#I know this is more of a Jay for Bob bit

[wats-am]

Lester: *Enters Mooby’s before Deacon* Lester: Get ready, here comes the most specialest boy, ever! If you don’t cheer and clap for him, I’ll fucking blow this whole building up!

[shariasweet]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝐹𝓾ck y𝓞u 𝐛e𝐭𝓣er.ᐟ

s.jaeyun 𝒙 f.reader

𝓦c :::  5.9k   𐙚 𝓢harinote ::: this is like a play on my old roommate jake fic... I miss lilmashae bad smts y'all :(   𐙚    warnin𝓰.ᐟ ::: roommate jake is superrr annoying & hardly considerate · multiple orgasms · teasing · oral (f) · cowgirl - missionary - all the positions · soobin (txt) mentioned (small suggestive scene with him?) · a little bit of dry humping · teasing · fingering (f) · slight degradation (he says something about her being in heat... that's it :/) - praise (jake confesses(?) mid-fuck) · unprotected sex - implied creampie - etc.

each night was worse than the last... every night—they got louder and louder... each girl seemed more desperate than the last.

none of them could top jake though.

you didn't know who had it worse... you, or them.

on one hand, he'd wear the poor girl's out, from late at night to sunrise he’d be fucking them to the hilt. but on the other... you had to hear it—their unbelievably loud pornographic screams and yelps. every. fucking. night.

the audacity of him... only a man so desperate, so shameless could face his roommate (or anyone) with such nonchalance knowing what he gets up to. you pinched your temples hearing the giggles trailing off behind the slam of your apartment's door. about time. his bedroom was one thing—but the living room? oh you couldn't wait to stick it to him…

"you look like shit." you groaned finally stepping foot outside of your bedroom, squinting your eyes at jake's smart remark. your roommate was undeniably handsome... which you take it he must be painfully aware of by the way he parades around barely clothed even after whatever 'lucky' girl has left.

with his stupid toned abs and honey skin... his gorgeous hair—face and his nose... god, that nose… not that you were staring, or into him or anything, but you’re just so sure his nose would nudge up against your—

"i wonder why..." playfully you lifted your hand to smack him on the side. "ouch! seriously? you're not really upset are you?"

"me? no way, but i do feel bad for that poor girl who just left." you grinned. "oh yeah?" jake leaned against the counter beside you as you stretched out for the cereal on the top shelf—only for him to grab it first. "thanks..." you took the box from his hands, emptying it into your bowl before spinning around to dip into the fridge.

"and yeah, you just about wore her out... this might be a new record," you scoffed. "even for you."

"it couldn't have been that bad, not as bad as last week when—"

"so you are self aware then?" you interjected, fixing him with a deadpan stare as you poured your milk. "i guess i am." the man chuckled, it was low—almost teasing as he resumed his spot against the counter.

silence settled between you as you focused on devouring your breakfast of fruity pebbles, but you could feel his eyes on you—carefully watching the way your spoon disappeared past your lips with each bite as his throat bobbed. "do you want some?" you arched a brow, ever so slightly smiling as you sauntered toward the dining table.

"nah," he said, shaking his head. "i'm heading to the gym. hoon wants to squeeze in a few arm workouts before his game tonight." "cool," you nodded, casually glancing at the clock above the door. 11:00 am.

"you coming home? or are you going straight to work after?" you watched as he turned around to face you. "i'm off," he shoved his hands into his pockets. "i’ll probably hang at hee’s with jay afterward though." you nodded again, and this time, your roommate disappeared into his bedroom—assumably to get ready for his ‘gym-date’ with sunghoon.

it was perfect.

if jake was going out with heeseung, he’d be gone for hours—five or six, easily. and if today was like any other saturday between him and sunghoon, their stupid little gym session would last around two hours.

you did the math in your head—jake’d be gone for a total of eight hours, leaving you home alone for… well, all day.

while your roommate might’ve been lacking in the shame department, you weren’t.

you were far more… modest than jake. though, your friends called it sneaky… regardless, you weren’t nearly as prude as jake believed you to be.

you didn’t hesitate to scurry back into your room after finishing up your breakfast. you’d slammed the door shut, heart pounding with anticipation as you snatched up your phone to fire off a text to soobin.

god, it’s been way too long.

normally, you’d be able to see him at least twice a month… but lately? who knew what was up with jake. he’d been impossible. every night, it was a different girl, loud and attention-seeking.

and when he wasn’t tangled up with some random frat-party hookup, he was hogging the apartment—sprawled out on the couch, glued to his game with heeseung, or buried in textbooks at the dinning room table. which, truthfully, wouldn't be a problem... if it weren't for soobin's four roommates.

point was, there was never a moment of privacy… nowhere for you and your fuck buddy to do what you did best—hook up. not with jake taking up every damn inch of the apartment… and certainly not with soobin’s four roommates lurking at every corner.

y/n: soobin ^_^ y/n: wyd later? 11:38 am

sb: hey y/nnie :)) sb: i should be free... what's up, pretty girl? 11:40 am

y/n: my roomate'll be out til late... want to come over? 11:43 am

s/b: yk i do s/b: i'll see you in an hour? 11:47 am

y/n: sounds good, soob :3 read 11:51 am

you grinned to yourself, feeling content.

finally.

you deserved this—maybe even more than jake did. he got his fill on a near-nightly basis while you’d been living in an unintended dry spell for months... though that was about to end.

lost in your thoughts, you hardly even registered the knock on your bedroom door until jake’s voice cut through the silence. "i'm heading out, y/n!"

"alright!" you called back, gnawing on your bottom lip as you listened for the soft click of the front door.

it really has been way too long.

soobin hadn’t been over in what felt like ages and the state of your apartment was proof enough of that... but cleaning was easy though—especially with the adrenaline of your pending dick-appointment practically buzzing through your veins.

fueled by anticipation, you breezed through each chore... from wiping down counters to fluffing pillows, and even lighting a candle to set the mood for the evening. before you knew it, you were in the shower, steam curdling around you as you carefully shaved your legs, scrubbing your skin until it was baby-smooth...

you froze with your heart pounding in your throat.

knock, knock!

with water still dripping from your skin, you heard the sound echo through the apartment. an hour had seemingly passed in no time, with your towel engulfed around your body, you peeked your head out from behind the bathroom door, "just a second!" you could hear soobin's muffled voice behind the thick wood of the door. "mh, take your time!" he called back.

quickly, you patted your skin dry, slipping into a pair of sweatpants and tugging a tank top over your still-damp hair.

finally, after a glance in the mirror, a couple spritzes of perfume, and a deep breath, you skipped out of the bathroom, smoothing your hands over any wrinkles in your shirt before swinging the door open.

"hi." a smile tugged at your lips, glancing up at the tall male in front of you—he looked even better than you'd imagined. whatever built up frustration you had burning in your stomach was begging to be let out. soobin chuckled, reaching out to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear. “your hair’s wet.”

“oh! yeah, just got out of the shower.”

his grin widened as you stepped aside, inviting him in. “good to know.” he chuckled as he waltzed in behind you.

awkward as it may have seemed, it wasn't that way for long—the two of you exchanged in small talk before deciding to turn on a movie, casually catching up like friends rather than… whatever label some people might slap onto your arrangement. “how about this one?” you suggested, scrolling through the endless movie options presented before you.

soobin groaned dramatically, though the arm draping around your shoulders suggested he wasn’t all that bothered. “seriously? that one?” “yes, that one.” you scoffed, leaning into his chest. “it’s not like we’ll actually be watching it anyway.”

a smirk played on his lips. “i guess you’re right.”

without anymore time to think, his lips crashed onto yours. the plush of his lips molded against your own at a rhythm unique to the both of you. you found yourself straddling the brunette as he deepened the kiss, your fingers threaded through his hair, his own hands pawing at your sides whilst you grinded into him. "f-fuck." you sighed into his mouth, pleasure winding tight in your core.. you dove into his lips once more, this time your tongue flicking against his bottom lip, coaxing his tongue out of his mouth to intertwine with your own. it felt timeless—kissing soobin.

but unfortunately, time was in fact relevant.

thirty minutes had passed, you and his lips entangled, never neglecting one another as you were completely into one another. "’want to take my time with you, yeah?" he groaned. "s'been so long, 'want to go slow." he murmured against your skin, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

you squirmed, nodding as your breath hitched. “yeah…” it was a shaky exhale—your hips pressed against his growing bulge.

looking back, you’d wish he never said that, because a quickie would’ve saved you from what happened next. neither of you heard the oh-so-soft click of the front door.

and neither of you saw jake standing there, watching—observing—as you kissed soobin like your life depended on it—his eyes bright with amusement as his ‘prude’ of a roommate frotted all over some guy.

"ahem…" he cleared his throat—nothing.

he'd decided to try once more, "ahem," he leaned against the entryway, bag in hand as he toed off each of his shoes.

both of your heads snapped toward him, your heart plummeting straight into your stomach, noticing his shit-eating grin.

“y/n, i just left my change of clothes. i’ll just dip in and grab them, cool?” heat crawled up your neck, your mouth suddenly dry as you scrambled off of soobin’s lap. “y-yeah,” you stammered, cheeks burning up. “fine by me.” soobin added, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

you wish he wouldn’t have said that either.

the two men exchanged small nods, soobin softly waving as jake rushed past. but before he left—because of course, he couldn’t leave without making it worse—he paused at the door.

"i have condoms if you guys need…. i keep them out," jake paused, "just in case, y/n you know where they are." he chuckled, running back out the door again.

you were so embarrassed... if embarrassed were even a strong enough word.

why… why would jake say that—fuck, now it sounded like he kept them out just in case you two ever wanted to… to… damnit.

soobin left soon after your run in with your idiot roommate. he’d tried to play it off, as did you. you both forced a tight-lipped smile as he pulled on his shoes, but you weren’t stupid. you saw the way soobin’s eyes darted toward jake’s room, the hesitance in his voice when he said, “i’ll, uh… i-i’ll text you later, yeah?”

which he didn’t. you don’t blame him.

you’d sat there for a while after he left, silently replaying the moment over and over in your head—cursing jake each time. it was unfair.

the way he’d get laid every night and the way you’d just let it happen… as loud as he was if you really wanted to, you could complain; you could give him some lecture about the ‘shared space’ of your apartment, or respecting each other’s boundaries. but you never did.

the way soobin’s face had shifted when jake made that comment, how he’d suddenly withdrawn, as if realizing he wasn’t the only one in your rotation. except he was. it haunted your memory even now.

what normal roommate kept condoms out just in case? what kind of guy made a joke like that so casually, with no concern for how it might sound?

jake fucking sim.

your anger simmered all evening… not only had you been cockblocked, but you were too upset to even finish getting off, not that your useless little fingers would be any help anyways. and on top of that you couldn’t even bring yourself to text soobin to clear things up.

so instead, you did what you did best when you were pissed off and alone—you curled up into a ball on the couch with a blanket, turning off all the lights and letting the glow of the tv drown out the silence as you soothed your raging frustration by lazing around.

you weren’t sure how much time had passed before you heard the front door click open yet again. jake… you mentally groaned, facepalming. he stepped inside, the soft thud of his gym bag hitting the floor was the only sound filling the apartment. you didn’t move.

he walked past the couch, pausing when he spotted you curled up there in the dark, the flickering light from the tv casting shadows across your face. he sighed, running a hand through his hair before turning toward the kitchen.

a few seconds passed. a cabinet opened, then closed. then, finally—“are you really upset about earlier?” you ignored him, eyes glued on to the screen. “c’mon, y/n.” his voice seemed closer now. you could feel him standing behind the couch, hovering over you. “it was just a joke… you know how i am—how we are..”

your jaw tightened. “was it a joke, jake?”

“obviously.”

“yeah, well, soobin didn’t think it was very funny.”

the room felt smaller, the space between you and jake charged with something you didn’t want to acknowledge—a heavy tension—something sharp, electric, and just wrong enough to make your pulse stutter.

if either of you made a wrong move—you might explode.

he was quiet at first, and for a second, you thought maybe—just maybe—he was going to let it go. but this was jake. and jake never let things go. you know that better than anyone. then, just as you expected, he scoffed. “so? that’s his problem, isn’t it?” you whipped your head around so fast, you nearly gave yourself whiplash. “are you serious?” your voice cracked, the anger boiling in your gut curled tight, threatening to spill over. his problem? his?

jake just blinked at you, his expression unreadable, like this was nothing—like you were making a biggg deal out of nothing.

“what? if he really thought we had something going on, that’s on him. it’s whatever.”

“it’s not whatever, jake!” you spat, turning around to face him, fingers digging into the blanket settled on your lap as your anger spilled over. “you have girls over all the time.” you exhaled sharply, your frustration growing as your stomach bubbled with rage. “every. single. fucking. night. i’m so—god, i’m so pent up. i can’t even invite my fuck buddy over without you interrupting or making some stupid remark like an immature asshole.”

he rolled his eyes, shifting back against the couch as though he couldn’t be bothered to care. “oh, come on—”

“no, jake. just go away.”

but he didn’t. of course, he didn’t. instead, he exhaled dramatically, walking around the couch before slouching down beside you, arms crossing over his chest. his body radiating heat as his presence swallowed up the space between you. you were hot—pent up and breaking down in glittering rage. “so that’s it?” his voice was quieter now, lower… more tedious.

there was something sharp underlying beneath his words, something you couldn’t quite place. you frowned, already exhausted by his antics. “what’re you—”

before you could finish, his fingers gripped your jaw, tilting your face to face his. your breath hitched. jake’s hold wasn’t rough—he wasn’t hurting you—but it was firm. demanding.

his thumb brushed the curve of your bottom lip, his eyes darting between your own and reading your face as he murmured, “that’s it?” his voice was sharp, dripping with ridgidness. “you just wanted a quick fuck? that’s it?” he let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “hah… seriously.”

tears swelled up at the corners of your eyes, shame settling in your stomach. yeah. you did… more than anything in the world—you wanted a searing hot orgasm, a quick fuck, to get off… anything! but hearing him say it out loud made it worse—it made your reality of being denied something so simple even more real.

jake ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard before glancing at you again. “baby,” he drawled, voice thick, and almost condescending. “i could’ve done that for you.”

you froze. “w-what?” your tears seemed to dry themselves, shock washing over you as your bottom lip jutted out into a pout.

he smirked, and something about the way he was looking at you made your skin prickle with heat. “if all you wanted was some stress relief, i thought you’d know me of all people wouldn’t mind.”

his fingers traced along the line of your jaw, featherlight, as he teased you… “i mean, look at you.” his voice dropped an octave lower, his breath warm, fanning against your supple skin. “shit, you’re so fucking pretty—even now… crying because you’re all frustrated over some mediocre dick.”

jake cocked his head, thumb dragging slowly across your plump bottom lip. “not only could i fuck you, y/n,” he murmured, “i could fuck you way better than that guy ever could.” his tongue darted out, wetting his lips as he leaned in just enough to make your breath catch in your throat. 

“when i’m done, you won’t even remember your name, princess.”

a familiar warmth flared in your stomach, and you hated the way your body reacted, the way your breath stilled, the way your thighs pressed together before you could stop yourself.

jake noticed. of course, he noticed. and god, the look on his face said he was going to make you regret it… the yelling and the back talk.

you barely had time to process anything else before his lips crashed into yours.

it wasn’t a soft landing… it wasn’t sweet. it was hungry—fierce. his hand slid from your jaw to your neck, pressing just enough to make your head spin, tilting your chin up so he could deepen the kiss.

his tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing your mouth open until you had no choice but to let him in… no choice but to let his tongue explore your mouth and tangle with your own muscle. you whimpered against his mouth, gripping the fabric of his hoodie in a weak attempt to ground yourself.

he took that as encouragement, swallowing your muffled moans as he shifted closer, his knee pressing hard against your clothes cunt as he wedged it further between your thighs, his body caging you in against the couch.

jake was everywhere, all-consuming.

he kissed you like he meant it, like he had something to prove, like he knew you’d been thinking about this just as much as he had. and fuck, maybe you had. maybe that was the worst part. his words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. he could fuck you better… you knew it and he knew it.

and even if you didn’t, you’d heard the way those ditzy sorority girls mewl and moan while he fucked their brains out… plunging to deep into their squelchy little cunts it makes them dizzy.

you should’ve pushed him away, should’ve said something—anything to shut him down. but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were drunk.

because jake was still looking at you like that, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you, like he was daring you to break the kiss first… which you couldn’t. and maybe it was the weeks of pent-up frustration, the way his voice sent a sharp, burning ache straight between your legs, or the fact that he was so close you could feel the heat radiating from his skin—but you broke.

you surged forward, fisting the fabric of his hoodie as your lips crashed against his once more, all teeth and desperation whilst your hips grinded and bucked against his clothed thigh.

“you’re like a bitch in heat, baby.” he laughed.

god. you hated him. you hated how easily he took control, how good he felt, how your body melted under his touch like you had always been meant for this. he bit your bottom lip, tugging slightly before pulling back just enough to look at you, lips swollen, breathing heavy. his fingers brushed against the bare skin under your shirt, just barely, but it was enough to make you shiver.

“see, princess?” he murmured, dark and teasing. “i told you.” his lips ghosted over yours again, barely touching, waiting… waiting for you to lean in, expecting you to fall right into the trap he’d laid so perfectly.

“whatever,” you swore. “just fuck me already.” you frowned, bruised lips on display for him. jake could feel his cock chubbing up behind the fabric of his shorts, creating an obvious tent in his pants. If it were up to him—if you were anyone else… he’d listen.

he’d skip the foreplay and fuck you because god, how could he not ravish you? especially when you’re… well, you.

jake’d had a crush on you since you moved in… of course, you were usually tempting—big eyes staring up at him all cutely with your lips all pouty, all the time. but especially now, more than ever, when you were beneath him whimpering—begging for him to fuck you with your hair tousled all over the place and your eyelids heavy..? he’d be crazy not to savor every moment.

