

Full of venom. Full of fury.

His gaze sweeps over the busted television, the broken bookshelves, and the massive hole in the wall. There are bent picture frames empty of their glass. The photos within are either missing or partially torn. Whiskey stains the wall, running down from the impact point in little ribbons of amber.

Simon’s hands curl into fists.

This is so much fucking worse than what he originally thought. The living room doesn’t even scratch the surface. The kitchen is completely trashed, so is your bedroom where your boyfriend decided to shred up your clothes in anger.

Your… “boyfriend.”

That fucker should be grateful he isn’t here to face Simon. If he were, Simon would make him suffer. Make the prick eat his teeth.

On the phone, you were delirious, each word running together anger, frustration, and a fear that Simon felt in his gut. It sat heavy in his ears. That was enough for Simon to forget all responsibility and come to you.

Otherwise, Simon would not have come. You are not his woman anymore. That obligation to comfort doesn’t belong to him. It belongs to your boyfriend, but he’s the cause of all this suffering.

Why should you seek that bastard out?

No. Simon is glad you called him even though the circumstances turn his stomach and fill his veins with sludge.

He turns around and finds you lingering nearby. Your eyes are red with irritation, and your cheeks are puffy. Simon longs to pull you into his arms, yet hesitates only because you might push him away.

Simon unclenches his hands, flexing his fingers. “You’re breaking up with him.”

He’s not going to step around or sugar-coat this. Simon has always been blunt with his words, and this will be no different.

Your back straightens, hands clasped in front of you, fingers curled around the neckline of your sweater. “Simon—”

“It’s not a suggestion.” Simon lifts his arm, indicating the disaster of an apartment. “This is who he is. This will happen again.” He drops his arm.

Your chest expands. Deflates. “But—”

“Don’t defend him.”

“I’m not,” you snap.

Simon strides forward but you do not retreat. You stand tall, staring up into Simon’s face. Though your cheeks are stained with your tears, you’re beautiful.

“Next time it won’t be the wall or your television. It will be you he hurts.” Simon shakes his head. “And I won’t allow that.” You open your mouth as if to interrupt but Simon is having none of that. “I’ll kill him before that happens.”

“No. You won’t.”

“I will,” he growls. “I’ve never lied to you. Think I’m lying about this?”

Simon watches your throat bob as you swallow. He knows you understand. Fucking hell, he might be distant at times, even cold or blunt, but he never lies to you. Simon has always told you exactly what’s on his mind. Sometimes it has been to his detriment.

It is one of the reasons the two of you broke up. Simon didn’t want to end things. He respected your wishes, but even upon leaving, Simon still considered you his. The issue was with him and how he communicated with you about things. Emotionally, he was fucking distant. Not all the time, but enough that it seemed like he didn’t care.

That’s far from the truth, but Simon didn’t see any of it until you put it all out in front of him and decided to leave. Only then did he realize, and he did fucking everything to work on himself.

Fresh tears develop in the undersides of your eyelids. That’s it for him. It’s over.

Simon moves in, clasping the sides of your face with both hands. “Do you understand?” he asks softly, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

You don’t nod or even make a sound.

It’s not enough. Simon needs confirmation.

“He will escalate. He will get worse. You will be a target. Tell me you understand.”

There is a sniffle before you speak. “I know,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly.

Simon sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. You’re warm. A beacon of light in the disaster of a room. He leans in, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. He inhales and his lung fill with you.

With a final squeeze, Simon places a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls back, but just enough to look at you. “I’ll clean up.”

“I can help.”

Simon shakes his head. “No. Sit. I want to do this for you.”

Your brow softens, arms falling away from him as you step back and glide to the sofa.

Simon tackles the bedroom first, shoving all your damaged clothes into trash bags. He organizes everything, making sure nothing is out of place, that it appears as it did before your boyfriend trashed it all. When he’s done, Simon returns to you, putting you to bed.

“Don’t leave,” you murmur, and Simon doesn’t. He curls up next to you, holds you until your breathing becomes shallow and slow.

Only then does Simon unfurl himself, slipping away. He doesn’t leave the flat. He shuts the bedroom door and gets to work, picking up the shattered glass, sending the television to the large rubbish bin. He orders you a new one and schedules it for delivery. He sweeps the floor and returns everything to your kitchen cabinets. Anything that is torn or broken gets trashed. Simon works through your clothes last. Sitting on the living room floor, Simon shifts through every one, trying to see if anything is salvageable. Most of it is, but there is plenty he has to toss.

Simon works until there is nothing left. It’s incredibly late, the time creeping close to the rising of the sun. Returning to the bedroom, Simon kicks off his shoes and removes the balaclava. You’ve seen his face countless times, and showing it now is normal.

When Simon slips into the bed beside you, and your body shifts, turning in his direction. He slides over into your reaching arms. The moment your bodies come together, you sigh with pleasure, and the noise goes straight to his groin.

But Simon won’t. He won’t push. This is not about him.

Sleep floods in, and it is your soft hands caressing his face that eventually wake him.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice harsh from dreaming.

“Morning, Simon,” you reply, resting your chin on his chest.

This is how mornings used to be. It sends Simon into memory and the days when he knew he was in love.

Was?

No.

Is. He still is. He still loves you utterly. That never stopped for him.

Your hands are not idle. After caressing his face, they move downward. The shift in your motions sends little shivers through his spine. They are visible and sharp. You inhale, and Simon begins to lean in. You mimic him but pause before your mouths can meet.

“Do you have to go?”

Simon captures one of your wrists with his hand, caressing the pulse point there with his thumb. “I can stay as long as you like.”

The smile that spreads across your face warms him everywhere. He wants to savor it forever. Your gaze drops from his eyes to his mouth. Then, your head shifts to glance at his chest and stomach. He might be wearing a shirt but Simon feels bare under your attention.

As your gaze returns to his face, Simon’s resolve melts away.

Fuck it. He’s doing this.

Grabbing the back of your neck, Simon closes the distance, pressing his lips to yours. There is no hesitation or resistance. You melt into him, and Simon has to hold back a moan. Every kiss is tender. Sweet. He’s missed this—missed you so fucking much it’s a raging inferno under his skin.

There is no part he leaves untouched. His hands roam everywhere, seeking closeness. Seeking your warmth.

“Simon,” you whimper against his mouth.

“I’m right here, love.”

You push upward, swinging your leg over his body, straddling him. Simon is momentarily stunned but you’re already returning to him, pressing you lips to his. He groans and grips your neck harder as your hips rolls against him.

“Simon,” you repeat, and his name on your lips is shifting him around, turning his insides out, revealing all his weaknesses.

His hands and your hands tug and pull. Moving clothing. Shoving bedding aside. When you start to sink down on him, Simon has to break the frantic kissing to breathe deep, to praise you in all the ways he knows how.

Your hands are solid against his chest. An anchor as you rock back and forth.

“Fuck,” he groans.

“Fuck,” he repeats, elongated the vowel as your pussy lightly squeezes him.

Above him, the air from your lungs releases from you in little sighs that creep into his ears and burrow in the folds of his brain. They are collected there. Remembered.

Using his grip on the back of your neck, Simon pulls you right back in, claiming your mouth. You open for him perfectly, your hips momentarily stalling as all your attention shifts to this one connection.

But Simon needs that movement. He craves it like the birds need the wind.

Wrapping his free arm around your waist, Simon flips you onto your back. There is no pause between the time Simon flips you and when he starts to thrust. It is instant. An impulse. A driving force that overcomes him.

Your fingers claw at his back, your legs hooking around the backs of his thighs, drawing him closer. If that is what you want, Simon will do it. Happily.

Pressing his forehead to yours, the two of you exchange breaths. The bed strikes the wall in repeated thuds, pleasure pooling in the base of Simon’s spine.

“Don’t—” You inhale. Exhale. “Stop.”

Growling, Simon presses his mouth to your neck, his pace increasing until his thrusting becomes an erratic, desperate thing. He hears you moaning, feels your pussy clenching down to keep him inside.

It’s too fucking much.

Simon’s own release roils up from the depths. His hips grind forward, creating a seal as he comes. His entire body shivers as one of your hands cradles his cheek. The touch is so soft he almost doesn’t recognize it at first.

But then you curl your fingers under his chin, guiding his face away from your neck to stare into your eyes. He starts to pull away, but your feet stay locked over the back of his legs, keeping him inside you.

Simon smirks.

He has you.

It might not be perfect or even solid, but he has his way in.

You haven’t said it, but you don’t need to.

You are his.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @miaraei @coffeecaketornado @wren5650 @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @kittytiddywinks @cinnabeanz @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @marispunk @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @xxkay15xx @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[k0yaz]

hello! can I request headcanons of how Arlecchino would be as a parent with wife reader? like they have their own child that isn’t being trained to join the Fatui and Arle just gets to love and raise the child with reader (preferably the child being a daughter but it’s up to you <3 )

parent arlecchino hcs

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, established marriage, CHILDREN MUAHAHAHSHSH, um idk what else to put, pure fluff, her wife/reader being absolutely concerned for this woman, but it’s ok bc it’s cute and she loves her, eating the nearest route on the highway, ok that’s enough “content warnings” I hope.

A/N: wait this is so cute omg I love the idea of arlecchino having her own child that’s not part of the fatui 🕯️

Oh my god bro Arlecchino would be so ridiculously sweet and gentle with her daughter it’s actually insane.

She cares about the members of the House of the Hearth obviously, so the affection she shows her own child with you is immeasurable.

Arlecchino would be way more protective over her, considering that this child of hers isn’t trained to kill or go on missions, and just meant to live a normal life. She really wants to protect her child’s innocence and peaceful lifestyle no matter what.

While you two took care of your daughter, Arle would definitely do the thing where she picks her up and spins her in the air.

She enjoys it, but her resting bitch face makes it hard to tell-

Lowkey I feel like she would hilariously have her daughter held in one arm while answering the door to Lyney, and tell him to go on another mission while shielding the child in her encircled arm.

And Lyney would just stare wondering if that’s really the fourth Fatui harbinger, who’s currently hugging a child protectively.

She finds it oddly comfortable to come home to her wife and daughter at home, having both you and your kid in her arms as the three of you would spend time like a normal family.

Although she may not show it, Arlecchino gets kind of emotional over this. She wasn’t accustomed to coming home to just pure peace and tranquility rather than never ending business and violence. It was nice.

Subtly, if you have to go out for something, or if either of you have a responsibility to share, she ALWAYS and I mean ALWAYS, tries to make some sort of excuse to stay home with your daughter.

