#you can see i got all the way up to 60 just for this fucker

[hgmason-hellion]

IT TOOK 6 TRIES

BUT I DID IT

I BEAT THE SNOT OUT OF ROXAS

HOLY SHIT

[thegnomelord]

#23 with male reader and soap. After a mission m!reader helps him clean himself in the shower maybe because soap got injured on the field or just really sore. And he washes off the blood/dust/dirt and helps dry him off and it turns into something kinda fluffy. I just wanna play with this man's stupid mohawk so bad.

Honestly me too, I just see that strip of hair and get the urge to tug on it, completely forgetting the man's fictional 😅 Ended up writing washing his hair and showering together because hyperfixation lol Play the game HERE.

Prompt: Washing their hair

CW: NSFW but no sex, non sexual nudity, M reader, showering together, hair washing, just fluffy fluffy fluff.

As much as you care about Soap, you've got to admit he's a bit of a dumbass, a reckless dumbass to boot. You tell him to be careful and what does he do? End up falling out of a second story window and rolling down a good 60 feet down a muddy hill while chasing after a target. You hear him swear the entire way down from where you're tucked away safely behind the sight of your sniper rifle.

By the time you get back to base Johnny feels as miserable as he looks, covered in so much mud you can't see his skin and his entire back wreathed in dull throbbing pain, not to mention the numerous cuts and scraps. And that's on top of Price chewing him out about safety and Ghost and Gaz teasing him the entire flight back to base.

"Not a word lad," He growls, giving you the stink eye. "Price already yapped me ear off." Soap turns to his heel in an attempt to head to the communal showers, biting his lip to stop himself from swearing out god, king, and country when his muscles scream at him.

"Wasn't going to." You stop him, one firm hand tugging on his bulletproof vest so you don't jostle him too much, though even that has drops of mud splashing on your clothes. "Come on, you can shower in my room."

He looks at you skeptically, but it doesn't take much to sway his mind when you offer him simple comforts; privacy, warm hands to wash away the days pains, a warmer body to remind him he's alive. He follows you without a word, neither one of you caring about the mud you track— tomorrow's problems.

"Foooock." The groan comes deep from his bones, perfectly encapsulating all he feels as you methodically unclip his gear, taking the world's weight off his shoulders and dropping it haphazardly on the bathroom's tiled floor. "Feel like a fockin' hog," He frowns.

"Look like you rolled in a pig sty." You helpfully supplement, receiving a few words in Gaelic which you don't even attempt to understand, though the humor in his tone is crystal clear even when you take hold of the bottom of his shirt; the mud and grime had gone through every layer of clothing, leaving not a single inch of skin clean.

He attempts to raise his arms to help you, only to suddenly yell out a "Oh ye fockin' cunt!" when pain flares from his shoulder down the entire length of his spine. You swear you hear his spine crack at least a dozen times by the time you pull his shirt off his mud wet skin.

"You sound like an old geezer." You chuckle to lighten the mood, dropping to your knees to untie his shoelaces and take off his boots, then the rest of his clothes.

"Says the bloke who's left knee tells the weather." He bites back, a bit of teeth on display as he grimaces, another few curses leaving his lips when he has to lower his arm. "Or tries to, yer got as much accuracy as the bloody reporters on the telly."

"Starting to complain like one too," You add, not at all surprised when Soap proceeds to brush his muddy hand across your face. "Of you fucker," Your words gain a childish little giggle from him, and he lets you guide him into the shower.

Your bathroom's one of the few that has a tub in it —a relic of past tenants before the army remodeled the base into an actual military installation— you had to bribe Price with a lot of high quality cigars to get it, but every penny was worth it. There's a tap as well as a detachable showerhead up top that Johnny eagerly uses, turning the water hot and just standing under the stream while you disrobe.

The clean water turns muddy the second it hits his skin, brown muck swirling around your feet as you step into the tub behind him. "How's that sweetheart?" You ask, taking the soap bottle and squirting a heavy amount onto your hands, not bothering with a sponge and instead using your fingers to wash away the dirt on his skin.

"Heaven." Johnny sighs, his muscles fluttering beneath your hands, mud and blood washing away to reveal deep blooming bruises across his back. "Shite, that hits the spot." He leans against you, the slow but firm pressure of your fingers massaging the sore muscles around the blotchy bruises making him groan. You lean in to place gentle kisses on the darkest bruises, "So good fer me bonnie," he hums, using his arms the best he can to at least wash the mud off his face.

You two float in a sort of mindless space where nothing outside the shower matters, the sound of water running and Soap's occasional groan filling your ears, all your focus on the way your hands rub him down; from shoulders to his back, down to his feet and then back up to his face when he turns around.

Once the water runs clear again you turn off the shower and start the tap so the tub fills with enough water to keep him warm, maneuvering him to sit in the tub while you step out to dry yourself off and put on boxers.

"Don't need ta be pampered like a show mutt," He grumbles, the hot water easing the soreness in his frame and making his exhaustion prominent, Johnny's eyelids starting to droop despite his best efforts to stay awake.

"I know, but you hair's a damn crow's nest." You snort, running your fingers through the mess on his head and showing the gunk stuck on your fingers, hell, you even pull a damn twig out.

His eyes widen, "Well fock me," Soap grimaces, gives a bone deep sigh as you settle behind him, sitting partially on the tub. Cupping water in your palms you rub your fingers down the length of his mohawk, loosening the dirt sticking to the strands until rivulets of watery mud run down his neck.

"Maybe later." You both chuckle, squirting the shampoo Soap always loves to smell on you in your hand and lathering your palms up before bringing them back to his hair. Soap mumbles something, leaning his head into your hands whenever you scratch a particularly itchy spot on his scalp.

His head tips back as much as his aching shoulders let him, his eyes settling on your face. I got it made, he thinks to himself, desperately trying to keep his eyelids open so he can see how you focus on even a simple task like washing his hair. Every brush of your fingers across his dirty strands fills his chest with lingering warmth, every scratch of your nails across his scalp making his eyes droop just a bit more.

Johnny doesn't even notice the slight sting when you occasionally tug on a knot, your touch making his mind buzz pleasantly like the low background static of a TV on late nights, and Soap doesn't realize he's dosing off.

You notice how he leans against your leg, leaning over to see his eyes closed and chest steadily rising and falling. You let him sleep for a bit while you finish up cleaning his hair and then use the detachable shower head to wash the bubbly shampoo off.

"What is'it?" He mumbles when you gently shake him awake, eyelids fluttering open and shut.

"Need you to get up Johnny." You hum and it's laughable how easily he follows your instructions, needing a bit of help to stand up when his back still aches like hell, a shiver racing down his spine as the cold air of your bathroom nips at his skin. "Fock, do'ah look like a snowman?" He grumbles at the cold.

You chuckle instead of saying anything, silencing any other complaints with sweet kisses on his lips as you towel him dry.

Soon after you two are huddled under the covers, his body draped over yours and using your chest as a pillow. Your fingers card through his slightly damp hair, the soft brown strands like feathers against your skin and your touch making him sigh and melt against you.

"Hey lad?" He suddenly says, voice a gentle whisper; like he's about to reveal a secret kept from the world — something only meant for you.

"Yeah Johnny?" You ask, a few stars reflecting in his blue eyes from your window.

Your heart melts at the soft and goody smile he gives you, "Love you." he says, leaning his head into your hand that's in his hair.

You smile and lean your head to kiss him, "Love you too," You mutter against his lips, and when you pull away he's already drifted off to sleep like a babe, soft breath tickling your skin and arms possessively wrapped around your waist like you'll disappear.

But you catch the way he smiles in his sleep.

[timdrakeinorder]

The New Titans #60: A Lonely Place of Dying Part Two (My thoughts)

Learning from last time and using a read more because dear lord that one got out of hand

(I don't really have anything to say about this panel, I just think she's pretty <3 Kori I KNOW I can do you better than Nightwing, hit me up)

I think Vic's word choice is interesting here, specifically saying he's calling 'Wayne Manor', not 'batman' or 'bruce'. I mean, it IS Alfred who picks up so maybe he just wasn't positive who'd answer the phone, but that layer of distance is interesting. He's on the lookout for one of his best friends and he finally calls 'the manor' not Dick's mentor. I haven't read enough new titans to have a lot of context for their relationship but I wonder if Vic sees Bruce as Dick's dad or his boss.

I love how they position Alfred here directly under Martha's stare. Alfred is on the verge of losing Bruce as well unless something drastically changes soon, she's always haunting the narrative, isn't she?

(I don't have much to say about this panel either, just look at her <3 The 80s comics may be messy about how they write women but GOD can they draw them! Or maybe I'm just gay and easy to impress who knows)

Tim you creepy little fucker <3. This bit DOES confuse me though, I will admit. We see Tim in his room with a copy of the photo with him and the Graysons in part one, so I really don't get WHY he'd break into Dick's apartment and tear up his stuff... just to show Dick a photograph that Tim already owns. Maybe it was just the only way they could think of for the rest of the team to learn that Dick's stalker knows both identities?

He's so sweet, how can you not love him?

The crowbar continues to haunt the narrative.

Still no full face reveal but we're getting close!

Tim's very one sided intimacy with Dick rears its head yet again. He can't immediately recognize Dick in the crowd and his first thought is that he MUST be in disguise. Keeping in mind that he still HAS NOT SEEN Dick at Haly's, he's still running on a hunch. A good hunch and he IS right in the end, but this is about a man that, to our knowledge, he only met ONCE as a three year old.

Houston, we have eyes!

Aaaaaaaaaand FULL FACE!

He looks so little here. He watched a man die AGAIN from the audience at Haly's circus and I love all the connections between this meeting and Tim's first time meeting Dick.

The! Audacity! Of! This! Boy!

I like that Tim isn't highly skilled by any means but we do learn early on that he's very fit, even before being trained, just not much more than an average physically active teenage boy. He managed to flip NIGHTWING 90% of the way to the ground, that is seriously impressive.

HE'S SO LITTLE!!!! Tim is very sure of himself and very entitled in such a 13 year old boy way. He has a very specific simple idea of how the world should be and he will leap on the first answer he sees. He sees an out of control batman, he's positive that having a robin will fix him, he hunts down Dick Grayson and expects him to jump back in the cape and boots. He sees a suspicious death that will spell out the end of a circus that's important to him, he has the bare bones of a lead based on extremely little evidence, he accuses a clown of murder. It hasn't sunken in for him yet just how complicated these situations are. Just how complicated PEOPLE are.

In his mind it's so simple and he can't understand why it isn't simple for Dick as well. Tim is accusing a dear friend of his of murder and it's like Tim doesn't realize the full scope of how serious this all is.

[irrelevantnostalgia]

Cake Mania: To the Max! (2011): Part 1

ᆞPᆞᆞlᆞᆞoᆞᆞtᆞ

Jill and Jack are looking through Jill's old photo album with their twins and come across Jill's high school days. She starts to reminisce about the days of shoulder pads, neon everywhere, and her awkward phase. These high school days become the final installment of the Cake Mania series, where this time the players time travel back to 1989 to when Jill was navigating prom, applying to college, and figuring out what she wanted to do with her life! A fairly simple plot, a nice way to wind down this series from the evil directors and time travel to 500 BC and cake-baking in an aquarium. Almost like a nod to the normalcy of the first Cake Mania game, where we see the beginnings of Jill's adult life. This game goes back to the classic Cake Mania format with 100 levels of cake-baking only.

Fun fact, this is the first time I was able to finish this game in full! When I used to play this game back in the day, the fuck ass PC wiped my data once I reached around level 60. This happened to me twice. Another time when I actually got past level 60, I would get stuck on a later level where I would be unable to achieve even the bare minimum baking goal. I raged so hard about all these instances that I avoided playing the game for years (almost a decade lol).

ᆞWᆞᆞhᆞᆞaᆞᆞtᆞ'ᆞsᆞ ᆞNᆞᆞeᆞᆞwᆞ

Interior Mode: A big change in this game is that there is an "interior mode" option for the shopping/upgrade center. Now, you can "upgrade" the walls, floor, counter and door just like you can the oven or froster. This may seem similar to the "building upgrade" in Cake Mania Main St + Lights, Camera, Action since upgrading the building also changed the interior design of the building, but unlike in those games, the upgrades are supposed to confer actual advantages in gameplay.

Upgrading the walls is supposed to help with increasing tips, the floor is supposed to help Jill get around faster, the door is supposed to help with customer patience, and the counter upgrades help make room for more customers at a time. There are two one-time upgrades you can also make--buying a flower-pot can help make the sugar-rush last longer and buying a lamp permanently stops the equipment-breaking (yes, they kept this from the last game!).

For the most part, this is an excellent way to sprinkle-up the game and add more stuff to purchase to make the game less monotonous as you progress through the later levels. Compared to the rest of the games where eventually your profits made per level rise exponentially and never get spent past you getting all the key upgrades, I was budgeting out from Day 1 all the way to the very end.

In my personal opinion, I don't think all the interior upgrades really added much to improve gameplay. The counter getting longer does actually help in getting more customers on the screen at a time and more tips from the walls is always welcome. The two one-time upgrades were both good too, especially since it takes a while for you to save up funds for the lamp so it feels like a huge reward once you do get it. However, the door and floor upgrades didn't *feel* all that helpful. Upgrading Jill's shoes had more of an effect on helping her get around than the floor, and a cookie and the right channel do more for customer patience than the door. I would even say nothing makes those fuckers happy.

Speaking of helping reduce monotony, in this game there are some differences in how equipment is upgraded. Rather than buying 3 separate ovens and upgrading them individually, you instead have one massive oven with 4 compartments. You have to buy the compartments as well as additional cake shape options, but the speed upgrades affect the entire oven instead of each individual compartment. Meanwhile, the cake froster + decorator upgrades follow the same upgrade pattern but it doesn't just stop at gold. There are additional upgrade speeds you get until the final one, which looks like some brutalist industrial bullshit.

I'm sorry but it simply did not slay. I was hoping for some tacky neon 80s realness as the final upgrade.

Essentially, the point of all the previous word vomit is that in this game there are so many upgrades that you will be hustling and checking your budget from the beginning to the end, which is not something you do in the previous games (for the most part). I won't lie, I played this game twice and took two different approaches to upgrades and there would still be places that were not fully upgraded or there would be equipment that I would not get to purchasing at all.

Similar to the upgrades keeping you on your toes from beginning to the end in this game, so do the customers in some cases. I feel like a broken record, but in the previous games once you got to a certain point in the cake-baking game you could handle whatever customer pile-up gets thrown your way without thinking too hard about it. Even in the last game where you had the Lola Fierezzas changing everyone's orders. I wouldn't say that every level in this game had me locked in devoting 50% of my brain to ergonomics, but there was a certain type of level that stood out to me that I felt like I didn't experience before in my journey with Cake Mania. Let's introduce two characters.

80s Movie Mean Girl

Favorite TV show: Aerobics

She pairs up with other cheerleaders in the line.

Her name is Cindy and she is Jill's """"love rival""". I put that in heavy quotations because the Big Jock is interested in Jill but she is not into him, and Cindy is salty that Big Jock pays attention to Jill. Cue passive aggressiveness, which even spills into gameplay because she tips like ass. I'll be making 3-tier cakes for her and getting a fraction of what I would get if I made one for another customer, which makes levels where she shows up a significant amount really annoying to play.

Now let's introduce another character

DnD Dweeb

Favorite TV show: Cooking show

Do you see my pain now? Having him make a recurring appearance in a level was an absolute nightmare when it came to me wanting to obtain all superstar baking goals. The moment this twerp would show up in line I would pray that I could drop everything and get his cake out of the way so I could keep my properly compensating customers. Ngl though, if he wanted a 3 layer cake I would just take the L. Not giving myself carpel tunnel over this shit.

To deal with his appearances I invested in an overnight fridge earlier than I usually would purchase one so I could have expensive cakes ready to fly out, and I would constantly purchase a one-time-use power-up available in the upgrade shop that gets a customer out of the way. There were multiple levels with this dynamic and it was the worsttt.

On the flip side, I actually have to appreciate the aforementioned Big Jock for coming in because....

♥ Evil Bully from 80s movie ♥

Favorite TV show: Cooking show

He orders multiple times

Honestly, I think the real bully is gonna be the DnD Dweeb for turning this guy into a no-tipping ass cheerleader and making me hustle harder to meet my goals! Plus he increases the hearts on the other customers which is another point from me. One of the most satisfying feelings was collecting profits from this guy cause you would get like a $100+ boost! Lore wise, he is just an annoying fuck who is into Jill and doesn't pick up on the very obvious hint that she does not want to be his prom date.