“fuck, y/n… let me take my time with you, yeah? show you all you been missing.” his fingers crept along your nape. “you have no idea…” his lips ghosted your skin once more—traveling further down your neck as he placed sloppy kisses down your scorching skin. “god, everytime i fuck one of those girls i wish it were you.”

your hips buck—chasing the friction of his thigh as you gasp… his confession leaving you stunned. jake’s hand slips beneath your shirt, cupping your breast through the fabric of your bra and prodding around, feeling for the peaks of your nipples.

“s-shit..” you gasp, squirming beneath him, feeling the cool air waft against your skin as he peels your shirt from over your head. “yeah? feeling foggy already?” he coos, “lift up,” he instructs. “wanna see all of you, ‘lemme take this off, pretty.”

his slender fingers nimbly unclasp your bra—-your tits spill free, the mounds of your breast perking up beneath the chill of the air as you carefully fall onto your back. jake’s breath hitches—caught in his throat at the sight of your bare body. “so perfect… just how i imagined.” he continues his assault—kissing down your collarbones until the plump of his lips reach your boobs.

immediately, they latch onto your nipple, he gropes your other breast in his left hand—pinching and rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. “oh… a-ah! jake…” your hands tangle into his hair.

jake groaned against your chest, teeth grazing the tender skin as he switched sides, giving your other nipple the same eager attention. you writhed beneath him, the wet heat pooling between your thighs making it impossible to stay still.

“god, you’re so sensitive,” he murmured, voice low, laced with admiration and pure hunger. “what else makes you squirm like that, huh?” your silence isn’t enough for him as he softly bites at your chest. “shh,” he hushes you. “it’s okay, you can’t talk sweet girl, i’ll just find out myself, hm?”

his kisses trail downward, slowly and deliberately he nips at your ribs, dragging his tongue down your stomach. each movement coaxes a soft whimper to rip from your throat. you could feel every breath, every graze of his lips, and it was driving you insane.

once jake reaches your waistband, he glances up, catching your gaze—his eyes dark, feral.

“bet you’re soaked already,” jake muttered, his hot breath fans over the flimsy fabric of your panties and he smirks when your hips arch off the couch involuntarily, chasing his mouth.

“knew it.” he grins wide, without breaking eye contact, he dips his head… mouthing over the damp spot of your panties clinging to your core, letting out a filthy moan as he licks a stripe up your covered pussy like you were the one ruining him. then, with such a delicate slowness, he hooks his teeth around the band of your panties, snagging the fabric with his canines.

“let me get these off,” he murmurs, voice reverent, muffled slightly by the fabric. “been wanting to taste you for so long.” he groans. all you can do is nod. you choked out a gasp as he dragged the lace down your hips with his teeth—agonizingly slow. his hands guide them down your thighs as he goes, hands hooking underneath your thighs as he parts them gently, slotting between your legs like he belonged there.

“fuck, y/n… look at you,” he whispered, voice ragged. “so pretty like this… so mine.” he breathes against your leaky, fluttering cunt.

jake didn’t dive in right away—that would’ve been too easy. instead, he takes his time—lips brushing over the soft skin of your inner thighs, tongue flicking out just enough to make you twitch.

he takes a deep inhale like he’s memorizing the scent of your aching core. “you don’t even know what you do to me,” he muttered, he strains— his voice is thick with need. “look at you—already shaking, and i haven’t even tasted you yet.” that oh so perfect nose nudges against your clit, giving you a taste of heaven—a taste of everything you knew you’d needed.

your hands curl into the couch cushions as he finally pressed a kiss to your slit, he dips his tongue into before pulling out, licking a slow, lazy stripe up the full length of your cunt. your breath caught. “f-fuck—jake…”

he groaned like the taste of you was better than anything he’d ever had. “god, you’re dripping,” he rasped, tongue flicking over your clit, teasing it with little kitten licks that had your thighs clenching around his head, yet his strong arms clamped you down.

jake just hummed, gripping your hips to hold you open. “don’t run from me now,” he grinned against your skin, “you wanted this, didn’t you? said you wanted me to fuck you…” and then he devoured you.

no more teasing, or holding back—his mouth latched onto your clit with a practiced precision, his tongue circling, flicking, sucking on your labia like he was starved… one of his hands slid down to press two fingers against your entrance, easing them in as his mouth worked your clit like a madman.

“ohmygod! f-ffuck thank you… thank you!” you cried out, back arching off the couch, moaning his name like it was a sacred chant. “fuckfuckfuck—jake—oh my god—jakejake… ohhh..” his fingers curled inside you, scissoring to stretch your tight cunt out wide… finding that sweet spot with ease as he moaned against your clit, the vibration making your whole body jolt in pleasure.

“you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he murmured, voice muffled by your pussy squelching and sobbing against his face. “wanna feel you fall apart on my tongue.” your vision blurred, hips grinding against his face on instinct. you were close—so close—held right at the edge by his relentless tongue and the way his fingers fucked into you, soaking wet and obscene.

he looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny with your slick, pupils blown wide and the tip of his nose snug against your pelvis. “be a good girl… cum on my face, y/n.”

and with a final suck, he sent you tumbling over the edge.

you came—loud, trembling, toes curling as your orgasm crashed through you. yet jake didn’t stop, he didn’t slow down. he lapped up every drop as you rode out your first high. he was greedy and thorough, tongue dragging through your slicked-up, spit-glistening folds as your thighs trembled around his head.

“shit…” he panted. “you taste even better than i imagined… ‘got such a sweet cunt.” jake barely gave you a moment to breathe.

you were still trembling, thighs sticky with slick and overstimulation. the wet spot beneath you on the couch was still there when he rose above you—eyes lingering over your marked body, shaking, lips glistening with drool. his hoodie was already being shrugged off with one hand.

“still with me?” he murmured, voice almost too soft for how entrancing he looked towering over you. you nodded weakly, eyes foggy and fucked-out. that was all he needed. “good.”

in one swift motion, he pushed down his sweats and boxers… the material pooled around his ankles as he yanked you close to the edge of the couch. his cock was springing free—hitting flush against his stomach, thick, red, and already leaking pearls of precum. you barely had time to take in the entrancing curve of his cock, before he was crawling back over you, grabbing your thighs and lining himself up with your soaked entrance.

“gonna fuck you now, pretty girl,” he muttered, his tip slipping through your folds, dragging slick over your overstimulated clit, slapping against it just to make you whimper. “and you’re gonna take it—every inch.”

then he slammed in—bottoming out immediately. you cried out, “oh my! fuck, please!!” head falling back, back arching as he split you open—no warning, no teasing, just pure and raw.

he buried himself to the hilt with one brutal thrust… already fucking into you before you could adjust. “shit,” he hissed, his jaw clenched tight. “you’re so fucking tight…” jake swore, his balls slapping heavily against your ass.

your nails raked down his arms, clinging to his biceps as you tried to adjust, your body burning from the stretch, the sting, the overwhelming fullness…

he pulled out halfway, then slammed back in—again and again, restless. he was relentless… pacing his hips to snap into you fastly and unforgiving. the sound of skin slapping filled the room, mingling with your lewd moans, and the wet drag of his cock through your cunt was absolutely filthy. “look at you,” he grunted, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to meet his gaze. “already fucked dumb from my tongue, and now you’re letting me ruin you. that what you wanted, huh?”

you could barely speak—just nodding, gasping, whining his name as he fucked into you like he was trying to mold your body to his. you babbled broken sentences, too dumb to speak straight from his cock wrecking you.

“yeah, that’s it,” he growled, “take it—fucking take it.” one of his hands slipped under your thigh, pushing your leg up to your chest as he folded you in half, the new angle making you scream. his bulge fucking through your stomach as one of his hands firmly pressed down. he hit something deep buried inside of you and you swore you saw white.

he didn’t let up, driving into that spot again and again like he knew exactly how to break you.

you were incoherent now, reduced to nothing but nonsense and spit spilling from your lips, your second orgasm already building fast, it was impossible to stop. “come on, baby,” he panted, fucking you harder, rougher. “wanna feel you come on my cock—milk me dry. milk my fucking cock.”

and when he reached down and rubbed your clit with his thumb—fast, ruthless—you shattered. again. your entire body clenched, back bowing off the couch, a sob of his name ripping from your throat as you came hard. you clenched around his shaft, walls fluttering around his cock, sucking him in even deeper as his tip kissed your cervix. jake groaned, stuttering in his thrusts, burying his face in your neck. “fuck—fuck, y/n—i’m gonna come—”

he drove into you one last time and came with a loud, broken moan, hips pressed flush to yours as he spilled inside you, hot and thick spurts of cum gathering around the base of his dick as his load leaked from your throbbing cunt.

he didn’t move for a moment, panting into your skin, both of you a sweaty, trembling mess. then, finally, he pulled back just enough to look at you—hair wild, eyes heavy, lips swollen.

“…tell me,” he said, voice hoarse. “tell me i fucked you better.”

you hadn’t even caught your breath when he pulled back to look at you—cheeks flushed. “y-you… only you. you fuck me better, god, better than anyone could. ‘fucking ruined.” your lips were kiss-bitten, eyes glassy with tears. “fuck,” jake whispered, he was frayed with awe. “look at you…”

you felt his hands on your waist, still trembling from the last orgasm he dragged out of you, but the ache between your legs hadn’t dulled—it’d only sharpened.

still pulsing… his desperation to be better than soobin egging you on… you were too far deep, finally understanding how he got so many girls to crawl into bed with him. you sat up, straddling his thighs. you saw the way his jaw tensed, like he was trying so hard not to lose it, slight confusion clouded his expression as he watched you lean into his chest. “wanna feel you,” you murmured, still trying to catch your breath. “inside.… more.”

his eyes nearly rolled back on the spot. “shit…yeah? c’mere, baby. take it. s’what you wanted, right?”

he leaned back against the couch cushions, legs spread wide as you slid your hand down between your bodies, guiding him to your entrance. he was still so hard—his dick was heavy and leaking, hot and you nearly moaned at just the feeling of him against your folds. then you sank down. the stretch made your thighs shake. your head dropped forward and your mouth fell open in a silent gasp as he stuffed you once again, his cock pulsing inside of you as you took shallow drags at his member.

“oh my god, jake…”

his hands flew to your hips, gripping tight enough to bruise. “jesus—fuck. you feel like heaven, baby.” you rolled your hips, grinding down in lazy circles as you got used to the size of him. he seethed through his teeth, eyes flickering between your bouncing tits and the place where your bodies met as you sped up. “look at you,” he groaned. “riding me so good—fuck, you were made for this. made for me… not him.” he smacked your ass, hard.

your hands pressed to his chest for balance, and you picked up the pace, bouncing now. his cock tugged against your walls just right, hitting that spot that made your toes curl, and you couldn’t stop the stream of breathy moans pouring from your mouth.

“you close already, pretty girl?” he rasped, thumb flicking over your clit. “you gonna cum on my cock like this? ‘gonna fuck me til i’m dry? til my cock’s all empty and sore???” you nodded frantically, eyes rolling back fervently. “j-jake—please, i can’t—” “yes you can. ride it out for me. fuck, you’re so tight—don’t stop, baby, don’t you dare stop—” his hands gripped your waist, helping you bounce on his dick as the two of you got lost in pleasure.

your orgasm washed over you with your back arching and your thighs quivering. you could feel him swelling up inside of you, a deep groan tearing from his throat as he spilled into you, bucking up, fucking more of his cum inside of you, desperate to chase every last bit of pleasure.

you collapsed forward onto his chest, both of you sweaty, shaking, breathless. jake brushed your hair back, kissing your temple. “feeling better?” he piqued, his once teasing tone returning. “shut up.” you groaned.

[lhseungs]

— ❛ WHERE THEY CUM ❜

. . . MEMBERS: enhypen hyung line - heeseung, jay, jake, and sunghoon

. . . WARNING / TAGS: smut, 18+, afab!reader, breeding, creampie, oral (m!receiving), creampie, overstimulation, orgasm denial (sorta), handjob, sorta sub!jake and dom!reader (implied), squirting, aftercare. not proofread!

. . . A/N: and another post taken from my old account, though this time i actually wrote it. sorry it took so long. i wrote majority of it and it didn’t save, unfortunately. anyway, enjoy!

✧ HEESEUNG

heeseung has an insane breeding kink. the second you tell him to cum in you, its like a switch goes off, gripping your waist with the most sinful moan escaping his lips. he loves filling you up and watching you take his seed, pushing it back in when he sees it spilling out.

“so fuckin’ tight, baby,” heeseung grunts, head falling back. “gonna cum soon.”

whimpers escape your lips as heeseung pounds into you. the lewd sound of skin slapping skin echoes the bedroom, bed shaking and hitting the wall. “p-please, hee… cum in me”

heeseung's eyes darken at your words. he grabs your chin, forcing your eyes to land on his. “hmm... my pretty baby wants me to fill her up?"

you nod, eyes pleading at you look up at heeseung. like a switch, heeseung pushes your legs against your chest and pounds deeper into you. you moan out, arms scratching heeseungs back as you try to ground yourself to something, the knot in your abdomen tightens.

"m'gonna fill you up so fucking good, baby," heeseung hisses, his thrusts getting sloppier.

your nails dig into heeseungs arm. "'seung... i'm gonna-"

"shit, me too, baby," heeseung's pace doesn't falter as your orgasm washes over you, legs shaking as you let out a loud moan.

with one last thrust, heeseung lets out a sinful moan, cumming right along with you. he fills you up, his white seed painting your insides and your name leaving his lips like a mantra.

heeseung looks down as his cum slowly drips out of your cunt. a fire ignites in him as he thrusts his cum back into you, relishing in the white ring formed at the base of his cock.

“h-hee, it’s too much-“ you cry out, clawing at his arms again as his thrusts increase speed.

“one more round, pretty. i know you could do it.”

✧ JAY

there’s just something about cumming in your mouth that jay is obsessed with. the way you look up at him with your pretty eyes while sucking him off, the way you grab the parts of him your mouth can't reach, and the way you swallow every bit of him gets him seeing stars every time the two of you fuck.

jay's head falls back against the chair as your mouth moves up and down his cock, covering his mouth to muffle the moans leaving his lips.

he risks lifting his head to watch you. you look up at him, eyelashes wet from previous tears, and continue to bob your head. your beautiful, pretty, doll-like eyes looking up at him as you suck his cock had jay bucking his hips.

"you look so pretty, baby," jay whispers, "so fucking beautiful for me."

you hum in response, causing jay to shiver and groan. he curses, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "fuck, doll, do that again."

you oblige, humming on jay's cock causing a moan to escape his lips. jay tightens his grip on your hair, holding your head still as he thrusts into your mouth making you gag.

jay's breathing gets heavier as he mouth-fucks you, moans growing louder as he gets close to his orgasm. "you're gonna take it, right? take it like a good girl and swallow every last drop."

again, you hum in response and jay lets out another loud moan. "oh, f-fuck, y/n-" he bucks his hips one more time as he cums, his warm seed spilling into your mouth as you swallow it all.

jay pull out and watches his cum spill from your lips. he leans closer to you and wipes the cum from your lips with his thumb. "say ‘ah’, baby." you open your mouth as jay inserts his thumb in your mouth. you lick the cum off his finger and he smirks.

"good girl."

✧ JAKE

heaven to jake is cumming on your face. doesn't matter where it lands (and frankly, you dont care either), but just seeing your face full of his cum as he kisses you senseless could get him hard again, and again, and again. he could go multiple rounds as long as he gets to see his cum painted on your cheeks.

jake whimpers as he goes on to round two. your hands are around his cock as he lays against the bedframe, chest heaving.

"you wanted another round," you state as you slowly stroke him, the cum from his previous round dripping from your cheek.

"i-i know."

you smile. slowly, you begin to increase speed, stroking his red cock that's just aching to cum again. you slide your thumb over the slit and jake whimpers again, bucking his hips.

as you stroke him, you lean forward and press your lips to his. jake kisses you feverishly, the taste of his cum on your lips setting him aflame. you increase your speed and jake moans against your lips.

"baby, i'm gonna cum," he mumbles against your lips. you chuckle.

"not yet, jakie."

he groans, head falling back against the headboard. you pepper kisses along down his jaw and collarbone, biting and sucking the pale flesh as his moans increase in volume. you giggle again.

you kiss down his chest and abdomen, then finally, you plant a kiss on the head of his cock. he bites his lip, muffling a moan as you say the magic words. "cum, jakie."

without a second thought jakes orgasm hits him, ropes of cum painting your face like a canvas. jake closes his eyes as he rides his high, moans echoing in your room. as jake opens his eyes, you lick your lips, tasting the cum on your face. jakes head falls back again as he groans.

"you're gonna be the death of me, baby."

✧ SUNGHOON

sunghoon is the king of aftercare, no doubt. which is why his favorite place to cum is your stomach. he loves leaving a mess on you, spreading it along your body, and fucking you again, the cycle continues, just so afterwards he could clean you up so well and take good care of you.

you've lost count how many rounds it has been. 2? 3? maybe even 4? you're unsure. but all you do know is sunghoon is fucking you like an animal in heat. your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, tears staining your cheeks, and the cum on your stomach already drying as sunghoon pounds into you for the nth time that night.

he groans, pulling your leg over his shoulder to fuck you deeper. a moan leaves your lips at the new position.

"hoon, it's too much..." you sob, clawing at the bedsheets.

sunghoon shakes his head. "last round, my love, i swear."

your chest is heaving as, again, your orgasm approaches. you frantically pull at the sheets as you feel the knot tighten. "sunghoon, i'm so close!"

with his free hand, sunghoon rubs your clit frantically while continue to pound into you. "come on, baby. cum for me." with a pornographic moan, you cum, legs shaking as you squirt on sunghoons cock.

"shit, baby. oh fuck!" sunghoon moans as you squirt on him. his thrusts get sloppier and he quickly pulls out with a hiss, stroking his cock as he releases onto your stomach. the ropes of white cum land on your stomach and sunghoon sighs and falls next to you in the bed.

a minute or so passed when suddenly, sunghoon gets up and goes to the bathroom. you smile, knowing whats about to come as you hear the bath running.

sunghoon returns, wet towel in hand as he cleans you up and places a kiss to your forehead. he lifts you up and leads you to your shared bathroom. sunghoon gently places you in the tub and kisses your forehead again as you sigh.