She never outright says it, but she always has a convinient ploy of reasons as to why she should stay home that day.

Most of the time, she uses the excuse that she wants you to have a break from the kid.

“Hey Arle can you-“ “No worries, I’ll take care of her today so that you’ll have some weight taken off your shoulders.”

You see right through her, but who cares it’s adorable.

When your daughter gets a bit older, Arlecchino initially lies to her whenever she goes out on missions. At first, she’d vaguely state that it was just “business that she needed to take care of,” and then come home covered in blood.

She definitely lied saying it was ketchup once.

Of course she isn’t able to hide it forever, but your child understands since that is her father after all.

Omg off topic but this woman would definitely let y’all’s daughter step on her back cause she thinks it’s funny, Arle won’t be fazed even a bit cause obviously this woman has some ridiculous muscle.

Arlecchino would even let her do her lipstick sometimes, no matter how sloppy it turns out.

Once she removed it and redid her lipstick before going out, and your daughter wasn’t happy at all 😭

So from then on she always kept it on even if she looks like a clown.

She’d have to stare daggers at her fatui children laughing at the oh so intimidating woman who was feared going out with lipstick smeared up her cheek.

This is so cute I love domestic parent arle ‼️

A/N: OMG BRO AT FIRST I DIDNT HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR TJIS BUT I ENDED UP EVAPORATING MIDWAY AND GOT A TON SO I FINISHED WITH IT BEINT FAIRLY LONG hope u like it <333

[yurinaa-world]

Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard got body swap with female reader

"𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝓎 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎?!"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Sampo, Jing Yuan, Ratio and Gepard

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Body Swap?!

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: Sorry Im not posting too much, I've got so much work 😔

💫𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇-𝒯𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓊𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓂𝒶𝓃"

This had to be some kind of nightmare, you shouldn’t have trusted Sampo at all, especially fighting a monster no less. Each breath you took felt like burning to your lungs while sharp pain hit your stomach.

Sampo, like the bastard he is, swoops in at the last second to take your glory, just to call it “teamwork.” Yet what both didn’t expect was the monster to explode and be sprayed like a fountain of gunk on both of your bodies, disgusting. Only to flicker your eyelids open to find a white-liquid-covered self staring back? Wait what’s happening?! 

Sampo doesn’t seem as freaked out as you do, honestly, he might just be enjoying this a tad bit too much, staring at anything that reflects your body, or saying things in your voice that you would never say! 

Yet, you’ll have to clean the gunk on your bodies soon. But that’s where the problem lies, it’s all Sampos fault.

It's funny, how you both stand in the bathroom, having a staring contest because you refuse to let him get in there, who knows what kinds of creepy things he’ll think about having all that “free access” To your body gives you the shivers. Your towel is wrapped around your chest even in Sampo’s body while he’s wrapped in a towel, note that it’s very loosely around your body as if it will fall off from a small gust of wind.

“You distrust me with your body that much? I thought we were close…”

No way this is going to work on you, not when your dignity is on the line.

“Not in the slightest do I trust you.”

“That’s just cruel, there’s gunk in my hair and there’s no way I’m spending my entire night smelling as if I’m from the streets.”

He was right, it’s not like you can avoid showering or he can either. The shower has been going in the background the whole time—it would be a waste of the already high water bill.

So the compromise is showering together, but you're pressed very close to each other, your chest against his—after all, he doesn’t want you to see his family jewels either…it feels weird holding yourself… so close, especially when it’s Sampo doing far too much while in your body.

“You call me a pervert but here you are…” you would never say that, never say in a tone like that, you would never make that expression…his hand goes to wrap itself around the back of your head, leaning down to only get the view of your face.

“Don’t…”

He was far too close, so close that you knew what he was thinking in that brain of his. Even when you tried to pull away he only pressed your foreheads together. “It’s just a secret deal between us,” He whispers in your voice, it feels weird looking at your face while in Sampo's body.

“Close your eyes.”

His lips still envelope your own, he made you experience from the outside in your body yet you, on the other hand, make him laugh with those shy, cheeks dusted with pink on your face.

“See, it doesn't feel so bad.”

The hand of your body lands on your chest while Sampo speaks through your voice in a sing-songy tone, which only gives shivers down your spine. “Don’t look down,”

💫𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒳𝒾𝒶𝓃𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓊 𝒞𝓁𝑜𝓊𝒹 𝒦𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈"

“Jing yuan! Could stop lazing around! I think I might die if this continues!”

You couldn’t last another day like this. Playing general while he lazed around in yours, is the worse! Honestly, you might just get charged with impersonation of The General of the Loufu. It’s bad that even Yanqing noticed the change and has been looking at you funny.

You're still determining how it happened. Like a blur in your memory, but you want out! Like right this instant! But again, Jing Yuan is having a relaxed time in your body, as if he’d already retired from being General. Laying in your shared bed, while wearing loose sleeping attire he would usually wear in his body.

It was too big for your body, falling down your shoulder, and buttons on the bottom of the shirt opened up showing your stomach. Yet all of this went over his head, does it matter what he’s wearing not as if he’s ever left the house looking like that, so no need to worry about your dignity. Just lay beside him and tell him your worries.

“Yanqing is always looking at me funny, I might be charged with impersonation soon! What will I do then!” you complain staring at the ceiling with vain on popping from your forehead. An expression that he would never wear but it’s funny watching you freak while he lays on the side, listening to complaints about your day as him.

“You worry too much, nothing will happen,” he chuckles,  “It must have been lonely without me right? I was feeling so alone in this house without you,” he mutters, pushing his body up with a soft grunt escaping from his lips. His face right against your own, funny, how you’ve switched places, him pleading for your attention. Things don't change.

Always thinking about affection even if your bodies switched, what difference does the feeling make? You still have that blush while he grins down at you, before stealing your lips for a taste, a little mishap won’t stop him from loving you.

💫𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜 "𝑀𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐼𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓁𝓁𝒾𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈𝒾𝒶 𝒢𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹"

“Looks like I’ve overpowered you this time, veritas.”

You seem to be having far too much fun with his body, far too much, looks like for the first time in your life you’ve actually “overpowered” him, in his body (not much of an achievement in life if you ask him). That smug expression you always make doesn’t suit the curvatures of his face in slightly. He would never act like that.

A scoff leaves his lips, crossing his arm, staring up at you with an intense gaze (that doesn’t suit you either) while you have him caged against the wall. He must commend you since you finally recreated a scene out of a romance novel under your current circumstances, you’ve probably been waiting to strike.

Yet even now, it seems like he’s overpowered you, giving you no satisfaction to your delusions. A scoff leaves his lips, well, your body's lips? Clicking his tongue while he’s at it. “You disappoint me with cheap tricks.” He mutters in your voice, staring at you like that, it’s bad that you can’t help but falter even though it’s coming to your body.

“Can’t you play along for once?!” You groan, feeling the awkwardness of his self-awareness. Completely letting go of your act just to complain about his unwillingness.  You truly are enjoying your time, so why doesn’t he as well? Even someone like you has advantages when it comes to your body.

After all, it isn’t all about strength, just a couple of cheap tricks (but it’s fine since it’s your body, so not too out of character). Watching you just roughly scratch the top of his head, ruffling the hair of his body. He just does the same thing you had done to him.

Pressing you against the wall, while his hand is beside your shoulder. Honestly, to anyone else, they would laugh hard at the sight of THE Dr. Ratio getting pinned against the wall as if it were a scene out of a romance novel.

“Veritas—“

“You talk too much, with such ignorance in your tone of voice.”

“Veritas! You put the shivers down my spine, seriously how did you do that in my body!?” You shriek like some kind of fan girl at a concert, just makes him frown at how you’re acting.

“Enough of this, are you even listening?”

💫𝒢𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝐿𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓊 "𝒞𝒶𝓅𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑒 𝒢𝓊𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈"

“I'm so sorry, I can’t!”

He can’t do this to you. Not when he’s in your body and you can’t do the same to him either. Both of you are a complete mess from the frozen dirt and snow, which is why you're like this right now, clothes wet (even after wearing so many layers), bodies cold (just asking to get sick), and both of you flustered because a body switch. 

Just looking at each other with red blush on your cheeks; your clothes soaked to the brim with cold water dripping down. You both have to take a shower, or you both are waiting to get sick. He feels it’s wrong to undress himself in your body, he can’t do that to a lady! He’s some kind of creep! 

“You can’t just stay like that, or else you’ll get sick,” you mutter with the same embarrassing mindset he’s carrying, your hands going to the shirt buttons of your body, he instantly snatched his head to the side, feeling the welt cloth shirt slowly whisks off his body leaving him shiver in the cold. He can’t force himself to look to the front. Not when your body has the top left on.

“Can you help me take off my shirt?” you breathed, feeling your ears and face get unbearable hot even when you were drenched in cold water. He kept his head high, not looking down for even a second when the hands of your body gently unbuttoned his shirt while your eyes shifted while gazing into his eyes, which made things worse for the both of you.

You could hear his breath hitch at a moment like this, the eye contact looked much, even in his body your eyes still told him what you were feeling, right now it was a bad thing, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“I won’t look anywhere but your eyes,” he reassures you once more.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[qqueenofhades]

I think the Aaron Sorkin fic people are writing about the convention to be extremely silly. It's going to be Biden. And if Biden's health takes a downturn and he feels the need to step down its going tk be Harris. This fantasy where we skip over her to whip up two random white guys(or like maaaybe Witmer) and somehow cruise to victory instead of fragmenting the party months before the election is simply not going to happen.

Look, I'm just saying, I got an email from the Biden campaign this morning where they seemed pretty darn happy with the actual (i.e. not-bloviating media) results of the debate: $38 million raised in 4 days ($30 million from individual small-dollar donors), 10K new volunteers in a week, 3x surge in campaign volunteers for battleground states, essentially no change or even a modest boost in the polls. So I think at this point, we can cautiously conclude the following things:

The debate looked bad for Biden, perhaps, but doesn't seem to have hurt him nearly as much the incredibly bad-faith BIDEN NEEDS TO STEP DOWN NOW takes being pumped out by the NYT and its other compatriots would suggest. Especially when these same media outlets have been gleefully sabotaging Biden at every turn for years already and whose fake-sanctimonious hand-wringing "for the good of the nation" pieces honestly should get them dropped into Superhell for Bad Journalists;

Biden went to Raleigh NC right after the debate and gave a fiery rally speech that was very well received. Now, I don't know why we didn't have that Biden at the debate, but it was the same night and there clearly was not any "cOgnItiVe dEcLinE" happening there (also Biden has a stutter and has for literally his entire life, and had a cold on debate night, so it was just an unfortunate confluence of factors)

There are very few actually undecided voters in this election (once again: HOW???) and those who tuned into the debate were largely already convinced of which candidate they were voting for and this didn't do much to change their minds. Just like, you know, pretty much every other debate in the history of presidential elections.

