#you get another jack EXCEPT at night- i'm on my knees

[jim-kirks-bubble-butt]

kirk yapping about fizzbin is my favorite thing

[freeabortionslol]

Injury Report (quinn hughes x actress!reader)

summary: fluff!! childhood bsfs to lovers, mutual pining, you go to a Canucks game during one of your free days to see your best friend, quinn hughes play. unfortunately the game results in a knee sprain. you and quinn go back to your house where you take care of him, and he realizes he can't spend another day without you.

warnings!! baby fever, domesticity, injury (knee sprain), makeout, kinda suggestive

a/n why is the reader always an actress? why are they always best friends to lovers? why is the team always playing the ducks? idk man leave me alone

wc: 4.4k

It was supposed to be a good night, at least a normal one. That’s what you thought as you were sitting up in the box seats with your hair curled as you smiled wide in Quinn’s jersey. Ellen and Jim were tucked away in New Jersey to see Jack and Luke, so you took it upon yourself to go see Quinn play. It was an away game in Anaheim, and you just happen to have a small home in Los Angeles, so you thought it would be the perfect time to go to a game. You and Quinn had planned this about a month out, realizing the game fell during a week where you had absolutely nothing going on. It was rare to have these moments considering you’re constantly working on new projects, but you were more than happy to spend that time with Quinn. You were cozied up in between Bella Boeser and Natalie Miller, watching as Natalie tried to tame her small children. One of her daughters, Scarlett, sat in front of you staring as you spoke with Bella about the latest fashion trends.

“Do you really have super powers?” Scarlett cut off your conversation, referring to your role in the marvel films.

“Man, I wish! I just play pretend for the movies.” You shifted your focus to the small blonde girl who was sitting in front of you. In her eyes you could see the infatuation she had for you. You let your attention slip away from the game as this little girl asked you question after question. No doubt you had serious baby fever. It was hard not to when Natalie and J.T somehow made the most well behaved children on the planet.

“Who's your favorite player on the team?”

“Ooh probably Quinn Hughes because he’s one of my best friends, but your dad is pretty cool too.”

“Um, did you know that um Mr. Quinn has um two other brothers that play hockey too?” her T’s coming out as D’s.

“Yes I did! I’m also very good friends with Jack and Luke.”

“Do you like the brothers teams better or daddy’s team with um Mr. Quinn?”

“That's tough. I can’t pick or they’ll all get mad at me, but tonight I'm a Canucks fan.”

You didn’t know at the time, but while you were in deep conversation with Scarlett, the stadium's camera panned to you. This was always bound to happen whenever you went to one of the boy’s games, considering you were an A list actress with an impressive catalog. Quinn, who had just gotten off the ice, shifted his attention to the screen above him and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you being so gentle with the little girl. He was so hopelessly in love with you and everyone knew it, except for you. Watching you being so good to the small child made his mind create the scenario of you being the mother of his own children. It’s all he’s ever wanted, but the dynamic between the two of you always made him hesitant. Worried that it might create tension between himself and his brothers. Unfortunately for him, the tv camera quickly shifted to the smile he wore while watching you. The media was constantly trying to conjure up stories about the two of you. That you were secretly dating, hookup buddies, engaged, pregnant, but the sad truth is that the two of you had always just been friends. You and Quinn weren’t the type of people to talk about each other to the media, so you always left it up to the people to keep guessing. All they knew was that the two of you grew up together, and the rest was up to their imagination. 

“Hey! That’s my kid!” J.T yelled, pulling Quinn from his trance. “And my wife!” He waved up at the screen. “Wait, why are they showing my family?” Quinn’s attention was still on the screen, focused on the woman who was now cut slightly out of frame as Scarlett climbed into Natalie’s lap.

“Look who’s next to em.” Quinn pointed to the screen causing the realization to hit J.T.

“Oh! It’s little miss Movie Star.” He nudged Quinn’s shoulder “Huggy bear’s bunny.”

“She’s not my bunny. She’s just a good friend.” Just. The word stung as it came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to be just a good friend, he wanted to be your person.

The game continued as normal now five minutes into the second period. You sipped on a terrible IPA that Bella grabbed for you, as you attempted to fix the beanie on top of your curled hair. You weren’t too nervous about tonight considering the Canucks were on a winning streak and were already leading 3-0 with Quinn scoring one goal. The feel of the night made you wish you could do this all the time. You wished to be wearing Quinn’s jersey in a way that said “He is mine. I love him and I claim myself as his.” instead of in a “I’m a famous actress who just wanted to go to a hockey game and I didn’t have anything to wear so I wore your jersey because we're friends.” way. You watched as the small children focused on the ice from the barrier in awe, casually throwing out a “Mommy, look at how fast daddy skated!” You wanted little hockey stars and movie stars to watch Quinn skate on the ice every night. You let your mind drag you to a world where you became a Canucks WAG, had your own last name on the back of your jersey, sitting back as your children cheered on their dad from the box. They would probably have the signature Hughes chestnut colored hair and striking smile. You wondered if they would want to be a hockey player like their dad, or an actress like their mom. You were kidding yourself knowing damn well that Quinn would have those kids on the ice before they could even walk. You let yourself get wrapped in the imagery of white picket fences and family dinners with Quinn, you almost missed the moment that shifted your entire night. 

You heard a loud bang and several “Oooh”s from the box, and looked down to see Quinn kneeling on the ice. He was in the neutral zone with the puck when one of the Ducks slammed their body directly into him causing him to fly over another player's back, landing legs first onto the ice. You immediately sprung from your seat, hand covering your mouth, as you made your way toward the barrier. You placed your free hand on the rail, leaning as far out as possible. Your heart began to race and your eyes filled with tears of shock as you watched the scene before you. As he tried to get up, Quinn’s face shifted from disgruntled to agonized in an instant. You felt a lump in your throat watching as he couldn’t manage to lift himself from the ground. You’d never seen him so hurt. His face tightened as he kept trying to pull himself up. You wished you were closer so you could scream at him to stop, but he was never one to throw in the towel. He was clearly trying to convince himself that he could get up and keep playing, but his body was failing. A mix of terror and sadness creeped through your entire body as the trainers pulled him from the ice. You stayed silent watching him disappear to the locker room, each breath shakier than the last. The media was going to have a field day with the shot of tears in your eyes watching him leave, but you weren’t thinking about that at this moment. Natalie walked over to you, placing a hand on your back to try and reassure you that he would be okay, as she guided you back to your seat. You couldn’t speak and frankly you didn’t want to. You didn’t even know what to say because everything you wanted to pour out was suggestive to the fact that you were really in love with him. 

The game was now 7 minutes into the third period, and Quinn has yet to emerge from the locker room. At this point, you assumed he wasn’t coming out at all. You sat back in your seat still staying silent as you anxiously watched the game in front of you. Your mind kept drifting to the sight of Quinn broken down on the ice like that. He was in so much pain and your fears heightened as you glanced back to the memory of him not being able to lift himself from the ground. You couldn’t just sit there waiting for an answer any longer, so you decided to pull out your phone in the hopes that maybe Quinn had his in hand. Your fingers shaking as you carefully typed out a message.

You: hey i dont know if you have your phone or not but im just really worried. are you okay? please please please tell me it’s not something serious?

quinny <3: Miss me on the ice? Bet the game is boring without me.

You: OMG YOURE ALIVE whats wrong? is it bad??

quinny <3: Luckily, I didn’t break anything. I sprained my knee. I'll be out for 2-4 weeks. The pain isn’t too terrible at the moment thanks to the meds they gave me.

You: meds?

quinny <3: Advil. Meet me outside the locker room after the game. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Canucks won 5-2 without Quinn on the ice. Now, you stood outside the locker room with Bella and Natalie, waiting anxiously for him to walk out. Brock came out first, giving you reassurances that Quinn would be alright before walking out with Bella, hand in hand. J.T arrived next, swooping his two daughters off the ground after greeting his wife with a victory kiss. He teased you about the way Quinn smiled at you when you were on the screen. Natalie sent him a slap to his chest and the family made their way out. It was only you left standing. All the other players had exited along with their families. You tapped your foot on the carpet below you, pulling your phone out to the time every couple seconds. Finally, your gaze caught Quinn’s as he walked out of the doors with crutches at his side and a brace on his knee. His eyes soften at the sight of you.

“Hey, Quinny.” Your tender voice trembling out at the sight of his injured knee.

“Hey Y/n/n” He says before placing his crutches against the wall to bring you into a tight embrace. You stuffed your face into the crook of his neck, getting a whiff of his designer cologne. His grip on your waist tightened at the comfortability of your touch. You moved your head to rest on the soft fabric of his hoodie as you gave him one final squeeze. As you pulled back, hands resting on his arms, you caught a slight smirk on his face.

“Nice jersey. That mine or yours?”

“Might’ve maybe stolen it last time I was at your place.” Your smile widened as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Was wondering where that went.” He grabbed the crutches from off the wall, leaving your touch. You stared at him and grew a frown at the thought of him being in pain. When he was settled you grabbed his hand, subtly rubbing against his fingers.

“I was so scared, Quinn.” You gave him an empathy filled half smile.

“Yeah, I know.” His eyebrows raised as he reached towards his back pocket to grab his phone. He quickly handed it to you so you could see the photo of you in the box with the caption “Y/n L/n in tears after Quinn Hughes’ injury” Your mouth gaped open as you underestimated how quick they would be “That’s the official NHL instagram account, by the way.” He laughed as you stared down at the phone. He quickly snatched the phone from your grip when he caught you looking through the comment section. “Nope. Not doing that.”

“Hey I was still looking.” You protested, crossing your arms.

“No, because when you read the comments you get all sad, and then you cry, and then I have to comfort you.”

“You don’t like comforting me?” You tilted your head to the side with a fake frown.

“That’s not what I meant. I would just much rather hang out with the happy version of you.” He gave you a soft smile as he squeezed your hand. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but I was promised a bed tonight.”

“Alright then” You laughed and turned your body towards the exit “Onward we go captain!” Quinn’s hand left yours as the two of you exited the arena

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at your small, cozy home in LA you quickly raced to the door to hold it open for Quinn. Faint noises from the city rang through your ears as he slowly pulled himself towards the door in silence. You couldn’t help but frown at the state he was currently in. You shut the door behind him, taking in the scent of your fresh linen candle. You walked over to the back porch to crack it lightly, allowing the fresh California air to fill the small home. You turned around to find Quinn making his way to the kitchen.

“No no no.” You quickly walked to him and grabbed his shoulders to lead him to the couch. “You need to rest.”

“Y/n I’m fine, seriously.” He protested as you pushed him closer to the cushions. He took his spot sitting on the couch, placing the crutches on the ground as you stared at him on your feet.

“Let me take care of you, please.” His gaze shifted towards the back porch. “Do you want food?” Your hands on your hips as you gave him a stern look. He sighed as his eyes softened, looking back at you accepting defeat. 

“What do you have?” He shifted his position to where he was laying on his side to face you, kicking off his shoes.

“Frozen pizza?” You asked quietly, brushing his hair back with your fingers. He leaned into your touch, nudging his head closer to your hand.

“Sounds good to me.” He gave you a soft smile, watching as you removed your hand from his hair walking towards the kitchen. He picked the remote from off the coffee table, his gaze still centered on you, as you reached for the pizza in the fridge. He laughed quietly to himself watching you prepare him food in his jersey. He wanted this to be every night for him, coming home to see your face after a bad game. He admired the way your highlighter beamed off your cheekbones from the soft glow of the sink light. You began preheating the oven while he turned his focus to the tv in front of him. Quickly turning on The Office, knowing you’d seen it a million times, so you would be okay with having conversations with him during the show. You made your way back to the couch, stopping at your tracks in front of him, giving him a good stare while the TV played softly in the background.

“Can I help you?” He laughed watching you stand directly in front of him.

“Do you have a shirt I can wear?” You asked, squinting your eyes at him.

“This is your house. I know you have your own shirt.” He smiled looking up at you.

“Not any comfy ones! All my good clothes are in New York. You know I'm never here.” You huffed out crossing your arms. Quinn let his head hang in defeat, pointing at the bag towards the door. He moved his head to prop on the arm of the couch to watch you walk to his bag. He stared with a soft smile as you unzipped the bag, finding his white tee with a blue Canucks logo in the top corner. It was one of his favorites and he knew he wasn’t getting back. He admired your figure as you brought the shirt to your chest to see how it would fit you. What he didn’t expect you to do, was rip off your jersey right there at the entryway. The sight of you in only a bra and leggings made his heart drop and his face pink. He quickly turned his attention back to the TV, propping his head up with his hand. He glanced at you in his peripheral vision, trying his hardest not to look. Were you doing this on purpose? He didn’t know, but if you were, it was killing him. He glanced as you pulled the shirt over your head, pulling your leggings off to leave yourself in only your underwear. You decided that since the shirt cut just above your knees, there was no need to put in a pair of shorts. You left your clothes on the floor and made your way back to the couch where Quinn was sitting. His face flushed as he stared at the screen in front of him. You took your spot on the other end of the couch, lying down and letting your legs tangle in his. Your eyes were locked on the TV, but Quinn was only watching you. Admiring the way you looked, the way his heart dropped every time you shuffled your legs, and thinking back on the sight of you half naked in front of him. The two of you stayed in this spot for a while, with you getting up to put the pizza in the oven, and then again to get it out. As you walked back to him with two plates in hand, his mind was only on the fact that you had no pants on under his T-shirt so casually in front of him. 

“Thanks, Movie Star.” He grinned wide as you handed him the plate. The two of you sat up, close to each other but not touching, as you ate. “Seriously, I mean. For taking care of me.” He nudged your shoulder, as you leaned into his touch letting your head fall to his bicep.

“Anything for you, Quinny.” He laughed at your comment as you took another bite of your pizza. The two of you sat in silence, finishing every last bite of your pizza. Well, you ate it up to the crust and Quinn stole the leftovers from off your plate. When you both finished, you brought both plates to the kitchen to set them down in the sink. Quinn shifted his position back to lying down as you returned empty handed. So very naturally, you made your way back to the living room, lying down in between him and the back of the couch. You rested your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He maneuvered himself so he was able to place his arm around your back. You and Quinn had been in this position before, it was normal for you to cuddle up with each other when you watched TV. Tonight however, things felt different. Like there was a new found spark between the two of you. Quinn felt his nerves tense up in a way they had never before as you played with the bottom of his hoodie, your fingers slightly brushing against his bare skin. You could feel his heart beating against your ear which was always bound to make your body relax against him. You shifted the attention of your fingers from his hoodie down to his knee. Your touch grazed over the brace, a feeling of pity washed over you.

“Does it hurt?” You asked quietly, your eyes never leaving his knee.

“No. It’s not too bad. I’ve dealt with worse.” He let out a soft chuckle. “What’s gonna get me is the fact that I can’t play, but i’d like to distract myself from that right now.” He took your hand in his, moving from the brace back up to his side. Your thumb rubbed the soft fabric of his hoodie back and forth as you took in the scent of his laundry detergent. His hand lightly tracing up and down your back while the two of you watched the TV. You melted into his touch, having to fight the urge to keep your eyes open as he tickled your back in such a comfortable way. You moved yourself slightly, to where you were now lying on his shoulder. Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, his beard subtly scratching your forehead as he tightened his hold on you, bringing you closer to his body. 

“I love you, Quinn.” you murmured softly.

“I love you too.” He nuzzled his head in closer to yours. It made you sad, but it shouldn’t. He loves you, but he doesn’t love you in the way that you want him to. You carefully played with the strings of his hoodie as he absentmindedly leaned into your touch further. The two of you let the show play, not saying a word to each other. Just appreciating the peaceful moment. It caused Quinn to realize that he couldn’t play pretend anymore. He couldn’t keep acting like there was nothing between the two of you, because there most definitely was. He knew he wanted to marry you, have children with you, see your beautiful face at every Canucks game, and have every night be exactly like this. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and he wanted the rest of his life to start now.

“Are you asleep?” He asked quietly, part of him hoping you were.

“Almost.” You nuzzled deeper into his neck

“Well, wake up. I got some things I want to tell you.” His voice was shaky, knowing that he was about to indulge in his childhood fantasies, or ruin a 15 year long friendship. You shifted yourself up looking down at him. Your hands on either side of his body.

“What’s on your mind Quinnifer?” You asked innocently, blissfully unaware of what was about to come. Quinn let out a long sigh, throwing his head back before looking back at you. Seeing you in this light, in his t-shirt, you looked more beautiful than any other woman he’s ever seen. He thought for a moment about saying nevermind, but he was already locked in to his plan at this point.

“Do you remember that time we both went to that gala in New York two years ago?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head, still not understanding the situation.

“We went separately. Each of us dateless.” you laughed, making his face blush at the sound. “I walked into the room which was so crowded. Mostly with women, and Brock was teasing me asking which one I was gonna bring home that night.” He took your hand in his as you crinkled your nose. “But my eyes were only searching for you in the sea full of people, and when I finally found you standing by the bar in your silky navy blue dress, I thought none of these women compare.” Your face quickly turned red, your heart beating fast as you realized what he was getting at. “You were the most beautiful woman in the entire room. I stared at you for as long as I could before you caught me and ran over. You basically leapt into my arms and said…”

“Are you here with a date? Cool. Me neither. You’re my date now.” You finished his sentence, letting out a small nervous laugh.

“Let me finish!” He scolded with a smile. “When you placed your hand in the crook of my arm, that was the moment I knew I was in love with you.” Your face grew a shocked expression. Butterflies swarmed throughout your stomach, not expecting him to be this direct. You also had no idea that he felt this way, and it was the most blissful surprise you’ve ever received.

“Quinn, I-” you started but he quickly cut you off.

“Y/n, I wanna be your person.” A small smile grew across your face. “I don’t want to be ‘best friend Quinn’ anymore. I wanna be ‘boyfriend Quinn’. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm sorry if this is weird o-or if it makes you uncomfortable, but it’s the truth.” You cupped his face, hinting at his nervousness. “I just love you so much, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t. It actually pains me to walk around telling people that I'm just your friend.” You bit your lip, smile growing wider. “Oh and by the way, you're an asshole for taking your shirt off in front of me like that.” Your mouth gaped open and you started laughing. “Do you know how hard it was not to look?” His voice grew from anxious to relieved at your reaction to his speech. You moved in closer, now with each of your legs on either side of his body.

“Does it make me evil if I told you I did it on purpose?” You scrunch your nose. 

“Yes!” He laughed making you laugh along with him. You nervously began playing with the strings of his hoodie, his hands moving to your waist.

“Quinn, I’ve waited for you to say those words since the day you taught me how to drive the boat in eighth grade.” His smile grew wide in relief pulling you in closer. Your faces now only inches apart. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.” He said eagerly as you closed the space between the two of you. Melting into his lips immediately, the kiss was one that had clearly been held back for far too long. His hands squeezed your waist while yours ran up through his soft hair. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan at the feel of his hands moving down to your ass, a touch that you’ve wanted for so long, but could never express. You both pulled back, resting your foreheads against each other. The sound of the TV drowned out by the heavy breathing from the two of you. Quinn managed to steal one last peck from you, moving one of his hands up to cup your face.

“I love you so much, Quinn.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

[tonyspep]

~*~viva las avs~*~

A/N: litterally every hockey rpf idea that pops into my head i share with my wonderful bestie bre aka @fallinallincurls, and this is no exception. i sent it to her months ago, and here i am finally getting around to posting it, lol. basically tyson jost was never traded from the avs and is engaged to jesse compher, jt's youngest sister and nate is dating his younger sister morgan while jt is dating kacey jost, tyson's younger sister. they are all in vegas for jesse's bachelorette party and of course i wouldn't be me if ej wasn't included in this fic, too. his love interest is modeled after the actress connie britton from the shows friday night lights and nashville.

~*~bright light city gonna set my soul~*~

(gonna set my soul on fire)

parings: tyson jost and jesse compher, nathan mackinnon and morgan compher, jt compher and kacey jost and erik johnson/oc

summary: jesse, morgan and kacey are in vegas for jesse's bachlorette party and after ej's string of smart ass comments, nate along with jt and tyson end up in vegas, too and what happens after is anyone's guess

rating: t

oh, there's black jack, poker and roulette wheel

a fortune won and lost on ev'ry deal

all you need's a strong heart and nerves of steel

viva las vegas, viva las vegas

“viva las vegas” - the bruce springsteen version

Nate was determined not to let EJ win.

If there was one thing the older man had been able to do since they met, it was being able to get under Nate's skin. Even when they were separated by a few hundred miles with it being the middle of the off season and Nate was back in Cole Harbour and EJ was in his sprawling Hollywood Hills home.

His jaw ticked as he saw another comment from @bighorny under Morgan's latest post.

@stayincomphy more like stayin' hot hot hot

And of course he tagged him in it, telling him to keep an eye on his girl.

Morgan was in Vegas celebrating Jesse's bachelorette party. This last Christmas the Comphers had rented a cabin in Vermont for the holiday and of course Tyson, Laura and Kacey had been invited along with Nate and his parents and his sister Sarah and her husband, and not even a day into the trip, Tyson got down on one knee and asked Jesse to marry him.

Sometimes Nate still feels like his ears haven't recovered from Morgan and Kacey's squeals and shrieks as they practically tackled the youngest Compher once Tyson had slid the ring on her finger.

He knows EJ is doing this to get a rise out of him, which is his favorite thing to do that doesn't involve horses or wine, but this time it's not going to work.

Morgan would never do anything and he's stupid for even thinking it.

Josty was completely chill about Jesse having her bachelorette there and JT told Kacey to have fun, which is what he told Morgan to do too. Though he did make sure his favorite white bikini stayed behind. No one was allowed to see her wear that but him.

Seeing her laying on a lounger chair at the Aria's pool, classic blue and white striped one piece with cut outs on the sides made him close the app. If he kept looking, he'd miss her more than he already did and she'd barely been gone two days. He needed to take his mind off of all this. Just as he was about to grab Cox's leash, his phone pinged and of course it was a text from EJ.

[horseboy] you dogg you can't seriously be sitting at home in bumfuck canada while your girl's living it up in lost wages for shame nathaniel for shame

[dogg] fuck you johnson. you're just trying to get a rise out of me and it's not going to work this time. go pet a horse or stomp grapes or clean your dentures old man

[horseboy] me? try to get a rise out of you? Impossible

[dogg] i'm taking cox for a run and shutting off my phone. you'll be talking to the ether or whatever

[horseboy] the dogg doth bark too much as the saying goes. give the man of the house some head pats and ear scratches from his favorite hooman would ya? you have fun trying not to think about your girl living it up and looking so good doing it

Taking Cox for runs is how Nate always cleared his head when things were waying on his mind. When Morgan was with him they would meditate or do yoga, which always ended with him grabbing her when she got into more advanced poses and they would become a tangle of various limbs, laughing as he practically smothered her with his bigger frame.