There is another new aspect added to this game, which really did nothing for me. Instead of having me describe it with more word vomit, let me just share the screenshots:

Before I introduce the characters used for this example Imma just keep it real: I never used this shit as a part of my strategy to make customers happier. I just feel like gameplay moves way too fast to really give a shit especially when you have tools like the TV and cookies to keep them at bay. Really, what I would use this for is to just move customers up if there was a space between them just to make walking easier for Jill. Perhaps if I played this game in a more relaxed manner I could focus on different characters and how they impacted each other just based on line placement. But frankly, I didn't notice anything super obvious, besides the two characters used for the example. Speaking of...

Megumi Fushiguro

Favorite TV Show: News

He doesn't like "new wave guy"

Yuri Plisetsky if he had a stupid haircut

Favorite TV Show: News

He doesn't like "punk guy". Someone needs to create a new manga over these two STAT! Also, my personal headcanon is that this guy is the high school version of the businessman introduced in the first Cake Mania.

ᆞMᆞᆞoᆞᆞrᆞᆞeᆞ ᆞCᆞᆞhᆞᆞaᆞᆞrᆞᆞaᆞᆞcᆞᆞtᆞᆞeᆞᆞrᆞᆞsᆞ

Businessman Sr.

Favorite TV Show: Rock Concert

This guy has to be New Wave Guy's dad.

80s Bridezilla

Favorite TV Show: News

Unlike in the first Cake Mania where her younger sister is most likely Bridezilla, she actually has a similar Pirate/Mr Dinosaur effect where her flipping out causes others to flip out and leave.

Cop

Favorite TV Show: Rock Concert

♥Doctor♥

Favorite TV Show: Aerobics

420 Blaze It

Favorite TV Show: Aerobics

Seasons may change and the years may go on by....but this guy will always be high

Klepto Kelly (ft her Emo BF)

Favorite TV Show: Aerobics

Seasons may change and the years may go on by....but her desire to steal your money is always sky-high

Birth Control Inspo

Favorite TV Show: Rock Concert

Little Kid

Favorite TV Show: Aerobics

(Dr.) Miss Lily

Favorite TV Show: Aerobics

She is That Girl cause everyone wants to change their order to hers! I would especially let it happen if these customers came in with some basic fuckass cakes that would make no money. Plus, per Jill, she is also a doctor. Based on her cute and relaxed fit (unlike the scrubs doc) I could see her being a dermatologist or endocrinologist. Maybe psychiatrist cause she knows how to convince others to change their orders

Thanks to Tumblr's 30-picture limit in text posts, I will have to split this review up into two posts. Stay tuned for part 2!

[mllelaurel]

I’m a little over 50% through Glacier’s Edge. I’m noticing that the newer books are less likely to get liveblogging out of me. Which is neither a good thing nor a bad thing, honestly. I don’t 100% know why that is the way it is?

At any rate, my opinions so far:

I don’t know how much of an unpopular opinion this is, but I’m actually really digging the Menzoberranzan civil war intrigue. I don’t know (or even know of, in most cases) most of these characters, but what’s going on with them is interesting. I like Big World Consequences and changes to status quo, and hope this pays off. 

Dinin is adorkable. And the Actual Worst at coming up with a fake name. What a dumbass (affectionate.)

Nnnot sure how and what I feel about Yvonnel’s age. (Hell, I’m not even sure if it counts as ‘very, very old lady,’ or ‘actual kid.’ Mostly, I think, it’s coming off as ‘supernatural entity who, if you asked her the age question, would sigh and give up.’) But if I don’t think about the age too hard? Congrats, Jarlaxle. Finally, a Baenre you can relate to. ‘Help, I think I’m into Drizzt. And also his wife. Would love a threesome. Please send help. Also I wish my mom loved me.’ ...Actually, no, I completely sincerely want her and Jarlaxle to interact. I think it would be good for both of them, weird affection-seeking Baenre black sheep that they are. 

Still unimpressed with Azzudonna’s extremely underbaked feelings for Zak. They’ve had enough interaction for her to go, ‘oh no he’s hot,’ or even ‘I like him and want to get to know him better.’ Love? Not buying it. 

Also, while Azzudonna’s desire to protect her city makes all the sense, it ALSO makes all the scenes of everybody trying to get her to tell them what happened to their friends repetitive and roadblocky. Her reasons are valid and sympathetic, but she has murdered the pacing in a back alley, and that murder was premeditated. She’s fine on the Watsonian, but I am starting to deeply resent her on the Doylist. 

We don’t even get much Dab’nay on the page, but I still love her and want more of her. 

Jarlaxle alone, on the back foot, and kind of desperate is pretty gripping. I’m here for it.

....Yeah, okay, now I’m seeing where y’all are getting Kimmuriel being kinda madly in love with Jarlaxle. You’re getting it right around here. Because holy shit, Kimmuriel is kinda madly in love with Jarlaxle. 

I do wish, given how attached Kimmuriel is at this point, and how much he now acknowledges that psychic intrusion can be a horrible violation, that the book would actually address on-page the fact that that’s exactly what he did to Jarlaxle in the past. And there really does seem to be a throughline between Kimmuriel’s moral growth and his attachment to Jarlaxle. I 100% buy the progression from ‘oh shit, I like this guy’ to ‘why do I feel bad?’ to ‘Oh, maybe I feel bad because I hurt him.’ to ‘Oh. That thing I do hurts people and I actually care.’ But I still want it on the page. And also feel like there’s a beat of Jarlaxle being angry about it instead of instantly forgiving, which would be the character arc clincher here. (Also also I don’t know that Kimmuriel would just Get It and grow on his own, without a catalyst like say Jarlaxle being angry at him right as he’s starting to realize how much he cares about Jarlaxle.) 

Wow, Kane (and the monks working with him) are the actual worst. Actual fucking worst. You know a guy trusts you and finds peace and safety at your monastery. You also know that he has major trauma about losing his friends and is a young parent understandably worried about the safety of his daughter. So, what do you do? You make him think that a friend of his has been violently killed and his kid is in danger. And you claim it’s for his own good. To control his berserker tendencies. Which you fuckers deliberately set off, by hitting at least 60% of the triggers he’s got. Amazing. About all I can say for them is they didn’t actually endanger Drizzt’s kid. If they had, Drizzt would be well within his rights to start stabbing. No jury would convict him.

PS: No. You cannot ‘cure’ someone’s anger issues/uncontrolled fighting style, which seems to be rooted in some amount of trauma, given that trauma sets it off, by deliberately re-traumatizing that person. Yikes. 

Also:

“Let me go with you.” 

“I have been begging you to—” 

“No, within you. Let me in. I will help you find the balance.” 

“Just come beside me! My daughter—” He stopped when he felt Kane let go of his hand and grab at his mind instead...

You know what’s missing here? Oh yeah. Consent. 

When Kimmuriel has officially outstripped you in his understanding of meaningful psychic consent? You should be very, very ashamed of yourself. (And Kimmuriel should be very proud of himself, to be fair.)

[kariachi]

Okay 1 am rambley post about the way I write Kevin and Mike and how they ended up with their energy bullshit because there's similarities and differences and my brain isn't shutting up right now. Mind that this is all rambling about what's in my head so take with whatever salt you want I don't care I got out of bed for this.

Like, okay, to start off from what we see of mutants in this franchise this is not a well-treated minority group. Alan (not a mutant but assumed to be by law enforcement) gets purposefully hit with a car and locked in a freezer with the justification being that his powers make him a dangerous freak. We see few mutants who haven't become criminals, when most people turn to that due to lack of options, and the most prominent of those is not only shown as socially isolated but also a tidbit in the background of one of his episodes makes it appear likely he's neglected. Malware's whole everything is a story arc.

Yes, this is all relevant. Because this is something that most definitely impacted both of them growing up. We know for a fact it affected Kevin because the entire reason he's alone on the streets when we first meet him is due to the mistreatment he received at home as a result of his powers- which given what we see in the reboot likely consisted of neglect and at least emotional and verbal abuse. We can make a reasonable assumption about Mike, due to multiple factors the most blatant of which are

1) While he has a lot more privilege (we'll touch on this again later) and being pretty and filthy rich will protect you from a lot his mutations are also more visible and visceral (not as bad as the likes of Thumbscrew, but if elementary school wasn't a bitch for him I'd be shocked, kids are enough of little bastards when you just hang out alone a lot nonetheless when your hands are 60% teeth by volume)

2) We've seen how mutants are treated in this setting and it is Generally Not Well

3) He's Kevin's foil and gets a similar 'my parents aren't around it's totally awesome' line in his introduction, bullshit that's not one of the places where they've got similarities

"But Achi why is this relevant to their ending up dangerous little energy-eating bastards?" Because this is the sorta shit that increases the odds of somebody going down the path they both started sprinting down. When the world is against you self-destructive tendencies can become more common, in part because they can provide short-term relief from what the world throws at you and a sense of control. Neglect victims (pretty obvious with Kevin and again Mike is his foil and seems to have been shunted off to a guest house and out of the way) are even specifically at higher odds of developing issues with addiction and getting into trouble because they start fucking shit up as a sort of cry for help/attention and well, if fuckers were liable to notice and care they wouldn't be neglected in the first place.

So we can assume their powers and mutations played a part in the why on the sides of 'the rush of energy pushes aside the negative toll of shit for a while' and 'neglect makes people more likely to get into shit like this'.

We continue on.

Now, we're hitting on Mike specifically again for a second because this one takes some explaining on his end. All of Mike's victims recover fine from being drained and seem to recover quickly, we're talking hours. Mike, meanwhile seemingly doesn't recover at all. Makes no fucking sense, Gwen should logically be a matter of scale more than anything, fucker should've recovered on his own eventually. Makes more sense if you run with the idea that his metabolism is shot, presumably due to his mutations (we know mutations can have negative side-effects, if we take the reboot into account, because Acid Breath's whole deal is shown to be a side effect of his shit combined with a lack of medical care), meaning he has to take in a lot more fuel than is normal, and that he hasn't been capable of getting himself past 'maintaining' and into 'recovering' because it's harder to have these large steady meals when you look like shit and therefor struggle to get close enough to bite people so they come back later.

Kevin is easier to just say straight up on this one- we meet him alone and homeless, even with his powers food is not gonna be easily available.

"Achi why-" Energy = fuel, boys are fucking hungry, moving on.

We also have the matter of power and control, which they both come at from similar but opposite sides as befitting foils.

Kevin of course is on the harsher side of this, for him this is all tied into a matter of self-defense. When we meet him Kevin, again, is alone on the streets and his energy-related powers are a source of protection. They also give him power over others by being literally more powerful than them, and also a sense of control via both that power and how he's able to use his powers to manipulate tech and machinery. This sense of power and control would be important for him, given the lack of power and control his position and entire situation gives him. He's had no control over how he was treated at home, nor over his circumstances on the streets, no power to defend himself, and this energy he absorbs gives him that.

Mike has it easier, again he's very privileged as a result of being filthy rich, he doesn't have the issues of self-defense and lack of any sort of security that play into Kevin's descent. But, being wealthy only opens a different angle on the matter of power- the rich tend to be raised to believe they're owed it by the grace of their social class. It's part of why you see them pitching so many fits whenever anything doesn't go their way. So you get somebody raised to believe they're owed power and status, but by grace of their minority status is on a lower rung than a lot of people around them. You mix that kind of spoiling with a lack of power within one's own community and the ability to draw actual physical power from shit, there's gonna be higher odds of trouble. The control, meanwhile, likely a combination of that same spoiling regarding what is owed alongside the same 'no control over shit at home but I can control this' shit we hit on with Kevin, with the difference being that Kevin was manipulating and controlling electronics while Mike's powers are geared towards people.

I take some additional stuff from the reboot for both, because it works very well with what I've already got.

Mike in the reboot is reimagined as a centuries-old vampire who feeds on adoration, with a delicate enough balance that somebody else taking the spotlight in his vicinity is enough to start him withering within minutes. Of course I don't go with this exactly but it can add an extra layer to his shit in the OG series. Kevin, on the other hand, repeatedly shows a desire to avoid sticking around people, every time it seems like they can maybe lock this boy down and keep him around he poofs. This one actually ports straight over and goes very well with Kevin's canon nightmares about everyone hurting him.

In Mike's case, we build off the presumed bullshit going on at home, add in the shit that happens with mutants, and wave some reboot over it- boy craves attention and validation. There's the control aspects and power aspects, but also how his bite causes people to not only come back but to beg to see him, how he beelines for the fucking cult plan, convincing masses of people to praise and swoon over him.

In Kevin's, on the other hand, it's a self-destructive trauma response. He's been burned too many times by people driven off by his powers or driven to hurt him by his powers, and so sinks deeper into use of this flashiest aspect of them in a semi-subconscious attempt to sort of hasten things along. Aided by the potential depression we see evidence of in especially the Rooters flashbacks. People can't hurt you if you scare them off/hurt them first, people aren't abandoning you if they leave before you can get attached. (Also easily given as a reason why he elevated things with Ben so quickly, from attempted theft to attempted mass murder within an hour- whether he was consciously aware of it or not, he knew it'd drive Ben off and he wouldn't have to deal with the hurt if he got more attached and then he left.)

In both cases it plays into the destructive cycle. Yes, you have attention and validation as long as your meal is banging at the door or swooning over you, but the void you're trying to fill with it is still there when they leave, and you know you just aren't getting the dopamine rush you used to anymore, better expand into more victims- Yes, you got them to leave before they could hurt you, but now you're alone and vulnerable and it still hurts to see them leave, better grab some power and a pick-me-up, maybe double that since it's not hitting like it used to- Feeds into that high then crash then high then crash until you either get shit back under some sort of control or you die.

So, tl;dr

Kevin- started absorbing energy due to a combination of it being an easy meal for a hungry child and the power granted by it giving him security in a very dangerous situation, spiraled into addiction due to a combination of attachment to the control it gave him a taste of after having no control over anything, standard 'makes me feel good for a while', and utilizing it as part of a self-destructive cycle attempting to protect himself from further hurt

(also I've started putting it, Kevin went through some serious withdrawal while he was first chimera-y, which put him in a semi-better place where, after it was clear that Kwarrel wasn't going to hurt him even if he was starting shit, he was able to step forward and ask for help, which I am very proud of him for it could not have been easy)

Mike- started absorbing energy due to a combination of it being an easy meal for a bottomless pit and his upbringing leaving a sense that the power that came with it was his right, spiraled into addiction due to a combination of attachment to the control it gave him over others after having minimal to no control over the bullshit in his own life, standard 'makes me feel good for a while', and using it's effects on others to shovel a shallow semblance of validation into the hole in his soul

Does any of this make sense? I don't even fucking know, we'll see when it's not 3 o'clock in the morning.

Goodnight, little loves, have sweet dreams where Kevin gets cocoa, a loving family, and all the tech he could ever dream of, and Mike gets a smack upside the head, some life lessons that stick, and a proper fucking diet plan.

[gibbingtonwibbington]

NUber and CVS suck.

I totally did not have the energy for that.

I’m shivvering under a blanket all over again.

I knew it. I knew it as soon as I was forced to sit on the steps waiting 20 plus minutes for a “3-4-3-4” min away NUberfkndriver to show up.

Like what’s he doing? Jerking one cuz he had a young, nubile, Valentine’s day couple to drop off, eh? Fucker in his orange fucking jeep renegade.

Canceled dat BITCH FO SHO BAYBAY.

Then got into a dope ass suv who decided to show off by driving crazy along w two other’s in cvs parking lot.

That guy totally was an ass, truck bitch was at fault 100%. I even wrote a thing to Uber just to make sure they have my say in it. My dude drove forward before the guy backed up ( I didn’t tell them that though lol) I didn’t tell them because we totally would have made it past him if he didn’t back up sideways like a fkn tard on the WORST road to do that on. We needed a second for him to wait and it would’ve been fine. He didn’t cut the wheel at all either. I said “why the fuck did he back up?” then I said “do u just want me to go inside? “ n he was like YA! Walked out n looked at his crushed side mirror n wasliwtf

Hhhhh

it was glorious. He stepped WAY THE FUCK back after this dumb back and forth..

Isaid, that means nothing.”

For the third time to this huge fuckin 6ft whatever tall bald Especially didn’t want to run into my new “best friend” …this one DIPSHIT cop that I made a complete fool put of. Oh god I loved it. I got off later on about it. He was so RED in the face with embarrassment and a flu apparently. He legit blew air in my face. It had to be him. I should call back just to give it back to him. I knew the other cop. He knew me, he knew I wasn’t lying. The last faces i said i wanted to see were theirs and apologized.