Ordinary voters, and not mainstream media outlets with BIDEN IZ BAD goggles clamped over their eyes, were able to see Trump's insane Gish gallops, lies, and full-blown dementia; this isn't going to get any better for him when he's already lost 20%-25% of GOP voters in every state primary and still is going to be sentenced in his criminal trial;

The D.C. political elite screaming about how Biden should step down (FOUR MONTHS BEFORE THE ELECTION) and leave the Democrats to start from scratch with some Star Chamber-selected candidate with no money and no incumbency record and no organization apparatus and a divided party are either fucking weapons grade morons or working secretly for Trump, because that IS in fact the best way to lose the election;

Such speculation seems to fall chiefly on Gavin Newsom, who (to his credit) has shut down any and all suggestion that he should try to step in and take the place of an incumbent who has won every state primary with 90% or more, because he's remotely sane and understands that this year is too important to fuck around with;

I've somehow never seen any suggestion that Biden should step aside for the duly elected (brown, female) Vice President, because everyone seems to think some Young Miraculous White Guy is coming and/or should step in;

All this while SCOTUS is clearly so confident of Trump getting back in that it's willing to grant him Absolute God King status pre- and post-emptively;

Yes, Biden needs to up his game before the next debate (though that's on Fox News iirc, blargh), but I think it's far enough post-debate that we can say it was bad but did not sink him, and if anything, reinforced the fact to many ordinary, non-brainwormed voters that Biden is old (which has been the number one chief theme of news coverage for four years and is no surprise to anyone) but is a decent and principled man doing a good job, while Trump is an absolute gibbering insane orange shitmonger fascist. I don't think he did himself any favors in that regard.

....anyway. The point is, do not be fucking insane people, Biden is not going to step down and frankly shouldn't, don't read the NYT (as noted, they've openly admitted to sabotaging him for personal ego reasons so I don't know why the hell anyone would listen to what they have to say about him), this is still an eminently winnable election, and let's go get those motherfucking fascists. I want Trump in jail and all of SCOTUS and the MAGAGOP fucking crying over it because they fucking suck. Let's go.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Boyfriend's Best friend | Han Jisung

•Synopsis: Like the embers shared between you and your boyfriend's bestie, boundaries are burned away until there's nothing but smoke and ash. Can you come back from being too badly burned by the mistake you two made? Or will the bitter taste remain, ruining everything?

•Pairings: Han Jisung x Female Reader

•Content Includes: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, heavy use of weed, betrayal, lies, secrets, regret, heartbreak, college au, friends to ?

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

Your boyfriend of one year is cheating on you.

You knew that; he just doesn't know that you know. Even his best friend knows you know, but out of respect for your wishes, he's kept quiet. Why? Because despite Danny and Jisung being inseparable since diapers, Jisung has been a true friend to you since you met Danny at the coffee shop years ago. Jisung isn't just someone you share music theory class with; he's also the vocalist and lead guitarist of the band Respirator, where you play the drums.

So you've got an alliance with Jisung. He was there for you the night you found out. Alone in the campus auditorium, you texted Jisung. Your first instinct was to call your best friend Ana, but interrupting her date with Chris was out of the question. Jisung stayed with you in that cold, creepy theater and let you cry into his chest for hours. He just couldn't understand why you continued to stay, why you continued to let Danny fuck you, knowing he's fucking someone else. He knew where his friend was before he'd come back to their shared apartment and yet he'd hear your moans through the poorly insulated walls.

“I have no excuse for him, Y/N. He's an asshole for playing you like this. I've tried to get him to see the error of his ways, but fuck… he's only thinking with his dick,” Jisung says, shaking his head and glancing at his friend who's fast asleep on the couch.

A night of forgotten textbooks and study notes overtaken by weed, beer, and pizza has knocked your boyfriend out cold. You don't look in the direction of the couch; instead, you inhale the hot smoke from the joint between your fingers, letting your head fall back before blowing the smoke into the air. You lay down on the hard cedarwood floor, your foot lightly bumping one of the many pillows piled up in one corner where Jisung sits.

“Yeah, there's no point in talking to him, Ji. He'll only do what he wants, not what's right,” you say, taking another hit and passing it over to Jisung.

Your fingers brush when he reaches for it, and you feel tempted to crawl over to him so he can hug the numb feeling in your chest away. You could use some genuine affection after watching Danny sneak off earlier with the excuse of needing to speak to his Tech professor. But if Mr. Campbell has turned into a little blonde with pigtails and a short pink skirt, then he most definitely wasn't in a meeting with his professor.

The little blonde… you don't even know who she is or if she even goes to college. The only thing you know is that you are nothing like her. Where her wardrobe is probably ninety percent pink, yours is ninety percent black. Typical style of a girl in a band: your jeans have rips in them and are either too tight or too loose. Your shirts are a bit of the same; sometimes they hug the curves of your breasts and waist, other times they swallow you up. Your thoughts are heavy in your smoky, hazy mind, and the soft strumming from Jisung's guitar sets the ambiance of your momentary self-pity.

“Maybe I should change up my style, Ji. Do you think then he might love me again?”

God, that sounds awful, you think as soon as the words leave your mouth. You cover your face with your hands and then drape them over your stomach. The baggy My Chemical Romance band tee has bunched up, and your midsection feels the occasional breeze from the open window, making you shiver.

“Nah, Y/N, don't think that. Your style is what makes you, you. If he can't see how hot you are no matter what you wear, then that's his problem, not yours,” Jisung says seriously.

You hear him suck in the smoke and exhale slowly. With heavy lids, you turn your head to the side and look at him. He smiles as his fingers glide over the strings of his fiery red guitar, his eyes half-lidded and pink with a lazy smile.

“Thanks, Ji,” you mumble and return the equally lazy smile.

He keeps his eyes on you, his gaze lingering longer than usual, and it unexpectedly makes your pulse race. There's something about his eyes that has always had a hypnotic effect on you. Siren eyes, they lure you in, making it impossible to escape unless he lets his gaze drop. He closes his eyes when the smoke threatens to get in them, breaking the hold you weren’t even aware he had on you.

The joint hangs from his lips, a thin trail of smoke billowing up around the rim of his hat and curling toward the ceiling. He inhales slowly, the smoke filling his lungs before he exhales and opens his eyes, watching the way you look at him. So laid-back with that dreamy expression on your face, his thoughts betray him for the third time tonight. An image created from smoke appears in his mind: you're looking at him exactly the way you are now, only you're on your knees as he cradles your face in his hands, fucking himself into your warm mouth. That’s the tamest fantasy he's had tonight. The others are far more explicit, like scenes pulled straight from a hentai.

Throughout the night, Jisung struggled to focus on any of his study material. It wasn't just because he was mentally drained from studying. Sure, that was part of it, but the sight of you chewing on your lush pink lips while you went over your notes for music theory kept distracting him. They looked so soft and your constant chewing made them red and puffy. He wondered if you dug your teeth into the flesh just like that when Danny was inside you. He couldn't help but picture you whimpering and whining past your trapped bottom lip while he drilled his dick into your sweet pussy. He already knows what you sound like so it's not hard to imagine the faces you would make.

He couldn't shake the image of those same lips of yours being covered in his warm, sticky cum. His imagination was too vivid with you right in front of him and the weed from the gummy he ate before you and Danny showed up. He had been rock hard and throbbing for hours, making studying beyond frustrating. It turned into a battle with his own mind. So he was more than happy to welcome the smoke sesh. Sure, he felt a bit guilty for daydreaming about his buddy's girl, but it's not like he'd ever act on it. It's all just harmless thoughts, he told himself. It's not like he was in love with you or anything… he just found you to be the embodiment of perfection in human form. Seriously, Danny calls you Jisung's twin more times than you're aware, so it's natural for him to think of you as the coolest chick he's ever met. You wouldn't be in the band he created if he didn't think highly of you.

“You want another hit?” he asks, holding the joint out to you with his index finger and thumb.

Your eyes lock onto his hands, noticing the multiple silver rings that decorate each of his long fingers and the veins that crisscross the back of his. More times than you can count you've heard girls talking about how sexy his hands were and you never noticed how right they are until now. Noticing the way his fingers loosely wraps around the neck of the guitar, your brain goes to the gutter and starts wondering if that's how he holds his cock when he's jerking off to the sound of you getting fucked. You know he does it. You could see it in his face one day when you bumped into him on the way to the bathroom. His hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks were flushed and the large swallow he made when your bodies connected told you what he was doing in the next room.

With a slow nod, you sit up and move closer and take it from him, your fingers brushing against his again only this time there's something that passes between you but you ignore it, bringing the joint to your lips and taking a deep drag.

You inhale deeply, letting the smoke fill your lungs before you exhale slowly, watching the tendrils curl into the air. You feel the heat, the burn of the smoke and it feels almost euphoric. The room feels warmer, cozier, and everything with your boyfriend is forgotten for now with more thc in you. Jisung watches you, completely captivated by the way you wrap your lips around the filter end gently and suck in the smoke. His eyes darken for just a second before he pats the space in front of him on the floor.

“Come here, I'll teach you the basics,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

“Really?” you ask excitedly after taking another puff and setting the joint into the ashtray. He chuckles, nodding with a large smile your way.

You close the distance, settling between his legs with your back to his front and it feels like the most normal natural thing in the world. He hands you the instrument resting it in your lap, and his arms encircle you as he guides your hands to the strings. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel his breath against your neck, slow and even. His breath is warm, smelling faintly of the weed you just shared, and sugary soda that's oddly comforting to you.

“What song do you want to play?” he asks, his voice a soft hush against your ear. The sensation to your ear and the deep rumble on your back from when he speaks, makes you shiver involuntarily.

You think for a moment, your mind swimming through the smoky haze and then you smile. "Thinking Out Loud?" you say phrasing it like a question.

He chuckles softly, his breath tickling your ear. "Ah, my man Sheeran. Good choice, y/n. Not gonna lie, I thought you'd pick one of our songs." he murmurs, taking your hand in his and begins to guide your fingers over the strings.

The notes are clumsy at first, your movements unsure but Jisung is patient, his hands steady as he teaches you the chords. You giggle softly as you fumble through the chords, “Good thing I'm a drummer. This is harder than it looks.” You say with a laugh and Jisung’s laughter mingles with yours.