He swore he wouldn't let EJ win, but as he increased his speed while running, he knew he was defeating the purpose of clearing his head, but all he could think about was Morgan in Vegas. Suddenly, he was back home and he was booking a flight. Logically he knew Morgan loved him and would never stray and he tried to think about all the things that sucked about Vegas like the fucking Golden Knights, their stupid castle in their arena, their dumb goal song, glow in the dark jerseys, the sun and how he had to wear SPF30 or he'd turn into a lobster, hangovers and gambling but none of it worked.

All he could think about was how none of the losers who were hanging out at the hotel pool and in the casino would see Morgan with Jesse and Kacey and not know she was taken. Jesse had the cute diamond Josty bought last year and was wearing that bright pink sash that said Bachelorette and a little crown in every post she made.

Guys weren't exactly known for taking no for an answer, but if he was there they wouldn't have a choice.

Of course he booked tickets for Josty and JT, too. He couldn't exactly show up alone. That was creepy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tyson knew he wasn't supposed to tell Jesse. Nate made that explicitly clear and yeah Nate outweighed him by like forty to fifty pounds and was taller than him, too and was generally scary when he wanted to be, but Nate wasn't scarier than Jesse.

Also, how were they supposed to start their married life together if he was kind of lying to her when they were engaged? Wasn't that bad luck or something? Whether it was or not, he wasn't going to risk it, so he sent her a quick text about Nate buying him and JT tickets to Vegas and how they would be there around six local time.

Jesse texted him a teasing taunt that said does this mean i get to crash your bachelor party? i've always wanted to go to a strip club

Tyson flushed just thinking about it. While Landy's bachelor party had gone completely off the rails, somehow, they had not ended up at a strip club and the truth was he didn't really want to go to one for his, but maybe...

“Earth to Josty. Come in Josty.” Suddenly JT's hadn was right in front of his face and he remembered where he was. O'Hare airport waiting with JT for Nate's flight from Dartmouth to land, os they could board the flight for Vegas together.

“You told Jesse, huh?” There was a knowing smile on his best friend's face. “Duh,” Tyson's tone was unapologetic. “It's bad luck to lie before you get married. It's like breaking a mirror or walking under a ladder or whatever. I'm not risking it.”

“That's such bullshit,” JT laughs, shaking his head. “You figured as soon as she saw us, she'd kick your ass eve if this was all Nate's idea. You are so whipped, man.”

“Don't call me whipped. You're just as whipped!” Tyson insists. “You told Kacey we were coming, too!”

“Because we have an open line of communication like adults. I wasn't afraid she'd kick my ass if I didn't tell her. It's a whole different thing than what happened with you and Jesse.”

“Okay, that is bullshit. An open line of communication? You communicate through memes! I've seen your text thread! Like, adults, too, really Coms? You drink out of Kacey's old Buzz Lightyear glass hwen you stay over at my Mom's and both of you drink milk straight from the carton. If anyone's the adult, it's me! I'm getting married! I'm one step away from a joint bank account and dividing my portfolio or whatever Landy talks about!”

“I can't take the two of you anywhere,” Nate sighs, piniching the bridge of his nose when he finds JT and Tyson shoving at each other and laughing after he picked up his bags. “He started it!” They said at the same time only making themselves laugh harder than they were already.

“I should've brought Landy to keep the two of you in line.” Nate grumbled as they made their way toward the gate.

“Good afternoon everyone,” A beautiful strawberry blonde in the standard flight attendant unifrom is standing at the front of the plane. Her eyes are a warm shade of glittering hazel and her smile is blinding but genuine. “My name is Kylie and I'll be your head flight attendant on our flight from beautiful Chicago, Illinois to exciting Las Vegas, Nevada. Please be seated while I perform the in-flight demonstration and we'll begin serving drinks and food once we take off in about twenty minutes.”

Before the call to switch to airplane mode comes over the speakers, Nate sees a text from Morgan come through.

[Red] you have some explaining to do, nate

The disappointment behind her text is obvious and Nate knows he can't blame JT and Tyson for this, but it doesn't stop him from glaring at his friends and saying, “You two really couldn't keep your mouths shut?”

JT's not about to fight with one of his Alternates but Nate is also the guy who's dating his younger sister, and right now he isn't one of his Alternates, he's the guy who's dating his sister.

“This was your idea,” He reminds him, keeping his voice cool. “We're,” He points to himself and Tyson. “On this plane because EJ got under your skin. Don't forget that, Nate. If Morgan's mad or disappointed, you have to deal with that. Don't take it out on me and Tys.”

Nate knows JT is right. He can feel the tips of his ears go red from being sheepish. He should be better than this.

“Sorry, man. You're right.” He admits and JT nods. “Of course I am.” He says smugly and Nate rolls his eyes, pulling out his eye mask from his carry on bag. He pays for the in-flight WI-Fi and turns on the meditation app Morgan found for him and he lets his mind and body relax before they land.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With everyone settled and the food and drinks taken care of, Kylie is in the galley laughing at the younger flight attendants giggling over their phones. She checks her messages, breathing the familiar sigh of relief when she finds texts from her son and daughter. Marcus was a sophomore at the University of Virginia in Charlottesville on a lacrosse scholarship while Bethany was taking a gap year and backpacking through Europe with her two best friends. Next year she was going to UC Irvine to study astronomy.

She couldn't help but think her babies had grown up too dam fast.

Being a single mom hadn't been easy, but the three of them had made it through after her marriage with their dad had fallen a part.

“Oh my God Kylie,” Julie was twenty two and pettie with dark black hair and stunning green eyes. “The rich guy in first class was totally checking you out.”

“The silver fox?” Brandy, who had golden blonde hair and had recenlty gotten married was twenty seven as of last May, was the other flight attendant with them and her curiosity was piqued. Julie nodded eagerly, practically licking her lips while Kylie laughed and said, “Settle down now. We're not doing that. This is my job. I'm here to work. Not hook up or whatever you kids call it these days.”

“Is it because you finally gave your number to that super hot hockey player who's always flirting with you?” Julie's tone was hopeful. “The one who doesn't have his three front teeth? And is, like, ginormous? He's got the pretty blue eyes and the dimples, too, right?” Brandy questions. “Yes,” Julie practically gushes, clutching her chest as she swoons while Kylie sighs as she shakes her head.

“You two need to stop it. He is way too young for me. Now get back out there with your carts. We're on the clock and we are not being paid to gossip about something that is never going to happen.”

Erik Johnson, the ginormous hockey player with the pretty blue eyes and missing three fron teeth, was a frequent flier on this specific airline when he wasn't traveling professionally with the Avalanche. He was everything Brandy described and so much more. From the boyish flop of his unstyled blonde hair ot the ever present mischievous glint in his cornflower blue eyes to the way every shirt – button down, polo, sweater (if there was a chill) or t-shirt – stretched snugly over his obviously very firm chest to his flirtatious nature, he was hard to resist.

But Kylie had two college age children and he was in his thirties. Also, given their careers they would hardly ever be in the same place.

Not to mention his teammates could pass for any of Marcus's friends and she did not want to think about team events and games where she would be surrounded by women who were barely older than her own daughter.

Looking never hurt and it was hard not to enjoy the flirting. It was nice to know a man like Erik found her attractive.

Laughing to herself, Kylie put on an easy smile as she went back out to the cabin to see if the passengers needed anything.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In California, EJ couldn't help but think of a certain gorgeous strawberry blonde flight attendant.

At first he thought Kylie's apprehension had to do with the missing teeth. Even though plenty of women told him they thought he looked better without his fakes, some were unsettled at first.

Especially if they didn't know he played hockey.

But he learned quickly it had more to do with his age. Being one of the older players on the team he never gave his age much thought when it came to dating. He generally wouldn't date a woman who was in her early twenties, but dating someone older had never crossed his mind until he met Kylie on a flight to Del Mar race track in Pasenda a year and a half ago. And honestly he didn't see anything wrong with dating a woman in her forties.

He knew she was at least 45 or 46, but that didn't really mean anything. Age was just a number after all.

Laying out by his pool surrounded by his pack, the affectionate name he gave his four dogs, he couldn't stop his mind from staying on Kylie.

It had been a long time since he had spent so much time thinking of just one woman. He wasn't ashamed of his bachelor status. There wasn't much he was ashamed of, really. The whole shebang of a wife, kids and a white pickett fence wasn't where he wanted to be. He liked living his life; going to Del Mar on a whim, maybe Hawaii, slipping his number to a pretty girl at a bar etc.

Fucking Landy he curses to himself.

The “don't you get lonely” talk was coming on stronger and stronger from his best friend. While EJ took pleasure in getting under Nate's skin (it was just too easy), Gabe was a whole different animal. He would get all concerned and go into full helpful Disney Prince mode with those big stupid crystal blue eyes of his and his big ass forehead would wrinkle in a way that was, somehow, still handsome and EJ hated it because it always worked and next thing he knew, he was spilling his guts.

As he began to scroll through Instagram, his phone pinged. Julie was a flight attendant Kylie always worked with. Way too young for him but pretty in an objective way and she was funny, too. They would text back and forth and if he ended up on a flight it was quite the coincidence.

Apparently she, Brandy and Kylie were laying over in Vegas before flying to Denver. He didn't need to be back in Denver for a few more weeks to start seriously training buuuuuuut Kylie didn't need to know that.

And Vegas was nice this time of year.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

How the girls were drunk already Nate didn't know.

They squealed when they saw them in the lobby at Aria and smelled pretty like they always did but the alcohol was still obvious.

If Morgan wasn't drunk she wouldn't have launched herself at him and started kissing him everywhere. She would've been mad, which is what he expected. Steadying her in his arms, she hiccuped and said, sincerely, “I missed you, Natey. You shouldn't be here, but I'm so happy you are.”

Nate couldn't stop himself from smiling. He had seen Morgan this drunk once. At the Dustin Lynch concert they all went to after winning The Cup last year. She was very clingy, basically, plastered to his back the entire night, her arms around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her freckles, somehow, stood out more like the copper and gold of her hazel eyes and her skin was flushed the warmest shade of pink and she couldn't stop laughing.

He loved everything about her, but seeing her like this was so rare he belived he liked this Morgan best of all. Then she'd go and something else and that Morgan would become his favorite and so on and so on.

“I missed you, too,” He finally said and she beams back at him and he wonders how he lived so long without her.

“Ugh,” JT groans bringing Nate back into the scene and there's Tyson and Jesse kissing like he just got back from war. Kacey laughs from inside JT's arms that are wrapped around her slim frame and teases her boyfriend, saying, “What, you don't like watching Tys try to see if his tongue can find Jesse's tonsils?”

“I need a drink,” The eldest Compher sighs with a resigning shake of his head. That breaks Tyson and Jesse apart and she giggles, “More drinks! Yes! Tha's what we need! You're so smart Joey!”

More drinks is defintely not what they need but Nate knows stopping them is pointless.

After checking into the suite the girls rented, they're piling out of Aria's front doors and onto Las Vegas Boulevard and none of them have a clue what the hot, sticky Vegas summer night will bring.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Layovers weren't something Kylie looked forward to. Though it was nice to not have to jump back onto another flight after only an hour or so after the passengers had departed and the plane was cleaned.

She let Julie and Brandy run off to cruise The Strip. They were responisble enough not to get into too much trouble with Brandy being married now, but oh to be young again she thought with a wry smile as he let herself indulge in a glass of crisp Pinot Grigio.

As she sipped at the wonderful taste of her favorite wine, an all too familiar voice reached her ears amongst the sounds of the dealers, slots and music thumping through the casino's speakers.

“Now, what's a pretty lady like yourself doing in a place like this all by your lonesome?”

A shiver only Erik could inspire races up her spine and Kylie's breath catches at the sight of the handsome, bulit hockey player. His hair's soft, falling just so across his forehead, those cornflower blue eyes twinkle with mischief and the promise of a good time. His dimples make her knees weak and if she wasn't sitting the sight of his unbuttoned pink linen shirt would have had them buckling underneath her. The sleeves are rolled up, of course, to reveal the tan skin of his thick vein covered forearms. His cologne is crisp and woodsy, a deep warm smell that makes her want to bury her face in his neck to breathe it in even deeper.

Taking another sip of her wine, she can't help the smile that crosses her lips. “You just happened to be in the neighborhood or something?”

Erik's eyes move shamelessly over her figure, leaving nothing but heat in their wake and Kylie is going to need something stronger than white wine if she's going to keep him at arm's length like she should.

He leans in, his lips hovering just above her ear, his breath warm as he says, his voice low and husky, making heat pool in her belly, “Something like that.”

“Erik...” She sighs, shaking her head, but there's a fondness in her tone, sparking hope for the Minnesotan. “I'm not getting down on one knee,” Erik laughs covering her her slender hand with his larger one. “A drink is hardly a proposal.”

“You flew all the way to Vegas from your house in California because Julie told you we had a layover here. I am a divorced mother of two grown children. One is in college and the other will be starting college next year. I do not have time for games.”

“That's fine because who said I was playing games? A flight from LA to Vegas is nothing. It's barely two hours. One drink and one dance won't hurt.”

The thought of feeling Erik's hard body pressed against her, his strong hands holding her hips as they swayed is almost too much to bear. He's far too good to be true. A handsome thirty something athlete interested in her, making her feel things she hasn't felt in so long, having the walls she built up starting to crumble, she almost doesn't know what to do.

Eyeing him critcally, Kylie huffs and holds up her index finger. “One dance and one drink, and that's it. Don't try to charm your way into antoher drink and another dance. It won't work.”

“We'll see.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

i know your motives and you know mine

the ones that love me, i tend to leave behind

if you know about me and choose to stay

then take this pleasure and take it with the pain

“love me harder” - by ariana grande and the weekend

Alcohol makes things increasingly clearer for Nate.

The three beers plus the copious amount of shots at Drais` in the Cosmo help confirm what he's known since he met Morgan, he can't live without her.

He thinks the DJ is playing that one song between Ariana Grande and The Weekend, but it's hard to be sure when all he's thinking about is Morgan.

She's pressed right up against him, moving her hips to the beat of the song and dancing has never been his forte, but she's always been able to pull him onto the floor without much protest from him. Even before they were together she could get him to dance.

He can feel her hips through the silk of the tiny slip dress she's wearing. It's burgundy and brings out the different shades of carmel and copper in her hazel eyes. One of the straps has fallen off her shoulder, the thin stripped is wrapped around her bicep and he can see the cluster of freckles he memorized after their first night together. Her red hair frames her face perfectly, her cheeks are flushed prettily from the alcohol and the dancing, her alabaster skin the color of a perfectly ripe peach now.

She stops grinding against him and he lets out a strangled groan, because, why??????

Then she drapes her arms around his neck, the chunky heels of her shoes bring her closer to his height and she rests her head on his shoulder and this he can do, sway and hold her close so he can smell the coconut of her shampoo and the peonies of her perfume.

She murmurs the lyrics to the song, “Cause if you want to keep me, you gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, got to love me harder. And if you really need me, you gotta, gotta, gotta, gotta, go to love me harder.”

Sober nate would not do this. Sober Nate would be mortified. But Nate is not sober.

Nate has had three beers and who knows how many shots because the bartender saw Jesse's Bachelorette sash and crown thing and they wouldn't stop pouring Fireball? Jager? Crown? Nate can't honestly remember. What he does remember is hearing Morgan giggle and seeing her look at him, happy and dopey expression on her beautiful face as she draped herself all over him, which meant he was knocking back the shots as fast as he could.

So again, sober Nate would not do this, but Nate – to reiterate – was not sober.

“Morgan Marie Compher,” He says with all the conviction he can muster as they continue to sway. “I wanna marry you.”

“Natey...” Her voice is soft and hopeful as she touches his cheek. She bites her lip and Nate groans, it's so hot. “You really do?” She looks at him through her velvet lashes and he answers her. “Hell yeah, I really do.”

And that's how they find themselves her; The Little White Wedding Chapel.

Morgan squealed and launched herself at him, Nate somehow having retained enough of his quick reflexes to catch her slim frame. How they broke apart from their steamy makeout, their hands nearly tearing at their clothes, to find JT, Kacey, Jesse and Tyson they don't know.

They don't know how they got to The Little White Wedding Chapel, really. But they're there standing in front of an Elvis impersonator, JT and Tyson standing next to Nate and Jesse and Kacey next to Morgan.

“Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here to join...” Elvis begins and Jesse hiccups and slurs, “Waaaaaait, a second! Mo Mo doesn't have a veil. She needs a veil.”

“Uh-huh,” Kacey agrees nodding eagearly. “Pause,” She hiccups, making the sign for timeout. The girls run off to the bridal shop in the chapel, giggling and stumbling as they grab Morgan and pull her along with them. When they come back five minutes later, Nate's breath catches.

His heart skips a beat and he breathes out, “Wow,” sounding mesmerized as Morgan walks toward him again, this time a soft tulle veil covering her face. It's fastened to a sparkling tiara and even in her burgundy slip dress and chunky heels, an outfit made for clubbing, she looks like a princess.

To Morgan as she stands across from Nate in his tight ftting black polo and matching slacks while the silver Tag Huer watch she got him on his birthday last year gleams on his right wrist, he looks like Prince Charming to her. He looks like the man she's been waiting for her whole life.

Elvis starts again. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here to watch this hunk-a-hunk of burnin' love join this little mama in holy matrimony...”

“I do,” Nate murmurs, feeling more certain of this – being with Morgan forever – than he has about anything.

“With the power vested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Nate lifts Morgan's veil and kisses her with all the tenderness and love he ever has. JT and Tyson whistle while Kacey and Jesse yell, “Get it, girl!”

The six of them pour out of the chapel under a flurry of rice and rose petals, laughing and hollering as Nate and Morgan kiss again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

but you're just so cool

run your hands through your hair

absent mindedly makin' me want you

and i don't know how it gets better than this

you take my hand and drag me head first

fearless

and i don't know why

but with you i'd dance in a storm

in my best dress

fearless

“fearless” - by taylor swift (taylor's version)

“I don't want to get married, Joseph,” Kacey says softly and JT blinks, his brain is workign overtime between all the shots and the beer and the champagne they all shared after Nate and Morgan's impromptu wedding. “Okay,” He manages, staring at his girlfriend curiously.

They're walking around Las Vegas Boulevard, not having a particular destination in mind and they let the others walk up ahead.

Kacey had caught him completely by surprise. He never expected to find himself falling for her while Tyson and Nate were falling for his sisters. One day she was Tyson's baby sister who teased and then suddenly she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

She was Jost, then she became Kacey and after that he was calling her Kace and then she had a drawer full of clothes at his place and he was calling her baby before he could blink.

Marriage was a long way away. She was finishing up her degree and he knew how important that was, that she graduate and have a job lined up before she moved to Denver. He admired that about her, how she knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to go after it.

“I love you,” Her soft voice brings him back and he smiles down at her. “Me too, Kace,” He assures, brushing back a loose curl from her untamed tangle of curls he loves to run his fingers through. “Wanna show you how much I do, JT,” She murmurs into his chest.

He laughs and kisses the crown of her head and a neon sign catches his eye. He's just drunk enough to have the courage to do this. If he were sober, he wouldn't even think of doing this.

He tilts her chin upwards and bends, and they kiss softly, their tongues meeting and after breaking apart, he's pulling her toward the purple neon sighn that says Hart and Huntington Tattoo Company.

Kacey giggles as she unbuttons her tight pleather pants and the tattoo artist eyes her suspcioulsy as she lays down, revealing the skin of her slim hip. She's more or less tipsy now. It's been hours since the margirtas and the endless shots and the two swigs of champagne.

“I'm basically sober. Scout's honor.” Her Girl Guide's salute is clumsy and does not inspire confidence in the severe looking tatted up raven haired female tattoo artist. “I love him,” The young Canadian says, her soft tone radiating honesty and the older woman's blood red lips twitch.

In her green eyes, however, is understanding. “The letters JT with the number 37 hanging from the end of the J, yeah?”

Kacey knows the smile on her face is dreamy as she meets JT's familiar chocolate gaze across from hers and she answers, “Yes,”

While her hip is being tattooed, JT's tight fitting shirt has been discarded revealing his toned chest and six pack. Across his right pec her name and number for volleyball are being inked into his skin. He wrote her name down, so the tattoist could mimic his own handwriting and at the end of the “y” in her name he added, the number 10.

Most tattoo artists tried to talk couples out of doing stuff like this. Especially if they weren't married or they were far from sober. But the husband and wife who were tattooing the young couple that had stumbled in, had a feeling they were the real deal.

“That's forever, baby,” Jenny mused as her husband Ronnie wrapped his burly arm around wher waist as JT and Kacey left the shop, hand in hand, matching besotted smiles on their faces. “Fuck yeah it is,” Ronnie's gruff voice agreed.

i'm not usually this way but

you pull me in and i'm a little more free

it's the first kiss, i'ts falwless, it's really something, it's

fearless

oh, yeah

cause i don't know how it gets better than this

you take my hand and drag me head first

fearless

and i don't know why

but with you i'd dance in a storm

in my best dress

fearless

“fearless” by taylor swift (taylor's version)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

and i know that it must be the woman in you

that brings out the man in me

i know that i can't help myself

you're all that my eyes can see

“feels like the first time” - by foreigner

What in the world have I got myself into Kylie thinks as she and Erik sway to the familiar guitar and keyboards to the classic Foreigner song “Feels Like The First Time.” It may have been only one drink, but it's been several dances to several songs.

Her hips fit perfectly inside his large, broad plams and the crown of her strawberry blonde hair slides right under his chin. Her body fits against his like they're two pieces of a puzzle.

This is too much and she shouldn't dare, but before her rational side can take hold,; she lets him tilt her head toward his and lets his lips draw hers into a kiss.

It's been too long since she's felt like this; completely overwhelmed by someone.

Erik can't remember the last time he's wanted to kiss someone so badly. The chase had always been the best part of the song and dance. He had never really wanted to catch someone until Kylie. Not because she was resisting his advances, but because he wanted to have her in his life, to share more than just his bed for a night or two.

The need to breathe is a curse because all he wants to do is keep kissing her. Their tongues met softly and they break apart, her slender hand clutching at his linen shirt while his large hand is firmly gripping her right ass cheek, keeping her pressed against him as they catch their breath.

“This is so very bad,” Kylie laughs in disbelief.

There are so many reasons why. Number one is being how she's three years shy of being fifty and as she triest to back out of his grip, he tightens his hold. “No way,” His voice is low and deep, making her knees buckle. “You're not running away after kissing me like that,”

“Erik,” She pleads for him to understand this will never work or for him to convince her that it will, she's not sure what she wants more.