Uhh did that flu ridden mofo even search our names? Of course naht! I’m TOO old (for this obnoxious ((mid 20’s but looks older than me) neighbor having no life and being obsessed even though a lesbian joke happened) shit. I’m older than one of the cops by 3 yrs and grumpymcflufuck was at least 41. and I don’t even have a single speeding fucking ticket. flu riddenmofofo

My uber driver would’ve been way more embarrassed if I was standing with that group of middle aged 50-60 yr old men group. Fuck that. I went inside and then snuck over to the 24 store across the street to pee lol. N he said yea. Cuz they had to call the cops n these three dudes were sucking any surrounding witnesses into standing outside with them waiting for the cops. The truck guy was like did u see that can u wait here to some rasta dude in some white eRly 80’s car no shit. I am thinking bro why do u want more witnesses to you fucking up? It’s an accident. That dude wasn’t even a part of it. We had a line of traffic! I can only assume he’s not from around here. There’s a lot of construction shit going on here

So there was this kinda crazy bitch back in my middlechool yrs calles Cristina. I jeard she became a chunky lesbian stripper in Miami. I just searched, I was curious, haven’t heard a word bout this gal in ages, from anyone. Not even the one dude who was obsessed. She makes these pop art super easy canvas things, which an elephant has made look better and it doesn’t have fingers. A trunk is pretty flexible but anyway…lol…she makes these cliché ’ pop-art (insanely simplified) hand-netted basketball nets. Not sure if she’s the only one but it totally seems niche-like. Her art isn’t terrible but it’s NoT something that would make me say wow wtf?

Fkn weaksauce.

So she’s bragging on this fake ass interview thing she posted herself haha and mentions she’s sold to some high rollers like Rlck ross n a bunch of other low mil net worth ppl

n im just like… yea, you’re not applying yourself whole-heartedly, Christina.

HahaHAHA.

Cmon man…

#1 Leave Miami.

Lol

#2 Talk to OTHER people, make friends.., reach outwards.

[whatisonthemoon]

Thoughts on the Fujimori post and colonialism

Interesting post on the blog recently about Peru’s former president, Alberto Fujimori: https://www.tumblr.com/whatisonthemoon/708072662173351936/fujimori-sterilization-sasakawa-etc-upf-as-a?source=share

It got me thinking about how sterilization has historically been used as a tool to shut down even potential resistance of colonized people. This was done to thousands of Puerto Rican women unknowingly. So many aunties that should’ve been mamas, abuelas, and wanted to be. At the time, too, the Boricua/Puerto Rican independence was strong and militant. Their nationalism was undoubtedly backed by a growing marxist consensus into the 60s. There were thousands of Boricua-led militant actions from the 50s to 70s, and almost as many Boricua political prisoners in the US. This history gets lost.

We forget how close colonial violence and anti-colonial violence is all the time. Even now.

For those you in the US, you’re on stolen lands. Your country’s history is rich in genocide and slavery. This story didn’t end either. The US never became a progressive force in the world. It has only continued its violence, and supporting imperialist violence all over the world.

And we can witness a more fresh example of colonial violence in Israel. It’s all the same game...

And I think about how fucked up Sun Myung Moon was, to create a cult that literally enslaves people for his own influence and power and to feed his narcissism, and I realize all these mega-wealthy fuckers are just as violent and despicable.

And too often, those who are not even all that wealthy, but benefit from the suffering of the majority of the world just by being OK in the imperial core, are unable to see this...

We all (the 99%) have the same enemies. We are all dealing with the same fucked up systems. Let’s stop finding ways to hate each other, to further the colonial violence of the last 500 years, and recognize Moon, Putin, Biden, Trump, and any 1%’er asshole isn’t worth putting your faith into...

[storiesofmebyme]

08/06/22

I’ve always wondered if you will wake up and know this is the day i'm going to die. The answer is no. If you care enough to listen there are definitely signs but you'll never see them through the tunnel vision of temptation. Not until you wake up and have no choice but to face it. The raw, ugly, bitter truth my addictions just won.

I remember it so vividly for someone who was unconscious (dead) for a majority of the experience. He hit it first, seemed so high but fine, right? I pondered the consequences of fentanyl and what I was doing. Too bad the high is right in my hands and I could never say no. Thanks to my bestie, temptation. I cared about what was going to happen to me but not more than I cared about feeling sweet bliss. So I hit it again. Black.

First, I felt the mask on my face, helping me breathe. I’m barely conscious, not awake enough to open my eyes, or speak, or fight. Just enough to know exactly what was happening. Back to black.

Then it happened, my eyes opened. Surrounded by dozens of paramedics and police. Faces everywhere. My heart sunk, hard. I can't describe the absolute shame that flowed through my body. The first words said, “Megan, you just died.” Talk about heart sinking. I just died? What The Fuck. I’m not sure what i thought overdosing meant but god damn that hit. So there I was, laying on a nasty concrete basement floor covered in sweat and shame. Rock bottom is a mother fucker i can tell you that.

The paramedics said “you just overdosed and died” several times before I had anything to say. Finally, I apologized enough times in 60 seconds to set a record. I asked for my phone to call my mom before i could even get the words out a male police officer says “you’re phone is in evidence.” It was like he was just waiting for me to ask so he could inform me of my first punishment. Finally, they ask if i want to go to the hospital and if i can get up. I asked if i should go, while this answer seems obvious, remember im still disoriented. The paramedics wasted no time making me feel less than “i mean you just died so yeah i would go” Well jesus fuckin christ lets get in the ambulance and go then. So, I leaned forward to get up, all i can say is fuck owowowowowow. My chest feels like a stampede just ran across me. All they had to say is “Is it just your chest that hurts? Thats because we just did cpr to save your life.”

I get that thank you so much, a warning would have been nice regardless. So here i am again surrounded by medics and police officers watching me wince in pain struggling to get up. Finally an absolute angel of a lady reaches out her hand. A hand i really fucking needed. I held her hand the whole way up the stairs. I was scared and so alone. With no way to contact anyone I love.

We got to the top of the stairs and I was completely winded so I stopped and said “I need help.” Something I genuinely never ask for because I know better. A plea that had gone ignored for far too long.. What do you know some stupid fucking male paramedic says “were gonna get you some help.” HA what a fucking epitome of my life. So I picked myself up and carried myself out just like always.

Now we're walking out of the house Grant says “I’m so sorry megan”

I didn't say a word. I just walked down the driveway looking at the ground while neighbors watched. Finally, I climbed into the ambulance. At Least I’m not surrounded by people anymore. Then the paramedic unknowingly in the ambulance asked two of the most awful questions he could come up with. The first “how old are you”

“23”

“arent you a little young to be doing this”

Listen bud, i appreciate it but no it was “too young” when i was 14 addicted to adderall and smoking dope by 15. Then he also had the nerve to ask “did you know other girls have died at this same house” yes. Yes i fucking did] they were my friends. I cant understand why i got a chance that they didnt. Why me? Why.

We get to the hospital and they're rolling me to my room and all i can think is this isnt real. There's no way I am getting wheeled on a bed to a hospital room. Damn i really fucked up this time, bad. We get to the room and they have me switch beds. My chest is on fire btw, some of the worst pain I have ever been through. Lets just say for health care professionals they were less than patient and empathetic. More like judgmental and degrading. The paramedic started telling the nurse what had brought me to the hospital. When the paramedic explained the severity of what had happened. I hear him say “ No she was in cardiac arrest for two minutes. She was did not have a pulse when we arrived.” This BITCH the nurse goes “oh Woooow.” Are you fucking serious? I’m in the

middle of understanding and accepting what has happened - alone- and this bitch says woooow?? Hell no find a new profession this one is not for you.

Unfortunately for me that was my nurse for the visit. Fml the punishment really fuckin showed up from the moment i woke up. So the nurse comes back and puts all these stickers all over me to check my heart. They were all over my chest and back. Knowing how many unwanted people had touched me that day made me sick. To the core. The person who gave me cpr was a man.. A man touched my lifeless body. Gross gross gross.

The rest of my hospital visit was really a blur. I woke up and asked for a blanket and the same bitch nurse says “but you’re sweating.” Alright bitch you really need a new job you’re a nurse thats never heard of cold sweats??? Come on now. Everytime i woke up i would ask to call someone literally anyone. I was so done being alone at this point. I needed to tell my family. I needed to tell everyone i loved so i could start feeling better asap. This wasnt a guilt a was willing to live with and I was ready to face it immediately. I knew i would disappoint so many people with my news but I knew they needed to hear it from me.

After many hours in the hospital I’m able to finally call my mom. At the time this is all I truly wanted. I knew my mom was going to make me feel safe. Of course she immediately burst into tears. Little did I know she was on her way back from Chicago and still hours away. So next best option is my grandma.. Oh god my grandma.

I’ll be honest my grandmother is not a quick person never has been a day in her life. She showed up to that hospital, fast. A blessing and a curse. She brought me comfort but it was immediately gone when she started asking for every detail. With every “She overdosed” “She died” and “She's very lucky” i felt my heart go deeper into my stomach. As I realized this is the beginning of alot of disappointment... How did I let myself get here?

Once my grandma was there I was nice and awake. Feeling every emotion deeply, painfully. Then a nurse half mentioned discharge and every emotion turned to anger and annoyance. I was ready to go. Clearly I was ok at this point I wanted my dogs and my bed. Mostly my dogs - my only real safe space. So they

unhooked me from the IV and went to get the discharge papers. I stood off angrily ripped all those little fucking stickers off of me and left.

The ride to my house was surreal. I called everyone immediately important to me and let the rest wait. My dogs were safe, my work dogs were safe and so far no one absolutely hated me. To me that meant i could finally start making peace with what i had done.

I got home and went to bed. And thats all i did for days. I just slept.

T B Continue..

[rigginsstreet]

“Oh, I love this song!”

The radio in the Camaro’s tuned to the oldies station. Because they’re parked down at the quarry, looking out over the water, full moon reflecting on its surface. And Steve had said they needed mood music, Billy’s usual metal and loud rock not cutting it, apparently.

Some song from the 50s or maybe the 60s is starting up, solid drum beat kicking in before the vocals start. The artist’s and Steve’s.

“The night we met I knew I needed you so,” he’s singing, turning his body in the passenger seat so he’s facing Billy, singing the first verse right to him.

Billy’s face contorts in mild disgust at the cheesiness of the moment. Won’t admit to the hammering in his chest, the ache behind his ribs when Steve’s singing And if I had the chance I’d never let you go.

“The fuck is this?” he asks.

“The Ronettes,” is Steve’s casual reply. 

“And you like this shit?” Billy gestures to the radio.

Steve shrugs his shoulders, head still nodding along to the music. “My mom used to play like, all the oldies when I was younger. Grew on me, I guess. It always sounded so... romantic.”

There’s pieces being filled in to the story of Steve in Billy’s mind. A bygone time of bonding with a mother that never seems to be around anymore, the fact that Steve’s been a hopeless romantic from the moment Billy met him. The music starts making sense now.

Steve resumes singing in the passenger seat, blinding smile on his face as he sways along like some dork at a Sock Hop. Billy can picture it so well; the letterman sweater, the slicked back hair, white socks and fucking loafers. Billy’s more of a greaser, himself. Mentally snorts at the image of the two of them in some alternate universe. 

“I’ll make you happy baby, just wait and see,” Steve’s singing, suddenly throwing his arm around Billy’s shoulders, leaning into his space. “For every kiss you give me-” He places three pecks in quick succession onto Billy’s lips in the pause between lyrics. “I’ll give you three.”

Billy’s heart is in his throat. Gone all weak-kneed and shit, which would be a problem if he wasn’t already sitting. He doesn’t know how he got here, letting himself be romanced by some cheesy dork singing along to some doo-woppy chick music, but he’s here nonetheless.

Grabs the front of Steve’s shirt when he goes to sit back in his seat, plants one on him back. Can feel the fucker’s smile against his lips as Billy’s tongue prods his way inside. 

Oh since the day I saw you, I have been waiting for you, You know I will adore you til eternity

Billy comes up for air, leaving just enough space for Steve to kiss the tip of his nose, causing Billy’s face to scrunch up.

“Song’s not so bad, is it?” he says, smug as shit.

Billy’s fist is still in Steve’s shirt, not letting him go. Foreheads pressed together. Ronettes still playing out the rest of their song.

“I’ve heard worse.”

[luckyasfuck]

maybe i just wanna be yours [k. bakugou]

A CAMBOY AU SERIES - PARTS [1], 2, 3, 4, 5

pairing // katsuki x female reader 

tw // cussing, smut

theme // enemies to lovers au, camboy!katsu au, college student!katsu and reader au, no quirk au

keys // y/n, l/n

words // 1.1k

masterlist

the air was thick in the classroom today as the students from UA waited not so patiently for their professor, y/n tapped her fingers on her open notebook while waiting as well. all of her classmates were early, even those who always came late. she’d memorized their faces, but not their names. that applied to all of her classmates, except him. bakugou katsuki. he sat as far as he could from her, and she did the same. they hated each others guts, for always being on each others tail. their parents and society expected a lot from them as the smart students with high IQs, so they both tried their very best. they were each other’s competition, switching places from first and second monthly, competed by grades, test scores, how much cookies one can sell in a bake sale, in everything academical. today was one of those days, the professor had given out an individual project that would determine 60 percent of a students grade.

it was a diagram project, where you had to build a diagram of a place in Japan you wished to go to someday. y/n was sure that the others would pick natural scenery, but she knew that picking man-made attractions and putting extra detail might catch the professors eyes. katsuki was thinking the same thing, opting for a city view with sculpted people and neon lights. y/n picked a theme park, a high colorful ferris wheel with bright colors that catch the eye and a rollercoaster trail all around the park. 

all students held their breaths as their long awaited person finally entered the room with a stack of papers in his hands. “i see you’re all here already?” their professor spoke, not looking up. he arranged the papers before starting to speak again. “these papers are what i think of your works, as well as your grade.” he started calling names and giving papers, disappointed sighs and cheerful mumbles were heard each time. in the middle of handing the papers out, the professor spoke again, “the last person on this stack of papers is the one with the highest grade, the most outstanding diagram, if you may.” he blurted out, emotionless. 

in a second, y/n’s head turns to look at katsuki on the other end of the room only to find him already glaring at her. she could practically hear his silent ‘tch’ as he rolled his eyes and looked away, focusing on the papers as they started to get lesser and lesser by the second. their professor looks up with the last two papers in either of his hands, eyeing both y/n and katsuki. “as expected, these two are the top ones. they both made city sceneries unlike you all who just made beaches.” anger fumes in both of the mentioned students’ lungs as they looked at each other again, the air and tension inside the class impossibly thickening. 

“miss l/n and mister bakugou, come take your papers.” this fucker knew what he was doing. y/n sighed out loud and stood up in her seat, walking up to the front of the class with katsuki trailing right behind her with an ugly scowl on his face. “y/n, you have the highest grade in the project.” y/n felt herself shiver when she saw katsuki stiffen up from the corner of her eye, one of his hands balled up in a fist. nonetheless, she took the paper proudly and walked back to her seat while katsuki practically had to drag himself back.

y/n smirked, wanting school to end already so she can treat herself to a perfect night. growing up with priorities like this, she left her friends in her home country for a chance to get into UA, but that didn’t mean she didn’t keep in contact with them. she didn’t have anyone to hang out with tonight so she figured she would just spend some money on herself and her own personal wants. 

the day dragged out a little too long, y/n was tired and couldn’t wait to get back to her apartment. she practically ran when she saw her apartment in sight, lazily throwing her things around near the front door, promising herself that she’ll clean it up after she takes care of herself. she had ordered some take-out before hand, because not only would it rid her of the burden of cooking, take-out was just tastier than anything she could make. 

about to run to the bedroom, she hears a knock on her door. “fucking hell, who the fuck?” she grunts, opening the door. oh, yeah. the delivery guy. she mentally slaps herself while taking the food and paying. then she runs to the bedroom, stripping herself of her clothes and setting up the bath before getting in. “holy shit this is the best.” it’s been a little too long since she had this big of an achievement, especially against katsuki. basking in the smell of the bathbombs she placed, y/n scrolled through tiktok after finishing her food.

that was, until she received a twitter notification. she gasped slightly, this night couldn’t get any fucking better. it was a notification from an account of camboys that she followed, filthy, right? not even her friends knew about this mini obsession with faceless boys who get off on cam. the tweet said “welcome to the family, @kb._49!”.

a new camboy, huh? y/n smirked and clicked on the profile and instantly got greeted by a video of the mystery camboy’s cock pressed against the camera, each vein seen and pulsating as he stroked himself hard and fast, hips fucking up to his hand. hitting the follow button, y/n tapped on the video before dipping her hands down on her cunt. rubbing her clit to the sound of the camboy’s heavy breaths and grunts. she slips two finger inside when he starts cussing, and started moving at a fast pace, head too cloudy to notice how familiar the voice was. 

the video has already ended but y/n kept moving her fingers in and out, throwing her head back. “oh fuck!” she moaned out loud when her legs start quivering and the knot inside her stomach bursts. she pants, slowly taking her fingers out and finally rinsing herself off.

katsuki was moping over the fact that his rival beat him on something he planned so delicately and worked so many hours for. he slams the pen down on his desk and sighs, i need a fucking nap. he plops down on his bed the same time his phone goes off with a twitter notification. he checks it and sees a new follower, as he was about to turn his phone off, he spots the username.

