#let's get on our bikes and boldly go | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xjoonchildx · 4 years ago

Text

snapshot | jhs x reader

summary: after a day at the beach, hoseok has some surprises in store for his longtime love

pairing: hoseok x reader

genre: fluff, smut, fluff OH MY GOD SO MUCH FLUFF y'all i apologize

word count: 4.7K

notes: this fic is a commission fic for the lovely @wwilloww as part of the @armyadvocates fundraising initiative to stop hate crimes against AAPI. miss willow asked for an old house, candles and soft smut as well as a mystery box. i did my best to deliver on all counts because willow is amazing and deserves all good things.

thanks go to @hobi-gif @ladyartemesia and @btsarmy9593 for beta reading parts of this story, thanks so much for keeping me on track ladies! a very special shoutout to @sahmfanficbts who helped me come up with a very *key* part of this plot.

warnings: no one dies? no one is in danger of dying? who am i? standard smut, unprotected sex. liberal sunscreen use. low air quality due to paint fumes and sawdust. references to yoongi, who we can assume is cranky offscreen, references to @untaemedqueen first suggestion of what was in the box.

Warm.

Hoseok is so warm right now, inside and out. He stretches his long body out on the length of his beach lounger, enjoying the feeling of the sun beating down on his skin. His buzz is mellow and pleasant. He lets his eyes drift shut, lulled into a lazy calm by the sounds he can hear all around him.

The steady lap of the waves against the shore. Kids laughing as they run around on the sand. Off in the distance, a bluetooth speaker thumps out a song that’s too far away for him to recognize. And after a few minutes, another sound.

Your bright laughter, carried to him on the breeze.

God, he loves that sound.

“You are such a lightweight,” you tease. Hoseok can hear the smile in your voice. “Two beers and you pass out on me.”

He cracks one eye open to find you standing beside his lounger. The early evening sunlight streams through the strands of your dark hair and warms your bronzed skin, bathing you in a kind of golden halo. He gazes up at you, languid and content.

“I’m not passed out,” he argues with a slow grin. “I’m relaxing. Come relax with me.”

Hoseok doesn’t give you a chance to accept his offer, leaning up to grab your hand and pull you down into the narrow space beside him. You laugh when he wraps his arms and legs around you like a starfish, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I’m just enjoying the perfect day,” he murmurs, nosing at the back of your ear, “With my perfect girl.”

“Flatterer.”

Hoseok can’t see you rolling your eyes, but he knows you’re doing it anyway. Just like he can’t see the way you flush and he knows you’re doing that, too.

“We should eat,” you say after a while, shivering when he strokes the pads of his fingers up the soft skin of one bare leg. “Grab something before we have to take the bikes back.”

Hoseok hums under his breath as he slides his palm up the curve of your thigh, boldly searching for trouble under the hem of your sundress. You bat his hand away and he laughs, hugging you tighter.

“Alright,” he agrees in a whisper, ghosting his lips down the nape of your neck. You jolt in his arms when he sinks his teeth into the curve of your shoulder, nipping playfully. “Just a quick bite.”

There’s not much difference between a sundress and a négligée is there?

Certainly not from where Hoseok is sitting, anyway.

He studies you as he rides close behind, watching the way your hair whips in the breeze as you pedal. One delicate sundress strap slips down your sun-warmed shoulder, exposing just a bit more of your back. Then the wind grabs a hold of your sheer skirt, lifting it just long enough for Hoseok to get a glimpse of the pretty white panties underneath.

God, he loves those panties.

Could stare at them all day, really.

But instead he forces himself to pedal faster and take the lead, grinning when you take note of his advance and glare. It’s for the best because while you think this is just some meandering evening ride, he’s the only one who knows where you’re really headed. For the best because if he falls off his bike and breaks his face because he’s too busy staring at your ass, the entire night will be ruined before it has the chance to start.

It’s quiet on this street just a few blocks from the shore.

Dolmeori Beach is rockier, more wooded than the beaches preferred by most tourists and that’s always suited Hoseok just fine. When he was a kid, he’d steal away when the weather was warm and hop the train here from Gwangju any chance he got.

It’s always felt like his place, his personal piece of sea and sand.

Pine trees loom high over the pavement, canopies so dense they block out much of the waning sunlight streaming down from above. The shade beneath the leaves makes the heat bearable, but it also makes it hard to judge the time. Hoseok steals a quick look at his watch.

Right on schedule. He hopes Yoongi followed his instructions to the letter.

“Hurry up, slowpoke,” he teases over his shoulder, and he chuckles at the sound of frustration you make as you pedal faster to catch up. It takes a few seconds for you to coast into position at his side.

“You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you fuss, “Wanna clue me in?”

Hoseok turns his head to smile at you, sly like a fox.

“You’ll find out when we get there.”

The realtor had said the place would need a little love.

Turns out, it needs a lot more than a little. But Hoseok was able to see right past the weathered wooden porch and salt air-worn paint right away. When he found this place online, he knew it was the one.

He slows his bike to a stop as the two of you make your approach, taking note of the warm light that glows just behind the frosted glass pane in the front door. Looks like Yoongi came through.

“What is this place?” you ask, skidding to a stop beside him. You stand over your bike on tiptoes as you survey the house, brow knit in confusion.

“It’s a surprise,” Hoseok grins, hopping off his bike. He shoves the kickstand into place and offers you his hand, which you accept with a suspicious smile. “Wanna go in?”

“Yeah sure,” you shrug. “We’ve probably already stolen these bikes. What’s a little breaking and entering on top of that?”

Hoseok laughs, leading the way to the front door.

He cringes when the porch floorboards creak loudly beneath his feet, making a mental note to put that project next on his to-do list. You stand with arms crossed, watching silently as he crouches down to lift the mat at the front door, fingers feeling beneath for the concealed key.

You stop him with fingers wrapped around his forearm when he gets to his feet.

“Wait,” you whisper frantically. “We can’t just walk into someone’s house, Hoseok.”

He chuckles before leaning down to kiss the adorable confusion right off your face. Then he slides his key into the lock and pushes the door wide open.

“Not someone’s house,” he corrects, watching you peer skeptically inside.

You step slowly through the threshold and scan the candle-lit front room before turning to him with wide eyes.

“Our house.”

“You bought a beach house.”

It’s the third time you’ve said it by now, and not once has the hushed observation been directed at Hoseok. You said it when you brushed your fingertips over the freshly-dried spackle on the living room wall, said it again as you passed your hand over the base coat of stain on the mantle over the fireplace.