“Here's the problem,” Erik murmurs, his other hand tracing the slim curves of her left side before he brings that hand to cup her beautifully formed high cheekbone, so it's impossible to look away from him. “It's been so long since anyone's told you how beautiful you are, how funny. So long since anyone's wanted you, which is a damn shame,” Every velvet word makes Kylie shudder and through the silk of her blouse she can feel her nipples peaking and God he's going to be the death of her.

“Which means all you can think to do is run. Well, I'm telling you that you're beautiful and you're funny and that I want you,” His nose moves up and down the curve of her neck, breathing her in before his stunning cornflower eyes bore into her cinnamon drenched hazel with such honesty and want, she has no choice but to believe him. 'I'll be on the fight back to Denver and you can decide to stop fighting this and take a chance or you can let me down easy. It's up to you, but trust me when I say, Kylie, you're beautiful and you're funny and I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you.”

The kiss he leaves her with is as soft and tender as it is passionate.

She brings her fingers to her lips, watching Erik go and she knows no man has ever made her feel like this.

Erik is offering her everything. She just has to step up and take it.

and it feels like the first time

like it never did before

feels like the first time

like we've opened up the door

feels like the first time

like it never will again, never again

“feels like the first time” - by foreigner

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

maybe i've just gotta wait

maybe this is a mistake

i'm a fool yeah

maybe i'm just a fool yeah (oh, oh)

girl what would you do, would you wanna

stay

if i were to stay

“last first kiss” - by one direction

This is not, objectively speaking, something “grown ups” who are engaged would do; have four large supreme pizzas, a sick pack of beer and an assortment of candy inside a blanket fort while they're in their underwear, but Tyson and Jesse aren't really concerned about the perception of being grown ups, they're too busy being so in love they can't even see straight.

The deep evergreen lace of her bralette and cheeky underwear against her warm alabaster skin makes Tyson's blood grow hot and thick in his veins.

While Jesse can't stop thinking about how his black boxer briefs hug his thighs.

They both laugh and snort, unaware of the door to the suite opening and how JT and Kacey are stumbling inside. Or it could be Nate and Morgan. It honestly doesn't matter. What matters is they're here together, inside their blanket fort and Jesse has the 3.5 karart diamond ring on her finger.

“Awww man,” Tyson groans, making Jesse blink as she looks at him curiously while he pouts. “Morgan and Nate got married tonight. We're engaged. Elivs was supposed to marry us. They aren't engaged. That's not how it works.”

Jesse giggles and shakes her head as she crawls toward him to sit in his lap. Her amrs wind around his neck and she presses her forhead against his, lovesick smile on her pretty face. “I don't want Elvis to marry us, Tyson,” Her voice is soft and warm, making his heart skip a beat like always. “I want a whole wedding with everyone there. I want my Dad and Joey to walk me down the aisle, to give me away. I want to wear a pretty dress and you to wear a suit.”

Tyson swallows thickly. It's so easy to imagine Jesse on a summer day in a simple white dress with a short veil and Bob – please, tyson i think you can call me bob now and not mr compher – and JT on either side of her walking toward him. Kacey and his Mom are standing with him along with Fab and Barzy and he can't breathe.

Her smile is blinding just like it is right now with only the light from the glittering hotels on the Strip filtering through the sheets of their blanket fort.

He slips her engagement ring off of her finger and she yelps, “Hey!” but he silences her with a heated kiss before she can say anything else. Their tongues tangle together sweetly, her fingers sinking into his curls as his other hand, that's not holding her ring slides up and down her back until they break apart, their lungs burning with the need to breathe.

“Give that back,” Jesse laughs, shoving at his toned chest. “My super hot fiance gave it to me.”

Tyson laughs, loud and unabashed, like always. Flicking an olive from one of the pizzas, Jesse laughs and retaliates by flicking a pepperoni at him. A mini food fight breaks out, Tyson able to catch most of the toppings she flicks at him inside his mouth. They settle and he takes a deep breath, staring deeply inot the familiar warmth of Jesse's soft brown eyes.

He grabs for her hand like he did at the cabin last Christmas and her heart pounds like it did on that crisp winter day. “Tys,” Shaky and soft, falls off her lips and he kisses her quickly before taking another deep breath.

“We're gonna get married just like you want. You're going to wear a pretty dress and I'll wear a suit and your Dad and JT are going to give you away, but I want to promise you stuff right now. Say vows or whatever,” He waves his hand and she nods, feeling her eyes getting misty. “You're my best friend, J. Life is crazy and you never know what's goin g to happen the next day, the next minute or hour, but I know if you're there, it's going to be okay. I know it's not always going to be easy. I don't know a lot, like, having life insurance or buying a house, but I know there's no one else I want to learn all that stuff with execpt you. But what I do know is life will be the most fun because it's with you. I promise, Jesse Chloe Compher, that I will love you forever even if you steal the last of the ketchup chips, forget to buy milk and still can't cook. I promise I will take care of you and won't let you get behind on Grey's Anatomy and I won't watch ahead of you on Ginny and Georgia. I want to be your last first kiss. Will you be mine?”

Jesse can't stop the smile from crossing her face. Seh can't believe she gets to spend the rest of her life with the incredibly sweet and funny and cute boy that's in front of her. He slips her ring back onto her finger and she takes a deep breath, glancing at the diamond before meeting his beautiful, big chocolate eyes.

“Tys, I promise to love you forever. I won't ever let you get down on yourself after a bad game. I will always be your biggest fan, through the ups and the downs. No matter where hockey takes you, I'll be right by your side ready to cheer you on. I can't wait to see you grow and become the best version of yourself on and off the ice. I know you'll never let me down, that if I need you, you'll be there giving me all the support and strength. We can do anything together, so bring on buying a house and figuring out life insurance. I promise,” She laughs, touching his face before leaning into kiss him quickly. “To always make you smile and laugh, to never let you stay sad for too long. I promise to learn how to make Laura's famous Nanaimo bars so you'll always have a tatse of home around. I promise to wear something cute to bed every night. Yes, Tyson Jost, I will be your last first kiss.”

The next kiss they share is longer and as passionate as ever.

When Tyson lays Jesse down amongst all the pillows and blankets, she couldn't say, but all she knows is the warmth of his body against hers. Seh arches against him and he fumbles slightly with the front clasp of her baralette and then his lips are on her skin, making her thighs rub together as his tongue circles one of her nipples. He's so good at this she wonders how she lived so long without him.

They're a tangle of limbs; panting and sweaty, their skin sticking together after they both reach their highs, foreheads pressed together and dopey smiles on their faces.

“We're married now,” Tyson says huskily and Jesse giggles. “Yeah, we are. I'm Mrs. Tyson Jost,” She murmurs. “I'm Mr. Jesse Compher.”

And that's how they fall asleep in the blanket fort in the middle of the sprawling and expensive suite at the Aria hotel. Still a little drunk but as in love as they ever have been.

i wanna be last, yeah

baby, let me be your, let me be your last first

kiss

i wanna be first, yeah

wanna be the first to take it all the way like this

“last first kiss” - by one direction

soundtrack “viva las vegas,” bruce springsteen, “feels like the first time” foreigner “love me harder” ariana grande and the weekend and “fearless” (taylor's version) taylor swift

[theviewfrommegabuildingh10]

The boy was in the hallway drinking a glass of tea

From the other end of the hallway a rhythm was generating

Another boy was sliding up the hallway

He merged perfectly with the hallway,

He merged perfectly, the mirror in the hallway

The boy looked at Johnny, Johnny wanted to run,

But the movie kept moving as planned

The boy took Johnny, he pushed him against the locker,

He drove it in, he drove it home, he drove it deep in Johnny

The boy disappeared, Johnny fell on his knees,

Started crashing his head against the locker,

Started crashing his head against the locker,

Started laughing hysterically

When suddenly Johnny gets the feeling he's being surrounded by

Horses, horses, horses, horses

Coming in in all directions

White shining, silver studs with their nose in flames,

He saw horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses, horses.

Do you know how to pony like bony maroney

Do you know how to twist, well it goes like this, it goes like this

Baby mash potato, do the alligator, do the alligator

And you twist the twister like your baby sister

I want your baby sister, give me your baby sister, dig your baby sister

Rise up on her knees, do the sweet pea, do the sweet pee pee,

Roll down on her back, got to lose control, got to lose control,

Got to lose control and then you take control,

Then you're rolled down on your back and you like it like that,

Like it like that, like it like that, like it like that,

Then you do the watusi, yeah do the watusi

Life is filled with holes, Johnny's laying there, in his sperm coffin

Angel looks down at him and says, "Oh, pretty boy,

Can't you show me nothing but surrender?"

Johnny gets up, takes off his leather jacket,

Taped to his chest there's the answer,

You got pen knives and jack knives and

Switchblades preferred, switchblades preferred

Then he cries, then he screams, saying

Life is full of pain, I'm cruisin' through my brain

And I fill my nose with snow and go Rimbaud,

Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud,

And go Johnny go, and do the watusi, oh do the watusi

There's a little place, a place called space

It's a pretty little place, it's across the tracks,

Across the tracks and the name of the place is you like it like that,

You like it like that, you like it like that, you like it like that,

And the name of the band is the

Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes,

Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes, Twistelettes

Baby calm down, better calm down,

On the night, in the eye of the forest

There's a mare black and shining with yellow hair,

I put my fingers through her silken hair and found a stair,

I didn't waste time, I just walked right up and saw that

Up there, there is a sea

Up there, there is a sea

Up there, there is a sea

The sea's the possibility

There is no land but the land (Up there is just a sea of possibilities)

There is no sea but the sea (Up there is a wall of possibilities)

There is no keeper of the key (Up there there are several walls of possibilities)

Except for one who seizes possibilities, one who seizes possibilities. (Up there)

I seize the first possibility, is the sea around me

I was standing there with my legs spread like a sailor

I felt his hand on my knee (On the screen)

And I looked at Johnny and handed him a branch of cold flame (In the heart of man)

The waves were coming in like Arabian stallions

Gradually lapping into sea horses

He picked up the blade and he pressed it against his smooth throat(The spoon)

And let it deep in (The veins)

Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities (It started hardening)

Dip in to the sea, to the sea of possibilities

I put my hand inside his cranium, oh we had such a brainiac-amour

But no more, no more, I gotta move from my mind to the area

(Go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud, go Rimbaud)

And go Johnny go and do the watusi,

Yeah do the watusi, do the watusi

Shined open, coiled snakes white and shiny twirling and encircling

Our lives are now entwined, we will fall yes we're together twining

Your nerves, your mane of the black shining horse

And my fingers all entwined in your silky hair,

I could feel it, it was the hair going through my fingers,

The hairs were like wires going through my body

I, I that's how I

That's how I

I died (At that Tower of Babel they knew what they were after)

(They knew what they were after)

(Everything on the current) Moved up

I tried to stop it, but it was too warm, too unbelievably smooth,

Like playing in the sea, in the sea of possibility, the possibility

Was a blade, a shiny blade, I hold the key to the sea of possibilities

There's no land, but the land

Looked at my hands, and there's a red stream

That went streaming through the sands like fingers,

Like arteries, like fingers

He lay, pressing it against his throat (Your eyes)

He opened his throat (Your eyes)

His vocal chords started shooting like (of a horse) mad pituitary glands

The scream he made (and my heart) was so high (my heart) pitched that nobody heard,

No one heard that cry,

No one heard (Johnny) the butterfly flapping in his throat,

Nobody heard, he was on that bed, it was like a sea of jelly,

And so he seized the first (His vocal chords shot up)

It was a black tube, he felt himself disintegrate (There is nothing happening at all)

And go inside the black tube, so when he looked out into the steep

Saw this sweet young thing (Fender one)

Humping on the parking meter, leaning on the parking meter

In the sheets

There was a man

Dancing around

To the simple

Rock & roll

Song

- Patti Smith

Land

[fruitydiaz-archived]

i actually think about it a lot, like. the conversation of eddie not *needing* buck around anymore post-recovery. knowing them, it probably happened in the kitchen. kitchens are easy for them, i think. i'm not 100% convinced that kitchens aren't liminal spaces because sometimes, if you catch them in the right moment, they're detached from the rest of reality. so i think they were in the kitchen. it was probably at night. probably long since after chris went off to bed but not so long after that the smell of dinner (buck cooked) doesn't still linger in the air. and they're sitting on the couch or at the table, and they're talking around so many things.... talking around how comfortable it is that buck is here with them..... talking around how, when buck told chris to get ready for bed, he listened..... talking around how, neither of them have never said it, but they both feel safer with the other close by. not 100% safe, but like they can breathe a little easier. also talking around the fact that they know this is going to end soon. except eddie's about to burst that particular bubble because he's like, "so the doctor said my mobility is looking good. i should stick with a few exercises every day but other than that, everything is as it should be." it's a stupid thing to say, really, because buck knows that already. buck was the one who took him to the doctor and sat in the office, knee bouncing nervously, waiting for him before they went to pick up chris from school (that'd been eddie's idea. scheduling his appointments during school hours so they didn't have to worry chris). but buck is like "good, that's good." and it is, it's great news, but he knows what's coming. of course he does, how could he not? he knows eddie better than he knows himself at this point. so eddie says, forcibly casual, "yeah, i guess that means you can move back to your place and get back to your life and stop camping out on my sofa" which is another stupid thing to say since they both know buck spends most of his nights in eddie's bed, and that the only life he's ever seemed to want kind of looks like the one he's got now. "yeah, i guess so," buck says. and he huffs a fake laugh because he thinks that's the point in the conversation where he should. but then eddie's says, suddenly serious, "look. i don't.. do this -- you know i don't do this -- but i -- i mean -- i guess i just" he cuts himself off, frustrated. takes a deep breath, looks in buck's eyes, starts again. "i couldn't have done these last few weeks without you. and i really needed you to know that. so thank you." his eyes drop to buck's mouth like he just can't help it, and buck notices immediately because of course he does. they're sitting so close together they might as well be fused together, and they both want this. they both want to close the distance between them and just let themselves have this. but.... there's always a "but" with them. buck swallows hard and eddie tracks the movement of his throat. "it's no problem," he whispers. there's so much tension between them. it would be so easy, terrifyingly easy, for either of them to lean over and kiss each other the way they deserve to be kissed. but eddie retreats first. "i think i'm going to get ready for bed." neither of them say it, but they both know buck's sleeping on the couch tonight, just like they both know they're never going to speak about the weeks he's spent in eddie's bed again. eddie stands up, heart racing. "anyway, goodnight man." his palms are sweaty. he feels like a child with a playground crush with the way he can't help but reach out and touch buck's shoulder as he walks past.... but if he happens to take note of and catalogue the way buck subconsciously leans into his touch and file it away to cherish on lonely, sleepless nights, well. then. that's his little secret anyways yeah that's what i think happened

jack. what the fuck.

[literalliterature]

tell me about "Vesalius," "Once," or both. give me that original fiction. none of that fanfiction stuff I want Pure, Unadulterated Jack Originals. pouring like oil-iridescence from your face holes. uncut and crude.

I'm going to talk about Once because Vesalius is completely up in the air right now with regard to what I want to do with it and needs a complete plot overhaul. Also, I love Once and really ought to get back to it after not really touching it for awhile.

So first off, "Once" is pronounced like the Spanish word for "eleven," not like the English word "once." The story is about fantasy cowboys because as we all know I have a very specific brand, and "elevens" is the name of a particular riding contest that cowboys would have, which carries on in some forms of rodeo today!

Anyway, for my snippet I will post the first opening paragraphs and then provide a bit more detail.

Before she got rabid, we had a collie that breathed heavy when she slept, same way Nets is doing now. Some nights I'd sneak her in from the north field and press my hand down hard on her haunches like I would do to a wall, and she'd give way all at once. She buckled over my knees and pressed herself flat. Long fur puddling all over the blanket, stuck full of burs or sometimes fat ticks that were all seed-hard and round, fur so thick I could stick my whole hand in without feeling her ribs. I think of her, and I think of pelts with just the heads and legs attached. But her breathing was deep and loud and sometimes the only way I knew I hadn't come loose from the world and floated up into the sky. Every breath deep and strong enough to fuel a growl, every breath a puff of sage smoke. I liked that dog. Begged Mother to make a little sibling out of her for me, but only a damn fool would make a child out of a pet and furthermore I've only got the one hand left, is what she told me. And then the dog got rabid anyway, but it probably wouldn't have worked out even if she hadn't. I reckon I wouldn't want that now. Wouldn't be kind to anyone, really, trying to love something like a person when you'd been used to loving it like an animal.

Funny that someone named Nets should remind me of a big old dog, I guess, but it's always been funny, what she reminds me of. Her breath is textured, like the collie's was. It roughens as it runs upstream out of her. I've got nothing to do all night except imagine the path it takes to leave her, starting right from the place where you can feel the throat stick to itself in a dry swallow, coming up and scraping all along the roof of her mouth until it gets past the teeth. She lies on her side and curves her large body into the shape of a crescent moon or empty bowl when she sleeps. I'm small enough to tuck inside her cavity. My belly's to the stub-grass, and I rest my chin and gun barrel on her bicep, since her arm's flopped out. She makes a den of herself, and I don't think too hard about it. It's warm enough, anyway.

So this story focuses primarily on the complicated, potentially rekindling relationship between Nets and the narrator, Millstone, after a long separation, but everything is Not What It Seems about Nets and maybe never was etc. etc. ad infinitum. In the world they live in, human children are Born, capital B, as opposed to being lowercase born, the way that animals are. Being Born like a civilized person means engaging in a magic ritual involving, among other things, the death of an animal that ends up being transfigured into the new child. Mill was Born from a coyote, Nets was Born from a passenger pigeon, and both of them work as "midwives" in addition to regular cowboys--i.e., they help conduct the Birthing ritual for people using the cattle that they herd when requested.

Anyway originally this was going to be a short story but it may turn into a novella, because I'm having too much fun with the world's superstitions and taboos about what it means to be Born from one animal versus another, whether it is possible to revert back to the animal that you were before, etc.

This was incoherent because it's 5:30 AM but lemme know if you want clarification. Thanks Luna <3

[strongsassysexysloane]

Loved the two you put out! If you are still taking prompts could you do 4. “Are you flirting with me?” / “You finally noticed?” please? If not no worries :)

Sorry I know this ask was from months ago and I did it but then forgot for ages. 😬

So here it is ☺️

. . . . .

The celebrations had kicked up a notch. Tim kept mentioning shots and no one was at his level yet well except for Gibbs. He'd downed several drinks once he arrived.

Jack on the other hand was actually sober compared to everyone. She was happily sitting in the corner chatting with a drunk Palmer about something Ducky said last week.

Your heart was continuously trying to fight your brain into interrupting them. She'd looked over at you a few times and smiled. It gave you flutters even if you were past the point of feeling anything properly.

Thankfully their conversation seemed to end and she walked over to you. "What's cooking, good looking?" She smirked at your obvious blush.

You took another sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact until she threw in a wink and you almost choked. "Are you flirting with me?"

Without a beat. "You finally noticed?"

Not quite what you were expecting, Actually you didn't know what you were expecting. You laughed, trying to hide all the feelings that came bubbling.to the surface and you missed it. Missed the hurt that Jack felt by your reaction and clear deflection of her confession.

"Right well. Gibbs mentioned tequila shots so I'm out before I get any of that stuff near my system." She gave a half-hearted smile. "Night."

You stood there drunk and watched as she quickly backed away before you could do anything.

"Hey, what was that?" Kasie popped up beside you. "Why aren't you going after her?"

You turned too quickly to face her and your head spun. "Woah." You grabbed the table for support before you could concentrate on Kasie confused look. "Why would I? She obviously didn't want to be here?"

Now it was her turn to laugh and for you to be confused. "You're kidding right? She's been staring at you all night. Couldn't get a word in with Palmer for the past half hour. She practically jumped out of her seat when he took a breath."

You were even more confused. The furrow in your brow only deepening.

"What's gotten into you?"

"The bourbon mostly." You grinned, but the grin dropped when she put a hand on her hip. "Sorry... She said she was flirting with me and well you know me plus alcohol."

"You go even more dumb."

"Hey!"

"She's waiting for her ride. Go talk to her."

"Because I can do that?"

"Just go." She shoved you this time. Taking the drink from your grasp and nudging you towards the exit. Thankfully your feet eventually caught you again after a little trip.

You were unsure if you were hoping for Jack to still be outside or gone. If you were drunk there would be no way you'd be doing this right now.

"Y/n?"

You heard your name as you stumbled out of the bar, looking hopelessly into the dark. She was sitting on a bench outside the shop next door.

"Rides gonna be a bit." She slumped against the back of the seat and tapped the space beside her. "Need some air?"

You collapse into the seat, "Not really." She bumps your shoulder and the world spins, you were drunk. The nudge was for you to continue but all you do can do is a small smile.

A sigh escaped her lips. "Then you..."

"Kasie may have mentioned how dumb I've been and I don't know how to talk about this..."

She places her hand on your knee, her palm warm against your skin, the shock in temperature shoots up your body. "This being me flirting with you?"

You nodded and manage to look her in the eye. She's smiling, probably laughing at you on the inside but you don't care. That smile lights a fire in you and before you can think your lips are against hers. It's when she kisses you back with even more passion than you, that you don't pull away. Her hand snakes around your neck, holding you there even when she pulls apart to take a breath.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that tonight." She smirks, pecking your lips again and it brings a stupid smile to your face.

You bump your nose with her's. "Been wanting to do that for months."

"What took you so long?" She hums, her hand coming forward to cup your cheek as her eyes take over your face. Her thumb running over you bottom lip and you can't help but moan.

This time she pulls you in, swallowing your moan in the process. You grip her jacket to keep her close but to make sure it's real, that she's real. "Had to make sure you were actually flirting with me." You whisper against her lips before kissing her again.

You hear the car pull up but you ignore it. She sits back, waves at the driver before looking back at you. "Want to come back to my place?"

You freeze, unable to collect your thoughts and apparently your facial expression. She laughs at you, slipping her hand in yours before pulling you up with her. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure I don't want to stop kissing you right here and I'm sure I want to go home."

You laugh and follow her to the car before letting her open the door for you. "Guess the others can handle themselves."

"With tequila? Doubtful." She slides in the backseat beside you.

You scrunch your nose up at the mention of Tequila. "Ok, going home with you is definitely the better option."

She quirks an eyebrow at you as the car pulls away from the curb. "Better option?"

You roll your eyes. "Best option I've had in years." You grin, leaning in and placing a kiss on her lips.

There was no other option and you both knew it.

. . . .