“no way.”

he checks the profile and the bio described exactly who he was thinking of. well, the username kind of gave it away in the first place. katsuki checks the following list of the person and sees several more camboys and NSFW accounts.

“y/n... you dirty little girl.”

next part I masterlist

[saintobio]

I've like casted the intro thingy almosy 3 times onto my TV atp so thank god finally my finger hit the ask box- Okay, SO SAINT, IK IM TIPSY RN BUT I MY ALCO FUZZIEX BRAIN CANNOT THINK OF ANYTHING BUT SY AND SY GOJO RN. IK IBEEN SOBBINF OVER HIM FOR THE PAST HOUR BUT SAINT, I WANNA CRY AND TELL U THAT U ARE AMAZING AND ILY, I HOPE YOI KNOW UOI DESERVE THE WORLD PLS 😭😭 IM SORRY IF THIS ASK COMES ACROSS AS SLOPPY AND PLAIN ANNOYING BUT HOLY SHIT IM JUSY CRYING AT HOW TALENTRD YOU ARE FOR GIVINF US QORLDS TO ESCAPE TO LIKE SN/SY, OLAL, WASTELANDS ESCPECIALLY WHEN PEOPLE HAVE BORINGASS LIVES LIKE MINE. ITS SO SEDENTARY AND STALE THAT I HAD TO DRINJ TO NOT BE THE SOBER ME. AND THEN YOURE SO NICE AND WITTY WITH ALL YOUR FOLLOWES TOO!!! YOURW HELLA COOL I HOPE U KNOW THAT!!! I HOPE U KNOW I ADOREE YOU MORE THAN ANY AUTHOR ATP. ILYYY. TAKE CARE OR GOJO NO UNBOX! BYE-BYE!!

ty so much!!! that’s so nice of u and it’s not annoying at all :D rly glad you enjoy some of my works <33

@otivez said

saint i've been DYING to tell you this omg my law professor told us this crazy story last week and istg it's sincerely not

it's very long and wild but in a nutshell this son of a high status family in the 60s needs to marry someone and his parents don't like his girlfriend so they find him a woman. he goes to his gf and tells her that he should marry the other woman and then they should see. fast forward a couple years he gets cancer and dies. after he dies, they see that he has 14 kids with his wife AND 15 with his girlfriend 😭 they ask the wife "why" and she says "well she gave birth so i had to give birth too" 😭 they were RACING 🤧 my mind just instantly went "what if reader was like sera too" shit gets even crazier that they even made a tv show about it

WHATJDJD THATS SO MESSY 😭

Anonymous said

Hello new reader here👀 An auntie lurking around.

I’m not an anime watcher (but a kdrama one) btw so I don’t know who this characters are irl? Is that even the term?🤣 I just happen to open tumblr after 5 years, this is my 12 year old account whom I spent my teenage years (you can guess my age already 😂)and that one person I’m following reblogged your Sincerely yours series. AND GURL WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN IN MY HECTIC BORING CORPORATE LIFE?!!! It’s been too loooong since I got invested like this for real😭 I am so intrigue, this is nothing like The Princess Diaries I used to read😒😂 and now I discover this gem called smut brrrr Guess what chapter I happen to read first, it’s the bora bora damn I was like, this series is fucking interesting I’m hooked and started reading from the very beginning. To that person who reblogged that chapter, thank you! And Saint, I love you! Muah💋

P.S I’m not following you yet, I don’t want to see the juicy spoilers 😁but I will, I PROMISE once I’m done teehee. And I just google this fucker Gojo Satoru (I’m in a chapter where I really despise him and Sera right now hahaha) he’s my wallpaper now btw and now I’m introducing him to my niece as my cheating rich handsome fiance so they’d stop calling me an old maiden😩

P.P.S can I share how I imagine yn’s style and appearance? It’s Kang Sa-Ra in kdrama A beauty Inside❤️ this is before I saw your curated aesthetic images for sn and yn hehe

it’s sooo interesting when people who don’t watch jjk actually read sn/sy 😭 i hope u know that they are very ooc in this series, and gojo isn’t like this at all HAHAJAJ also i haven’t watch that drama but the inspos for her fashion usually come from typical kdrama chaebols 😹

Anonymous said

I really wanted yn and Gojo to end up together because I’m a Gojo simp lmao. But if SN and SY with OG characters? honestly I don’t want the FL to end up with the ML I want them to go on their separate ways but have a healthy or civil coparenting their child. They’re both too broken to be together again but if they happen to have the strength to patch things up, I wish they’re already both healed to be together again.

If Gojo and YN is the endgame… Saint, I wonder how… And if they’re not… waaah

Anonymous said

This is a terrible thing to say but I'm toji x yn because i think it's the less worse option of gojo x yn. Both relationships have major issues but toji by comparison has less issues and can be salvage. Despite the titanic reference gojo made in sn19 their ship sunk and is staying at the bottom.

gojoyn or tojiyn, i think we can all agree that yn x therapy should come first 😫

@bellehalla said

this is not new but i will defend those Utahime haters because...i am one of them. first of all, why would you go after your friend's ex boyfriend. that itself is already questionable. then you go after an ex that your friend has a bad and complicated history with. apparently, that's not enough to set her head straight. then, you as a friend, know that this friend of yours is losing her shit, losing her mind over this dude and you're out here uwu catching feelings. BUT GREAT CHAPTER SAINT! <33

ahahaha i just know utahime wouldn’t give this much damn abt gojo in canon 😭 but sy!hime is a cassie

Anonymous said

Oh boy, your writing is so captivating! sn6 is the first chapter I've read as it's been released and what a chapter it has been... Thank you for doing this!

A question, I've seen in your profile that your type is INFP and as an mbti nerd have been wondering if you take the personality types of the characters when writing the story?

Sorry if the question has been asked before but I've just been very curious :)

tysm <33 i’m not very knowledgeable about mbti but i remember one of my readers who did a long post abt the characters mbti and why they make sense!! sorry i couldn’t find it anymore but it was during sn era, which is several months ago T^T

[machiavelien]

Eat the Rich (Peter/MJ/Felicia x Hustlers AU)

Moodboard by & ficlet collab with @i-lovethatforme 💋

Rated M (not explicit!), CW: recreational drugs

MJ is working her way through grad school as a dancer because she's hot as fuck and she makes a lot of money. 

She works at the Gloom Room (ASM #59-60 lol), where it’s all flashing lights, beautiful half-naked people, and endlessly flowing champagne—on brand for an upscale club owned by Felicia Hardy. 

When she's dancing on stage, Felicia is mesmerizing ofc—it's not just her impossible body, but the way she takes control of the entire room: all eyes on her, everyone wants a piece of her but they're also afraid of her. 

MJ spends her time wondering how to be like that, especially as Felicia strides past her, dollar bills fluttering in her wake, and asks, "Doesn't money make you horny?"

MJ usually just serves drinks and gives the occasional lapdances on the floor, but one day Felicia asks her if she’s interested in working a VIP party with her: “Rich trust fund kid and his friends, easy stuff. Men are all the same wimpy fuckboys at heart.”

Starstruck but trying not to show it, MJ agrees, eventhough she’s never worked a VIP room before. She moves from behind the bar, the nerves settling in her stomach—it’s one thing to be envious of how Felicia moves onstage, and another having to do it herself.

Felicia reminds MJ of the club’s rules for private parties, but also mentions that her parties are a little different... 

“Listen kitten, you’re my favourite—you know that right?” and MJ isn’t so sure—but she’s not going to argue, so she just nods her head. “Good,” Felicia says, tucking a piece of hair behind MJ’s ear. “Because only my favourites get to play in the big leagues with me—and things are done a bit differently up here.”

MJ listens intently, feeling a little in over her head when Felicia explains that the drugs won’t do any permanent damage—these fuckboys are probably snorting worse on their own—and she’s only taking what she’s rightfully owed anyway. 

MJ thinks that maybe something has happened before—Felicia talks like she knows how bad some of these men are—and who is MJ to say she’s wrong? 

She can practically see the anger radiating off Felicia as she talks about the way rich dodgy fuckers think they can rule the world—while leaving so little for the rest of us. "The game is rigged, and it does not reward people who play by the rules."

"What if somebody calls the cops?" MJ asks.

"And says what? 'I spent five thousand dollars at a strip club, send help'?" Felicia laughs. "Look, this city—this whole country—is a strip club. You've got people tossing the money, and people doing the dance."

"I don't know, Felicia," MJ replies, worrying her lip between her teeth. 

"Don’t worry, I've got your back, kitty," Felicia purrs, tucking a curl behind MJ’s ear.

Michelle isn’t sure why she agrees in the end, but she does, and as she walks through the club, she can feel all eyes on her and it makes her feel powerful. 

The VIPs are younger than she’s expecting—probably around the same age as her. There’s an utter tool, Harry something, who seems to have spearheaded the event, throwing his money around like it means nothing. It probably doesn’t—he doesn’t look like he’s worked a day in his life—and she’s pretty sure his dad’s supposed to be someone famous for being rich. 

The tool keeps looking at MJ like she’s supposed to be the main course tonight, but she quickly figures out whose birthday it actually is: Peter, the one in the group who looks like he wants to be anywhere else but here. His eyes are flitting from one girl to the next like he’s looking for someone in particular, and she’s mad at herself for wanting his gaze to stay on her for longer than the two seconds he’s taking to look at everyone else. 

His eyes sweep over her, and before she has a chance to regret her outfit choice, his eyes are back on her—darker than before she thinks, but of course, it might be the very-intentionally darkened room. 

She bites her lip to hold back a smile—this is just a job. Routine. So she holds his gaze and counts to five before she moves over to him.

Peter rubs his palms up and down his thighs as she saunters over—making sure to sway her hips in the same way she watches Felicia walk on stage. She shoves the nerves and the feelings of inadequacy back down her throat and sits down next to him on the plush couch.

"Hey, birthday boy," she whispers, swinging one of her legs over the other, and leans in close. He smells like a cologne she won't forget for the next week.

"Hey," he replies, moving his arm like he might place it on the couch behind her, but then he freezes, changing his mind. Before her ego can take a hit, he adds, "Sorry, this isn't my usual scene—I mean, I've just never been to a place like this before… it's really fancy," and she realizes he's just nervous. Cute. Not as nervous as she is, though—not with what she’ll have to do to him tonight.

Her gaze flicks over to Felicia where she's commanding the attention of the rest of the group with the other girls. Felicia winks at MJ and asks who wants to do a round of shots with her, and who gets to “break in the new girl” with a predatory grin. The little vial of Felicia’s ketamine and molly concoction weighs heavily on MJ, from where it’s tucked into her cleavage.

MJ feels like she’s sleepwalking as she leads Peter up the stairs, the pink lights reflecting off the glittering crystal chandelier curtain that separates them from the rest of the party. At least his hand feels as clammy as she does while she tugs him into their private room.

"Do you know the rules?" asks MJ, pouring out their champagne into two flutes. Peter shakes his head, so she pushes him down to sit. "You can't touch me, only I can touch you. But if you want me to stop, say ‘spider-man’. Got it?"

“What? Why would that—um,” Peter chokes out, his voice almost cracking as he shifts uncomfortably.

“Don’t be jealous,” says MJ, rolling her eyes. “The club owner’s a fan or something, just relax.” 

Peter nods and settles back in the sumptuous velvet seat, his hands resting patiently on his thighs as he watches her. 

"And the cameras are always on," she adds sternly, pointing at a corner in the ceiling, "whether or not you're into that sort of thing."

"You're the boss," he breathes out when she smooths her hands up his thighs to part his legs slightly.

"You got that right, Tiger,” she leans in to whisper in his ear, “And you can call me Mary Jane."

“Mary Jane…” he repeats softly, his eyes never leaving hers.

It’s too much—if she stares at him any longer, she’s going to lose her nerve and piss off Felicia. So MJ stands up and turns around so he can only see her backside—feeling a surge of confidence as she hears Peter's sharp inhale. Her hands barely shake as she retrieves the vial and empties the dangerous liquid into his drink.

Maybe she can drag this out and stall as long as she can, so she gives Peter an agonizingly slow striptease. Playfully pulling up her top like she’s about to take it off, hips gyrating with the music, shaking her long hair out. Peter’s eyes are raking her up and down, and she feels like her body’s on fire.

MJ has never gone topless on the job before, but now, alone with Peter, she finds herself slowly unclasping her bralette, back facing him as she teases him with the sight of the lace dropping to the floor. He groans behind her.

Looking back at him over her shoulder, she sees Peter gripping his knees, knuckles white.

"Face it, Tiger, you just hit the jackpot tonight," she teases, and as cheesy as it sounded in her head, her words make Peter chuckle lightly, even as his eyes seem to plead with her.

Rolling her hips, she runs her hands up and down her sides so he can imagine himself touching her, groping her like she knows he wants to. Like she hopes he wants to.

She's trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts that say she's not good enough for this, that she's not hot enough, that she should have stayed behind the bar. Because she's been grinding herself on Peter's lap for the past few minutes and he can't stop making small talk at her—asking how long she’s been working at the club, if she happens to know parkour (what?), if she likes expensive jewelry and rare artwork (which was the least weird question, at least while she’s got her tits in his face), and the weirdest question:

"Have you seen anything strange around the club lately? Like maybe Spider-man chasing down the Black Cat here or something?"

"What?"

"Nevermind," he mumbles.

He's clearly getting something out of this if the hard-on she's working herself against is anything to go by, but she's a little more interested in getting a real response out of him, not recounting if she's ever been to the roof of Sothebey’s Auction House. 

Michelle wonders if maybe he thinks he knows her, with these probing questions he keeps asking, or if he’s mistaken her for someone else? But she'd remember if she's seen him before, and honestly, her thighs are burning, so she thinks, fuck it.

"You remember the codeword, right?" She asks, flirtatious tones forgotten as she relaxes her muscles and sinks fully into his lap.

"Yeah—I mean, yes," he replies, eyes wide and looking younger than he has the entire time he's been here. His fingers flex like he wants to touch her.

"So you know if you don't want to be here, you don't have to be?" she asks, hands hanging around his neck as he lifts his upper body off the couch.

"I know. I want to be here, it’s just… Can I touch you now?" he whispers in her ear, warm breath against her neck.

"Only because you've been good," says MJ, her heart racing.

"Where can I touch you?"

Michelle thinks about Felicia and how she can command a stage and the attention of anyone in the room without them touching her. But then she thinks about how badly she wants Peter to touch her. She brushes her lips over his. "Where do you want to touch me?" she asks.

He maintains eye contact as he brings his hands to her thighs, slowly moving until his thumbs run along the edge of her booty shorts, and she can’t help how wet that’s making her. MJ thinks his thumbs might dip under the lace, but before she can edge him on, he moves his hands away to grab handfuls of her ass—squeezing and groaning as she moves her hips. 

"Not doing enough for you?" she gasps as he shifts underneath her, hitting all the right spots. 

"You're perfect, just wanted to touch you," he says with pink cheeks. She can feel him throbbing underneath her, the heat straining against his pants.

Michelle rolls her neck, letting her hair sweep down her back—and Peter takes advantage of the exposed skin to press kisses to the column of her throat.

When she tugs his shirt up and feels the hard ripple of his abs beneath, MJ lets out an involuntary gasp that makes him smirk. 

"Shut up," she says, her fingers not missing a beat as she continues unbuttoning his shirt.

"I didn't say anything," Peter says, still grinning at her like an asshole.

Just as she’s about to deal with his belt, Felicia joins them and offers the birthday boy a “double surprise”

"I got the rest of them passed out downstairs," she whispers to MJ, "and their little ringleader's black AmEx."