You say it again as you turn to him, jaw slack with disbelief.

“You bought a beach house.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok admits sheepishly, uncertain of your reaction. He tries to see the room the way you must see it now, candles and tools scattered across the tables, floors covered in drop cloths, cans of paint and plaster stacked up in the corners.

Yoongi had done a decent job of clearing up most of the clutter before he left, but judging by the astonishment on your face, he’s probably been romanticizing the mess in here.

He’d really hoped to have a lot more done the first time he brought you here, but he’s learned the hard way that some home renovation projects don’t go as smoothly in real life as they do on YouTube. The process has been a bit of trial and error, with a lot more error than he’d originally counted on.

“I know it doesn’t look like a whole lot right now,” he says, rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, “But it’s going to look great when I’m done. Yoongi helped me sand all week.”

You shake your head like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Oh my god Hoseok, no -- ” you vow with a shaky laugh, “ -- no, this is incredible. This is amazing. I’m in shock.”

“Yeah?” Hoseok grins, relief melting over him. “I wanted it to be a surprise. I wanted -- ”

“ -- Wait,�� you interrupt, one brow quirked high as you step closer. “You said… you said something important. You said this was our house.”

“Did I?”

You narrow your dark eyes at him and he chuckles uncomfortably, nerves kicking in for the first time tonight. The feeling -- and the occasion both call for more booze. Which he’s prepared for.

“Are you going to give me a tour?” you ask.

“Later,” he says. “After.”

“After what, Hoseok? You’re killing me slowly with all this suspense.”

“Hang out here for a second,” he instructs, ducking into the small kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

It takes him no time at all to find the bottle of Moet he’s stashed in the fridge and the clean champagne flutes tucked away into the corner of his dutifully-dusted kitchen cabinet. He double-checks the contents of the box on the counter, making sure everything is in place.

Then he takes a deep breath.

Your brows lift in surprise when he walks back into the room with that box in his hands. You watch him set it down on the floor, saying nothing when he turns back to retrieve the champagne and glasses.

When he finally returns, you’re on your knees -- examining the package. Lips pursed thoughtfully as you press your fingers to the gold flecks on the fabric lid.

“Hoseok,” you whisper, flicking your gaze up to find his. “I have so many questions right now.”

You look so damned beautiful in this candlelight -- like you brought your golden glow from the beach indoors. Like you absorbed the sun’s rays and you’re emitting them now like some kind of superpower.

“Have a drink with me,” he murmurs, “And I’ll answer them.”

Something in the room shifts then; the temperature changes. The silly fun of the afternoon evaporates, leaving behind something heavy and heady. Hoseok knows you feel it too, when your half-smile slowly drops and you pull your lower lip between your teeth.

“Okay,” you agree softly, “Let’s have a drink.”

You watch him with those focused dark eyes as he pops the champagne. The drink bubbles over the lip of both flutes as he pours, on account of his haste and shaky hands. Then you take one of the glasses in hand and offer him the other, which he quickly accepts.

“To this surprise housewarming,” you declare, raising your flute for a toast.

Hoseok clinks his glass against yours, taking note of the way you watch him carefully over the lip of your glass as you’re tilting back the flute to take a sip. He decides he can’t keep you -- or himself -- in suspense any longer.

“You know how special you are to me, right?”

You make a face.

“Did you bring me to your new house to break up with me?”

Hoseok’s startled laugh turns into a cough and tears prick his eyes as champagne bubbles blaze a path up his sinuses.

“Yes,” he says dryly, once he’s managed to collect himself. “I figured dumping you by candlelight sounded like the most romantic option.”

You tip your head back when you laugh, light playing off the curve of your neck, your collarbones, the tiny gold pendant that sits in the pretty dip at the base of your throat.

God, he loves your skin.

Hoseok looks at you long and hard before lifting his flute to take a long drink.

“This is for you,” he says quietly, acknowledging the box out loud for the first time.

“What’s in it?”

“A human head,” Hoseok snorts, flinching when you reach over to pinch his leg. “Don’t be a pain. Just open it.”

Your eyes light with excitement as you smooth your hands over the lid and Hoseok can’t help but smile. But your excitement turns into confusion the moment you open the box and find the neat row of plain white envelopes inside.

“What is this?”

“Quit asking me questions,” Hoseok deadpans, pouring himself another drink. He tops off your glass, too. “And start at the front.”

You shake your head with a wry smile as you work the first envelope open, slipping your fingers in between the paper folds to fish out the contents inside. Hoseok sips his champagne as you produce the polaroid photo, head cocked to the side as you study it.

It was cold that day, he remembers that. You’d been bundled up in a pretty scarf and matching belted coat. In the photo, the mid-morning sun flares behind you, illuminating your profile as you squint up at a display of laminated menus.

“This is me,” you murmur, mouth quirking into a disbelieving smile, “At the coffee truck outside of work.”

“Yup.”

“We’d just started dating.”

“Yup.”

“How did you take this without me noticing?”

“Easy,” Hoseok laughs. “You stared at that menu for five minutes straight. I’ve never seen someone take coffee selection so seriously. Thought you were gonna order the most complicated drink in history.”

You roll your eyes but you laugh. So does he.

“Turn it over.”

You flip the polaroid over in your hands, eyes moving over the neat block handwriting on the back.

coolest girl i ever met

“This is the day I knew I liked you,” Hoseok murmurs, “Like, really liked you.”

Your eyes are a bit glassy when you look up at him now, the corner of your mouth tugging into a soft smile.

“You were that sure that fast, huh?” “Yeah,” he admits, scratching self-consciously at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I was.”

You move onto the next envelope, this time prepared when you pull out yet another polaroid picture. This one is harder to place, taken in the dark, mostly black but for a few splashes of vivid light.

“I don’t know this one,” you frown, ghosting your finger across one particularly colorful blur of red and gold. “I can’t make it out.”

You turn the polaroid over, looking once again for Hoseok’s neat block letters.

she’s into me

You laugh out loud.

“That was the lantern festival in Cheonggyecheon,” Hoseok explains. “I’d invited you, but you’d had plans, remember? And I was just going to get Yoongi to go with me but you called me last minute to say you’d decided to come.”

“I remember,” you say with a smile. “Yeri invited me to a movie, but I cancelled on her. I wanted to hang out with you instead.”