"you did so well for me, my love."

— © lhseungs 2025: do not repost

. . . TAGLIST: @sailoryuns @sickntrd @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @rayofsunshineeee

[luvyeni]

🩶… ( drabble ) that’s the spot ̨ ! ୨୧ 一 박종성 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jay getting turned on from a massageヾ

boyfriend!jay・ reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・oral sex ( f ) ‎ wc ・ ‎0.5k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can u write a fic where like u give jay a shoulder massage but it leads to more!! basing it off this tt

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 enjoy <3 !!

coming home to a long day at practice; his shoulders slumping over as he made his way into your shared bedroom. “hey princess.” he leaned down kissing your lips. “hi baby.” you watched him drop his bag on the floor; groaning and rubbing his shoulder as he sat on the edge of the bed. “whats wrong baby?”

he looked at you, before sighing. “during practice i tweaked my shoulder.” he said. “it’s been killing me all day.” you frowned seeing him in pain. “did you ice it?” he nodded. “nothing is working, we have to perform soon and i hate to be in pain while dancing.”

listening to his complaints about his shoulders; growing increasingly more worried. “can i help anyway?” he smiled, rubbing your bare thigh. “you can go get the painkillers from the bathroom.” you nodded; standing up, walking into the bathroom to get the pills making your way back into the room. “here you go.” he gave you a thank you — climbing back into bed, sitting on your knees.

while taking the pills; he felt your soft touch on his shoulders — swallowing the pills with a sigh. “mhm princess.” you used your thumbs, massaging light circles into his shoulders, getting all of the knots out. “oh fuck princess that feels so good.” you smiled, knowing he loved this; it turned him on like crazy. “you know what this does to me.”

jay was one that could keep himself together; remaining poise in any situation — except this one, the moment your fingers touch his shoulders, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head in straight pleasure. “you feel good?” he nodded, a small moan slipping out. “you know it is.” he could feel himself getting hard, his cock chubbing up in his sweats. “oh shit!” a much louder moan falling from his lips as you got the exact spot that had been killing him the entire day. “there it is.” he groans. “that’s the spot.”

you pressed your knuckles into the spot and he felt a twitch in his cock. “mhm fuck princess, your hands are fucking magical.” he was about to cum untouched just from you massaging him. “wait fuck stop.” he breathed out. “stop!” you stopped moving, he let out a deep breath. “you okay baby?” you bit back a smile. “fuck you know im not.” he said. “im about to cum in my fucking pants and your laughing.” he snapped. “well what can i do for you.” he groaned. “get on your knees like a good girl.”

and so you did; he spread his legs allowing you to get in between them; his bulge making your mouth water. “fuck don’t just look at it, take it out princess.” his hands holding his body up; lifting his so you can pull his pants down. “that’s it take my cock out.”

his cock bouncing against his stomach, you gave his red tip a kiss, he twitched. “fuck im gonna cum as soon as you put me in your mouth.” feeling extra sensitive; he grabbed the back of your head trying to gain his dominance back. “come on open up.” he slapped the tip of his cock on your lips. “yeahhh that’s it.” He groaned as your lips engulfed his cock. “fuck you’re suck a good girl , sucking my cock like this.”

he let you do what you wanted; bobbing your head up and down his shaft, bringing his hand to your head to hold you down. “ah fuck!” your throat tightening around his cock head. “you know exactly what to do to make me feel better princess -fuck- such a good little cock sucker.” you were getting so fucking turned on. “come on baby girl , keep sucking -shit- im gonna cum.” he moaned. “you gonna take my cum right?” you nodded, he threw his head back. “fuck im cumming.”

you took him fully into your mouth; he let out a deep groan as he shot his load into the back of your throat. “fuck , that’s it make me cum with your tongue.” he held the back of your head , holding you down with a curse. “fuck good girl.”

he pulled you into lap; wiping the cum from the corner of your mouth. “can’t wait to stuff my cock inside this pretty pussy.” he buckled his hips up against your clothed cock. “you need to be careful. your shoulder.” you said, holding his shoulder to rub it ; his cock twitching again. “you know im feeling much better. “ he groaned. “but that didn’t matter; I was gonna fuck this sweet pussy regardless.”

“and no shoulder tweak was gonna fucking stop me.”

©️LUVYENI

[harbours-lighthouse]

BABY, BOTH ARMS CRADLE YOU NOW

— PAIRING: Jason Todd x F!Reader

— SUMMARY: A sleepy moment between you and Jason on a rainy day.

— AN: I'm so sorry, this is super short! I'm working on three other separate things but felt like writing just a little bit for Jason...

cw: none, fluff wc: 527

GREY LIGHT staggers through the open window, sluggish along the floorboards. Rain taps against the wood, leaving behind darkened spots like spilt ink along parchment.

Jason's fingertips dance along your skin like rain drops themselves, pressing into the meat of your arm gently as if you were made up of piano keys. Your sighs that of silent melodies.

"How was patrol?" you murmur, pressing your nose against the underside of his chin, feeling the pleasant scrape of stubble.

You rise and fall with Jason, laying on top of him as he takes up all the space on the couch. With each breath he takes, his ribs expand and compress, and each time you think his wariness is slowly seeping out of him. Like a sponge being squeezed, rung out dry.

"It was tiring," Jason answers quietly, head inclining to the side. You feel the dull throb of his pulse against your cheek.

"Did you have to help any of the others?"

"For a bit. It wasn't too bad—Tim nearly crashed out, though"

"Why?"

"I don't even know."

You smile, amused. Shifting, you pull your head away from the shelter Jason's neck offers, and press your palms against the couch cushions to keep you upright. A rumble of protest vibrates in Jason's throat, his adam's apple bobbing.

Looking down at him, you see the tips of his lashes lit silver by the metallic light in the room. The green in his irises seems dimmer, more grey. It reminds you of overcast seas, the rush of his breath mimicking cresting waves along the shore.

Delicately, you bring your fingers to trace along the slope of his strong nose, the curve of his cheeks, the lines beneath his eyes.

"You're tired," you say softly, not a question nor an accusation. Just a statement. An observation.

Jason hums, watching you with hooded eyes, fatigue clinging to him heavily.

"Sleep, Jay."

"I wanna talk to you..."

"You can when you wake up."

Jason moves to gently grasp your hand, turning it to the side so that his lips press against the hollow of your palm.

"You have to stay with me then," he whispers against your skin.

You grin, feeling as if Jason's exhaustion is leaking into you.

"Okay."

You press a tender kiss to his lips. Jason's breath falters, stammers against your mouth, his lashes flinch shut.

When you part away for breath, something you curse on the daily, Jason's arms wrap around your frame. He pulls you tightly against his chest, and you feel as if you're shielded away from everything—the world itself.

"I love you," you say into the folds of his shirt, and Jason's arms coil around you even firmer.

You feel his nose push against your scalp, breathing you in like you're a scent that he's been searching for—in a way, you are.

"I love you, too," Jason whispers back.

Outside, the traffic slows, the sound distant. Gulls squawk along the windowsills, and for a moment, you pretend that you're not really here in Gotham, but somewhere else.

Maybe along the coast, in a house that is warm. Where the windows can shut, where Jason can rest.

Thank you for reading, God bless <3

tags: @kitkatlover015 top divider credit: @/saradika-graphics © harbours-lighthouse 2025 / i do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated, or fed into ai. all works belong to me unless stated otherwise.

[jayyluvvies]

Synopsis- he promised you he'd spend the weekend with you so why did you wake up to him screaming and playing on his pc?

Warning- .SMUT MDI. tittie flashing lol, blow job, deep throating, riding, teasing, name calling (slut), slight nipple play lmk if there's more

Lizzies note^ first time nervous kinda posting. (Please laugh) OML THIS IS HAPPENINGGG PLEASE LMK YOUR THOUGHTS AND HOW I CAN IMPROVE 😔🎀

Taglist- @skyearby 🎀

He *promised* you, saying he'd spend the weekend with *you* so why on earth is he sitting in his gaming chair headphones on, hands going insane on the keyboard, man is locked in.

You sigh as you wake up groaning to his yelling in his mic. He notices and quickly apologises nit ven bothering to look at you "sorry i woke you up love" You rolled your eyes and got up fixing your shorts and heading to the bathroom to freshen up. Once you're back you still see him playing thinking *okay maybe just till i finish breakfast? Then he'll be done*

And you headed to make breakfast. But no. Hours passed and he wasn't budging so you took matters to your own hands putting on a pair of pretty panties and *his hoodie* which reached above you're thighs but definitely showed the bottom of your ass peaking below

Plan 1: seduce

You walked in and he barely glanced at you and said "hi love" You rolled your eyes when he didnt even look at you *hi love my ass* you thought and made your way towards him and pretended to reach over for something across his desk making sure your ass is visible even shaking it a bit, you looked back smiling thinking he notices but to your disappointment he hadn't even bat an eye

*tsk* you sigh as you get off and initiate plan two; Tease

You smirk and got on your knees right in front of him and he spread his legs immediately while still playing, you put your hair up in a ponytail and start bending to clean under his chair making his jaw drop but still playing as the round seemed more important as he yelled at jay to cover him, you smirked and got up walking behind smirking and massaged his shoulders he groaned and kissed your hand and kept playing

Plan 3: show.

You lifted your (his) hoodie and took it off opting yo stay bra less and continued massaging and that's when he lost it and immediately got off shoving his headphones off and turning his chair around pushing you on your knees "tsk tsk such a needy slut, cant go a few hours without my cock huh?"

You pouted "you promised you'd spend the weekend with me" you added meekly wiggling your tits a little to rile him up just a bit more. He clenched his jaw and took out his dick hands going up and down on it playing with himself and when you opened your mouth to help he gently swatted you away "ah-ah you sit there and watch. Thats your punishment" you pouted and looked at him with teary needy eyes to which he just shook his head and shoved his dick down your throat "take it." He used your head and smirked seeing you moan around his dick. You bobbed your head up and down feeling hom get close by hos slight whimpering and his strong hold in your head, with a final groan he cums all over in your mouth tilling his eyes throwing his head back "f-fuck baby...that was-oh fuck" he grabs your face smashing his lips on yours and you get ok his lap getting rid of your panties throwing them somewhere random and he immediately helps you slide down on his dick breaking the kiss as his hands slide down to your waist gently massaging to calm you down as you were clenching too much "o-owh hee s-too much! Fuck!" You whine "i know baby but you gotta stop clenching mh? Cmon be a good girl and relax.. there we go good girl- fuck- yeah ride me baby show me who this dick belongs to" you immediately nod and held his shoulders for support and start bouncing up and down moaning and whining "oh fuck hee!" Heeseung smirks slapping your ass as his eyes roll to the back of his head seeing your tits bounce in his face grabbing one of them and pinches your nipple making you squel and clench around him he smirks and continues his assault and you feel your high coming "hee! Im gonna-fuck gonna cum!" He groans and nods feeling his high near as well "me too baby wait a little more lets cum together"

You nod excitedly and bounce faster and it comes crashing down on both of you shuddering and panting as he cums inside you and you whine and cum all over his lap making a mess and just stay in his lap to catch your breath while he dres random shapes on your bare back and kissed the top of your head "love you baby" you hummed and snuggled into him too tired to respond and he just chuckled running his hands through your damo sweaty hair as he carried you to the bathroom "lets take a shower love"

[hazelira]

respawned feelings

The sound of rapid keystrokes and the occasional frustrated grunt filled the room as Jay sat at his desk, wholly engrossed in his game. You huffed, arms crossed, sitting on the edge of his bed with your legs tucked under you. Today was supposed to be unique—Valentine’s Day—and Jay had his headset on instead of spending it with you, barking commands to his members through the mic.

“Dude, push mid—no, not that way! Are you serious?” he groaned, tilting his head back in frustration. His focus was entirely on the screen, unaware of how your brows furrowed deeper by the second.

You rolled your eyes. Enough was enough.

Rising to your feet, you walked over and plopped onto his lap, legs draping over his thighs. The sudden shift made his chair roll back slightly, but Jay barely reacted, only shifting his hands on the keyboard to make space for you.

“What are you doing, baby?” he mumbled absentmindedly, eyes never leaving his screen.

You let out a small, annoyed huff, fingers playing with the silver chain around his neck. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you muttered.

Jay chuckled, still not fully paying attention to you. “I do like to know. That’s why I’m asking.”

You let the incredible metal glide between your fingers before wrapping them around the chain, giving it a little tug, just enough for him to feel it. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. That got his attention.

“What’s up with you today?” he finally turned his head slightly, but his fingers remained on the keyboard.

Your lips pursed. “Oh, nothing. Just my boyfriend choosing his PC over me on Valentine’s Day.”

Jay exhaled through his nose, his free hand finding your waist to hold you steady. “Baby, you know it’s just one match—”

“Four. You said that three matches ago.”

He bit his lip, caught in the act. “Okay, maybe I got a little carried away…”

Your fingers tightened around his chain, pulling him closer, your faces now inches apart. His breath hitched, eyes flickering from your gaze to your lips. The tension in the air shifted. You weren’t just sulking anymore—you were challenging him.

Jay’s fingers hesitated on the keyboard, his teammates yelling in his headset barely registering in his mind. “Y/N…” his voice dropped, deeper, more strained.

You tilted your head, lips curling. “Yes, Jongseongie?”

That was it. His patience snapped.

In one swift movement, he abandoned his game, yanking his headset off and grabbing your waist with both hands. Your breath hitched as he pulled you flush against him, your noses barely brushing. And then, he kissed you.

It wasn’t a soft, gentle peck. It was deep, desperate, filled with the longing of hours spent ignoring what he truly wanted—you. His lips moved against yours with purpose, claiming, savouring, devouring. One of his hands slid up to your nape, fingers threading into your hair as he tilted your head to kiss you even more profoundly.

You melted into him, a soft sigh escaping your lips as your hands let go of his chain, slipping into his hair instead. The game, his teammates, Valentine’s Day resentment—none mattered anymore.

Jay finally pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed heavily. “I’m so dumb.”

You giggled, still breathless. “Yeah, you are.”

He smirked, his thumb brushing against your swollen lips. “I can make it up to you.”

You arched a brow. “How?”

Jay leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Starting with turning off my PC… and then focusing on what matters.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Took you long enough.”

Jay chuckled, standing up with you still in his arms, carrying you to the bed. “I’ll make up for every second.”

And he did.

requested by anonymous | anyways happy love day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

my perm taglist<3 <- request here

[arietem]

stop being a tease, jj

masterlist

jj maybank x fem!reader

a little glimpse in some fun on the beach for you and jj

suggestive content

You’re sitting on the porch step, the sun unrelentlessly hitting your upper back, heating you up and making you agitated. JJ is somewhere in the chateau, collecting his surfboard or whatnot, taking his sweet time while you’re waiting here for him, slowly melting away.

“Jayyy,” you yell out as loud as you can, hopeful he’ll hear you. “Are you coming or what?”

The plan for today is to get down to the beach, get a surf on, and then have a picnic. Your duty was to get the food ready, and you think you did pretty good, with a couple of containers of fresh fruit, some sandwiches, and a lot of snacks like pretzels and crackers. JJ’s job was to get the surfboards and show the fuck up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming. Just had to wax these beauties a lil’.” JJ comes bounding through the front door, both surfboards strapped to his sides. He leans down to kiss the top of your head and nearly beheads you in the process.

“Hey!”

JJ shrugs apologetically and you smack his ass. Then you double down and squeeze him a bit too. He’s just looking too yummy not to.

“You like what you see, huh?” JJ winks at you and jumps over the steps, wobbling when he meets the ground. He manages to keep his balance, and you roll your eyes, following him down the stairs.

Twinkie is yours for the day, so the two of you pack all the supplies in the back and climb in the front. JJ’s at the wheel, and you can’t help but marvel at how the sun bleached his hair almost white blonde. His golden skin is sparkling, and his long fingers are drumming on the dashboard.

“What?” JJ says, turning to look at you.

“Nothing,” you smirk, “I like looking at you.”

“Well, I like looking at you, too, princess.”

JJ reaches over and puts his calloused palm on your thigh, his pinky inching a little higher. A wave of heat envelops you, even stronger than the sun.

He’s still looking at you, and you bite your lip. JJ’s pupils widen, and his hand goes even higher, but suddenly stops. You pout and he grins, his dimple popping.

“You’re such a tease, JJ,” you say in mock annoyance.

“I’m your tease and you love it,” he says in a sing-songy voice.

You give him the finger, and he chuckles, finally starting the drive to the beach. He’s not wrong, though, you kinda do love the tease of it all, the thrill and the chase. There’s something hot about working for it. That’s why JJ’s in for a surprise when you get to the beach, and you can hardly wait to show it to him.

The drive is short, and with a few turns, you’re there. As soon as JJ parks the van, you jump out and collect the little fridge with your food, and JJ takes out the surfboards.

The beach is deserted, with it being a time in the middle of the work day, and because it is a bit isolated and out of the way, if you don’t know what you’re looking for.

You pick a nice spot on the sand and lay out the blanket, putting the fridge down. JJ is already in his swim shorts, and you can tell he is just itching to jump in the water and get on the board.

“Go, Jay, I’m right behind you.” You smile at him, happy because he’s happy. The ocean is his home, and he is in his element here. You’ll lick off the salty droplets from his skin later.

JJ blows you a kiss and makes a run for it, throwing himself between the waves. You can see his head bobbing, and before you know it, he’s standing tall on the board, doing spins and tricks.

“Show off!” you shout at him, but you’re so proud of him and his skills.

You watch him a little more, and when he realizes you’re still on the beach, still clothed, he starts swimming back. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for.

You slowly undo the dress straps around your neck and the top falls down, exposing your boobs. Then you slowly shimmy out of the skirt part, and you’re not wearing any bikini bottoms.