His hands are warm and strong, his touch firm but gentle. He's the perfect guitar teacher, kind and informative. Once you start to get the hang of playing, he lets you play on your own, his arms still loosely around you, elbows resting on his knees. He begins to sing softly, his voice smooth and melodic fills the room and your heart with a warm, fuzzy feeling.

"... People fall in love in mysterious ways, maybe just the touch of a hand,"

His voice is mesmerizing, hypnotic even and you’re impressed. You've heard him sing but nothing as soft as this. Each note wraps around you like a tight embrace. You join in on the last four verses, the thc boosting your confidence and your voices come together sweetly. The song ends with the last note and chord lingering in the air. You’re giggling excitedly, so lost in the music, that you almost don’t notice the hardness pressing against your back until your laughter subsides. Your body feels suddenly hot when you do, a flush spreading across your skin. You turn your head slightly to look at him, intending to say something, but the words catch in your throat.

He knows you can feel it, how can you not? He's rock hard. It's not that he was thinking of anything particularly sexy. It was your singing voice that did it for him. The way your voices mingled together sounded hauntingly beautiful to him. Not to mention the barely noticeable vibration through your body when you sang. He has no control over the effect you had on him. He willed is dick to go down the entire time you two sang but there was nothing he could do but pray you wouldn't notice. That was out of the question once your laughter shook your body. His cock twitched  inside of his shorts, pulsating against your back. He held his breath and hoped you wouldn't say anything but you turned to look at him. You parted your lips prepared to speak but said nothing, only quiet panting made its way out of you. The way you looked at him, the way you felt in his arms and your lips, right there so close to his, made something inside of him crack.

Before you can react, Jisung’s lips are on yours, kissing you with sudden urgency. Your mind goes blank, every thought drowned out by the intensity of the kiss. His hands are on your hips, pulling you back closer to him like you'll drift away like the smoke of the joints from earlier. You can’t help but respond, your fingers tangling in his hair knocking his hat off as you kiss him back desperate for more. Jisung’s grip on you tightens as his tongue explores your mouth with a desperate need. The guitar is forgotten, pushed aside as he shifts, turning you so that you're facing him. He gently lays you down onto the pile of pillows on the floor, his body pressing you down into the pile that feels like clouds. The sensation is overwhelming, every touch, every kiss, it's all amplified by the cannabis coursing through your veins.

"Y/N," Jisung whispers, his voice rough with desire, as he presses his clothed erection against your core. The friction is maddening, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you and you moan in response as your hips come up off the ground, bucking against him.

You're not thinking anymore, your hands just move on their own seeking more of what's making you feel so good. Everything around you is hazy and black around the edges like a dream. All you’re aware of is the incredible sensation that seems to take over your entire body.

"Jisung…" you breathe, your voice trembling.

He looks at you, his eyes dark with desire. He silently pleads for you to tell him to stop but you can't. You don't want him to stop. You want him, need him in a way that you can't describe with words.

"Don't stop." you whisper back, your voice barely audible. “More.”

He growls low in his throat, his hands squeezing your hips as he starts to move faster, the pressure building, driving you both closer to the edge. It feels incredible, each rub, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through you. Jisung’s hips move faster, his breath coming in harsh pants as he grinds against you. You can feel yourself getting close, building to a crescendo and you know he's close too, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He doesn't care that he's about to cum in his pants just from dry humping you. You feel so damn incredible in his arms. But you stop him suddenly, your hands on his chest and he looks at you with wide glassy eyes. 

"I need you inside me." you say, your voice breathy and husky.

He stops his movements, his eyes searching yours. "Are you sure?" he asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod, your hands moving to his shorts, tugging them down. "Yes. Please. Fuck me, Jisung."

In the haze of weed and pleasure, a thought cuts through the fog. This is wrong. Danny is just a few feet away, sleeping peacefully in Jisung’s bed. But the thought is fleeting, quickly drowned out by the overwhelming feeling of Jisung’s body pressing into yours. He fumbles with his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. You lift your hips, helping him slide your leggings and panties down in one quick move. Back between your legs, he positions himself at your entrance and a bead of precum forms, dripping down and disappearing into one of the pillows. His eyes meet yours as he rubs the head of his cock up and over your folds, collecting your arousal and getting tip nice and wet. You shudder keeping your eyes locked onto his. 

He rubs the length of his cock against you, teasing your clit in a circular motion. Maybe if he doesn't actually fuck you, it's not that big of a betrayal to his friend, he thinks lamely, knowing how idiotic that sounds. Still, Jisung convinces himself that if there's no actual penetration, maybe he won't feel so guilty. If he just gets you both off like this, he could somewhat live with himself.

Your body shakes under him each time he thrusts upward, and he can feel your pussy getting wetter, making things far more slippery. "Yeah, you can cum like this, y/n, I know you can. Just cum like this for me. Fuck, let me cum on your stomach, and we can innocently continue our night," he coaxes you inside his head, his hips moving faster. You're so wet that Jisung slips and slides over your pussy with ease. He misjudges when he goes to push up again, moving far too quickly and slams hard into your cunt, making you both moan louder than intended. Both of you freeze, glancing over at Danny as he shifts in his sleep and rolls over to face the back of the couch.

“Oh fuck,” you and Jisung groan quietly in unison, trying to stay still with your hearts beating fast with fear.

"Fuck, you're so tight, y/n," he groans, his voice quiet and strained. "You feel so fucking good."

He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. But it doesn't take long for the need to take over and soon he's fucking you forcefully and fast, his hips slamming into yours with a desperate intensity. Each thrust hits a spot deep inside you, that makes you want to scream. You close your eyes and see spots of lights behind your lids in the same purple hue that glows around the TV in the room. You can barely form coherent thoughts, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. All you can do is moan his name, over and over, as he takes your pleasure higher. The room is filled with the slapping sounds of skin against skin, the wet, obscene noises of your arousal mixing with your moans and his grunts.

He leans down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss. His tongue explores your mouth with the same intensity as his thrusts and you can taste the sweet saltiness of his sweat on his skin. His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples through your bra, adding to the onslaught of sensations. You can’t keep your hands off him, your fingers dig into his back as he fucks you hard, gliding down his skin making thin faint red lines. Jisung's thoughts are a mess. He's never felt like this before, never been this out of control. He knows he shouldn't be doing this, that he's betraying his best friend, but he can't stop. Your pussy feels too good to him, too perfect. You're perfect. The way your pussy pulls him in and squeezes his cock. It's heaven to him.

“So wet… oh god. So fucking perfect, y/n. Fuck,” he whispers, looking down at you.

You can only moan in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as he thrusts harder, faster. The pleasure is a flame setting you both ablaze. It’s messy and intense, growing bigger and wilder with every touch and movement amplified by the high.

“Say my name,” he demands, his voice rough.

Jisung’s dominance surprises you, the way he takes control, guiding your body with a confidence that leaves you breathless. You open your eyes and gasp at the expression on his face. His face is a contradiction of emotions.

“Jisung!” you cry out, the pleasure overwhelming.

“That’s right,” he murmurs, his hand sliding between your bodies to find your clit. He rubs it in time with his thrusts, sending you spiraling toward the edge. “Just like that, baby,” he groans, with a smirk on his lips. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Ji… Jisung, I’m close.” you gasp, your hands pulling him closer. He speeds up, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. The tension coils tighter and tighter inside you.

"Cum when I tell you to, y/n. Just a little more." he moans, closing his eyes. "Ah! Little more, a little more, baby. Yeah... oh fuck." He whispers, slowing his pace to pull out of you completely and thrust back in quickly.

He can feel himself getting closer and he starts to move faster. His thrusts become more frantic, more crazed, and you can’t hold back any longer. You can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, the pleasure is too overwhelming. You cry out, arching your back and squeezing your eyes shut tight as your body tenses and the orgasm hits. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure floods through your veins leaving you breathless, shaking.

"Ji, Ji I'm cumming!" you gasp, your hands gripping him hard feeling him batter your cervix with the head of his cock.

Jisung’s grip tightens on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent. "Yeah, cum for me," he growls, his voice thick with desire. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Oh fuck!"

Your walls clench around him, milking his cock as he continues to pound into you. With a loud moan, you fall apart. Your orgasm rips through you with an intensity that leaves you feeling utterly and thoroughly fucked and incapacitated.

"Fuck, I'm cumming, y/n! I'm cumming-Ah!" he groans loudly, eyes squeezing shut.

He thrusts a few more times before he cums, spilling into you as he moans your name. The feeling of his warmth filling you is almost too much and it prolongs your orgasm, leaving you trembling and spent beneath him.

For a few seconds you both don't move, panting hard as your breathing slowly returns to its regular pace but as the high of the orgasm fades, reality crashes down like a tidal wave. Jisung pulls out of you quickly, his face full of panic and regret.

"What the fuck did we do?" he mutters, more to himself than to you. His hands shake as he runs them through his hair, over and over, looking like he's on the verge of a breakdown.

“What did I do? I'm dreaming... yeah. I gotta be,” he screams internally. But the warmth of your pussy around him, still lingers, insisting otherwise. He glances down, seeing his cock slick and creamy with your cum, more undeniable evidence of what just happened. This wasn’t a weed-induced wet dream; he’s done the unthinkable— he's fucked his best friend's girlfriend.

You sit up and reach out to comfort him, but he flinches away from your touch, the gesture cutting you like a knife. "I don’t regret it," you whisper, your voice trembling but sincere. But the look on his face is clear; he does.

"We can’t do this again," Jisung says, his voice firm but soft. "No matter how amazing it felt, we can’t. I... I can't betray Danny like that again, jagi. Fuck, y/n. I'm sorry."

Despite knowing you shouldn't, you can't help it; you lean in and your lips meet his. For a sweet, blissful second, Jisung kisses you back. You could blame your actions on the weed but you know you're more aware when you're high than when you're drunk. Jisung breaks the kiss and covers his mouth with his hands, glancing over at his sleeping friend.

“This is wrong, y/n. So, so fucking wrong,” he whispers, his voice filled with pain. “I've known Danny since we were in diapers. What happened... It was a mistake. We can't…”

His face is full of pain and confusion, tears threatening to spill over. You want to reach out, to comfort him, but he doesn't even want you near him let alone touch him now. That realization shatters you. Your own eyes sting with the threat of tears and you turn away, quickly gathering your clothes to hide your face.