“Yeah, well that’s the night I knew you really liked me.”

“Cocky,” you smirk, reaching for another envelope. “But warranted.”

Your eyes light with recognition the moment you pull the next picture out. You’re crouched down at the edge of his mother’s koi pond, one finger making ripples on the surface of the water.

“First time we ever went to Gwangju together,” you muse quietly. “First time I met your parents.”

You flip the polaroid over.

pretty sure my mom loves her more than she loves me

“Okay, this might actually be true,” you tease, taking a sip of your champagne. “Your mom and dad love me.”

“Yeah, well that was the day I decided I loved you, too,” Hoseok chuckles. “The point where I kind of knew there was no turning back.”

You look up from the photograph then, eyes glassy with emotion when they find his. Candlelight flickering across your face as you look at him fondly.

“You still feel that way?”

“Hell yeah, I do,” he laughs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “Keep going.”

The next polaroid is a selfie of Hoseok in bed but it’s by no means sexual. There are dark circles under his eyes and his skin has a sallow tint. Next to his pillow, the bedside table is littered with cold medicine and empty cups.

“Is this when you had the flu?” you ask, flipping the polaroid over. The neat block lettering on the back confirms your theory.

she took care of me

“You were so pitiful,” you laugh, shaking your head at the memory. “Wrapped up in your blankets like a burrito. I swear, men have zero tolerance for discomfort.”

“I nearly died,” Hoseok protests dramatically. “But you dropped everything to come take care of me. That’s the day I knew you loved me, too.”

Your smile is brilliant now, open and sweet as you reach for the last remaining envelope. Hoseok takes another swig of champagne, slugging it down as you pull out the polaroid and study the image.

You are wearing your delicate sundress, leaned up against the wooden railing that separates the sand and rocks. Standing just next to your bike, nose in the air as you breathe in the salt carried on the wind.

“This is today,” you murmur, brows knitting together when you flip the picture over and find the back side blank. “And you haven’t written anything here.”

“Yeah, well,” Hoseok starts and stops, clearing his throat. “I haven’t had a chance to write it in yet.”

“Oh.”

“That’s the day I asked you to marry me.”

“Oh.”

You blink. Once, then again. Hoseok can hear the shaky breath you take in when your mouth parts in surprise. He sets his champagne flute down, sufficiently bolstered by the booze.

“So that’s what I’m doing right now. I’m asking you to marry me.”

You’re still mute with shock, eyes wide as they go from Hoseok to the picture and back to Hoseok again.

“But uh, the longer you don’t say anything, the less confident I feel about this entire plan,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You take him off balance when you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and your thighs around his waist. He keeps you both from toppling over with a palm flat to the floor, laughing as you pepper his face with kisses.

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes,” you sigh, pressing your lips to his temple, his neck, his jaw. “Yes. To you and to these amazing pictures and to this beach house. Yes to all of it.”

You pull away from him to grab the champagne, eyes flashing mischievously as you take a drink straight from the bottle. “Yes to champagne, too.”

Hoseok feigns shock. “Naughty.”

You kiss him deeply then, thoroughly, enough for him to feel the remnants of the carbonation on your tongue. You tease him with a barely there roll of your hips and his cock responds instantaneously, at the mercy of the warm friction he can feel straight through the thin material of his board shorts.

“You know what I’m thinking?” you murmur against his mouth.

“I think I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah,” Hoseok chuckles, sucking a breath between his teeth when you bite the skin just below his ear.

“We have a lot to celebrate, right?” you reason, tone light. “But we came here for a housewarming.”

You lean back just far enough to pull your sundress over your head, tossing it carelessly aside, leaving you in nothing but those pretty white panties he loves so much.

“So we should warm it.”

Hoseok grins, pulling the champagne bottle out of your grip. He turns it up just like you did, finishing what’s left before setting it back down.

“I like the way you think.”

The only bedroom in this house is buried beneath a two-inch thick layer of sawdust right now.

Not that making it to a bedroom seems high on your list of priorities.

The fact that you’re both sitting on top of a drop cloth on Hoseok’s living room floor isn’t stopping you from threading your fingers into his hair, slipping your tongue into his mouth, grinding against his lap.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” you laugh, pressing your bare breasts to his chest once he’s managed to untangle himself from your limbs long enough to shrug out of his shirt. Your pebbled nipples drag across the lithe planes of his chest and his cock jumps in his shorts.

“Clever.”

“That’s me,” Hoseok murmurs against your lips, deft fingers slipping beneath the damp cotton between your thighs. He slides the pad of one long finger across your wet slit and you gasp, rocking against it.

“Gotta get you out of these panties,” he laments, pulling one nipple into his mouth and working it with his teeth. You shudder in his hold. “Quick.”

“What are you in such a hurry for?” you tease, circling your hips to chase the perfect pressure of his fingertips. “We have all night.”

“We have about three more minutes if you keep grinding on me like this,” Hoseok laughs, shifting your bodies to lean you back onto the floor. “So give me a break because I want to enjoy this.”

You lie back for him dutifully, dark hair spilling onto the drop cloth around you, skin gleaming in the candlelight. Your gold pendant twinkles at the base of your neck.

God, he loves the way you look like this.

Flushed with excitement and anticipation. Like a feast laid out just for him. He rids himself of those pesky board shorts as fast as he can, leaning over you on hands and knees.

“You’re gonna marry me,” he muses, burying his face into the soft skin under your jaw. “You already said yes, can’t take it back now.”

Your laughter is echoing in his ears as he trails hot, open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your neck, across the bronzed planes of your shoulder. He can taste the day on your skin; the ocean salt and sunscreen mixed with that flavor that’s so uniquely you.

“I don’t want to take it back,” you sigh, whimpering when Hoseok kisses a path down the velvety skin between your breasts. He travels lower, kissing just below your bellybutton as he starts working your panties off with one hand. “I’m gonna keep you.”

Hoseok chuckles as he tosses your panties away, off to somewhere unimportant. What’s important is the way you take a deep breath and hold it when his mouth hovers coyly over your cunt.

“Look at me,” he directs, peering up at you from beneath heavy eyelids. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, candlelight dancing over your pretty face.

“I love you,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to make contact with your clit. The air leaves your lungs in that moment, a soft exhalation of air that makes the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end.

“I love you too,” you sigh, hips jerking at the contact, fingers digging hard into his hair. “So much.”