At this point, JJ is already at the beach, ready to come get you. You see him stop and gawk at you. After a moment of shock, he grins and runs toward you, almost knocking you down when his cold body connects with your hot one. The sensation is unlike any other.

“‘Kay, I see ya. Sex on the beach, huh? You a nasty little freak, princess.” His hands are wandering all over your body, squeezing and caressing in all the right places.

A little moan escapes your lips, and you can feel JJ shudder. You can also feel something poking you. You look down and then up at his face with a raised eyebrow.

Without saying anything else, his lips crash into yours, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. JJ gently lowers you to the ground and starts trailing kisses down your neck and chest, then your stomach and your thighs. His hair is tickling you and dripping on your body.

He makes his way up and stops at your lower stomach, still a bit higher than where you want him to. You wrap your legs around his back and tug on his hair.

“JJ, I need you so bad right now. Be a good boy and stop being a tease.”

“Game on, mama.” JJ gives you a hot, sloppy lick, and your head falls back, your nerves on fire. The day is just getting better and better.

[thefrogman]

Late Night Hosts: A Retrospective.

After the success of this post...

I noticed people seemed interested in the history and personalities of late night comedians. Especially all the youngins who weren't around yet. These hosts were a big part of my comedy training. So I thought I'd share with you what I remember of my comedy analysis and some personal context showing what made them tick.

I will be covering Johnny Carson, Jay Leno, David Letterman, and Conan O'Brien.

And if this post is successful, I will do Craig Ferguson, Jimmy Kimmel and all of the newest hosts.

Almost all of this is from memory, so a few details could be inaccurate. But I used to set up 2 VCRs so I could record Jay, Dave, and Conan each night. I watched Conan from show #1. That was 1993 (I was 12 then) and I did this for several years.

I would also get a bit of Carson Daly on the tape and just be flabbergasted someone gave him a television show.

Even Kermit was like, "How is this guy more of a fucking muppet than I am?"

I would watch my tapes and study them and take notes. I would do little comedy exercises. I tried to write a Letterman Top 10 List (I called it a "top 7½ list" because I feared the copyright police). I wrote monologue jokes about celebrities. And I tried creating silly characters like on Conan.

I was a big comedy nerd as a teenager, what can I say?

I even created an alter ego called "Bob the Frog" who was basically a ripoff of Triumph the Insult Comic Dog and Don Rickles. "Bob" wrote a comedy newsletter (I still have it somewhere) that I passed around to my classmates in junior high. This frog alter ego was my first attempt at comedy writing. (If you've ever wondered why I am "The Frogman", now you know.)

The first few were really bad. Then I got better and my friends started asking if I had written anything new. It was my first taste of making people laugh and I was hooked. I knew comedy would be a part of my life from then on.

I learned that I hated insult comedy. I felt too guilty. The only person I felt comfortable saying bad things about was myself. So "Bob" would say I was a lame dorktopus.

Eventually, I did stand-up until I was too sick to perform (1999-2003). I was just getting good so that was a very difficult period of my life. It felt like my dream was snatched away by my poor health.

On a whim, my best friend Tru McGowan convinced me to start a comedy Tumblr in 2009. At first I was really bad. I was used to stand-up where you had a new crowd each time and you could polish jokes until they were perfect. The hardest thing about internet comedy (much like late night comedy) is that everything is your *first* draft.

I'm not sure if people realize how difficult first draft comedy truly is. You can get decent at predicting what an audience will laugh at. But it is *never* a sure thing. Things you work on for days and are positive people will love... they will bomb horrifically. Things you write in 20 seconds and post on a lark... they go viral to a few million people.

But the greatest tragedy of all is when you post something with potential and it bombs. You know if you could workshop it with a proper crowd over a week or a month, you could make something amazing.

But it is already out there.

Your entire following saw it.

It is what it is.

That is some genuine 2009 Froggie comedy right there.

I just put text on a picture. I mean, this dude definitely wanted to bang that rancor and his dream was crushed just like its head. There is a joke there. And lolcat style text-on-a-picture was the comedy fad.

But "Gay for Rancors" got 15 pity notes and that was the end of my exploration of rancor fetish jokes.

Soon I started putting a little more effort into my originals. Somehow Photoshopping this bacon on a string got me 50 notes.

And I was never one to shy away from capitalizing on a current meme, so this accrued 143 notes (viral for Tumblr in 2009).

I got to know my audience. I started understanding what worked and what didn't. I did a lot of experimenting and eventually I started understanding this new comedy medium. If you are weird and put forth enough effort, people will reward you.

As an internet "first draft" comedian, I feel a spiritual connection to late night comedians. They have one day to write 15-20 minutes of material and once they send it out into the world... that's it. No second chance.

I think studying Conan and Dave helped prepare me for my blog. I still prefer polishing material over time, but I'm so glad I could rise to the occasion when circumstances demanded I "first draft" my entire comedy career.

So...

Let's get started.

Heeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!

Johnny Carson

I missed out on peak Johnny. But I have watched a bunch of those compilation videos with highlights from the show. I mean, I used to watch the 3am infomercial for those compilation videos. So I feel like I am still qualified to analyze him as a long-time student of comedy.

I started becoming aware of comedy right as Johnny was retiring. I literally studied it like a subject at school while not studying actual subjects at school. And the late night shows were some of the best learning tools available (aside from getting stand-up specials from Blockbuster). You got to see comedy every night and a variety of comedians with different styles.

Johnny was the best at the traditional late-night monologue. It's not that the jokes were funnier. Honestly, it is impossible to write 5 minutes of stand-up in a day that can give you anything more than a chuckle. But the audience knows that and it causes something I call "forgiveness comedy." People will adjust what they think is funny depending on the circumstances. If they know you had a day to write something, the audience will consider that and be primed to laugh more at less funny material. Especially if they like the comic.

The best example is improv. An audience will forgive the joke quality just because they are amazed it is coming straight off the dome (that isn't always true, improv is more magic trick than spontaneity, but that is another post). But if you tried to perform that same improv as a polished stand-up act, it would likely bomb. The brain adjusts to context.

Johnny took advantage of this and where he really shined was in between the written jokes. His bombs were opportunities. He would react with some self-deprecating remark and get a bigger laugh for making fun of his shitty joke. Basically, when Johnny was in trouble he was at his best. His reactions were what made him so loved.

His most famous reaction-style comedy was probably the tomahawk demonstration. I think this was one of the longest sustained audience laughs in history—which, sadly, the video cuts off. I think it was 4 minutes total.

Johnny was also a very good interviewer in the sense that he knew when to give people space. He didn't try to compete with all the funny people he invited on. He was a comedy support system and only stepped in when things went off the rails.

There were also his masterful softballs. (Sorry, I should explain I came up with my own comedy terms. They may or may not be actual comedy parlance.)

A softball is an easy setup for a joke (large balls are easier to hit). A conversational premise without a punchline. If you are riffing with another comedian and you know their strengths, you can set them up for a joke and let them take the punchline. This is a thankless comedy skill because you are giving away the glory to someone else. But being good at softballs often takes more creativity and skill than coming up with the punchline. Johnny knew he was speaking with some of the funniest people on the planet. And their success was his success. So he was always happy to set people up for hilarity.

Johnny was also a good sport. His friends would come on and make fun of him and he often laughed the loudest of anyone. Or pretended to be hurt for extra laughs. Rich Little and Tom Smothers would do impressions of Johnny in front of Johnny. I think this helped popularize the Friar's Club roasts around that time, of which Johnny was a roastee.

Johnny got along with everyone. I think the most endearing thing about his Tonight Show was that he was just trying to make sure everyone had a good time. It was fun. It was chill. It was comfort after a long day, like a television version of a warm hug. Many people would joke that is how they fell asleep each night.

There was one aspect of his show I have mixed feelings about. Johnny started the career of almost every comedian performing in the 80s. He would invite the new comics on the scene to do their "tight 5" toward the end of the show. It was a poorly kept secret that if he invited them to "the couch" for an interview, they were in. He was christening them a comedy star. Robin Williams, Ellen DeGeneres, Louie Anderson, Roseanne Barr, Jay Leno, David Letterman, Steven Wright, David Brenner, Drew Carey, Garry Shandling, Eddie Murphy.

And we can't forget Yakov Smirnoff.

Johnny was basically the all-powerful comedy judge. It was seen as a huge honor to be invited to the couch. But if you had a bad night or a bad audience or just weren't ready, that could end or set back your career in a huge way.

You either got a sitcom or a job at McDonald's.

Jay Leno

Jay was known as a very good road comedian. He was a very hard worker who would perform *anywhere* just to get experience. He performed at strip clubs and crappy hotel bars and those weird corporate events where you have to come up with jokes for vacuum salesman or mortgage analysts. You have to use hyperspecific industry terms and include employees in the audience. John Mulaney recently made the news for one of these gigs.

Actually, let me give corporate comedy writing a try...

"Vacuum salesmen are the only ones who can start their pitch with how much their product sucks.

Suction, am I right, fellas? Good suction sells itself. Bob's wife knows what I'm talking about. She can hit 20 kPa, easy. Heyoooo!

She's still no Miele C3 canister vacuum with included HEPA filtration. That thing has more new attachments than the CEO's hair.

Your plugs aren't fooling anyone, Steve!"

Though Jay started out working mostly clean, so I'm not sure he would have rated the suction of Bob's wife in kilopascals. Working clean meant he could do his act just about anywhere. But don't confuse him with a "clean" comedian.

Froggie Comedy Tangent

A comedian who happens to work clean can be funny. But a "clean comedian" will make you wonder how you are suddenly in Branson sitting next to a youth pastor and his flock. If they specifically brand themselves as "clean," you're just going to get thinly veiled (or blatant) conservative comedy. It will technically be apolitical, but all the subtext is MAGA.

I call it "I remember that" comedy. Because every laugh is derived from "Hey, that's that thing I know! I remember that!"

There is a thing called "Dry Bar Comedy" and their entire deal is inviting clean comedians to do shows. The non-drunk audiences (Get it? DRY bar) are laughing their heads off and it is so confusing.

I keep going "Wait, when did he tell a joke?"

They don't have to tell jokes!

They just have to talk about the "good old days" and people will be like, "I remember Cabbage Patch Kids!" and laugh at something resembling a punchline. Or sometimes there isn't a punchline—just a declarative statement that sort of goes up at the end.

I could have a lucrative comedy career just saying things like, "Do you remember G.I. Joe? I sure do miss when toys didn't have pronouns."

*uproarious laughter*

Almost every comedian that performs at the Dry Bar has a bit about spanking and ADHD.

"Kids these days have it easy. If you talk back to your daddy, you get a time out. Can you believe that? When I talked back to my dad, he made me pick out my own switch!"

*uproarious laughter*

"We didn't have ADD back then. We just had misbehaving children and a belt."

*uproarious laughter*

Comedians like Jerry Seinfeld and Jay Leno worked clean but it wasn't a moral thing. It just wasn't necessary for their material and was more marketable for gigs. They told real jokes with a premise and a punchline. They did the work and earned their laughs.

END OF TANGENT

It's weird to think Jay was once a respected and talented stand-up. Looking back, his material was... jokes for your dad. That's the best I can describe it. Not dad jokes, but jokes dads liked. Clever observations that would make dads go, "It do be like that!" Not really my thing, but he was good at it and he still draws decent crowds to this day. I mean, they all need walkers to get into the theater, but he packs the place with geriatrics wanting to laugh at Monica Lewinsky and OJ Simpson like the old days. Spoiler, Monica was a slut and Jay thinks OJ did it.

Jay did an adequate job on The Tonight Show. He was an okay interviewer and guests felt safe going on. They knew he wasn't going to talk about anything too embarrassing (with one major exception being Hugh Grant after he was caught with a sex worker).

Jay relied on bits that he knew worked and never really strayed once he had a working formula. He would read funny headlines. He would do his "Jaywalking" remotes where he found stupid people and used deceptive editing to make it seem like everyone he talked to was that stupid. Jay is really into things showing the decline of America in relation to the WWII generation.

Jay was the status quo comedian. He never really had "moments" that stood out and became legendary. Johnny had an entire DVD business just selling old clips from his Tonight Show. They were filled with moments that were so spontaneously and authentically hilarious that they stood the test of time. But trying to find a "greatest hits" compilation of Jay Leno's run will just leave you bored.

If you search YouTube for Jay's best moments, you just get a bunch of his "Headlines" segments. He's literally just reading clips from the newspaper.

As I mentioned in my other post, when he isn't in comedian mode, Jay Leno seems like a decent guy. He treated his staff very well and his work as a car historian is near academic level. When you hear him talk about old cars you feel like you are spending a weekend with your grandpa. So Jay's mean spirited monologues just seemed out of place and I think looking back, they ruined any chance he had at a legacy.

He just took cheap shots at celebrities and politicians and people in the news. And he did it relentlessly whether people deserved it or not.

Yes, every host at the time did this. But Dave felt like he was going through the motions and doing the monologue just because it was part of the format. His heart wasn't in it and he much preferred bantering with Paul Schaffer in the band than telling jokes about celebrities he doesn't actually care about. He was more interested in getting to the desk and doing his "real" comedy.

And Conan's jokes about celebrities were more silly than mean. He'd make fun of Tom Cruise or someone and then do the string dance.

But Jay would go dark. He had a smile on his face and it sounded like he was "just joking" but after hearing about Monica Lewinsky's story, Jay Leno's "just joking" was different. I remember Jay Leno making fun of that poor woman who had McDonald's coffee burn her vagina off. He probably got a few months of jokes out of that. He was such a nice guy outside of his comedy and looking back it seemed so out of place. But I think he did cheap shots because it was an easy laugh and he figured the famous weren't "real people."

If Jay was in head-to-toe denim, he was a solid dude.

If he was in a suit, he was an asshole.

Jay never stopped doing stand-up. You can catch a show this weekend if you want. Jay really likes to pepper in some classic 90s jokes about celebrities we have mostly forgotten. As I mentioned in my other post, I've heard him do Monica Lewinsky jokes as recent as 2019. They aren't part of his written material. They are usually ad-libs and callbacks. Like if Jay was fixing a car and someone said, "We need to suck the air out of these tires." There is a 90% chance Jay would respond, "Boy, where's Monica when you need her?"

He still does the "jokes your dad would like" material in his personal act. But they are much more like his Tonight Show monologues than his old stand-up. Easy jokes without much thought. Instead of his classic clever observations, he mostly complains about modernity, ad nauseam.

Actual joke...

"Have you seen these phones on your wrist? And you thought BUTT DIALING was bad!"

Get it? He's saying people are masturbating and accidentally calling people. Which completely misunderstands... no one talks on the phone, Jay. It's 2025 and we all have anxiety. Maybe you could do wank texting?

Okay, Jay. How about this as a joke, complete with a 90s reference...

"Have you seen these people wearing phones on their wrists? I guess they finally solved butt dialing!

But after they see a sexy picture of Cindy Crawford, Apple tells them they have 30,000 steps for the day!"

A famous fun fact is that he never spent any of his Tonight Show money. He lives off the interest and income doing stand-up. While he was host of The Tonight Show he still did stand-up just about every weekend. *I* think that *he* thinks that gives him working class cred despite his enormous wealth and caravan of supercars.

I'm glad his money allowed him to become the world's greatest car historian. I'm happy there is someone like him doing proper car conservation. His restoration of the Chrysler turbine car was fantastic. That is a neat piece of engineering and car history.

Jay never had a sex scandal and seems to love his wife. He's taking care of her as she battles dementia. I do feel sorry he is going through that.

Those are the nice things I can say about him.

But I think Monica Lewinsky and Conan O'Brien should be allowed one giant kick in the nuts.

David Letterman

Conan O'Brien wasn't the first person Jay Leno screwed over with The Tonight Show. David Letterman was actually Johnny Carson's favorite guest host. But he was quirky and experimental. The network liked Jay Leno's safer style.

It was a big controversy at the time and they even made a weird movie about it called The Late Shift. Pretty much every person portrayed claims it is horribly inaccurate. The actors they cast looked like when you draw from memory.

The big joke at the time was about the ridiculous chin prosthetic. Did you know Jay has a sizeable chin? Let's get Stan Winston away from Terminator 2 to make this bigass chin.

Dave started out as a TV weatherman. But once he got popular doing stand-up, they gave him a morning show. They tried to make him Regis Philbin. But he sucked at being Regis. Only Regis could be that excitable in the morning. Dave wasn't really a "morning" comedy guy so that was quickly cancelled.

In 1982, he got the Late Night show at 12:30am after Carson on NBC. No one paid much attention to him and he realized that. I think that excited him and he was just like...

Dave and his team created some of the most experimental comedy on broadcast TV up until that point. He was basically unsupervised in a comedy laboratory for over a decade.

He wore an Alka Seltzer suit and dunked himself in water.

He wore a Velcro suit and hurled himself against a wall.

Looking back I'm realizing he did a lot of suit based humor.

He had a very long running gag with character actor Calvert DeForest who Dave called Larry "Bud" Melman. He was a bit like a sidekick.

Calvert was this cute old man and would literally do *anything* Dave and the writers asked. He had no fear. He had no shame. He would often go to random places and interview people. But he was really bad at following the scripted material and would get confused and forget the jokes. He didn't understand how microphones worked. Any segment with him would go off the rails because he never quite understood the premise. Dave loved this tiny, elderly ball of chaos. The trainwreck was the joke.

Dave helped Super Dave Osbourne get his incompetent daredevil schtick out there. He let Andy Kaufman get in a fight with someone and no one could tell if it was a bit. (10:30)

Johnny and Jay's Tonight Show was where all the normie comedians went to get their big break. Dave was where the weirdos flocked to. And some of them were terrible, but they were *always* fascinating. I don't think Frank Zappa would have his cult following without Dave.

Dave was the first to regularly do "remote" humor where he'd just go out into the world and get into trouble with real people. The segments were great but Dave struggled with social anxiety. So that eventually evolved into Dave hiding in a van and making a Chinese-American deli owner named Rupert Jee repeat awkward things said in a hidden earpiece.