You nod, fighting back tears as you get dressed. The lingering taste of weed on your tongue now tastes like ash and guilt gnaws at your insides at seeing Jisung so conflicted. He watches you, his silence heavy with all the words he wishes he could say. He wants to stop you, to pull you into his arms and kiss away the tears that threaten to fall but he knows he can't. You're Danny's girlfriend even if he doesn't deserve you. Jisung's already fucked up once, he can't again no matter what his heart is telling him.

Your hands are trembling while you fumble to pull on your pants, wishing there was something you could say to make things better. The silence is deafening, broken only by your shaky breathing and Danny's soft snoring. You gather your textbooks and notes, desperately trying to hold yourself together, to not break down before you can make out the door. Jisung lets you go, his heart breaking with every step you take. Inside, he's screaming for you to stay, but he doesn’t move. He just lets you go because he knows that it’s for the best.

"I'm sorry, Ji." you say, your voice cracking. "I’m so sorry..."

Your voice sounds broken and It's barely audible, but it feels like a scream in the silence. When your hand turns the knob, the tears finally spill over and you rush through the open door. The door closes behind you with a finality that feels like a knife to the heart.

Jisung stares blankly at the door as it shuts, the lingering scent of sex and weed hanging in the air. The bitter taste of disloyalty and heartache, like poison, is bitter on his tongue. He collapses onto the floor after pulling up his shorts and buries his face in his hands. The room feels emptier than ever and Danny's sleeping presence is a constant reminder of the betrayal, making him want to throw up.

"Y/N... what the fuck have we done?" he whispers to himself, his voice breaking with a choking sob, wondering if you two will ever get through this without being burned even more.

★𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱★

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[solar4seekstron]

Before and So Forth Chapter One:

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!Reader

TransformersOne!Megatronus x Cybertronian!GN!reader (Bit of Starscream x reader- kinda)

Chapter One: Megatronus

Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five,

Trigger warning: 16+???, Megatronus and Starscream want you, Sentinel eventually. Nonconsensual touching at first…I think that’s it 030

(This is going to be a long one. The story takes place before the events when Sentinel kills the primes and all th High Gaurd have to hide and plan to destroy sentinel. In this story because I enjoy tat sort of yandereish crap I wanted to make it x reader where everyone basically wants that reader cake lmfao. But not in an extreme way. There isn’t many females but I can add a few if so requested. I’m not sure about Solus Prime but I‘ll talk about that at the end. For now it’s mostly Megatronus, Starscream, Soundwave Shockwave, and Sentinel. I’d love to add more females I swear. My DM’s are a safe place if you wish to request any females. Or other males. I’ll do my best.

The plan is once it comes to the death of the Primes. (Weirdly excited to write how that’ll go) I’m going to give myself more work and write different path for the reader like if she doesn’t know what happened and Sentinel lies to them or the reader does know and hides with the high guard. Eventually with the sentinel timeline the reader ends up with Megatronus cause of course. It’s going to be a long one so please be patent….like with this chapter lol.

This chapter won’t have smut but it is spicy. Close to the end. If you don’t like don’t read this page and account is only for people who enjoy these to come to . Dont bully or harass anyone and leave.

Anyway my loves please enjoy and I shall release Chapter two next week. So every Tuesday :D)

Being a part of the High Guard who fought alongside and for the Primes.

Have always been something you felt pride but at the same time almost guilty for. As time in the years went by you began to wonder if you’re even a true part since there were so many others above and even better than you.

Such as Starscream, Shockwave, and Soundwave. You were a jet. Someone who seeks and plays as a scout most times.

You did the Quintessons hunt most of the time. Sort of gaining a reputation with the others even the ones who didn’t know you that well.

You were in some ways close to Megatronus Prime along with Starscream, Shockwave, and Soundwave. Megartronus like the other primes would have his own little group of the high guard.

All from his own picking and hopes to have them join him in his deception cause for the far future after the war was over.

Much like how the other primes have their own group of the high guard.

You always had a smile and softness in your voice. And yet you always showed time again and again of your strength.

Along with how you always executed your missions as you often enjoyed either sparring or training by yourself before and after. These brought you joy even as others didn’t understand. You also knew of sentinel but wasn’t that close to him.

You two know each other mostly on speaking terms and after the past cycles as you two continued to work for the primes. He always kept trying to get you to be his. Believing someone “easy” and so “strong” should stay by his side. And not with others who disrespect him.

A guard who uses swords that resides on your side and on your back. You were almost as tall as Starscream. Being a couple inches shorter.

Over time there was a sort of rumor going around. That Megatronus and Solus Prime were currently courting each other but were trying to keep it professional. You didn’t pay much mind to this as although you care for both deeply as they are who you follow.

That feeling of a sort of affection and even lust was something that you know should be buried and kept to yourself. You admired Megatronus as a leader besides Zeta Prime. Same thing to the trio but you never felt the same with sentinel.

At times you and other High Guards would train with Megatronus. Though you notice you were at every meeting and Megatronus seems to enjoy sparring with you most.

One morning as you walked from your recharge. You head to the training area believing you’ll see the other High Guard as you make your way. Once you entered you were greeted by the others as a few have already started training.

Starscream was standing watching the others train as he had a stern look on his voice. Once he noticed you his almost frown turned into a smile. he then greeted you with open arms

”Ah, Y/N glad you can join us. As always, I would appreciate it if you would come early.” You would chuckle and put your hands on your hips as you stand next to him

”Sorry Starscream, but I try to enjoy any amount of time to recharge I can get. My backstrut has been killing me lately.” Starscream would hum and sets his hand on your waist, pulling you a bit closer as his other one rests on his own hip.

”You and me both. All part of being in the high guard. But at least we have you instead of these slow seekers who just keep WASTING MY TIME!”

”Starscream when did we talk about?”

”That energon is meant to eat not to shove down someones-“

”The other thing!”

”Don’t bully other High Guard just cause they’re not as good as me..” He rolls his eyes

”Starscream!”

”To be nice! Ok ok must you scold me every time?” You nod and and put your hand on his shoulder. You two continue to watch the other do their training

After a few mega cycles over the direct private comm was Soundwave reaching you. You then excuse yourself as you walk out. Starscream already sparring 3 v 1 as he yells at them to do better. As you walked out answering within 3 seconds

“Soundwave?”

”Y/N. Needed at Megatronus training quarters.”

”Affirmative.” The call then ends and you make your way over to Megatronus training quarters.

He makes his way to the room. Soon seeing that you were alone. You look around as you look deeper and a begin to wonder where the Prime was.

As you were about to turn around the door you came through then opens showing Megatronus walking in. He stands to be very tall as he towers over you his hand resting on the door frame as he stared down at you. He then speaks, his voice deep and almost roaring as he finally spoke to you.

”More early then I expected. I only hope the others will start taking your lead.”

He finally passes you as you had bowed your head. Your arm and hand over your chest to show respect.

”My Prime-“

”Haven’t I told you, you mustn’t be so formal around me when we’re alone. I thought we were friends.” You two were sort of friends in secret. He respects you as a companion in battle. At least that’s how far you believe his affections is towards you.

”My apologies, Megatronus.” You look down your arm still over your chest. But Megatronus only glances at you as he then puts his spear down and does a few arm stretches. You stand there unsure of the others if they were to join anytime soon

”Remember what I taught you when thundercracker was able to hold you down after an hour long fight?”

”Don’t forget ones weak point around the arm?”

”Yes..I soon found after my last battle with those Quintissons basterds that the same is almost the same with them but it’s with those mouths. Pull at the outer armor hard enough.”

”Uh.. Sir?”

”I wish for you to try your best to defeat me Y/N.”

“So the others?”

”Won’t be joining us. You’ll be at a disadvantage with the large size of the creatures. You know this.” He walked up to you. Staring down at you.

You only stare up at him and just nod your head.

Looking away before backing up to put your swords down. You can feel Megatronus eyes on you. Once you turned around he was soon throwing a punch at you.

You were able to dodge it sort fo flying to the side and quickly grabbing his fast lifting up your body to use your legs to kick the side of his head. You can hear him frown as you then push yourself up on his arm and land on his back. Getting on your arms and pushing yourself far behind him as he turns and look at you in a fast motion.

When he charges at you, you only got on fours moving in a quick motion to left and right dodging his punches as he stands over you.

He was close to fully grabbing your waist. But using you body strength to move yourself. Grabbing his arm with both hands you turned youself upside down your legs landing on his arm.

Then jumping up high so you’re over him about to kick him over the head until he catches your leg.

”Had enough?” He asks his voice booming

”Not even close.” You respond as he then throws you into the ground. But you were fast on your arms and feet again.

Taking in the impact. Something you grew use to whenever you trained under him. A couple mega-cycles go by as you and he keep at it. He was able to throw in a few good punches into you as you did as well. Though he did put in a bit more blows but seems to always avoid your head

Then before you know it your shift for the evening to midnight was in one mega cycle. He had you pinned down by your chest as you tried to catch your breath. He was over you almost out of breath as well

”As always you’re the only one who can get as much of a punch in me as the other Primes. Maybe there’s a Prime in your spark….after all.” You two stay silent for a little while longer until you let out a small sigh

”I should…start heading for my lunch before my shift….Megtraonus..” he seemed almost disappointed. Though it was hard to tell with his mask. But you can see he narrrowed his eyes and leaned down

”Tell me….” He said in almost a whisper. His mask only inches away from your face as he glared

”Do you believe that silly rumor…Of me courting Solus.”

”It’s not my place to care and worry of such things-

“I’ve seen the way you looked at me Y/N. And that ridicules could not be more false…” He uses the hand that was on your chest to move to you face gently cupping the side of your face

”And yet you still said nothing. Do you truly fear me for being a Prime?” You shake you head

”No I-“

”Silence.” He put his thumb over your eyes. You put your hands on his arm only to hear him remove his mask. You then stop. He leaned his head down to be right next to yours as you then feel his breath on your neck

”Megatronus?-“ You’re startled as you feel his lips on your shoulder. You try your best not to move but also wondered if you can even stop him. He kisses your neck slowly making his way past your jaw to your lips. Before he touches you lips he stops for a moment

”Megatronu-“ He interrupts you. Kissing your lips finally as his other hand rests wrapping almost around your waist.

His thumb gently rubbing over your chest. You took note he was very gently givin his large size. Basically covering you with his body as he continues to press kisses on your lips.

You tried your best to not return the kiss but when he gently squeezed his hand around your waist you gave in leaning up closer to return the kiss. He smirks carrying out the kiss.