While they’re dancing and grinding up on each other, putting on a show for the increasingly flustered Peter, Felicia asks MJ why she’s taking so long with him. MJ whispers back that she’s not sure about following through with the hustle anymore.

“Okay, fine! I’m wussing out, okay?” MJ hisses back, pissed off even while her hand is caressing the other woman and stroking her back. “Fucking hell, Felicia. This is so fucked up.”

Felicia rolls her eyes, sliding her leg in between MJ’s thighs. “Whatever, princess. I’ll take care of the birthday boy for you, okay?” 

MJ doesn’t like the idea of Felicia taking over and seducing Peter, and fights her attempts to convince him to drink his drugged champagne. 

Peter seems very confused but MJ can still see the tent in his pants, so she figures he's still turned on while he watches them.

His eyes widen when Felicia says, "I've got it from here, kitten," even though he shouldn’t be able to hear her inaudible whisper. So MJ thinks he's figured out the answer to his increasingly weird questions—not that she has a clue what's going on. Asking someone if they land on their feet when they fall over is fucking weird, and she only let him get away with it because his embarrassed face is cute.

Either they're not being particularly sly, caressing each other while stage whispering—or Peter isn't dumb as a bag of rocks because he panics and his glass goes flying.

When he catches the champagne flute before it shatters on the floor, Felicia curses but then morphs her frustration into her patented smirk, "and I wasn't even planning on catching a spider tonight."

As Peter and Felicia each adopt defensive stances and stare combatively at each other, MJ thinks she should have stayed behind the bar, instead of standing there with her nips out and wondering, "What the actual fuck is going on?!"

Etc.

[sailorhyunjinz]

~ 𝕋𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕡𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 ~

Part III

© sailorhyunjinz 2021; Rights Reserved

All picture rights to their respective owners.

ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥: Photographer!Hyunjin x fem!model!reader, manager!Bangchan, stylist!Jisung, agedup!straykids, SMUT, fluff, character driven story, stranger to lovers, summer!au, soft!dom hyunjin x fem!reader, PIV, penetrative sex, protected sex (wow first time writing that, good on ya cher) sexual photos/pictures taken during sex, semi-public sex, orgasm (m/f), cum, fingering, blowjob, light choking, praise kink, handkink??

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 5.4 k

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: am so creative with the office numbers? right? tell me im creative LMAO

oh god this was a fucking pain in the ass to read through i cringed at every sentence so hopefully my pain will be your pleasure

Taking pictures of you - MASTERLIST

ONE｜TWO｜THREE

Unlike any other day you couldn’t get out of bed. A boulder of nervousness plaguing you. Through the cracks of the blinds the sun shined in, small particles of dust floating around your resting figure. You were wide awake yet you felt asleep, your thoughts consuming your mind as the dimly lit room became brighter as time ticked on.

You were thinking, perhaps overthinking. This whole situation with Hyunjin seemed confusing and happened way to fast, your psyche not having a moment to digest the events that unfolded during the last couple of days.

Love was a feeling you were familiar with. You knew how it felt. Those butterflies in ones stomach, fluttering everytime a thought of the person passes through your ones.

You felt the same feeling everytime you thought of Hyunjin.

How his soft lips would feel against your cheek that was hot from just looking at his beauty. How his blond hair falls in his face everytime he puts it into a ponytail, his silver decorated fingers tucking the stray pieces behind his pierced ear. These thoughts alone would make your heart beat faster than ever, you eyes clouding with lust even if you knew that this relationship would be impossible given the status the both of you have in this judging industry.

Pushing the covers aside, you sat up before slowly stepping out, your feet hitting the cold flooring of the apartment. You stretched your arms upwards, feeling your spine extend as you squinted, a ray of sunshine hitting you right in the eyes.

The boulder in your chest didn’t feel any lighter but you still got up, wanting time to fly by fast just so you could see his face once again.

♡

No amount of mindfulness exercises could calm the churning of your stomach. The clock in your living room ticked as you watched it with careful eyes, waiting for the time to hit precisely half past before you got up from the couch and shuffled over to the wardrobe, only being stopped from a pling on your phone.

[Bangchan] y/n! can you come by in about an hour? need to discuss some concept photos, sorry for such short notice ❤️

That’s when it hit you. Bangchan didn’t know anything about this. He didn’t know that you’d seen the photos from the shoot and most importantly that you went on a date with the photographer. You could only describe the feeling as ‘improper’. Bangchan was after all one of the closest people in your life, he made you to who you are today and lying to him felt wrong but you shielded your eyes from the truth as you typed back.

[y/n] soz, got plans

[Bangchan] I don’t see any other meeting scheduled for today?

[y/n] you do know that I have a life outside of work? take the day off Chan, you could use some rest ❤️

[Bangchan] Don’t worry about me! You have fun alright?

[y/n] alright, see you next week then ^^

You clicked on the off button on your phone, making the text messages disappear. Getting paranoid, you plopped down on the couch, thinking about every possible way you could get caught which you’d already been, photos of you and Hyunjin circulating throughout social media but they mustn’t have reached Bangchan just yet. You felt like digging a hole underground, wanting to hide away from all these thoughts. The main thought in your mind was whether or not you understood Hyunjin’s intentions. 

What if this love was one sided? 

Waveing your hand in the air, you attempted to get the mind out of your head as if you were breaking up a cloud of real thoughts. You glanced up at the clock and only then realised that you were running late, as usual.

“Wear whatever you want”

Was what Hyunjin said last time but that didn’t make it easier to choose an outfit. Standing infront of multiple racks of clothing you pulled up the weather application on your phone. “Sunny” you mumbled, making you gravitate towards a beige croptop with white stripes around the neckline as well as a white tennis skirt. Not too dressed up but not too dressed down either, just right. Clothes were flying everywhere when you searched for a pair of white socks to pair with your white high platform sneakers. You put the outfit on, observing yourself in the mirror and smiling, trying to get yourself in a better mood rather than being a nervous wreck. Pulling up your phone, you snapped a picture and sent it to the person who knew best about fashion. Jisung.

[y/n] Sungie! Is this acceptable for a impromptu photoshoot?

The fashionable boy replied minutes later.

[Jisung] oh!! that’s so cute! very much acceptable in my book 🥺

You smiled at his reply

[y/n] phew! good... 

[Jisung] is it a date?

Your fingers froze above the keyboard on the phone. Was it that noticeable? Was this really a date? 

[y/n] no!!!

[Jisung] you sure, i saw those photos on social media. ahh.. y/n dating famous photographers now...

By this point you were sweating bullets. 

[y/n] first of all, i’m not meeting him and second of all, he’s a friend so shut it. 

[Jisung] hahah alright alright... i won’t tell Bangchan

[y/n] you have nothing to tell!! we’re friends just like you and I so be quiet otherwise i’ll come over there with balloons, popping them in your face.

[Jisung] oh wow... im so scared...

[y/n] need to leave, if i hear something about you spreading some rumors i’ll seriously do it.

[Jisung] Photo Attachment.

The photo that popped up was from yesterday and your breath hitched. You couldn’t help but to notice the way Hyunjin was looking at you, his eyes filled what seemed like adoration. 

[Jisung] yeah because that totally doesn’t look like a date

[y/n] DON’T TELL BANGCHAN PLEASE

[Jisung] oh so it is a date? alright, i won’t! have fun and be safe

[y/n] be safe? we’re taking pictures, not drag racing

[Jisung] hahah stop playing innocent

Your eyes widened in realisation.

[y/n] you crazy fucker

[y/n] I WILL DESTROY YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE IF YOU DON’T SHUT UP I DON’T SLEEP ON THE FIRST DATE

[Jisung] Whatever you say

Thanks to Jisung you were now running dangerously late leading to you snatching objects from all corners of the apartment before ordering a cab that would arrive in minutes.

♡

“We’ve arrived, miss” the cab driver says, smiling at you through the rear-view mirror. You thank him and step out of the yellow car, a smell of car exhaust hitting your nose. The cab drives away, leaving nothing but a small cloud of smoke. You looked up, almost not seeing the tip of the building as the skyscraper towered over you. You’re beside the busy road, mouth agape. You’d walked by a couple of times but knowing that you knew the person that owned at least a bit of the building made you giddy. 

You walked in and was greeted by a grand lobby, a front desk as big as the wall behind it. The entire place was filled with people, everyone from business men in suits to trainee models in the most flamboyant outfits. Fishnet stockings, heavy chains and distressed jeans that consisted of more air then jeans material. The sun shined through the many glass panes that made up most of the ceiling and the slight breeze of the air conditioner made this whole vibe of the building comforting. 

“Hi! y/n y/l/n, meeting Hwang Hyunjin” you say to the receptionist that was a relatively old woman, probably in her early 60′s. She was wearing a white button down shirt with her hair in a high bun, a couple of gray strands sticking out. Her red painted mouth contorted into a smile. 

“y/n, Hyunjin said that you could make your way to his office without the guards. You must be a close friend” 

You smiled shyly with your warm cheeks, looking at either side of the desk where two tall buff men were standing, wearing walkie talkies on their black vests. With a small nod, you started speaking. 

“W-where exactly is his office?”

“Floor 20, his main office is in room 03″

“Thank you!” 

You quickly shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button that lit up with orange light emitting. 

PLING

The doors to the elevator opened and you stepped inside, a couple of office workers joining you and pressing the necessary buttons to make the elevator lift off. 

You step out at the 20th floor, looking around at all the intricate wall design, everything inspired by ancient greece which explains the broken vases that were scattered across the hallway in the most unconventional places. They were all encapsulated with glass and standing on tall white pillars, the vases looking rather sad, being in a spectra of ashy grey colors, every single one of them falling apart. 

Stopping, you observed this one vase that caught your attention. It had swirly details around the edge and was shattered in a rather beautiful way. It made you think how even the most broken pieces still carry beauty, beauty unique to only oneself. 

“It’s pretty right?”

The voice sounded familiar and warm, almost as if it had anticipated your arrival. 

“y-yeah, it really is” 

You say turning around, nearly jumping up on the wall when seeing the figure that looked back at you. It was Hyunjin.

Yet again, his presence was astonishing. Everytime you met him it felt as if you’d met him for the first time. The blond boy was standing tall in front of you, wearing a black hoodie, black basketball shorts and a matching headband. A backpack was thrown across his one shoulder and a smaller camera around his neck, everything about his appearence looking completely different from the last time you saw him, his style usually more sophisticated. 

“On your way to meet me, yeah?” he asked and you nodded shyly. 

“My office is the other way, you know?”

You lifted your gaze to look at the tiny sign on the wall that pointed in two directions, you were walking down the hallway for offices 20-40 by accident and you smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of your head. 

“I didn’t know heh...” 

“It’s alright! Come with me, I was on my way to the studio”

“What room is that? Your office?”

“No, the room next to my office, come! I’ll show you!”

He grabbed your hand and you felt your body stiffen as he dragged you down the hallway, his hand not being decorated with statement rings this time, instead feeling soft and warm. You blanked out, your legs walking by themselves. 

He stopped at a brown door, a tiny gold sign saying « 04 » and beside it a transparent sign stating that this was a photography studio. Hyunjin opened the door and dragged you in, closing the door behind you.

A cold wind hit your warm body, the air conditioner blasting it’s breeze with a faint sound. The room was wide, one wall being made completely out of glass, stand close enough and you could peer down the bustling city filled with people, cars and buildings. The typical photoshoot setup was already in place, the camera being propped up infront of a white backdrop, a white pilar in the middle and two boxlights standing unlit behind the camera. In the corner stood a vintage brown leather couch, the swirly metal details were concealed with a layer of chipped gold paint. Beside the couch stood a simple white table. A black bucket rested on the floor and upon closer inspection you noticed plants, multiple stems of eucalyptus poking out, wrapped in cellophane.

“What are these for?” 

You sat down on your knees infront of the bucket while Hyunjin was pressing buttons on the camera that was screwed onto the tripod before walking over to the table and placing down the camera he had around his neck, his backpack lying lazily on the floor. He looked at your crouching figure, the corners of his lips going upwards.

“I thought they’d suit you”

You held in one of the stems, turning your head and looking at his shy smile, his dimples sitting playfully on the sides of his cheeks. You giggle, standing up and leaning against the white pillar, holding the plant in your both hands. 

“Do they?”

Hyunjin walked towards the steadied camera, bending down and peeking through the lens.

“They do”

click

Your eyes widen, him snapping a picture without you paying attention.

“Hey! I wasn’t even prepared!” you chuckle, pointing at the blonde boy with the long plant that was dripping at the stem. 

“Nature is a bit more beautiful when caught off guard, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, his honey-like voice, echoing through the room.

You nod, staring down at the leafs of the plant, rubbing them between your thumb and pointer finger. 

click

click 

click

“Try leaning with your butt against the pillar and with one foot fully on the side of the pillar”

You did as he told, the pillar being surprisingly stable.

“Tilt your head and look down to the right”

Once again, you follow his instruction and he hums in satisfaction before pushing the button on the camera twice.

click

click

Your warm face turned into a smile, laughing loudly from embarrassment when he observed the pictures on his display. He snickers quietly from shyness, a faint blush brushing across his features as his brown eyes were glued to the screen. Hyunjin peeks up from the camera, seeing you looking down at the backdrop that was filled with ashy grey shoeprints. 

The sound of his footsteps got closer until you saw them in your periferal view causing you to look up at his tentative face. He smiles, displaying his pearly white teeth and crescent shaped eyes before stretching his hand out, feather light fingertips grazing your hot cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, your dainty gold earrings now visible. Hyunjin’s hand lingers on your jaw as he looks at you with a gleam in his eyes, you gulping loudly as your gaze lowers to his pouty pink lips. Leaning forward, Hyunjin tilts his head, attaching his lips onto yours, your heart skipping a beat from the comforting feeling of having him close to you. 

You drop the fragile twig on the floor, kissing him back by pursing your lips and tilting your head as well. The romantic tension that has been bubbling on the surface everytime you met had finally subsided, now the air overflowed sexual tension. 

Cupping his blushed cheeks, you deepen the kiss my licking his plump bottom lip, coaxing his tongue that eventually slipped into your mouth. His hands were firmly planted on your waist, pulling you closer to his body that radiated heat in the already scorching summer weather. 

The two tongues danced around in a impatient manner, the two of you dreaming of this moment since meeting. Hyunjin’s hands roamed over all the valleys of your body, placing his hands on the bottom of your butt, pulling you even closer, close enough to feel his semi-erection against your abdomen. Your eyes spring open in realisation, your body melting in his arms as you felt the effects of the deep kiss, the effects being you unable to control the wet patch that was forming on your underwear, nothing but the thin fabric seperating it from the air due to you wearing a skirt. 

Pulling away from the kiss, your hot breath and a line of saliva was the only thing that seperated you and Hyunjin. You shielded your face from his twinkling eyes, you glancing at the blonde boy through the gaps between your fingers. His two hands grip your wrists, pulling your hands down as he smiles widely

“Don’t hide that pretty face”

Hyunjin giggles, your chuckles following shortly after. The boy grips your wrist tightly, walking backwards as he looks intensely into your eyes, his back falling against the couch as you sit down on the couch on your knees, he looks at you for a moment before attaching his lips again, pushing you down and hovering above you. The wet sounds of the sloppy kiss fills your ear, you helplessly rubbed your thighs together in anticipation. His fingertips trailed down your chest, tracing small circles on the inside of your thigh before plunging down under your skirt, grazing the wet spot on your underwear. The both of you smile into the kiss. 

“Can I?” Hyunjin says, momentarily pulling away from your sweet lips and tugging on the edge of your panties. You nod shyly, not believing that this is happening. 

His lanky fingers run up and down your wet folds as you put your hand at the back of his neck, pulling his blushing face closer to yours and pursing your lips to kiss him sensually. Hyunjin’s fingers gently brush up against your clit that was swollen from excitement, sending shivers down your spine. 

You knew this was wrong, the door wasn’t even locked meaning that anyone could walk in at any moment but the way lips felt on yours made a thousand fireworks ignite, sparking from your chest. Wrapping your hand around his wide wrist, you guide his fingers down to your sopping entrace, your entire body craving him inside of you.

Hyunjin places once last peck on your soft lips before looking at you with concern, asking for permission with his fluffy brown eyes. You nod, your eyelashes gently fluttering over your eyes. His middle finger slips into you with ease, shortly followed by a second finger from seeing how good your cunt swallowed his digits, your essence coating them. A faint gasp escapes your lips as his fingers felt around your velvety walls, the whole situation still feeling like a dream. 

“D-does it feel good?” 