Dave's interview style was erratic. He was a very good host as long as he liked his guest. He loved having a real conversation with a fascinating person. He rivaled Craig Ferguson when those conditions were present. But if he didn't care for them, things would either get very awkward or very boring.

He didn't like pop celebrities who didn't have genuine talent. Paris Hilton or Kim Kardashian would have driven him nuts and he would purposely seem bored when interviewing someone like that. Dave had trouble "faking it." And instead of Jimmy Fallon's cringe fake laughter, Dave would just appear utterly uninterested.

But if he didn't like someone and chose awkward over boring... hoo boy... it was *really* awkward. And Dave relished in the discomfort.

Madonna (who Dave acknowledged as genuinely talented) was unhappy about his monologue jokes. Essentially he alluded to her being a bit of a slut. It was typical Late Night comedy fodder at the time. I'm not endorsing it, I'm just saying everyone did it and society didn't have a problem with it at the time. She released a book about sex called... "Sex." Then she released an artistic softcore black and white erotic music video that most people felt was... more strange than sexy. She just kinda talk-singed to the same loop and made out with a dude while clips of a dancer in full body spandex came out of nowhere.

The Wayne's World parody was much better and somehow less weird.

Needless to say, people made fun of this pivot to weird erotic art.

In any case, Dave had Madonna on and she turned the weird up to 11. I think she was trying to get back at Dave, but it had the opposite effect. He saw where things were going and he just kinda... "let her cook."

He was delighted to watch the train wreck unfold.

I mean, she was right. She was being slut shamed—by everyone, not just Dave. But she was so overtly odd that it was hard for people to hear that conversation within the chaos. And the only thing the mainstream news cared about was her potty mouth.

On the other hand, he liked Drew Barrymore a lot. Drew was a very good actress and she was charming and funny. She was just as weird as Madonna, but it was not oppressively weird.

I think Dave saw her more as a daughter figure. Or maybe he wanted to and was ashamed he wasn't successful? Or she made it difficult for him to be a father figure? Because she saw him as a... umm... daddy figure? He enjoyed her company but was uncomfortable with her affection, so her interview was awkward in a different way. This was especially famous because she ended up flashing him for his birthday.

Dave was complicated. He was a former alcoholic. He suffered from social anxiety while having the world's most social job. He was the most private public figure you could imagine. He managed to have a sex scandal that no one seems to know about or talk about. He was involved with his personal assistant who regularly appeared on the show. Then her roommate tried to blackmail Dave for two million dollars by threatening to expose the affair. Dave decided to just fess up and helped the authorities with a sting operation to catch the extortionist.

Dave was self-conscious and neurotic. I don't think he liked himself for a very long time. Which is probably why he tried to blow up his life and family. But he loved his son and once that love took hold he seemed to get his shit together. He seemed like a different person. I liked Dave's comedy much more when his life was a hot mess. But I liked Dave as a person much more when he started choosing good behaviors. Much like Jimmy Kimmel, family seemed to make him a better person.

Dave pushed the late night format to the limit and inspired an entire generation of comedians. He encouraged them to try risky things and experiment and became the comedy mentor that Jay Leno wishes he was.

Also he loved his mom and sent her to the Olympics and it was the cutest thing ever.

I'm a sucker for people who love their moms.

Conan O'Brien

Conan was my comedy idol. If you have followed my comedy over the years, you might have noticed a similar embrace of... intelligent silliness.

Stupid smart?

He was a magna cum laude Harvard graduate and a clown without the makeup. He was originally a comedy writer and head of the famous Harvard Lampoon humor magazine. He went on to write for The Simpsons and SNL.

He wrote that monorail episode.

Every Conan fan who wants to share a fun fact will make sure you know he wrote the monorail episode. Kumail Nanjiani did a great bit about this during Conan's Mark Twain Prize ceremony (it's on Netflix).

After Jay took over The Tonight Show and Dave gave NBC the finger and left for CBS, the "Late Night" slot needed a new host. And Lorne Michaels decided this pale redheaded giant from the SNL writing staff might be a good choice. No one had any clue who he was. No one had any confidence in his success—including Conan.

And the only person who saw a spark of genius was... David Letterman. (2:20)

Conan just started cranking out as much weird comedy as he could. The Masturbating Bear, Pimpbot 5000, FedEx Pope. There was a pooping robot at some point.

They had a sizeable robot budget.

He was the true spiritual successor to Dave's 80s Late Night show. By this time Dave mellowed out and didn't have the motivation and hunger to innovate like he used to. So Conan filled that role.

I think the reason Conan appealed to me specifically was because I saw a lot of myself in him. I was good at a lot of different styles of comedy—I had this almost shapeshifting ability to customize my humor to the person or audience I was entertaining. But eventually I decided I just wanted to make people feel good. I had to pick a style and stick with it. I wanted to make comedy comfort food that wasn't dumbed down or patronizing. It could be stupid and corny but I didn't want my audience to feel like they were stupid for liking it.

I don't know if I'm making any sense.

Conan was a genuinely nice guy and a constant people pleaser. He didn't have an edge and he didn't need one. He could do innovative comedy without punching down, without trying to push any offensive lines, without saying fucked up shit just to see if he could get away with it.

I'm not even knocking comedians who are skilled at dancing on the line. Some of my favorites of all time played with the line. Lenny Bruce, Richard Pryor, George Carlin, Chris Rock.

Louis CK and Dave Chappelle before they...

*heavy sigh*

But so many comedians at the time thought that was an easy path to success. They didn't realize you had to be incredibly funny in order to stand next to or jump over the line. You had to compensate with amazing jokes to get away with it. But that takes effort and talent and finesse. They preferred laziness and brute forcing edgelord material.

And that is how we got a gaggle of Joe Rogans.

Hmm, we need a better collective noun.

That is how we got an ivermectin of Joe Rogans.

Conan was unapologetically silly. But it had this foundation of intelligence in the subtext. And every once in a while, he'd let an Abe Lincoln fun fact slip out (he could be a legit Lincoln historian if he wanted to). He made comedy for smart people who needed to turn down the volume of their brain for a bit.

Thinking is exhausting sometimes, but you can't shut it off completely.

Conan struggled for several years to find an audience. I think he was on the verge of cancellation every few weeks. I watched him every night from the first show. I started to see what Letterman saw. It was really neat to watch him learn and grow. He taught me that comedy was a journey. And eventually people found him and loved him and the rest is history.

My favorite running gag was definitely the Walker Texas Ranger lever. He'd randomly pull a big red lever and all it did was play a clip from the show. Everyone knows the Haley Joel Osment AIDS clip, but that was not my favorite. (2:40)

Walker was an egalitarian karate pugilist.

It was such a brilliant bit that relied on Conan's setup and reaction. If he just played the clip without the antics, it would not hit as hard. It would be Jay Leno reading the newspaper.

And... I don't have the energy to fully explain Jordan Schlansky.

I wouldn't even know where to start.

The short version is... Conan doesn't quite know how to handle intense nerdy metrosexual autism and hilarity ensues.

I encourage you to go down the Jordan Schlansky rabbit hole. I promise you will start watching and suddenly it will be tomorrow and you'll look at the clock and not be sure if it is AM or PM. If you are wondering, yes, he is really like that. But he pretends not to be self aware to make it funnier.

And then there is Sona. Conan's Armenian assistant who doesn't do a lot of assisting. They are basically siblings. You can tell she became part of his emotional support system. At times she matched Conan's comedic brilliance without any experience or training. She has perfect timing and can hilariously devastate his self esteem like an emotional assassin. (2:45)

There is so much more, but you get the idea.

Conan is a brilliant, silly comedian. And he is a solid dude. Just like Leno, his staff stuck with him. He was a great boss that inspired fierce loyalty. They even moved from New York to Los Angeles for him. And when he lost The Tonight Show he started his own company just so he could keep everyone employed and paid. That eventually evolved into his successful Team Coco podcast network.

Before his TBS show, Conan was contractually obligated to not appear on television for a year. He went on a grueling tour across the country performing a live comedy musical variety show. This was mostly to maintain his staff until they could find a new TV home.

They made a documentary "Conan O'Brien Can't Stop" about this live variety show. Some people thought this revealed Conan to be a bit of a dick. But he just lost his dream job, his entire staff had no source of income, and he was going from city to city working 18 hour days, including a 2 hour, high energy stage show—all while trying to stave off his deep depression. (Also Jack McBrayer was an old friend, and that was an ongoing bit between them.)

I don't think I've seen Conan that vulnerable and that human and you could see his staff doing their best to keep him from imploding. He felt responsible for the livelihoods of hundreds of people. They loved him and knew he was doing it for them.

(And because he needs constant attention and validation, but what comedian doesn't?)

To end things I think I'd like to try one of my comedy exercises.

I'm going to do a Top 7½ list in the style of David Letterman Bob the Frog. I can only promise junior high level comedy.

(Also, if you have never seen Dave do one of these, number 1 always has a drumroll and is purposely bad.)

Top 7½ signs you are in a "clean" comedy club.

7½. The headlining comedian was cancelled for...

7. You ask for the drink specials and the waitress says they might have Diet Sprite in the back.

6. The comic was once ratio'd on Twitter after being called "Temu Jeff Foxworthy."

5. "Back in my day we had Transformers not transgenders. The Autobots' pronouns were roll/out."

4. The comic takes off his belt, holds it up to the crowd and says, "This was what we called Ritalin in the 80s."

3. Your seat has a gun holster next to the cup holder.

2. The comic assures everyone that he "found God" so there is no reason to google his name and "me too."

*drumroll*

Annnnd, the number 1 sign you may be in a clean comedy club is...

1. Thursday is "Free Tennis Balls for Your Walker Night!"

[skierisa]

i would sell my soul for more 90s au hcs...

thanks for the soul, here are more headcanons!

Jay and Nya 100% do that thing where you call the radio station and request a song and dedicate for another.

Nya pierced her ears at home with Kai's help. Those got infected. But the multiple earrings looked pretty cool once they healed!!

Kai also pierced Zane's ear.

Skylor and Cole also pierced their own ears too but they knew what they were doing.

I have established that Kai also has a gig cutting others' hair from time to time (mostly when he needs money to go to a concert or such or just because someone needs a haircut and he offers himself to do so) but before he could start charging for this he had to practice, and when he couldn't practice on himself because his hair was too short, he'd bring in Nya. And she let him. Which led to her bob cut phase you see here

She really dislikes this phase but sometimes wish she could have it short again (but cut better as now Kai know's what he's doing and she can afford an actual hairstylist if he fucks it up again)

Cryptor and Echo love sneaking into movies.

Kai and Lloyd always forget to rewind movie tapes before giving it back to rental stores.

Nya can't keep a tamagochi alive for more than three days or so.

They do parking lot hang outs or just straight up hanging out inside a convenience store.

Jay and Kai are secretly fans of Spice Girls (Skylor and Nya know about this).

The boys do talk about making a band one day... (since Kai and Lloyd play guitar, Jy plays bass, Cole plays the drums and Zane plays the keyboard as a hobby).

Morro really wants to adopt a cat once he gets to live by his own (has a room in the college dorms and they dont accept cats there).

he also lives relatively close to Lloyd so they constantly hang out.

Arin is a regular at Comix Doom Store and has this admiration for Lloyd like in the show, but here is just 'cause Lloyd seems like the "cool teen".

So Arin has similar hobbies to Lloyd, trying to mimick him.

Same thing with Frak, but he looks up to Cole and Nya the most. He skateboards like her and tries engaging in the same music stuff Cole's into.

Kai has a CD he burned titled "Red Sky" which only has songs that remind him of Skylor (no one besides Lloyd knows about it and he only knows it because he saw it in Kai's CD player once and got the wordplay).

Lloyd, Nya and Jay have gone to the ER together many times because they both skate (i mean, Lloyd and Nya skateboard and Jay skates) and get hurt a lot while doing so.

Wyldfyre, Kai and Nya are distant cousins.

Skylor and Chad (from the Ninjago Movie) are siblings, and he looks up to Kai a little bit (kinda like Arin looks up to Lloyd).

Nya is in two different school clubs (swimming and robotics club respectively). She also engages in surfing a lot, too.

Pixal is also in her school's robotics club and also has IT and computer science classes (Zane does too but it's separate from high school and more of a special interest).

Every day of the departed/halloween, Zane and Pixal wear matching costumes (which are usually references to super old movies and literature, but it's mostly noir)

Cole has a gig at a gay club as a DJ. Most people don't know, and those who know, won't say anything (because it's the 90s and if you knew who was in a gay club it meant you were there too)

His favourite band is Korn.

Morro's major in college is

He surprisingly enjoys this course :)

I can see Pixal liking sci-fi in this AU.

Skylor has sketched those "K + S" on her school notebooks and cheesy stuff like that. She hides it at all costs.

oooookay i think it's getting pretty long and i realy need to go to bed so hope you like it!!

[anotherfcknschlattsimp]

im thirsty for some water sir, please order me up some genderfluid reader fucking schlatt because readers wants to be more dominant (maybe with a dildo, fuck machine, or pegging..)

i hope i did you justice bestie

the first thing he does when you ask is refuse

<3

but then enough holidays and birthdays pass that he's gotten you everything you could want except one thing

to take the lead

so you beg...

and beg...

and beg

he finally lets you try something on halloween when you show up in full dominatrix gear, ready for the party you were dragging him to

except he got so hard so fast he nearly passed out

you were not going to the party

he's on his knees in front of you, jaw dropped

something in your head clicks because this is the perfect time to ask again

he doesnt stutter over his answer (he does but thats cause one man can only shout so many yeses so fast)

you had plenty of toys at his place, tucked in a shoe box under the side of the bed you sleep on

with plenty of lube

okay not to get into it

he's laying his chest on the bed with his hips raised and held in place with pillows, staring you down with anticipation as you get yourself situated

you pull down on the toy and watch it bob up when you let go and you hear schlatt, very loudly, gulp from the bed and reposition his hips a bit higher

who knew that man could arch so well

if you had a penis it would be able to cut diamonds you were so turned on seeing him anxiously await your next move

you get behind him on the bed and pour some lube on your fingers

when you push your first finger in, you gently stroke his pathetically weeping dick so he can get used to the feeling faster

slowly moving in and and, working him open

he totally didnt cum by the time you were ready to fuck him, and how dare you think he did. (he did but he pleaded for you to keep going)

you line your strap with his hole and place a kiss under right between his shoulders before slowly sliding in, stopping when he would start squirming and continuing when he gave you the okay

the okay may have been a paragraph worth of pleas but that's neither here nor there

youre finally all sheathed, and you take a moment to lean forward and whisper in his ear

"such a good boy for me, jay~ daddy's good boy, hm?"

youre rubbing his sides and feel him start to bounce back on you

"mmm, needy aren't we? slut" you kiss his shoulders again, and he lets out the neediest whine youve ever heard at the name

"mhm, y-es d-daddyyy-" he mumbled, if you saw his face you'd know he was drooling and his eyes were rolled so far back his irises were almost gone

you begin thrusting, slow in, slow out, and going slightly faster every time

you felt powerful

youre making this 6'3 behemoth cry and drool all over himself for your cock

simply put, you felt like a god

you jackhammered your hips into his as you held him down by the neck

"cl-clossseee" schlatt whined and panted under you, white-knuckling the sheets

"cum for me baby~ be a good boy and cum for daddy~" you say sternly , running your nails down his back

the pain and pleasure made him let out the deepest growl and rut his hips back into you until he couldnt hold back any more and came

"thank you- thank you daddy" he mumbled, knowing you probably wouldnt stop if he didnt thank you

"good boy~" you kiss down his spine as you pull out

@xoxoave @sonnyjune @jschladderall @ezraholms @honeymochii @ratqueen06 @haceroo @ev3-sb @0miamor0 @miniminkis @lover-girl-for-life @jaytalksnonsense @baadkiitty @adriixboo @caiterculy @ratsatemyson @xplrmyguts @littleskeletonprincess @morgan-getty @britishscum @babies-blues @jay-cosplay-bin @vigari @bigbuvkybarness

I LOST IT HALFWAY THROUGH BUT I FRANKENSTEIN'D IT TOGETHER, IT'S FINE

[runningfrom2am]

michigan cherry // part two

summary: walking into a saloon in a nowhere town, billy meets a singer who he just can't get off his mind after she slips through his fingers; onto another town, another show- following nothing but the stars in her path. until he sees her again. another nowhere town and equally dusty saloon, but this time, the band of kids who made up her family is nowhere to be found. he's running away from something, and she is storming full speed toward something else, and tangling into each other's lives may just get both of them exactly where they want to be.

pairing: william h. bonney x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: singer!reader (she’s giving very much lucy gray), probably a little bit ooc billy but hey i tried- anyway he’s a sweetheart, use of guns and violence, murder and violence but i try to keep it non-descript, oh also she’s an orphan sorry (once again, lucy gray vibes), strangers to friends to lovers trope eee

the song in this chapter is "Nothing You Can Take From Me" by The Covey Band !!

a/n: sorry 'bout this :)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // pinterest board // playlist

"You can kiss my ass, then keep on walkin'!"

Josie's singing from up by the horses makes you giggle as you're helping Max load up the back of the wagon with your instruments.

"Jay, you know you ain't supposed to say that word!" You call out, a fond smile on your face as you glance over the front bench of the wagon and down at her as she feeds one of our horses an apple.

"You get to say it!" She rebuffs stubbornly, and you turn back as Max nudges you with his sister's fiddle case for you to pack it.

"That's 'cause she's full grown, little miss." He laughs, his brown eyes sparkling even in the dimness of the night. "You can say it too, but not just yet."

"Soon?" The little girl asks hopefully, her mousy brown hair bobbing around her chin as she climbs up onto the wagon with you as you tuck the fiddle away next to the small drums belonging to the kids.

"Maybe one day, as a treat, I'll let ya do that line for me. Maybe." You offer in exchange. "But until you're eighteen, you gotta watch your mouth."

