#I've had this idea simmering for a while i need to get this out or I'll implode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

justlemmeadoreyou · 1 year ago

Note

Can I request for an blurb?? Never requested to anyone but I have this idea!!

So like H nd reader is in a relationship but H being famous nd all so because of that media nd his fans doesn't know he is in relationship nd to hide that thing he had to do PR relationship with someone else!! Nd he doesn't acknowledge that he had being ignoring reader nd spending more time with that pr girl!! So one day H came home nd reader was crying nd saying to H "do you love me?? Nd saying please don't leave me" nd H assure her she is it nd in few months he proposed the reader by saying how she is the only girl for him nd to never doubt his love for her!!

Ahh so sorry for such a lengthy request!! Nd it's okay if you don't wanna write!!:)

words: 4k (sorry!!!)

warnings: angst, lots of it. a fake pr, crying, some smut too. happy ending.

i changed this a bit, especially the ending. hope you don't hate this!

***

"I miss you," you whispered into the dark emptiness of your bedroom, clutching Harry's pillow tight. Another restless night alone while he was off being pictured with that pretty model for their fake relationship.

When would this torment end? Your heart ached constantly from the secrecy and lies shredding your real romance with Harry. All you wanted was to be open about your love...

It had started off so blissfully a year ago when you literally crashed into Harry outside of a coffee shop. You'd been rushing out the door, distracted and clumsy as always, when you rammed straight into a solid wall of human. Your face went bright red as you scrambled to pick up your scattered belongings.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! I'm such a disaster, I seriously need to watch where I'm going..." you babbled, finally looking up into the kindest pair of green eyes you'd ever seen.

The man was watching you with an amused tilt to his soft lips. Something about his tousled chestnut hair and casual style felt vaguely familiar, though you couldn't quite place him.

"No worries at all, it's my fault. Are you alright?" He asked in a deep, sumptuous voice that made you shiver.

As realization dawned, your mortified expression deepened. "Oh wow...you're...I just headbutted Harry Styles in the stomach."

He laughed easily, dimples flashing as he bent to help gather your dropped papers. "Very impressive ab attack there. Been taking self-defense classes?"

You flushed again at his playful teasing, finding yourself surprisingly flustered by this international superstar's carefree charm. Most celebrities seemed to carry an air of inflated ego, but Harry radiated a humble warmth.

"Do you, er, come to this cafe often?" He asked curiously as you both stood. "I don't think I've seen you around before."

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear shyly, you shook your head. "No, I don't. I was just stopping in for a coffee on my way to work."

"I see." His gem-green eyes slowly traced over your features, as if admiring a fine work of art. The intensity of his gaze sent a tendril of heated awareness washing through you.

Before you could think better of it, you blurted out the first thing on your mind. "Would you...maybe want to get coffee? With me, I mean? Right now?"

Harry's full lips curved in an amused smile. "I'd love that, actually."

You could scarcely believe this was reality as you led him back inside the cafe, trying not to visibly swoon at the casual brush of his fingertips against the small of your back. For the next hour you talked and laughed more freely than you had in ages, feeling utterly intoxicated by Harry's mere presence. Everything about him radiated authenticity and vulnerability, a creative wildness simmering beneath his polished exterior. You felt like you could be yourself with him instead of carefully cultivating persona upon persona as you did with most people.

By the time you forced yourself to reluctantly leave for work, exchanging numbers with Harry, you were positively giddy. Dancing through your day in a euphoric bubble, you hardly noticed the pitying looks from coworkers.

"You know he's just gonna ghost you, right?" Julie the receptionist said flatly when you told her about your morning coffee date. "Have you seen how many girls fall all over themselves trying to get Harry Styles' attention? You're out of your league, sweetie."

You frowned at her harsh dose of reality. As if you weren't well aware of your lack of impressiveness compared to supermodels and actresses in Harry's orbit. Still, you couldn't shake the magnetic connection you'd felt with him, the bone-deep certainty that he was someone truly special.

Much to everyone's shock, Harry didn't ghost you. In fact, a simple text from him that evening asking how your day was led to a rapid-fire exchange of messages stretching long into the night. Over the next few weeks, your life revolved around hushed phone calls, secret rendezvous at out-of-the-way cafes and restaurants, and marathon conversations revealing every layer of one another.

Harry was purely intoxicating - a whirlwind of brooding intensity balanced with vivid spontaneity and an excellent sense of humor. He seemed utterly fascinated by every small detail you revealed about your life, respectful in a way that made him feel like a wonderful dream. And you fell harder and harder for Harry with each passing day. Something about his quiet attentiveness and insatiable curiosity about you made you feel cherished in a way you'd never experienced before. Gone were the shallow, vapid interactions you were accustomed to in the dating world. With Harry, you could truly be yourself - he somehow coaxed out your authentic self that you typically kept heavily guarded.

At the same time, you were in absolute awe of the whirlwind of depth and experiences that defined Harry's life. His stories of touring the globe, writing deeply personal lyrics, collaborating with musical icons - they all painted a vivid portrait of an artistic soul soaring to brilliant creative heights. You drank in every glimpse into his inner world like a lifeline to another realm of existence.

Yet whenever you'd express feeling unworthy of his profound love and admiration, Harry was quick to sweetly rebuff you.

"Y/N, you dazzle me more than anything I've experienced in this mad career of mine," he insisted one evening over a cozy home-cooked meal you'd prepared. Catching your hand across the table, his green gaze pinned you in place. "Don't you see? Your warmth, your light, your way of finding detailed beauty in such seemingly ordinary moments - that's what enchants me. You make me want to shed all the superficial trappings of fame and just...be."

You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper, tumbling into an intimacy more profound than you'd ever imagined. If Harry hadn't told you himself that he'd only had a few relatively tame celebrity girlfriends in the past, you'd never have believed his immense experience from the way he worshiped you.

"So responsive, so gorgeous," he rasped against your swollen lips, calloused fingers stroking delirious patterns over your sensitized skin. "God, I could spend eternity between your legs”

Those stolen passionate encounters, tangled up and gasping one another's names with wild abandon, only added to your lovestruck infatuation. You felt deeply seen and cherished on a soul level, like you were both puzzle pieces finally slotting seamlessly together.

In the dreamy, lust-addled haze of new love, you almost didn't notice the growing tension in Harry's manner as typical relationship pressures began encroaching. Paparazzi grew increasingly aggressive in tracking his day-to-day movements whenever out in public. Well-meaning friends expressed concerns about the obvious strain he was under from lack of a romantic life in the public eye. And perhaps most troubling, his management team forcefully "suggested" it was time for him to embark on a high-profile PR romance to capitalize on album promotion and touring.

Harry had looked utterly fed up that evening when he broke the news, pacing in your living room.

You watched him apprehensively. "They want you to do...what? You mean...go along with a staged relationship? Like have a beard or something?"

"No! Absolutely not, I won't do it. I won't treat you like some secret, and I refuse to fake anything in my private life for publicity."

"Harry..." you tried to soothe him, rising to your feet and rubbing his tense shoulders. "I understand the pressures you're under-"

"No, you don't!" He rounded on you with surprising intensity. "You don't get it, Y/N. You are the best, most precious thing in my world - my safe harbor from all the bullshit fake expectations. I won't sully what we have with PR lies. I just...won't."

His words were at once incredibly romantic and terribly naive. As much as you longed to stay cocooned in the warm, intimate bubble of your relationship, you knew the real world would inevitably intrude. Harry was a public figure on a massive scale, his romantic life constantly scrutinized. For the sake of his livelihood, he might not have any choice but to bend to the publicity machine's demands.

***

Those first seeds of conflict only blossomed further over the following weeks as the PR relationship issue remained unresolved. You did your best to stay supportive and understanding, but it was a challenge keeping your own hurt and insecurities at bay.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," Harry groused one evening over a tense dinner. "So what if they want me to go out a few times with some model or actress, let the paps get pictures? It doesn't mean anything to me."

You poked at your food sullenly. "It's not that simple though, is it? Couldn't something like that, even if fake, seriously complicate things for us?"

He reached across to squeeze your hand. "Baby, you know you're the only person who matters to me. A little PR sham doesn't change how utterly mad I am about you."

But it did change things, whether Harry wanted to admit it or not. The striking difference in how he treated you, his real partner behind closed doors, compared to how he'd have to pretend with someone else for public consumption - it stung deep.

One night shortly after, you were cuddled up watching a movie when Harry's phone started incessantly buzzing. Pulling it out with a furrow in his brow, he quickly scanned a series of messages and emailed photos. An unmistakable look of chagrin crossed his face.

"What is it?" You asked, unable to ignore the sinking feeling in your gut.

Harry sighed, shoulders slumping. "Looks like the publicity team is really pushing ahead. They've, uh, they've arranged for me to be caught having dinner with Kendall Jenner tomorrow night."

Your heart plummeted as an uneasy feeling settled over you. This was really happening - right before your eyes, your private intimacy was being infiltrated with PR lies.

"So you're...going to be going out with her? In public, on a fake date, while the whole world watches?" You tried and failed to keep the hurt out of your voice.

"Not a date!" Harry was quick to insist, shifting closer to pull you into his arms. "Y/N, you have to understand this doesn't mean anything. It's all just smoke and mirrors, love. You're my world, I promise."

You wanted so desperately to believe him. But the lingering ache still took root somewhere deep inside as you watched the paparazzi frenzy ignite over Harry's "outing" with Kendall. Photos of the two models laughing intimately over drinks and dinner plastered every gossip rag and website for weeks.

It soon became a narrative that followed Harry everywhere - probing reporters shouting questions about whether he and Kendall were officially an item now. Rabid fans prying him online, trying to get every new shred of detail on the new, perfect couple.

"Hey, come here," Harry murmured soothingly whenever he saw the sadness and uncertainty cloud your eyes. He'd pull you into his chest, peppering kisses over your face. "I'm yours, baby, only yours. None of that bloody circus matters to me, I hope you know that."

You wanted to have his quiet confidence, truly. The way Harry could compartmentalize the fake PR relationship and his very real feelings for you with such clear separation. But it didn't stop the anxiety slowly gnawing away at your trust and security.

Increasingly, special romantic gestures from Harry felt like overcompensation for all the public affection he was faking with Kendall. When he'd surprise you with extravagant getaways to exotic locales, you couldn't fully relax into the pampering without wondering how much of it was just hiding guilt. And his constant reaffirmations of his love and devotion started ringing hollow amidst the growing circus his life was becoming.

The worst of it came at one of his first concerts after the publicity whirlwind began. You'd been so looking forward to experiencing the screaming crowds in a whole new light as Harry's actual partner, not just a casual fan. But the huge video screens kept flashing candid photos and fake couple shots of Harry holding hands and hugging Kendall, selling their phony romance to the fans.

You couldn't hold back the tears slipping down your cheeks as Harry serenaded the arena full of thousands, having no choice but to play along with the charade on the world stage. He caught your eye for just a second during the encore, and his smile instantly morphed into a look of sheer sorrow and guilt, looking at your tear-ridden face. He knew you, even if he stood so much away from you. But there was nothing he could do then except push forward with the manufactured story.

That night after the concert, an emotional Harry fell into your arms the moment you were alone in his dressing room. He clung to you desperately, peppering apologies across your tear-stained and defeated face.

"God, Y/N, I'm so sorry," he rasped, emerald eyes awash with remorse and frustration. "Seeing you hurting like that because of this bloody sham...it killed me. You have to know how madly in love I am with only you."

You nodded, finding it hard to speak past the lump in your throat. Of course you knew, deep down, that Harry loved you wholly. His attentiveness, the intense spark of intimacy and passion between you, the emotional connection - it was all achingly real. This PR relationship was merely a toxic byproduct of his celebrity, something massively unfortunate but not defining your actual bond.

And yet...Harry couldn't deny the growing chaos enveloping his personal life. The fake romance was now Priority One to his team, staged and milked for every ounce of publicity. Constant video calls and strategy sessions mapped out each calculated move - where Harry and Kendall would stage a coffee run for the paps, when they should be papped holding hands emerging from a nightclub, how often they should update their couple-y Instagram shots together.

Harry grew increasingly sullen and withdrawn the more deeply engrossed he became in maintaining the facade. And you couldn't ignore the mounting jealousy and hurt rapidly corroding, chipping away your self-esteem and faith in the relationship.

***

"Maybe...maybe we should take a break," you finally broached one afternoon after an especially grueling set of publicity demands. Harry's head whipped up from where he was moodily going over plans for an upcoming awards show appearance.

"What? Why would you say that?" There was an edge of panic in his tone. He looked shocked, but you knew it was a long time coming.

You shrugged. "Harry, can you honestly tell me you don't resent me at all for the toll this whole – charade has taken? That some part of you doesn't wish you could just live your life freely without me holding you back from giving publicity stunts like this your full effort?"

He immediately rushed to gather you into his arms. "No! Never, Y/N. You're my world, my everything. Without you, all this would mean nothing!”

Burying your face into the strength of his shoulder, you wished you could cling to his words and find comfort there once more. But the turmoil swirling around you was rapidly becoming too overpowering.

"I'm just...I'm so tired of feeling like an afterthought, Harry. Of being the dirty little secret you have to hide away while flaunting someone else to the world. I can't keep living like this, sinking into doubt and jealousy constantly."

Harry's arms tightened around you convulsively. "Don't say that, my love. You could never be an afterthought to me. I need you here, by my side, to keep me grounded and remind me of what's truly real."

Though his words warmed your heart, you found yourself pulling back to gaze at him searchingly. "Then prove it. Enough with the grand romantic gestures, the desperate promises. I need you to actually fight for me, for us, instead of just going along with everything. Either that, or–” the lump in your throat deepend, “ –you can let me go”

Harry was taken aback by your words. But still, there was a part of him that didn;t fully understand what you were going through. "You know it's not that simple, Y/N. One wrong move that tanks this publicity team's plans and my entire career could crater."

"So what?" you challenged, tilting your chin defiantly. Harry wasn't the only one being forced to make impossible choices. "Is the career really more important than your actual life, your happiness in a real relationship? Because I love you with everything, but I can't keep sacrificing my sense of self-worth and spinning out into reckless jealousy every waking moment just so you can have the best of both worlds."

"I...you have to understand, none of this publicity shite actually matters to me. Not really. It's all a smokescreen that will fade away eventually. But you, us - this love is my truth, my be all and end all. Don't give up on me, baby. I'll fix this, I swear it."

You wanted so badly to believe the desperation in Harry's voice. But the ache of sadness and insecurity had burrowed too deeply. What once would have swept you up in romantic adulation now just hollowed you out further.

"I really hope you can, Harry," you rasped, pulling away with immense reluctance. "Because I can't keep holding my breath waiting for the other shoe to drop much longer. This half-life just isn't enough anymore.I can't, Harry.I can't keep living like this."

Harry looked hurt now. He knew it was only a while before it all came shattering down, but the thought of Y/N walking away felt like a shard of glass lodged in his heart.

"From this moment on, things change," he rasped. "No more bowing to bloody publicists and image managers. My truth, our bond, comes before anything else. You're about to become my permanent bloody shadow, love."

A smile curved your lips at his words. Reaching up to trace the sharp edge of his chiseled jaw, you felt a wave of relief and renewed hope. "Well, I do make a devilishly charming shadow, if I say so myself."

Harry's gaze drank you in like a man rewarded with an infinite oasis after years of directionless wandering. "That you do, baby. No more hiding that radiant light of yours, yeah? "

He sealed the vow with a kiss that seared straight through to your bones. You clung to him, every brush of his hands and velvet tongue rekindling the deepest intimacy between you two.

When you finally pulled apart, chasing oxygen, Harry made an immediate move to sweep you up into his arms like a blushing bride. "Come on, love. Let's go remind the world of who they're dealing with, shall we?"

You looped your arms around his neck with a giddy laugh as he strode through the penthouse with you cradled protectively to his chest. Despite his determination, his hold was soft, cherishing. Like you were something infinitely precious to be handled with utmost care, or you would break.

Without explanation, Harry marched you both out and down to where a sleek black car was out front, the doorman quickly ushering you inside the backseat. Once the privacy partition rolled up, Harry immediately turned to you.

"I mean it, every word," he stated plainly. "No more deceptions or hiding our connection. From here it's full transparency and only the truth."

you felt overcome by tenderness and awe. "So...does that mean an end to the fake relationship with Kendall then?"

"Among other things," Harry confirmed without hesitation. To your surprise, he reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone and thumbed it open to the camera app, situating you both in the frame. "We're going to document and share every moment of us, the real us. Let my supporters and fans see who truly holds my heart before all others."

You blinked in astonishment as he looped an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush as the camera captured. Was this really happening? After all your heartbreak and insecurity brought on by that disastrous PR relationship, was Harry truly throwing it all to the wind?

That was clearly his intention as he leaned in to nuzzle your cheek dotingly, snapping pic after sweet pic of shameless embraces and intimate caresses being exchanged between you. Each time the shutter clicked he murmured loving adorations, his focus immovable.

"Gorgeous girl...my forever woman...heart and soul of my entire world..."

You blinked back tears. When was the last time you'd felt this elevated by Harry's worshiping? Your shaky exhales intermingled hotly as he maneuvered you fully into his lap, slanting his mouth hungrily across yours.

"My everything," he growled against your lips before kissing you breathless.

"Harry..." you finally managed to gasp out as you pulled apart, "what are you doing? If you post those shots, then-"

"Then the whole world will know I'm mad for you, and only you," he said, with nothing but seriousness and devotion in his voice, "No more closeting my actual partner away like a mistress to be hidden from disapproving eyes. You're the only romantic relationship fully grounded in truth that the world needs to be focused on."

You shivered at the assurance in his tone. This was really it - the definitive line in the sand. And with Harry looking at you the way he was, you couldn't find it in yourself to argue or question further. You simply melted into his heat, losing yourself in the incredible feeling of being staked as his claim.

With a few taps, Harry posted the first of intimate photos and captions that set the internet instantly ablaze. Breathy confessions of forever love intermingled with searing makeout shots - it was a rush of letting go of months of pent-up passion and adoration for the world to finally bear witness.

All the while, Harry refused to tear his stare from worshiping every inch of your body. His broad palms trailing over the exposed curves of your hips, waist, the swell of your breasts - anchoring you fully into the present.

Your social media was immediately swamped by a plethora of comments, tags and speculation over the tsunami wave of intimate reveals. Harry's fanbase seemed to have divided between celebration and outrage over their beloved idol being so thoroughly claimed by an average nobody.