He knows you by now, knows how you like to be touched. Your rhythmic panting goes a bit ragged, when he slides two fingers into your cunt, crooking up to stroke you the way you like while his mouth works your clit.

God, he loves this part.

The part where you lose any semblance of control. The desperate sounds you make when you start to come apart beneath his mouth and hands.

“Hoseok -- “ your voice is strangled when you call out, “ -- Hobi, I’m gonna come.”

Something about the way you say his name goes straight to his dick. He grits his teeth when your nails dig almost painfully into his scalp as you start to tremble, shuddering against his mouth.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, pinning your hips down with his strong hands, keeping you from pulling away from the pleasure that borders on pain. “That’s it. Sound so good when you come for me.”

Hoseok stays face first in your cunt, nose and tongue pressed against you, until he’s certain the last wave has come and gone. Between his own legs, his cock pulses painfully, leaking pre-come at the thought of finally being inside of you.

Your body twitches with the aftershocks of your release as he slowly kisses his way up your thighs, your mound, your stomach.

“How was that?” he asks with a teasing tilt to his mouth, stealing your ability to answer when he kisses you deeply, fitting his slim hips between your legs. He reaches down to grab his stiff cock, sliding it across your slick entrance. You clamp your thighs together to tighten the drag and he groans at the friction.

“Amazing,” you sigh, dragging your nails over his ass, up the lean muscles of his back. “Perfect. You should let me return the favor.”

His dick practically jumps at the suggestion, stomach contracting hard at the prospect of feeling your pretty mouth wrapped around it. But Hoseok is too worked up, too riled up by the alcohol and the excitement.

“Can’t tonight,” he pants, arousal shooting up his spine when you wrap one hand around his now-wet cock. You pump him lazily, trailing soft bites from his jaw to his shoulder. “Need to be inside of you.”

“Yeah, I’m ready for that too,” you admit, guiding the blunt head of his cock to your entrance.

He surges forward then, pushing past the tight grip of your fingers, groaning as he’s enveloped completely by your warm cunt. You whimper at the stretch, locking your legs around him, gasping when he bottoms out.

He pulls back to the tip only to drive in again, earning another strangled moan. You’re squirming beneath him, breathless and dewy, looking like some kind of wet dream.

“I’ll never get over how good it feels to be inside of you,” Hoseok admits, burying himself as deep as he humanly can into you.

You’re so wet he can feel you spilling out onto the base of his dick and for one fleeting moment he wishes you knew how good this feels for him. How wet and hot and tight you feel around him. How being inside of you like this makes his brain go haywire, reduces him to only instinct and need.

You lift your hips to meet each snap of his, the wet sound of your joining echoing off the walls in this mostly empty house.

He hears you moaning his name in between the other sounds you make, in between the panting and mewling that makes his balls tighten. You grip his forearms as he grinds against you, kissing you in between desperate breaths.

“I think I’m gonna come again,” you gasp against his mouth. “Don’t stop.”

“Oh, fuck,” Hoseok groans, pulling back to get to his knees. He hooks one of your legs over the crook of one strong forearm, using his one free hand to press a thumb to your clit. His rhythm falters as he watches himself slide in and out of you, hypnotized by the sight of his body joined to yours.

You lift your ass off the floor, back arching as you chase the pressure of his fingers. Hoseok strokes you desperately, feeling his orgasm looming menacingly at the base of his cock. It takes just a few more strained pumps of his hips to set you off.

The second he feels you clamp down around him, Hoseok folds back over you, arms braced on either side of you as he thrusts through his own orgasm. He shuts his eyes and groans as he empties his cock inside of you, thrusting until he can’t anymore.

He collapses onto you, heart racing as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t leave me,” you groan when Hoseok peels his damp skin away from yours to get to his feet.

He strides across the room, completely nude, grinning when you turn onto your side and go up on one elbow to ogle him.

“Just for a second,” he calls out, pulling out every unorganized drawer in the kitchen until he finally comes across a pen. “Gotta finish something.”

He makes a show of holding it in the air as he walks back into the living room, opening the gold-flecked box, and pulling out the last unmarked polaroid photo.

You’re smiling the entire time you watch him pen the last caption on the last photograph.

she said yes

tag list!

@japzalileo @dionysusrage @hey-itsmina @myimaginationsrunningwild @hauntedlilies @spring2787 @suppbeccc @veronawrites @minyoongiboongi @katbonv

#hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #jhope smut #jhope x reader #networkbangtan #ksmutclub #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub

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mnstcrbnll · 2 years ago

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"ONE LAST TIME, WELCOME BACK TO SECRETS FROM THE STARS!!

Eleven stellar contestants wanted to give it another shot and discover the secrets remaining... and while some did amazing, some others... not so much~!

Now, first of all, time to spoil who sent those last few secrets... and then we'll go ahead and see who got the golden star... and who ended up at rock bottom!

" i still like a guy who cheated on me and broke my heart and idk what to do about it. i know i shouldn't be. i think i need some advice." was STRELITZIA'S SECRET, and half of our contestants guessed correctly! Let's hope someone will give her some advice after all!

"killed a man by adding 4x the spice to a chili. he never recovered." was BRUTO'S SECRET, and while the majority guessed right, plenty thought it could've been Anzu's, Lyra's or Molayne's secret as well. Guess nobody is a good cook, here!

"I ACCIDENTALLY CAUSED THE GREAT SUNNYSHORE CITY BLACKOUT AND NOBODY KNOWS. I CRASHED MY BIKE AGAINST A BIG ELECTRIC PANNEL AND RAN AWAY." was WILLOW'S SECRET, and with my surprise a vast majority thought it belonged to Mable! And while I'm at it, I want to remind our stellar audience to go visit Eternara's Rickshaw & Daughter's for all your biking needs!

" I once broke a thunderstone earing my classmate lent to me by chewing on it." was LYRA'S SECRET, and people equally guessed her and Molayne! We'll have to gift them both some high quality earrings!

" I have had done something naughty in the break room or my place of work " was MOLAYNE'S SECRET, but the majority guessed Bruto! My oh my, sooo spicy~!

"I have horrible Phasmophobia, but ghosts seem to love me anyway." was RIKA'S SECRET! She got the majority of votes, but that seemed to throw off a lot of people too!

"I've been trying to get back into drawing fanart of my favorite childhood book series, PokeMorphs. I even had a PokeMorph-sona back then, who was a Stantler, and I'm trying to redraw her. Who knows, maybe I'll have her evolve into a Wydeer or something" was MABLE'S SECRET, and much to my surprise, while the majority guessed her, just as many people thought it was Rika's secret! Maybe you too should meet for some fanfiction ideas!