Max hands you your guitar case last, and you tuck it behind the rest of the instruments and toss a blanket over the top of it to keep it covered in the night.

Josie claps happily as Sarah lifts Harvey onto the wagon, and you're all ready to go. Onto another town, more shows, and more nighttime rides through the country's beautiful trails under the night sky.

You climb over onto the drivers bench while Max hops up the other side and settles in next to you. "We got everyone?" He asks, taking the reins and glancing back over his shoulder at the three kids getting comfortable in the back.

"All accounted for!" Sarah calls back, making sure the kids are sitting down as Max flicks the reins and the wagon starts to move slowly in the direction out of town.

"On with the show, then!" Max calls cheerily over the kids singing in the back.

You look back over your shoulder as you hear some very normal shouts coming from the saloon, smiling a bit to yourself as you turn back to face the trail.

"No Billy tonight either, hey?" Max asks quietly after a solid half hour of comfortable silence between the two of you up front, the kids yapping in the back having slowed to a steady stop as they fell asleep by the relaxing and steady rock of the wagon.

You look over at him, a slightly sad smile on your face as you shake your head. "Nope."

"He'll find you." He says, gently bumping your shoulder with his and glancing over at you, a small smile on his face. "And if he can't, someday soon there will be posters from Silver City to Detroit with your face plastered all over 'em. "Come see the world's best singer live in show!" They'll say. Trust me, he won't be able to miss you then."

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head and leaning it against his shoulder. "He may have to squint at it, it'll have all of us squeezed on. "The best band America has ever seen"." You correct him.

"No." He shakes his head, scrunching up his nose a bit. "You're tyin' us all together. On and off the stage. Without you singing, we're mediocre at best."

"Hey!" You chuckle, sitting up and smacking his arm playfully. "That ain't true and you know it."

The old wagon creaks underneath you with every divet in the dark path, and it's a comforting background noise to your hushed conversation.

Max has been your best friend your whole life. A little boy a year or so older than you and his baby sister dropped off the same way you were, with a funny accent you one day learned was Parisian. You picked fun at him, sure, but he was a good sport. Neither of you would have had it any other way.

Though, you had tried, once. The two of you at fourteen years old telling other kids at the home that you were getting married, a childish and adorable dream in hindsight, but at the time made all the sense in the world. Then you had kissed him, just to try it, and both of you laughed so hard you woke one of the nuns. She dragged you back to your room, and after that, you never spoke of it again.

You were best friends, yes, but neither of you were quite right for one another. And he told you that one day you would just know.

Max had never seen you look at someone the way you looked at Billy that night a few weeks ago. What really drove it home was how you didn't immediately have to leave and then begin spewing distasteful words about the man who had just bought your water and honey shot for you. You just had this sweet, almost bashful smile on your face and you kept humming to yourself as you helped him pack up the wagon just like you did tonight. You said nothing, and to Max, that said just enough.

He had seen plenty of men and boys look at you the way Billy had that night, but you were sharp as a tack in mind and wit- and if you weren't put off by him? Hell, Max saw no harm in you chasing some kind of happiness outside of the music you make.

"It's... kinda true." He chuckles, looking back at the sleeping kids. "You could easily go big on your own."

"I don't want to." You shrug, looking down at your hands in your lap. "What's wrong with what we've got goin' on here? I'm happy as a clam the way we are."

"Sure, nothin's wrong with this life, but..." Max lets out a quiet sigh, looking over at you again with the reins still clasped loosely in his palms. "I don't know... I want more for you. And for them. Wouldn't it be great for them to have a home? For the kids to go to a real schoolhouse, meet other friends, have their own beds to sleep at night?"

You nod quietly in agreement. You were happy, the kids were happy for now too, but what you had wasn't normal and you knew that. What all of you had always wanted was a home, and now that you were on your own, you still didn't have it.

Max gives you a small smile, not wanting to get you down on it. "Shoot for your dreams, little girl." He says teasingly after a moment, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you gently. "For the stars."

"Oh, please, I-" Your small laugh is interrupted when he quickly retreats his arm from your shoulder.

"Shh..." Max hushes you quickly, looking at the path up ahead, squinting at the dim lantern light flickering in the back of a wagon up ahead that seems to be stopped across the path.

"What? Wha-"

He hushes you again more urgently this time, head turning when he hears hoofbeats not belonging to your horses coming from up ahead as well.

"Get in the back with the kids." He whispers, pushing on your arm to get you to go.

"Max, it's fine, I'll just stay here."

"Go lay down, pretend to be asleep. I'm sure they just need help with a broken wheel or something, but I don't want you talking to strangers out here." He whispers. "I'll handle it."

You sigh, knowing how stubborn he is about this kind of thing, and climb over the bench and into the back of the wagon with the others. You curl up next to Harvey and drape an arm over him, holding him close for a bit more warmth and gently stroking his hair as you ride closer to the stopped wagon.

Eyes closed, you listen intently as you feel the wagon come to a stop and hear Max climb down, his boots hitting the ground with a quiet thud against the grass.

"Hey, you alright here?" Max asks, and then the subtle but chilling click of a gun being loaded.

Your blood runs cold, but you don't move.

"What have you got in the back?" And then another click, and footsteps getting closer.

"Nothing." Max says, and you can only hear the tremble in his voice because you know him. "Just my family. Just the kids. I promise, we haven't got anything you'd want."

"You've got kids with you and not a dime to your name? I don't believe that for a minute. You gotta feed 'em somehow." A man's voice says, deep and gruff without giving you any sense they'll be sympathetic to the cause. "You won't mind if we just take a look, right?"

You squeeze your eyes shut and hold Harvey a little tighter, grateful that he's still snoring quietly in your arms.

"I do mind." Max insists, sounding more angry than you're sure you'd ever heard him. "We're unarmed, all there is back there is children sleeping and some old instruments. So no, you can't look."

Kids and instruments, yes, but there are kids and instruments and you. A pretty girl with her show dress still on, hair done up just the way you like it, and the old necklace you believe might have one day way back when had belonged to your mother. Maximilien wasn't about to let them get to any of you if he could help it.

The hair standing up on the back of your neck and the goosebumps on your arms send a shiver down your spine when you hear footsteps approaching the back of the wagon and see the flickered light of a lantern getting closer.

"No! Hey!" Max calls out, and there's a shuffle that makes you jolt a bit, a crack that tells you someone's thrown a punch, and right as Harvey tries to quickly sit up while you hold him down, a gunshot pierces your ears followed by the sound of someone's body slumping to the ground.

You know whose body it was. After all, Max wasn't lying about you being unarmed.

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[wats-am]

I think I said at some point that “Jay fell first, but Bob fell harder”. I’ve been think about that, this morning.

I often think about how Jay and Bob don’t seem as close during the Jersey Trilogy. You all already know my theory about Bob having been gone for a while, before hand. That he got early acceptance into college, or something. Met Amy and had a super intense relationship with her that caused him to neglect everything and everyone else, including Jay. And he came back with his tail between his legs, and really Jay couldn’t be more relieved that Bob is back, but he is fucking angry that he just dropped him like a stone. Because, we know that Bob at least has a loving mother to fall back on, but it honestly seems that Bob is really the only one Jay has got. And Jay is stuck in a cycle of tongue lashing Bob at every opportunity, to punish him, and then desperately clinging onto him, afraid that he’ll leave for good. Nowhere is this more prominent than in “Chasing Amy”, where we see Jay do a total 180 on his opinions on romantic relationships in five seconds flat, when there is an inkling that Bob might one day leave him for someone else. Throw some repressed attraction into the mix, you have a storm.

Evidently, some healing occurred, between “Chasing Amy” and “Dogma”, because this is really where the whole “hetero life-mate” thing got into full swing. What is more, while Jay is still every bit as moody and aggressive as in the previous three films, he and Bob seem to be on much better terms, showing greater affection and intimacy than they have, previously.

And on the subject of intimacy, this is the point I wanted to talk about. We all love the look of shock on Bob’s face when it is revealed that Jay is bisexual. It’s been interpreted a bunch of different ways. Genuine discomfort, Bob realising he might have had a chance all along, or just a complete shot out of the blue, even though it really isn’t, but I honestly think these two struggle with reading people, even each other (undiagnosed neurodivergence galore in the Askewniverse). I got to thinking, yes, this is probably a revelation Bob didn’t see coming, but also, in that moment, a whole lot of other shit just clicked into place.

Bob may already have worked out that Jay was upset with him for going away, and keeping important things from him. And maybe he thought that Jay’s flirtation with him was part of that. In making advances on him, Jay is clearly teasing him, right? Letting him know he’s ugly and dull, that there’s not a snowflake’s chance in hell that Jay could ever find him attractive, even if he did like men. He’s trying to humiliate him, right, he’s punishing him? Well, after Rufus’ reveal, Bob realises, no, not at all, far from it. A whole new layer of understanding has fallen on him. It isn’t that Bob hasn’t been taking Jay’s friendship seriously, but now he feels the undercurrent. What made Jay so upset when he stopped talking to him. What Jay has been grappling with, every time he made an advance. He knows now, even if Jay doesn’t.

And it’s interesting, the show of intimacy that follows this. The lovely scene where Jay is seen snoozing on Bob’s shoulder. Now, it’s entirely possible that this was always standard for Jay and Bob. It’s not necessarily suggestive for people to snooze on each other anyway, even for very repressed young men. But, personally, I cannot see this happening between the Jay and Bob of the Jersey Trilogy era, who seem to have so many thorns between them. It’s also true that Bob is Jay’s muscle, as well as his friend, and he has been protecting Jay for a while. But, the look of fury when Jay gets knocked out? This cannot have been the first time Bob has seen Jay get a smack. Bob’s function in the partnership is to prevent this from happening, which probably means it happens often. And he doesn’t just hit Loki back, he tries to throttle him. But, as we have established, something in Bob’s feeling towards Jay has changed.

I don’t believe Bob instantly fell in love with Jay during “Dogma”. I think he possibly had one or two thoughts that went previously unrealised, but compared to Jay, he’s miles behind on the self discovery path, and that’s saying something. I think it took all the way to “Clerks II” for Bob to figure out his feelings for Jay. By which point Jay then had to catch up, or at least fess up.

What I do think is that his heart really, really softened towards Jay when he got that window into what he had been dealing with. That his affection and protectiveness grew tenfold, when Jay suddenly became so much more complicated and precious than he had known. And I think he either offered, or just allowed Jay to settle on him, on the train, maybe for the first time. And when Loki punched Jay out, Bob lost it, because he knew then how much he means to Jay, and he knew what he could have lost all along.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Buffalo Bill

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Back in 2019, I started Psycho Analysis with a review of one of cinema’s most overshadowed and underrated villains. Now that I’m better at this, I've decided I'm redoing those old reviews, giving them a fresh coat of paint, fitting them into the modern Psycho Analysis style, and updating the scores. I figured there’s no better place to start than with good ol’ Jame Gumb.

Jame Gumb (yes, Jame, he doesn’t have an “S” in his name) is the enigmatic serial killer from The Silence of the Lambs known as Buffalo Bill. He’s left a trail of flayed women in his wake, his motives unknown, and it’s up to Clarice Starling to stop him with a little help from a smarmy cannibal asshole. He’s the perfect sort of twisted, perverted freak you’d hope to find in a grim, gritty detective story. In fact, he almost seems a bit uncontroversial and unremarkable in terms of villains, doesn’t he?

Oh, if only. Unfortunately, there are aspects of Bill’s character that have made him the second most controversial villain of 90s cinema after Ray Finkle from Ace Ventura: Pet Detective. And we’re going to discuss all of that, because the big question when discussing Bill ultimately isn’t whether he’s good or bad, but is he good despite the unfortunate implications he ends up carrying due to what is and isn’t adapted from the book?

Motivation/Goals: Bill just wants to play dress up. Unfortunately, his idea of dressing up involves skinning women and then sewing said skin into a woman suit he can wear to dance about in his underground dungeon, penis tucked between his legs. To accomplish this Ed Gein-esque goal, he uses the playbooks of other killers like Ted Bundy to lure in unsuspecting women of considerable girth, traps them in a well in his basement, and forces them through a strict skin care regiment until it’s time to kill and skin them.

All of this is just incredibly fucked up, and also isn’t elaborated on to quite the degree the novel does due to Bill not being a character we focus on to gain real insight into. The full reveal of his plan is a shocking twist, but we don’t have the full psychological scope of his actions that was laid bare in the novel; while it doesn’t diminish Gumb in my opinion, it does leave the door open for some… problematic readings of what he’s up to, which we’ll discuss later.

Performance: While I don’t think I could possibly say he is an actor who manages to achieve the lofty heights of Hopkins, Ted Levine is still absolutely fantastic in his role. He’s an actor who always manages to inject his characters with a sort of unsettling air; just look at his brief appearance in Shutter Island if you need proof of this. Those skills are put to good use here, as he manages to make Gumb truly unnerving, and arguably far more realistic in his depiction of a serial killer than Lecter is.

Final Fate: After stalking Clarice Starling through his blackened basement while wearing night vision goggles, the tables are turned on Bill and the hunter becomes the hunted as Clarice unloads her gun into him. It’s a rather fitting death; as he preyed on women at their most vulnerable, it only makes sense that a woman strip him of all his power when he appears to be in control.

Evilness: I really don’t think there is any good argument against Bill getting the full 10/10. I mean, the man skins women so that he can wear their skin as a suit. How much fucking worse can a person even be in a story like this? It says a lot that Lecter comes off as more reasonable and less evil than the guy (even though this is decidedly not the case).

Best Scene: You know what it is:

And it’s even Jay and Silent Bob approved!

Really gotta compliment the song choice here; Q Lazzarus’ ominous dance tune “Goodbye Horses” forever had its image altered by its use here, but it really heightens the mood and feeds in to the unsettling nature of Bill’s dance. You can’t hear the opening notes of the song without this scene immediately coming to mind. And to think, its inclusion was all because she happened to pick up director Johnathan Demme in her taxi during a blizzard and showed him her demo tape.

Best Quote: From the above scene, Bill drops one of the most famous serial killer quotes in cinematic history:

“Would you fuck me? I’d fuck me. I’d fuck me so hard.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Buffalo Bill is horrendously underrated as a villain, though clearly there are some out there who appreciate him (Seth Green for example, who based Chris Griffin’s voice in Family Guy off of Buffalo Bill’s). That being said, the movie unfortunately ends up dipping into problematic territory as by excising most of the elaboration from the novel, Bill can unfortunately be read as an unflattering depiction of a trans woman.

Now you and I know that isn’t true, and anyone else who has read the book knows it isn’t true, but do you really think the average moviegoer in the early 90s cared about that? They see the freaky man dancing around with his schlong tucked away, wearing a woman’s skin, and find it unsettling and grotesque. It is incredibly easy to see how someone could see this as something akin to a villain in a crappy JKR detective novel, and it really didn’t have to be that way because the book really goes out of its way to not demonize trans people; while a bit outdated by modern standards, the book explains that trans people are not inherently violent and that Gumb is merely deluding himself into believing he is trans as some sort of warped justification for his actions. It even pointing out he was rejected for gender reasignment surgery. The movie has a few lines, but that’s kind of disappointing compared to the original novel, isn’t it? Then again, perhaps over-explaining would lead to the same criticisms the ending of Psycho gets, where laying things out for the audience in a way that tries not to demonize marginalized individuals is seen as tacky and unneeded.

Considering that Gumb was inspired by real life killers and their motivations (particularly Ed Gein, who has a higher number of fictional characters inspired by him than he does victims) and because I read the book, I don’t necessarily find his portrayal all that offensive, but I am a cis guy. If you do find his character tasteless, I won’t exactly blame you. It’s a rather unfortunate side effect of the transition from book to film that we lost the details that would ameliorate the problematic image of the character. With all that said, I still think he gets an 8.5/10. He’s certainly not as iconic as Lecter is and he’s too problematic to score any higher, but he is a very effective villain for the film he’s in and Levine’s performance is chilling and entrancing.

If nothing else, his existence led to the greatest open RP of all time. That’s gotta count for something.

[definitelynotaminion]

Rated "R" for Robin, Ch. 3 pt. 1

This is a continuation of sneak peaks for Chapter 3 of this jaytim fic (on ao3, 2 chapters 11.7k). The full wip of chapter 3 is up on my patreon, if you’re interested (the full fic is up to about 15,500 words so far). Otherwise I'll just be sharing chapter 3 in small bites here until it's finished and goes on ao3. The tag is going to be rated r 3 or if you want to start from the first post of chapter 3/chrono order, here.

-

“I was never this fucking small,” Jason insists, crowding right up on him, right up in his space. Fuck, he gets a feel for the shape of that armor under his hands.

“Hrk.” Tim says, intelligently.

“This armor weighs more than you do, what the fuck, Re-- Tim.”

And Tim is just in his arms, all armor and Gotham rain dripping off of it, and Jason can see the fucking-- flush on his wind-whipped cheeks!

The way Tim sucks in air and blushes for his name, not any kind of insult or mocking variant. He looks a little bit like he wants to run away, and that just won’t do.

But of course, before Jason can even grip him tighter, Tim is kicking that fear down-- kicking the darkness away-- and finding all that Robin bravery-- not bravado, not this time, not when it matters-- and leaning into this instead.

“...Jay.” He says, almost softly, and there’s a flutter at his throat. Adam’s apple just fucking-- bobbing-- and yeah, this close, even in the shitty lighting.

“I’m sorry.” Jason says roughly, thumbing at the fucking scar along his throat, hair-thin, almost invisible.

Tim fights away from him-- no, he’s just going for the domino, and he must have already applied the release outside in preparation but there’s no way it doesn’t still rip.

Then the red mask is just gone and Jason reflexively reaches behind him to yank the curtain closed with one hand, the other still flexed on Tim’s armor, on the fucking-- mean little chest piece--

Tim gives him his eyes, a cold fucking blue. Light, like the kind of skies you just didn’t see in Gotham-- metropolis, maybe. It strikes him like the glaciers he saw in cold ass countries on a grim ass mission, when he wasn’t all there.