More jarring, however, was the media/PR teams' explosive reactions. Both your phones blew up with frantic calls and enraged messages demanding explanations and emergency meetings. As expected, the team working to orchestrate Harry's fake relationship with Kendall were melting down over the sheer negligence of you both, and damage control now being initiated.

For a long while, you both simply ignored it, too immersed in devouring the rebirth of your connection to spare any attention elsewhere. You reveled in being subjected to Harry's fervent, undivided worshipping as his fingertips and lips swept across every velvet hollow and slope. His sensual assault was purposefully overwhelming, etching his permanent claim over your quivering form.

"They'll keep the noise up for a while, try spreading all sorts of misinformation and manipulation to regain control of the narrative," Harry finally mumbled without breaking the rhythm of stripping you bare and lavishing undivided attention over each exposed new expanse of satin flesh.

You shivered beneath him, and he tilted your chin up with a knuckle to capture your gaze, "But none of that shite matters now, okay? All that matters is that I’m all yours now. Only yours.:

And you were never letting him go.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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acedocx · 3 months ago

Text

do something about it

•

c.b.g (oneshot)

word count: 2.35k

tags: choi beomgyu x reader, college au, enemies to people that make out in a classroom, academic rivals to lovers, can you tell i'm stressed about college, pretty suggestive but there's no actual full smut (its story required in fics like this tension is the point im not weird guys), brat!beomgyu, dom!reader, makeout sequence, dry humping/grinding/idk what to call this ive never done this before

warnings: smut kinda, swearing, degradation, reader goes off on gyu (i love gyu guys i feel like i make him annoying in my stuff but i love him so much i promise), kind of public place stuff (classroom and building are empty), shitty formatting bc the author still doesn't know how tumblr formatting works

📖 author's note: hi guys! been a while, college is crazy! obviously, i'm handling the stress well (lie) (haven't slept) (publishing this at five in the morning) which is very evident in this fic lol. i'm pretty nervous to post this, as it's much more risqué and suggestive than my last one—it does kind of border on smut. i've been on smth recently i don't know what's wrong with me. but it's almost certainly totally unrealistic, so sorry in advance lol. this was originally supposed to be a full fic, and i do have some ideas for it, so if yall want more (or a part two or smth) let me know! perhaps ill make it a full fic lol. enjoy!

it was on that crisp february afternoon, in the confines of the worn concrete walls of your anthropology class, that you genuinely (and ironically) began to reconsider your moral stance on murder.

you stifled a sigh of annoyance as you heard the screech of the chair in the row behind you as it ground against the linoleum floor. always first. he was always first. you really thought you had him this time, only two questions away from the final eightieth question.

you glanced up from your exam and immediately wished you hadn't. you felt rage begin to simmer in your stomach as you made eye contact with choi beomgyu, who smirked at you as he all but sauntered back to his desk to grab his things.

"prick," you hissed to yourself, hoping the sound of the closing door disguised your outburst.

choi beomgyu. you didn't believe in nemeses—you hadn't, until now, even really believed in academic rivals—but there was something about choi beomgyu that made you so angry it was difficult to breathe.

he was insufferably annoying—cracking jokes, sleeping in class, talking and laughing loudly as the professor explained concepts that would surely be on the test. but more than anything, it was that it didn't matter.

beomgyu had top marks, had never failed an exam, almost always the highest score in the class; you hated him for it. you were always the second highest, always just below him, if only by a half-point. it drove you insane, because you slaved over the assignments and spent hours studying—not a day went by where you didn't. you had basically no life outside of school.

and along comes choi beomgyu, who could come into class hungover and get a perfect score on an exam. just the thought of it made you sick.

despite just having an exam, you found yourself in the library again that afternoon slaving over study materials. you had been staring at your screen for what felt like hours, back and shoulders aching from your poor posture. your head swam with information—definitions, dates, people, everything blended together into one hazy blur. you let out a sigh of exasperation, letting your head rest on the table, eyes closed. i bet beomgyu isn't even studying, you thought with a flare of annoyance. he probably won't. he's probably out partying, having fun, enjoying college—

"d'you expect to find the information in the wood grain, or what?"

your head shot up at the teasing voice from in front of you. had you summoned him? was this a divine joke—god's cruel punishment upon you when you needed it the least? you sighed, turning your eyes back to your computer.

"just resting my eyes. i've been at this for a while," you answered curtly. something you probably wouldn't understand, you added to yourself.

"the anthropology stuff? really?" he scoffed. you clenched your teeth. don't let him get under your skin. "we just had an exam. which, how'd you do on that, by the way? i think i did pretty well—98%, could've done better."

"fine," you snapped, probably too quickly to be believable. you honestly hadn't looked at your grade yet, but you knew it wasn't that. you prayed you could change the subject quick enough before beomgyu bragged about his any more. "what are you doing in here anyway? since obviously, you don't need to study," you said, fighting to keep the venom from your voice.

"ouch," beomgyu laughed, pushing his long brown hair out of his face and moving closer, leaning against the table. "so what, i'm not allowed in here if i'm not boring myself to death?"

"what do you want?"

"nothing! just coming to talk to my classmate," he said innocently. he began to turn to walk away before turning back to look at you. something in his gaze lit a spark of anger in your chest that you fought to swallow. "sorry you have to work yourself to death to keep up."

you didn't know if it was the exhaustion or the two months of pent-up frustration that caused you to snap, but that did it. you pushed yourself up from the desk so forcefully, the chair nearly fell behind you. beomgyu turned back to you with a start. that familiar tightness in your chest took hold, and forgetting about your computer and bag, you grabbed beomgyu by the wrist and began to drag him out the door and down the hall.

it was long past the last class of the day leaving, and golden hour beams filtered lazily in through the windows—a stark contrast to the tempest that you could feel raging through your veins. you dragged a protesting beomgyu into the first empty classroom you saw, slamming the door behind you and whirling to face him.

"okay, we're doing this now, what the fuck is your problem?!" you all but spit at him, trying with everything in you to not raise your voice—it made sense to you now; he wanted a rise out of you, and you couldn't bear to give him the satisfaction of knowing it was working.

"what are you talking about?" beomgyu said with feigned innocence, smirk still tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"do not play stupid with me. you've proven too many times that you think you're smarter than me to play stupid." your hands shook at your sides with the monumental effort of not grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, and you squeezed your eyes shut to block out the smug expression that was undoubtedly still plastered on his face.

"have you ever considered that maybe i am smarter than you? did that cross your mind? wow, your ego must be fuckin' crazy if you really believe no one at this university could possibly be smarter than you," beomgyu scoffed. your mouth hung open in shock. ego? he was talking to you about ego?

"do you know how hard i had to work to get here? do you know how many hours, how many nights i slave over materials to have as high of a grade as i do? do you know how exhausted i am? do you?! no! you don't! because you don't have to work!" you could feel your throat growing tight as you fought the urge to tear up from anger. you sucked in a deep, shaky breath, lowering your voice to a near-whisper, the vitriol in it acidic enough to burn.

"do you know that i can't stand you? every time i see you, i feel my, my blood boil. everything goes to static—you make me so angry that my head spins, you infuriate me to the point of—of," you squeezed your eyes shut once more. "of total incoherence. you make me incompetent, and i hate you."

the words hung in the air, electrifying the atmosphere in the room. the tension was thick enough to taste—you could feel it pulled tight like a cord between the two of you, waiting to snap. you slowly opened your eyes again, defiantly meeting beomgyu's gaze.

the smirk was gone, replaced by surprise and—you noted with a surge of pride—slight outrage. but behind his eyes, there was something else. a challenge—like he was waiting for you to yell at him again. it was him who broke the silence finally.

"yeah? i make you that mad?" he leaned in closer, the spark of defiance behind his eyes brighter now—different in some way. "do something about it."

you were warm, hot, unbelievably hot, as you felt the blood rush to your face, pounding in your ears, drowning out all logic or reasoning. everything outside had disappeared—your vision tunneled on beomgyu. it felt like flames—tearing through your body, screaming to get out in some way. you wanted to hit him. you could—you could hit him, punch him, kick him, slap him, something—anything.

your lips slammed against his with enough force to fully knock him back into the desk behind him, nearly knocking the both of you over in the process. something in the both of you snapped, and all the fight and indignation in beomgyu seemed to have fled him.

one of your hands found his wrists, pinning them behind him to the wooden tabletop below. the other found his long brown hair, snaking up into it, grip tightening as you pulled. you smirked into the kiss at the whine beomgyu let out, his legs seeming to go weak beneath him.

you wanted to devour him—you bit and sucked at his lips, surely leaving them swollen and bruised, tongue exploring every inch it could of his mouth—the mouth that had caused you so much chagrin for the last two months, finally silenced at your discretion. this was justice, vindication, you thought to yourself. putting him in his place.

it was only when you became truly dizzy from a lack of oxygen you pulled away—more accurately, pulled beomgyu away, yanking his head back by his hair, to which he let out another pathetic noise. as you both gasped for air, your gaze settled upon him again, and you noted with disdain how beautiful he was like this.

his eyes were half-lidded, teary, the pupils blown out with lust. his cheeks and the tips of his ears flushed a bright pink, a sheen coating his whole face. as you suspected, his lips were swollen, red, and trembling. this close, you could clearly see that the spark in his eyes that you had seen as challenge before was something else entirely—it was desperation.

everything began to click into place. he wanted your attention. that is why he acted out that way in the library. your mouth twisted into a smirk reminiscent of the expression beomgyu wore minutes ago. pride surged through you where there should have been annoyance—he enjoyed this. he wanted this, wanted you to put him in his place.

beomgyu seemed to come back to himself for a moment, the infuriating arrogance that you had come to associate with him adorning his features once more. he gave you a smug look again, shakier this time—he knew he had been caught.

"l-look at you, kissing me like you're—you're trying to eat me or s-something—thought you said you...couldn't stand me."

you scoffed at him. "i can't," you hissed. "so sit. get on the desk."

beomgyu pushed himself back and up until he was sitting on the desk, legs to either side of you. you pressed your lips to his neck in slow, lazy kisses that trailed up to his jaw. beomgyu tilted his head back, eyebrows knitted, bruised lips parted in a shaky sigh, trying and failing to stay quiet as your teeth found purchase below his jawline.

once you were satisfied with the bruise, you leaned in close, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"do you get off on this?"

the shiver that went through his body was confirmation enough, and it nearly made you laugh. you were giddy, power-drunk—you would later blame the power trip and the blinding rage for just how much you enjoyed seeing beomgyu unravel so beautifully beneath you. it was almost enough to convince you that you weren't enraptured by him, almost ethereal in the golden light that bathed the empty classroom.

"that's humiliating. are you excited by this? by me yelling at you, degrading you," you made another mark near his collarbone, "being rough with you?"

"yes, god—i'm, i—please, please—" beomgyu was incoherent, speaking in fragments, newly freed hands grasping at your shirt, your arms, anything to pull you back into him.

you pouted at him in mocking pity, pulling his hands from your shirt, pinning them back firmly on the desk.

"poor thing, can't even speak. thought you were smarter than me," you said in a sickly sweet voice. "please, what?"

"please, please, anything—kiss me, touch me, something—" you could see tears in his eyes that threatened to fall, and you looked down at the mess you had made of his outfit. the collar of his white tee had been stretched to reveal his collarbones, necklaces askew in every direction. the hem of his shirt had ridden way up where your hand had found its way under it, revealing some of his stomach as it rose and fell with his short, shallow breaths—and the obvious tent in his black jeans.

it was impossible trying to lie to yourself—you wanted this just as much as he did. but you couldn't lose now, not when you've finally bested him for once. you swallowed, hoping he didn't see the way you faltered as you stared. a smirk found your features again, and you traced the waistband of his jeans with the tips of your fingers, pressing more lazy kisses into his jaw.

you pressed your body flush against his chest, your thigh coming to rest between his legs. beomgyu shivered again, chasing the friction as he began to grind against your leg. it was unholy, the sounds he made—even worse the almost undeniable urge to let him, to fuck him there in that classroom.

you tugged him back from you by his hair once more, pulling yourself away from him entirely as he whined in protest, standing back to observe your handiwork a second time.

beomgyu looked an absolute mess. hair wild, eyes puffy, face flushed almost burgundy and streaked with tears—fucked out, and you had barely even touched him. entirely pathetic, entirely at your mercy. you couldn't have been more satisfied.

"we're in a classroom, y'know," you taunted. "you didn't really expect to do it here, right? freak," you added venomously. beomgyu couldn't even respond, only shaking his head dazedly.

you turned towards the door, smoothing your shirt and hair nonchalantly.

"you...y-you're such a...you are evil, you can't..." you heard beomgyu stammer out from behind you. you turned towards him with a perfect mimickry of his smug smirk from earlier.

"do something about it."

#fanfic #txt #tomorrow by together fanfic #choi beomgyu #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #txt fic #kind of smut #kpop fanfic #kpop #tomorrow x together #choi soobin #hueningkai #choi yeonjun #kang taehyun #i'm sorry #this is unholy

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soup-du-silence · 6 months ago

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I've been meaning to do a rec list for a while as part of an initiative to be more proactive about the kind of slow depreciation of fic culture in fandom, as well as being better about leaving comments and second kudos, so here are a few of the TWST fics I've enjoyed this past year

Overthrown | T | JamiKali | 1.5k words (complete)

By @thatgirlonstage

Silk City has become discontent with the Asims. Despite everything, Jamil has never wanted Kalim dead.

This is my favorite JmKl fic. Yeah its 1.5k words. Yeah it’s barely shippy. But it’s such a perfect, condensed encapsulation of who they are, the elevator pitch for the ship, imo. It boils it all down to its essence: Kalim’s unwavering optimism, Jamil’s betrayal, their enduring loyalty.

Jamil’s Expressions, As he Dances | T | JamiKali | 1k words (complete)

By thatsrightdollface

“Kalim watches recordings of the gift performance.”

Short, soft and very sweet. Kalim watches recordings of the GloMas performance to see Jamil, has Kalim-typical thoughts about him.

Borrowed Time | E | JamiKali | 44k words (complete)

By Lalaen

Crowley announces a fun new event he’s already put into motion - Parents’ Tour! Jamil needs to host the Al-Asim at Scarabia dorm, and hide what happened during his overblot, and pretend he isn’t sleeping with Kalim. Not to mention keeping Kalim - no, their entire dorm from letting anything slip.

While I don’t agree with his characterisation of the Asim family, I’m in this one for how horrible and ugly Jamil is. He’s just simmering with disgust and loathing and its very delicious imo. This one played a big part in my own “Oh Kalim likes the brainwashing, obviously” headcanons. Also Rook and Vil are there helping Jamil find his footing! We love the Scarabia/Pomefiore friendship in this house.

I Need You To Be Okay | M | JamiKali | 6k words (complete)

By Lalaen

It’s just Jamil’s luck that the one time someone tries to poison Kalim at school, he ends up getting hit with the full dose. Stabilizing Kalim is something Jamil is used to. Unfortunately, Kalim isn’t good enough at alchemy - or controlling his own trauma response - to return the favour.

Sickfic basically, featuring Jamil being stubborn, Kalim regretting, and RookVil assisting.

Honestly I think all of Lalaen’s stuff is worth checking out so be sure to click through to his profile.

Scales of Contrition | T | JamiKali, LeoKali | 52K words (ongoing)

By Pareidolia

“Jamil returns to the Scalding Sands after a decade. Time doesn't stand still.”

This fic has everything I would normally filter out of my searches: Jamil or Kalim shipped with literally anyone else, those ships with biological babies…but it works and it’s good. Lots of really good world building, political stuff, angst and pining and drama. Missed opportunities and the consequences thereof. The Asim legacy and what it means for Kalim now that he’s a father. Jamil trying to figure out where he belongs. Leona being Leona. (there’s also a second ongoing fic that documents Leona’s POV, be sure to check it out)

The Hungry Heart, The Roving Eye | T | LeoRuggie | 5k words (complete)

By @thatgirlonstage

Five things Ruggie stole from Leona and one thing he gave back.

What it says on the tin! I feel like there’s not a ton of LeoRuggie fic that’s like……sweet? Because Leona is the way he is. I imagine he makes it difficult. But this one is really cute and I like it a lot.

How to Ruin Yourself | T | LeoRuggie | 190K words (ongoing–abandoned?)

By apple_fairy

Your name is Ruggie Bucchi. You are a no-good, lowdown hyena from the slums of the Sunset Savannah. You are quick-witted, prideful, a terror, and a young boy just trying to survive the world. You bend your morals where you see fit, break the world to ensure your survival. You do not suffer from guilt, but only the idea that the world owes you overdue payment, and that you had a right to live just as anyone else does. You laugh where you can. You don't show anyone your tears. His name is Leona Kingscholar. In the beginning all he had been was a prince from the royal family, a name whispered in the markets, a faceless thing for you to hate during your hungry nights. It all begins when you finally meet him at Night Raven College. This is how you ruin yourself.

I grabbed this one off of Hilling’s rec-list and jumped into it without looking at the stats and the first chapter knocked me on my ass and then I quickly realized it was 190K words multichap and hadn’t been updated in 2.5 years, so. Oops. I looooove the prose, great world building and Ruggie characterization, and its second-person(!!!!) and I think it's got a lot of really really great stuff in it! (also it 100% needs an M rating) But I ran out of steam on it somewhere around chapter 16 and I think there are few ways to tackle this fic:

Read chapter one for how they meet, how they connect, as a sort of character study, and stop

2. Read a few more chapters to see how they become a couple, and stop.

3. Read up through Leona’s overblot, see how that affects their relationship, and stop.

4. Continue reading as it was meant to be read, up through the current updates. (I haven’t done this. I lost interest. I very much like the concept that they have a brief, intense fling, become obsessed with power, and it all collapses. It could have ended there and been great, imo, but it’s clear the author wanted to follow them through the rest of the game)

Night Sculptor | E | LeoRuggie | 7k words (complete)

By shoeburn

This room, door locked, lights dim, belongs to the two of them alone. This is where Ruggie belongs. He wants Leona to belong here too.

Doomed LeoRuggie smut. Just fucking SAD, man. But good.

Unexpected Proximity! | T | FloRid | 15K words (complete)

By elo_quentalias

On an otherwise routine trip through the Hall of Mirrors, an unseen student pushes Riddle into a coffin — along with Floyd Leech. Riddle is about to discover just how far his work-in-progress patience can possibly take him.