You the get a direct comm from Soundwave as you tried you best to gain your self control. Your hands gently squeezing his arm. The one that has his hand over your eyes. When you tried to turn your head and even back with the little space you have.

His hand over your eyes only stay firm to keep you in place. Your hands find their self on his chest. He stops lifting his head a little but only a few inches.

”Megatronus I must meet Soundwave. A-and this. We shouldn’t- I- I can’t-“

”You deny my affections, Y/N?“

”No Megatronus I-“

”Will you allow me to court you.”

”Sir-”

”Answer your Prime. If you so deny me..” You struggle with your words. His lips then touching yours once more. This even more passionate in a way. After a moment he pulls away using the hand that rested on your waist to put his mask back on

”Quite lovely. Waited over centuries to finally have you in my hands Y/N. Tell me do you regret our moment. Are the feelings to show daily not so how you feel? Do you not feel these “affections” towards Your Prime.” He removed his hand from ver you eyes as he helps you up.. Him now kneeling as he looked down at you

”…..I do..But it’s not my place to-“

“I shall see you on our next training. Oh and don’t forget.” One of his hands rested around your waist. Bringing you a bit closer

”This stays between us. Although in secret. I shall court you and make you one as a Prime. My word is Truth.”

You just stare up at him. You nod slowly and try to pull away a bit. But he kept his firm grip until he eventually lets go. Letting you go. You bow your head and make your way to retrieve your swords.

Once at the door you look at him. His back to you as only his head was side ways. Glancing at you. You bow your head once more then walk out the door closing behind you.

You then make your way to Soundwave your fists clenching as you scold and continue to overthink what just happened. he was right you loved it and wished for it before. But you wished for it with your other closest friends.

But you disciplined yourself for centuries and now that one of your friends, no your Prime Megatronus has made this move and revealing of his feelings towards you. You start to feel your heart racing. What are you to do if he does make you a prime.

What about your friends. Is he really this attracted to you or is he just using you because of his power. Could he just be doing this to any other High Guard. You stop for a moment knowing you’re alone and let out a breath

”He’ll get bored…..soon enough..” You continue to walk making your way to Soundwave. On 40 minutes (Not sure what the transformers word for minutes is sorry) until your next mission.

Yay first chapter! I swear my writing will get better. I definitely missed something or messed up somewhere. Hope y’all enjoyed it. There will be smut soon. Be patient my dears. NOW REQUESTS!!!!

I also take requests in my DMs. Have a good Morning/Afternoon/Night!

[inuiiwonderland]

You like him a lot but later realize that he doesn’t like you in that way. You then decided to give up on your feelings for him and move on. And move on you did. You fell in love with somebody else and he later fell in love with you, but it was already to late.

A/n: This is a request for @mwankami! I’m so sorry for this being late but here you go! I hope you like it🙃 (I’m sorry if the characters seem ooc😞 I haven’t played twst in a fat minute) also I didn’t know if you wanted reader to be female or male so I just made it gn! Anyways I hope you still like it!

-

Floyd leech

You could only stare longingly at him as he messed around with his teammates.

He looks so beautiful

You were so busy staring at him that you didn’t hear your friend calling your name from beside you until he pinched your arm.

“Ow! What the hell ace!”

“Finally! I was calling your name so many times now! What were you staring at anyways?” You look directly back at floyd and that was enough to answer his question. Ace groans.

“Ugh don’t tell me you were looking at Floyd again”

“I was not” You lied. Causing ace to roll his eyes.

“You definitely were” You just ignored him and grabbed your bag from off the floor as you stood up.

“Hey where are you going? Practice isn’t over for a few more minutes!”

“I’m going back to my dorm. I have a presentation for Mr. crewel class and I want to get it done with early”

“Ughh fine. But text me once you're done!” You waved him off and walked away. But not before taking one last look at Floyd before exiting out the gym.

-

Your friends always question you about your “small” crush on the unhinged tall eel boy. Always saying how can you like someone like Floyd leech? The scary second year who likes to mess and bother anyone and the Floyd leech with unpredictable mood swings.

But you never really cared about their opinions on Floyd.

You find Floyd to be very beautiful.

His fair skin and tall height really caught your interest. But what captured your attention the most were his eyes. The pretty heterochromia eyes that he has really puts you in a trance and you could stare at them for hours.

Floyd leech has you deeply head over heels for him

But the thing is…Floyd doesn’t seem to like you in that kind of way.

He likes you as a friend yes but as a crush no. That’s the only thing that’s stopping you from telling him your feelings.

You sigh as you make your way back to your dorm. Maybe you should just give up on floyd. You already dropped so many obvious hints about your feelings for him but he is either oblivious or doesn’t feel the same and is ignoring your obvious hints.

“Oh floyd…what are you doing to me”

-

4 months later

Today is night raven college basketball team's big game against royal sword academy.

Cheers could be heard in the gym as everyone cheered for the night raven basketball team. You remember ace excitedly telling you about their big game a few weeks ago and that you should definitely come instead of being locked away in your dorm like always.

And of course you came. You didn’t want to disappoint ace by not showing up to his basketball game.

“C’mon you got this ace!” You and your friends cheered. Ace looks up at you guys and smiles before passing the ball to one of his teammates.

As the game continued, You couldn’t help but stare at one specific player.

His long brown hair tied up in a bun and the total concentration looked on his face as the game grew more intense.

You practically have heart in your eyes.

You all cheered loudly as he managed to shoot a score which resulted in night raven winning against RSA. You cheered loudly and felt your heart skip a beat as jamil looked at you and winked.

You ran down the bleachers and congratulated Ace before walking up to Jamil and congratulating him on the win.

“You did amazing out there!”

“Thank you y/n” He smiles. You two began to talk, unaware of the pair of eyes staring both of you down.

He frowns as he watches how nervous and giddily you were around jamil.

“What’s with that frown dear brother? You just won against the royal sword academy basketball team. You should be smiling” Jade teased. He was fully aware of what caused his brother's mood to instantly change.

“I’m going back to the dorm” Floyd tells his brother before exiting out the gym doors.

Floyd leech is in love with you. But sadly, he fell in love when you started moving on.

Now he’s the one who’s head over heels

And it’s already too late

-

Jade leech

“Are you listening y/n?” You blinked a couple times before mentally cursing yourself once you notice that you have completely spaced out.

Jade beautiful mismatched eyes stared at you as you hurriedly looked away while mumbling something underneath your breath. Already feeling shy and embarrassed.

“ ‘m sorry jade. I didn’t mean to space out” Jade smiles.

“Don’t worry y/n. Are you sure you're alright though? We can study another time if you’re not feeling well”

“Oh no! I was just thinking about something! Let’s continue studying”

“Oh? Are you sure?”

“Hundred percent sure! Don’t worry”

The two of you continue to study for the next hour. Every so often you would sneak glances at jade and watch as he reads through some notes while asking if you understand the subject.

You tried your best to concentrate, you really did! But his smooth, calm voice and beautiful heterochromia eyes were easily distracting you from paying attention.

The study session between the two of you soon came to an end and you had to stop yourself from asking him to stay for at least a few more minutes.

“I’m looking forward to our next study session. And good luck on tomorrow’s test” He says as he packs up his things. The two of you bid each other goodbye and you watched as he walked further and further away from your dorm. Once he was gone, you walked quietly back to your room as Floyd words ran through your head.

“Sorry shrimpy, but it seems like jade doesn’t like you in that way”

“Ah really?”

“He said he only sees you as a friend. Aw man and I was starting to get excited to have you as my in law! Stupid jade” You giggled at your friend. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your heart knowing that jade doesn’t like you back.

-

7 months later

You walk down the empty halls of night raven. It was lunchtime so everyone was in the cafeteria. You make your way outside with two trays and smile once you spot a certain someone.

He was leaning against a tree with his eyes closed. You could tell that he was asleep.

“Silver” You call out. You gently lay down both of the food trays before shaking silver awake. He slowly opens his eyes and your heart skips a beat once his beautiful violet irises meet yours.

“I brought you your lunch” You say as you sit comfortably beside him. You hand him his tray and he smiles at you.

“Thank you y/n”

“No problem. So, how’s training going so far?”

The two of you chatted for the rest of lunch time. Talking about how your day has been so far and other stuff. The two of you were so engrossed by the conversation that you two didn’t hear someone calling out your name from the distance.

Jade watches as you laugh at whatever silver said as his cheeks grow pink and he’s looking at you so lovingly.

“Man seems like jellyfish got to them before you” Floyd says behind him. Jade just watches as you feed silver some of your food. He swears he could see the hearts in your eyes as you feed silver.

He forces a smile. Ignoring the throbbing pain in his heart.

“They are happy. That’s all that matters”

And he walks away with a broken heart.

-

[drunkenkissesatdusk]

ARE YOU FLIRTING?

pairings — simon (dinner in america) x reader

warnings — swearing, simon may get a little mean idk yet, finally not an already established relationship, a little oblivious reader and a pretty blatant simon, tiny bit of projecting (just to say the reader likes riot grrl music), one mention of smoking (and a scene where they do smoke weed i’m sorry it’s a part of his character forgive me please)

summary — working at a record shop was supposed to be fun and relaxed, yet you (specifically you) have a regular customer who sometimes asks for recommendations and seems to have a staring problem.

notes — okay so hey… i watched dinner and america… this is my literal longest thing written sorry

i. the first time you met Simon

━━━━━━━ IT WAS QUIET, the silent hum of music flowing in from the vinyl player. it was connected to speakers, filling what would have been an unbearable silence, which would conjure a consistent ringing in your ears. you didn’t want that.

you were used to the dragging and seemingly endless Mondays at the record shop. most days did seem quiet, minus the days there would be some real shows of people who can’t sell physical copies and people who can’t sing. you hated it, but you loved working with music.

besides, who’d pass up being able to play whatever record they wanted through the entire store?

you wouldn’t.

flipping through a comic you grabbed from the dwindling comic section, the door rang. briefly looking up, a man walked through. he seemed pissed off, but clearly wasn’t mad at you.

you could see the top of his head at the punk rock section, and didn’t let your gaze linger. the comic - what one you chose, you didn’t seem to remember the title of - was somewhat capturing.

you didn’t like the female character, you didn’t like the male character either (you didn’t like any characters), but you had nothing better to do. if you had been in high school still, you’d probably be doing homework hunched over the front counter.

“excuse me?” you looked up, a police officer with his shiny badge was standing in front of you, and you could see the guy crouched on the floor. you’d never lied to an officer of the law, but everyone starts somewhere.

“hey; what’s up? we just got a new order of Metallica, if you’ve got somewhat good music taste.” you grinned. the officer didn’t, and your face fell again.