“mhm!” you hum, nodding your head as your grasp around his wrist tightens everytime he curls his fingers upwards. Small whimpers came from you as his fingers started pumping in and out, the blond boy chuckling at your reaction. 

“Did you think I was innocent?” 

The question lingers in the air as you look at him in the eyes.

“Y-yes,,,” just as the question you let the answer hang in the air as Hyunjin hummed, being knuckles deep into you and curling his fingers upwards once more, making you choke on your own moan. Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at your body as he thought.

“It’s because,,, because you’re shy,, different from the others.” You added quickly, filling the silence that was soon interupted by your whimpers as the so called ‘innocent boy’ started circling your sensitive bud with his thumb. 

“I think you’re different from the others, you make me like this baby”

Hyunjin said, seconds later crashing his lips against yours, his tongue attacking yours. He retracted his fingers, the tips coated in your juices and glistening in the sunlight. You whined inbetween kisses, the feeling of being empty leaving you disappointed. Hyunjin’s veiny hands trailed up your stomach, pulling the croptop up and resting it just above your boobs, your white bra exposed. 

Hyunjin pulled away from the kiss, the both of you breathless as the kisses you exchanged were anything but light. His two damp fingers made their way to his mouth, licking them with a slight smirk on his lips. You could go crazy from the sight alone, his big brown eyes turning blank with lust. Not being able to control yourself any longer, you sat up on your knees and pulled off the top, unclasping your bra while you’re at it. As the fabric hit the floor, Hyunjin’s eyes darted to your bare tits, the wind from the air conditioner stiffening your two sensitive buds. You looked at him with a jumbled expression, him staring at your nipples for what seemed like an eternity. You hummed softly, causing him to snap back into reality, the blond boy pulling the black hoodie up from his head, displaying the defined muscles on his abdomen. You wanted him, you wanted him so bad. 

Your knees hit the floor with a thump as looked up at Hyunjin, knealing between his two legs and watching the tent in his loose shorts grow. 

“Do you really want to do this,, y/n,, you don’t have t-”

You hushed before speaking.

“Don’t worry, Hyunjin” you say with a stern voice making Hyunjin shiver, not knowing if it’s from your tone of voice or the way his name rolled of your tongue.

The blonde boy grabbed the small camera that was resting on the table, you looked up at him with confusion before smiling at his pleading eyes that met yours. You nodded, knowing exactly what he wanted to do and giving him permission since you never knew if he’d get to see you like this ever again. 

You hook your two hands on the sides of his shorts and underwear, pulling the fabric down as Hyunjin awkwardly lifts his hips up from the couch for a moment, allowing you to slide the both garments down in one nimble motion. His veiny length sprung out, the tip hitting his abdomen for a moment before resting infront of your eyes, a bead of precum already leaking from his delicate slit. You gulp, the task of sucking him off suddenly seeming daunting. Hyunjin must have noticed since his face turned concerned, a half smile flashing across his lips. 

“y/n,, you don’t have to-aghh!”

Hyunjin was cut of by his own breathy moan, your pursed lips wrapping around his leaking tip, licking small kitten licks before sinking deeper down his impressive length. Hyunjin’s blonde hair fell out of his face when his head rolled back in pleasure, resting it against the back of the rustic couch. 

“f-fuck y/n,,, just- just like that”

He hummed out, his sweet voice intoxicated with desire. Your tongue swirled around his pretty red tip, simultaneously stroking the part doesn’t fit inside of your wet mouth. Multiple shutters of the camera was heard, his hand barely stable enough to hold it due to the pleasure that was shooting through his core. It didn’t take long before his dick twitched against you lips, your cheeks hollowed as bob up and down his girth. His eyes rolled back into his skull as his hand went down to cup your cheek, your eyes stinging with tears as you choked around him. Pulling off with a pop, his dick glimmered as a heavy layer of saliva rested on it, his already warm body turning hotter. He looks down at you, a smug half-smile errupting on his lips as he continued to stroke your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone as he flicked through the photos on his camera, the half-smile now a full on expression of happiness. The two of you sat like that for a while, the silence engulfing the room as you observed his indescribable features. His sharp jawline contrasted with his soft skin that had a dust of rose pink across the cheeks, his moles adding to his charm. 

“Fuck me, Hyunjin”

The words slipped out of your mouth, his brown shiny eyes widening before being overtaken by a blank gaze, placing the silver camera back on the tiny table. 

“You thought I would stop here?”

Now it was your turn to be flustered, his sugary sweet voice interlaced with the cocky words making you even wetter then before, if that’s even possible. Without answering, he pulled you up to the couch by your hand and laying you down before realising what he forgot. The blond boy reached for the baggy backpack laying on the white floor, unzipping the front pocket and fishing out a condom. You nodded shyly, feeling your hands getting sweatier from nervousness, not really sure where to put them. Hyunjin noticed your gaze that was running all over the room, your body slightly tense. The boy snickered, ripping the shiny wrapping open with his hands where veins had started to become apparent. 

“Something wrong?” He asks shyly, placing the condom on his leaking tip before rolling the rubber onto his length. You shake your head.

“J-just thinking,,,” you say, your voice fading out at the end. 

“About?” His voice inhibiting a questionable tone as he holds himself up above you, his elbows on either side of your head. 

“A-about,,, you” 

That was a lie. You thought about how this would end up being disclosed to your company and your friends, Felix would snap your head if he found out that you slept with Hyunjin. Did it even have to be disclosed? Couldn’t it just be a secret between you and Hyunjin? As much as you wish that it could, it simply couldn’t. Not working in this industry. 

Hyunjin smiled softly, his hand trailing down the curves of your body before lifting up the fabric of your skirt, his fingers pushing your panties aside and feeling your throbbing pussy once again. His caramel eyes looked into you the entire time. 

Lifting himself up, he positioned the tip of his member at your sopping entrance, you chuckling softly as he gripped your hips but your chuckle was quickly replaced by a loud gasp, his dick stretching out your tight pussy better than you thought. 

“Are you ok, y/n?” 

He said softly, his dick not even halfway in but already jerking from your welcomingly wet and warm cunt wrapping around his crimson tip. You nodded, looking up at him. 

“Pl-please,, keep going Hyunjin”

The blonde boy blushed, his ears turning red. Tightening the grip on your hips he fully entered you, you shutting your eyes tightly from the slightly painful but pleasurable experience. Glancing down at you, he had to use every bit of discipline to not pound into you. In his eyes you looked angelic. Your parted lips that we’re coated by saliva and the way your skirt bunched up around your waist made it feel like torture to be inside of you, not moving to let you adjust to his size. 

“C-can I move?” He asks impatiently to which you smile, nodding and wrapping your legs around him, pulling him closer to your warm body. Your breath hitched as he softly wraps his hand around your neck, him thinking he’d gone too far.

“I-im sorry! I-” 

You hush him, placing your index finger over his plush pink lips. 

“I’ll tell you if anything doesn’t feel good, alright?” You so desperatly wanted to place a “baby” at the end of the sentence, that nickname fitted him but being to scared to confess your feelings. Just because he wants you doesnt mean he loves you. Hyunjin nodded like an excited puppy, finally getting the permission of moving and feeling your clenched walls around his length, his one hand still wrapped around your throat. 

His thrusts were slow, filled with passion which only worsened your longing for him, the longing of him being yours. Small whimpers dripped from between your parted lips, the moans being mixed with Hyunjin’s low grunts and sounding like a melody. You peeked up at the model-like boy, his expression being synonymous to pleasure. The movements eventually quickened, his long cock hitting your cervix with every thrust, making you put your hands behind his back, your fingernails digging into his soft honey skin. His previously closed eyes fluttered open, watching you with a soft gaze through his fierce eyes. You smiled and he smiled back before his gaze drifted away from yours.

“Y-you feel so good y-y/n,,, you’re an angel”

Chuckling and moaning at the same time, his praise gave you a sense of security but also a sense of lust, wanting to coax out even more dangerously sweet words from his pretty mouth. 

“Go faster,,, Hyunjin”

You gasped out, the pleasure starting to pick up it’s pace. The sound of skin slapping against each other bounced off the white walls in the big studio, the old sofa creaking ever so often from the blond boys powerful thrusts. Hyunjin would never get tired of hearing you say his name, never. 

The knot in your stomach signaled your impending orgasm as your walls were stretched out. You pleaded him to not stop, your voice sounding frail as you neared your sweet release. The hot tempeture wasn’t helping the situation, sweat beading underneath Hyunjins headband, soaking the two strands of blonde locks that hanged infront of his face. 

“F-fuck,, y/n you’re so pretty with my hands wrapped around your throat, fuck-” 

A loud groan escaped his lips, the pleasure of your wet pussy against his rock-hard length getting too much, Hyunjin having to hold back until you came, not wanting to appear selfish. It wasn’t long until you felt your legs shaking around him, your toes curling as the squeaky sound from the couch increased along with the speed of Hyunjin’s thrusts, the rubber not giving him as much intimacy as he would have liked but the visual of you lying beneath him, squirming away from bliss and softly moaning made up for it. 

“I think- i think I’m cumming, s-shit Hyunjin, I’m cumming”

The words spilled from you, quickly followed by a incoherent mumbling of his name before a wave of hot flashed through your entire body, your walls clenching around him as your erotic juices coated his twitching cock. You held your hands against your face that was lightly coated with sweat but before you could come down from your high Hyunjin pinned your hands above your head by your wrists, him letting out a growl before his cum filled the tip of the condom. The both of you rode out your powerful orgasm, your moans softening as the intense feeling subsided, Hyunjin shivering with his last thrust before pulling out. 

The light sound of the air conditioner was now accompanied with heavy panting, your chest heaving as Hyunjin softly pulled down your skirt and ran his hand through his blonde hair, pushing the stray hairs away before rolling off the cumfilled condom and throwing it on the floor, the rubber landing on the dark clothing that were pooling next to the leather couch. The young boy lays down beside you, your eyes fixed on the ceiling as you faded away in a million thoughts, still trying to process what just happened. You turned your head against his, feeling his lingering gaze on your face and you swore you could hear your heart beat in your ears as his cheekbones lifted, his now cherry red lips turning into a soft smile. 

“Do you like me?” 

You choked on your own saliva, coughing and sitting up in panic making Hyunjin worry, him patting you on the back as he sat up next to you. 

“I-im sorry,, I shouldn’t have- y/n,, so-sorry”

He mutters out as you start laughing, he looking confused at your chuckling figure. 

“T-that’s,,, quite the direct question” you say, clearing your throat before continuing. “I don’t know Hyunjin. You know that this isn’t possible”

You saw his previously twinkling eyes turn blank, his heart sinking. 

“Uhm,,, n-no totally not,,, I just said it to-”

He tried to play cool, brushing off the fact that he didn’t get the answer he so longed for. His gaze turning away from your angelic face.

“But I like you”

You spoke quietly, your voice cracking at the end. Hyunjin turned back to you.

“Why wouldn’t it work then?” he asked with a confused voice. You sighed

“Hyunjin, do you not know who you are? We fucked in a building where you own half of the rights, you work with famous people and your work is in every magazine, don’t you understand?”

He stayed silent for a while, comtemplating on what to say before grabbing your clammy hand. 

“Do you only see me for my career?”

You shake your head, trying to catch eye contact with the blonde boy but failing as he stares down at your small hand in his grasp. 

“Hyunjin, I love you but this feels way to quick,,, I can’t just-”

“I’ve known about you for a while, y/n. Do you know why we even worked together in the first place?” 

Hyunjin speaks calmly, a thin string of sadness threading through his voice. You shake your head, looking at him but he looking away.

“I reached out to Bangchan first”

You weren’t surprised, only confused. What did he see in you? 

“I know it might seem,, rushed! But if- if we both like each other then we can make it work. Please don’t worry about our reputations, you are more than your career y/n even if it means the world to you.”

Hyunjin hesitated finishing his sentence, feeling sick to his stomach from the fear of rejection. You withdrew your hand, instead opening your arms and hugging him to which he smiled and hugged you back, the both of you falling back on the couch facing each other. 

“I think I love you,,, like,,, I really love you”

Hyunjin brushed away a strand of hair from your face, his tender eyes meeting yours. 

“And I love you too, y/n”

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

@vogueinnie​ @that-anxious-bisexual @putmetogetheragain13 @hyunsluvv @lawleighette​ @meow-minho @minaamhh @ohmysparkle @hwangi @rindomo @fleeingreality​​​​​​​ @nycol-ie @jisungsplatforms @p0t4t0don14ll @skzstanlol

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) Jungkook x OC

Rated : 18 +

Warning : . Fuck buddies? Or rather enemies that have sex. They just really hate each other but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

Chapter 6

“Are you sure you want to head back to work today, Areum? Hoseok told me that he would give you the rest of the week off if you like... That bruise on your face is looking pretty nasty.” My sister commented mildly, her eyes worried as she watched me dab concealer on the mottled purpling skin on my jaw.

“I need to finish a couple of reports by the weekend. And Namjoon oppa told me he wanted me to be there when we viewed the CCTV footage later today. It’s going to help getting that bastard fired.” I flinched at how bad this side of my face looked. 

The bastard. 

“He’s not fired yet?” My sister made a noise of outrage.

“Of course he is. There’s a restraining order against him. But formally he needs to be terminated and Namjoon wants to do it in a way that it goes on his record permanently. Especially considering he’s already out on bond.” I wrinkled my nose. 

There wasn’t much chance of Junho going to prison over this but I definitely did not want him within fifty feet of me, ever again. 

“Jungkook’s busy with his practice is it? I haven’t heard from him...” My sister prompted and I nodded.

“His big match is coming up on Sunday. That's like four days away ...he’s probably cooped up in that gym of his.” 

“I know... Seokjin works out there too... its a great place...how come you’re never there?”

I frowned .

“He actually has me blacklisted. I’m not allowed inside the establishment. ” I muttered. 

My sister’s eyes widened.

“What? Why?”

I shrugged. The memory was a good one and worth reliving. In fact i relived it quite often when I was particularly horny with only my own hands for relief. 

“I seduced him against his favorite punching bag once and he had to get rid of it because the cum stains wouldn’t come off. He’s a petty jerk.” I grinned at my sister enjoying the way her eyes went wide as saucers. .

She stared at me slack jawed. And then she shook her head in disbelief. 

“You talk about him this way but you always look like you're half way in love with him. I don’t know what is going on in your head when it comes to Jungkook.”

I laughed.

“I love him. Of course I do.... I’m pretty sure he cares about me too, “ I remembered how warm and content I’d felt when he’d held me, how the police officer had immediately concluded he was my boyfriend, simply from the concern radiating off him, “  But, I’m not going to push for anything. I like how we are ...now.”

“Friends with benefits.?”

“I prefer the term enemies who fuck” I winked and she groaned. 

“Whatever you say. But remember, you’re going to have to DTR at some point and I hope you don’t get a shock if he isn’t on the same page. “ 

“Unlikely. Now go distract mom so I can slip out of the back door.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That looks pretty fucking bad.” Hoseok winced when he saw me and I groaned.

“Don’t remind me. I ran into Namjoon on the way up and he swelled like a bullfrog. Is Jungkook in today?” I asked him brightly.

Hoseok frowned.

“you guys are awfully chummy these days ....Need I remind you about the clause on interpersonal relationships in the office?” 

I flushed.

“We’re...not....I mean. We’re friends. “

“I thought the term was enemies who fuck.” Hoseok said thoughtfully and I jumped.

“What-?”

“Jungkook told me, you little brat. I asked him why he went over to the police station and broke Junho’s fucking jaw and he spilled...”

My own jaw came unhinged.

“ He what?!”

 “He posted the bond money for the bastard himself to get him out and then apparently punched him hard enough to land him in the hospital.”

“Oh my God...is he in trouble?” 

Hoseok sighed.

“Of course not... Mr. Jeon had it taken care off at once but I knew something was up . He’s too old to play knight in shining armor , unless there was something between you guys...” 

I sighed.

“We’re in a purely physical relationship yes with of course a splattering of affection for each other. But nothing that deserves a label or close scrutiny from the HR dept. Please Hobi oppa, just let me be. “ I fluttered my lashes and he rolled his eyes. 

“Just as long as you know that Jeon Jungkook is a chaebol. He’s not going to make a honest woman out of you.” Hoseok gave me a pointed look and I wondered if I really did wear my heart on my sleeve. 

Apparently, everyone could sense that my feelings for Jungkook ran deeper than just lust and I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. 

“Anyway, yo answer you question, yes. He’s in his office right now.”

I made to turn away but Hoseok grabbed my wrist.