He didn’t know he had this-- could have had this-- to come home to at the time.

It’s a strange experience, suddenly wanting to kick his own ass. Things had certainly seemed justified at the time, and yet.

Yet.

“Robin.” Jason says, and yep-- strangled noise, right on queue, and Tim’s cheeks are so red. Oh, he can’t help but smirk like an asshole, except it’s a more crooked grin-- a younger grin-- showing some of his teeth.

Tim just is that breathless, right in his arms, staring like he can’t get enough, like he’s. Just. Absolutely frozen.

[horseshoegirl]

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 17 - Come a Little Bit Closer

📖 One of my friends who beta-read this for me pointed out there is a scene in here that is very similar to one in Ted Lasso (I've never seen it, though there are a lot of people in my life telling me I should now); so I'm just mentioning there might be a similarity.

There is also something in here that people have been waiting for. Albeit, it's probably not the one scene everyone wants, given recent events. But someone(s) gets karma'd 👀

❗️+18, strong language, godmother reader/original female character, mentions of an original child character, angst, mentions of shitty family dynamics, physical fights, Ruthless Dagger Squad, violence, verbal fights, and mentions of blood.

#7k words

Part 16 | Masterlist | Part 18

“Are you a fucking idiot, Bradley?!”

You slapped Rooster hard on the back of his head, the thwack anything but satisfying.

“He is, indeed, a fucking idiot,” Nat quipped next to you. Bradley frowned at you, rubbing the back of his head. “I thought you would be happy I got to him!”

“You do not invert over another pilot on your team, catch them in a fucking corkscrew, and make them hit the fucking hard deck! Regardless if they are my ex or an asshole!”

It was hopeless to think you could ever stop swearing in Penny’s bar, not when Bradley was still pulling stupid shit like that. Therapy was a big step, but you knew deep down it would take a little more than a few sessions to make him less impulsive.

Maybe even more so from behind the joystick of his jet.

Rooster threw his hands up defensively. "I was just trying to teach him a lesson. You know what he did to you!"

You shot him a look.

Bob rolled his eyes and leaned against the bar, crossing his arms. "And what exactly did you accomplish, Rooster? Besides nearly killing yourself and him?"

Bradley gave him a death glare.

“I don’t care why you did it!” You snapped, tapping the end of the bottle opener hard on the top of the bar as you made your point. “You put yourself and a teammate in danger! You’re lucky Maverick stepped in before you got kicked out!”

You spun the tool in your hand while rolling your eyes, quickly popping the caps off the row of beer bottles lined up in front of you in frustration. Placing one in front of Nat, you handed Bob’s to him with a stern look.

“One, Robert,” You said, holding up your finger. “One, and then I am cutting you off.”

He grabbed the neck of the bottle, nodding and throwing his hand back in what seemed to be a 'yeah, I get it' kind of way. You held back on Roosters, holding it out of his reach, engaging him in a staring contest.

"Promise me."

"Liz."

You shook your head.

"This is not something I'm being funny about, Bradley. Promise me you will not pull that shit again."

"You're being unfair; it was just a dogfight."

You raised your eyebrow, purposely glancing over at the barbell for a split second. "I'll ring the bell on you."

Bradley cocked his eyebrow at you. The bell was something he prided on, never happening to him before. "I'll tell your manager you've been providing bad customer service."

You shrugged. "Go ahead."

Penny would legitimately not care. She'd do more damage to Bradley by chewing him out than you ever could.

"You should see the Yelp reviews when they mention me when I ring the bell on assholes. I don't care. Promise me you won't put yourself in danger anymore just to prove a fucking point."

Rooster made no effort to tear his eyes away from you. 

"Bradley Bradshaw, do you promise me?!" you tried again. When he didn't reply for the second time, you raised your voice, "Lieutenant Bradshaw! Do you promise not to risk your fucking life over proving a point?!"

Bradley blinked.

"Yes, Ma'am."

You thumped the glass bottle to the top of the bar, sliding it towards him with a huff.

“Liz!” Jimmy called out. You turned in his direction with a smile, though you were anything but happy right now.

“The Jukebox is doing that thing again. Can you see what’s wrong?”

“Did you try hitting it?” you called back.

“Several times!”

You sighed. Walking to the other side of the bar, you stopped in front of Bradley, pointing your finger into his chest.

“You pull that shit again, therapy or not, I swear to god, Bradley..." You couldn't even formulate the rest of your sentence, throwing your hands up in frustration and letting out a garbled yell as you walked away.

You approached the Juxebox with a huff, grabbing the sides as you peered into the glass. The machine was turned on, but the needle hadn't touched the spinning disc.

Someone slung their arm over the top of the machine, startling you with an almost empty beer bottle in their hand. 

"First, it was the keg, now it's the jukebox. What else is on your hit list, darlin'?"

You stiffened.

You hadn't seen Jake since that night. The minute you managed to get the courage to leave Rooster's Bronco, you cleared out your house of anything to do with him, his overnight bag sitting on your porch when you went to pick up Sadie.

It was gone when you came back home.

And It was suddenly like he hadn’t existed. You hadn’t found yourself going through what you assumed was the traditional aftermath of breaking up with someone. You hadn’t eaten a tub of ice cream, binged rom-coms or cried your eyes out except on the drive home. 

And that had been it.

No calls. No texts. No apologies. 

Without turning to face him, you remarked sarcastically, "Your over-inflated ego, but something tells me I'm going to need something bigger than a broken jukebox to take down."

Jake glanced at the machine, knocking it hard with the side of his boot.

You don't know what was worse, that the machine came to life or that it started up in the middle of the song, 'Come a Little Bit Closer' by Jay and the Americans, started up in the most ironic part.

Come a little bit closer. You're my kind of man, so big and so strong.

The quip fell easy from your lips. “Oh, what do you know, a knight in shining armour, solving all my problems.”

You don't know what you were trying to achieve by being like this. You just wanted him gone. But Jake didn't leave. Instead, he smiled at you. "You always have a way with words, don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. Snatching the bottle from his grip, you turned on your heel.

"What are you doing here, Jake?" you called out, knowing he would follow you.

"I just want to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you."

He quicked his pace, jogging up and interrupting your path. You stopped, gritting your teeth and twisting your hand away from him in frustration.

"Liz, please."

You huffed. You finally met his eyes, your gaze hard. “What is there to say, Jake? What could you say to me other than I was another bartender on your list? I just wish you had the common decency not to involve my niece in this, you asshole.” 

He opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a shout across the bar. 

"Jake!"

George had called out to his brother, surrounded by a group of women. When Jake turned at the mention of his name, George was already waving him over.

You couldn't blame the women shooting him flirty glances, eyeing him up and down like a piece of meat. You just wished the pang in your chest didn't hurt as much as it did.

"Go ahead," you offered with a tense smile. "You made your intentions known. You are free to do whatever the hell you want now."

Jake faced you, his expression faltering as the edges of his mouth twitched, failing miserably to hold on to some semblance of confidence.

"You don't think I know that?" he remarked. "I think about it all the time."

“You should've thought of a lot of things before, Jake," you sighed, stepping backwards and away from him. "Don’t start on my account now.”

---

Why George had decided to stick around, Jake had no idea why. Maybe it was insurance that the damage he had done was permanent. 

Jake just wanted him to get the hell out of dodge. 

He wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation he’d been roped into when you walked away from him. He had no other choice but to walk over and let George introduce him to the two ladies he had been flirty with. 

Jake knew what George was doing. He was trying to entice him back into his old ways. It was clear as day to anyone George would be going home with this woman tonight. 

The other one, he thought her name was Bree or something along those lines, was trying to engage him in a conversation, batter her eyes or flirt. But he hadn’t so much as blinked, too caught up in how you shot him down and walked away from him. 

It wasn’t until George opened his mouth to answer a question that Jake snapped out of his trance and caught the last end of his sentence. 

“I guess having played football in high school makes it easier. My throwing hand is awesome when playing darts, though.”

That pipped his interest.

"Since when have you played darts?" he finally spoke up. 

"Since we hired a few new ranch hands,” George shrugged. “All they want to do is drink, sleep, and play darts. It's great for introducing yourself to other ranch owners. I practically win them over each time," he remarked, trying to throw in a bit of modesty.

The gears started to grind in Jake's head. And slowly but surely, the cocky-ass Mona Lisa smile came back. 

He nodded towards the dartboard. "Wanna play a game?"

George raised his eyebrow, taking a swing of his beer, "Want something else to lose your dignity to?"

Jake's grin didn't lessen. In fact, there was a certain glint in his eyes when he replied, "Something like that."

---

A crowd had gathered around the dart board while they had been playing. Practically, the whole bar was suddenly invested in this little game.

And you, leaning up against a pillar next to Bob, who had ushered you away from your post for a few seconds to watch the end of the game. Your arms were crossed, and you had a slight frown, watching him with sad eyes.

It was clear you wanted to be back behind the bar, not standing here, watching the person responsible for your broken heart play a fucking game of darts.

It wasn't even really a game. Jake could land a bullseye with his eyes literally closed. The regulars knew it, too. So, why was he purposely throwing darts with his non-dominant hand? You had no idea.

From what you could tell from when you were behind the bar, he still played well enough. They went for the long haul, starting at 501 points and slowly working their way down. Coyote and Rooster had decided to keep track, using the chalkboard on the side. George had led throughout the game and was still leading, but Jake was always close by enough to make it interesting.

Then George landed enough points that if Jake didn't get exactly what he needed to on his turn, George would win the game with his next. You didn't know why Bob pulled you over here; maybe it was to see Jake lose. Or to see George fail.

You have yet to determine which would be the better option at this point. And yet, you still couldn't bring yourself to step away.

You leaned over to Bob to ask, "What does he need to win?"

Bob sighed. "Two triples in the 20 slot and a bullseye. The bullseye needs to be last."

"What are the stakes?" you frowned.

Bob only shook his head next to you. "Nothing, from what I know."

George spun from his position, smiling at everyone cheering for him. He came to stand next to Jake, patting him hard on the back a few times.

"I don't know if you were trying to prove something, brother," he laughed, "But good game. We should do this again sometime."

Jake did the one thing he wanted to do his whole life.

He laughed at his brother.  

"George, I never understood why you've had this grudge against me for my entire life," he said, stepping out of George’s grip on his shoulder. 

Jake twirled the dart between two of his fingers, shaking his head. With a little sleight of hand, you watched as he switched his grip, the dart now in his dominant hand. You stood from leaning against the pillar and uncrossed your arms.

"You had it all. Dad's approval, the football career. All the girls flocking to your side in high school. You’ve spent your entire life under his thumb, chasing approval.”

He cut his eyes to you, seeing the frown on your face, and knew he had to continue. Stepping up to the mark, he squared his shoulders, eyeing the board.

“Trust me when I say this - you might've been the chosen one in Dad's eyes, but out here, in the real world? That doesn't mean shit."

Jake threw his first dart, the spike landing within the safety of the triple twenty. Everyone watching caught their breath in surprise.

Jake's smirk grew bolder, the fiery confidence he was known for blazing in his eyes as he looked back at his brother.  "Do you want to know what I would have said to you the day you were talking shit about Liz and Sadie?"

A quiet gasp escaped your lips.

George's mouth twitched.

“I agreed with you for one thing and one thing only. I know I won’t be welcomed back,” he stated. “I couldn’t give a damn if I am.” 

Something burned deep inside Jake’s chest as he pushed on, needing George to hear what he was saying desperately. 

" Sadie? She sees right through your bullshit. But she will not hesitate to stand up for someone if she thinks they are being mistreated. She’s so mature for her age, and I am damn proud to be her uncle.” 

He knew he shouldn’t have called himself that but was too caught up to care. 

“And Liz? The world throws so much bullshit at her, and she still chooses to be kind, even when she still buries her grief, because she doesn’t want her niece to see her cry.” 

Jake shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “I found people who, despite knowing my flaws, chose to stand by me. Not hold them against me.”

Jake threw the second dart, hitting the board next to his previous dart within the rim. 

"I remember all the nights you came home, mirroring Dad's words, telling me how worthless I was.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Now I just realize you were literally copying everything he had to say to you from that day. Making yourself feel better.”

He'd never admit Rooster forcing the both of them in a Corkscrew is what made him realize it. He had been regurgitating every diminishing word and sentence his father had screamed at him growing up back at Rooster's face, hoping it would make him feel better.

He picked at the tail end of his dart, the weight of it familiar and comforting, before glancing at George's face.

"You ever heard of Roosevelt?" he asked nonchalantly. George eyed him carefully, "What does a dead president have to do with a game of darts?'

Jake had a conceited grin on his lips. "Well, he had this quote, and I'm probably butchering this, but he said critics don't count. Or the person who points out how we stumble or how someone could have done something better." 

Jake twisted from his mark on the ground, standing square in front of George as he continued to explain his point.

"Because the credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly... and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly."

Jake's voice was steady, but his eyes bore into George's with a fire. "All my life, George, I've been in that arena. I've stumbled and failed, but I didn't listen to someone from the sidelines telling me how to live my life."

Jake lifted his hand, never taking his eyes once off George.

"It's time I remembered that," he said, thinking about Sadie. "You shouldn't have to either."

He flicked his wrist forward, letting his dart fly.

Bullseye.

He heard the thump of the dart hitting the board, and cheers erupted throughout the Hard Deck. Jake had thrown a dart enough times to know whether or not it had hit its mark; he didn't need to look. Even Rooster was laughing at the utter shock and disbelief across George's face.

"I'm living my life, George," he said, patting him on his shoulder, leaving his hand there. "It's about time you did the same."

For once in his life, Jake had managed to stand up to his brother. But the moment wasn't as satisfactory as he might have imagined - He found himself thinking it didn't matter.

Because as he stepped away from George to look back to where you had been, he realized you hadn't been there to see it.

---

Your shift came and went in a blur after Jake and George’s dart game. The squad still hung back well past closing hours, watching and even helping as you closed up the bar, except Rooster, who was messing around on the piano.

Jake was still here. And George. 

They had been out on the patio for over an hour now, simply talking. You tried not to pay them much mind as you tried to get through your remaining tasks quickly, but you couldn’t help but look out the back windows occasionally, unable to take your eyes off the Seresin brothers for long.

George approached Jake soon after he escaped the crowds. There had been no fights, no punches thrown or someone storming out. In fact, every time you looked up, the two seemed to be inching closer to each other.

Damn him and that cocky grin. Why'd he have to be so... Jake?

You didn’t want to be a spectator to Jake’s theatrics during that display during their dart game. Leaving before he threw that last dart, you were now questioning yourself… if you walked away to shield yourself or to punish him. 

While he stood up for himself against George, in the back of your mind, there was an insistent voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, that display was also for you too. 

Some of you ached at the idea of him seeking validation and needing to prove himself. And that's what hurt the most: that deep down, under layers of stubbornness and hurt, you still cared for him.

If it was, you weren’t ready. Not for this. Not for answers or explanations. You deserved more than whatever that was. 

But you still heard him. Heard everything he said to George.  

You really didn’t know what to make of it. 

The sound of the front door slamming up against the wall, rattling some of the portrait frames, startled you from your thoughts. There was a momentary thought of remembering you really needed to lock the front door when you were closing, but it was washed away just as quickly as it came.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Tyler’s body as he charged forward, finger pointed towards you with a seething glare. “You fucking bitch!”

You stepped backwards, the sharp edge of the sink hitting your spine hard. A few glasses jolted from the force of it, sliding off the ledge and shattering to the ground. Rooster’s playing stopped immediately, and the piano bench toppled to the ground.

Was it anger? Shock? Disbelief the past few weeks of not seeing him coursing through your veins responsible for your reaction? You knew Tyler was dangerous, but deep down, you hated how easily you cowered at his appearance.

Tyler didn't get very far in his effort to get to you. Bradley came out of nowhere, something out of a comic, with his fist flying, punching Tyler square in the jaw.

“That was for Sadie, you bastard!”

Unfortunately for Bradley, Tyler only keeled over briefly before taking a swing. Rooster had not been prepared for him to retaliate, thinking his punch would have been enough to put the asshole on the ground.

Tyler had taken more punches and hits to the face as a football player than the average person would in their life. While Jake had managed to get him on the ground when he tried to kidnap Sadie, and Rooster was fitter than the average person, it would take much more than Jake and Bradley combined to keep Tyler there.

The uppercut to Bradley’s jaw could be heard from miles away, and you could only stand there, watching helplessly, as Bradley crashed backwards into a wooden table, his name a cry on your lips as the pieces scattered.

Whether or not they heard your cry or the commotion, the rest of the Daggers swarmed the island bar as Tyler watched Bradley roll on the ground amongst the splinters in some twisted sense of pride.

Whether you could realize it at the time or not, that would be his biggest mistake.

Nat was the first one there, the first one to put herself between you and Tyler, readying herself in case he tried to leap over the bar to get to you. Javy, Fanboy and Payback had run from opposite sides of the room to surround Rooster and Tyler, Bradley finally rolling himself off the broken table on the ground and pulling himself up.

And Jake, almost breaking the sliding door as he bolted inside to get to you, George on his heels. Rooster was too happy to stand beside him as Jake placed himself before everyone else, this hand twitching in anticipation of a fight.

"This is the one who did all that?"

Jake side-eyed George as he came up from the back to flank him on his other side.

"What?" he remarked, puffing out his chest and not once taking his eyes off Tyler. "I'm not that much of an asshole to know that's not how we treat women. Or children. We should drag his ass back to Texas and show him some southern hospitality."

Nat cocked her head at Tyler, speaking up from her spot next to the bar. "You must be a complete idiot to walk back in here after what you did to them."

Tyler shrugged, a sickening smile on his face. "I've got nothing left to lose. Literally."

"What, Daddy cut you off and kicked you out?" Rooster asked, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth.

With the presence of your friends, you managed to calm down a little bit. You were still scared, which would never change as long as you could see his face, but you could take in Tyler's state more clearly.