“i’m lookin’ for this man.” he slapped a flyer poster down, you looked at the page. Simon, whoever he was, was clearly in need of a haircut.

“so’s a haircut.” you scoffed, sliding it forwards and shaking your head, “sorry dude, no Simon’s here.” the officer glared at you and looked to a corner suddenly.

your eyes flashed to who you’d guess to be Simon, crouched behind a rack. hurriedly, you waved for him to lay flat. dropping your hair seconds before the officer saw, he gave you a hard nod and left.

opening the employees only entrance to behind the counter, it wasn’t hard to find him laying on the ground. “i’m guessing you’re Simon?” you hummed, standing over him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“who are you?” he spat. after a brief introduction, you walked away from him. sliding to the riot grrl section, your hands seemed to automatically find a Bikini Kill album. you grinned at walked back behind the counter.

you didn’t see Simon afterwards, he’d left out of the front entrance and walked somewhere. you were reading your comic again.

ii. second time meeting him, and he stays longer.

━━━━━━━ FRIDAYS, the only days that your manager opened the stage in the back of the building for live performances. typically it was packed, and you’d have to remove a few drunk teenagers and break up a few couples from having sex right then and there, but it seemed emptier than before.

you found out that quickly that you’d spoken too soon, as a flood of people came in and the back door bands used buzzed. you groaned internally - and externally - and opened the door. flashing your customer service smile, you pointed them to the back.

there was a small fluster of background noise after everyone went to the back and flooded that area.

you already missed your silence.

“hey, you the worker from Monday?” Simon, familiar in the second cluster of people, asked you when he separated from the hoard. you nodded, biting back a yawn and cracking your back when you finally stood up straight.

“not gonna go listen t’the band?” you slurred as you fought back a yawn again.

“nah, not yet. those assholes don’t know how to play.” Simon scoffed. you grinned tiredly.

“almost every band that plays here doesn’t know how to. i wish we sold alcohol here, i’d love to drink right now.” you hummed, tapping your hand against the table. “or coffee.” you muttered. the muttered phrase was meant for just you, but Simon seemed to have heard.

he didn’t say anything else, spinning around and walking to the back.

iii. meeting after rude customers

━━━━━━━ YOU DIDNT REALLY REMEMBER what day it was. but you were standing behind the same counter like before, as you did nearly every day of the week.

“excuse me?” the woman was blond, wearing high-heel stilettos and a short pink skirt and matching juicy couture top, “you sold my son this, and he is not allowed to listen to whatever soon-to-be-drug-dealer drugs you put in this music. i want a refund.” she annoyingly chewed her gum, loud nails clacking against her glasses when she went to readjust them.

“sorry ma’am, no refunds.” you huffed.

“that’s just… unacceptable! you have to give me a refund.” she exclaimed.

“dude, i literally can’t. im sorry but im not allowed to.” deadpanning her, your eyes - donning a bored look cast through her eyes - met her sunglasses. you could see your expression, uninterested and tired. she lowered them to glare at you.

“i don’t care what the hell your rules say, give me a fucking refund!” she exclaimed.

“dude can you not yell? it’s not in my hands.” you scoffed.

“give me a fucking refund!” she screamed. then the door rang (only you seemed to hear it) and you could hear a slightly familiar thudding footsteps approaching you and this woman and her awkward looking son.

“christ lady, shut the hell up and accept that you aren’t getting a damn refund.” Simon overstepped her, cutting her off and practically forcing her away from you and the counter.

you grinned small, leaning against the back counter. it didn’t take awhile for the woman to give up and walk off. her son silently followed behind her.

a silence followed afterwards, you waited for Simon to say something and you assumed he was waiting for you to say something. neither of you did for a little, and you silently cursed yourself out for not having an album spinning at the moment.

“people do that often?” Simon reached into his pocket, shuffling around in it until he produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. you cringed silently.

“nah, only when i’m super lucky.” you huffed. Simon brought a cigarette to his lips and flicked his lighter on. promptly, he lit the cigarette and took a drag from it.

“call that lucky?” he raised an eyebrow.

“ask a lot of questions?” you retaliated, exiting the front counter and finding yourself in the riot grrl section again. after you found an album, you opened it, prepared it, and put it on the record player.

with music in the background, you let another tsunami of silence flush over the two of you. it wasn’t awkward since you were more focused on unpacking a newer shipment of vinyls.

the store had recent had a flush of customers and bands playing, which helped you get a raise, but didn’t help your slight social awkwardness. you managed to cope by not hanging out with people outside of work anymore.

with your sudden interest switching to the new vinyls, you didn’t notice Simon leaving.

iv. coworkers and being hit on

━━━━━━━ AS MUCH AS IT SEEMED YOU DIDN’T, you did have coworkers. a few high school students and then a few older middle-aged guys. despite that, you didn’t really like most of them.

you liked the peace that came with single-person shifts, which were mostly what was worked, but events that had multiple bands coming up meant there’d be more than one worker.

you didn’t have to go into work until evening.

but that evening, you were displeased to see the most irritating coworker of yours by far. Chase, a middle aged man who still lived with his parents and was “voluntarily celibate”, was consistently hitting on you.

you didn’t like him, and you made it very obvious. sometimes you were so blatant you thought any child could understand you clearly. Chase was worse than a child.

not to mention, you’d grown accustomed to seeing Simon on most of your shifts, and it had been awhile since he’d shown up. you were a little worried, but you didn’t know him all that well regardless.

you still worried.

during the later half of the shift, the one that included the bands showing up and having to spend all your shift breaking up fights, sex, and so much more you never wanted to talk about anymore.

“hey,” Chase said with your name afterwards, “y’know we could go catch a drink after this.” he offered. you stared at him blankly. you clocked in 5 minutes ago.

“no.” you deadpanned, resting your already beginning-to-ache head against the cold counter. Chase was on the other side, but was still talking to you.

when the door opened, and you could hear the familiar stomping of Simon’s boots, you grinned just a little. you could hear him practically storming closer to the front, as Chase continued to blabber on and on about going out with him.

Simon called your name, and you rose your head. “cmon, i wanna talk to you.” he didn’t look at Chase, just at you. you groaned dramatically, going to slam your head down. a hand on the counter where you were gonna let your head thud against stopped it.

Simons hand led to his body, and his eyes were waiting for you to go with him.

so you did.

you had 30 minutes, and this would count for your break instead of you just taking it later on. you’d probably hate yourself for that later on, but now that you weren’t being hit on by Chase and there were no mean customers, you were happy.

“you smoke?” Simon held up a pre-rolled joint.

“no, i haven’t.” you shook your head.

“wanna try?”

“sure.”

twenty minutes later, you were lying on your back on the blanket you laid out to sit on. Simon was beside you, still sitting up. with the affects of the weed passing over you, your sudden need to have your hands on someone else sent your hands to draw shapes on Simon’s back.

he didn’t seem to notice, or care, and let you carry on.

“where have you been lately?” you asked carefully, your words softly spoken with a grin across your face and eyelids drooping to nearly being closed.

“out.” he hummed. you didn’t bring it back up, letting his words be the only explanation. “you got a boyfriend? girlfriend?” he asked. you shook your head, you didn’t have a relationship because most of your time had unfortunately been devoted to the record shop.

“do you?” you asked him right back.

“nah.” Simon mumbled.

“hey, breaks over.” Chase said, his head popped out of the door. you groaned dramatically, letting your body go lax and not moving.

Simon grinned, his head turned to look at you. every other body part was still, except for your hand - which you kept on a consistent movement drawing a star over and over again.

when he stood up, you frowned as your hand dropped. he reached down again, whisking you from the floor and helping you stand.

for the rest of the night, Simon stayed in the shop until you were done with work and about to walk home. without you noticing, he began walking with you and another joint was shared.

once you made it home, you unlocked the door and let you and Simon in. it was an apartment complex, and you led your guest alongside you to the elevators, which you used to find your apartment.

you unlocked that door too, and let Simon in and closed the door behind you both. “y’hungry?” you asked him. he shrugged, which you took as a ‘yes’, so you began making a box of mac ‘n’ cheese.

Simon took it upon himself to explore your apartment in that moment. you didn’t stop him, letting him look around and walk through every room. after some time, you called him back over and handed him the bowl of food, sitting down on the couch.

after eating, you and Simon found yourself basking in the soft glow of the moonlight on your balcony. it was calm, and there wasn’t really anything happening, seeing as it was around 12 a.m. at this point.

you could’ve fallen asleep out there, the guy you brought with you sitting separated from you by the door, a choice he made himself. you didn’t bother telling him he could come closer, if he didn’t want to sit by you originally then he didn’t have to in the end. you were fine with it.

“i’m gonna go, alright?” Simon said after an hour or so of sitting outside with nothing really happening. you nodded, weakly and tiredly waved goodbye.

he was gone after that.

v. record recommendations

━━━━━━━ YOU DIDN’T SEE SIMON FOR a few weeks after that. you didn’t expect to entirely, he was a little flaky like that, but you at least thought he could tolerate you better than dropping from the face of the earth suddenly.

you spent awhile alone at work again, standing behind the register listening to music and doing stupid stuff, it grew more and more boring.

you missed Simon’s presence. it was the one thing that differed from your typical workday which made everything a little more tolerable.

rather than rest on pondering the “what if”s of this whole situation, you’d found a rather interesting pass time. you began listening to more albums in an attempt to expand your music taste.

even that was in vain - it never worked.

after a week, you gave up the final sliver of hope and stopped wishing. you happily grew more adjusted to spending shifts without anyone with you, and it became easier and easier to go to work.

the third day after what you’d dubbed “The Acceptance” (you had nothing better to do, and were now clinging onto anything that could make it all more interesting) the door chimed and you could see the familiar face and hear the familiar stomping.

“hey, welcome in. do you need help finding anything?” if he wanted to be flaky, you could be petty and treat him like a normal customer. you held up a faux smile, throwing on your “customer ready” face.

Simon stared at you, and you patiently waited for him to do something, say something. but he didn’t. he continued to stare, which grew slightly more irritating.

you huffed internally, cussing him out in your mind while you were at it, spinning on your feet and walking to the side where boxes of new shipment lay.

pulling one up to counter, you grabbed the box cutters and opened it. a new set of the most sold album. you didn’t expect these to last awhile.

“excuse me?” a father with his son walked up to the counter closest to where you were opening boxes to restock the inventory.

you looked up, “yeah what’s up?” you set the cutters down and walked to the front counter.