Now now now, the moment you've been waiting for! Last time, Riley ( @auraguardians ) was on top... but this test put everyone in a very rough spot, making someone even go under ZERO STARS! In fact, at the very last place, with MINUS THREE AND A HALF STARS, Volkner ( @low-charge )!! But fear not, someone did way worse: in fact, GRUSHA ( @crushed-ice ) he decided to go ahead and threaten your galactic host on camera and we decided to give a little malus ♥ This means that, at the end of the day, with MINUS FOUR, Grusha loses! ♥

But, now, to see who became our new STELLAR GOSSIPER... with NINE STARS after she guessed every single secret of round 2 correctly, and after she oh-so-boldly went ahead and sent her guess for the first one barely five minutes after the start of our show

WILLOW ( @soardived ) IS THE WINNER OF THIS ROUND OF SECRETS FROM THE STARS!!!

For that, she's allowed to recieve... ONE WISH! Nothing too big, of course, we don't give out Mythical Pokèmon and potions of eternal youth... but after spreading your dirty laundry, the least you could ask for in return is a first class ticket, right?"

cue canned laugh

"Congratulations to all partecipants, and I wish you all a STELLAR EVENING!"

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sunjaesol · 4 years ago

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THE MANY CRUSHES OF LUKE PATTERSON... AND THE ONE THAT STUCK

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

1982

Luke Patterson's first crush ever was Haley Martin. He adored the colour of her hair — like the clementines his mom bought — and the way she finger-painted, enough for his four year old eyes to stare at her in awe.

He watched her make mud pies in the sandbox from the monkey bars, only to ruin them to get a rise out of her. He couldn't understand why she didn't like him the way he did, so he nagged his mom to explain.

"Teasing girls should be fun for them too, sweetheart," she soothed. "This Haley clearly didn't like it."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Her smile stayed warm, similar to hot chocolate and whenever grandpa conjured candies from behind his ear. "Why don't you share your grapes with her tomorrow? I'm sure she'll like that."

His nose scrunched up. "Why?"

"Because it's sweet, Luke."

"I don't get that," he shrugged. "But I'll try."

The next day, he sat beside her during storybook time and that seemed to help a little already. By the time it was lunch, her mood was lifted, which excited him too, and urged him to offer the grapes.

It earned him a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Luke squeaked in surprise, flushing a firetruck red, to which she giggled and plopped another grape in her mouth.

Three days later, his crush was gone from his mind and he began sharing his grapes with his new friend Reginald instead.

1986

"Can you ask Jessica what she thinks of me?" Luke hurriedly whispered, eyes flickering between Reggie and the girl from across the courtyard.

Normally, Luke Patterson exuded confidence. The resident class clown, always opening his jaw to react to the teacher without raising his hand, catching fights with stupid classmates, sneaking into dad's stationwagon to create mixtapes.

Fearlessness was his freaking middle name. (It was actually Beck, but whatever. He wished it was something cool like Duran Duran though.)

But when it came to girls... he got so nervous. Because they were girls! He didn't understand them! They hated rambunctious boys and only listened to stupid pop music and blabbered about how they stole makeup from their sisters.

Jessica, however, somehow made his heart flutter and his stomach twist up. She just looked cool in her dungarees and she had a pretty smile and she didn't wear that overwhelming, sugary perfume that was now popular.

Reggie snickered, in the way only eight year old boys could. "You liiiiiiike her!"

"No!" He scowled. "I–I'm just curious."

"Sure," he drawled, but then shrugged in agreement, the oversized leather jacket rustling on his shoulders. He stole it from his older brother after he saw him kissing (!!!) some girl and figured it held some magic to impress the ladies with.

"Just do it!"

With a dramatic flourish, the boy left their hiding spot, Luke lurking around the corner of the alcove to watch. Jessica looked up from her hard work of creating friendship bracelets and smiled at Reggie.

Oh, gosh. She was pretty.

A minute later, a sheepish Reg slowly crawled back to him, cheeks red and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

Luke grabbed his shoulders, urgent. "What did she say?"

"Uh... well..."

"C'mon, dude!"

Reggie sighed. "She... likes me, buddy. Sorry."

His hopeful face crashed into one of devestation, quickly covering it up with a laugh and a squeeze of the shoulder. Oh, man, what would Steven Tyler do?

"That– that's dope!"

In the end, Reggie and Jessica were boyfriend and girlfriend for a week while he wrote an angry poem about how stupid dungarees were.

Huh... it was surprisingly good.

1988

"Hey, Luke," Gwenn greeted, shy, tucking her hands in her Camp Wacky Rocka hoodie. "I really liked that song you made about your guitar."

Jumping from the tree branch to the ground, Luke dazzled her with an appreciative smile. From above, Reggie and their new friend Alex watched on curiously.

"Thanks!"

Who would've thought that summer camp would be the first time he made a real, girl friend! Gwenn was super cool and she played the saxophone and she liked Joan Jett and her hair was all curly and big and it reminded him of pretty clouds.

Looking over her shoulder, he noticed a gaggle of girls staring at them. Like they were waiting.

Gwenn stared at him. "Can you close your eyes?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just 'cause."

Whatever. Maybe she wanted to show him something cool and would stick it in his hand. Complying, he closed his eyes and impatiently waited, bouncing on his heels.

"So?"

Suddenly, he felt a light, warm touch on his mouth and — oh! She was kissing him!

Luke staggered back in surprise, gawking at a blushing Gwenn as she squeaked a sorry and ran back to the now giggling and screeching girls. They ran away like a flock of birds.

It was a dare! His first kiss, stolen by a dare!

His boys jumped down beside him, awed.

Reggie hollered. "You kissed Gwenn!"

"I don't get it," Alex muttered.

Luke's face twisted up in a sour expression. Camp Wacky Rocka should be all about the music and becoming legends and Gwenn ruined it!

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever. Let's go to the mess hall!"

1989

When Luke turned eleven, he kissed someone for real.

His birthday party was at the arcade, loud chatter and robotic sounds clashing together in an amazing cacophony. His parents hated the place, which is why Luke loved it.

Of the twenty guests, Yasmine clapped the loudest after he finished his song with the boys — Math Is For Losers! — and grabbed his hand as they walked to a duel game.