“Two characters trapped in a tight space.” This is one of those ships that when they interact in canon Im like “hell yeah i get it” but they dont take up too much space in my mind otherwise and I havent found much good fic that helps solidify it as something possible, they always kind of show up in the background of other fics as a love/hate jokey thing. This is a good one though, Riddle has to test his patience and so does Floyd, and it forces them to meet in the middle.

Such A Funny Way to Fall | E | TreyCater | 6k words (complete)

By undeuxtreycater

Trey walks in on Cater having sex. Cater makes sure he does it again.

I do not give two farts about this ship but this is good smut to me. And everything else they’ve written is also good smut about ships I don’t care about. And it’s all they have. And I’m like 95% sure this is a side account just for someone’s TWST porn and Im really fucking mad about that because they have NO bookmarks and an empty bio and how am I supposed to see what else they’ve written?? Why would you do this to your readers? It’s just mean. Anyway Cater’s a whore check it out.

Lavendar haze | T | LilIdia | 3k words (complete)

By la_nuit_porte_couseil

“How is it possible that you have been alive for untold decades yet you’ve never been high?” aka Idia encourages Lilia to try smoking weed. It gets gay.

I don't think the characterization on this one really hits (in op’s defense it's two years old and we had significantly less Lilia then) BUT it's like a really elaborate shit-post with some turns of phrase that live rent free in my brain, worth reading for that alone. I might take “I finished all my panic attacks” with me to my grave.

#twisted wonderland #fic rec #jamikali #leoruggie #twst fic

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southtopaz · 7 months ago

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PSYCHO KILLER - SCREAM

Summary: in which Iris Morris has to navigate her personal relationships while surviving a psycho.

Warnings: Fem!reader, angst, mention of blood, violence, swearing, mention of death, Tara Carpenter x Fem reader, multiple parts.

Word count: +6k

A/n: this part will follow the events of Scream 6 but it will take place two years later from Scream 5. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical mistake.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

That night, the air in Sam, Tara, and Iris's apartment was thick with tension as they settled in together. They had all agreed to stay in their apartment and spend the night together under the guise of safety in numbers, but Iris couldn't shake the feeling that it was also a way to keep tabs on one another. Trust felt fragile, and she found herself scanning the room for suspects.

In the kitchen, the atmosphere shifted to a quieter, more intimate space. Iris and Tara stood side by side, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, their movements synchronized. The silence between them was comfortable yet charged.

"Wanna try this?" Iris asked playfully, dipping a spoon into the simmering sauce and holding it out towards Tara. Their eyes locked as Tara leaned in, accepting the offering. The moment lingered, until Tara finally looked away, her cheeks flushed.

"It's good," Tara said softly. Iris smiled, that small, genuine smile that made Tara's stomach flutter.

"I think you should get out of the city," Tara suggested, her brow furrowing in concern.

"Already tired of me?" Iris teased, but her heart sank at the thought.

"I would never get tired of you," Tara muttered. "It's just... after everything that happened last time, I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to go."

Iris paused, the weight of Tara's words settling in. "Look, Tara, do you want me gone?"

The question hung in the air like a challenge, and Tara's eyes widened. "Iris..."

"Do you want me to stay away from you?" Iris stepped closer, invading the space between them.

"No, of course not! But I just want you safe," Tara replied, her voice trembling slightly.

"Well, I want you safe too and I want to be right beside you."

Tara's expression shifted, a mix of fear and urgency. "There's someone trying to kill us,"

"I don't care," Iris shook her head. "You have to be insane if you think anything could pull me away from you."

"You can't say things like that,"

"Why not?"

Tara took a step back, breaking the charged space between them. "You know why," she said, her voice trembling as she turned to face the countertop, her back to Iris.

"What...?"" Iris pressed, feeling the ache of uncertainty.

"Would you two just make out already!" Mindy shouted, exasperation evident in her voice.

"The fuck, Mindy?" Iris replied, her cheeks flushing as she glanced at Tara, who looked equally flustered.

Mindy strode into the kitchen, her energy filling the space. "Seriously, just get over it!" Tara, trying to diffuse the tension, said, "I have to talk to Sam. Be right back," before she patted Iris's arm affectionately. Iris watched Tara leave, a longing ache settling in her chest.

"What was that all about?" Mindy pressed, her eyes narrowing on Iris.

"What?" Iris asked, trying to focus on pouring the sauce into the pan, as if that could distract her from the heat in her cheeks.

"You know, that whole Romeo and Juliet shit I just witnessed," Mindy raised an eyebrow.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Iris insisted, her voice slightly higher than usual.

Mindy groaned, frustration bubbling to the surface. After ensuring they were alone, she reached over and turned off the stove, prompting Iris to protest.

"Hey! I was cooking!"

"Don't care. We need an intervention here. You're really pissing me off," Mindy shot back, her voice firm.

"I didn't do anything! What the—" Iris began, but Mindy cut her off.

"Iris, I've been holding back on this because I hoped you'd figure it out yourself, but since apparently you have absolutely no brain cells in that pretty head of yours, it's time someone tells you the truth."

"Tell me what?"

"You like her. You like Tara," Mindy stated bluntly.

"What? No, I don't!" Iris stammered, embarrassment washing over her.

"For the past two years, I've seen you look at her like she's everything you've ever wanted," Mindy continued, her tone shifting to one of sincerity. "You literally have heart eyes when you talk to her."

"I don't like her like that! Absolutely not! What the hell?"

Mindy rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with her friend's denial. "You hate dancing, yet you danced with her the other day. You hate horror movies, but you watch one with her every Friday night just because it's Tara's favorite thing. You hold her hand whenever you get the chance, and you remember every little detail about her. You might think nobody notices, but I see how you can't tear your gaze away from her when she isn't looking."

Mindy stepped closer, her grip firm on Iris's shoulders as if to ground her in reality. "She's the only one who brings a genuine smile to your face. You get all giddy and blushy when she pays attention to you, and let's not even talk about the jealousy when someone else tries to get close to her."

"So yeah, you don't just like her; you're in love with her," Mindy concluded, her voice softening.

"What?! I'm not! I..." Iris protested, her heart racing at the accusation.

"And honestly, it's getting embarrassing at this point. We're all waiting for one of you to make a move, but you're both acting like complete idiots" Mindy added, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Wait, both of us?" Iris asked, realization dawning on her.

"Iris, you're so oblivious. That poor girl could tell you she loves you and wants to marry you, and you'd still think she means it platonically," Mindy said, shaking her head in disbelief at her friend's stupidity "Tara has literally been waiting for you to do something for years. The fact that she's still waiting just shows how much she wants you,".

"You think she likes me? There's no way," Iris said, her disbelief palpable.

"Dude, why do you think I gave you the idea to write that letter to express your feelings?" Mindy asked, her tone serious. "Because I knew it was the only way you'd actually make a move, and she was obviously going to say yes, I wasn't going to set you up for failure"

"You don't know that," Iris replied, her voice tinged with doubt.

"Then why do you think Amber took that letter away and sent that text to separate you two? She knew that if Tara had gotten that letter, you would've never dated her. It was the only way she had to make you notice her".

"And look I'm not saying you didn't love Amber because unfortunately I know you did but you never unfell for Tara and now you finally have a chance to do something". Mindy urged, her expression softening. "I know a part of you is still afraid, but this is Tara we're talking about. The girl you spent most of your childhood being in love with, and she is also the one that spent all of that time loving you back. So could you please, for the love of God, do something about it? I just want you to be happy, and, okay, I may also want to win the bet Sam and I have going on."

"You guys have a fucking bet?" Iris asked, eyes wide with surprise.

"Can't tell you," Mindy replied, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

"You just did," Iris shot back, crossing her arms.

"Did I?"

"I can't believe you guys have a bet, people are dying out here," Iris said, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

"Still not an excuse for being a pussy" Mindy countered, giving Iris a light shove. "Make me proud, bestie. She's on the terrace."

With each step toward the terrace, Iris's heart raced. The conversation with Mindy echoed in her mind, pushing her forward. Iris felt a whirlwind of emotions stirring inside her, a mix of nervousness and disbelief that left her momentarily breathless. She had long acknowledged her feelings for Tara, yet the thought that Tara might share those feelings was something she never dared to entertain, but now that very possibility was all she could think about.

"Hey," she finally managed to say, her voice almost a whisper.

Tara jumped, placing a hand over her chest, her eyes wide with surprise. "Jesus, you scared me!"

Iris laughed softly. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to." She took a step closer, her pulse quickening with each moment spent in Tara's presence. "I came to let you know that food will be ready in a little bit."

Tara smiled, a hint of curiosity in her gaze. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, why?" Iris tried to sound casual, but her mouth betrayed her.

"You just look a little... weird, that's all."

"You calling me ugly?" Iris teased, the playful banter a welcome distraction.

"Never! You could never be ugly, believe me," Tara replied, patting Iris's arm affectionately. Before Iris could think better of it; she caught Tara's hand in hers, intertwining their fingers with a tenderness that sent a jolt of warmth through her.

"Your fingers are cold," Iris noted, suddenly aware of a slight tremor running through Tara's form. "Are you cold?"

"Mm, yeah," Tara whispered, her cheeks flushed with something more than just the chill in the air.

Without thinking, Iris pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around her in a warm embrace. "Is this okay?" she asked softly.

"Definitely," Tara replied, her voice muffled against Iris's shoulder. They held each other for what felt like an eternity, and Iris couldn't resist the urge to gaze at Tara. She ran her fingers through Tara's hair, tracing the gentle arch of her cheekbones, her eyes staring at the constellation of freckles that danced across her nose.

"Is there something on my face?" Tara asked suddenly, her voice teasing yet curious.

"No, why?" Iris replied, caught off guard.

"I can see you looking at me," a nervous smile blooming on her lips.

"Sorry," Iris whispered, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks. She tried to pull away, but Tara tightened her grip, refusing to let her go.

"Don't be sorry. Just... stay."

"Maybe I just like looking at you," Iris admitted, the words spilling out before she could think better of it.

Tara inhaled sharply, her expression shifting as if she were contemplating something significant. Then, she gently cupped Iris's face, drawing her attention back to her. "You like looking at me?"

"Yeah," Iris said, her heart racing. "I can't help it. You're just so..." She wrapped her arms around Tara's waist, pulling her even closer.

"So?" Tara prompted, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Beautiful." A deep blush spread across Tara's cheeks, illuminating her features in the middle of the night. Iris was mesmerized, her gaze locked onto Tara's captivating eyes, losing herself in their depths.

"Honestly? I think it's time I admitted I like looking at you too," Tara confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah?" Iris breathed, a smile forming on her lips.

"I've liked looking at you ever since we were six, so... yeah." The space between them shrank to nothing; they could hear each other's breaths, feel the warmth radiating from their bodies. Iris was acutely aware of how fast her heart was pounding, wondering if maybe Tara could hear it too.

"Tara, I..."

But before Iris could finish her thought, a loud voice broke the moment. "HEY YOU TWO, FOOD IS READY!" Chad's call echoed up the stairs, shattering the delicate bubble they had created.

"You've got to be kidding me," Tara sighed, resting her forehead against Iris's, her breath mingling with Iris's in a way that felt almost sacred. Iris couldn't help but chuckle softly, feeling both amused and a little deflated.

"Come on, I'm hungry!" Tara finally disentangled herself from Iris but not before leaning in to plant a quick, lingering kiss on Iris's cheek. The gesture sent a jolt of warmth through the girl, leaving her momentarily frozen in place, her heart fluttering wildly.

"Let's go," Tara said, reaching for Iris's hand, their fingers still intertwined as they made their way downstairs.

In the kitchen, the atmosphere buzzed with the chatter of their friends, Mindy, Chad, and Sam all standing around the table. The three of them noticed their hands together but chose to let it slide without comment, a knowing smile exchanged among them. Iris stood beside Mindy leaning against the countertop, while Tara settled in beside her sister, but not before punching Chad in the arm as she passed.

"Hey, the fuck?" Chad exclaimed, feigning hurt, but Tara just rolled her eyes and ignored him.

"The others?" Iris asked, looking around.

"Quinn's in her room with some boy, and Anika's watching TV," Mindy replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"I already left some blankets on the sofa for

you all," Sam said, her voice filled with exhaustion as she reached for a bottle of wine. The strain of the last few days hung heavily on her shoulders, evident in the way her brow furrowed and her movements felt a bit slower.

"We don't have to stay here, you know," Mindy said, trying to keep the mood light, though a hint of worry crept into her voice.

"Well, too bad. I insist. Safety in numbers" Sam replied, her tone leaving little room for argument.

"This'll be so fun!" Chad interjected, a grin spreading across his face. "A little slumber party with the core five!"

"Core five?" Sam asked, her confusion evident as she raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just give us a nickname?" Tara teased, leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed, clearly amused.

"I sure did!" Chad exclaimed, his chest puffed out with pride. "I mean, we've been through a lot together. It's a pretty cool nickname!"

"That's debatable," Sam shot back, a smirk forming as she rolled her eyes.

"Extremely debatable" Tara chimed in.

"C'mon, you bunch of haters! The nickname fucking rocks". Iris laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter. "Give me five, bro". Chad happily did so.

"You can't just give yourself a nickname, dingus," Mindy protested, shaking her head but unable to hide her smile.

"Of course I can, dingus, because I just did!" Chad insisted, raising his hand expectantly, waiting for everyone to join in. "Core five, up top!"

"Nah," Mindy replied, playfully waving her hand away.

"Get that away from me," Tara said with mock disdain, shaking her head as if Chad had offered her something distasteful.

"Iris, Sam, don't fail me now!" Chad pleaded, eyes wide with faux desperation.

"Come on, Sam, look at his face! How can you say no?" Iris pinched Chad's cheeks, trying to emphasize his supposed cuteness.

"I would like a little more respect and support from my fellow members of the Core Five," Chad huffed dramatically, crossing his arms while pretending to sulk.

Just then, they heard Anika's voice echoing from the hallway. "Guys, what the hell?" she called out, her tone sharp and urgent. The group exchanged quick, concerned glances and without a second thought, they all turned and rushed toward the living room.

"We're hearing from sources inside the homicide division that the prime suspect is none other than Samantha Carpenter, one of the survivors of the Woodsboro killing in 2022, seen here attacking a woman on the street last night."

Sam was quick to mute the television, the noise suddenly feeling overwhelming, and rushed out of the living room, seeking refuge in the kitchen. The other four exchanged worried glances before following her, signaling to Anika to stay put. They couldn't believe that some people would even think Sam was capable of doing something so terrible. The world could be cruel, and right now, Sam was suffering under its weight.

"I know it's tough, but don't listen to those people, Sam. They know nothing". Iris said as she settled down next to her, concern etched on her face. Tara nodded in agreement, moving closer to offer support.

"I know you're not a fan of how I've been handling things, and I get that I've given you a hard time," Tara said, taking Sam's hand in hers. "But I can say that none of us can relate to what you are experiencing." Sam turned to her sister, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"And I'm really sorry that you have to do that alone," Tara continued softly.

"It's not your fault," Sam replied, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I know I shouldn't care about what people think, but it just sucks being this hated." Her voice cracked slightly, revealing the vulnerability she was trying to hide.

Iris quickly handed her a napkin to wipe her tears, and Sam offered a grateful smile. "We will always be here for you, Sam," Iris reassured her, her tone warm and steady.

Just then, Chad and Mindy entered the room, their presence a welcome distraction. "Hey, just a reminder," Chad said, his voice firm yet comforting. "Not a single person in this room hates you, okay? We've all been through some fucked up stuff, and we're coping with it differently. But we moved here together for one very specific reason."

"We are a team," he finished, his words hanging in the air like a promise.

"Gosh, since when are you so wise?" Iris laughed through her tears, the tension in the room easing as everyone shared a soft chuckle.

Sam felt warmth spread through her as she looked at her friends, grateful for their unwavering support. "You guys really mean a lot to me,".

"We are the core five," Mindy declared dramatically, as if it were a big revelation.

"Thank you very much," Chad responded, grinning widely.

"I hate myself," Mindy joked, and without missing a beat, she high-fived Chad.

"Say it, guys, c'mon!" Iris urged, her finger pointing between Sam and Tara with an infectious enthusiasm.

"I mean, yes, we are a team, but..." Tara began, laughter bubbling up as they all joined in, the heaviness of the moment lifting, if only for a little while.

"I've been sleeping with cute boy from across the hall," Sam announced, her cheeks flushing a light pink.

"Boom!" Mindy shouted, her excitement reverberating through the small apartment.

"I fucking knew it!" Tara exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

"Finally, a hot guy, Sam! I'm so proud of you!" Iris chimed in, her voice filled with amusement but happiness for her friend.

"I mean, I totally knew it from the day you had that hickey!" Mindy joked, her laughter contagious and filling the room. The others burst into giggles, recalling the embarrassing moment.

Chad, sitting off to the side with a playful grin, leaned forward and said, "Does somebody else want to confess something?" He cast a teasing glance at Tara, clearly remembering the hand holding his two friends did.

"Don't look at me, you weirdo! I have nothing to say," Tara replied, feigning innocence while crossing her arms defiantly.

"Nothing?" Mindy asked in despair as she stared pointedly at Iris. "Jesus, this will never end!"

Tara quickly tried to redirect the conversation. "I feel like we should high-five or something,"

"Hell yeah, Core Five motherfuckers". Iris said enthusiastically, raising her hand in the air. The others quickly followed suit, each of them joining in for the playful moment.

Just then, Sam's phone began to ring loudly, cutting through their laughter. Tara's eyes lit up as she recognized the caller ID. "Look who it is!" she exclaimed, snatching the phone away and displaying it to everyone.

With a mischievous smile, she passed the phone to Mindy. They all erupted into laughter, pretending to answer it with exaggerated voices, playfully interrogating Danny about his intentions. Sam, still blushing, finally managed to get a word in, saying she would call him back later.

The mood took a sudden turn when strange noises started coming from upstairs. It was impossible to confuse the unmistakable sounds of moans.

"Quinn and her gentleman caller are back at it again," Tara remarked, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"I swear to God, it's like she doesn't know how to be quiet!" Iris added, shaking her head with an amused grin.