“You have thirty five memos to answer and seventeen appointments to schedule. Your desk is this way, I suggest you head in that direction.” His eyes glinted in a way that told me he was incredibly serious. 

I pouted.

Fine... I’d wait for lunch to go meet Jungkook.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook had a secretary of his own , the smitten Miss Lee and she gave me an angelic smile, telling me that Jungkook was out to meet someone in the marketing department. If there was anything important, I could leave it with her.

Declining the offer and thanking her, I made my way to the fireescape and the back stairwell. One of the doors opened to the emergency exit in Jungkook’s office and it took me a little bit of running around but I managed to locate it easily enough. 

Jungkook had left the door open and less than ten minutes later , I was in his office, staring around in mild awe. 

Weirdly enough, I’d never been here. before, mostly because Jungkook himself wasn’t in here all that much. But there was no mistaking that he actually did take his work seriously . I peered around the expensive drawing Tablet and the three or so monitor screens , the stylus tossed about. 

It was probably a huge breach of his privacy but I couldn’t help but click on the mouse, watching his monitor come alive. 

I blinked in disbelief when I realized what I was staring at. 

“Oh my  fuck...”  I

I felt my face flood with heat as I stared at the screen. 

It was a drawing of me. 

I was completely naked , reclining against what looked like a thick white fur rug , with countless plush cushions scattered all around me. The snow white fur set off the golden glow of my skin and I noticed the attention to detail, the tiny mole in the corner of my hip, the small half moon scar on the edge of my collar bone and of course an impressive collection of hickeys on my neck and my inner thighs. 

I looked the way I usually did when I was mouthing off at him, a little angry and rebellious, my eyes blazing with a challenge and my lips parted in annoyance . I had one hand resting right between my legs, two fingers pressed against the labia while the other two disappeared into me. The other hand lay on my breast, fingers tweaking one hard nipple . 

I turned away quickly, breathing harshly as I realized that Jungkook had literally drawn an incredibly accurate drawing of me masturbating , purely from memory.

Not entirely sure if i should be angry at this or not, I tried to clear the hazy cloud of arousal that was beginning to settle all over me. I wasn’t angry. 

I was just ridiculously turned on. 

And incredibly curious if he had other pics of me. 

I whirled back around to the computer and then nearly jumped out of my skin when I realized that Jungkook was leaning against the doorway, watching me with an amused smile on his face. 

“Oh, fuck...” I clutched at my heart which felt like it was going to give out. 

“Pretty sure your desk isn’t here, Areum. Are you lost?” He drawled, stepping away from the door and stalking over to me. 

I stepped back quickly, the action purely instinctive. 

“Did you punch Junho?” I asked sharply.

Jungkook gave me a small smile.

“That is a very mild way to put it yes. He’s gonna be eating through a straw for a couple of months , yes.”

I glared at him. 

“What if you got arrested.” I folded my arms.

He laughed.

“Baby, come on. fucker had it coming. Anyway enough about that loser. Why are you hovering near my desk. Corporate espionage is generally frowned upon baby... Am i gonna have to spank you, you naughty girl?” He waggled his eyebrows. 

I rolled my eyes before walking up to his desk and turning the screen around to show the lewd artwork . 

“how long have you been drawing me like that?” I pointed at the screen and Jungkook looked surprised. 

Surprised but not particularly bothered. 

“Ah... i love that one... Did you see the way I only drew four of your fingers between your legs baby, your thumb is supposed to be rubbing on your clit.... I was working on it when I got called away earlier....” He looked apologetic. 

I felt like I had turned the exact shade of the marron carpet under my foot. 

“Jungkook how long have you been drawing me naked...” I snapped. 

“ Oh... probably the first time you let me see you naked.” He said nodding lightly and I stared at him.

“How come I’ve never heard of this?” I hissed and he gave me a grin. 

“Because it’s for my own personal...use.” He grinned. 

I glared at him.

“How many....?” I demanded.

Jungkook shrugged.

“50...? 60? Definitely at least fifty.” He said casually. 

I stared at him.

“I wanna see them.” I said sharply. Jungkook sighed, like I was being a pain , which was so unfair it made me want to scream. 

“Areum, I-” 

“Jungkook?” A soft voice called from the outer office and I frowned when Jungkook startled. 

“Oh, hey... Sana..... Come in.” His voice had shifted into something mild and pleasant and I felt my hackles rise. 

“Oh..hello... Areum ssi...” The girl gave me a confused smile and I resisted the urge to fold my hands and demand what she was doing there. Instead , I moved away from behind Jungkook’s desk, grabbing a file. 

“Good afternoon Sana ssi.” I smiled.

“I’m sorry, I missed lunch, Sana.... I wanted to give you this. “ Jungkook pulled out a small envelope from his jacket, smiling an absolutely angelic smile at her. 

Sana looked suitably enthralled, her eyes trained greedily on his perfect face as she took the envelope.

“Oh.. are these--?”

“Tickets to my match on Sunday yes...” He smiled. “ I’m hoping you’ll be there.” 

I felt my lungs expand as I took a deep breath to calm myself down. The urge to screech like a banshee was increasing by the second. 

“Oh, I’ll be there for sure. I’ll be cheering you on from the front row, Jungkook !!” She all but bounced on her feet, looking positively giddy with excitement as she bowed to both of us and literally floated away. 

I waited till she was fully gone before turning on him. 

“There better be another envelope in there with my name on it.” I gritted out. 

Jungkook grinned wide at that, eyes dancing with mirth. 

“In my jacket? Not really. But there’s something much better in my pants with your name on it. Want me to whip it out for you baby?? “

He grabbed the edge of his belt buckle, tugging the leather out of the hoops and I glared at him. 

“You are out of your mind if you think I’m going to be okay with you letting everyone watch you fight but  me. That is just unfair and uncalled for.” I snapped. 

Jungkook was still tugging on his belt, but he paused to give me a look.

“What’s in it for me?” He said softly. 

I frowned.

“What?”

“I’m not going to enter a deal without an equitable pay off....Its obvious that you’re really turned on by the thought of watching me fight . So unless you give me something I’m thirsty for.... I’m not going to indulge you,” He said casually. 

I laughed in disbelief. 

“There is literally nothing I’ve denied you in bed , you're crazy to even suggest -”

“I haven’t fucked your ass yet.” He said casually. 

I could feel myself turning red.

“No.” I hissed. “ Absolutely not.”

“Why the hell not?” He frowned.

“Because it fucking hurts. I’m not going through that again.” I snapped. 

Jungkook groaned like he was in actual pain. 

“Baby, its hardly my fault you’ve never slept with a real man before me, is it? Why should I deprived the pleasure of fucking your ass just because those buffoons didn’t know how to do it right?” Jungkook’s voice was dangerously close to a whine and I resisted the urge to throw something at him. 

“I don’t fucking care...its a no. So drop it. ” 

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. 

“Fine. I’ll drop it. For now.” He muttered and then made a big show of thinking, “ alright fine. How about you let me tie you up.”

I stared at him.

“You literally do that every time we have sex.” I pointed out. 

“And I get to use my toy box.” 

I blinked.

“Your toy box.” I said , confused. He grinned mischievously. 

“You know the one...Big mahogany box  underneath my bed. The first time I showed you, you kind of screamed and called me a monster?” He grinned wide.

i had a brief flashback of an assortment of whips, floggers and gags. 

I shuddered. 

Nope. 

This wasn’t working. 

“How about this.... Either you get me those tickets or you don’t get to fuck me. At all.” I smirked.

Jungkook hummed.

“Why would you punish yourself like that love?” He drawled. “ You can’t live without my dick, the sooner you accept that the easier life is going to get for you.” 

The audacity of this bitch. 

I walked right past him , ready to stalk out,  but his hand shot out, gripping my elbow and pulling me into his embrace.

I struggled against his hold, but he brought both arms around my waist, flexing his muscles so I could feel just how futile it would be to try and break free. 

“Come on baby, walking out in the middle of negotiations...that’s just really poor etiquette. Think of the poor hostage....” He pouted , doe eyes wide and I nearly caved. He had no fucking business being sexy  and  cute. 

I laughed in disbelief.

“Hostage??....are you talking about your fucking ego....?” I stared right up at him , tilting my face when he moved to kiss me. His lips latched on to my jaw instead, tongue licking the skin there gently as he hummed . 

“No...I’m talking about my dick.” He grabbed both my elbows, swinging me around like I weighed nothing, one arm holding me in place as he pressed up against my back, hips rolling so I could feel the hardness of his dick right against the swell of my ass. “ Dude’’s feeling pretty darn trapped right now. Poor thing just wants to get inside you and ruin you baby, why you making it so hard for him...?” 

I elbowed him sharply, vindicated when the sharp edge of it caught something hard and fleshy. Jungkook grunted in discomfort but didn’t let go of me. 

“My little hellcat. “ He bit down on the juncture between my neck and shoulder, “You know why my dick is hard?”

“To match your cold unfeeling heart?” I snapped and he moaned in mock hurt. 

“Not fair baby...I have the kindest heart... Soft heart, hard dick....That’s literally my entire persona.” Jungkook nuzzled my neck .  

I fought the urge to laugh . 

“So why then? Because I’m within ten feet of you? Isn’t that all it takes usually?” I muttered, wincing a bit when his teeth sank in a little deeper.

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle.

“Normally I’d agree but today... I’m so fucking hard because you looked like you wanted to claw Sana’s face off when I gave her those tickets....” 

I flushed.

“Well, I just don’t think I should be the only one not allowed to see you fight.” 

“Or maybe you just hate the idea of any one else getting to touch my dick...because like I said...it’s got your name on it right baby?” Jungkook laughed against my ear and I blushed . 

“I still think its rude that you don’t let me come to your matches.” I grumbled. 

“And why do you think that is, baby? Why do you think I’m so adamant about you not being anywhere near me when I have something important to do...”

I didn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut when he suckled on the skin near my neck. 

“Its because I’ll probably lose..” He growled into my ear, “ Don’t wanna get knocked out in the first round because I was too busy staring at your pretty, pretty face and delicious fucking body... My only distraction, my  favorite  distraction.”

  I felt myself melt like an ice cream cone in the fucking sun. 

“Oh, fuck you....you honey-tongued son of a bitch...” I choked out, unable to fight the wide grin that was taking over my face. 

Jungkook chuckled in victory, hugging me tighter.

“So tell me.... Can I tie you up tonight? Get some of my favorite toys...Want to play in your sandbox....” He leered and I laughed despite myself. How could this man make the most innocent of phrases sound so fucking sexy.... 

“Only if you let me pick the toys.”

Jungkook let go of me and gently turned me around. He was frowning deeply. 

“Babe you don’t even know what their called.” He complained.

“But I can gauge how much damage they’ll do and that’s more important to me.” I pointed out. 

Jungkook gave me a thoughtful smile.

“Hmm....fine... But I get to offer the choices. “ He said softly. 

I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Okay, in that case you need to let me see every single drawing you’ve made of me... right now.” I smiled.

Jungkook grinned, already grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his desk.

“Deal...but I’m gonna need you to sit on my cock and keep it warm while I show them to you..... okay?” 

I glared at him but he was already moving to the wide , comfortable chair behind the desk. He sat on the chair, manspreading and unbuckling himself before wriggling the slacks down past his waist and tugging his boxers down. 

I watched him reach in to pull out his hard cock ,  pumping the hard length of it a couple of times before smiling at me expectantly. 

“Horny bastard.” I muttered under my breath, before letting him maneuver me into his lap, fingers slipping up my skirt and tugging my panties aside , before lining himself up against my center. 

“Ready baby?” He kissed my cheeks fondly and I nodded lowly. He pressed a couple of fingers against my slit, dipping in just enough to make sure I was wet enough. I wasn’t dry per se, but it still stung a bit when he drove himself in with one swift stroke. 

“Oh, fuck...” I groaned when he entered me , the rock hard length of him cleaving my insides and making my tongue go dry. I clenched down on him, thighs beginning to tremble already. I gripped the edge of the table in front of me. 

“Maybe I should call Sana in now.? Huh baby...that’ll show her who this dick belongs to, right , angel?” He whispered against my ear and I moaned, a gush of arousal staining my thighs at his words., Jungkook laughed knowingly, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me still before rolling his hips gently and settling inside me. 

“So baby, which ones do we start with.... Solo shots? ones with me....? There’s one of me fucking your pretty pink hole, maybe that’ll change your mind about letting me take you in the back...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : I’m stopping here because the next chapter is just like 5k of porn and I wanted it to be a standalone chapter. 

Comments are love , Feedback is really appreciated. Send me your thoughts, ideas or even just scream about how hot Jungkook is....anything works. 

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[pascalpanic]

Alpha Beta Charlie- A Frankie Morales Story

Summary: Frankie is a lonely man with a big heart. His life changes when a new girl comes into his life.

W/C: 4.1k

Warnings: This one is a little heavy. Lots of language, talk of poor mental health (Frankie has depression and anxiety), Frankie’s recovering from a coke addiction, alcohol is prevalent here, harm to animals, lots of talk of blood and injuries.

A/N: This story is different than I normally write. There’s no reader in the story, this is just a story about Frankie Morales and a moment in his life. Please note that this is darker as it centers around an injured animal. Be warned of that. P.S. some of my friends might see ur names in here :) thank u to all of my friends who helped me pick Charlie’s name, and to @ilikechocolatemilkh who helped me create this whole story!

Frankie Morales is a kindhearted man. Anyone who meets him knows it instantly. He’s got a wonderful laugh that’s warm and inviting, and it’s often on display to anyone who chats with him for more than a few seconds. He’s caring, it’s clear, with big brown eyes that radiate compassion. 

His friends would describe him more as an idiot. Frankie, who they call Catfish from their days in the military, insists that they’re the idiots. He’s the voice of reason in their group, making the rational decisions and de-escalating fights within their group. 

That’s not to say Frankie is entirely sunshine and rainbows. He’s now several months sober from a long and grueling addiction to cocaine. It ruined him: it took away his pilot’s license, his everything in life. Flying helicopters was Frankie’s passion, but he’s recovering. He’s on the right track.

He had a girlfriend, who became his fiancée, and left him not long after he returned home from a dangerous mission in South America. It didn’t matter anyway; her child, who Frankie had dedicated all of his heart to before the birth, was revealed to be another man’s. As much as she resented him for taking the mission, he resented her for cheating and lying and holding the information back.

So now Frankie lives on his own. He resides out in a more rural town, not far from where Benny has his weekly fights and Will (also known as Ironhead) works with young military recruits. It’s been a couple of months, and it’s hard to be alone. Santiago pops into town once or twice a month, and it’s always the highlight of Frankie’s very being. His best friend brings light and laughter into his life. When he leaves again, Frankie’s small home feels massive and quiet.

He plays lots of CDs. He has bluetooth speakers all around the home and blasts his favorite songs. He’s learned how to cook and clean and has even learned how to bake a decent, basic version of a nice loaf of bread. He works as a mechanic at a shop in his small town’s center, working the odd hours that no one else wants, the hours where others want to be home with their families.

He’d considered different options to make the house more home-like, more welcoming. He tried his hand at gardening, only to find that he had the opposite of a green thumb. He painted the walls a warmer color, then painted them again. He was currently considering changing the colors for the third time. He’d burn candles that he thought smelled nice. He’d hung up a few photos of him and his friends, or his family. Nothing really worked.

A typical night for Frankie held one of two patterns:

-Night A: Frankie gets home from the shop at about 7:30, hands covered in grease and smelling of burnt motor oil. He gets in the shower and cleans up, then either ends up at Benny’s arena to cheer him on, or at the bar with both Miller brothers.

-Night B: Frankie gets home at the same time. He showers to clean himself, simply because he hates leaving smudges over his home. He cooks a nice dinner or orders takeout. He eats it on the couch and watches a new Netflix series. He gets sad and feels alone and drinks a beer, then a few more, to drown the sensation. He goes to bed early and calls into the shop to see if any of the morning shift workers want to go home early, because he can come in an hour or two before his shift. He claims it’s for the overtime pay. It’s really to avoid the loneliness.

Frankie likes patterns. He likes routine. It’s soothing. Maybe it’s a remnant of his military days, where not a second would pass without having a title affixed to the very second he was living in. Predictability made the hurt easier.

Tonight was an A Night. Frankie and the Miller brothers sat at the bar of McCreary’s and talked about everything and nothing at once. Will talked about the new girl he was seeing. Benny made lewd comments. Frankie smacked his arm and ordered another round for the other two, then nursed one beer for the entire night.