Luke felt fuckin' giddy the entire time. (Freakin' in front of his parents, fuckin' with friends.) The swoop in his stomach, his cheeks stretched into a wide beam.

Freshly eleven and the king of the arcade, he boldly asked if he could kiss her.

She smiled, her purple headband glittering in the neon lights, and nodded.

It was short and warm and her lips tasted like pink lemonade and sour gummies and it gave him an entirely new buzz. It was exciting.

He kissed her a couple more times the days after, eager and curious, until she claimed she was now only interested in twelve year old boys.

Since Luke now held the record of most kisses between him, Alex and Reggie, he wasn't too bothered by it. They shook hands, complimented each other on the kissing, and that was that.

1992

"Are you or are you not my boyfriend?" Olivia bit, crossing her arms.

Luke sighed, lazy gaze drifting from her to his band waiting by their bikes. Damn, he thought having a girlfriend would be way easier. Why was she so tense?

"I am," he said. "Why do you think I'm not?"

"Because you ignore me, like, all the time!" Pouting, she fiddled with the hem of her tartan skirt. "And now you're going to be with your band!"

He shrugged. "You can come with us and listen, if you want."

Luke met Olivia this year as deskmates in French class. Her raven hair was long and thick and her lips were all shiny from lip gloss and maybe he got a little cocky, thinking he could be dating the hottest girl of freshman year, so he naturally asked her out.

Maybe he should've considered beforehand whether they had anything in common, but he'd always been the overzealous type. And besides... she was a good kisser.

She scoffed. "That's not any better. Whatever. I'll just hang with Tina and Priscilla then. Laters!"

Plopping a kiss on his lips, she turned around and stalked to her whispering friends. Luke puffed, adjusted the beanie and made his way to the boys.

Girls were confusing.

"I bet dating boys is easier," Alex mused. "Like, equally terrifying, but also... easier. I think. Maybe."

Bobby laughed. "How's the girlfriend, Luke?"

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. "Let's go. I got this new song, Crooked Teeth, and it's a fucking banger!"

Olivia broke up with him after Sunset Curve's first, official gig at the arcade with the explanation that he loved music more than her. He never loved her to begin with, so maybe that was the problem.

She made out with Bobby that same night.

Holy shit, man. He supposed that bitter feeling at the sight of them tasted like rock 'n roll, the one thing he actually craved.

What a funny, funny feeling. (He wrote a hell of a lot of songs about it after. He never quite looked at Bobby the same way either.)

1995

"Hey, Maisie." Leaning against the locker beside the girl, he shot her a million dollar smile. "You comin' to our gig tonight? It's at The Orpheum."

Maisie was fucking awesome. Always in short, flowery dresses and fishnet tights and thick eyeliner like a rockstar, always listening to something new on her walkman. She came from a rich family, but that didn't hinder them from becoming friends.

Her jaw fell slack in awe, him instantly gaining more confidence. Ducking his head to meet her eye, he leaned a little closer. He knew damn well what he was doing, and he got a thrill every time it worked.

"Really?" She gasped. "That's awesome! I'll so be there!"

"Sweet," he grinned. "And stay after too."

A brow quirked up, intrigued. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just 'cause."

"Right," she drawled. "Nothing is 'just because' with you, Luke."

"And that's why you gotta stay," he teased, nudging her shoe with his. "To find out."

If they rocked that gig and he felt like a fucking legend, he hoped it would end with the two of them hooking up. He wasn't interested in dating — having learned his lesson after Olivia — and he knew she wasn't either, but she was fun.

And that was the most important to him: to have fucking fun. Luke Patterson was here for a good time, not a long time.

And if nothing happened between him and Maisie, then he'd still feel like a legend. In a couple of hours, he was going to play at The Orpheum! How gnarly was that?!

2022

Twenty-seven years later, Luke was still seventeen years old. While he preferred to not question the science behind ghostly activities — he flunked physics anyway — he was happy that he froze at this age.

Because Julie was seventeen, too.

And, man. He was madly in love with her.

He loved everything, from the babyhairs curling around her ears, to her voice and compassionate soul, to her beautiful smile, all the way to her cute, doodled sneakers.

Her epic music taste, her snark, the way she always found his gaze, the way she finished his lyrics, the way she always knew what to say to make him feel better.

His heart melted to a flickering candle whenever she hugged him, a raging wildfire erupting between every kiss. He was a fool for her.

"Stop moving," she giggled, one hand coming up to hold his chin.

He grinned, "Sorry, Jules."

Shifting closer, she dabbled more glitter on his cheeks. They were playing at a black-light club tonight, so Julie and Flynn bought all the glow in the dark makeup available at the store for the occasion.

They looked ridiculous in daylight, Julie's weirdly pink lipstick claiming all his attention, but he knew they'd look fucking cool once the lights went down.

"You want to watch a movie after the gig?" she whispered.

Luke rolled his eyes, playful. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah." With a bashful tilt of the shoulder, she leaned in closer. "But then you'll be with me."

"Julie! How scandalous," he teased, though his chest swelled at the thought of having some alone time, some cuddle time, with Julie.

"So?"

Murmuring a yes, he closed the little distance to kiss her, sealing the deal, only for her to chase after him — an attempt to wipe the lipstick stain off his lips.

"Nah, keep it." A smirk grew. "So the people know."

She tsked. "Idiot."

"You like it."

"I'm still taking it off though, seeing as you're supposed to be a hologram," she pointed out. "But... you can kiss my lipstick away after the show."

He sighed, dreamy. "I love you."

Finishing his glitter and removing the stain, she dazzled him with a satisfied smile. "Love you too."

She rose up from the couch and went to search for Reggie, the boy likely with Carlos. For a moment, Luke was alone in the studio, allowing himself to sink into that warm, fuzzy feeling.

No matter how many blunders he went through with girls — Haley, Jessica, Gwenn, Yasmine, Olivia, Maisie — they all prepared him, in one way or the other, for Julie.

To not only recognise when an awesome girl was standing right in front of him, but also how to treat her — because Julie Molina deserved the fucking world.

Even if that world now included the supernatural.

Whatever. They were all a little crazy.