Before they could continue their

conversation, a sudden chorus of phone notifications broke the moment, startling them all into silence. Iris felt her heart race as she glanced at the screen. A chilling image flickered before her eyes: Ghostface, looming menacingly over Quinn, a knife poised dangerously close to her throat. Time seemed to freeze as the reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread filled the room.

"What the hell?" Iris whispered in horror. Quinn's desperate shout for help echoed in their house, and instinct took over. They all sprang into action. Tara dashed toward Quinn's room, but Iris caught her arm just in time, her grip firm and unyielding.

"Stay here," she told her urgently, her eyes wide with fear.

"Chad, get ready," Iris’s voice was low but commanding as she pushed Tara toward him. He nodded, understanding what his friend meant.

The five of them, alongside Anika, stood tense and anxious, their breaths shallow as they faced the door. The sounds of chaos poured out from within: furniture crashing, muffled shouts, and a struggle that sent chills down their spines. Then, suddenly, the screams stopped and a horrible silence enveloped them.

"Run," Mindy hissed, her voice sharp with urgency. Just as the words left her mouth, the bedroom door burst open with a violent

force.

Ghostface emerged, a terrifying silhouette against the dim light of the hallway. With a swift, brutal motion, he hurled Quinn's limp body towards them. The thud of her landing was sickening, and Anika's scream pierced the air as Quinn crumpled on top of her.

Iris reacted instinctively, yanking Quinn's bloodied body away from Anika, panic and horror coursing through her veins. "No!

Quinn!" she cried, desperation clawing at her throat.

"We need to go!" Tara yelled, urgency in her voice. Chad clutched her arm, and they bolted for the door, believing their friends were right on their heels.

Suddenly, the air thickened with tension as Ghostface fixed his gaze on them, waiting to see who would make the first move. But there was no time to strategize; he surged forward, targeting Iris with deadly intent as he swiped his knife at her. She dodged every strike as quickly as she could, but eventually he sank his knife into her arm, causing her to scream in pain.

"Fuck you" She yelled and kicked the attacker hard in the crotch, sending him reeling back for a brief second that allowed her to stand up. When he got to his feet again, he turned and punched her in the stomach. Iris pushed away from the blow in time to see Ghostface lower his knife and impale it in the wall where her head had been.

Iris grabbed the back of his head, slamming it against the wall before delivering a kick to his legs. He turned around and strongly pushed her to the floor, ready to attack her once again.

Mindy rushed at him, determined to pull him away from Iris, but as they hit the floor, he simply shoved her aside and stabbed her in the upper arm, causing blood to flow everywhere.

Anika, still on the ground, grasped his ankles, trying to trip him and free Mindy. Ghostface quickly climbed over Anika, and he started to choke her before he lifted her up and slammed her into the fireplace as he sank his knife into her abdomen, slowly dragging it upwards, causing the woman to scream in agony.

Iris quickly sprang to her feet, grabbed a lamp close to the coffee table, and smashed it into Ghostface's head. He staggered and lost his grip on Anika as a result, while Mindy hurried to her girlfriend.

Sam entered just in time, slamming an empty knife block into Ghostface's head as she angrily punched him with it a couple of times.

"Come on!" Yelled Sam.

Despite the pain in her arm, Iris went over to Anika, threw an arm around her waist, and ran towards the nearest room, which happened to be Quinn's. She could feel Sam and Mindy approaching from behind, and they hurried into the room, locking the door as fast as they could.

"Fuck" Mindy sat in the bed and groaned as she put pressure in her arm, blood pouring out of it. Anika was sitting next to her groaning in pain while she held her stomach, they all tried to ignore the amount of blood she was losing.

"Hey, look at me," Iris said urgently, grasping both of Anika's cheeks with her hands to force her to focus. Anika's eyes fluttered, the effort to stay awake written all over her face. Iris could feel a wave of panic rising within her, but she fought it down. "Everything is going to be fine. I need you to stay awake, okay? Just look at me."

Anika blinked slowly, her gaze wavering as she tried to hold on to Iris's reassuring presence. In the background, they could hear Ghostaface grunting and pushing against the door, the sound echoing in the tense silence. Then, suddenly, he stopped, and the air grew heavier with uncertainty.

"Bathroom door, hurry," Sam whispered, fear lacing her voice as she looked at Iris with wide, frantic eyes.

Without hesitating, Iris nodded and darted toward the bathroom, her heart racing. She tried to ignore all the mess, the walls were smeared with remnants of blood and the floor didn't look much better.

As she reached the bathroom, the sight that met her made her stomach drop as she saw one of Quinn's hookups lying in his own pool of blood in the tub.

"Fuck, he is dead" Iris shouted as she reached the door, just as Ghostface barreled into view. She instinctively tried to slam it shut, but he forced his body against it, pushing his way through with surprising strength.

"Sam Help!" Iris yelled, her heart racing as she struggled to keep the door closed. Ghostface managed to thrust his arm inside, swiping his knife blindly as he tried to attack her.

Sam sprang into action, rushing to Iris's side. Together, they pushed against the door, straining to keep him at bay. With a final shove, they managed to block Ghostface's arm and wrestle the door closed. They quickly turned the lock, their breaths coming fast as they heard him pounding on the other side.

"We need to barricade it," Iris said, glancing at the dresser nearby.

Without a moment's hesitation, the girls shoved the dresser in front of the door. It scraped loudly against the floor, but they didn't stop until it was firmly in place, creating a barrier between them and the frantic pounding outside.

Panting, they leaned against the dresser for a moment, the adrenaline still coursing through their veins. "What do we do now?" Sam asked, her eyes wide with fear.

Iris took a deep breath, scanning the room for anything they could use. "We need to find a way out. We can't let him get in."

"Mindy, keep Anika awake!" Iris instructed, her voice urgent as she saw the girl on the verge of passing out. Mindy nodded, quickly grabbing a shirt from the floor. She pressed it against Anika's stomach, applying gentle pressure while trying to soothe her.

"Just focus on me, okay love? Keep your eyes open," Mindy said softly, her voice steady despite the horror surrounding them.

Suddenly, Iris spotted a familiar figure outside the window. "Is that Danny?" she asked, her heart racing with a mix of relief and anxiety. She glanced at Sam, who was already nodding as she continued pushing the dresser.

"Go! We've got this!" Mindy urged, stepping away from Anika momentarily to help Iris brace the door. They pushed against it with all their strength, feeling the pressure of the pounding on the other side.

"We are going to die" Mindy whispered, her voice trembling as the weight of the situation settled in.

"Don't fucking say that! You hear me?" Iris snapped. "Anika doesn't need to hear that right now." She turned back to Anika, her heart aching at the sight of her friend's pain-stricken face.

"Ani, you okay?" Iris shouted, forcing herself to remain calm. Anika nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks, though her expression was twisted in pain.

"Everything is going to be fine," Iris said, the words feeling heavy in her throat. She wasn't sure if she believed them, but she needed Anika to hold on.

Ghostface continued to bang violently on the door, each impact sending tremors through the walls as Danny handed a ladder over to Sam. She reached out to grab it, her fingers brushing against the cold metal just as another thunderous slam echoed through the room.

"Get ready!" Danny shouted, his voice strained as he positioned himself in the window to help.

Ghostface slammed into the door again, causing the dresser to shift slightly. Iris and Mindy pressed their backs against it, straining to gain better footing. Iris could feel the panic rising within her, but she refused to let it show. "Guys hurry" she yelled, her voice trembling.

"Only one of you will be able to cross at a time!" Danny shouted from the other side. "Come on!"

"C'mon, guys!" Sam urged, turning to face her friends.

"No way, you guys first!" Iris replied firmly, her resolve unshakeable as she pushed against the dresser, feeling it slide slightly under the pressure. "You go, Sam. You have to."

"Mindy!" Sam glanced at her, desperation flooding her voice.

"Go," Mindy said, determination hardening her features. "We'll hold the door. We'll be fine. We send Anika later" She exchanged a quick, reassuring glance with Iris, who nodded, feeling a surge of confidence from her friend.

Sam took a deep breath, her expression conflicted, but she knew there was no time to waste. "Okay," she finally said, her voice steadier. She carefully maneuvered her way to the window, the ladder swaying slightly beneath her.

“Cmon baby, You've got this!" he encouraged her, his eyes locked on her as she began to cross the ladder.

"I'm okay! Just hold on!" Sam shouted back, glancing over her shoulder to see Iris and Mindy bracing themselves against the dresser.

Once she reached the other side, she shouted, "Come on! Next person!"

The sound of Ghostface's relentless banging reverberated through the room, and Iris felt a rush of fear at the thought of losing her friends.

"Iris, it's your turn," Mindy urged, glancing over her shoulder.

"Fuck no, you go. I'll stay," Iris insisted, struggling against the dresser as Ghostface pressed closer.

Mindy helped Anika get toward the window. "You have to go first," she insisted.

"I can't," Anika whispered, panic rising in her voice.

"You have to please"

"Mindy, please," Anika begged, her eyes wide with fear. Mindy sighed, leaning in for one last kiss.

"I love you, okay?" she said softly, then made her way to the ladder, disappearing into the night.

"Now you, Anika, come on!" Iris called, moving to the window to help.

"I can't," Anika cried, shaking her head desperately.

"You have to! Please, I need to hold the door!".

"You go, Iris, please," Anika urged, her voice trembling.

"Anika, look at me," Iris said firmly, gripping her friend's face. "You are here because of me, because you're my friend and now he did this to you"

"It's not your fault," Anika replied, shaking her head, desperation filling her eyes.

"Yes, it is," Iris insisted, her voice steady despite the fear swirling around them. "I need you to get onto that ladder, okay? I can't let you die on me. I'll hold him off."

Anika's heart sank as she realized Iris had already made her decision. There was no changing her mind. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, determination replacing her fear as she stepped toward the window.

Iris moved to the door, her body tense as she braced herself against it. "Just go!" she shouted, her voice filled with urgency. Anika climbed onto the ladder, her hands trembling as she reached for the rungs.

As she moved, Anika felt the warmth of blood seeping through her clothes, each drop a reminder of the danger they were facing. Her strength waned with every movement, her bones feeling heavier, her vision dimming. Panic bubbled beneath the surface as she glanced back, seeing Iris struggling to keep the door shut against Ghostface's pounding.

"Come on, Anika! You can do this!" Iris shouted, her eyes fierce with fear. "Just a little further!"

Anika pushed herself to keep climbing, her heart racing. "Iris!" she called out, but the sound felt distant as her world began to blur.

Then, through the haze, she spotted Danny, his hands reaching for her from the other side of the window. Relief washed over her as she felt herself being pulled into the safety of his apartment. Just as she crossed the threshold, she heard Iris scream, the sound chilling her to the bone.

"IRIS, COME ON!" Sam shouted from the apartment, panic evident in her voice. She couldn't lose Iris now; it felt more real than ever in that moment.

Iris stood at the window, the ladder swaying slightly beneath her as she peered down into the darkness below. Her heart raced, each thud of Ghostface against the door echoing in her ears, a constant reminder that time was running out.

She took a deep breath, her injured arm pulsing with pain. The wound throbbed, making her hesitate as she gripped the ladder.

With trembling hands, Iris stepped onto the first rung. The metal felt cold beneath her fingers. She glanced back at the door, where the pounding intensified, splintering the wood with each blow. She could almost feel the dark figure on the other side, waiting for the moment when she would falter.

The ladder shifted slightly, and Iris's stomach dropped. She steadied herself, breathing deeply as she forced one foot after the other onto the rungs. Each movement sent jolts of pain through her arm.

Suddenly, a loud crack echoed through the room, the door splintering under the force of Ghostface's relentless assault. Panic surged through Iris as she felt him drawing closer, but she forced herself to focus. She was so close to the window, right in the middle of the way.

With every ounce of willpower, she pushed her body forward, her injured arm screaming in protest. The pain was sharp and relentless, but she couldn't afford to give in to it. Behind her, the door finally gave way, crashing open as Ghostface entered, his presence suffocating the air. He stepped into the room, eyes locked on her, and her heart dropped.

He approached the window and impaled the knife in the wood before reaching for the ladder. "No, no, no—fuck!" Iris whimpered, her desperation growing as she glanced back at Mindy and Sam, who were frantic with fear.

"IRIS, YOU HAVE TO MOVE NOW!" Mindy yelled, urgency lacing her voice. But Iris's eyes were glued to the figure at the window, dread pooling in her stomach as Ghostface lifted the ladder with ease, shaking it violently. The metal rattled beneath her, each jolt sending a wave of terror coursing through her.

Iris took another step, her heart pounding in her chest. The ladder swayed again, and she felt a rush of vertigo. "No, no, no," she muttered under her breath, gripping the rungs tighter.

Ghostface shook the ladder again, trying to dislodge her. Iris could feel the metal creaking beneath her as she lay flat against it, fighting to maintain her grip. Her heart raced, and she felt herself teetering on the edge. Sam's hand brushed hers, but she couldn't get a solid hold.

"Iris!" Sam urged, panic etched on her face. "Just a little further!"

"No!" Iris cried out, feeling her grip weaken as the ladder wobbled precariously. "I can't".

"Iris, you have to keep going!" Mindy shouted, her voice breaking through the chaos.

Iris squeezed her eyes shut, summoning every ounce of strength she had left. She pushed against the pain in her arm, forcing herself to move. With a deep breath, she began inching forward, her body trembling with fear and exhaustion.

Ghostface was still right there, the knife gleaming menacingly as he gripped the ladder, continued to shake it, his movements gleaming with malicious intent.

Sam reached out, stretching half of her body out of the window, her heart racing as she desperately tried to reach for Iris. Danny and Mindy embraced her in order to protect her from falling. Finally, her fingers found Iris's forearm, she gripped it tightly, not willing to let go of the girl. "I've got you!" she shouted, pulling with all her strength.

Danny joined Sam and together they managed to inch her closer. With one last, frantic effort, Danny scrambled through the window, his arms wrapping securely around Iris. He pulled her into the apartment with a powerful yank.

Iris rolled into the room, gasping as she hit the floor. The moment felt surreal, the adrenaline still coursing through them as she scrambled to her feet. But just as relief began to wash over them, they all turned and froze. There stood Ghostface, staring coldly at them from the window of their apartment. The knife glinted menacingly in his grip.

"I'm going to kill you motherfucker" Iris shouted, her voice laced with anger and fear. The words echoing in the small space. "You heard me? I'll fucking end you!"

Ghostface stood still for a heartbeat, seemingly assessing them, before slowly backing away as he slipped out of the room.

"Iris, thank god you're okay!" Sam exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend in a tight embrace, her relief palpable as tears streamed down her cheeks. "You're okay."

But the moment of safety was short-lived. "We need to get her to the hospital right now!" Danny shouted, urgency in his voice as he moved towards the door. He had Anika in his arms, applying pressure to her wound, his face strained with concern.

Iris swayed slightly, still in shock but nodding at Danny's command. "He's right" she managed to say. Just as she began to move, her strength gave out, and she suddenly collapsed to the ground.

#scream #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream x reader #tara carpenter #tara carpenter imagine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x fem!reader #tara carpenter x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x reader #sam carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin

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out-there-tmblr · 5 months ago

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Young zaundads wip (39)

***

The next issue is whose name to use. Silco argues that it's mostly Vander's money and Vander argues that it's Silco's bright idea. They call a truce to go to bed and by the next night, Silco's changed his mind.

"We'll put it in my name," he says. "It's not technically illegal but if the enforcers come calling, they won't have anything on you if your name isn't on it."

It's a noble gesture, Vander can see that, but the idea of Silco locked away in the dark… it sits in his stomach like a stone.

"As you said," Silco adds, aiming for comforting and hitting a false brightness instead, "it's my idea. If there are consequences, it should fall on me."

"That's ridiculous. Of the two of us, I'm far more likely to make new friends. And if that didn't work, you know I'd be able to handle myself."

"We are not arguing over which of us is more likely to survive Stillwater." It's a sign of how annoyed Silco is that he snaps his notebook shut and pushes away from the desk. "I've survived here. I would survive there."

"You're crazy if you think I'd let them take you away without a fight," Vander snarls, stepping in close.

Silco doesn't back down, doesn't even step away. No, he tilts his head back to stare Vander down. "There'd be no point. You wouldn't win."

"I know I wouldn't! But you can't expect me to just let it happen!"

"And then what? We're both stuck in Stillwater?" Silco demands, one bony finger poking at Vander's chest. "The smart thing to do is have someone on the outside who will try to bribe your way out."

Silco glares up at him, wild eyed and incensed. It doesn't matter that Vander's right; Silco's not going to admit it tonight. Curling forward, Vander rests his forehead against Silco's, eyes closed. He holds Silco's arms in a loose grip, fingers loose against the worn cotton. "If that's what you want, it needs to be my name on that deed. I'm not going to think clearly if something happens to you."

Silco gives a small shake of his head but he lets the matter rest for the night. There's still a thrumming tension between them so they sleep on their sides, back to back. Vander falls asleep with the solid warmth of Silco behind him and wakes up in the morning to find Silco's still mad at him. For something Vander hasn't even done yet.

"Are you still angry at me hypothetically attacking enforcers for you?" Vander asks as Silco shoves his arms into his jacket with unnecessary force. He rethinks the wisdom of bringing it up before breakfast when Silco spins around to glare at him.

"It would be a waste," Silco bites back. If anything, he's angrier than last night. Like he's had time to simmer over all the reasons Vander is wrong. "A complete waste! Why throw your life away just because mine's ruined? It won't fix anything, it won't save me. It's a completely pointless gesture."

It's too much before Vander's even had breakfast. "What else am I going to do, Silco? What am I going to do without you?"

"The same thing you did before you met me. See your friends. Work. Find some new pretty thing," Silco spits out but that incandescent anger is starting to fade.

Vander lifts a hand to Silco's cheek. His hands have always been big, strong and clumsy, but Vander likes easily he can cradle Silco's face. His thumb brushes Silco's temple while his palm rests against Silco's jaw, the loose slide of Silco's hair under his fingertips. "I don't want anyone else."

Silco gives him that look. That 'I don't need you to buy me food' look. That 'don't waste your money on me' look. That look that tries to be discouraging, tries to hide how much he likes it when Vander does.

"I'm not saying you do," Silco says, wrapping a hand around Vander's wrist, fingers cool and gentle. He tilts his head down to press a kiss to the heel of Vander's hand, and then nips at the skin, a sudden drag of sharp teeth. "I'm not saying it would be easy, but we can't both… If I get dragged away to Stillwater, it's not going to make me feel better to know you're rotting beside me. I'd rather know you were out here, living."