Something that has been sitting in my drafts for months. I wanted to add more but nothing new really came... Enjoy 😆

[freakynct]

「𝒂-𝒛 𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔」

— jung yoon-oh

‏‏‎ ‎

a; aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jaehyun can get pretty rough without even noticing it but he never forgets to take care of you after he's done with you. he's the first one to get up, grabbing a warm wet towel to clean you up. he doesn't talk much during it, prefers to place gentle kisses over your skin after brushing the towel over it. helps you put on some comfortable clothes on and cuddles with you if that's what you ask for

b; body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i feel like he's very proud of his body and his favorite body part on himself might be his abs. on you, it's definitely your eyes, he loves interesting and distinct eyes and loves staring into them, makes him feel closer to you

c; cum (anything to do with cum basically)

i think he doesn't have a preference when it comes to where to cum, he likes doing it everywhere, your mouth, inside you, your back, stomach, he's happy to cum wherever you want him to. i feel like he cums a lot and sometimes it can be messy but he lowkey likes that

d; dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

jaehyun secretly loves to spend money on women. either going to the strip club and just spending the whole night throwing stacks of money to half naked women dancing in front of him or sticking bills in a stripper's panties while getting a private lap dance or, the most secret of his fantasies, paying some hooker to have sex with him. there's something about being able to afford all of these dirty fantasies and all of these women that makes him feel powerful and that turns him on so much

e; experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i feel like jaehyun is the most likely to get involved in one night stands and purely sexual relationships out of everyone, so i do believe he has a lot of experience and really knows what he's doing. i don't wanna say a specific number of people he has slept with but i'm guessing a lot

f; favourite position (goes without saying)

jaehyun loves any position that gives him power over you and where you look vulnerable to him, so probably one of his favorites is when he has you face down and ass up and he holds your arms behind your back while he thrusts into you. sometimes, if he's feeling a little bit more rough, he will even hold both your wrists with one hand and pull on your hair with the other

g; goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

i don't see jaehyun having sex in any other way but serious. he's really not the type to goof around with you when it comes to sex, it's something serious and sensual to him, not something to giggle about, i think he would feel a little awkward if that happened

h; hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

we've seen his little happy trail so i think he definitely doesn't shave everything, i really don't see him doing that anyways. probably just trims it well and that's it

i; intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

i think jaehyun really needs to be in a certain mood to make love to you, so it's either a very special occasion or he's feeling more emotional because otherwise i really see him as the type to prefer rougher sex most of the time and that's just how naturally he is. but don't be fooled, because when he does make love to you, he really knows how to be sweet and take really good care of you, don't forget that jaehyun is a softie at heart. i also think that jaehyun is one of the members that is more comfortable with having a purely sexual relationship, he doesn't need to be in a relationship to have sex at all

j; jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think he jacks off regularly, probably 4-5 times a week. he needs it to let off some stress and relax. if he can't have someone to fuck then he won't hesitate to use his hand and he has gotten really good at it. he chooses a time when he's alone, most likely at night, pulls out some of his favorite porn that he probably already has saved, and starts stroking himself. he doesn't waste time teasing himself or edging, he likes to get straight to the point and cum as soon as he can. he only makes noise when he's actually cumming, groaning as he releases his seed over his hand

k; kink (one or more of their kinks)

jaehyun has many kinks and probably hides a good portion of them, only fantasizing about them in his head. i feel like his main kinks would be power play, sir/daddy kink, choking, hair pulling, face fucking, brat taming, degradation, exhibitionism and anything else that allows him to show his strength over you, he likes to feel powerful during sex

l; location (favourite places to do it)

i feel like having sex in risky places would turn in on beyond belief. he would particularly like to fuck you against a window, the thought of someone seeing how well he's fucking you making him even harder and making him fuck you even rougher. he also loves to fuck you on top of hard surfaces like a table, desk or even counter

m; motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

he loves the way a soft kiss can turn into an intense makeout session. the feeling of having your hands holding his face, your lips gently brushing over his, the kiss starting slow and soft, hands start to get a little more eager, trying to reach everywhere, tongues slowly making their way into each others mouths, lips moving harder against one another, that right there. that's something that makes his pants feel tighter

n; no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

another member i think wouldn't like to be dommed at all. like i've mentioned many times, jaehyun strikes me as the type to want to be in control and feel powerful during sex so i don't think he would enjoy handing that power to someone else and letting them use it on him

o; oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

i feel like he enjoys giving oral the most when he's close to that person or when he's in a relationship. he doesn't enjoy it as much if it's a random person he just met. however he loves receiving oral from anyone at all times, it never fails to turn him on when someone is standing on their knees in front of him with his cock between their lips

p; pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jaehyun fucks rough and hard most of the time. he's strong and easily likes to throw you around and "use you" for his pleasure. he gets really excited and sometimes forgets how rough he can be. he loves thrusting deep and hard inside you, likes to feel you squirming and shaking under him and to see the small bruises forming under his fingertips. he will only be gentle and sweet if he's feeling vulnerable or you ask him very nicely

q; quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

i wouldn't say it's his favorite thing but he also wouldn't say no to it. quickies are sometimes necessary to him if he's feeling really horny and there's not much time or you're somewhere less appropriate. if he needs to have you then he'll have you and that's when quickies come in handy. but he prefers proper sex so much more

r; risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

he isn't the riskiest person but he would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on. he probably wouldn't enjoy if someone actually walked in on him but the thought of it somehow excites him. when it comes to experimenting i feel like he would only do it if it's something that he has also fantasized about and knows that he'll probably enjoy. but if it's something that he's not into, he will refuse to do it even if you really want to, there's just some things that he won't do

s; stamina (how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

i feel like jaehyun isn't the type to go for many rounds, he prefers to have just one long and intense round. he has a lot of self control and can last for a really long time, can and will make you cum multiple times but once he has done it, i don't think he would want another round, except in rare cases when he or you are still very horny

t; toy (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

no toys, i really don't see him using them. and it's not even because he doesn't like them or anything like that, he simply doesn't see a point in it when he can make you feel so good himself. he wants to be the reason why you're squirming and moaning and cumming and he doesn't need toys for that

u; unfair (how much they like to tease)

he's not the type to tease that much, only when he's in a very particular mood. he likes to go straight to the point and doesn't like to waste time with little games. i feel like when he does tease you, it's definitely with his words rather than with his touch

v; volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)

he's not that loud, more of a heavy breather and spends most of sex panting. groans loudly when he cums though

w; wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

you hum against jaehyun's soft lips, feeling how he grows harder against you, under the fabric of his pants. it had been two weeks since you last saw each other but his hungry kiss gave away how much he had missed you. he grabbed your waist a little bit tighter and pressed your back against the wall even harder, a thin string of spit connecting your lips when he moved away to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense. one of his hands left your waist to pet your hair, feeling the way it started to apply some pressure over your head, signaling for you to drop to your knees, which you happily did, your hands wandering around over his prominent boner. "you're gonna take me inside your pretty little mouth, hm? did you miss my cock baby? yeah? you're gonna let me fuck your little mouth? that's my good girl."

x; x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

jaehyun is on the average size and more on the thicker side. you'll definitely feel the stretch but it's one of the best feelings and your hand will probably look small around him. he's most likely circumcised as well

y; yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he's good at hiding it and holding it in and sometimes when he's away from you that's exactly what he has to do but on a perfect scenario, he's ready to have sex about 4-5 times a week. he doesn't get turned on super easily but if you learn what he likes and you make the right moves, you'll be able to have him anytime you'd like

z; zzz (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

like i've mentioned in the beginning, jaehyun pays close attention to aftercare, so he won't fall asleep until he's sure you're taken care of. after all that is done, i do see him falling asleep rather quickly

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

Chapter One: Lonely Together

Jack Kline x OC

Rated: PG

~I might hate myself tomorrow

But I'm on my way tonight

Let's be lonely together

A little less lonely together~

Sent: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

I smiled down at my phone before clicking it off and slipping it into my pocket. I didn't know who I had sent the message to. It was just a number I had punched in at random. I didn't expect anyone to reply.

Wrapping my dark green cardigan tighter around my body, I pulled my knees in closer to my chest and pressed myself closer against the wall of the bakery. The wall was only slightly warmer than the frigid air around me. It was December 2nd and icy gales were blowing in from Lake Superior and stinging the skin of the city's occupants.

The sky hung dark, low, and flat over Copper Harbor, Michigan. Copper Harbor was an itty-bitty town at the northern most tip of the northernmost part of Michigan. You know that piece of land that's only connected to the mainland by a highway, that in-between place that really should be Canada, but isn't? That's where Copper Harbor is and that's where I was.

Copper Harbor was the sort of town where newcomers and visitors are as common as flying pigs and are treated with about as much scrutiny. It's not one of those small, friendly towns just off the highway; the ones that are pleasant to find yourself in if you've taken a wrong turn. It's quite the feat to get lost and turn up in Copper Harbor, considering its miles away from anything and everything remotely interesting, unless you're searching for Bigfoot or a drunk Canadian that took a wrong turn. Though those two things might just end up being one and the same. No, nobody came to Copper Harbor unless they had a reason. That's just the sort of place it was. And aside from the mind-numbing cold, it was exactly the sort of place I wanted to be.

The clouds were so heavy with the snow that now drifted down, dusting everything in a layer of fine white powder, it seemed that someone standing on even the lowest rooftop could reach up and touch them. The snowflakes raining down from those clouds gave the appearance of tiny shooting stars. Many would have found the sight beautiful. I didn't. I just found it cold and somewhat depressing. Some people say that shooting stars are angels, falling to the earth to bless the lives of people in need. I've never liked those sorts of stories. The stars belong in the heavens. The dust belongs on the earth. Collecting in puddles, the sparkling, sugar-like ice crystals did nothing to ease the bitter cold. I shivered and coughed, my breath fogging in front of me.

I should have frozen to death hours ago.

But I can't die. At least, not that way.

Suffering, on the other hand, I can do that to no end.

I put my head between my knees, hoping to retain what little heat my walking corpse had to offer. I struggled to remain conscious. The story of the little-match-girl was playing in my head. I'd never liked that story's ending. Hallucinations really weren't my thing, especially hallucinations about things I tried not to think about, the things I tried to burry in the farthest corners of my mind. I had to distract myself, to think about anything that would keep me awake. The problem was, there was nothing to distract me.

Pling!

My phone buzzed in my pocket with a text. I grasped it quickly, greedy for a distraction, but I paused upon seeing the number displayed upon the screen. It was that number I had texted the Merry Christmas message to. Whoever it was had texted me back. I unlocked my phone and peered at the mystery person's message.

Received: 11:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

The message read. I smiled a little, surprised that anyone would care to return my quiet Christmas wish. The screen of my phone lit up with another message.

Received: 11:19 PM

Who are you?

The question was a simple one. Though tone can often be difficult to infer over written text, the question seemed to bear no hostility, only innocent curiosity. I thought for a bit about what to say, the answer was not as simple as the question had implied.

***

Located quite literally one thousand miles away from Copper Harbor, was the small, out-of-the-way town of Lebanon, Kansas. Now, in the outskirts Lebanon there was a hill. The hill was modestly sized and carpeted with thick grass painted with a layer of frost. Although it was a rather pleasant sight for some stray hiker to find, the hill was really quite unremarkable. That is, if you ignored the hulking steel door built into the side of it that looked like the entrance to a post-apocalyptic hobbit hole. See, built under that hill there was a bunker. It looked like any ordinary bunker if one can ever describe a bunker as ordinary. But inside this ordinary looking bunker, sat something rather extraordinary and his name was Jack.

Jack Kline was quite happy where he was. Sitting with his legs crossed on a chair beside the bunker's fireplace, Jack held Sam's beloved lap-top between his knees. Sam let him borrow it on the nights he couldn't sleep. Those nights were many. Sleepless nights were one of the many side effects of being half-angel, but he didn't really mind. Jack wasn't overly fond of sleep, not like Sam or Dean who adored the few hours they got. Jack would much rather be awake because if he was asleep then he couldn't observe. He liked to observe. He loved learning. He loved taking in anything and everything going on around him, soaking it all up like a sponge with legs. He especially loved to soak up a story. Epic ones with heroes that defeat powerful villains. Jack loved stories.

So, no; Jack Kline was not overly fond of sleep. No, Jack preferred to just sit quietly and watch those epic stories as they played out in front of him on the screen of Sam's lap-top.

Currently, he was watching Star Wars: The Clone Wars. The computer had said he would like it, and the computer had been right. He had just finished season 2 and had begun on season 3. Some small voice in the back of his mind told him he should slow down and draw the series out a little longer, but Jack just couldn't find the will to do so. This story was just too good to stop. Jack shoved a hand full of popcorn in his mouth as he pressed the play button on the next episode. He had managed to sneak several bags of popcorn from the kitchen and into the secret stash in his room a few nights earlier. It was perfect, except popcorn needed to be popped and popping the kernels without attracting notice was a bit of a challenge. But he found that if he popped them during the day, when everyone was clamoring about and busy with whatever, the noise from the popping kernels wouldn't peak any suspicion. The only downside to his strategy was that it left him with cold popcorn. Though this too could be remedied via his angel powers, if he was careful about it, he could warm up the popcorn undetected.

Now, don't get the impression that Jack was being starved, or held in this bunker against his will, or something awful like that. As was mentioned before, Jack was very happy there. The Winchesters, Sam and Dean, and the angel Castiel, lived there with him and took care of him. They were his family and Jack loved them. The only reason he had a secret stash at all was because Sam was the only one in the bunker who cared about the importance of having a somewhat healthy diet. Whereas Dean let the boy eat pretty much anything he wanted and Cas- well in Cas's mind food was food and that's all there was to it. But Sam didn't like it when he caught Jack eating what he referred to as 'junk food'.

Somehow, Sam always caught him.

"That stuff’ll rot your teeth, Jack!" He'd sigh, as he'd flip on the kitchen light and catch Jack eating cereal sometime around midnight. Then he'd look at Jack with a disappointed look on his face until Jack threw the cereal away and went back to bed. Jack hated it when Sam looked at him like that, he just couldn't bear to let the Winchesters down.

But Jack loved to eat. Eating was enjoyable as it brought with it something new every time. Yet more things to absorb and to experience. Although the younger Winchester disapproved of the more sugary foods; Jack liked those a whole lot more than the salads Sam tried to get him to eat. Jack didn't like the salads or 'Rabbit Food' as Dean called it. No, Jack liked popcorn a quite a bit more.

He smiled as he brought another handful into his mouth. Yes, Jack Kline quite enjoyed eating.

Plip! Ploop!

Jack's head swiveled away from the screen to stare at the phone laying face-up on the arm rest of the chair in which he sat. The screen was alight with a text message. He picked up the phone and unlocked it. The message read:

Received: 10:52 PM

Merry Christmas, stranger. I hope yours is as bright as new fallen snow. Stay warm.

That was all. Jack was quite confused; he didn't know that number. Who had sent the text? What should he do? Should he say something back?

Curiosity and caution struggled in a match tug-of-war in his head. He wanted to know who the message had come from. He wanted to know why that person had sent it. He also wanted to know why he had a strange feeling that whoever had sent the message was horribly sad. But would the Winchesters be mad at him if he answered? Sam and Dean had given him the phone just a few days earlier.

"For emergencies," Sam had said as he laid the device in Jack's hand before resuming his packing. Jack had stared at it, rather confused as to its purpose. Castiel had been off somewhere doing something and Sam and Dean had been leaving for a hunt, leaving him alone which Dean was completely and utterly against.

"Only for emergencies," Dean had stressed, jabbing his finger in Jack's general direction as he inspected various articles of clothing before tossing them into a duffle bag. "That means don't text or call unless someone is breaking in or you're dying!"

Sam shot his older brother a warning look. Dean ignored it and pulled a pair of socks out of his dresser, sniffing them briefly before making a face and chucking them to the other side of the room. Jack looked back down at the small black rectangle in his palm.

"Okay so, only text or call in case there's an emergency. Got it." Jack clinched the thin black box between his thumb and forefinger, carefully lifting it up as if it might explode in his face. "But, one question, if something happens like-like you said, like somebody breaking in or me dying, how-how would I do that?" He asked, looking back at the two brothers. They both froze their hasty packing and pivoted to stare at him, their eyebrows raised with disbelieving question.

"What?" Dean asked the young Nephilim. Jack shrank away a little, not wanting to upset the older Winchester.

"How do I text or call you? I don't know how to do that," Jack had timidly replied. Dean just shook his head and returned to over-stuffing the duffle. Sam, however, was much more understanding.

"That's right, you-you don't, do you?" Sam asked, realizing his mistake. Jack turned his attention to the younger of the brothers, shaking his head in an answer to Sam's question.

"Unbelievable," Dean muttered, rolling his eyes. Sam shot him another glare which Dean merely shrugged off.

"Well, come on then, I'll teach you," Sam had said. Jack watched as Sam set the contacts and explained how everything worked. He showed Jack how to send a text, how to dial and answer a call, and all the other things Jack would need to know. Jack just watched him and took note of every little thing. Watching and replicating was how Jack learned best.

"Now, if I don't answer my phone, you call Dean. But if he doesn't pick up, I want you to call me again, if I still don't answer a second time, I want you to call this number right here. That's Jody Mills, she's a friend of ours and she'll help you, alright? You get all that?" Sam finished explaining and looked for Jack to confirm his understanding. Jack nodded.

"I got it!" He said, enthusiastically. Sam gave the young boy a nervous smile.

"You do? Can you repeat it back to me?" Sam asked Jack the question the same way Sam and Dean's father had always asked them.

"If something happens, call you, and if you don't answer, call Dean. If Dean doesn't answer then I call you again, but if you still don't pick up, then call Jody Mills." Jack repeated all of Sam's instructions perfectly, grinning proudly at the younger Winchester when he finished. Sam laughed a little, but nerves twinged his voice.

"Good, yeah. Okay," Sam paused, thinking things over, "You know what, Jack? If neither of us answer your call and it's really that urgent, don't bother calling me a second time. Just call Jody right away if you can't get through to either of us. Alright?"

"Alright!" Jack nodded, grinning. Sam nodded back, stiffly.

"Alright." He seemed like he wanted to say something else but didn't know how to say it.

"You two done in there, Sammy?! We gotta go!" Dean called, walking in from another room. Sam stood and looked at his brother.

"Uh, yeah. I think we're good," He took a few steps towards the stairs that lead up to the door before pausing and turning back to Jack, "We're good, right? You're gonna be okay here by yourself?" Sam asked again. Jack grinned and gave him a thumbs up.

"I'll be fine. You don't have to worry."

Sam nodded and smiled with so much nervousness it almost hurt to watch.

"Okay, good. It's good. We're good," He said, nodding and trying to reassure himself more than anyone else. Dean raised an eyebrow at his overly anxious little brother, tugging his old leather jacket on over his shoulders, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he directed his remarks at Jack.

"Hey, kid. Whatever you do, don't do anything stupid," He'd said, half glaring, "We'll be back in a few days." Then they'd left.

Now, Jack glanced back down at the phone in his hands, remembering Dean's warning about not doing anything stupid. But his curiosity regarding the sender of the message was overwhelming. It couldn't hurt to text this person back, right? Was that what Dean had meant by his warning? Did this count as something stupid? What was the worst that could happen? Deciding that the benefits outweighed the risks, he texted back.

Sent: 10:18 PM

Merry Christmas to you as well!

Jack wrote.

Sent: 10:19 PM

Who are you?

No sooner had asked his question, he began to worry that he might have sounded rude. He waited with anticipation for the mystery person to reply. He didn't have to wait long.

Received: 10:20 PM

It doesn't matter, you don't know me.

I'm just someone wanting to give you a warm holiday wish.

Jack frowned. Again, he got the distinct feeling that the person on the other side of this conversation was deeply saddened by something. He desperately wanted to know what. So, he did the thing he did best. He asked and waited to see what would happen.

***

Received: 11:21 PM

If you don't know me, why do you care?

I don't mean to be rude. I'm just curious.

Why do this?

I read the person's question once, then twice, then three times and I realized that I didn't have an answer. Why did I care? Why was I texting some random person a Christmas wish? For all I knew, this person may not even observe the holiday. I had so many of my own things to worry about I was nearly drowning in them. I didn't know this person. I had nothing to do with them. So, why did I care about their holiday season? Why was I doing this?

I told myself it was just a random act of kindness. But deep down I knew what the reason was, and even if I didn't want to think about it, I felt it in my heart. I was doing this for the same reason I did everything. So, I took a few moments and came up with a reply.

Sent: 11:25 PM

I'm doing this because I believe that no one should ever have to be alone,

especially during the holidays.

I sent my reply and remembered to keep on shivering. I could hardly feel the cold anymore, I had gone almost completely numb. But I knew if I didn't keep moving, I would surely freeze in place and be unable to move until spring came. I vaguely wondered how cold it was. I remembered having heard on someone's car radio that this was supposed to be the coldest winter Michigan had experienced in the last decade. Though winter had only just begun, it was already cold enough for the district council to be suggesting face coverings to prevent citizens from getting frostbite and losing their nose.

I sneezed. I had no such face covering. Hell! I didn't even have a jacket! Let alone a coat or anything mildly warm. All I had was my oversized green cardigan, my black Star Wars t-shirt and my black jeans. That was it. Yet here I sat, outside a bakery in well below freezing temperatures, shivering myself into next decade.

I could go to a shelter. At least there I wouldn't have to endure the bitter biting of the wind as it gushed with double its normal force through these tight, abandoned alleyways. But if I went to a shelter then there was no chance of leaving undetected, I reminded myself. No, it was better to stay here, cold and alone, than to risk human contact.

I was pulled from my thoughts by another pling from my phone. Another message from that unknown contact.

Received: 11: 27

Are you alone?

Again, the question was simple. And although the mere thought hurt like a knife twisting in a fresh wound, I looked around at the dark, trash littered alleyway I sat in, watching the scattered rags of paper flutter and tumble in the winter gales, and I looked at the brutally beautiful puddles of speckled ice gathering along my body and melting on my skin, and I examined the bleak night sky, choked starless by the drifting dreary clouds; and the utterly silent stillness of the sleeping city revealed the harsh reality of my answer.

No one was here.

Nobody cared.

Not even the stars would keep me company. Because the stars never cared who I was.

So, with no reason to keep the truth hidden. I answered the question honestly.

Sent: 11: 29 PM

Yes.

Sent: 11: 30 PM

I am alone.

I was completely and utterly alone.

***

Received: 10: 30 PM

I am alone.

Once again Jack got the distinct impression that these words carried a heavy burden. It made him frown. What could he do to help a person he didn't even know? He wanted to ask this person if they had any friends, but something about those words told him the answer. When this person had said they were alone, Jack got the feeling they weren't just talking about the current moment. But maybe that's what this person needed. Maybe they needed a friend.

Sent: 10: 32 PM

Well, I'll be your friend and talk to you. There, now you're not alone anymore!

Jack smiled as he sent the text. The reply didn't take long.

Received: 10: 33 PM

Thank you.

You don't have waste your time on me but thank you.

It didn't take any special powers to read in between the lines this time, anyone could see the sadness in those words. Though Jack wasn't sure if it was his powers causing that strange feeling or if he was just imagining things.