Dark circles under his eyes. Blonde hair, greasy. He was still wearing that same freaking white sweater, only it looked like it hadn't been washed in days.

Rooster was right. Tyler had been cut off, indeed.

Fanboy and Payback, having realized what was going on, went to either exit to stand guard. You weren't sure whether to keep people out or keep someone in. But Tyler hadn’t noticed. He was too preoccupied to remove his eyes from Jake.

You watched as Tyler glanced at everyone around the bar, obviously bothered by Rooster's remark but not addressing it. "Seeing a lot of protectors here. Must be that 'Navy bravado,' huh? All show, no substance. We've all seen how they fail when it matters most.”

Ironically, it was George who intervened first. “This isn’t your place, man. Walk away before you get hurt.” 

Tyler flicked his eyes between Jake and George, a smirk playing on his lips, “This is interesting. Another misguided soul ready to join this little squad over here?” 

George smiled at him, nodding at Tyler, cracking his knuckles, “Just somebody who doesn’t like your face.” 

Your voice was hoarse, vocal cords feeling like they were being dragged over jagged rocks, when you asked, “What the hell are you doing here, Tyler?” 

He didn’t even give you the courtesy of looking at you when he replied, “Respect! What else? 

Jake scoffed with amusement, "By wearing that dirty sweater and showing up here drunk and messed up? You're doing a great job, really. I applaud you."

Tyler doubled back with that all-too-familiar smug smirk, " Alright, saw through that one, did you,” He chuckled before he teased. “I came to see how Sadie's holding up. It must be hard, having her favourite play-hero away. Unless you've moved up from being her 'uncle' to something more."

Jake's face immediately paled, his entire demeanour changing from cocky to pure rage in a fraction of a second. The atmosphere in the room grew dense with tension. "You say her name again, and I'll make sure it's the last word you ever speak."

Still grinning but with an undercurrent of faux uncertainty, Tyler raised his hands in mock surrender, "Just stating facts, Jake."

George, sensing the danger in his brother, whispered a warning, "Easy, Jake."

But Jake's voice came out as a dangerous whisper, all restraint seemingly gone, "You wanna dance? Let's fucking dance."

Jake charged, tackling Tyler to the ground as you stood there wide-eyed and in shock. Rooster and Coyote flanked the grappling pair while George kneeled, calling out to Jake all the spots Tyler was leaving himself open. The sound of flesh hitting flesh accompanied Jake’s punches, and you couldn't bring yourself to look away.

A startled cry escaped your lips as you felt someone put their hands on your cheeks, turning you away from the fight and wiping away your tears. Bob had somehow found his way into the bar with you and was currently forcing you to stare at his face.

“Nope, you don’t need to witness any of this.”

"How much trouble are they going to get into because of this?" you asked, scared out of your mind. Bar fights were a thing that could get you kicked out of the Navy.

Bob glanced over to the fight. Nat was walking towards the back door, her phone pressed to her ear, no doubt calling the police. As his eyes tracked back to Tyler, George and Javy had now joined the fight, the elder Seresin brother grabbing Tyler by the back of his neck and his belt, tossing him like a bale of hay onto the top of a nearby table as Rooster surprisingly helped Jake up from the floor.

The legs splintered under the force with a sickening crack. It wasn’t until you shuttered at the sound and let out a soft whimper between his hands he remembered you asked him a question.

"None," his voice was firm. "As far as anyone knows, he walked in here like that."

"Bob..." you whimpered. He stroked a piece of hair away from your face soothingly. "I'm not going to be the one that says he doesn't deserve what's coming to him. Tyler’s not walking out of here now. He literally signed his own death sentence."

Deep down, you knew that. Tyler against not one, but three navy pilots and Jake’s brother? There was no way he was walking away from that.

The sound of glass shattering caused you to jolt again.

"Penny's so going to fire me after this," you managed to say through tears. Bob gave you an affectionate smile. "No way, you're the best bartender she's had in years. You put up with so much shit, and Sadie would no doubt give her two cents. She seems to be doing that a lot lately."

"Bobby..." you huffed through a sob. "You've never heard you swear before."

He shrugged, wiping away one of your tears. "I guess there's a first time for everything."

Bob hadn't covered your ears. He was only keeping your eyes off the ongoing violence. So you could hear everything going on. There were no more crashes, glass breaking, or wood splitting in two. You could only hear the rhythmic sound of flesh hitting hard flesh.

The next cry out of Tyler's mouth made you stiffen.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth!" he gave an almost whine as Bradley laid a punch to his stomach. "I'm sorry for all of it!"

Oh.

Fuck.

No.

Where you were once scared, pure anger builds in your stomach. You pull Bob’s hands away from your face, swatting away his feeble attempts to reach for you. You marched towards the exit doors of the bar, rounding the corner to get to the group.

Jake saw you approaching first with a sharp lift of his head, tapping George on the shoulder, who looked up at his brother before his eyes landed on you, catching on instantly. He grabbed Tyler by the back of his sweater, hoisting him up onto his knees before changing his grip to the middle of his back. Jake gritted his teeth as he tugged Tyler's head back with a vice grip on his hair.

You kneeled down in front of him, taking in his face.

Even bruised and bloody, Tyler looked nothing like the egotistical sociopath you knew him to be. Nothing like the villain that stalked you months before this or when he walked into the bar all those weeks ago.

This version of Tyler looked desperate, unhinged, but on the verge of a last straw. You couldn't say seeing that white hoodie stained red was unpleasurable. To say he had nothing left to lose was one thing, but seeing it across his battered face was another.

“You’re sorry?” you snarked. “You’re sorry you abused my sister? Are you sorry you killed her? Sorry, you tried to kidnap my niece?!”

You wanted to nail him across the face. You wanted to know the absolute pain and heartache and suffering he had put you through. He took Ridley from you. He hurt Sadie. He hurt you.

But then you took in the room, Jake and George kneeling behind him. Bradley and Javy standing by, ready to pounce the second he might try to escape. And the state of the bar, the damage sobering your thoughts.

No questions asked.

You noticed the ties of his sweater were out of place. Lifting your hand, you fixed one back into place, smoothing the string down before looking him dead in the eye.

"I could fucking care less."

Approaching sirens could be heard outside the bar, making everyone hold their punches. You stood, turning your back on the display to rejoin Bob, who had followed you out from the relative safety of the bar.

You wouldn't give Tyler the satisfaction. Ultimately, he was still a narcissist, wanting a reaction.

"Tie him up," you heard Jake command. Despite Bob urging you not to look once again, you couldn't help yourself. You needed to see this. To see Tyler caught and unable to do anything but accept his fate.

You needed to know you and Sadie were safe.

Coyote was handing George a sailor's rope he had torn off the wall, having pulled the twisted pieces apart. Jake pressed his knee down onto Tyler's back, pinning him to the floor as George quickly hog-tied his hands together, not that he'd be going anywhere. The group of men had done enough damage. Tyler wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

Everything happened so quickly in the moments after. The police burst through the front door. George was holding up some sort of badge, and you were suddenly rushed out into the parking lot by Bob and Nat.

Penny was already there, greeting you outside with extreme worry in her eyes, sweeping you up into a hug the second she saw you. She was trying to console you, tell you Sadie was safe with Mav and that you would be alright. You didn’t realize you started shaking until she pulled back in concern to ask what had happened.

Your breath hitched as you shakily joked, “I promise I’m not purposely wrecking your bar. I don't know where these assholes come from."

Penny huffed out a laugh and a sad smile. Biting her lip, she reached out and stroked your hair at the side of your face as only a mother could. She tugged you into her hold, refusing to let you go.

You don't know how long you stood there until Nat tapped you on the shoulder. She pulled you into her side and looped her arm around Penny's, holding you upright as the front door of the Hard Deck opened. A pair of Police officers were dragging Tyler out, still hog-tied and a mess. George was behind them, following them while speaking to another officer.

When you watched the police car containing Tyler in the back seat roll off into the distance, and a tow truck rolled that stupid white piece of machinery away, you finally felt like you could breathe.

Tyler's frightening hold over both you and Sadie was over.

And yet, it wasn’t as much of a relief as it should have been.

---

You wanted to stay away from the Choas unfolding in and around the Hard Deck. 

Taking the first chance you could, you escaped when nobody was looking, eventually finding yourself sitting in Penny's chair on the beach. 

Less than a year ago, you were sitting in the chair, unaware of what was about to happen to you. You who were desperately trying to get through a book by reading the same page twice. Gawking at a pilot playing Dog fight football who you knew was off limits, trying to get by till the following Saturday night. 

Then Ridley's ex came for you and Sadie. You had fallen in love with said pilot. Learned your sister was murdered. Your best friend hurt your feelings. You had gotten your heart broken by said pilot. 

You didn't know what was worse, the fact you had seen and experienced all this trauma, or that Ridley's death and abscene were still triumphing over all that. 

You jolted when someone placed a blanket around your shoulders.

George Seresin retracted his hands just as quickly as he placed the blanket around you, holding them up in surrender. 

You didn't have anything to say to him, choosing to remain stoic as he lowered himself into the sand, sitting with his back in front of the armrest of your chair. 

It was a full minute before he finally spoke. 

"I need to apologize, Liz."

You scoffed, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. "Apologize for the derogatory display of how you treat women? Or what you said to Jake to make him act the way he did?" 

At least this time, George had the decency to look shameful. 

"If his words at the dart game weren't any indication, I know you egged him on. He was trying to get you to back off, in his own twisted away.” 

"I still need to apologize. For all of it," he sighed, rubbing his temples. "It wasn't my place to do that to the two of you." 

"Yours is not the one I need right now," you spat, lifting your feet off the ground and curling into the depths of the chair. 

Either one of you spoke for a few minutes after that. George seemed to ponder his thoughts, scanning the horizon but not finding anything. The waves were both loud and quiet, making the world smaller than it actually was.

You couldn't handle it. 

"Do you realize the gravity of what you did, George?" you said heatedly, uncurling yourself from the chair and submerging your feet into the sand. "You weren't just egging him on. You were meddling in someone's relationship because your father asked you to."  

"Yes, I know." 

"Do you know how fucked up that is?" 

"Jake doing that grand display with the darts painted a pretty clear picture in my head." 

You rolled your eyes. "When was the last time you asked yourself if you were truly happy, George?"

George thought about it for a second before he replied, "When I became the livestock official back home."

"And let me guess, you made that decision all on your own, without any influence from your father?"

He looked down at the sand, grabbing a handful before watching it fall back to the ground. "Kind of. When I got the ranch, it wasn't by choice. But this felt like the first one I could make by myself."

"You just proved everything that Jake said, right." 

You huffed, frustration evident. "How do you plan on making up to him?"

George took a deep breath, steadying himself. "By supporting Jake genuinely in whatever he chooses. And by ensuring our father doesn't come between you two again."

Your eyes searched his for any sign of deceit, but all you saw was raw honesty. 

"Jake loves you. It's clear as day. Don't let this get between the two of you." 

You spat out a laugh, a high-pitchy sound you hoped would tell him you saw right through his bullshit. "Right."

"Liz, he didn't agree with the BS I was spilling to agree with me. Don't hold it against him."

 "But he went through with it," you countered. "Even if it was some twisted idea of dealing with all the bullshit you and the rest of your family throw at him save Janet, he still said those things. He still hurt me."

You threw yourself back into your chair instead. "I don't know anymore, George. I don't know what to think anymore." 

George dropped his head to his chest, furrowing his brow. "You know, you didn't allow him to explain that day. Or today even." 

That made you sit up. "Are you saying I should have?"

"I'm saying," he replied, "Whatever happened to giving someone a chance to know that people care? Even when other people think they don't deserve it?"

"That's different."

Maybe," he nodded. "But something is missing. I think that's only rooted in what other people think, not when they've done something to you." 

George's words made your voice catch in your throat.

"Give him a chance to explain, Liz. Just listen to what he has to say. Then make your decision." 

Suddenly you were wishing for the asshole from a week ago. Because, deep down, you knew he was right. 

"George, I mean this in the nicest way possible. You have potential. Listen to what your brother told you. You can't have your father tell you what to do for the rest of your life." 

He glanced down to the sand but tilted his head towards you so you knew he was still listening to what you had to say. 

"Ridley and I... My sister... We went through the same thing with our father. And I was so young, I didn't know any better. But she got us out before any more damage could be done. You still can get out. You don't need him in your life." 

"Is it wrong for me to want his approval?" 

You bit your lip, surprised at his question. "No. He's your father. It's natural you'd want that. But you shouldn't have to change who you are. You shouldn't have to seek his approval when he hasn't been someone worthy of giving it." 

George nodded, more to himself than to you, finally managing to mumble, "Jake is lucky to have you in his life. Sadie, too."

Even after everything that happened today, you still gave him a soft smile. "You're not that bad, George,” you said before adding, “When you want to be.”

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning upward slightly. "Don't let it get to my head. I might end up like Jake."

You reached over and patted his shoulder. "That wouldn't be a bad thing."

---

George left you a little while ago when an officer sought him out to take a statement. The night air was nipping at your skin, even with the blanket around your shoulders, and yet, you didn’t know how you would sleep after this, the adrenaline spike still showing no signs of slowing down. 

You didn’t know what to feel, the myriad of emotions thrown at you over the past week, month, and even year - any one of them would have sufficed. But you couldn’t bring yourself to figure it out. To live through any of them.

You just wanted to get through the rest of the day.

Dragging your feet through the sand, you made your way up the back steps of the Hard Deck’s back patio, shutting the door behind you. Shrugging the blanket off your shoulders, you gently placed it on the pool table, readying yourself to take in the true extent of the damage Tyler had wrought on the place.

The bar was dimly lit, save for the neon flashes of red and blue pulsing through the windows. There were splintered pieces of wood from the broken tables still littering the room, chairs overturned and scattered menus. With shards of glass and the thick smell of alcohol, you hated seeing the bar in such a state.

And in the middle of it all, Jake, sitting on a barstool with his head bowed and his hands resting on his knees. It was a stark image, seeing Jake’s knuckles bloody and bruised, his hair dishevelled. Looking less than himself. Utterly defeated.

It was a moment you weren’t supposed to see. A moment nobody was supposed to see.

And yet…

He didn’t hear your footsteps as you went behind the bar to grab a clean cloth, nor did he hear you take a metal bowl from under the sink and fill it with water. Or the ruckus as you fought with the first aid box.

It was only when you reached for one of his hands, having come to stand in front of him to run that cloth over his skin, that he jolted out of whatever stupor he had found himself in.

“Liz, I…”

You shook your head, shushing him. “Not now, Jake. Not tonight.”

He let you clean the blood from his hands. Let you dab at the split skin surrounding his knuckles. He was stiff as you worked, eyes tracking your every movement, from how you delicately held the bottom of his hand to watching you ring the cloth over the bowl. The water had already turned red by the second time you’d cleaned the fabric.

You reached for some antiseptic from the first aid kit, tilting the bottle forward as your finger held the cotton swab in place. Jake hissed when you placed the soaked cotton swab on his raw skin, his other hand shooting out quickly to grip your wrist tight.

His touch did feel like Sandpaper. But it wasn't as coarse, not as rough as you made yourself believe. You halted your fingers, the cotton swab falling to the floor at the shock of his touch.

“Sorry,” a quiet murmur on your lips. Jake eye’s darkened, a flicker of something passing through. He loosened his grip on your wrist but didn’t let go, letting his fingers slide loosely down to your wrist. You followed his touch, watching as careful fingers caressed the palm of your hand.

"You don't have to do this, Liz," he stated, his voice rough.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, keeping your eyes fixated on his hand. "Someone has to. You certainly won’t."

"You're always caring for me."

You reached with your free hand for another cotton swab, but Jake stopped you, meeting your hand with his. He brought it down, and you let him pull you gently into the space between his legs. 

"Do I deserve it?" He whispered, playing with your fingers. "Especially from you."

You swallowed hard. "That's up to you. But I can’t stand by and watch you be hurt."

You finally gathered the courage to look up at his face. It was a miracle Tyler didn’t do much damage other than a slight bruise along his forehead.

“Otherwise, you’ll go crazy,” he remarked, recalling when Sadie was in the hospital. "Even when I've hurt you."

"Jake..." his name a quiet plead on your lips.

He let his hands glide up your wrists to your forearms, the air between the two of you heated as he leaned forward, hooded gaze intent on your lips.

"If not tonight, when?" he whispered.

Your foreheads met, you more than him, allowing yourself to press your weight against his skin. The two of you came together like this, a series of almost kisses and burning moments that left the two of you wanting more. 

Except that was when you thought you couldn't have him when everyone was screaming at you not to get involved with him.

You're not sure what it is now. Because the person who swore so long ago never to let Jake be in a position where he could break your heart was crawling out from the depths, insisting you push him away and run for the hills.

But Jake's breath, mixing with yours, lulled you into his gentle pull, hands tugging you into him as you felt him lightly graze your lips with his.

What would it be like to memorize the touch of his lips one last time?

Penny’s voice startled the two of you, making the both of you jolt back and away from each other.

"Come on, all this wait till tomorrow."

Whether she was referring to the mess in the bar or your relationship, you couldn't tell. 

You cleaned up the first aid supplies as Jake switched holding an ice bag you gave him between his hands and face. Penny locked up the bar behind the pair of you once you finished, always standing between you and Jake.

He followed the both of you hesitantly into the parking lot, unsure what he could say or do.

At the last second, you turned. You looked up at him, really looked at him for the first time since you yelled at him that day in the Hard Deck, a quiet mummer and a sad smile on your lips as you said, "Thank you, Jake."

Then, with Penny guiding you with a hand around your shoulders, you left towards your car, keys in her hand.

He could only watch every step you took, watching as the distance between the pair of you grew, left wondering if there was still hope for him to make things up to you after all. 

Tag list: (I think I'm missing a few people, so if you want to be tagged, please let me know!)

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

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@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

-Wickett ;)

Part 18 - Sapling is in-process