Vander understands that, he does, but… It makes him feel like he's seventeen again, holding his ma's cold hand and wondering what he's supposed to do now. Like he's nine years old, waiting at the dock, waiting for a small fishing boat that never returns. "I don't want to be left behind again."

Silco pulls him down into a hug. Tucks Vander's head against his shoulder and runs a soothing hand up and down Vander's back. Keeps his other hand tight on the back of Vander's head, holding him close. "I'm not going anywhere, Vander."

***

Vander's not sure if he wins the argument but they do settle on using Vander's name on the paperwork. Not because Silco's seen sense. Not because he admits that of the two of them, Vander's going to have an easier time in prison and Silco's more likely to figure out a way to get him out. No, Silco agrees because Benzo, of all people, says, "Do you think the company would take it?"

Silco looks up from his plate, the food on his fork forgotten. "What?"

"As payment for your debts," Benzo says casually, scooping up a spoonful of the grey-brown stew. "If you actually get a market working there, if it makes money, do you think the company would be interested?"

It's not a thought that ever occurred to Vander. From the expression on Silco's face, he hadn't thought of it either.

It turns out that Silco considers the company a bigger threat than enforcers. Enforcers might stretch their powers if it suits them -- but only if it suits them -- but the company has been lurking over Silco's shoulder all his life. He's not going to risk them having any claim over this.

The end of the month is only a few days away and Silco's certain they'll have enough to pay for the land transfer and their next few shipments. He's already made arrangements with Babette for clothes and has started filling out the forms in painstakingly neat letters, allowing the ink to dry thoroughly before he moves the page.

Silco carefully places the pen on the desk. "I supposed there's no chance one of your parents had a family name?"

"I called them Dad and Ma," Vander replies, fixing the torn seam on his shirt. His stitches always come out bigger than his ma's would have been but they do the job.

"As in a surname," Silco clarifies, looking over his shoulder.

Vander snorts. "I'm not a Piltie."

"We need something for the form." Silco wanders over the three steps to Vander sitting on the floor, his shirt over his lap. "Whatever you like because there's no way they can prove it isn't your name."

"Huh." Vander pulls the thread through and carefully makes the next stitch. "Let me think on it."

***

#zaundads #fic: brush off all the dirt

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gummilutt · 2 years ago

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Get dressed action on towel racks

A while ago I started using @episims' wonderful towel lite mod that makes our Sims put on a towel or a bathrobe after they shower or bathe. It adds a delightful touch of realism that is really fun. But as much as I enjoy taking my rich lady from her fancy bathroom to her walk in closet in a towel, sometimes I don't want to send my Sim past their bedroom to get dressed. When I shower I usually get dressed in the bathroom, putting on clothes I hung by the towels before getting in the shower. I thought, why can't my Sims do the same? With a little imagination, I re-purposed the actions of the Seasons coat rack to add clothes-changing animations to the towel racks that most of my Sims already have in their bathrooms, so that I can pretend they too put out their clothes on the towel rack before getting in. I wasn't sure if it was worth uploading but you guys loved the idea so here we go! :)

I only added everyday, formal and pyjamas because those are the three I thought it likely I would ever want. Shower during the day? Everyday clothes please! Girlies got ready for a night out? Get glam with your formal wear! A shower before bed? You'll want your pyjamas. The other categories seem unlikely, but I am open to updating it if there's a persuasive reason :)

As you can see in the video Sims are pretty decent about using the towel racks, even if they are on a wall behind stuff. I haven't altered the actual code to navigate to it, it uses the same slot as viewing the deco object did previously, which in my test has worked well. In the end I had to use different animations for children because the coat rack uses a step stool which needs a slot that the deco objects do not have and I could not figure out adding one. It was either different animations or floating in the air, so different animations it is :)

I've edited three of the Maxis towel racks. "Towel on a Metal Rod", "Towel on a Wooden Rod" and "Towel Hanger Plus Plus". I'm also sharing one edited CC towel rack by Simply Styling, which I discovered through @gayars recolors found on her website here.

Get maxis towel rack add on on SFS | Get Jope towel rack on SFS

If any creators would like to add these edits to their own towel racks, please feel free to do so. To make it easier on you, or any simmer that simply wants to update things they downloaded, I prepared a download package with the resources you need and some basic instructions. It's not step by step, it assumes you are familiar with edits. Should anyone want or need more detailed instructions, I am happy to help when I can :) (Update 2024-03-06 I replaced the routing mechanism in the interactions, to avoid a slot-missing error that happens in some CC objects that do not have a routing slot)

Conflicts: The maxis towel rack add on are global plug in for those objects, which means there is a potential for conflicts. HCDU+ will find any conflicts, but I doubt there are any. Indirect conflicts may also occur if you have mods that add additional interactions to deco objects, they would not show on the towel racks because I have overridden their usual pie menu.

Credits: whoward69 at @picknmixsims who taught me how to edit event trees in animations, @episims for the towel lite mod that inspired this, @gayars who taught me how to repurpose animations between objects and for introducing me to the jope towel, and all you lovely people that encouraged me to post this with your enthusiasm <3

#ts2 mods #gummiluttmods #ts2 gameplay #ts2 cc

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mythorhuman · 10 months ago

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These Lips...

This was his chance and he had to take it. Klaus knew there wouldn't be another opportunity to recruit the town witch that foiled his plans. Bonnie Bennett was loyal to the core, but the betrayal of the Salvatores could be his opening. Her mother, Abigail, has refused to transition into vampirism and her blood is on the Salvatores’ hands. Abby chose death and abandoned her daughter once again, this time permanently.

These circumstances gave Klaus the idea that he could recruit Bonnie. He hasn't had a witch at his side since Greta. She was more useful between the sheets than with her magic since she too had been killed by Damon Salvatore. Despite her inexperience, Klaus knew Bonnie was a real gem with an immense talent for spells and lots of power. This idea may sound foolish, but he was willing to try.

The stars lit the sky as he stood outside the Bennett home. He had knocked upon the door with flowers in hand that he compelled from a florist in town. The door slammed open with unexpected aggression from a girl that he expected to be drowning in her tears.

“What are you doing here?” Bonnie asked with a furrowed brow and hands on her hips.

Taken aback by her image, Klaus stared. The thin, white cotton tank and tiny shorts were the most exposed he'd ever seen her. He schooled his expression before responding, “I'm here to offer my condolences.”

“Orchids? Is this a joke?” She stepped onto the porch in pink fuzzy socks to retrieve the potted plant from his arms.

“I know how much you adore flowers.” The scent of her rose perfume always lingered when

“Thanks,” Bonnie snorted before giving him a dismissive wave. “You can leave now.”

“You won't invite me in?”

“I'm a little tipsy but I'm not stupid.”

Klaus eyed her shivering form and the hardened nipples poking through her top. With her figure on display, he knew her breasts would fit perfectly in his hands. He didn't come here for her body, and yet she's too enchanting to resist.“You look a little cold.”

She was completely oblivious to his simmering lust for her and rolled her eyes, thinking he was pretending to care about her well-being. “I'm fine. No need to worry about me.”

“I know how you're feeling,” He whispered as he stared into her eyes. “I've lost a mother before.”

Bonnie sighed, frustrated with his refusal to go. He would not fool her with fake empathy. She wanted to grieve alone and bonding over mommy issues with a serial killer wasn't on her agenda for tonight. “You killed your mother and now she wants to kill you.”

“We weren't always so focused on rage and murder, you know.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“It was but I can remember it clearly.” Klaus gave a small smile and Bonnie refused to be distracted by his cute dimples.

“And how did you feel after you murdered your mother?”

“I wasn't grieving my mother, but the mother I wished I had. The ache in your stomach, the longing for her acceptance, the overwhelming loneliness…”

“Sounds familiar,” said Bonnie as she looked away from him to count the stars. Talking to Klaus wasn't what she expected. It was too comfortable. And it didn't seem like he was planning to go anytime soon.

“You’ll get through this, Bonnie,” Klaus spoke, focused on the pain written on her face. “You've always been strong, amazingly so.”

“What if I don't want to be strong?”

He gently grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to connect. “Then allow me to be strong for you.”

“You?”

“I can take good care of you. I just need you to let me in.”

Bonnie hesitated while she memorized every detail of his face at this moment. She was always aware that he was handsome despite his villainous way. The unusual softness in his eyes made her act out of character and press a light kiss to his lips. “Come in.”

#bonnie bennett #klaus mikaelson #klonnie #klonnieweek2024 #written by lee

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podiumackles · 8 months ago

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the moments that stay (they turn out all wrong)

In which the man she could never forget suddenly turns up at her cell, but he has no remembrance of the woman in front of him. And the moments that stayed with her for decades, turn out to be her memories only.

series masterlist

CHAPTER 4

A/N: This one took me a while, but I'm back! I've been to two comic cons in a row, and I've just been so busy with work as well, so my writing motivation was little to none. But here's part 4! English isn't my first language!! apologies in advance.

Outlines: After being his sidekick in Payback for years, you-better known as your supename Fury-ended up on the same end of Soldier Boy's violence as every other person. What you didn't realise, however, was that your old team had set you both up for betrayal, right when you thought you were helping them in getting him. After decades of being stuck in Vought's testing lab, you heard Soldier Boy got out. But the man who appeared in front of your cell wasn't the man you knew.

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of gore, mentions of blood, mentions of death, soldier boy (yes, this man should be considered a warning), and possibly wrong storytelling in lines of the canon events. I'm not that good at remembering, guys. and the boys was just kinda complicated. forgive me.

Present

It was only a couple of minutes later when Butcher finally broke the dreading silence, but your mind had raced through a timespan of hours. “We need to get out. Get up, love.”

A tight grip fastened around your right upper arm, lifting you urgently but with slight care. Your eyes barely left the horror scene of several guts splashed against the walls in the hallway, body parts scattered around the floor, and in the back of your mind, you remembered the two decapitated bodies Ben had been the cause of.

The air felt electric, the smell of smoke burning through your nostrils and finding the dreaded way towards your throat. You could barely believe it was your doing, but there was no denying the destruction that lay in your wake.

Ben stood rooted to the spot near the door, his shield lowered but still gripped tightly. His eyes flicked toward you, and for the first time, the cold indifference you had become accustomed now labelled as fear. And it frightened you because, for a second, you got the feeling he would lash out like he did all those years ago.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on it.

“No,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “I need you to tell me what happened.”

You could barely recall the moment you lost control, the power that had surged through you. But the aftermath was all too real. You stared at your trembling hands, electricity still sparking between your fingers, the residual energy crackling like a distant storm.

Ben didn’t respond. The tension between the men hung in the air like a ticking time bomb.

“Like I said, we need to move,” Butcher said, his voice gruff as he pushed away from the terminal. “We’re locked down for now, but Vought’ll be on our arses soon enough. Let’s get the fuck outta ‘ere.”

You took a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself. The adrenaline from the fight was fading fast, replaced by a gnawing fear—of yourself, of the power you’d just unleashed. You could feel it, the wild storm inside of you. You had no idea what had triggered it or if you could control it again. And judging by the way Ben was looking at you, he wasn’t too sure either.

As the three of you moved out of the control room and into the hallway, the facility felt strangely empty, the echoes of your destruction trailing behind you like a shadow. But you knew better. Vought wouldn’t give up that easily.

Ben walked ahead, his broad frame cutting a path through the blood-splattered hallway, but his movements were more cautious now. The confidence and rage that usually simmered beneath his surface were subdued as if he was watching you closely, waiting for you to lose control again.

You didn’t blame him.

Everything was silent. Too silent.

You just wanted either of the men to scream at you- put you back in that cell as a result of their fears.

But none of it came.

Butcher, ever the pragmatist, kept his focus on the exit, but even he glanced at you from time to time, something unspoken in his gaze. He had seen supes use their powers before—hell, he’d fought against them—and while he wasn’t afraid, he certainly wasn’t going to let his guard down around you. Not anymore.

“Oi,” Butcher muttered as you approached the final set of doors that led to the outside. “You good? That little light show back there—gonna happen again?”

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress the trembling in your hands. “I don’t know.” you admitted, hating how uncertain your voice sounded. You didn’t want to make yourself weak.

But with the way you lashed out, you didn’t think either of the two would think you were weak.

Except maybe Ben.

Because he thought you were a lab rat.

Butcher raised an eyebrow. “Well, now’s not the time to go rogue on us, love. We still gotta make it outta ‘ere in one piece.”

You bit back a retort, knowing he was right. But his words only fuelled the fear already building inside you. You weren’t sure what this would mean for you.

Ben stopped at the door, glancing back at the two of you. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary. “You sure you aren’t going to fucking kill us?” he asked, his voice gruff and unkind.

And you knew then. He didn’t think you were weak.

He thought you were a monster.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words. “Fuck if I know.”

For a moment, the three of you stood in silence, the distant wail of sirens and alarms a constant reminder that your time was running out. Then Ben nodded, accepting your answer without further comment. He shoved the door open, leading the way into the cold night air outside the facility.

The wind hit your face like a slap, fresh air filling your lungs like the first glass of burning whiskey on a night out. You felt exhausted, nearly falling to your knees at the spot. You glanced up at the night sky, stars barely visible through the haze of city lights, and took a deep breath. For the first time in decades, you were free.

But freedom came with a cost.

And you weren’t sure you could pay it.

Ben and Butcher kept a steady pace as they made their way through the fallen snow, the white burning into your eyes like you’d just stared at the sun, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at you.

The facility was behind you, but Vought’s reach extended far beyond those walls. And as much as you wanted to believe the worst was over, you knew better.

This was only the beginning.

As the three of you approached the extraction point, the sound of distant helicopters filled the air, and you could already see the headlights of Vought’s vehicles in the distance, closing in fast. There would be no rest, no time to process what had happened. Not yet.

A black van stood in the dim light of the moon, right behind the final passage of your imprisonment. The two men ran towards it, making you realise this was their transport. You tried to bite through your exhaustion, your pain, but it was to no avail.

Right as you saw a figure leave the vehicle, you fell to your knees on the ice-cold ground- the joined snowflakes burning your knees through your pants.

But you could barely pay it any mind.

The figure from the van moved quickly, their boots crunching through the snow as they approached you. It soon took the shape of a scrawny-looking man, but he couldn’t have been much older than thirty. A slight stubble caressed the lower half of his face, and a few fluffed pieces of hair came from under his beanie.

You struggled to keep your eyes open, feeling the last of your adrenaline slipping away, the cold seeping into your bones. You could barely make out Butcher’s voice, barking orders at the newcomer, but it all sounded distant, muffled by the ringing in your ears, the sounds of the helicopters. Even the weather couldn’t give you strength this time.

But amongst the sounds you could vaguely hear, Soldier Boy’s voice was not one of them.

“Stay with us,” the newest person said, their voice unsurprisingly gentle as they knelt beside you. A hand gripped your arm, steadying you. You tried to focus on them, but the edges of your vision blurred, darkness creeping in at the corners.

About two more people left the van, but you didn’t have any energy to analyse them.

A face appeared above yours, concern etched into their face. “You’re not dying on us,” they growled, and their care confused you. You didn’t even know them. “We need you to hold it together.”

And you tried. God, did you try.

You weren’t weak.

You weren’t pathetic.

And most of all, you weren’t going to make a fool of yourselves.

So, instead of succumbing to the darkness that had crept into your mind, you looked up at the broad figure and focused on his kind, but demanding eyes. Three men held you up, and you could vaguely make out the figure of your former companion getting into the back of the van without a word.

You were helped up into the vehicle, and for a moment you felt like the fool you were afraid to become. You were a supe. A soldier. There shouldn’t have been any need to get lifted into a van by three men.

Taking your place near the backdoor, you lifted up your legs and wrapped your arms around them to keep yourself warm. You tried to summon the power of the sun, the warmth of fire. But all you got was electricity. Cold, prickling electricity.

Looking out the back window, you tried everything not to make any eye contact with the people around you, as the last person stepped inside and closed the side door.

The air was thick with tension and a strange, almost hesitant feeling of understanding. You slumped further against the cold metal side, feeling the slight vibrations as the van roared to life and sped away from the facility. Every bump on the road sent jolts of pain through your body, but you bit down the groans that threatened to escape.

The scrawny man from earlier sat beside you, his gaze flitting between you and Soldier Boy, who sat in the far corner on the other side of the vehicle, keeping his eyes trained out the window as well. He didn’t acknowledge you, but his silence spoke volumes.

Butcher, sitting directly across from you, watched you carefully, his gaze flicking between the sparks still dancing faintly along your hands and your exhausted expression. He was assessing, weighing whether you were still a threat.

“Listen,” Butcher’s voice cut through the quiet, “I don’t give a rat’s arse if you’re feelin’ sorry for yourself. We need you sharp if we’re gonna get through this alive. That means no more ‘accidents,’ got it?”

His tone was harsh, but beneath it was a sliver of something else—almost like concern. Or at least, as close to concern as Butcher could ever muster.

You managed a nod, barely meeting his eyes.

Part of you was angry.

Angry at yourself, angry at Butcher.

But most of all, angry at Ben.

Because how the fuck could he walk around, swinging that shield like it’s nothing, without a single memory of you lingering inside his mind?

You bore your memories. You were burdened with them.

But now, you bore his, too.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” You decided to speak up, deciding to no longer make a fool of yourself. Truth was, you had no idea if you could keep the outburst from happening again. The power felt wild inside you, like a caged animal ready to break free the moment you lost your grip.

You turned away, focusing instead on the faint vibration of the van as it rumbled along a rough road. The cold had settled deep into your muscles, making you shiver uncontrollably. It felt like you’d never be warm again.

Butcher, noticing your discomfort, threw a blanket your way, which you caught with clumsy hands. “Don’t say I never do nothin’ for ya.” he muttered. There was no softness in his tone, but it wasn’t entirely unfriendly either. Maybe he didn’t hate you—yet.

He was the one who wanted to get you out of there, anyway.

For his own damn purposes, that is.

You wrapped the blanket around yourself, trying to gather your thoughts. “What is this about?” you asked, not sure if the only thing they’ve done was lie to your face. “The truth, this time.”

Ben switched his gaze towards you instantly, sending you a look that was close to a death glare. And you were the stupid one who locked eyes with him at that moment.