Sent: 10:34 PM

I don't mind. Really!

Besides, I don't have anyone to talk to either.

Received: 10: 35 PM

Well, in that case, we can be lonely together!

Jack grinned. He'd made himself a friend. He couldn't wait to get to know them.

***

Received: 11: 36 PM

Since we're friends now, what's your name?

I smiled down at my new mystery friend's message. There was something about the words that made them seem innocent and earnest. It couldn't hurt to give my name, right? It’s not like he could find me. After all, I'm supposed to be dead.

Sent: 11: 37 PM

My name is Martina.

I sent my name and waited for the response. It came quickly.

Received: 11: 38 PM

I like your name Martina!

It's very pretty.

I flinched as I read the text. Something about seeing my name written in the text brought me back to a conversation with a different person a long time ago. It was a painful memory, and I didn't want to see it anymore. I didn't want another reminder of the still bleeding wounds in my heart. I remembered why I didn't let anyone call me that name anymore.

Sent: 11: 39 PM

Thank you.

But I would prefer you call me Marty.

I didn't want to be so sensitive to things like this, but I just couldn't help it.

Received: 11: 40 PM

Alright! I like Marty too.

It's a fun name.

I smiled; grateful they didn't ask why it was so important that they called me by a nickname.

Sent: 11: 41 PM

Thanks for understanding.

So, what's your name?

Received: 11: 42 PM

My name is Jack!

I grinned to myself. I'd made me a friend. I just couldn't wait to get to know him.

Sent: 11: 43 PM

Heya, Jack!

It’s nice to meet you!

I think this is the beginning of a wonderful friendship.

Received: 11: 44 PM

I agree, Marty. We are going to be great friends!

Sent: 11: 45 PM

So, what's your favorite movie?

And just like that, we talked until the sun came up. And suddenly, for the first time in quite a while, I wasn't completely alone.

***

"Hey, uh, Jack? We're back!"

Sam's voice drifted in from just outside Jack's bedroom door. Jack was surprised. He hadn't heard the brothers come in which, for him, was quite peculiar.

The door creaked open and Jack hastily attempted to pretend like he hadn't been using the phone.

He failed.

Miserably.

The device slipped from his hand and he fumbled to catch it before it smashed against the grey, polished concrete floor. He let out a sigh of relief as he snatched it just in time.

Sam peered around the door, checking in on Jack, who was now hanging halfway off his bed and clutching the phone. Scrambling to sit upright, Jack gave Sam a half-panicked smile.

"Hi Sam!" He waved a greeting, shoving his phone behind his back. Sam raised his eyebrows in a questioning expression and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. He folded his arms and leaned back on his heels.

"Hey Jack," Sam seemed a little distracted, "Have you seen Cas?" He asked. Jack shook his head vigorously.

"He's not back yet," He answered. Sam nodded and started to leave before stopping and turning back. Only now seeming to notice Jack's odd behavior. Sam gestured at the phone hidden behind the boys back,

"So, what were you doing in here just now?" Jack's eyes flew wide as quarters and his gaze shifted rapidly around the room, focusing on anywhere but Sam. His mind was working overtime trying to find a viable excuse.

"Uhhhh...Nothing!" Jack tried; his brain had gone blank. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure about that?" Sam leaned forward a little, narrowing his eyes. Jack leaned back to match; his face scrunched up with the guilt he was trying very hard to hide. Everyone in the bunker knew how terrible Jack was at lying. He might be able to pass a few simple fibs by a stranger, but his family saw through him like he was made of glass. He couldn't deceive them. But that didn't stop him from trying, however.

"Yes..." Jack said slowly, his eyebrows pulling together in a rather sad attempt at looking sincere.

"Jack, what were you doing?" Sam asked more sternly. Jack looked at his feet and didn't answer. His shoulders moved up and down in a shrug.

"Do I have to go get Dean?" Sam pressed. Now Jack's head shot up. He stretched his hands out in a pleading gesture.

"No, no! Don't tell Dean!" Jack begged. Sam's expression shifted into one of concern.

"If you tell me, I won't tell Dean." Sam agreed, moving to sit on the bed beside Jack who shifted to give him some space. Sam waited patiently for the young Nephilim to speak. Jack kept his head down and rubbed his hands together nervously as he tried to think of how he should explain himself.

"Well, last night I was watching Netflix when I got this text from somebody wishing me a merry Christmas-" He started.

"Someone we know?" Sam asked, interrupting. Jack shook his head and continued.

"I asked them why they would do that, and they said it was because they thought that nobody should be alone this time of year. So, I asked if they were alone and they said, yes ─" Jack looked the younger Winchester in the eyes ─

"I don't know why but I just got this- this feeling, and they sounded just so sad, and now we're friends! But Dean said not to do anything stupid, and now I'm worried that I did! Are you mad?" Jack finished, worry coloring his features. Sam blinked. Once again astounded by the size of the half-angel's heart, he shook his head.

"No, Jack. I'm not mad," He said, softly.

"Really?"

"Really. I think you did a good thing. Everyone needs a friend." Sam patted Jack's shoulder and smiled. Jack looked down, grinning to himself as pride filled his chest.

Sam waited a moment before getting up from the bed. Stretching his back out and groaning a bit as he stood. It had been almost 48 hours since he last slept, and he was more than ready for a long nap. His hand rested on the doorknob and he paused a moment before turning back around.

"Hey, uh, Jack. Just one more thing. Do you by chance know this person's name?" Sam asked. Jack looked up briefly before looking back at the floor again, trying to hide the embarrassment creeping up to stain his cheeks.

"It's, uh, it's Marty," He replied. Sam nodded and moved to leave again but he stopped. His eyebrows pulled down with confusion before he turned back.

"And uh, is that a boy's name or a girl's name? Do you know?" Jack turned his head a bit to the side and picked at a thread in his jeans.

"Does it matter?" He questioned back. Truthfully, it didn't. Sam wouldn't make Jack stop if he didn't want to. But to say that the boy's current evasive behavior didn't pique his interest, would be a lie. Though, the kid’s flushed cheeks told him quite a bit about the answer.

"It doesn't matter," Sam said, shrugging, "I'm just curious is all." The tall man watched the boy's reaction. Jack nodded and shifted as if uncomfortable.

"Marty's a girl." He answered, trying to force his voice into sounding nonchalant. And failing.

"Okay, cool." Sam nodded, turning around again, and reaching for the handle. Jack's head whipped around.

"Wait, Sam!"

Sam looked over his shoulder.

"Hmm?"

"Don't. Tell. Dean!" Jack stressed. Urgency was evident in his voice. Sam huffed a laugh.

"Okay, Jack." With that, Sam pulled open the door and walked out letting the heavy steel swing shut behind him. Behind the door, Jack sighed with relief. He'd dodged a bullet with that one.

Walking a ways down the hall, Sam got to Dean's room where his older brother was now unpacking. The younger brother leaned on the door frame and expelled the laughter he'd been holding on to since Jack’s room. Dean turned around, holding a pistol and a pair of weeks old and hopelessly blood caked socks in his hands, he faced Sam with a questioning look.

"What's got you so giggly all of a sudden?" The older of the brother's asked.

Dean glanced at the pair of socks in his hand. He grimaced at the stench and held them further away from his face, trying not to breathe. It didn't work. The socks odor was so pungent, Dean could smell them through his mouth. There was no hope of washing them. Nope, those things would have to be burned. Though, taking another whiff of them, Dean wasn't sure that even incinerating the socks would do him much good now. The stomach-turning stink would be branded into his memory forever. Sam straightened up, shaking his head of shoulder length hair.

"It's just something Jack said." Sam smiled and laughed again before taking notice of the unholy stench wafting off the socks. He coughed. "Dude, those stink. Bad!"

"Yeah, it's a sad day, Sammy." Dean nodded solemnly. Sam covered his nose.

"Why?"

"These were my second luckiest pair of socks."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, they're not anymore," Sam pointed out. Now, they were just rancid.

"I think we should give em' a Viking funeral, something to honor their service. I mean, I remember one time when I wore these things for two weeks straight!" Dean reminisced, grinning. Sam looked mildly disturbed.

"That's, uh... nice... But, uh, is there somewhere we could put them before the funeral? Because they, uh, they reek." Sam was trying hard not to gag and couldn't understand how Dean could be holding them and remain unaffected. Dean smirked.

"You wanna go put em' somewhere?" He asked, waving the socks into Sam's face. Sam leaned away.

"Ah! God! No! Put those things somewhere! Please!" He choked out. Dean just grinned and moved to the other side of the room. Grabbing a cardboard box from off the shelf, he shoved the socks in there and sealed the lid. The stench quickly began to dissipate.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"We're gonna have to burn that box too."

"Yup." Sam still felt a little sick but at least the socks were gone.

"So, what was it Jack said that you thought was so funny?" The older brother asked.

"Oh, uh, nothing. It was nothing," Sam said. But laughter began to creep up on him again. Dean rolled his eyes and went back to pulling more dirty clothing from the duffle bag.

"Are ya gonna stand there or are ya gonna spill?" Dean pushed. Sam sobered up again.

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you," He said.

Dean shook his head, mildly annoyed. He knew Sam was going to tell him whatever juicy information he had gotten, just like he always did when he got that sly look on his face. Sam could be a bit of a schoolgirl that way. Except, of course, when it came to the important things, the things Dean was supposed to know. Those things Sam always kept to himself.

"Well, Sammy, if you ain’t gonna spill─" he used the gun in his hand to gesture from Sam to the duffle bag─ "get workin'."

The younger Winchester moved to the bag and started unpacking, grinning his face off all the while. Dean knew his little brother was waiting for him to ask about the thing with Jack again, so he said nothing. He just waited for Sam to look over to him eagerly, which is exactly what Sam did.

"So get this!" Sam started.

'Here it comes.' Dean predicted internally. Sam kept starring.

'Yatzee.' Dean thought. He knew Sam like the back of his hand. Actually, he probably knew his brother better than that.

"Apparently, Jack got a text from some random person last night wishing him merry Christmas. And, well, you know Jack! So he─" Dean stopped his brother mid-sentence.

"What's her name?" He interrupted. Sam looked confused.

"I didn't say anything about a girl," Sam trailed off. Dean sighed and shook his head.

"Geez, Sammy! If you love drama so much, you should go be an actor. You ain't foolin' anybody. We both know where this is goin' so just cut to the chase!" Dean sighed, opening a trunk and tossing in the gun he'd been holding along with several knives. His small outburst had startled his younger brother, but Dean didn't really care. Sam wasn't the only one who hadn't slept in 48 hours. Sleep was calling and Dean wanted nothing more than to answer. Sam frowned.

"Marty. The girl's name is Marty," Sam stated, sounding rather put out that Dean had guessed at his not-so-cleaver ploy. The older if the pair turned to the younger with a perplexed expression.

"Wait, wait. Marty?" He clarified. Amused disbelief written all over his features.

"Marty," Sam confirmed.

"Marty?"

"Yeah. Marty."

"Like the zebra in Madagascar, Marty?" Dean asked, grinning. Sam nodded.

"Yeah, like that. But remember, you didn't hear anything from me!" He answered, smiling as well. Dean laughed as he turned his attention back to the mess of clothing and weapons surrounding him on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever, drama queen." Dean rolled his eyes and kept working. The room was silent for a moment before the older Winchester burst out laughing again. He couldn't help himself; he found the subject hilarious.

"Ah, man. Marty! Now there's a name!" He exclaimed as he started folding the few clean clothing items laying in the pile. "What? Did her parents just take one look at her and say: 'Look at our beautiful baby! Let's name her Marty!'" Dean scoffed.

Sam snorted and shook his head at his older brother's bad joke. Then he leaned his head back and yawned.

"Man, I think we need some sleep," Sam sighed. Dean smirked.

"Is it your bedtime already?" He taunted, expecting a playful retort. But this time, Sam didn't argue. He just nodded.

"Yeah, I think it is." Though worried about his little brother, Dean held his playful smirk in place perfectly, just like he had been doing for so many years.

"Well, you go ahead and hit the sack. I'll finish up here." He said, easily. Even though he was just as tired and Sam was, he would finish out like always. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, o'course. There's not much left anyway." That was a lie and they both knew it, but Sam took the offer of sleep while it was on the table.

"Thanks, Dean."

"You're welcome, Sammy."

Sam patted his older brother on the arm as he stood and left the room. Traveling down the corridor he got to his bedroom and was out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Meanwhile, Dean mouthed the strange name of Jack's mystery girl and chuckled about it to himself. Sitting on the floor in his room as he continued folding the rest of the clean clothes, cleaning out all the weapons and putting everything back in its place. The chore took him two more hours to complete but when it was done, he stretched himself out and laid back on his bed.

"Marty. Now, that's hilarious." Dean snickered to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

~I might hate myself tomorrow.

But I'm on my way tonight.

Let's be lonely together.

A little less lonely together~

Lyrics from: Lonely Together by Jasmine Thompson

[bluecookies02]

Dom!Twice x Reader

summary: Jin and you bumped into each other khm, the attraction evident coming from both sides. Despite you being a hero you can't resist him and you end up together in a hotel room.

->While this wasn't a previously discussed dynamic, Twice is just being rough but its consensual nonetheless. Take care of your Doms/Partners on each occasion, even while having one night stands, someone might need you💕

⚠️warnings⚠️ : voyeurism (two people watching and jacking off /it's a dirty hotel room why r u surprised), degradation, spanking, facefuck, female eating out a male, threesome (with a clone), rough to gentle (twice is a sweetheart and needs to be loved), unprotected sex/creampie.

A/N: this was a paid 6k word commission however for a male!reader (during a blm protest) and much more filthy and taboo but taking from the messages and triggered ppl in my asks and on wattpad, some ppl aren't comfortable with extreme topics so i won't be posting the full story (fuck it i added Jin sucking a guy off... i had to) because the "hate" I get makes me rly insecure about some kinks. Also Jin sucks a guys dick here. Be warned. It's wholesome tho.Kinda.

edit:male version here-> http://www.archiveofourown.org/works/25896667?view_adult=true

Sry for the long intro, enjoy.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

You've been strolling down the streets in hopes of getting back home before the curfew, not having the strength or the luxury to get caught by the cops.

Moving through familiar streets, you found yourself wondering off to today's events, the protests thankfully not becoming too dangerous and hazardous, making your heart flush in small victory.

Your attention was snapped back to reality as you heard a familiar gagging sound, and a loud, angry groan followed after it. Your eyes darted to the source of the filthy sounds, gulping once you managed to make out two bodies in the dark. A blonde-haired man choking on a fat black cock as what's supposedly spurts of cum coated his throat. The semen slowly spilled down the blonde’s lips and the tall man above him pulled the blonde up by his hair. The black man dipped his finger into the blonde’s mouth and glided it on his tongue, smearing the sticky liquid before connecting their lips before disappearing around the block.

His hooded eyes turned to look at you, a satisfied smirk forming on his lips.

Gulping down the cum down his throat, he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before slowly walking to your frozen form.

He reached for your hand, smiling brightly before introducing himself to you.

"Name's Jin, It's really nice to meet you," he said, looking you up and down, tongue swiping along his bottom lip.

"Y/N, I'm sorry for interrupting" a chuckle left his lips as he shook your hand.

"Oh none of that, I should be thanking you, it tripled my fun..you here for the protests, right?" you nod, your hand falling back down.

"I am. You support them?"

"In my own way apparently, now let's go, we have 5 minutes, I know a hotel nearby" he rushed out, motioning for you to follow.

You stared in confusion before realization hit you, quickly checking the time before rushing off to catch up with him.

He fumbled with his wallet, going to the register and dumping a few crumbled bills on the counter.

The hotel was dirty and smelly, the furniture in the waiting hall dusty and probably washed a decade ago.

"You can wait here until we prepare the room, with this money, you leave at 6 am sharp." the guy behind the counter rang for the staff, sending them off to unlock the room and change the sheets( at least that will be clean )

Jin and you sat on the dusty couch, him already familiar and comfortable, spreading his legs and laying back.

He fumbled with his lighter and the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

The crappy hotel was full of people rushing in and out of their rooms, borrowing/stealing stuff from one another, and when you took note of it, it looked more like a homeless shelter.

You wondered how many times did he stay in here, maybe even lived here.

"So...you don't like heroes huh?"

"Pft, I resent all people equally...though I make exceptions for those with a fat ass" he mumbled, straining his neck to look you up.

"And you pass the requirements" he laid back down, choking out the cigarette on the couch.

The maid came back shortly, giving you a key and directing you to a room on one of the top floors.

You pressed the elevator button, Jin following you suit as he stood close to you.

You turned your eyes to the numbers on the elevator suddenly interested in the worn-out digits on the metal buttons.

"You know, now that you're standing in this light, you look tasty all over..." his hot breath ghosted over your neck, his arm slipping down to clutch at your hip, pulling you against him.

"And you're so small I could eat you all up...push you down and pound into that fat pussy of yours."

his hand moved lower, grabbing a handful of your cheeks and kneading them in his palms.

You made no move to stop the man, the thought of the elevator opening as he was about to slip his hand in your pants made you swallow a lump in your throat, your cunt throbbing as you imagined the look on whoever was unlucky enough to stumble upon the two of you.

"You look so committed to your little acts of bravery, let's see how committed you are to sucking a cock" the elevator door opened, the floor you reached empty.

His hand tangled in your locks, pushing you out into the hall and forcing you to your knees.

His musky scent filled your nostrils as he pushed you against his clothed bulge, rubbing your face against a wet spot damping his sweats.

"I'm not gonna teach you how to do it, it's not gonna bite" he snarled, watching the way your hand reached up to pull at his sweatpants.

"That's a smart girl, go ahead" he hummed in approval, his hips jerking forward as you grabbed the front of his sweats, tugging the material along with his boxers.

His length hooked on his clothes, snapping up with a quiet "pop" sound as you finally had the opportunity to see it in all its glory.

From the way his cock bulged in his restraints a second ago, you were already drooling at the imagination of it, the situation you were in also adding to your excitement, thinking if some weird lowlife creep could be watching the two of you from the dark.

You gave a teasing pump, your fist tightening around his shaft as he bucked his hips into your hand.

This man was definitely packing, your thighs clenching at the thought of it plowing in and out of your throat.

He watched you carefully, adoring the way your eyes glistened in hunger. Reaching a hand to hold it around your own that was wrapped at the base of

his cock, he guided his member along your lips, his other hand still keeping your head in place.

His wet cock prodded at your lips, your willing mouth stretching around him as he slowly pushed in all the way, your nose mushing against his navel as he removed both hands from his shaft.

You gagged around him, the urge to cough burning in your chest before he pushed you off to the tip.

Spit piled up in your mouth, slicking up his arousal, making it easier to slip right back in. Your nails dug in his hips, holding onto him as he rocked shallow thrust into your constricting throat. You tried your best to loll your tongue out, gliding it against the ridges of his member making him hum in pleasure. You began bobbing your head on your own, timing it with his thrusts as you tried to hold your breath in for a bit longer.

He pulled you off his cock completely, letting you catch a quick puff of air before sinking back in, continuing his assault on your mouth.

You slurped around him, a mess dripping down your lips and onto the floor as your spit dripped over his balls.

"That's a good cocksleeve...you really want someone to catch us huh...if you don't I advise you to try and keep the slurping down" he warned, rocking into you with more speed.

You only got louder, purposefully gagging and moaning as he fucked your face.

His thrusts were now timed and fast, each time almost pulling out before slamming back in, giving you hardly a second to time your breaths.

He smirked, biting his lip as he watched you gasp for air each time he blessed you with an opportunity.

His pubes were messy and long, tickling your nose as you closed your eyes, trying to focus on not losing too much air, already imagining his heavy taste on your tongue.

Your jaw ached and your throat was starting to go numb, begging in your head for him to cum already.

You whimpered and whined as he squeezed your cheeks around his cock, the additional friction of his fingers dipping into your flesh and rubbing against his member making him throw his head back.

"That's it, that's a good little slut...come one swallow around my cock, I want to feel you clench around it"

You did as you were told, gulping down around him, drinking in his sour precum and strings of heavy saliva.

You spread your knees, sinking lower, your aching pussy rubbing against the dirty hotel carpet, still fully covered by your pants.

"Oh, you get off on this too much you filthy shit...who knows who stepped foot on that disgusting rug..."

he all but whispered, finally stilling your head flush into his pubes, the veins on his cock twitching before warm liquid slid into the back of your throat, making you gush and cough around his length, him not pulling out until his cock stopped throbbing, only pushing deeper against you as you struggled to stay still.

Finally, he realizes his grip from your locks, letting you detach from his cock with a disgusting mix of a gag and groan. He cupped your chin with his palm, collecting anything that escaped your mouth and pushing in right back in, watching it dance on your tongue as he kept your mouth open.

"Really...I give you my cum and you have the guts to spit it out...what a shame." he roared, collecting some spit in his mouth before adding it to the mix in your own.

"Swallow." And you did, your sore throat hurting from the large gulp you took in.

"I'm gonna fuck you real good...you seem to like that carpet a lot..." he hooked his arms around you, spinning you and then throwing you face-first into the floor.

Your pants and panties are pulled down to your knees, your legs tied together as you brace yourself on your elbows.

"What, Jin? Is my pussy that-" you're tumbling forwards on your cheeks, the rug burning your chin as Twice slaps your ass.

"I don't like it when you talk, toys don't talk" with that he spat at your hole, prodding two of his fingers making your scream in pain, feeling like losing consciousness before coming back to your senses once you feel a weight on your face.

Jin's foot is pressing you down on the floor, his dirty boot mushing your face as he fingers you.

What you don't see is the two dudes on the far end of the hall watching the way your squirm for his cock.

Jin takes note of them, sending them a threatening but a teasing look, purposefully pushing his knuckles deep in your cunt. Your groan out, rutting your hips in his hold as you beg for him to give you more, finally used to the sudden stretch.

"Oh they sure are jealous of me don't ya think?" you struggled to snap your head back and see who he's talking about, the heel of his shoes pushing even harder against your skull. You grind your ass back, giving it a meaningful wiggle to show off to whoever he's talking about.

"C'mon Jin, don't let them wait, they'll think you don't know how to actually fuck" your cunt is filled with one well snap of his hips, not letting you comprehend how fast his fingers left your body or how fast was his hand now wrapped around your neck, both of his knees now settled between your thighs, pushing them further apart so your back arches down, your pants thrown off of your ankles somewhere around the hall.

You hiss at the roughness of his thrusts as you feel a hand covering your mouth.

"As much as I want to hear you scream and beg, you have too much of a bratty mouth to be left alone".  One of his fingers dipped between your lips, letting you bite down on it as he pounded into you, his face never leaving the two intruders as he watched them rub their cocks over their pants.