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@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @unsaid-emily @willexx

#juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms

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subbykboys · 5 years ago

Text

the bad boy’s secret | chanyeol

↳ pairing : badboy!chanyeol x reader

Genre ➞ bad boy AU, fwb AU, college AU, smut

Warnings ➞ sub!chanyeol, dom!reader, bondage, oral (m. & f. receiving), edging, unprotected sex, riding, mild dirty talk, mild degrading, creampie, face riding, cum eating [ sorry not sorry ], reader is in denial , overuse of the word please

Word Count ➞ 8.2k

chanyeol is a bad boy with a nasty reputation. he’s sexy, mysterious, and entirely untouchable. well... to most people, that is. to you, on the other hand-- he’s something else entirely.

posted ; 6.04.20

there was an angry chill in the air. it bit at your face and hands as you strode to the campus lot where your car was parked. all around you, brightly colored leaves fell to the earth as strong gusts of wind broke them free of the branches they so weakly clung to. they blanketed the ground in shades of vibrant reds, tempting oranges, and dull, blotchy browns.

it was actually really beautiful. you'd always been a fan of the cool undertones of fall. especially the reds. ugh, red was such a gorgeous color. practically everything you owned was red, or some varying shade of it. it was just so sexy and dangerous and—

"(y/n)!" you were snapped from your inner thoughts by a barking voice.

quickly, you averted your eyes from the ground and onto the face of the girl walking beside you. her name is Mina, you're pretty sure. you grimaced at her irritated expression, realizing you must have zoned out again. getting lost in your thoughts at inappropriate times was a pretty frequent occurrence for you.

"huh?"

she scoffed in disbelief, eyes narrowing, "where's your head at? i've been talking for a solid five minutes and i'm pretty sure you stopped listening six minutes ago."

you chuckled, scratching the back of your neck as an apologetic smile touched your lips, "sorry. i was just thinking about the leaves."

"you're so weird."

you didn't know why she felt comfortable saying that to you. you weren't even friends. at least, not by your standards. maybe acquaintances. maybe.

and that was only because you happened to have the same afternoon photography class and just so happened to sit next to each other. you supposed in her pea sized brain that was enough to qualify for a friendship. but you had standards. and she was god damn rude.

regardless, you didn't have the energy or patience to start any sort of altercation. so you shrug, head bobbing lazily in agreement.

"i know."

that seemed to satisfy her as any remaining glimmer of annoyance was swept off her features with one last eye roll and replaced by a light grin, "whatever. hey, there's this party at my boyfriend's frat house tonight and you should totally come."

"no thanks." was your swift, concise rejection. but of course, that was not enough to satisfy her.

"what? why not?" her tone demanded an explanation that you really didn't feel like giving.

sighing heavily, you kicked a pebble across the sidewalks. "parties aren't my thing."

that was maybe half the truth. you actually did like parties. just not frat boy parties. they were like beacons for girls with low self esteem and insecure rich boys with superiority complexes. they were loud as fuck and made your head ache. not to mention they reeked. apparently, a lot of guys didn't learn in high school how to put on deodorant. your preference stood with more low key parties, with a more controlled number of attendees and some chill drinking. maybe getting a little baked if you were in that vibe.

"you can be such a buzzkill," she groaned loudly, head rolling back as she stomped her foot childishly. you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

"i know."

"do you ever just let yourself have a good time? like ever? we're in the prime of our lives for god’s sake!" and there she goes again with the 'prime of our lives' bullshit. please. maybe this was the best life would ever be for her, but you had other plans.

"i have to finish an essay for my business class." no you didn't.

"but it's friday! you have all weekend to finish it!" why was she trying to argue with you? you'd already said no, so why was she still trying to convince you. spoiler, you weren't about to change your mind anytime soon.

"i prefer not to put work off until the very last minute." also a lie.

"(y/n)," she whined, "come on, i personally think it would be pretty healthy for you not to spend another friday night pent up in that little apartment of yours—"

all at once she was cut off by the distinct roaring of an engine. both your gazes shifted towards the road ahead of you, watching as a flashy red motorcycle came tearing down the street. an excited gasp exploded from your–barely–acquaintance's mouth while a low groan escaped yours.

fantastic. just what you needed. your daily dose of—

"Yeolie!"

you winced as she squealed his name, waving energetically. you silent prayed he'd just keep going. but of course, he didn't. his bike came to a gradual halt in front of the sidewalk you stood on. it purred as he planted his feet securely on the cement.

now this next part you could almost see happening in slow motion.

he reached up with his leather glove clad hands, pulling off his sleek black helmet to reveal a pair of thick, pink lips, a sharp, defined nose, charcoal black eyes, and a head of silver locks. you could practically feel Mina swooning as he swung his head to the side, effectively flipping his hair like some kind of wannabe fetus Justin Bieber. it took less than a moment for those dark eyes to fall on the pair of you, and a slow smirk to crawl across his face.

Mina immediately rushed up to him (all too energetically for someone who already has a boyfriend, mind you), squeaking out sweet greetings as her touchy hands found purchase on the sleeve of his leather jacket.

what was up with him and the leather anyway? it was only on shockingly rare occasions that you witnessed him donning something other than his signature black leather outfit, decorated with silver zippers and complimented by a thick chain around his neck and a single silver earring. how much cheesier could he get?

you'd think after high school, people would be over the whole 'bad boys are so hot' thing.

apparently not.

because at your uni, Park Chanyeol was hot shit. every girl and every guy wanted to get their hands on him in one way or another. he was dangerous, sexy, mysterious, hard to get. he rode a blood red motorcycle and smoked blunts behind the main building for god's sake.

he was the definition of a cliche. but it seemed you were the only person that could see through his whole charade.

"(y/n), don't be rude! come say hi to Yeolie!" Mina suddenly whipped around, waving you over.

this bitch—

the corner of your lip twitched in a subtle sneer, but, ever the pacifist, you obliged, slowly moving to stand at her side. his irritating smirk widened upon your approach, tongue swinging over the corner of his lip as his eyes dropped to do a brief once over.

"Chanyeol," you grunted with a less than enthusiastic tone.

"(y/n)," was his swift reply, voice as deep and smooth as ever, "wonderful seeing you again. you look as happy-go-lucky as ever."

the sarcasm was palpable.

"yeah well, it seems i just can't contain myself with you around," you bit back with just as much satire, lips curling dryly.

"i'm flattered," he all but cooed, head tilting downward as his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

he stared boldly into your eyes, and you stared right back with just as much fire.

"um... do you guys, like... know each other?"

"no."