And at that point, you missed his caring gaze. His words that only you had gotten in the past. The person he cared enough for to catch a bullet to the head.

Until he didn’t.

Butcher tilted his head, sending Ben a daring glare, which caused him to look away.

“Butcher’s got a thing for picking up strays.” Soldier boy spoke sternly, absently averting his gaze back outside, his eyes trembling as they followed their surroundings.

You broke your stare towards Ben, and you could sense the weight of his words passing towards you. You were just another stray to them. And you weren’t sure what that meant.

Butcher still didn’t answer. Either he didn’t have one, or he didn’t want you to know about it.

The silence inside the van thickened, each unspoken word a weight pressing down on you. Ben's brief outburst still echoed in your mind, the sharpness of it reminding you just how far you'd fallen from the fragile trust you thought you’d shared with him. He wouldn’t even look at you now, the distance between you as icy as the snow you’d collapsed into earlier.

Butcher leaned back, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. It was like he was weighing whether to trust you with more—or if it was safer to keep you in the dark.

Finally, he spoke up, his voice low. “We’ve got a little operation. Some resources, a few people who ain’t fond of being Vought’s lapdogs,” you noticed a slight tremble in his voice. One a regular person wouldn’t have noticed. “We just needed one more backup- someone who knows all about the company. You.”

You clearly felt like it was a lie.

A straight-up, fully thought-out lie.

Butcher’s words grated against your nerves, the blatant half-truth curling like smoke in the air between you. It was too clean, too practised. You could see the calculation behind his eyes—what he was willing to share and what he wasn't.

You raised an eyebrow, letting the silence stretch out uncomfortably as you locked eyes with him. “Just needed backup, huh?” you echoed, your voice cutting through the tension in the van like a blade. “And it just so happened that your ‘backup’ was locked in one of Vought’s prisons?”

Butcher’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. He didn’t like being called out, but he didn’t deny it, either. “Look, it’s more complicated than that,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his bearded chin. “Vought’s got their hands in everything. Any chance to screw with ‘em, we take it. You were there, we got you out. Simple as.”

Ben scoffed, turning his head toward you. His gaze was sharp, scrutinizing. “Yeah, and it’s not like you’ve got anywhere better to be, do you?” His voice was harsher than you remembered as if all the warmth you once thought you saw in him had been stripped away, leaving only the bitterness behind. “Or would you rather be back in that cell?”

You clenched your hands into fists beneath the blanket, feeling the sparks crackle faintly against your skin. It was a good reminder that you were far from powerless, even if you felt lost. But you held the charge back, not wanting to give them any more reason to doubt you—or fear you. “I don’t know what I want,” you admitted quietly, and the honesty of the words stung. “But I know I don’t trust any of you. Not yet.”

Butcher gave a rough chuckle, but it lacked humour. “Yeah, well, join the club. We’re not here to make friends, love. Just keep your head down, and don’t fuckin’ lose it in the process.”

You looked away, your mind racing with the implications of this uneasy alliance. The cold seeped through the metal walls of the van, biting at your skin, but it was nothing compared to the chill in Ben’s gaze. He had been your ally once, your only friend in the darkness. Now, you couldn’t tell if he’d ever been on your side at all.

As the van bumped along the dark road, the tension between all of you settled into a heavy, uncomfortable silence. But despite everything, one thought gnawed at you, refusing to be silenced.

Whatever Butcher’s real reason was for pulling you from that cell, it was more than just needing an extra set of hands. And you would find out what it was—one way or another.

A/N: as always, feedback is appreciated! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @demodemo909 @deangirl96 @mostlymarvelgirl @n-o-p-e-never @daisydark @mxltifxnd0m @lamentationsofalonelypotato

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy/ben #the boys amazon #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #soldier boy smut #the boys #the boys tv

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lilacl0veskrew · 11 months ago

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𝚄𝚗𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝙰𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚂𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜

The Touchstarved cast ended up in the modern world somehow. Your world! So what better way to teach them about it then with a road trip! But unfortunately, they have to figure out the seat assignments in the car if you're ever gonna get on the road! You're driving so you don't really care but all the noise and strong opinions are causing your irritation to simmer beneath your skin. ∥ Touchstarved LI x GN! Modern! Tired!Reader. This is my first time writing on Tumblr but won't be my last. I've had this fake scenario in my head for a while so I'm happy I get to put it in writing. Enjoy.

Credits to @cafekitsune for the cute divider

Zzp!-

You paused, looking up and taking a deep breath so you wouldn't lose your mind. "Please, God, grant me the patience today." You angrily shoved your fingers into the edge of the suitcase, pushing in the peaking fabric responsible for your anger. The fury simmering under your skin was about to explode. The amount of zippers that had jammed that morning was astronomical. You pulled the zipper, finally closing the last suitcase, your anger starting to calm again. You turned your head, only to notice that you had forgotten to put something in said suitcase. The only way you could express your anger in that moment was very exotic hand gestures. You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned your head. "Hey, [Name]? You seem annoyed, is everything okay?" You shrugged his hand off, you weren't in the mood for him to be touching you. "It's fine, Leander. Really. Go join the others outside. I need a minute." He smiled at you, seeming a little dejected by your rejection however obeyed your command nonetheless. You threw the misplaced item into your backpack and leaned against the edge of your bed. You had no idea how this managed to happen. "Going on a road trip with 5 people I barely know. That's not a recipe for disaster at all." You picked yourself back up, dragging the last suit case out to the car.

"I'm not sitting with him." Mhin said, audible sneer in their voice as they talked about Vere. You took a deep breath, placing the suitcase into the trunk of the car. You pushed it down, hearing it click as it locked. "[Name]. Your timing is immaculate." "Ah, yes. What bullshit shall greet me today? What's the problem now?" Kuras tilted his head to the right, your eyes followed, landing on Mhin, Vere, Ais, and Leander all debating where they were gonna sit in the car. "Oh my fucking god." Ais looked at you, a sit eating grin rising to his face. "Upset about something, sparrow?" You gave him a deadpan look, "Wow, you are so perceptive." You grumbled, annoyance bleeding into your voice. "So, what's the problem? Kuras gave me a run down." Vere looked at you, a pout on his face. "[Name]~" He cooed softly. "Do you have a bigger car, I don't wanna sit with any of you." Without missing a beat, you said, "Vere, if you keep complaining the next time you're showering I'm gonna throw something electrical in there and fry your ass." You weren't being serious but hopefully it was enough to settle the shit down. His lips curled into a cat like smile, oh how he loved to string you along. "Ooh, how mean. Such pretty lips shouldn't spout such harsh words." You let out a dull hum, barely acknowledging his existence. You heard a familiar scoff, able to almost feel the amusement bleed out of him.

"So we're fighting over seating arrangements?" You took a sip of your thermosed coffee, you weren't gonna be part of this. "I'm driving since I'm the only one who knows how to so I don't really care. You 5 can hash this out yourselves." Leander smile, much to your annoyance. "Well, [Name]. How about you give us some insight?" You leveled his cheerful attitude with a tired look. "If anyone's sitting in the front with me, it's gonna be Mhin or Kuras. Those two are the only one who wouldn't bother me while I'm driving." Ais smiled, "No need to be so harsh, sparrow." "Not being harsh, just being honest." You murmured, taking another sip of your coffee. Leander spoke with a cheerful tone as if it wasn't 5:30 in the morning, "I don't mind the doctor sitting with [Name] and I can sit with Ais!" "No. Absolutely not. I'm not sitting with Ais' housepet." Mhin said with a scowl, Vere's ears twitching in irritation.

You decided to ignore what was going on and start up the car, sitting in the driver seat to warm up. You stared forward into the abyss of the dark street, people who unfortunately work early morning jobs pulling out of their driveways. You heard soft tapping on the window, you had to gather yourself and steel your nerves to not start bugging on whoever was bothering you. You rolled down the window. "I just got in the car, what's the problem now?" Leander, Mhin, Kuras and Vere were scattered around, no longer talking. You stuck your head out and looked around, "Where's Ais?" Leander replied with a sheepish smile. "Smoking." You held your tongue and leaned back with a sigh. "Looks like we're deciding without him." Vere clicked his tongue. "How about we start with our preferences? I'll go first. I hate all four of you." You frowned, "Of course, Vere. Leave it to you to make everything much more difficult then it needs to be." He grinned at you, sharp canines catching the reflected light of the headlight. Sensing the tension, Kuras slipped between you and Vere, taking his place next to Mhin.

You propped your head up with your hand, this is so annoying. "How about we put Vere and Ais together? Because he hates everyone else." Mhin quickly interjected. "Absolutely not. Because leave it to those two to have sex in the back seat." "It'd be better then being put with a garden gnome. Maybe [Name] has an extra booster seat since you clearly forgot yours." Mhin's frown deepened, their face reddening in anger. "Okay, wow. So clearly we're getting nowhere." Vere smiled at you, and god was it evil. "I could sit in the front with you to make this ride less boring." "I'm afraid that will not be happening." Kuras objected with an indifferent tone. Vere scoffed but resigned himself to ignoring the doctor. You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Okay look. We're gonna be on the road for like 5 hours. So we need to decide or we're not getting anywhere."

Ais returned from smoking, snuffing out his cigarette in the damp morning grass. You gave him an irritated look. "How nice of you to join us, Ais." He returned the look you were giving him. Understandable, they'd been arguing for the past 30 minutes. You stared forward through the windshield, the sun was slowly starting to rise. You were desperately trying to tune out the sounds of the bickering but you couldn't.

*Pissed off*

You jolted forward, your body half-way out the window. "STOP, GODDAMNIT. YOU'RE GIVING ME A FUCKING HEADACHE." Everyone went silent at the sound of your sudden outburst. "[Name]-" Your gaze snapped up to Leander. "DON'T INTERRUPT ME. VERE, AIS, BACK SEAT. MHIN, LEANDER, MIDDLE. KURAS, YOU'RE IN THE FRONT WITH ME." You started rapidly clapping your hands to motivate them to move. "LET'S GO, LET'S GO, LET'S GO." Ais looked amused... and proud? Of your your verbal paroxysm. Maybe you were just seeing things while your anger boiled out of control. Surprisingly enough, everyone got into the car without objection. You took a deep breath, falling back into your seat. "Alright. Finally." To drown out anything else that might piss you off, while still being able to hear the five, you put in one airpod, leaving out the other and finally shifting the car's gear from park to drive.

Yay, we finally got onto the road. I'm planning another part or two about how a pit stop gone wrong would go or how the cast would react to their first case of road rage. I'm glad you enjoyed❤️ -Your online bestie

Enjoyed this? Head home!

#touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved leander #touchstarved kuras #touchstarved mhin #touchstarved ais #touchstarved vere #touchstarved fic

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divaatrait · 9 months ago

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If you've been feeling burnt out or are just overall not enjoying the look and feel of your game, this guide is meant for you! Coming from someone who started out with The Sims 3, I've had to do a lot of adjusting to find what I like to do in The Sims 4 and I think I've finally figured it out. In this guide, I'll go over Graphics, Essential Mods, and Gameplay Ideas to help you make your experience more enjoyable!

Graphics✨

The Sims 4's biggest asset over previous iterations is its graphics/aesthetic and more importantly, its versatility in this regard. You can make this game look more realistic or more cartoony depending on what you prefer thanks to ReShade and GShade. While there is controversy with the latter, I think having these kinds of tools added to your game will really help with making the game better to look at. I personally recommend these presets:

@bojanastarcevic's Boho (left) and Light (right) presets

@neecxle's Boho Dreams

@pixelglam's Pearl

As you can see, using these enhancements can add a lot of great atmosphere to your game but knowing how to tweak these to your liking will make all the difference. When installing and using presets, ensure that 1) you have edge smoothing in game turned off 2) you have SMAA or FXAA turned on through ReShade or GShade and 3) you've adjusted ADOF [qUINT_dof.fx] to suit your gameplay.

These are my settings (apologies if it's hard to see) but what gives my screenshots more of a cinematic quality is having the "bokeh" settings adjusted like so. I also have the ADOF hotkey set to "tab" so that it automatically turns on and adjusts the depth-of-field when I want to take a screenshot.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE! While all of these shader presets are extremely important to the look and feel of your game, there's an extra couple of steps you can take.

@plantyl-m's GraphicsRules.sgr makes those in-game shadows nice and crisp! It's a relatively small tweak, but I feel like it makes such a huge difference to the quality.

@softerhaze's Sunblind Lighting Overhaul. The pictures speak for themselves!

@northernsiberiawinds's Better In-Game Lighting is another great option for lighting tweaks (there's also lighting adjustments for CAS that I love to use)

And that pretty much wraps up my segment on graphics! Now, don't feel compelled to use all of these if your computer can't handle it. While these tweaks are nice, they don't make or break the game. Use what works and don't mind what doesn't!

Essential Mods🔧

I'll be the first to admit that without mods this game can be a bit- or a lot- dry. Depending on what kind of gameplay style you prefer, you may not need or want certain mods but I think there are some core mods that EVERY simmer can make use of.

@deaderpoolmc's MCCommand Center is a must-have. I personally use it most often to add relationships between sims for storybuilding, changing how long certain actions like doing homework takes, and changing my Game Time Speed to make my days last longer (more on this later)

Weerbesu's UI Cheats for quick adjustments to household funds, motives, and more.

@twistedmexi's EVERYTHING, but if I had to narrow it down T.O.O.L Mod, Better Build Buy, and All Cheats are the ones I get the most mileage out of.

TurboDriver's Wonderful Whims. In addition to all the features you might be familiar with, you can also use it for posing and animations. It has a positioner as well that makes placing sims so easy!

@bienchien's Whim Overhaul to make what your sims want to do more sensible based on their personality, aspiration, and environment.

For mods that add more gameplay, try out these: Basemental Drugs to add effects from consuming substances @utopya-cc's Passionate Gifts for more romantic interactions @zerbu's Turbo Careers to make more active careers Lot-51's Collection of Mods for various tweaks and features including functional hotels, internet service, and rentable movies.

There's plenty more mods, too many to list in this post but at the end of the day, enjoying your gameplay involves you!

Gameplay Ideas 💭

I love longer gameplay, that was my favorite thing about The Sims 3. But I often felt like managing a longer gameplay in The Sims 4 didn't feel as rewarding. It can be easy to feel like your save has become stagnant, especially if you're only playing with one sim in a household. And I realized why this happens. The Sims 4 has a lot of features, more than I thought, and they're overly available. Right off the bat, I can take my sim anywhere, to any world and do almost anything. And somehow, that makes it feel less impactful. I don't like following structured challenges or scenarios, so this is what I do to make get myself more invested in my sims and their lives.

Create Your Sims Intentionally What does this mean? Create your sims with room to grow the longer you play! Maybe you want a sim to become a famous actor, but they're socially awkward. Now not only do they need to gain fame, but now they're also working to overcome their awkwardness and develop more charisma. Give your sims room to grow, to adjust. Let them have negative traits or dislike things that they might be naturally better at so they have to work harder at what they do like. Another tip: when making your sim in CAS, choose their aspiration based on what bonus trait you'd like them to have then change their aspiration in game. This way, you get an extra trait that may add more to your sim's character.

Give Your Sims a Context to Exist In Because they didn't just fall out of a coconut tree, give your sims other sims to bounce off of. Maybe they have a strained relationship with their parents so they avoid them all the time. Or they had a falling out with an old friend so when they run into each other, it gets super awkward and makes them tense or uncomfortable. Using MCCC or other cheats to give your sims a little more of a backstory when you start playing makes them feel more real as you go forward.

Lengthen Your Game Time Speed When I realized I could do this, it changed everything! Sims take a long time to do pretty much everything. So days and days pass and it feels like you aren't really getting much done. Using MCCC, I changed my Game Time Speed to "30" and that lets me actually stop and think about what I want to get done throughout the day instead of solely focusing on filling their needs. For example, my sims can actually have a full morning routine like going for a walk, making breakfast, and showering before going to work. Having more time in the day lets you focus on all the smaller details and lets you notice that there's actually a lot you can do.

Make or Place Multi-Use Lots and Use T.O.O.L. Mod If you own a decent amount of packs, having multi-use lots is a must to get a lot of bang for your buck. For example, country clubs, movie theaters, restaurants, etc. are going to add to what your sim is able to do. Look at CC made by Cepzid for more functional objects to add variety to what you can do. Also, if you use T.O.O.L. you can place any object in the world to add more activities and make your surroundings feel less like set dressing.

Limit the Worlds You Play In If your sim can go anywhere, at any time, then what is the point of going anywhere at all? I like to limit the worlds that I can visit by using "travel" to around 3 or 4 depending on region. That way, when my sims go to worlds outside of the region, it's more exciting because I'm not constantly seeing it. For example, my current family The Fords live in Brindleton Bay. I'm American so I think of Brindleton Bay as being The Hamptons, which is North East Coast. So I think, what other worlds would be reasonably close and easy to visit? I assign regions like this: - North East: Brindleton Bay, San Myshuno, Newcrest, Britechester - The South: Willow Creek, Magnolia Promenade, Forgotten Hollow - Northwest: Evergreen Harbor, Copperdale, San Sequoia - Southwest: Del Sol Valley, Oasis Springs, Strangerville -Europe: Tartosa, Windenburg, Henford-on-Bagley - Central America: Selvadorada, Ciudad Enamorada - Pacific Islands & Asia: Sulani, Mount Komorebi, Tomarang Playing with these regions in mind, it adds a challenge to my gameplay. If there's a world I want to visit, I need to set aside time in my sims schedule to actually visit it (such as requesting vacation time). Also this allows me to have long-distance relationships which can add to slow burn dynamics! Case in point, Darcy and Lopez or Caleb and Natty.

6. Let Your Sims Have Their Autonomy Back Okay, I'm guilty of micromanaging. But sometimes, it's okay to sit back and let your sims try different things. Obviously, the autonomy isn't always super logical so definitely nudge your sims in the right direction but a lot of the enjoyment of the game for me, especially when playing with families, is to leave them to their own devices. With The Fords, I primarily focus on Natty which leads to a lot of hilarious moments that wouldn't have happened if I was stressing over everyone acting perfect. For example, when Caleb came to the Ford house I had Natty make them iced tea to drink on the porch and while she was inside, Alan (her dad) came out on his own and started talking to Caleb which didn't go that well. Let your sims do what they want sometimes!