They don't have the guts. They could never make you feel so good and wanted. They wouldn't know what to do if a delicious pussy like yours hit them in the face.

Both of his hands are on your head as he plows in and out of you, his hips slapping against your thighs, making perfect leverage to bounce against you.

You're trying your best to keep up, your arm reaching beneath youto flick at your clit.

Jin's kinda lost in the way your hips bounce, losing himself in the rhythm as you hear him mumbling incoherent words into his chin.

You don't have the time to pay attention to it, too lost in the way your pussy is being stretched and used.

You heard a snicker from the far end of the hall, a line of disgusting remarks as they whispered about recognizing Jin from the news, apparently "recognizing his disgusting stitched up forehead" comparing him to Frankenstein and other monstrous creatures.

You knew they were just boiling with jealousy, unable to get any as they were left to only masturbate as the two of you literally couldn't wait to enter your room that was only a few meters away.

"Oh I'm fucking you so good, you look really pretty with my cock in your cunt" "I'm so fucking disgusting, they should lock me up and leave me to rot"

He's not looking at those creeps anymore, his mind struggling as his hold on you loosens.

His thrusts are slowing down, your knees trembling as you have to come back down from the intense pace from seconds ago.

You pick yourself up, looking at Jin as he hides his head into his hand.

This must've been what he thought about when he talked about people not helping him fight his fights, judging and mocking even in these absurd situations, not even letting the man fuck in peace.

You reached for his hand, him flinching on instinct when your fingers tangle with his.

His eyes hold panic in them, aimlessly looking around as he bites his lip in order to stop words coming from his mouth.

While you loved being manhandled, what you loved even more is making people feel safe, so you wasted no time in picking up the keys and your clothes, sending a wink at those jerks as you pulled Jim into the room.

"My face, cover my face...it's gonna-" you closed the door behind you, sitting Jin onto the bed as you tried to see what's going on with him.

You sat yourself on his lower belly, leaning down to cup his face in your hands, leaning your forehead against his.

"Sorry handsome, but if anyone stormed in and saw me putting a pillowcase over your face, I don't think they would hold back on calling the cops..."

His eyes struggled to stay closed, his breaths deep and pained. You didn't know this man for long, but there was something really fucked up going on with his head. Your lips caught his, pushing your tongue in his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his back.

"That's good, you're a really tough guy c'mon...open your eyes for me." He did, his pupils trying to adjust to the pitch-black room.

"I know I might be butt ass naked and you literally have your cock out, but I'm willing to listen "

And you do...listening to him remble out all of the self-hatred he feels, degrading himself as he struggles to make sense of the biased sentences pouring out of his mouth.

"I'm only good for a quick fuck, that's the only thing I can somewhat do right" while indeed you really looked forward to getting your guts rearranged, you found yourself involved in this man, deciding to be the first person to show him kindness and passion.

You made him lay on his back, seating yourself between his legs as he covered his face with a pillow, his ramblings never coming to a stop.

"Hey...You're not gonna split, see... I'm right here" you said reaching your arms to place on each side of his hips.

"Have you ever tried doing something that feels good for you...apart from literally fucking my throat...but you know...letting someone treat you?” you asked, kissing along his chest as you awaited his response.

He shook his head no, head poking over the pillow, his mind focusing on your moves.

You nodded, leaving light kisses along his salty skin.

"The reason those assholes kept talking must've been because they were jealous of your ass, I'm sure of it" you stated matter of factly before dipping your head to kiss at his thighs.

"I don't think that's-" "Fuck yeah, I'd eat it myself if I had the chance" you chuckled at his response, wrapping your hand around his length as you dipped your tongue down his balls.

"Yeah...I'll have to agree with the second one...everyone would, if given the chance, how convenient" your wet tongue prodded at his hole, dipping in only slightly before coming back up to his cock, licking up a heavy strip along his veins as you heard him swallow.

You slammed your face back into his ass, moving your hands from spreading his cheeks further apart to grabbing his hips as you pulled yourself into him. Sticking your tongue out you began licking up and down his hole as you continued to grind your face against his backside, reveling in the smell and taste of it.

"Yeah, lick that ass you whore, you take it so well..." his hand covered his mouth in surprise, eyes wide as you looked up.

You were breathing in deep, licking hungrily, everywhere, every inch of his exposed puckered skin, your hand now giving lazy strokes to his cock.

You close your eyes, enjoying the rhythm his body swayed in against you, all but riding your face as he struggled not to speak.

You continue applying pressure with your tongue, getting deeper, centimeter by centimeter. As you are applying pressure with your tongue you press your lips around his ass and make open-mouthed kissing motions, effectively massaging the area around his hole with your full lips.

The pleasure he felt made him feel all that more guilty, eyes squinting as he tried to think.

Maybe he could do it, he's just gonna make one... He won't get lost...he knows who he is...you know who the real Jin is, you have to know.

You feel a light push at your hole, struggling to look back as Jin's hand keeps you squashed against his hairy hole.

"Clones, I make clones" he tries to explain in a hurry, his head buzzing up again once you hum against his crack.

"Ooh that's a pretty little hole, you sure that's for me boss?" a voice quite similar to Jin's sound from being you, rubbing the tip of his flush cock against you.

As Jin doesn't respond, your balance is interrupted, your face suffocating between his thighs.

"Oh she's so tight boss, you sure you don't want some of this?" the clone asks mockingly, his hips snapping forwards with great force, each thrust feeling like a completely new one as he pulls all the way out, making irregular pauses to keep you guessing about when will you get his cock again.

You try to snicker a bratty remark but you don't manage to detach from Jin as the clone begins to shove his heavy cock in and out of you.

"Disgusting little cunt do you have here...it's making a mess of my pretty cock...how filthy" he scolds, his palm meeting with your flesh, stinging sensation burning up through your body.

One of your fingers slips pass your tongue, making Jin's soft walls twitch as you pump the digit slowly.

"Damn boss, you let her play you like that?" the clone mocks, grinding your ass against his dick.

Jin doesn't respond as you push more fingers in, stretching him open as you bounce against the clones cock, your clit pink and puffy since you still didn't get to cum.

Jin's close, his breath hitching in his throat as you abuse the soft patch of flesh in his ass, your tongue still silking up the fingers plowing into him.

Your hand speeds up on his cock, small pumps focusing on his tip as you urge for him to release.

His clone is now still inside you as he looks at Jin, smirking once he sees him spurting ropes of cum into your hand, white liquid pooling in your fist as you continue to stroke him, your fingers pressed snuggly in his hole.

Jin takes a moment to catch his breath, his copy waiting for his orders as he takes your hands away from him.

He finds his place beside you, reaching his hand to flick at your clit.

The clone sets a brutal pace, Jin's palm securing against your clit as you rut into it.

"Yeah, make me cum, make me cream all over, c'mon" you spur them on, fisting the sheets as the bed creeks from the three of you.

Jin watches in aww as you lose yourself on the clone's cock, violently meeting the thrusts and chasing Jin's fingers.

"Good slut, you're gonna cum when I fill up your ass c'mon"

The clone goes feral, his hands kneading and digging into your fat, groaning and praising the way your ass sucks him up, his thrusts sloppy and uneven as he chases his release.

Just as the first wave of warm liquid fills your pussy up, you're clenching down on his cock, Jin's hand flicking in a hurry as he stares at your blessed out face. Your hips are jerking and trashing as the final throb of your cunt ruins the sheets, the clones cock slipping out to stare at your contracting hole, the soft flesh spasming around nothing.

Jin eventually lays down, pulling your body next to his as the clone leaves, rubbing your back in soothing circles.

"I...thanks" he whispers in your hair, reaching for the covers as he drapes them over both of you.

He'll be seeing you again.

i remember telling someone i won't be doing twice soon but...commission is a commission and the idea also caught my attention

___________

Requests:closed

commission:open (1 slot)

Ko-fi link is in my bio💕

[tinyboxxtink]

"Clueless" *Part 2*

I feel bad because I actually have more of this written but if it doesn't end on a cliffhanger, what's the fun in that?

(y'all I can't help but add Tai gifs I'm sorry it's so appropriate 🤣)

Tag List:

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@aprildecker-blog

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@gibbs274

@stars-in-the-skies-world

Part 1

Part 3

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

Rafael walked out onto the massive deck of the house. It housed a giant cabana lined with benches and pillows, complete with a tiki bar. Surprisingly it had not been overtaken by the party...yet.

You followed him into the cabana, where he promptly went behind the bar and fixed himself a scotch.

“What are you drinking?” He asked you.

You didn’t really drink a lot, but you didn’t want to look like a pansy. You racked your brain trying to remember any kind of drink you remembered seeing in movies.

“I’ll have a jack and coke,” You smiled nervously. He nodded and obliged, handing you the drink. You looked at it for a moment; it looked like a normal soda, how bad could that be? You took a big swig.

You were wrong-- it is VERY bad.

You almost choked as the burn of the whiskey fell down your throat, you looked around for napkins or something, praying to God this wasn’t how you were going to die-- trying and failing at impressing the most gorgeous man you’d seen in your life.

“Oh god, honey are you ok?” Rafael grabbed a water bottle and handed it to you. You grabbed it from him and chugged it quickly. Finally after a minute, you could breathe again and fully embrace the humiliation of what had just transpired. You didn’t want to look at him, you must have looked like an idiot choking on a cocktail like a prude. Ariel had taken you to enough parties in college, why hadn’t you practiced this before?

“Yeah I’m fine…” You muttered, staring into the deck floor.

“...Maybe light on the jack?” You could hear the smile in his voice. You looked up to see him holding another coke, with the Jack Daniels bottle in his hand. He ever so lightly splashed some whiskey into the glass and handed it to you. You sipped it this time, barely tasting the alcohol.

“...Thanks,” You smiled nervously, feeling your cheeks burn hotter by the second. Either you were the lightest lightweight on earth, or he made you nervous. You were pretty sure it was both.

“Not much of a drinker, are you?” He kept smiling at you as you shook your head NO.

“...Curiouser and curiouser,” He chuckled as he came back around the bar with his drink and nodded towards the pillowed benches. You followed and sat beside him on one, curling up your knees beside you like a mermaid tail.

“...What is?” You gave him a questionable look, waiting for an insult.

“You and Ariel’s relationship,” He gestured towards the house. “You don’t drink, you don’t party, you’re clearly WAY more intelligent,”

“...I know, she’s so awesome and I’m just--” You started to degrade yourself with a sad smile while pushing strands of hair behind your ear nervously.

“No no no,” He stopped you mid sentence, taking your hand. “Actually I was implying the opposite,”

Now you looked at him in even more confusion.

“I was going to say you’re way too good for her,” He finished with that amazing smile still on his lips.

You felt yourself go light headed; you seriously could not be this sensitive to alcohol, could you? You’d drank before, wine and champagne and what not. Even some jello shots at a few parties, where you couldn’t taste the alcohol at all. THAT was a bad night. But it couldn’t be the alcohol making you feel this way-- it had to be him.

“OH, um--” You snapped your hand back instinctively, any form of social intimacy freaked you out. But you instantly regretted it, missing the feeling of his warm skin on yours. So you fought your neurotic brain and moved it back forward slightly, where your fingers were still touching.

“No, um-- Ariel’s right,” You continued. “She saved me,”

“I highly doubt Ariel’s saved anyone in her life,”

“Hey! That’s my best friend you’re talking about!”

“....Sorry,” He apologized. “I just don’t see what you see, apparently,”

“She has a huge heart, really,” He gave you a skeptical look. “Really!” You insisted.

“Look-- When I got accepted to Harvard, I didn’t know that my scholarship only accounted for the tuition, NOTHING else. So I didn’t-- I hadn’t saved anything for loding,” You sipped your coke as you continued. “So, I begged the housing department for ANY kind of room they could give me, I even offered to sleep in the janitor’s closet!”

A laugh from Rafael caused you to stop talking and look down at the floor, instantly embarrassed again at your sad sack of a life. Instantly Rafael went for your hand again but paused, noting your uneasiness from before.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh at you,” He apologized. No one had ever cared enough to keep apologizing for YOUR lack of self esteem issues, flinching anytime anyone even coughed on you in an aggressive manner.

“No no, it’s fine, I just--” You now placed your hand over his, a feat in your social anxiety ridden brain. “It’s me, it’s not you,” You tried not to stare at your hands touching, but inside you were so proud of yourself and so happy to have his hand touching yours again, it was actually comforting.

“Anyway, um so--” You bit your lip nervously. “So I was just about to-- I don’t even know what, find a homeless shelter or a bridge, I guess,”

Rafael smiled in amusement and chuckled slightly, checking to make sure you weren’t thrown off by it again. You smiled and laughed at the thought of you dragging everything you owned to a bridge on campus to set up camp.

“But Ariel saw me, and took pity on me I guess?” You shrugged. You really weren’t sure of the thought process that went through Ariel’s head that night, you were just so grateful she had been there.

“She asked me if I had a place to stay and I said no, so she told me that she had a suite all to herself and that she really didn’t do well by herself and that she had just been heading to the housing department to ask for a roommate,” You smiled at the memory.

You weren’t entirely sure how true it was at the time, but knowing her as well as you do now, you knew she did NOT do well by herself. She was confident and full of self esteem to everyone else in the public, but when it was just the two of you she seemed almost...sad, most of the time. Like being happy was just the dress she put on to wear in the world.

“....I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Rafael said softly, now slightly regretting how snarky he was towards her most of the time.

“And now I know why,” You gestured towards the house. “That thing about her mom not wanting to ‘deal’ with her, I honestly don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have my parents,”

“Yeah, my mami and abuela are the two most important people in my life,” He nodded in agreement. “And Ariel...well, as far as I know, she’s never had a ‘dad’ stick, and her mom is just…” He paused. “Not really interested in her daughter,” He added with a sad shrug.

“...Your dad didn’t stick either? You asked cautiously, hoping you weren't prying.

“My dad…” He chuckled sarcastically. “My dad was...let’s just say life actually got better when he left,” He looked down. You saw pain and shame in his eyes, and you instantly empathized.

Not so much with the dad thing, but that constant nagging of shame and hurt. Which was totally unnecessary because you actually had the most loving family in the world, which only made you feel more guilt and shame, because you couldn’t appreciate it the way you were “supposed” to. It was just the way you were wired, and they understood that. But it didn’t help sway your guilt.

“He shacked up with Ariel’s mom for a few months and then took off with a LOT of her money,” He clenched his fists of the thought of the trail of destruction his father seemed to always leave behind.

“Luckily, Ariel’s mother didn’t associate myself with that asshole, although I’m pretty sure it’s because she wanted to replace him with me,” He shuddered at the memory of the several times Ariel’s mom had tried to “seduce” him when he was younger.

“Oh God,” You inadvertently made a grossed out face. The offended look on his face instantly made you panic. "Not like, you're gross. Just...she's gross. Hitting on a kid like that,"

"Oh I was ummm.." he chuckled nervously, looking towards the ocean. "I wasn't a kid per say," he coughed awkwardly.

"....How old were you?"

"I think I had just started at my first practice," he avoided the question. "She has a thing for lawyers. Probably becauses around them so often, always divorcing husbands,"

"So like, 28. And her mom was on husb--" You tried doing the math yourself.

"...I'm 15 years older than Ariel," He answered your mental question.

"Oh well, I mean that's cool," You smiled awkwardly. You failed to mention that you had graduated a year early in high school, so you were two years YOUNGER than Ariel.

"Uh huh," he raised an eyebrow with a chuckle.

"I get along with older people anyway," you said, than backpedaled immediately."I MEAN, not that you're old, just--"

"OldER," He kept his amused look at your faltering.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could blame this on the alcohol but I'm just…" you sighed. "Not made to interact with Humans,"

"Aw hey now come on," he punched your shoulder like a kid. "You're doing great, it's really cute," he smiled then realized what HE had just said, and backpedaled.

"I mean, endearing," he found a more suitable word, trying to hide the fact that he was probably a little buzzed and more attracted to you than he probably should be. However he noted the somewhat disappointed look you had when he corrected himself.

"You're probably the first person to think so,"

"Except Ariel, right?"

"She tolerates it, she definitely doesn't think it's 'cute'. She's tried to 'fix' me since we met,"

"Seriously?" "Who does she think she is--?" He started to get up like he was going to give her a "talking to".

"No no no, it's fine Rafael really," You stood up quickly and pulled on his arm gently, making him turn around quickly. You wondered if he had just felt that….reaction between you.

You were far too intellectual to believe in trivial things that people spoke about like a "spark", but in that moment you had to think to yourself maybe they had a point.

"Right, sorry," he nodded and quickly sat down. "I may be a little more buzzed than I thought,"

"No that was really sweet, honestly," you smiled softly. "I probably didn't explain it well," "She just wants the best for me,"

"You're perfect the way you are, Y/N," "I mean, you seem like a good kid,"

"Kid?" You were suddenly offended, though you weren't sure why. You'd always been thought of as a child, being younger than your peers most of your life. Always in higher classes in high school, younger than your college classmates. It had never bothered you before, not once.

But when Rafael called you a "kid", it felt like a gut punch, which made you feel even worse. You just met this guy, what was wrong with you?

"Person," he corrected himself. "I meant person," but the damage was done.

"....I should go check on Ariel, make sure she didn't get herself in a 'situation'," you turned to walk back into the house.

"Hey no wait Y/N, I thought we were--" He started to go after you but you put your hand up.

"No, really. I probably shouldn't have left her alone in the first place," You didn't even grab your drink you just waved your hands dismissively and disappeared back into the party before he could say anything else.

“....I guess I’ll sleep in my car,” He muttered to himself as he headed back around the house.

-----

The next morning Rafael had to leave early to get back to the city, but he had texted Ariel.

"Tell Y/N I'm sorry, and tell her if she has any questions about law to text me anytime, day or night,"

"What did that dick do to you?" She stomped into her bedroom, where you were sleeping.

"What? Your bro-- Rafael? Nothing! He didn't do anything!" Your head snapped up instantly awake.

"Well what's he apologizing for?" She held out her phone; you didn’t have your contacts in so you couldn’t read it.

"...For calling me a kid," You shrugged sadly.

"Oh. Well you ARE a kid, sweets" Ariel instantly dropped her anger into her happy self, patting you on the head like a dog.

"No I'm not…." You muttered. "Did he say anything else?"

Ariel didn't like the idea of that pompous prick getting his claws in you, she didn't like it one bit.

"Nope," she lied.

"Oh," you replied sadly.

"Oh please don't tell me you care what what that bonehead thinks" she scoffed. "He thinks he's some 'big deal' because he has a fancy title,"

"No he doesn't," You instantly defended him, though you weren’t sure why. Weren’t you mad at him? No, actually you were kicking yourself for taking it so hard and just leaving him on the beach. You could have stayed there talking to him all night.

"Oh no, he got to you didn't you?" She acted concerned. "ugh I knew it, I should have warned you,"

"Warned me?" You looked at her confused.

"Yeah, it's what he does," she continued to lie. "He likes to seduce my friends for sport," She continued to spin a web of deceit.

"I...I don't believe you," You mumbled. You had never dared to even slightly disagree with Ariel, terrified anything would set her off and she’d “disown” you.

"Excuse me?” Her head whipped around.

"I don't believe you," you repeated. Her eyes widened with shock at your defiance. She almost lost it on you, before realizing honey worked better than vinegar.

"Honey, think about it," She came around and sit next to you on the bed. "He reeled you in and then called you 'kid'. Probably because you started making heart eyes at him, right?"

"I don't, it wasn't--" You tried recalling every single detail of the interaction.

"See? He just likes the sport of getting women to fawn over him and then move on,"

"But then why did he apologize?" You pointed out, still not sure of her accusations.

"Probably because you're my best friend and he knew I'd kick his ass for hurting your feelings,"

"But--" You were sure it had been YOU who walked away from HIM. But...he didn’t come after you. Maybe he was satisfied with making you upset?

"He didn't ask me to give you his number," she flat out lied. "He obviously didn't want any more contact with you sweetie,"

She had a point. She smiled in victory when she saw the determination and hope in your eyes dissolve into sadness.

"I'm sorry, honey, I should have warned you," she feigned sympathy, pulling you into a tight hug. "Now let's get that skeezer out of your mind," she grabbed your hand and pulled you away.

------

A few days later

Rafael was bewildered that you hadn't contacted him. Did he imagine the connection you two seemed to have? Was he more intoxicated than he thought? No, that wasnt possible. Had he really hurt you that much by calling you a kid? And if so, why? Did you feel something that would hate for you to see her as a kid?

He decided to text Ariel.

"Hey...did you tell Y/N what I said?"

"Yes. She said to fuck off. You must have really pissed her off BRO."

That didn't seem right. That didn't even sound like something you'd say. It sounded like something his evil stepsister would say.

"Did she say that or did you say that?"

"Stay away from my friends, and get your own you perv,"

He knew it. She probably didn't even give you his number. “Oh god,” he thought. What if she hadn't said anything at ALL?

He needed a plan.

[levi-daughter]

Felix NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After everything is done he doesn't really want to take care of you. He wants to go to sleep so tomorrow he wouldn't be tired and can train. But since he loves you he'd do what you ask him to before falling asleep.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him: arms. He trains them a lot to be able to use swords as well as he wants to, so he has strong arms. And he can hold you tight between them, so that's another reason to like them.

On you: hands. He never thought he could fall in love. He's always said his hand was fit for a sword, not for a woman's hand. But then he met you, and fell for you, and holding your hand with his gives sense to everything. He loves to hold your hands, they're fit for his.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

So disgusting. Cumming around and then having to clean, he hates it. But he even knows he can't cum inside you or there may be a problem. So he usually cums in your mouth when you give him a bj or on your belly, but he keeps a tissue at hand to clean it right after because ugh.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He loves to fight with you, it turns him on. He always asks you to train with him and he loves it when you get angry because he has won. Your red and angry face, the pretty mouth he loves so much yelling such swearings. It excites him in a kind of perv way.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

With who? With swords? I don't think that's possible (or safe). No, he had nobody before you. You're his first and last, and he wants to be yours too.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He prefers the valedictorian position. He likes to be in control over you and to fuck you as he pleases while he sees your excited and quite painful expression. That's a big turn on, and this position permits him to do everything he wants. He usually holds your hands during the whole process, interwining your fingers. That's a symbol of his love, duh.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Felix? Goofy? Where? He takes the whole thing serious but there's a thing he really can't help himself from doing. Don't think bad about him, he's just a jerky hot guy looking like a demon, he's not bad. He can't help himself but to insult you. These are the only things he says in bed. He calls you slut and teases you mercilessly.

«Look at you, so red, crying out my name. You want it so badly…! You really are a whore.»