Winters were the worst for Catfish. He lived in the South, where snow was uncommon, but the dreary February weather stole whatever energy he could muster up and sent it up to join the gray masses that hung in the sky, yet never shed their raindrops. It gets dark early, another thing Frankie hates. It reminds him of the look on Tom’s face when he died. Of the way his bachelor home never made sounds unless he created them. Of the way the craving for one more hit of that devious white powder felt, the way it scrambled his brain until he thought it was the only thing that could take it away. 

This A Night, which also happened to be an especially chilly Tuesday, Frankie drove home from the bar at 12:21. The backroads that lead from the suburbs out to the rolling hills are dark, with a rare streetlight or two illuminating a fork in the road that led to a house. The radio droned on, some old Waylon Jennings song that was threatening to send Frankie into a fit of rage and smash a fist into his dashboard. He turned off the radio instead.

Another car drove the opposite way, far in the distance. He could see the lights approaching, then dim slightly. Frankie turned off his brights, instead allowing the road to be illuminated just by his front headlights. He turns up the heat in his truck as a shiver runs down his spine.

Something is running across the road. Frankie can see it now. It’s far from him, but visible in the other car’s light. He slams on his brakes, his body jerking forward.

The other car doesn’t slow.

He slams his horn several times, for whatever is in the road and the other driver.

The thing doesn’t move.

The car doesn’t slow.

The car and the creature- oh fuck, it’s an animal- collide.

Everything that happens next is too quick. The car stops for a moment. Frankie whips the truck into park and turns on his hazards.

The other car stops for a moment. Frankie can just make out a silhouette inside. He gets out of his truck, eyes wide and frantic. He runs to the animal’s side.

The car drives off.

Dust swirls across the road as the car’s tail lights fade into the distance. Leaving just Frankie and his truck and the mangled mess of fur and blood.

“Fucker!” Frankie screams after the car. “You fuckin’ bastard! You didn’t even check, you motherfucker!”

He gets closer and realizes it’s a dog. Its fur is white and brown and so painstakingly red with its own blood, and it whimpers and cries and Frankie realizes the poor fucking thing is still alive. Whether it’s his caretaking or his military instincts that kick in, Frankie isn’t sure, but before he knows it he’s ripping off his jacket and picking up the poor poor baby, oh you little angel, he coos to it, wrapping it in the denim and setting it in his passenger seat.

It’s still whimpering and crying, and Frankie gets in the driver’s seat and grabs his phone. “Nearest 24-hour pet hospital,” he shouts into it, hands shaking. He doesn’t realize either reaction is happening. It gets the words wrong. “No, fuck,” he groans, shifting the truck into drive and whipping a U-turn. He types in the words as he starts to speed back in the direction of the town. He knows he shouldn’t text and drive and normally he doesn’t, but he’s a fucking former military helicopter pilot, he rationalizes with himself, he can handle this. He finds the directions and types them in and tears start dripping from his eyes.

“Hang in there, buddy, hey,” he says and rubs the poor dog’s big ears as they drive. “It’s gonna be 30 minutes. Think you can hang on for me?” he asks it, not expecting a response. He wants to check the dog’s sex but now is certainly not the time, not while he’s doing 85 in a 60 zone and the dog’s blood is seeping into his denim jacket and his passenger seat.

The tears are flowing freely from his eyes now, his heart breaking. He can feel the animal’s shallow breaths as he drives, and he sobs to himself. “Hang on, buddy. It’s gonna be okay, I gotcha. I’m Frankie,” he introduces himself to the dog, “and I’m gonna take real good care of you. You’re gonna be alright and we’re gonna get you fixed up and back to your owners.”

The drive takes 24 minutes when Frankie is flying down the backroads. Fuck if a cop sees him. Fuck blowing a tire. That can be cared for later, when there’s not a dying creature next to him. A steady murmur of ‘it’s okay’ spills from Frankie’s lips. He’s not sure if he’s saying it to the dog or himself. One hand firmly grips the steering wheel and the other never leaves the animal’s body. He comforts the poor creature, murmuring more reassurances the closer they get. 

“Please hang in there for me, cariño,” Frankie whimpers, chewing his bleeding lip. “I gotcha. It’s all gonna be alright, bud.”

When he sees the hospital, he drives a little faster. He pulls into the emergency room area and parks in front of the door, turning on his hazards and running inside. There are a few veterinary nurses inside and they greet him, but their looks turn to fear when they see the denim-wrapped animal. “Please, please, Idon’tknowthisisn’tmydogitwasahitandrunandIpickeditup-”

“It’s alright, sir, come with us. Please breathe and tell us again,” a kind woman tells him with a hand on his arm, rushing him and the dog back. Frankie calms down after a moment and explains what happened. “It’s not my dog, I don’t know whose dog this is, you gotta check it for a chip-” he rambles.

“It’s alright, sir,” the nurse tells him kindly and takes the dog from his arms. Frankie clutches after it and a new woman pushes his arms down. “We’re going to take it back and operate on it. Would you please wait here for us? We’ll come give you updates as we get them,” she tells him, gesturing to the waiting room. He nods. “And is this your dog’s first time here?” She asks.

The tears come back, choking his throat as water falls steadily from his eyes. “It’s not even my fuckin’ dog, man,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth again.

The woman is still kind. “I see. Please, sit, Mr….”

“Morales,” he manages out.

She nods. “Mr. Morales. I understand you’re worried. Please just wait in here for us and we’ll bring you information when we have it.” He nods softly, grabbing a tissue from the front desk. He wipes his eyes and nose. “My truck is parked right outside, it’s in the way, I’ll go park it somewhere else,” he tells her.

“That’s perfectly fine, sir. You can even leave and come back if you’d like.” He shakes his head. “I’ll be right back,” he tells her and walk-jogs outside, getting in his car and bringing it around to park.

-

Frankie enters the emergency room again and sits in a chair. He worries and worries for hours, texting his group chat with the Millers and Santiago. He gives them a play-by-play, but only Santiago responds. He sits awake for another hour, nervously wringing his ball cap.

The dog must be alive, or at least be able to save, he rationalizes with himself. After a while, the worry fades and he falls asleep. Two hours later, no other patients around to disrupt him, he’s woken by the nurse who took the dog back. “Mr. Morales?” She calls out gently.

He jumps awake. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me.” He sits up from his slumped state, readjusting the cap from where it had been resting over his eyes.

The nurse smiles softly at him and sits in a chair across the waiting room from him. “The dog is safe now. We had to amputate her front left leg, and she had a lot of stitches, but she’s stable and looks like she’ll do well.” He lets out a sigh and her smile becomes more genuine. “You told us she isn’t yours?”

She. The dog is a girl. Of course she is, Frankie smiles a little. The smile falls as he remembers the fact again. “No, no. It was a hit and run. I saw it happen, the other guy took off, it wasn’t me who hit her, I’m-”

“Mr. Morales.”

“Right. No, she’s not mine.”

The nurse nods and writes that down. “Well, we scanned her several times. She has no chip, no identifiers at all. Our options now are to send her to some rescue or kennel of some sort, or you can take her home with you.”

His heart breaks at the image of the sweet dog in the front seat of his car going somewhere without daily love and affection. “She’ll come with me,” he answers before he can rationally think about it.

“Wonderful,” she nods, marking that down as well. “She’s looped up now on some drugs. We’ll let her sleep them off for a bit and then she’s all yours. We do have some procedures we’ll need you to follow, for caring for the wound and such. But after that, it should be all good. You’re free to head out now. We can call you when she wakes up.”

Frankie nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be great.” He looks down at his watch and notices how early in the morning it is. “Thanks,” he tells her with a genuine smile, taking off his cap and running his hands through his hair before replacing it.

- From that moment on, Frankie was enamored with the dog. He called in from work when the shop opened bright and early at 6:00 A.M. 

“Hey Carol. It’s Morales.”

“You can stop asking if you can come in early, Frank. Just do it,” the woman chuckles on the other line. A loud slurp is audible- it’s the coffee she’s always drinking, the dark sludgy shit that she brews in the break room that Frankie can’t stand but she absolutely adores.

“No, uh. Actually, I was calling in to see if someone else could cover for me today.” He explains the whole story to her, wringing his cap between his hands. “So. I was kind of hoping I could take the day to look for the dog’s owners and care for her.”

There’s a beat of silence over the phone. “Of course, Frankie,” the older woman says kindly. “You got a real big heart, kid. Real big. That’s awful kind.”

He smiles a little. “Just doing what I can. Thanks, Carol.”

“Keep me posted, Catfish.” The woman hangs up.

Frankie’s in more comfortable clothes now. He didn’t sleep at all once he got home, waiting for the hospital’s call. He distracts himself, cooking a breakfast he only picks at, watching his new series halfheartedly on the couch.

The animal hospital calls him again at 7:30. He gets off the couch immediately and into the truck. There’s a bit of blood on the passenger seat, from where the dog wasn’t immediately covered by his jacket. It’s not a worry, though, he thinks to himself. He’ll get some stain remover and maybe a new and nicer jacket. 

When he arrives, they usher him back to a check-up room. The dog is lying down but she wags her tail at Frankie, looking up at him with big brown eyes that could rival his own. “Hey, sweet thing,” he calls softly, and the dog stands and walks over to him. It’s pained, that much is clear, but she’s already adjusting to walking with one less limb. She rests her head on Frankie’s lap and he scratches her ears gently. 

Some paperwork is filled out and Frankie leads the dog out to his truck with the leash and collar the hospital provided. He lifts her into the passenger seat and she snuggles in. The scent is familiar to her. 

Frankie drives her to a pet store nearby, smiling over at her. She looks at ease with him, relaxed and trusting. Of course she is. This is the man who saved her. 

He helps her down once they arrive and leads her inside. Her walking is pained, he can tell. “Aw, honey,” he frowns. There are carts right inside; Frankie sees the immediate solution. He scoops her up and sets her in a cart. Her tongue hangs out happily as they go through the store. “We’re gonna get you all kinds of fun stuff, huh?” He asks, scratching her head. 

Frankie spares no expense for the dog. As they cross through the store, the cart fills: bags of food and treats, a new leash, and a pink collar decorated with donuts “because you’re such a sweetie, right cutie?”, doggie bags, and food and water dishes. Finally they reach the toy aisle. “Do you wanna pick your own toy?”

He picks her up and sets her down on the ground, unclipping her leash to allow her to explore the toy aisle. She meanders, sniffing toys here and there, even considering one big bone. A few moments later, she comes tottering back to the cart with a toy in her mouth. It’s a big plush hedgehog.  Frankie grins. “Aw, that’s a good one! Good choice, cutie.” He kisses her head as he puts her back in the cart. 

They check out and drive home, and Frankie allows her to wander inside. “Welcome home. At least for now. I suppose I should put an ad out for you online.” 

The dog doesn’t respond, just wanders around the house, sniffing the furniture warily and looking back at Frankie. Asking if he’s coming. He smiles and leads her to the couch, sitting down on it. “I know they say you shouldn’t let dogs on the furniture, but I think you and I can share.” She jumps up and Frankie praises her, giving her a smooch and earning a big lick in return. “Oh, pretty girl, I think you’ll like it here,” he coos to her. She snuggles into his side with a sigh and Frankie sighs too. 

Over the next few days, he posts ads for her, but no one responds. He reaches out to people from the area he was driving in, but no one responds. After Day 4 of searching, there’s no response and he allows himself to sigh in relief. “You’re mine now, baby girl,” he coos to the dog, who’s happily panting and grinning. 

During the first week, Frankie tries out different names for her. None of them seem to stick. He wonders if she ever even had a name before. Ada, Lucille, Thea, Sunny, Miki, Zulu, Fox, Pancake. None of them work right for her personality. 

It’s not until late one night when Frankie’s coke cravings decide upon a name for her. 

It’s 2:24 in the morning and Frankie is quaking like a leaf. The dog is cuddled up into his side on the bed. Wherever he goes around the house, she follows. He’s biting his lip so hard it’s drawing blood. Normally when he’s this anxious, when he yearns to call his dealer, he rides it out by balling his fists so tight his knuckles turn white. But his dog seems to notice. 

She rests her chin on his hip, wagging her tail against the mattress with a steady thump. She whines quietly. She knows. 

Frankie’s at least momentarily distracted. “Hey, beautiful, what’s wrong?” He asks her, scratching his head and rolling over to pet her. He’s still desperate but the focus shifts from the sensation of one last hit to the feeling of her soft fur beneath his fingers. She sighs happily and snuggles into Frankie’s side, and he starts to cry. 

No one has ever needed him. Not his plants: they’re succulents. He deals with them once every other week. Not his former fiancée. She didn’t need him, just liked him for his money and his dick late at night. Not his friends. They had other friends to go to. No, this dog needs him, and it makes his heart feel like it’s going to burst. 

Sitting up, Frankie turns on the television. He hits a random button to choose a channel, and Princess and the Frog comes on. He chuckles a little. “How about Tiana?” He asks his dog and scratches her ears. She doesn’t react. 

It’s near the beginning of the movie. The relaxing music soothes him as the movie starts. The dog lies with her head on his thigh, happily receiving scratchies from her new father. Her head perks up when she hears a shrill noise from the television: Tiana’s best friend in her puffy pink dress. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay baby. It’s just Charlotte.”

Charlotte. Her ears perk up and she looks at him. “Charlotte?” He asks again, and she looks at him in confusion. “Do you like that one? How about Lottie?” No response. “Or Charlie?”

The dog pounces on him with her one front paw and licks his face. Frankie laughs happily scratching her sides. “Is that your name, pretty girl? Is your name Charlie?”

The answer, it seems, is yes.

It’s funny, Frankie thinks. Charlie is the third letter of the military alphabet, after Alpha and Beta.

Before Delta.

She would be, he realizes. She’s more important to him than his Delta Squadron guys. More important to him than the terrible things he did in the military. She comes before Delta.

And that’s how Charlie got her name. 

-

The guys finally came over to Frankie’s house on Night 9 of owning Charlie. 

All of the men are dog lovers, and Charlie takes to Benny quickly. He gives her her favorite kind of scratches: one hand behind the ear, one hand on the tummy. “Yeah, that’s a good tripod,” he teases her as he snuggles her. 

“Hey man, cut it out,” Frankie frowns and smacks his arm. “She’s insecure about it! Be nice.”

Santiago laughs. “Hey, you know what, Fish? This isn’t what I meant when I said that you should get a girl, but I’ll take it. Especially when she’s such a sweetie- oh hi, beautiful,” he coos as Charlie hops his way and licks his face. 

Frankie shakes his head. “Isn’t she a cutie?” He laughs happily as he watches his dog. “I tried posting ads for her, but no one answered. She’s such a sweetheart, potty trained and everything. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Benny grins. “And all because we asked you to get a beer and you caved and said yes.”

“What the hell do you mean caved, Ben? I get beers with you two fuckers three times a week,” he laughs and shakes his head. 

He’s been home alone with her all week, but he hasn’t felt as anxious as he normally does. Her companionship is all he needs, the way she snuggles up tight against him, the way her meal schedule motivates him to eat more. He has a purpose now. 

After the initial excitement, Charlie finds her place sitting at her dad’s feet, panting happily and looking around the room. “She fits in well,” Will nods and leans over as he scratches her head. “She’s the newest member of our group, I suppose.”

“She’s much less work than Fish. Maybe we replace him with her,” Santiago teases and Frankie flips him off, chuckling softly. 

This was a pattern that came to be known as the newly named C Night in Frankie’s head. These are the nights where they order a pizza or takeout and hang out in Frankie’s living room with Charlie. She’s the entertainer of the group, giving the men each some individual snuggles and wandering around the room. She’s funny, flopping onto her back at a human’s feet so that she can get tummy rubs, spending an absurd amount of time sniffing one specific spot on one man’s jeans. They all adore her. 

Life improves for Frankie when he has Charlie. He works shorter hours, spends time brushing her fur. He sleeps at better hours and cares for himself better as a result of caring for her. 

He takes her on a jog every morning. At first, he was nervous to do it. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to pass those Special Ops fitness tests. The thing that encourages him most is that Charlie is just the same speed as him. She runs along happily on three legs at the perfect pace for Frankie to match. 

Frankie lovingly refers to her as his copilot. She loves riding in the passenger seat of his truck, letting the wind from the open windows run through her fur. She gets excited when she hears the word truck and demands that Frankie snuggle her when they’re on a long drive. She even fell asleep on his lap once, with her face resting in the curve of the steering wheel.

Charlie is Frankie’s baby, and Frankie is her favorite human. The two of them are each other’s soulmates, Frankie thinks. His baby girl, his fluffy baby, his cuddlebug. His girl. His one true love is his dog, his Charlie. 

-

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