7. Most importantly, find what YOU like to do! Comparison is the thief of joy, that's totally true. What one simmer likes to do, you might hate. For me, decorating is like pulling teeth. I'll do it every once in a while, but I mostly find builds from other amazing builders. I also don't really care much for challenges and like to create stories with my sims. The point is, we all have our thing. But it's important to experiment and find what your thing is. I happen to really like the actor career, which a lot of people don't find enjoyable. So don't let others opinions impact what you have fun with. Of course, if my advice works for you then I'm happy but if not, there's no love lost. Do what makes you happy!

Well, that's all I've got. I can definitely make some follow-up posts if my tips change or I discover something new. But for now, I hope this post helps or gives you some ideas!

#sims 4 simblr #sims 4 #the sims 4 #simblr #sims #sims4 #the sims #the sims community #the sims tips #gameplay tips #sims 4 maxis match #reshade #gshade #sims 4 graphics

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mochilatae · 11 months ago

Note

stepbro jungkook coming around to be a menace again

Don't Tell (Jungkook x Fem Reader)

Word Count: 4.41k(ish)

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/n(Fem Reader)

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Unprotected sex, kissing (french and other), public sex, making out,mentions of /kinks for tattoos and piercing, teasing, grinding, slow dancing, taboo dynamics (step bro/sis), orgasms (yours and his), creampie, rough/intense sex, step bro/step sis forbidden stuff, dirty talk, praise, wall fucking, sucking (neck and lips), implied secret crush on you behavior, watching/creeping/spying stuff. Probably missed something but oh well.

Genre: PwP

AUs: Step Brother BTS/Step brother Jungkook

Summary: Your stepbrother is a brat. You barely get along but that doesn't mean you like when he shows up on a girl's night out to give you a hard time at a club. A little step sibling ribbing and rivalry goes further than anticipated.

Author’s Note: Purely an excuse to write kinky step bro smut. I liked the idea of step bro Jungkook being a menace/brat and got this suggestion from Anon (thank you and I hope you enjoy it). It's been a minute since I've caved and wrote something just flat out horny/smutty that reaches into Taboo realms.

Ignore the typos and all other oddities.

Enjoy if it's your kind of thing and you're a Jungkook stan. I enjoyed it.

Thank you for reading. If you like it and want to tell me, I'd love to hear it. Reblogging is not required but always appreciated.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @worldwideseal

It didn’t matter how long he’d been watching you. What mattered was that he finally spoke.

“This is cute… Y/n and her friends, having a girl’s night.”

You’d only just swallowed down your second shot when the haughty tone came from over your right shoulder. Turning revealed an equally gleeful smirk on familiar, lush lips.

“Jungkook.” It was all you said–more sighing it and not hiding the way your eyes rolled. You and he had never hidden much from each other–especially not when your dad had married his mom and you’d become unwilling step siblings.

He wasn’t getting less annoying as the years went by. What was previously an uneasy truce was rapidly crumbling to a simmering antagonism under the guise of sibling rivalry. Not that Jungkook was better than you. He was almost your polar opposite. As far as it went you weren’t sure what your father saw in him that they got on so well.

Right now all you could see was the glint of his lip piercing and those eyes, shining as he leveled his best smug glare at you. And right now you wished you’d taken the offer for a 3rd shot. Especially with this little brat standing nearly chest to chest.

“There’s a ton of space around here. You don’t have to stand so close.” You offered a milquetoast smile, forcing your gaze away enough to push his lithe form to the peripherals of your vision. There was PLENTY more to look at, even if it was all in the form of gyrating bodies on the dancefloor nearby.

“Maybe.” Jungkook looked around, face going from smug to vaguely disinterested. Eventually his eyes were back on you—that much was clear in the edge of your vision. It didn’t quite make your skin crawl but a prickle was working its way up your arms.

He just HAD to find a way to ruin a really nice night. But that was what siblings were prone to doing.

Jungkook snorted. You knew the sound–the light raised lip. The sneaking view of teeth and one corner of his mouth crooked. No need to look. If you did it would only serve to bother YOU more. Per the usual standard, he seemed absolutely unbothered.

“Interesting choice to hang with the girls, Y/n.” A loaded statement that you could see the trap buried deep inside. You shrugged, opting to ignore it for now. This was public and not the dinner table at home, or shoulder to shoulder with him at the kitchen sink after dinner, scrubbing up the dishes while you both sniped each other with backhanded teasing.

“It’s ladies night.” You replied. Another sound–this one a chuckle–and Jungkook reached around you, snatching a waiting drink. You’d paid for it but he wasn’t going to make good on compensation. Still you swallowed hard watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his adams apple as almost all of the glass contents disappeared down his throat. After the glass was back exactly where it’d been on the table, Jungkook turned his focus on you again.

“I was wondering. There’s a lot of people here.” His observation was dry and plain. Maybe in another time and space you would find Jungkook as hot as he acted like everyone found him, but right now you just wanted to dump the remains of that drink on his head and make him leave.

But you didn’t own the club. It was a free country. The best bet might be to leave.

“By all means..” You began,head tilting towards the front of the club and the exit doors. Jungkook’s rising brow and scoff told you he’d picked up the hint and dropped it again just as quickly.

“You’re a real peach, Y/n. What’s with the hostility? We’re not enemies.”

“We’re not friends either. We’re—”

“Family.” He finished, earning your glare. It was so hot you’d hoped he could feel it boring right through his skull. But as usual Jungkook ignored your reaction.

“We’re NEVER going to be family.” You shot back. “It’s bad enough that my dad remarried. I’m coping.”

“My mom makes him happy. Don’t be selfish by making it about you. Everyone else gets along.”

“How fortunate for them.” You sniffed and pushed the empty shot glass towards the small gathering of glasses left by your friends. Friends who’d disappeared in various directions. You were due to join most of them on the dancefloor in a minute and that was some hopeful escape.

Without missing a beat Jungkook moved on and pointed at the dancefloor.

“Yes..” You sighed. “What about it?”

“You here to drink and watch people have fun or do you dance?”

“You’re a real prick, Koo.” You gritted out, stepping away from the table. It wasn’t worth calling Jungkook out as he moved too, keeping you within reach. It was odd but not surprising at the same time. He was annoyingly close at home too.

“You’re such a sweet step sister. Answer the question.”

Your eyes rolled, head turning his way. Hopefully he saw it. Based on the even line of his lips, if he did he couldn’t care less. Jungkook had a phenomenal poker face.

“About what? …The dancing?”

“Yes.” His lids fluttered in faint annoyance but it disappeared under the club lights painting his face with a rainbow of colors.

“I can dance. As a matter of fact if you’ll excuse me—” You stepped away, going towards the dancefloor edge, where an opening was available. It was a palpable heat the closer every footstep took you towards the rabble.

And as usual Jungkook was riding your ass the whole way, but it was..whatever, thanks to the helping hum of the shot flowing through your system. The club lights swirled and slowed perceptibly as the first hints of alcohol reached your brain. A gauzy sensation slid over your senses. Annoyance ebbed away by degrees.

Instead you swayed back a little, feeling the bass flowing over you, pulsing. Riding your skin as your attention went out to those heads and the shadowy hands raised, waving and gesturing in time with the beat.

“Get your ass out there, Y/n. Or are you afraid?” Again Jungkook’s voice came from over your shoulder as he spoke right to your earlobe.

Run your mouth some more, Jungkook. Watch me get a first tonight: kicked out for fighting in a club. Screw best behavior–I’ll blame the alcohol.

Your shoulders squared. Tossing your hair back, you slipped between the bodies without a backwards look. It didn’t matter if Jungkook followed you over the line, into the dark heat of the dancefloor. He could hang out in the corner all night or he could fuck off back home. You were going to dance for YOU, not to prove anything to him.

You’d barely stopped at a big enough space near the wall and one of the floor to ceiling speakers by the DJ booth and turned to face the way you’d come. No sign of Jungkook and if he was following he’d have a challenge: the bodies closed up the path you’d used as the dancing went on.

You couldn’t help smiling and letting the sensation of the booming bass rattle inside your chest. Soon it had your hips moving and your body was doing what it did in your bedroom alone, stereo up and lights dimmed. Your spine undulated as your entire body got into the motion.

Soon the shifting of your hips had your center tingling. You loved the music and the feeling of the throbbing heat closing in all around. It would probably have you sweating soon enough but that was what the pulled back hair and short, strapless club dress was all about.

You’d chosen wisely tonight, grateful for the easy movement of your bare arms and shoulders. The flexing in your thighs unburdened by the hem at mid thigh. The dress material was flexible. Forgiving. Light and fitted.

You felt good. You moved even better, head lolling back as you turned your body slowly, eyes closed. It was you feeling the music. Running fingers through your hair and humming, even if you could only feel it in your throat, not hearing a single note over the music flooding your ears.

You’d find your friends later–right now this was your song and you needed to enjoy it for a while.

What you hadn’t seen right away was what you finally caught when your eyes opened and you ended up facing the way you’d come before. This time the crowd had parted again–just enough a figure slipped through.

You knew that shaggy head of hair and the tangle of bangs. The glint of silver in the lip. The tattoo, running from wrist up around the bicep to disappear under the sleeve of the black t-shirt.

Jungkook.

Like a fucking lost puppy. But that wasn’t what you saw in those eyes. They weren’t shining with amusement or pity. It was something more…raw. Something visceral. A strong feeling rose in your belly as your hips stalled for a moment.

Head cocked, he came closer as you grunted and turned your back. The LEAST he could do was leave you alone. There were plenty of women here and he was a single man–so far as you knew. And as far as his mom believed, an angel.

The pressure of fingers tips running the back of your arm had fresh prickles climbing your skin. Your lips parted. He didn’t seem to hear the curse you spat with a half backward glance over one shoulder.

Yes, his profile was right there. Right fucking there. AS USUAL. But the heat wasn’t cloying anymore. It was all slowly gathering somewhere low and tight. Somewhere under that dress hem. Your thigh muscles seized. Jungkook’s fingers curved over one hip and tugged, guiding your ass back into his hips.

One thing about Jungkook: he could move his body. He was athletic enough. Varsity something. Too many varsity “somethings” in high school and college– as you were privy to hear about at dinner too often.

Breath caressed your shoulder. Lips brushed as he giggled. This close you didn’t need to shout and neither did Jungkook. So you heard him loud and clear.

“What’s this? Y/n does dance. Is this what you do in your room with the door closed?”

“Go away.” You growled but didn’t pull back. Jungkook’s slow body rolling didn’t change pace or intensity, staying on beat. It kept you there as well.

“Not a denial. I’m not leaving, sis.”

“Don’t call me that.” The point of your elbow jammed into his belly only served to tighten muscle that was already visible the times you’d caught him running around outside with his shirt off. Or around the house–more often these days. No amount of teasing made him self conscious enough to add a layer.

“Hmmm.. I’m sorry.” He hummed, cloying breath going right up your nape. He followed it to pause behind your ear.

“What do you want me to call you?”

“Y/n. That’s my name. You didn’t forget that.”

“No. There’s a lot about you I can’t forget.”

“Creep..” You breathed as warmth feathered your lobe, then lips touched. Pecked. When teeth trapped and tugged you winced and shuddered. When your hand shot up towards his head, Jungkook’s quick reflexes caught your wrist and he guided it behind to rest at the small of your back. A few long fingers circled around the bone guaranteed you’d be hard pressed to try again.

“I’m faster. What were you going to do, pull my hair? Not very nice of you..”

Your chest tightened but the pounding was getting louder. Jungkook’s other palm slid up from your hip to just under your navel and pressed there. Both of you had stopped moving except for the barest sway left and right. You’d long since lost the beat. The music was a distant sound. A cover, like the sweeping club lights well overhead, none of it reaching further than your shoulders.

Any onlooker would only see Jungkook whispering. Not exactly a sight out of the ordinary for a club at this hour. If they didn’t know the relationship between you, they’d just assume it was two people feeling the music and falling into a mood together, soon to escape and do the thing most club night hookups ended in.

Which was the last thing that should happen with you and Jungkook.

You licked your lips and tried to speak. “Koo—”

“Hmmm.”

It was more affirmation fueling the option your lizard brain had turned him into. An objection was desperately trying to escape to bring sense to you both.

Fingertips curled against your skin. Although your skin was warm under the dress material his touch was even warmer as he added pressure.

“What are you doing?” You finally gasped, choking on any further words as his palm descended. His touch crept lower, wandering between your thighs and they shivered then clamped tight. Your head snapped to one side, tilted sharp. “..N…No..”

“So why aren’t you fighting me? Why do you feel so…hot? Isn’t THIS what happens in a club?”

Breath huffed in tempo as Jungkook chuckled louder. His teeth gripped a bit of skin near your jugular and let it slip free, then he sucked the spot until a wet ring remained.

He wasn’t far off. You’d done this plenty of times with handsome strangers whose acquaintance was hours old…or sometimes less. That was completely different—who Jungkook was created a huge problem being anything BUT a stranger.

Cognitive dissonance built in the form of pressure behind your eyes and at the back of your head. But it wasn’t enough to make you pull away. And Jungkook pulled you even closer. The thick heat curved along your ass was familiar. And all your insides knew were that they needed to be stuffed deep.

The name that came with it was a piddling detail. It wasn’t illegal. Morality and ethics aside.

“We’re siblings.”

“Anyone here know that?”

“Are you…serious?” You whined but your body just wasn’t cooperating. The fact was: Jungkook was just as sexy and good looking as every other man here, past or present.

And right now his arm looped your waist as he backed you both through the crowd, taking the brunt of collision as he bullied you both whatever direction only he knew. Eventually the backward traveling came to a stop and the club swirled into a blur of color and light until you found a wall against your back.

Then found Jungkook’s eyes gazing from below as he took one knee. His fingers touched your knees and climbed, taking the dress hem with it until he’d bunched it at your hips. His head bowed as he kissed the inside of one thigh, then turned his profile and nuzzled the other side.

You swallowed down a moan and your fingers dashed through his hair, snarling and grasping. Whether it was to pull him away or closer, that wasn’t clear. Right now you were just holding on for the ride. He exhaled over the center of your panties with a groan, then buried his nose and mouth there, inhaling. His shoulders shifted as the vibration of his moan moved through your sex.

“Koo…we’re—”

“Shhh.” A pinching bite cut your objection off neatly. The seam of your panties shifted as he tucked most of it to one side and traced the back of a nail along your folds. It might have been the height of scandal since Jungkook knew you–until now in unassuming and mundane ways–but it was hard to think straight and do the reasonable thing.

Instead your body followed Jungkook’s movement, pulled towards him with the magnetic energy that kept you from separating yourself and walking away. You SHOULD find your friends. You SHOULD be with them, shaking your ass and singing as you all sweated and lived your best night.

Instead you were here as Jungkook stood again and cupped the back of your neck. He paused, lips a hair’s breadth from your own. His eyes seemed so deep and full of fire–like he saw nothing wrong with this. Like you were the hottest girl here and he wanted to devour you.

“What are we doing, Y/n? We’re just two people.. Don’t you like it?”

“Yes..” You whined, chasing his tongue when it snuck out and followed your lower lip. His nails sunk into your nape and he tugged your mouth close, fitting his lips perfectly. The kiss was shy for a moment then you melted against the wall and Jungkook sank into you.

He was exactly as hard as you’d felt on your ass minutes ago, but this time he slowly rocked himself against your exposed mound. And it worked: your left foot left the floor and that knee bent. He caught the back of that knee and wrapped it over his hip.

The front of his jeans were open so fast you didn’t know when he had the time or focus while he kissed you in a way that had the world blown away–like it was you and him. In a hallway somewhere–the hallway in your house, by the front door, in the dark. Trying to keep quiet so no one in the house would wake up, come down with questions and leave with shock.

Jungkook had you feeling totally bereft of clothes and it was a brand new experience, this raw intensity. A free hand dug deep down the front of his pants. Your grip tightened on his forearm, distracted to find the thick lines of muscle there. His heat and scent curled under your nose as he broke another kiss and gulped down a mouthful of club air.

“Then don’t ask me to stop. I want to feel it…Tired of just seeing you. I want to know what you’re like inside. Lie and tell me you aren’t curious too. Can’t ignore it…been trying to. It’s..wrong but I don’t care.”

You listened to the words and melted like butter around the blunt shape gliding through your folds to open them. The air was pushed out of you just a little when Jungkook’s broad chest crushed yours. He pinned you hard into the wall. Something trickled out of you and he sucked your lower lip.

Don’t think about how wrong this is. How he’s bringing this onto us both.

But he was also right: you couldn’t deny Jungkook was an attractive guy. And he was all over you, the way you’d ached for many, MANY nights out with your girls. The way you’d hoped with every extended stare between you and strangers that hadn’t panned out.

Your eyes screwed shut so tight that sparkles showered behind your eyes. Your lungs ached, slacked lips pulling far too much air in. Waiting, anticipation burning in your cheeks.

“J..just ..please..” You wheezed.

Jungkook’s cock was thick as it sank into you. Your head reeled as the world canted dramatically. Closed eyes rolling, you choked on another gasp. Pressure filled you as his cock slid inside. The stretch was so good against your reflexive tightening, earning a deep groan from his lips. His face stayed buried deep against your throat and he pulled back slowly, then went in again. Over and over, a few times until the glide was ultra smooth–wet and seamless.

Then the pacing thrusts began. Jungkook drove into just off the beat of the music. This song was a little faster and your body bounced along, back sliding up and down the wall. The material of your dress slowly rode up with it and sweat built with the heat of your skin touching the rapidly heating club wall.

“You’re so tight..godddd..” He marveled, sounding far off and delirious but kept on, pumping without pause. Your heel climbed up the back of Jungkook’s thigh and your calf tightened over the round of his ass.

His lips touched your chin and his hips rammed harder. The fireworks show filling the black of your closed eyes changed colors as pleasure began to build in your stomach, then lower. The pressure was so good. And the impact was adding a bite of stimulation right to your clit.

You hadn’t asked much about Jungkook’s private life. You hadn’t seen him coming home with anyone or around town with a girl. He never seemed to talk about it. But maybe that was why he was so hungry now, pushing into you like he’d been suffering a long sex drought.

Your head went airy and your chest burned as you drew in another deep breath. Nails sinking into Jungkook’s shoulder through the shirt didn’t seem to make a dent in his focus. He went on and on, unabated until you almost fainted in the rush of an orgasm. The aperture of your vision shrank, leaving a pin point of strobe right over Jungkook’s head that provided just one solitary focal point. The high blew through you. Walls and thighs clenched Jungkook’s girth.