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn't give a flying shit. It's just a waste of time he could use to train to take care of what he has down there. But of course if you find it gross he'll shave. He knows it can be disgusting.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Romance? Nah. Rough passion and a sadistic control freak? Hell yeah! Don't expect anything sweet from him, except the loving stare he always gives you when you two have done.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Nah, never. It's gross and disgusting and a waste of time. And if he's horny he has you so he doesn't see any point doing so.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He's a control freak. He likes to tie you up, sometimes blinding you, and wants you to do everything he says. Not to mention how much he likes when you call him Daddy. Yeah, yeah, he likes control. And he's even a bit of a sadist. He likes to choke you a little, maybe some bites, but nothing too painful, he still loves you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Bed, his or yours it doesn't matter, it's the best place to take you, so he can be in control. But when he wants a quickie, the training grounds are a total yes. Fucking you surrounded by the swords he loves so much? Fucking yes!

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When he sees you fighting. Everytime you have a sword in your hands, or when you're angry at someone, when you seek revenge, when you're determinated, when you have a killing stare in your eyes. Mmh, mmh, yeah, yeah, big turn ons.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn't ever hurt you too badly. A little pain it's OK, but too much is…too much. But if you're not in the mood of feeling the slightest bit of pain he won't do it, he wants you to enjoy the whole thing too, so he'd be gentler.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes giving the most. That way he has you under his total control, wanting him to do more, to keep going, but he decides to do something else, something that will give you more pleasure. He can decide whatever he wants and doesn't listen to your beggings a single time. But with his tongue and long fingers, you always enjoy whichever he decides to do.

But the fact that he prefers giving doesn't mean he doesn't like to receive a nice bj. Seeing you on your knees, pleasuring him, it's exciting. He always pulls your hair and moves your head at the speed he wants. Sometimes he moves his hips too.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He's rought and fast for most of the time, but there are these times when he just wants to torture you and he'd go so slow. It doesn't matter how many times you beg him to go faster, he won't, ever.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't mind them. When he's feeling horny but has no time, or doesn't want, to have real long sex, quickies are a nice substitute. Especially in the training ground, after you two trained together, you nearly always have a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He really just likes what he usually does, and you too, so you don't usually take risks. But if you ever want to he has no objections, and you don't either when it's the other way.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's well trained so he has a lot of stamina. He can go for about 7/8 rounds, but you never do that many. Or you get destroyed after the 4th round or he gets tired and stops after the 5th.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't need them. You have each other and that's all you need while having sex.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Ohhhh, he's the king of unfair. He always teases you, no matter what you do. As I said before he always insults you by calling you slut and so on and teases mercilessly.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not one to moan out loud, but the air is always filled with insults and with your loud moans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

One time you were talking with Sylvain. He wasn't trying to hit on you, you're his best friend's girlfriend he'd never do that. But Felix was still feeling like a jealous bitch so he walked up to you and held your hand. «Sorry, I'm already fucking this one tonight. Go and look for another one.» and he dragged away. He locked the two of you in his room and really fucked you all night long.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well, he's thicc and big, about 18cm/7 inches, long enough to pleasure you reaaaaaallly well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He doesn't starve to do it, so about once a week, sometimes more, sometimes less. It just really depends on his mood.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Before falling asleep he always takes a shower and when he comes back to bed, if you're not asleep yet, he cuddles you for a while, so you both fall asleep together. If you're already asleep he kisses your forehead and lies down next to you, then he hugs you and falls asleep.

Follow me on Wattpad for more.

@Levi_daughter

[dadspeed-appreciationsquad]

Content

Gary isn't used to people touching him. Side hugs, hand holding, it's all new to him.

He flinches almost everytime someone places a hand on his shoulder. Not in a bad way, just in a "oh my crap this is a lot of sensations I'm feeling" kinda way.

Set in Final Space. This can be read by itself or you can perceive it between How Do I Tell Him? And Changes.

~

Gary was used to loneliness. He was almost comforted by the familiar feeling it gave. The empty feeling in his chest that consumed him for most of his life, at least until Mooncake showed up and changed everything. But can you blame the guy? He spent 5 years in solitude and even before that he didn't really have any friends or family to share the occasional "hug" with. Before Gary was imprisoned, he was alone for most of his life. The only person that had shown him any love or affection had died when he was young, too young to really retain what affection felt like.

So his friends touching him was an entirely new experience.

His friends aren't really ones to display affection, they're the type to give an excited hug after a job well done or a pat on the shoulder if you did something good. But they almost never laid a hand on another when an adrenaline rush wasn't involved.

Gary on the other hand, has always been a touchy guy. Pats on the back, arms swung around shoulders, Gary is a very friendly person. He likes to be around people and be close to the ones he trusts.

Sometimes he wonders if he's being annoying or clingy when he drapes himself over Avocato or leans against him, but Avocato hasn't said anything against it, so Gary hasn't stopped. Gary could tell he hated it at first, but he's like a cat. Once they like you, and I mean really like you, they'll seek you out when they want attention.

Gary isn't new to touching people, he's just new to people touching him.

He doesn't mean that in a bad way, he's not entirely uncomfortable with touching. It was more like, something as small as a side hug sent shivers down his spine. Or if someone, not naming names, nuzzled up to him, he'd immediately get weak in the knees, and not in a "God he's so hot I'm weak" kinda way. Him being weird about touch wasn't always based on his attraction. When his mom patted him on the back he flinched away, not because he was upset, it was just. Weird. It was like, it was too much. He would get overwhelmed when someone else touched him.

Was this normal?

It kinda creeped him out to be honest.

One of the only people that were an exception was Little Cato. He felt comforted when he and Little Cato hugged or clasped. It didn't feel uncomfortable or like it was too much. He doesn't know why or what makes him different. Maybe it was the level of trust? No, because he trusts Quinn and he trusted Nightfall. Maybe it was because they had both comforted each other multiple times to the point touching became their way of comfort?

He's not sure.

On the other side, Avocato also wasn't used to touching, which Gary provided a sufficient amount of. It was weird at first, actually it took everything in him to not claw Gary's eyes out when they first met. But as they grew closer, he began to trust Gary. It was different than what he was used to. He was once a highly respected General, he was untouchable. Those under his command could hardly even look at him, not that they wanted to. But now, Gary quite literally drapes himself over him. It wasn't bad, not that Avocato would ever admit that. It's a nice change of pace, and he trusts Gary.

After some time, Avocato began seeking out his touch. He would stand way too close, sit too close, and he even leaned into any touch Gary provided. Avocato would find himself nuzzling into hugs only to deny it if questioned. Gary got the hint after the first few denials. So he stopped asking and just went with it.

Eventually Avocato began to get impatient while waiting for Gary to initiate touches. Gary was always busy doing repairs, counting stock, flying, there was always something he had to do. So Avocato started dishing it out as well.

Which is what induced Gary into a small panic of flinching gasps and small jolts.

It started small, hands on shoulders, brushing hands together when standing too close, and Avocato has even started giving Gary the occasional side hug whenever they were standing next to each other. If Gary was sitting, Avocato would drape his arm over Gary's shoulder. If Gary was standing, Avocato would wrap his arm around Gary's waist. He hardly noticed Gary's odd fidgeting whenever they touched, and when he did, he figured it was just Gary being Gary.

If either of them were weirded out, no one said anything. So the small touches kept happening and more of it.

~

Avocato walked into the lounge to see Gary sipping from a coffee mug. He was leaning against the table, half of his torso on the table. Gary had to tilt his head upwards awkwardly and slowly sip at his drink to not spill it. Avocato smiled and cradled his cup of milk close to him as he walked over.

"I hope you're not drinking coffee at this hour." Avocato placed his cup on the table and sat across Gary, crossing his legs. He leaned back against the booth in a relaxed manner. Gary looked up at Avocato.

"Nope, just some warm milk." He raised his mug and gave a small smile before setting it back down.

"Can't sleep?" Avocato took a sip from his cup and leaned forward. He noticed the bags under Gary's eyes and tried not to frown.

Gary shrugged. "Not really, what are you doing up at this hour?" Although they couldn't really perceive time in Final Space, the Crimson Light had a day and night cycle. Light for 12 hours, dimmed lights for 12 hours. Sheryl was the one currently keeping an eye on piloting while most slept.

Avocato mimicked Gary and shrugged. "Can't sleep." They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying the presence of the other. They both took sips from their drink before Gary smiled deviously. Avocato furrowed his brow.

"So what if we could help each other?" Gary asked innocently, batting his eyelashes. Avocato bit his lip and narrowed his eyes.

"How so?" Gary stood and leaned forward on the table, getting very close to Avocato's face. Avocato was used to this behavior, so he just stared at Gary with a raised brow. He also wasn't too upset about the sudden proximity.

"Sleepover!" Gary moved out from the booth and grabbed Avocato's hand. He dragged him to his room, drinks left forgotten. He tugged Avocato through the halls and to his room.

"Wa-Wait, Gary, I-" Gary opened his door and pushed Avocato in. Avocato stumbled slightly and turned to look at Gary.

"No buts! What better way to exhaust yourself than hanging out with your best bud?" Gary placed his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest proudly.

Avocato rolled his eyes. "I can think of a few better ways." He muttered to himself with a smirk on his face.

"Hmm? What was that?" Gary tilted his head, too into his own world to understand what Avocato was implying.

Avocato simply shook his head. "You want to play cards then?"

Gary's face lit up and a bright smile displayed across his face. It's been awhile since Avocato had seen Gary smile like that.

He tried to ignore the flutter in his stomach.

Gary nodded his head viciously and moved to his bed, grabbing his cards from his nightstand on the way. He jumped on the bed and sat criss crossed. The energetic man-child began to excitedly shuffle the cards as he patted the other side of the bed.

"Are you going to play, or just stand there?"

Avocato walked over and sat across from him. "Of course I'm going to play. I just don't know if you can handle losing."

Gary laughed. "They only thing I'll have to handle is your sore loser attitude!" Gary began dealing the cards. They started with a simple game of SlapJack. Both were very aggressive and competitive. Gary loved playing with Avocato most because he matched Gary's level of aggression in cards, it's not easy to find a partner that can dish it out and take the heat.

They flipped cards over back and forth so quickly a bystander would think it was life or death. A jack appeared and they both slammed their hands on the card, making all the cards on the bed bounce at their violent attack.

"Dammit!" Gary removed his hand and let Avocato take the cards.

"Come on baby, you are trying aren't you?" Avocato purred and gave him a lazy smile. Gary pursed his lips.

"Of course, it was just a warm up round. I wanted to see if you were paying attention."

Avocato laughed and nodded his head towards the game. "Well maybe you should stop staring at me and look at the cards instead."

"It's hard not to stare." Gary's face flushed as soon as he said it. He looked up to see that Avocato was too focused on the game to have even heard what he'd said.

Gary let out a sigh of relief.

Unfortunately for Gary, Avocato had heard him. He just didn't know what to say in response. He could feel his face burning and he struggled to hide the smirk that so desperately wanted to appear.

He looked back up at Gary and eyed him for a moment. His red tank top dipped with the way he was hunched over, exposing some of his chest. He had an intense look on his face as he started dealing cards. Gary looked up and they made eye contact. Avocato smirked and winked at him. Gary looked back down towards the game, his face cherry red. Avocato laughed slightly as they started the next game.

They continued playing another 3 rounds before Avocato stretched out his arms, showing his defined figure through his black undershirt. His back popped and he groaned.

Gary turned away.

"This has been fun but I'm getting a little tired, aren't you?" Gary nodded slightly. They gathered the rest of the cards and sat them on the nightstand. Avocato moved to stand and Gary grabbed his wrist.

"Where are you going?"

Avocato looked at him quizzically and gestured towards the door. "To my room?"

Gary rolled his eyes and pulled him down onto the bed. Avocato landed beside Gary on the small mattress. It was a tight squeeze, they both laid on their sides facing each other, and there was little room between them. Avocato could feel Gary's breath against his cheeks. In the dimmed room, Gary's eyes seemed to sparkle and Avocato couldn't look away.

"It's a sleepover yo, that usually means you sleep over." Gary annunciated the "sleep over" to get his point across with a shy smile on his face.

"I don't know man, I don't think I'll be able to sleep with you snoring next to me." Avocato looked away with a smirk on his face.

Gary flushed and narrowed his eyes. "I do not snore!" He shoved Avocato's shoulder lightly.

"How would you know?"

Gary glared and ignored him. He then sat up and grabbed the blankets that were by their feet. He pulled the blanket up and threw it over the two of them. Gary laid back down, using his arm as a pillow.

Avocato copied him, except his other hand was placed close to his face.

"How are you doing?"

Avocato closed his eyes and let himself sink into the bed. "What do you mean?"

Gary paused. "With everything."

Avocato shrugged. "I'm getting used to it."

"Well I'm here. If you need to talk."

Avocato smiled, eyes still closed. "You're a good friend Gary."

Gary smiled at the familiar saying. "I would've gone with great." He reached up and held Avocato's hand in his own. "But good works too." He closed his eyes with a small smile on his face.

Avocato sighed at the comforting weight on his hand. He squeezed Gary's hand tenderly. Gary expected to feel that same jolt he gets when people touch him. He expected to feel itchy from being so close to Avocato.

But he felt content. He's never felt this way in someone's embrace before. He felt entirely comforted and safe in Avocato's strong grip.

Sleep came easy after that.

[meshugana1]

Could you turn me into an attractive maid? My friends keep making fun of me about how I'm single because of my looks, my shy and timid personality. Plus, I need a job to pay off a bunch of debts.

   My breath grew cold and heavy in my lungs like I had inhaled a block of ice. The center of the room felt like it was dangerous all of a sudden and every cell in my body screamed for me to avoid it. I couldn’t though, this was about personal growth. I wanted to slap myself but that would look really weird. Come on, come on, you can do this Jack. You’re the man, this is easy as pie. The scene played out before me. I had unconsciously crossed my arms as a woman asked a seated man about airfare to the Bermuda triangle. “What do ya want air rates for? We don’t even know if there’s no airports there anyway,” the travel agent said.“Well yes but ships always go missing in there,” she said.“Yeah, but we at least know there’s a couple docks so it’s probably safer.”“Probably? How often do ships go missing there?”“All the time. Every ship we send never comes back.” Come on Jack, jump in.“If no ships ever come back how does your company have such positive reviews?”“Well, no one’s come back to give us a bad one.” The crowd surrounding the pair chuckle and laugh, all but me. I’m still too nervous, a million lines and ideas are all competing in my head and it’s all too much. I’m sure a vein is throbbing somewhere in my head.

   “Hey man, I thought you said you’d get up there tonight? I’m bummed I didn’t get to see you freeze up in front of everybody,” Alan said. He was the lovable asshole that first suggested I come with him to his improve class to ‘break out of my shell’. I was perfectly fine in it, but it still got lonely. It was over nine years since my last girlfriend, and I’m not even sure how that one happened. “Sorry, I just got a little sidetracked thinking of what to say,” I said as I popped two Tylenol to squash the headache I gave myself. “That’s the fuckin problem dude, you don’t have to think in improve. You just do, ya know?” I didn’t know in fact. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t take a weekend off to plan out all the conversations I was going to have the following week. I was always just so scared of saying the wrong thing. “I’ll try better next time, I need to get to my night job or that dick boss of mine is gonna fire me.”“Ya know, I’ve heard you call him dick, asshole, fuckhead, motherfucker, cocksucker, pissant, and douce, but I don’t think I heard his name yet.”“Yeah, I may not like it but I really need the money. I have those student loans I took out remember?” This made Alan laugh, way harder than I thought was necessary. “Oh yeah, you were all set for a law degree and you got kicked out like the first day cause you called some woman ‘the most fuckable MILF you ever saw’.”“Yeah.”“And who did she turn out to be, again?”“The dean, alright? She was the dean.” Alan laughed so hard I thought he was actually choking. Part of me wished he would.

   I waited for Alan to recompose himself, he was the only one of us who could afford a car. I scanned the dimly lit hallway of the rec center. Looking for anything that could take my mind off my friend’s enjoyment of my situation. I saw a worn out cork board on the opposite wall lined with various ads. Better than listening to him choke on my misery. One said there was a snowmobile trailer in like new condition for sale, only $8500. Another advertised an old woman’s piano class, three times a week for only ten dollars a lesson. That was actually pretty good. A bright pink one hidden beneath a wanted poster from 1993 proclaimed the need for a groundskeeper at a country estate and offered to pay a hundred dollars an hour plus room and board. “What!?”

    A hundred friggin dollars an hour? I work a total eighteen hours a day between both my jobs and I barely bring home three hundred a week! “What’s wrong?” Alan said.“This lady want’s to pay someone a hundred dollars an hour to mow her lawn and stuff!”“No way, let me see,” Alan said grabbing the flyer from me. “Oh dude, that’s that old Haderly place like five miles outside town.”“So?”“Dude, she like a shut-in. But from what I hear she’s a total babe and makes all her money from doing cam shows online. No way you can work for a woman like that.”“Wow, I’m not used to hearing you so mature Alan.”“What? No, you can’t work for her cause you’re shy, short, and um, a homely guy. She’s not gonna want to hire you. She probably wants some super stud around to ogle at and get her in the mood. Sounds like a job for me!” Now it was my turn to laugh. He might have had a little nugget of a point, but he wasn’t exactly much better looking than me.“Don’t you dare. If anyone needs this job I do. You make plenty of money at your job.”“Not a hundred fucking dollars an hour. Don’t worry, when I’m loaded and she and I start dating we’ll let you live in the attic or something,” he said with a smile.

   It was an expensive Uber ride out to the property, but one hours wages from this lady would pay it back and more. It was early, the sunrise only just began to blind me as I walked down the path to the house. My fingers traced along the flyer as I walk, I would have called but there was no phone number on it, just this address. The air was so clean and filled with moisture I could hardly believe it. And the yard was nothing less than colossal. I had no idea there were even yards like this in the area. It looked like you had to measure it in acres. It took me nearly thirty minutes to walk it straight down the middle, no wonder the salary was so high, this was a full-time job. I was finally close enough to make out the detail on the ornate wooden doors when I saw another door at the side of the house open wide and a man stepped out. He was huge, built like a brick house and wore a really tight white shirt and jeans combo. He raised a Panama hat to his head and looked over the property with a steely gaze. Was this guy the lady’s husband? Not a second later did he reach back and grab a shovel and rake from the same doorway. Oh shit, was he a groundskeeper? Am I too late? Fuck, no wait. This place is huge, maybe she needs two? Oh please god need two, the ride back is gonna kill my wallet.

   The closer I get the more beautiful the house looks. This might actually be an old plantation home. That would make sense given the size of the yard. I can tell it’s solidly built as I step on the porch. Not a single creak or grown from the wood at all. I take a second before I knock on the door to check my appearance. My shirt is tucked, my shoes are clean, and my hair feels good. Ok, you’ve reversed this a hundred times since last night. Knock on the door, she answers. I say hello and offer a handshake, not too firm. We exchange names, I ask about the job. She asks my qualifications, can’t be too complicated for yard work. She either says yes or no, shake hands again and say thank you. Then I go home and wait for the call. Easy. I turn to knock on the door only find it already open, with a very beautiful woman laying against the doorframe.

   “And how can I help you young man?” she said. Her hair was a light brown color, accented with thin streaks of white. Her face looked beautiful despite light evidence of aging. He skin was still tight, but there was the odd wrinkle here and there. She wore a burgundy silk robe that failed completely at masking her impressive figure. Her hips made waves in her robe as they rested on the bawdy flesh. She looked like an ex-playboy bunny. “Young man? How can I help you?” she said. I hadn’t realized but her sudden appearance had thrown me off. “Oh, um, well,” I said. I fumbled with my hands trying to produce the slip for her. “I, well I was hoping that you could maybe hire me as a gardener. I mean the groundskeeper job,” oh god. I totally fucked this up. She had a questioning look on her face as she grabbed the flyer. “Well first off if you’re begging for a job you should probably lead with your name.”“Right, it’s Jack. I mean I’m Jack,” goddamnit Jack, you totally fucked up.“Thank you, Jack, my name is Irene Haderly. Secondly, I’m sorry to say that I filled that position over two years ago. This is just an old flyer, you probably already saw my groundskeeper, Samson, this morning. He’s more than enough for the property. What I really need right now is a maid. My last one quit about a month ago and it kills my knees cleaning this place by myself. So unless you want that job I can’t really help you.”

   I knew it was too good to be true. I never catch any breaks, I’m gonna be in debt for the rest of my goddamn life. But as she turned her back to me I felt this little ball of white-hot anger in my stomach grow. I was pissed at everything. My shitty apartment, my negative bank account, my stupid shyness, and it just sort of exploded. “Does the maid job pay just as well?!” I said. God, even angry I’m pathetic. But my whiny ejaculation seemed to peak her interest. “It does, actually. Even better, one-fifty an hour plus room and board. You would be expected to live here while you’re employed by me, and there is an appearance code that needs to be followed, are you up for that?” It was even better than I hoped, except for the appearance code. “Um, you’re not going to make me crossdress, are you?” Hell for that much money I wouldn’t even mind. “No, no. Nothing like that. You would, of course, need to sign an agreement, I lose maids so often I would just feel better if you made a commitment to working and living here. Would six months be alright with you?” Six months? At one-fifty an hour? With no expenses? “Could we make it a year? That sounds great!”

   I followed her inside and boy it looked awesome. It was the first time in my life I had an occasion to use the word opulence. I followed her down a naturally lit hallway, the sunlight blinding me on more than one occasion until we reached her office. She removed a simple looking brass key from her robe, it looked kinda heavy but I don’t remember seeing its outline in her clothing. “Now, other than tending to your duties, the only rule of the house is that you are never allowed in this office unless accompanied by me. Is that clear?”“Yes, ma’am.” That’s a pretty easy rule to follow. She handed me a fairly wordy looking piece of paper and told him where to sign. I had finally dotted the last I and crossed the last T, “Alright, ma’am, I think I’m done.” She smiled in a very loving way. “Perfect, now we just need to get your appearance up to snuff, follow me,” she said. This was the most nerve-wracking part. Was she actually going to make me crossdress? She said no but the thought was still chipping away at me.

   I was both happy and confused when she lead me instead of her closet to a side room in her office. It looked like a pantry filled with mason jars. It looked like they were filled with various spices, maybe she made her money with some artisanal spice company. But why bring me here? She looked like she carefully considered each jar, then she reached up and grabbed a small one and dumped the contents into her hand. She brought her hands together and rubbed the spice into her hands repeatedly. She brought her hands close to her mouth as she rubbed and it seemed like she was whispering into it. “Now, this is going to feel a little weird but don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit.”