“do you guys have anymore Korn albums? specifically Follow the Leader.” the father asked. you hummed, walking into the back after quickly excusing yourself. walking back out, album in hand, you were surprised to see Simon still standing there.

you gave the father and son the album, checked them out, and sent them out with a smile.

“did you need something, dude?” you finally broke the silence, back turned to Simon as you kept unpacking box after box.

you didn’t hear anything for a minute, and you prepared to say something else. “that genre you like, give me a recommendation for a band.” his voice was rough, and he sounded hesitant.

you turned around again to stare at him, sighing and complying. you gave him a Bikini Kill album (Pussy Whipped, specifically) and checked him out. as you went to say goodbye, he stomped off.

vi. admittance

━━━━━━━ THE NEXT TIME YOU SAW Simon, was a week later. you’d grown even more used to his absence, and no longer felt as bored as you originally did. you felt the same as before Simon showed up.

it’s like he never walked in.

until he did, the first day you met him and now.

“has anyone flirted with you?” he demanded as soon as he got to the counter. you stared at him in mock-awe.

“seriously, Simon? you turn into a disappearing act like you’re goddamn Houdini, but now you can walk in here and use that type of tone?” you rolled your eyes. huffing, you shook your head tiredly.

“has anyone flirted with you?” he repeated his question. your anger subsided into confusion.

“pretty sure, probably not seriously. why?” you hesitated to answer at first, genuine curiosity running through you like your own blood.

“that explains it. when are you off? or going on break?” he asked.

“i get off in an hour, and my break was like twenty minutes ago. why?” you took a step closer to the one thing stopping you from walking straight up to Simon.

he shook is head, “i’ll be back in an hour, then.” he muttered, turning around and stomping out.

the hour that you had left was dragging on suddenly, and your body practically shook with nerves and insecurity and one too many thoughts for the rest of the day.

you tried everything to get rid of it, attempting to listen to music (your thoughts were louder), attempting to read a book (the words moved when you tried focusing, like they were shaking with your nerves), and trying to work on inventory (there was nothing to unbox).

once it was over, and you were clocking out, you were surprised to see Simon driving a blue truck. he waited for you, as you hesitantly approached the car. with a single honk of his car and a mean glare, you got in quickly.

he hardly waited for you to get in before driving off. you didn’t get scared or anything, you just braced yourself and got comfortable in the plush seats.

“who’s truck is this?” you quizzed.

“my friends.” he bluntly spoke, leaving no room for any other conversation.

it didn’t really bother you, the silence was comforting and now that you were with Simon, your previous nerves and feelings had been dropped entirely.

after what seemed to be around an hour, Simon pulled onto a desolate dirt road, that switched to a untouched grassy trail. your relaxation turned into confusion. was he about to kill you? you expected you’d live a few more years, but maybe you were wrong.

he parked near a cliff, and got out. you went to follow him, but he closed your door before you could. you watched him in confusion as he circled the car and opened it for you.

you looked at him, even more confused than before. this was not like the Simon you had been talking to in the past.

“who are you and what have you done with Simon?”

“shut up and come the fuck on.” now it sounded like the Simon you knew, you grinned playfully and got out.

“are you taking me here to kill me?” you questioned carefully.

“why the hell would i do that?” he turned to you, confusion written across his face.

“no clue, not every serial killer needs a motive.” you tapped your temple after saying that, before pointing at him.

“what the fuck.” he muttered.

“you choose to bring me here!” you exclaimed.

“clearly, i made a mistake.” Simon complained, watching as you walked closer to him.

“why did you bring me here?” you finally asked, folding your arms over your chest and patiently waiting for his answer.

“isn’t it obvious?” he scoffed. you shook your head with an eyebrow raised. what was supposed to be obvious? you waited for him to continue.

“jesus christ. i fucking like you, dumbass.” he emphasized the insult at the end. you rolled your eyes before stopping. it was like everything around you practically did the same thing - stopped.

you stared at him long and hard.

“you’re lying, right?” you hesitated to break the seemingly ever-lasting silence, but what was done is done, and Simon was the one rolling his eyes.

“no, i’m not. are you really this dense?” he was getting mad now.

“well, sure.” you shrugged one shoulder, letting your arms unfold and fall to your sides. he scoffed - which seemed to be his favorite thing to do. it didn’t help how awkward you were.

sure you had been mad at him, but now, thinking back, you could feel the undertones of yearning for his care, and yearning for a relationship. you sighed, looking down to regain your confidence before looking back up.

“if it makes you less mad, i like you too.” you hummed with a sly grin.

masterlist — reminder that asks / requests is open!!

[redflagshipwriter]

Check yes ch 11

masterpost

Jason repressed honest to god giggles until Danny phased them out of the building and to ground level. Then they started running back to where he had left his bike, laughing with adrenaline as Jason’s footsteps beat down on the pavement. They ran through a thick cloud of smoke outside a barbeque place, bathed in spice and meat essence. “The look on his face!” Jason gasped. “Why did that looney tunes plan work?”

“That’s how my battles go,” Danny defended himself, grinning so hard he glowed under the yellow tinted streetlights. Jason wasn’t sure he was actually running, per se. Was he touching the ground? “I do shit like enter video games and physically fight firewalls. You people are not prepared for me.”

“No shit, Bugs Bunny.” Jason snickered and wiped tears of laughter away before he unhooked his helmet from his bike. Danny shied away like he was worried Jason would force him to take head protection. Jason had fought enough of those battles for today, so he let it go when he never would for a normal passenger. After a moment Danny skittered back into grabbing range and Jason jokingly snagged his arm to reel him onto the back of the bike. “Where to, Prince Charming?” he teased.

Danny went stiff and cold behind him, which was really on brand for a corpse. But it also made it very obvious that he was trying to suppress some kind of reaction.

Okay. That nickname was either really good or really bad. Jason kept his body language loose and open, not really concerned but very aware that he did have an interdimensional monster guy on the back of his bike. “Brr,” Jason complained mildly. For real, it was like having a big ice pack pressed up against his back. How did it permeate his leather jacket and layers of tactical material so easily?

“...Sorry,” Danny said, voice flat. He reached out and gripped onto Jason’s front pockets. “Please don’t call me that one, for mysterious reasons.”

“...Alright.” Jason took that on board. He’d stepped near some kind of trigger. He made sure to remember it. “I have questions that are answered by the ‘mysterious reasons’ clause at the end of your sentence. Fair play. Let’s go to the arcade. It’ll take him a while to follow us.” He latched his helmet and kicked up the stand. “Hold on.”

Danny snorted. “Hang on,” he said scathingly, but there was a teasing lilt under the words. “You cannot possibly throw me off. Grungier men than you have tried.” 

Grungier? Not bigger or meaner or whatever? Jason choked down a laugh. Danny sounded so serious about it, too.

“Odd flex.” Jason turned on the engine and started off before Danny could do more than sputter at his deadpan response. They weaved between heavy Gotham traffic, protected from car fumes by Jason’s breathing filters and Danny’s nonchalant attitude regarding reliance on oxygen. 

Click

Danny jerked behind him, a clear indication that he heard the tiny sound of Jason’s helmet mic turning on. 

He hadn’t done that, so the list of suspects was very short. “Hello, Barbie,” he drawled.

Her unfiltered voice rang out in his ear. “Let’s go party,” she dead panned. Danny pressed his palms a little harder into Jason’s stomach in what might have been proprietary. Was he jealous? “Terrible of you to set a fox in the henhouse when I am off work.”

“Dick started it,” Jason whined honestly. He hit the brakes as the light ahead turned a yellow that cast eerie shades across lingering puddles. “I’m just trying to have a nice night out, and he wants to bother us.”

A female voice faintly floated across the background of Barbara’s call. “Poor baby,” Babs cooed mockingly. “Are you really so innocent? No instigation?”

“Not a word,” Jason lied. He put his feet down to brace the bike. Danny was the weirdest passenger he’d ever had, by virtue of being weightless and having no wind resistance. It was like driving alone except that there were hands on his front and a face pressed against his left shoulder blade.

Someone laughed in the distance. “I want to play,” Barbie sighed. It came across crystal clear into his ear.

“On my team?” Jason asked hopefully. 

She snorted. “Depends on how the chips are falling when I’m done with this presentation. Right now, it’s two to one, isn’t it? Dick’ll look for someone to play on his team before too long. It won’t be me, at least for an hour.”

Information was never free. “Thank you,” Jason said, already mentally allotting a couple hours next Saturday to moving heavy things around the Clock Tower. “Damn decent of you. Wanna say hi to Danny?”

Babs paused. “He’s not wired in, is he?”

The light turned green. Jason kicked up and breezed through the intersection. “No, but he can hear you.”

Danny’s chest became a little more solid against Jason’s back and he- slithered? Was he slithering?

“Hello, Barbie,” he said, politely and somehow inside Jason’s helmet.

Jason was very still. Wow. Bad. His hindbrain did not like this. 

“Call me Barbara, please,” she said. “Danny, right? Are you boys having fun at Dick’s expense today?”

“I dumped water on him,” Danny said happily.

There was a long moment. “How?” Barbie was hiding it, but she was a little disturbed. Jason got it. Dickie was one of the best in the game. 

“I phased through the ceiling when he was distracted, talking to a waiter.”

“Ah, you can fly. That’s pretty ghostly.”

Danny made a grunt. “Well, yeah, but actually I went zero gravity and made it look like I was lizard-crawling on the ceiling with glowing eyes.”

“...Can you hand the helmet back to Jay?”

“I’ll just back out,” Danny said, and slid back down Jason’s back. He suppressed a shiver. It was like- it was like being partially overlapped with some kind of cooled gel. It wasn’t just on his skin, it was sliding easily against the first layers of muscle or something underneath.

‘Interdimensional monster,’ Jason reminded himself. ‘Hot interdimensional monster.’ He put his questions away for later. “He’s fabulous, right?” he drawled. “We’re about to our destination, if it’s alright to get off the line.”

“Stay safe out there, loverboy.” Babs cut the call abruptly.

“She seems nice,” Danny lied. Or maybe he was just a bad judge.

“She will become our enemy real quick if it’s more amusing to her,” Jason corrected. “She’s a terrible enemy to have. I hope her date goes so well she doesn’t check in.”

Danny sulked against his back and slid his cold fingers through Jason’s jacket to rest of his skin directly. Jason suppressed a yelp, barely. “Boring,” he moaned. “If she’s powerful, she should fight me.” “Don’t buy that trouble,” Jason muttered. Jeeze. This dead guy had no self preservation instinct.