Let god strike you and down and the devil laughingly take your soul, this felt so good your soul might depart your body as skin sang.

As you milked his cock, Jungkook’s lips bruised yours with a shaking kiss. It was as if he was trying to climb up the wall or push you through it–either one you didn’t care, off in your own world far beyond the roof of the club or the stars in the sky. A moan of climax left his lips as Jungkook’s tongue brushed across your lips. He gave a full body jerk, pulsing deep inside. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was happening. You’d paid enough attention in sex ed to know exactly how dumb you were both being, among other things in this moment.

Jungkook’s orgasm ended just as yours faded into a few lingering twitches. Carefully he released your knee and you planted that foot on the ground. He eased back and gave you enough space, watching as you panted, brushing hands over your thighs and wanting to shrivel at the slickness running down the insides. Instead of doing anything to diminish it, you tugged the dress back down and said a prayer.

While you swept fingers along your hair and smooth the frazzled strands down with gathered beads of sweat, he redid his jeans, zipped, buttoned, then flashed a fucked out grin. The whites of his teeth were almost electric under the black lights overhead.

That meant anything of a certain color would show too–like giant arrows pointing right to your whorish behavior. You started to sweat again for more serious and socially disastrous reasons but Jungkook’s brows furrowed when he noticed.

Again he came close. “What is it? No one saw.”

You scoffed, head still spinning furiously. You took his forearm when offered and he backed through the space you had, making a way for you two to head towards a dancefloor exit. Not the same direction you’d come, at least. Every step you could feel a little more fluid tickling as it dribbled inches more down your skin.

“You’re asking me that… Were you not just there?” He was being dense on purpose, maybe. Or he was as spun out as you probably looked. Jungkook stopped at the opening leading to a dark hall as you spied the glowing sign with male and female symbols just overhead.

Well at least he was doing a smart thing: the bathroom. Privacy enough and the means to clean up–as much as it mattered. But that also left other problems: your friends.

“Jungkook…” As he walked you held his wrist. He didn’t look back, paused at the Women’s bathroom door. One palm pressed the dark wood and he glanced over.

“Hmm?”

“...What about them?” He had to know. Jungkook was no dummy–he had common sense, even if he’d parted from it tonight for a bit. Wearing fresh anxiety all over every feature, here in the yolky hallway light without the blessing of shadows and denial, there was no mistaking the rising panic in your eyes. How the fuck would you being to explain or lie to a group of people all agreed that you were the worst liar among them all?

Jungkook’s brow rose, then he glanced back to the end of the hall, out where the rest of the club was still alive and steaming through another song. Voices, laughter and reality was back there. You weren’t ready for any of it, legs still watery and head still foggy from the endorphins swilling through your blood.

He offered a thin smile,pushed the door faintly and nodded into the gap.

“What about them?” You growled and he relaxed with a bigger smile, pushing the door open a bit more. “...They don’t know I’m here. I’ll leave first..if that’s okay?”

“Jesus..” You sighed. “...It’ll have to do. We…we can’t talk about this. Like…EVER. Not to them OR anyone else.” Anyone including your parents. This was such a pinnacle and low moment of the most scandalous situation you’d ever been in.

“What should I tell your dad if he asks?” You didn’t know why Jungkook was asking this. Your dad was never one to be in your business, especially if it was a girl’s night. You were legal age by a couple years and independent. You might still live at home but you paid rent and held down a job. Your dad seemed good with assuming you could handle yourself. That status quo would do just fine for you too.

“He won’t…”

“But–”

“He WON’T.” You reiterated with eyes narrowed. That earned a playful smirk from Jungkook, the piercing on his lip suddenly shining so clearly it was almost the only thing you could focus on. You HAD to get it together and go home, not making it obvious that anything had happened between you and your step brother.

Even if you liked it. God help you… the urge for more was also buried deep down. But you ignored it in favor of disappearing through the open door. Jungkook’s hand slid down as he let the door close almost entirely. You heard his words before the world was closed away.

“You’re kind of a bad girl, Y/n. You keep it up and I might have to blow your cover.”

#reader x jeon jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #you and jungkook #reader x jjk #jjk smut #jjk stepbro #koo and yn #koo and y/n #koo x yn #koo x y/n #koo x reader #reader x jungkook

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jamneuromain · 2 years ago

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Hey honey! I'm loving your bingo challenge<3

So I want to send in a request for Steve Rogers for the prompt 'ugly duckling'

So basically Steve meeting readers family and friends, and the running joke is how reader bagged an Greek god looking man like him despite being not so pretty. He soon understands why reader was first hesitant and a bit surprised when he asked them out. But Steve takes a stand for them in front of everyone and call them out on their behaviour and all the fluff! Please feel free to change anything you like or ignore the request if it's not worth it! Thank you so much! I love your fics💙

Hi hon <3

I feel so much about the "ugly duckling" so I added a little bit of "horrible family actions" that I've seen. I hope you'll enjoy this!

Make an Impression

Steve Rogers x You

Warning: Ugly Duckling, shaming from all aspects, bad language word(?)

Summary: Steve was nervous about meeting your family - your larger family, that is.

A/N: My eighth entry to the bingo challenge hosted by @the-slumberparty.

"What if they don't like me?" Steve whispered in horror as he looked at himself in the mirror.

"They will love you." You stood on the tip of your toes and kissed his cheek, "Seriously, my mom thought I'd be single for life. So she is already way beyond happy that I'd be taking someone home for this traditional festival."

Steve mumbled a "yeah", before turning to you, "I really want to make a good impression." He almost knotted his brows into a bun, "Any tips on how to be the best boyfriend?"

"You are the best boyfriend there is." You help flipping his collar in place. He was so nervous about meeting your family that he tried on five different ties for over a dozen times, leaving his collar a mess, "You'd be helping out... I think. And you definitely do not need a tie to suffocate yourself when you're helping out. They will love you." You emphasized the idea that your family would welcome him one more time, shrugging, "Just try not to answer any questions when my aunties and my grandma ask you about 'when are we having kids'."

"Kids?" Unfiltered panic filled his eyes.

"Um-hmm." You fiddled with the hem of his shirt, tucking it in place, "I know, we aren't even planning anything yet. Still, they love to do that. They'd be scheming when we're having our fifth kid with or without our help."

Steve swears he is sweating like a fountain.

"Smile. Tell them we're enjoying our solidarity. And you will be fine." You threw him a sympathetic look, "Tell them about your military stories. That would distract them enough."

You hoped your boyfriend would survive under your ruthless (or so you believe) aunties.

"C'mon. Mom said we should be there by 11 to help her cook lunch." You kissed his cheek again, "You'll do fine."

"Not quite sure about that." Steve muttered. If confidence could be measured from 1 to 10, he'd be negative a hundred by now.

You thought your aunties - your father's sisters - would be hogging Steve until he was going to have a panic attack, asking about your relationship or about his family three generations ago. But within an hour, you heard that he was able to make all of your aunties laugh with joy by telling some interesting stories in the barracks, while your mother kept you in the kitchen to help her around.

Help with cleaning. Not cooking.

After an hour and a half, your grandmother pulled an ancient photo book out of nowhere and started to show him your baby photos.

With pots of traditional dishes simmering over the stove, you were finally able to get a break from your mother's accusations of "not practicing homemaking" and escape to your boyfriend.

At which point, the photo album was only about one-quarter through, and your aunties had just started the chapter where you were 4 or 5.

"...now this." Your grandma chuckled and shook her head, "This was precious. She has always been the not-so-good-looking one among my grandkids. Hasn't changed about that. See her skin? And the hair? Her cousins tried almost everything to help her look better."

Yes. By "help" she meant that your cousins, who were not that older than you, shoved you around like a doll, pinning all their least-favorite hair bands and hair pins onto your head, and giving you ridiculous "make-overs".

The kind of "make-over" some 6-year-olds could achieve.

While your male cousins ignored you.

Some of them still did.

You didn't mind.

Your family isn't exactly the tightest bun in the world. You tried avoiding them until important family-gathering activities such as this one. Because they would criticize everything from your clothing to your work. And probably also tell your boyfriend that you are not that good.

"And what are you wearing?" One of your aunties eyed you disapprovingly, gasping as if she had just seen you. Even though you have been helping cleaning and cooking for at least sixty minutes, "Sweetie, your ass is going to rip your jeans. Why not sportspants? They are definitely more comfy. Could help cover your thick thighs too. Honestly, how you are able to date... him-" She gestured at Steve, "is baffling."

"That hair..." Another auntie tutted as loud as she could, "So messy, my dear. Have you tried conditioner? My boy brought back a bottle of L'OREAL conditioner from Paris and it has been working wonders. "

Third auntie chirped up helpfully, "Must have been that awful job, cutie pie. I told you that you should be working closer to home, not driving three hours to see your family. That incompetent husband of mine recently opened up a factory and we'd be happy to arrange a desk job for you. Smaller pay, but closer to home. What could a ton of money do anyway if you can't see your family every week-"

That's enough bullshit for you for a day. You'd rather drown yourself with mud than listen to them criticize from head to toe.

"I think that's my phone." You forced a smile, getting up as fast as you could, "I'm gonna go check."

"See, I told you a busy job can do you no good..." One of your aunties yelled behind your back, before gossiping in a low voice with others.

What you didn't see (or hear, for that matter) is that Steve apologized swiftly, leaving the couch and following you.

Eight months ago

Steve accompanied Bucky to his graduation ceremony that day. Being around the same age, they chose a path in the military at the start, though Bucky had a severe injury to his left arm and had to leave the sergeant program after only a few months. After some rehabilitation and trying a handful of jobs, Bucky decided to head back to university and study criminal law in order to become a police officer, or a district attorney if he's not fit for police work anymore.

Steve, on the other hand, was luckier. He stayed in the sergeant program and got assigned to the States right before Bucky's graduation. After three tours and a surgery to collect bomb shells from his leg, the Army decided he could be a drill sergeant on the New Jersey Base, responsible for training new recruits before shipping them overseas.

Anyhow, Steve pulled Bucky into a big hug when the ceremony was over. He whistled and nearly clapped his hand numb as Bucky beamed at him in a black graduate gown.

"I guess I'm the smarter one of us now." Bucky smiled coyly, punching Steve in the chest, "And the luckier one too." As he fished a cute girl in gown by her wrist and introduced her, "This is my girlfriend Wendy. Wendy Stone. Wendy, Steve."

She reached out shyly to shake his hand, "Hi Steve. I've heard a lot about you."

And as if Bucky was the magnet, attaching people like coins in a line, you slipped through the crowd patting Wendy on her shoulder, "Your phone. You almost forgot - Hi Bucky, I'll be out of your hair in a minute."

Bucky's palm flew to his forehead, gasping out in shock, "Damn. I haven't introduced you two yet. Steve, this is Y/N, Wendy's cousin. Y/N, this is my best pal Steve."

Five months ago

You had hung out with Steve a couple of times, but only in the presence of Bucky and Wendy. Wendy and you shared the same apartment, so it was nearly inevitable for Steve to bump into you when looking for Bucky, or Bucky asking both of you to join Game Night for you four to know each other well.

Steve grew fonder of you, nonetheless. He loves the laughter whenever you hear a silly joke; he loves the way you make a face to him whenever Bucky and Wendy getting all gooey and clingy, making both of you feel like the third and fourth wheel; he loves your optimistic and can-do attitude, whether it was Wendy having a bad day at work, or when the pipe burst in your apartment.

Before he opened his mouth that day, sharing a pot of coffee with Bucky during the quiet morning of a Sunday. Bucky cut him off, saying Steve's line, "You should ask her out."

"You think I should?" He gulped nervously, counting the larger bubbles on his coffee.

"Dude, why do you think I've asked you on these game nights stuff?" Bucky snorted into his mug, "You practically glued your eyes to her the day you met. It's hard not to notice."

"Thanks...?"

"Don't thank me yet, punk. I've asked Wendy about her. She's one tough-" Bucky paused before continuing, mulling over the semantics, "Is it degrading to say son-of-a-bitch? Because Wendy said the exact same words. Anyway, according to Wendy, she doesn't really date a lot. And her work is crazy as hell. Plus, they came from the same family, cousins from their mother's side. They are a hard-to-please bunch of people, and Wendy heard that her father's side was even worse."

Steve didn't really take the last line into consideration back then. Still, asking you out was one hell of a mission, worse than the tour he had in the middle of some desert. It took some persuasion and some more coaxing ("good-measured coaxing", Bucky insisted) to get you on the first three dates. But from that point forth, everything has run smoothly, until now.

"You alright?" Steve closed the door behind him. Your tiny room seems smaller with his broad shoulders larger than the door frame.

"Yeah." That's a lie. "Another few hours and we'll be left alone." You swept away the invisible dust on your jeans, murmuring.

That's why you don't like your relatives. The smell of grease and tobacco rose from the backyard where the men were drinking and smoking, more revolting than the way you remembered.

Steve pursed his lips tightly into a line, "Are they always like this?"

You huffed out an unamused laugh, "At least we were related. You should have seen how they treated my mom."

"That's why she's in the kitchen?"

An unimpressed glare threw in his direction, "She enjoyed that, believe it or not. Cooking and cleaning and homemaking." Raising your chin towards the kitchen, "Blamed me about 'not doing my part' just now."

"Why don't you-"

"Stand up against them?" You knew what he meant. You did. You tried. But they would always accuse your mother of not "teaching you properly".

"They are bullies, Steve." You shrugged, pretending that it didn't bother you at all, "They'd do anything to make sure we get all those nasty comments. And the moment any one of us stand up against them, they'd ask my parents to force me to apologize."

Steve crossed his arms, furrowing his brows again.

"Look, my mom is ... old-school. So are all of them. She nags a lot but she'd be sad if I'm not here to support her during this family reunion. But reunion means all of them, so..." You held his wrist, resting your head on his shoulder, "family comes first."

He took you into his arms, landing a kiss on your forehead.

You craned your neck to smile sweetly at him, as if nothing had happened, "Let's get back to the living room before they mock me for being a baby about it."

Surprisingly, for one full hour, they weren't able to make a comment about you - plenty of comments about Steve since your three cousins had arrived. More comments about your cousins. Gossips about their neighbors. Judgements thrown around on their men and your mother's cooking.

"... your daughter better have clarity on herself." Your grandmother pointed at your mother, drunk on her third cup of wine, her words slurring, "Steven....s Steve, here, is way out of her league. And she needs to maaaarry him before some s... ska... skank butts in."

Your mother eyed you, mouthing silently, asking you to eat rather than reply, before coming up with a polite smile, "Of course. But young people have their own opinions on marriage, and I suppose it's only fair that they figure it out themselves."

One of your aunts waved her fork too hard, sending a piece of chicken into the air, "Oops. Ma's right. And you need to have a kid soon, sweetie. Marry him, and have a kid. Your body is a ticking clock. Don't turn deaf towards it."

"I'm surprised you were able to get a boyfriend, let alone... this." Another aunt gestured at Steve, "You've never been the pretty one, cutie pie, and you sure ain't now."

You put your hand on Steve's thigh to calm him. You could feel his muscles tensing and his jaw clenching, not so subtly. You shook your head lightly.

Don't give them what they want. You hoped you were able to convey the message.

"Oh my oh my," the last aunt chuckled, "we are not going to witness some cheesy scheme of renting a boyfriend here, are we? I heard from my daughter Jean that it's quite popular these days. You know, it's not that embarrassing not to have a boyfriend, I mean, we all thought that way-"

Jean, being one of your cousins sitting by the table, chose to munch her food in silence rather than responding to your aunt.

"That's enough." Steve placed his napkin on the table, folded it back into a triangle before he spoke, "All of you." His rigid tone from the military days seeped into his voice, having the conversations on the table stop for the moment. Taking your hand beneath the table, he watched every person on the table with a serious expression, "Our relationship is none of your business, and so is her appearance. I see a beautiful, strong, independent woman, and I pity you for none of you were able to see her the way I do. Because you were so focused on yourselves, comparing everything about you to make you feel less pathetic. "

A brief pause.

"You didn't say anything about your daughter owning a clothing store, inherited from you, that barely gets by." He looked at the aunt who called you "fat".

"No one said anything about your son stuffing potato chips in his mouth and being unemployed, still taking expensive trips with your pension, because he's the son in the family." He points at the aunt who called you "cheap".

"And finally, you know damn well that husband of yours is having his third secretary-mistress. Since that's all the rest of you could hint about this afternoon." He directed at the aunt who thought you weren't "homemaker" enough.

"I hope you'll have the day you deserve." He spat out, standing from the table, asking for your hand.

For the first time today, your eyes sparkled with light. Gladly taking his hand, your rose from the table. Not minding if you have shoved your chair backwards too hard or the sudden movement is not "lady" enough.

"Mom, I'll come visit next week. Promise." A big smile raised the corner of your lips, waving your mother goodbye while the rest of the table watched in silence.

You still had trouble believing this when you got in your car. Steve immediately pulled you into a hug, nudging your neck with his cheek.

"Not so scared about 'impressing' my family now, huh?" You joked, tugging the end of his blonde hair lightly.

"They're going to hate me and you after I dumped every scandal on them." He mumbled apologetically, "Sorry, I hate bullies."

"No." You signed, "I should've be braver and just ... cut them off."

"You did the best you could." He kissed your shoulder gently, looking into your eyes, "You are everything I've dreamed of, and I meant everything I said at the dining table. You are incredible."

"Hold your proposal, Rogers." You teased him, seeing his ears turn into beet-red as you mentioned "proposal", poking his chest with your index finger, "You aren't on your knees yet and I'm not having five babies without five carats."

Steve's face flushed with a shade of pink, looking like a total turnip if it wasn't for his blonde hair. "Five babies???" He gulped, and then, "Does that mean we're having ten babies if I buy a ten-carat now?"

It was your turn to be stunned speechless. Only when he was grinning madly did you realize he was messing with you too. Laughing with tears, you fell into his embrace, "Steven Grant Rogers, you are a horrible person."

A few laughs bubbled from his chest as you leaned back in your seat and buckled your seat belt, "You'll get used to it." He started the engine and changed the subject, "I didn't have much food in your house. Mind if we stop by at the new Burger joint and order something?"

"I almost forgot how awful my mom's cooking is." You set your phone on navigation mode and put it on Bluetooth speaker, chuckling, "I'm starving. Let's go."

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