   What? She lifted her palm to my face and blew the dusty spice in my face before I could ask what she meant. I coughed violently as the powder flew down my throat and into my eyes. “What the hell was that!?” I said trying to rub the powder from my face, oddly enough though, she was right in that it didn’t hurt at all. “Sorry, I thought you read the contract? This was all explicitly stated.” I was about to tell her that nothing in there said anything about getting sand blown in my face, but all that came out was slurred speech. My knees were getting weak too. I didn’t feel any pain at all. But it was like I could feel the little bits of powder burrowing into my body. My vision got really fuzzy but I could feel everything so much clearer. I could feel really big, powerful hands grab my shoulder and cradle me in even more powerful arms. I knew we were walking but I didn’t know where until I was placed on a bed. It felt like little tacks all over my body just scratching the surface of my skin. It was heavenly.

   My whole body felt like the head of my dick when I masturbated. I tried to reach down for my cock but my whole body felt like jelly. Then after what felt like an eternity, it started to die down. I could finally feel how heavy I was breathing and it was like a had weights on my chest. My back was arched somewhat awkwardly too, but overall I just felt a bit out of sorts. My vision was still cloudy, like my contact lenses had fallen out. Without them, I could barely see a foot in front of my face, but I could make out the shapes of two people on the opposite side of the room. One was Ms. Haderly, but the other one took a little thinking before I could recognize Samson’s broad shoulders. “Finally awake I see, well good. You woke up a lot faster than some of the others.”“Woke up? Did you drug me or something? This isn’t some kinda kinky snuff thing you have right? Please tell me it’s not.”“Don’t be silly, you just had to be altered to fit the appearance requirement, and you turned out pretty great too If I do say so myself.” What was she talking about, turned out great? Oh shit, this was totally like the human centipede. In a moment of cinema-induced paranoia, I reached a hand behind me and, for a brief moment, fully expected to feel the face of some other poor guy who got caught in her trap. I did end up grabbing a lot more flesh than I usually did, but it wasn’t someone else’s face.

   It was my own ass, but it felt gigantic. My bottom was, at its apex, a boney little thing that only by the most generous definitions could be called an ass. This thing I had my hand digging into though, this was a real ass. It was curved, meaty, springy and pretty responsive to touch. I could feel the blood rushing all sorts of places as I fondled my way to understanding. Unconsciously my thighs rubbed together, and when they did I noticed a distinct lack of testicular pressure when I did that though. I wasn’t alone in the room but I really had to be sure. With my free hand I reach to my crotch I closed my eyes and uttered one last prayer and tried to grab my dick. Instead, my palm slaps into a flat, slick, cleft.

   I’m not some super macho guy, so being emasculated wasn’t exactly earth-shattering to me but who wouldn’t start freaking out after losing something so important? Other than my ass and my chest my body felt so light and wispy. I felt a rising nervous energy in my toes and I started bouncing on my heels. Ms. Haderly moved to my side quickly. “Now I know this is a shock, I would be pretty flustered too. But let me just explain what’s going on, okay? Samson, why don’t you leave us to some girl time?” He didn’t say anything as he turned around and left. I still teetered on the edge of a meltdown, but if she did this to me she was the only one who could undo it. So I just listened.

   “You have probably guessed already but I’m something like a witch. And you may not believe me but this was all spelled out in that contract, and I wasn’t kidding about the pay scale. Every hour you live here you’ll make one-hundred and fifty dollars, now a young guy like you probably needs cash like that. And this is only for a year. Now do the math, 24 hours a day at one-fifty an hour, you’ll be a millionaire by then.” That stopped me in my tracks. That was so much money it was crazy. “Why do I have to be a girl though?” “That’s just the way the magic works. Aside from the looks, which are much improved by the way, it also comes with the knowledge of how to execute your duties. That and, well let’s just say the job comes with some really great benefits,” she said. Her nails glided along my thigh, and her hand reached and grabbed what I assumed to be one of my breasts. I hope that’s what it was because I still couldn’t see well, and they felt amazing to be held. She moved in closer and kissed me. Her much larger chest pressed into mine and her tongue darted around my mouth. When she separated I didn’t need my glasses to make out the sultry face she was giving me as she licked her lips. “So, what do you think?”

   She led me to my room a half an hour later, it was towards the front of the house on its left side. The room was directly beside Samson’s it seemed. When I stepped in, from what little I could make out, it was huge. It looked bigger than my crappy studio by three times. She guided me over to a bed and for a second I thought we were going to resume what she started upstairs, but instead, she told me to get dressed and start going through the list of chores. I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised by the uniform she wanted me to wear. It looked like a sexy french maid’s costume, but the thing I was excited about was the glasses on top of the pile of silky clothes. I wasted no time or thought in putting them on, and oddly enough they were my exact prescription. The room instantly became clear and I took in its full rustic splendor. A room like this in the city would cost no less than six thousand a month, and it was mine for just the cost of my cock and balls.

   I was nervous as I crept into the hallway in my new uniform, but not nearly as much as I expected or was accustomed to. This was the most flesh I had ever had exposed while still being dressed. My legs were encased in the thinnest white fabric stockings I could have imagined. The air passed right through and stroked my legs as if they were naked. My heels actually confused me in his easy I took to walking in them. They were over five inches tall, and at first glance, I had no idea how I could walk in them without undergoing training. But as my feet slipped into them it felt just like riding a bicycle, and not once did I even buckle in the slightest. The bra and panties went on in much the same way, but the feel of the silk underwear still caused a blush across my body. They were tight and the panties clung to my new sex, creating a slight camel toe. The bra seemed like it was intended to make my, really rather impressive, chest pop and call attention to itself. There I stood, dressed only in my new underwear and heels, like a lot of porn I had watched, with a chest that begged to be touched. I really wanted to, like really really. But Ms. Haderly had given me a list of chores to get to, and if she could do this to me to help my work go easier, then I really didn’t want to picture what she could do when she was mad.

   My incredibly short skirt bounced as I walked the halls and cleaned the rooms, with a feather duster no less. The house was kept mostly immaculate and only required light upkeep. Still, the house was large and the sun was setting by the time I had finished. I had been required to make Ms. Haderly both lunch and dinner, now I hadn’t made much more than Kraft mac n’ cheese for the last few years, but as I entered the kitchen I flitted about like a master chef. Before I knew it I had made her a hearty seafood salad for lunch, and that evening I made her a two-course meal, a simple Caprese salad and a roast beef for the main course. She even praised the meal, saying it was simply delicious. I had no idea magic could make someone so effective at something so complicated.

   Not only the cooking was different, but I seemed to have an intimate knowledge of the layout of the house, and my own timetable, and well…I seemed to just do everything in the sexiest possible way. I don’t think I ever bent my knees once the whole day, always at the waist and displaying my round ass to whoever was lucky enough to be behind me. My walk was punctuated with a side to side thrust of my hips with every step. Whenever I was in Ms. Haderly’s presence I always had my hands clasped in front of my stomach, which squeezed my breasts together making them look even larger. Honestly, I didn’t mind as much as I would’ve as a guy. I wasn’t good looking, not hardly, but now I was hot. Like really hot, and I kinda loved flaunting it. The sun was finally gone and as I returned to my sizable room, I ran into the groundskeeper Samson as he returned to his.

   I had never actually been introduced to him. A few times I saw him through the windows as I cleaned them, he mostly didn’t wear a shirt all day. That was concerning me. Normally I would be jealous of his intense physical fitness, he was as big as Schwarzenegger and as toned as Bruce Lee. I was jealous that I didn’t have his body, just not in the way I normally would be. He still didn’t have a shirt on and his body glistened with sweat and his tanned chest and face were planted with small, light patches of dirt and dust. “Oh, nice to see you awake. I’m Samson. So I guess you’re staying then?” he says. His rock solid arm reaches up and rubs the back of his neck. His body is so toned I can see each individual muscle move when he shifts his weight. “Y..yeah, it’s really good money, ya know?” My thighs rubbed together absentmindedly, feeling much hotter than I thought they should. “Yeah, that’s what drew me here a few years ago. What was your name again?” he said.“It’s Jack, but you can call me Jaclyn if you think it sounds better,” I said, blushing harder than I had for a long time. “That’s a pretty name, suits you much better now. It’ll take some getting used to though believe me,” he said.“Wait, did she…?” I said.“Yup, two years ago. My name was Samantha, if you can believe it,” he said. I very easily could. I moved my hands behind my back and took a few steps forward, hips rolling with each step. “So, did she change everything on you too?”

   Not five minutes later I was thrown on my bed as he used his powerful muscles to strip me bare. I undid his denim jeans with my teeth and his hard cock slapped against my face, the heat of his solid manhood made my glasses fog up. We were just about to get into it when we heard a that clear near the door. It was Ms. Haderly, dressed in the same robe from this morning. I was horny as hell but nervous, terrified I had broken some unknown rule. “You naughty, little servants should know better. You need to wait for your mistress before getting started.” She stepped forward and her robe slid off revealing her still tight and erotic naked body. She joined me on the bed and began to lick and tease Samson’s cock. Her hand was pawing at my supple ass. It was then that I had made up my mind, this was the best job ever.

The end. Hope Y’all like it!

[babyitsatrap]

Guard Duty

Starring: Im Jaebum and Reader

Warnings⚠: Violence, suggested illegal activities and profanities

Genre: Action

As promised we have a Jaebum Fanfic 🎊🎇🎆

[Y/N POV]

I woke up at night and sneaked out of the house. I have a very important mission today and I can't afford to bust it. I was ordered to protect this guy Im JaeBum but from what I heard he is a pretty good fighter himself. But who cares I'm getting paid anyways. I got my gun and knife ready and hid them in my boots. His always at the club at this timing with his gang so it's easy to track him, kind of a boring guy. I sat down and ordered some water. Who drinks water in the club? Shit but I'm on guard duty. I've been sitting here forever and they've never moved from their seat.

[JaeBum POV]

I keep having this feeling that someone is following me and I needed to find out who. It might be a hitman or a spy who is trying to find out our secrets. So I decided to do a test.

JaeBum: Guys, I'll go to the bathroom for a moment.

BamBam: Be careful Jaebum hyung.

I gave him a nod and headed towards the bathroom. The corridor was dimly lit and spacious perfect for a sneak attack. I could hear someone following behind me and sped up. So did the footsteps behind me. I took a quick turn and hid behind some beer cartons. Just then, a figure of a girl came into view.

Y/N: Goddamnit! I lost him.

I ran up beside her and pointed the gun at her head.

[Y/N POV]

JaeBum: No you didn't. Now what are you here for? Who sent you? You have 20 seconds before I blast your head off.

Y/N: Woah woah hey relax I'll talk.

I said while slowly turning around but instead of answering I grabbed his gun and quickly took his gun. I pointed the gun at his head with a smile.

Y/N: Perhaps you should evaluate your attacker's ability next time. You're not that good.

I threw his gun up in the air and made a run for my life. But of course I went back to check on him. Can't afford having my pay check die on me. It's been like that for days. Him going to the club and staying there for the entire day while I watch him 24/7. But today was different. He brought his group of friends and some of his minions to an abandon shipyard. I think they have some deals to settle today if you get what I mean. I mean his a Mafia what could he be selling. Definitely not Barbie Dolls. So I just stayed and observed.

[JaeBum POV]

We have a meet up with another gang today. Well by meet up I mean we have scores to settle and I was more than prepared if shots were fired.

Jack: Oh hey Jaebum.

Jaebum: Hey. I hate beating around the bush so let's get straight to the point.

I took out my gun and pointed it at Jack. His gang members had a fight with some of my boys over territory and his gang members shot my boys down. His minions was quick to react and all took out their guns to get ready.

Jack: Jaebum. Still the same I see always so rash and never caring about the consequences.

Jaebum: The only consequence today is you and your gang dying.

But with a clap of his hand a bunch of guys started to surround us. God I should have expected this. He let out a laugh.

Jack: So let's see you can shoot me now and let everyone else perish or get your knees to beg for mercy.

Jaebum: Mercy? I think you'll be needing that.

I shot a bullet right through his head and his body was laying lifeless on the ground. His minions started firing shots towards me and my gang members which we we're quick enough to dodge. We ran into a container to take cover.

Jackson: Shit! Jaebum hyung we can't hide here forever.

Jinyoung: It's either we find a way out or we die in here.

While we were quarreling over this, the other gang manage to surround the container leaving us trapped.

Mark: We'll have to make a run for it.

Yugyeom: 7 or never stay safe guys.

We charged out of the container and shoot down as many guys as we can. But we we're outnumbered. They had all of us at gun point.

Minion 1: I guess this is it.

Just when he was about to pull the trigger, a bullet came and went through his head.

[Y/N POV]

GOSH! Im Jaebum how many times did I tell you to evaluate your opponent. Seeing that they were in danger I immediately took out my rifle and aimed it at the guy that had a gun on Jaebum's head. I continued shooting down the guys that had Jaebum's members at gun point. Everyone looked scared by the unknown bullets and just started hiding except for Jaebum and his gang of course. Those smarty pants. I rolled my eyes and jumped down from the container. Still holding my rifle I started shooting the other guys down and signalled the rest to run.

Y/N: Time to start running! Move!

JaeBum: Fuck!  Maybe you should evaluate your opponents too.

He said while pointing the gun and shooting a guy behind me. I sent him a smile while we fight side by side and getting rid of the minions. There was a river of blood by now. But we were not phased. I mean we've been in this industry long enough. We exited the shipyard where Jaebum had his car parked. His friends were all safe. Well pay check secured. I started making my way to my motorbike when I started hearing Jaebum shout.

Jaebum: Thanks! We'll get people to clean it up! Care to join our gang?

I stopped in my tracks and turn around. I waved at him.

Y/N: Maybe next time when I have to save your asses again.

And with that I took off with my motorbike. When I reached home, I received a text from my superiors 'Job well done. You can stop with your mission now. ' I suddenly feel sad. I got used to following him around and saving his ass. I can't help but to feel worried for him now. Shit it's just a guy Y/N. He can protect himself. But what if he's outnumbered again. Why am I caring so much about him. I must be crazy. Just when I was having a mental dispute with myself again I heard the window of my room open. And I immediately took out my gun, ready to shoot. But I was shocked by who stood before me.

Y/N: Jaebum?

❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌❌

Jaebum FanFic down!  Woohoo!!! 🎊🎉 Hope you guys enjoy it!!  Feel free to send in request and if you want a part two for this 😉 That's it for now!! Signing off... 🚀

[dmitri-smerdyakov]

I'm Sorry - an Original Story

Okay, so this is the original story that is to be published in the anthology at my university on Thursday – I’m doing a podcast tomorrow at uni to promote it, and I’ll be reading it at the launch on Thursday evening.

This work HAS been looked over and edited by the anthology people – or, rather, they gave me comments and I edited accordingly. This is the story as it shall appear in the anthology.

Other than that, all I can say is…enjoy!

The beer bottle is cold as I rest it against my leg, my hand securely wrapped around the neck of it; a drop of condensation runs down and splashes onto my shorts. The night air is cool and calm around me as I gaze out, out at the beach, out at the ocean, out into nothing; the only sound is that of waves crashing on the sand, washing up treasures for the dogs to find tomorrow morning on their walk.

The porch door opens and shuts behind me; it’s Sarah, and I watch from the corner of my eye as she sits on one of the other chairs on the deck. Her sunny-blonde hair is tied back in a messy bun, her skin brown from hours spent on the beach that overlooks our house; she is so beautiful, even now with bags under her eyes and her cheekbones sunken into her face. She clutches her own bottle of beer and takes a long swig of it after a moment. I watch her neck tilt back, skin that I know tastes of peaches and perfume, and for a second I try to forget about it all…I pretend that it’s just like every other night.

Except it’s not.

Sarah looks out at the beach like I had before she came out, into the vast nothingness of beach and sea. Her bottom lip quivers slightly, and I hurriedly go back to staring out at the beach too because I can’t think of anything to say, can’t think of the words to comfort her.

I wish I could do something to help her – I wish I could do something to ease her suffering. It doesn’t help that I had left that morning’s newspaper lying on the table in my rush to get to work, the one detailing the discovery of disfigured bodies in California – I would pick it up, throw it away, but all of the fight within me has gone. Neither of us say it, but we know the likelihood.

No. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think about him being-

No.

“He’s out there.”

My voice floats, as if it hadn’t come out of my mouth, as if there’s someone else on the deck with us. Sarah does not look at me.

“We’ll find him…I know we will…”

Her face is pale, drawn, tear-stained; her grip tightens on the bottle like it’s a lifeline. She blames herself, she says, but I know that she really blames me. I blame me.

“Sarah…”

My voice is slurred, this is my fourth bottle of beer tonight, and it probably won’t be the last. I just want to forget, to get away, but even drinking can’t numb the pain for long enough.

“Sarah.”

My voice is firmer, and I reach out to touch her shoulder; she jerks away from my touch, like I’ve burnt her, and I can’t help but recoil myself because she’s never done that before. Her face as she turns to me is angry, hurt, worried, and devastated – she is in pain.

“Jack.” She’s warning me. “Don’t. Don’t you even dare…”

In our five years (to the day) of marriage, she’s never spoken like that to me, never told me to stop talking about something, never told me to stop doing something, at least not seriously. We have our jokes, sure, but this is different. The guilt I suddenly feel for attempting to comfort her – and failing when she refuses it – is almost painful.

We’re silent for five, ten, fifteen minutes. She downs the rest of the bottle and then tosses it out onto the beach. She scolds people who litter normally, and I try to follow her example, but now I don’t say a word to her – I let her have one moment of being imperfect. I drink from my own bottle, wishing I knew the right things to say to her.

Finally, she turns to me; she pulls her knees to her chest, feet resting on the seat, and she seems to curl in on herself. She’s like a new-born kitten – a sharp cry from her usual spitfire personality; grief changes everyone for the worst, and in the hours since her son’s disappearance she’s changed into someone barely recognizable.

“I should have stayed with him,” she whispers; it’s to me, though she looks at her own legs as she speaks. “I told him…I told him not to go too far…I just assumed he would be safe, didn’t even think to go with him…”

I put my half-empty bottle on the floor and sigh heavily. “No. I should have…he wanted to help me fix the boats, but…but I said not today. I should have let him come with me.”

Not today, champ, I had told him early that afternoon, trying not to wince when his face fell; Why don’t you go and have a look around the beach? Who knows, you might find something interesting.

He had gone home, probably spoken to Sarah – probably asked her to go with him, to which she had said no – before heading out. He knew the beach like any kid knows their back-yard, he knew not to go out of sight of the house, to stay close to the more populated areas of the beach.

I can still remember the panic when I arrived home only to find Sarah pacing frantically; she had still been in her t-shirt and shorts, not dressed for the dinner reservations I had booked for us at a nearby restaurant to celebrate our anniversary. Her face had been white as a sheet as she just said it over and over again.

Josh is missing, Jack. I can’t find him. I’ve been up and down the beach, talked to anyone I could find, but no one’s seen him recently. Please, Jack. Please. We need to find him! Please!

Forgetting about the dinner plans, I had gone up and down the beach myself immediately, Sarah jogging to keep up, and I’d asked desperately; I asked families, dog walkers, life guards, anyone who was on the beach. I searched the sand dunes, shouting his name, getting cuts on my shins from the spiky blades of grass that grew about a mile down the beach. We searched for an hour before finally returning to the house and calling the police. They, too, had no idea where he could be; eight year-old boys don’t run away like that, not without any belongings or nourishment, not in this heat. They had assured us that they would search for Josh, of course, that he would be added to the list of missing children to find – but I wasn’t holding out a lot of hope.

We never made it to the restaurant.

“They’ll find him,” I tell her, although that’s unlikely. “He’s going to be okay.”

It’s unlikely because he’s not the first child in the area to disappear; he’s the thirteenth - the other twelve are either still missing or they’ve been found chopped up and unrecognizable. The cops have had no leads, no evidence. Nothing for months.

Josh’s disappearance is just the latest in a long-running pattern.

Sarah bites her lip and fiddles with the hem of her shirt; she’s bitten all of her nails down to the quicks. She hasn’t done that in years. “Yeah. Sure.”

It’s all my fault that she’s lost her son; if I had just told him to help me out with the stupid boat then Josh would have been dropped off at Sarah’s parents’ house, Sarah and I would have gone to our dinner, and we would have probably been going for another round in bed. My wife has lost her son because I was too selfish to let him help me fix some crappy boat engine, and I will never escape that.

We go to bed a few hours later, though it’s more out of habit than a need for sleep – neither of us will sleep, not for a long time, not knowing what we know.

As I lie there, unable to drift into a blissful unconsciousness, I stare at the ceiling; I stare at the fan spinning around and around, at the clear white paint, at the tiny dent that’s always been there. Sarah is awake beside me, but we don’t talk. Sometimes it’s better not to talk.

I think. I think of Josh. I think of his smiling, happy face. I think of his ruffled black hair, of the gap in his teeth, of how he laughed at animal cartoons. I think of him and try to hold it together.

I remember the day I met him; he’d been just over a year-and-a-half, and Sarah introduced me as ‘Jack’ – at that point, we didn’t know we were going to get married. I didn’t think much on it, not even when we got engaged four months later and he still called me ‘Jack’. It was fine by me – he had learnt to know me as ‘Jack’, so it would be less confusing to him if I remained as that. When Sarah and I got married, five years ago exactly to this day, he had been the page boy – he had been there for the whole ceremony, and we were just glad he was there with us, that we were somewhat of a family, albeit an unconventional one.

All of a sudden, I vividly remember taking him to school, running his lines for the school plays that I later had to go to, taking him to soccer practice. I was like a dad, but not a dad. It didn’t really become an issue – it was just the way it was. It was life; it wasn’t really something to dwell on, and I just counted my blessings while they were still there.

Roughly a year ago he had asked to call me ‘dad’. “I’m sorry, Jack,” He apologized profusely whilst Sarah turned to look at him in surprise. “It just slipped out.” I had told him it was fine – that if he wanted to call me that, then by all means he should, and if he wanted to keep calling me by my actual name then that was fine too.

He was well-aware I wasn’t his real father, well-aware that his actual father hadn’t been a very nice man and that his mother had left before anything bad could happen to him when he was a baby. His real father had been a drunk – we had gotten a call from a solicitor shortly after Josh’s fifth birthday saying that he’d died of some alcohol related disease. Sarah didn’t attend the funeral, instead just sending enough money to cover the cost of a coffin and burial plot. I didn’t blame her – I had first met her through mutual friends just a few weeks after she had left him, and I’d seen the bruises. She still had a scar from the surgery she’d had to fix internal bleeding caused by him throwing her down a flight of stairs.

I never did care to learn his name – it was always just him.

Sometimes I had been ‘Jack’ – but more and more often he had taken to calling me ‘dad’ instead. I remember now that Josh had called me ‘Dad’ before I sent him away.

Come on, dad, I promise I won’t get in the way!

I feel tears sting my eyes and wipe them away silently. Dads are meant to protect their children, and I haven’t done that. I do not deserve the title Josh gave me. I’ve let my step-son down, and I’m going to have to live with that for the rest of my life.

I’m sorry, Josh. I am so, so sorry.