"yes."

you both responded simultaneously.

confusion plastered itself across her face, eyes jumping back and forth from your face to his. a taunting smile tugged at the corners of his lips, "we actually went to the same high school, isn't that right, (y/n)?"

you huffed in annoyance, shoulders slumping, "yeah. we did."

"and you never told me this because…?"

because you weren't close in the least and you hadn't even told her when your birthday was let alone about your high school life.

"didn't seem like important information."

she gaped at you in disbelief, "anything regarding my Yeolie is important information!"

was she trying to stroke his already colossal ego? if his head got any bigger, it might just explode.

Chanyeol’s grin broadened at her statement, and you silently groaned, knowing exactly what was coming before he even opened his mouth, "yeah, (y/n). anything regarding me is important information. so why didn't you tell her? trying to keep me all for yourself? how greedy of you."

"please." you scoffed.

Mina glared at you sharply before plastering an innocent smile across her face and twirling a strand of her platinum blonde dyed hair. "ignore her, Yeolie. i was actually wondering if i'd be seeing you at Jake's party tonight?"

"wasn't planning on it," he admitted, and Mina pouted, lips puckering, over dramatically whining in protest. suddenly, his eyes shifted to you, that stupid smirk touching his features, "but maybe if a certain buzzkill was attending... i'd be more tempted to make an appearance."

buzzkill? oh, you.

"i'm not—"

"of course (y/n)'s coming! wouldn't be a party without her!" Mina rushed to cut you off, throwing an arm over your shoulder and yanking you into her side with a grip tight enough to bruise. you looked at her like she was crazy, brows furrowed, eyes wide, lip raised in a disgusted sneer. but her hold was enough to squeeze the air out of your lungs and steal away your ability to refute.

Chanyeol’s brows jumped in surprise, an amused grin spreading across his face, "really?"

"wait, no—"

"yes! i was surprised when she agreed, too! but guess she's finally breaking out of her shell!" you were going to kick her ass if she kept cutting you off.

"well isn't that great to hear." there was a mischievous flicker in his dark eyes, a look you knew all too well.

"so... you'll come?" she asked hopefully.

"sure." you were annoyed at how easily he agreed. he was still smirking smugly as he began pulling his helmet back down over his head. shooting you a wink and a two fingered wave, he spoke again, "see ya tonight."

with that final word, he was speeding off down the road, tires kicking up dust and pebbles as they spun.

as soon as Mina's grip loosened from around you, you were ten feet away, swiftly walking in the direction of your car. "(y/n)! wait!" she cried out, running after you in her five inch heels. you didn't slow down in the least.

"i'm not going, Mina," you said sternly, not even bothering to look back at her.

"b–but i told Chanyeol—"

"no."

"please?"

"not. happening."

⋄⋆⋄

you ended up going.

not because you wanted to, of course. but because Mina decided it was necessary to show up at your apartment and quite literally drag you out. she was surprisingly strong for such a small person, and fiercely persistent. she'd even gone the extra mile of forcefully applying makeup to your eyelids and lips. that's not to say you didn't put up one hell of a fight. but conflict was never your strong suite, and you eventually ended up going pliant under her ministrations.

unsurprisingly, it was just as you expected it to be. loud. stinky. and filled to the brim with horny bastards looking for a quick fuck. you'd been there for all of ten minutes and you'd already gotten your ass grabbed six times. slimy assholes think it's acceptable to touch someone without permission. all the more reason you didn't want to stick around for long.

not to mention, Mina had ditched you the minute you walked in the door to suck faces with her fuckboy boyfriend. since then you'd been gravitating from room to room, searching for the best place to sit without being squished by a horny couple practically dry humping against you.

luckily, you found your solace upstairs in an empty bedroom. the music was muffled the moment you shut the door, the stuffy air that smelled of sweat and marijuana also clearing out. finally, you could breathe.

you spotted a candle and lighter on the bedside table, and quickly moved to light it. the dull, soothing glow that filled the room, splashing light across the walls made the headache that had begun to swell at your temples ease up. exhaling softly, you fell back onto the neatly made bed, body relaxing into the soft duvet.

but of course, your moment of tranquility was short lasting.

because before you could so much as shut your eyes, the door was opening, and a painfully familiar voice was purring, "there you are~ i've been looking all over for you, (y/n), you sly girl."

"fucking hell," you growled under your breath, propping yourself up on your elbows to face him properly, "what do you want, Chanyeol?"

he gently nudged the door shut behind him, before walking over to where you lay. "isn't it obvious?" he murmured, leaning forward to press his hands against the mattress on either side of your ankles.

"spell it out for me."

he chuckled softly, knees meeting the bedding as he began to crawl upwards, until his face was hovering over yours. even you couldn't deny how beautiful he looked up close, with those big, dark eyes, boyishly grinning lips, smooth, tan skin...

"i," he began, nose nudging against your cheek, "want," his lips feathered over yours, "you."

a dark chuckle rolled off your tongue as you met his hooded, lustful gaze. "you we're so greedy last time... and still... you couldn't get enough," you replied smoothly, voice deepening as your desire for him grew.

"what can i say? i'm insatiable."

you scoffed, the corners of your lips curling as you lifted your head slightly, leaving only the tiniest of spaces between your mouth, "i don't think you deserve it." your whisper caressed his lips all too temptingly. A chill rolled down his spine, eyes fluttering as he felt himself falter briefly.

"maybe i don't... but i can earn it..."

now that caught your interest.

a smirk touched your features, "and how might you do that?"

he bit his lip, trying his best to subdue a grin, "by doing whatever you ask of me."

"you willing to take that risk? after that little stunt earlier? i might just decide not to go easy on you." your voice was taunting, but the challenge and threat were very real.

"i can handle anything you give me."

you raised a brow, amused by his naive confidence. then, in the blink of an eye, you had him underneath you, pinning his wrists to the mattress above his head. the action had been so sudden that he could only gasp in shock when his back collided with the bed. you stared down at him with dark eyes, the tip of your tongue sliding over the corner of your mouth.

"you sure about that, big boy?"

he inhaled deeply when your head lowered to the curve of his throat, lips just barely grazing over that sensitive spot. "most definitely." he let out breathlessly, eyes fluttering as he tilted his chin back, offering himself to you. something dark alighted in your eyes, a sinister gleam in your smirk as thoughts of how you could absolutely ruin him flooded your mind.

"you're going to regret saying that."

you didn’t offer him the opportunity to respond before your lips crashed down on his. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the sudden action, but quickly relaxed beneath you, returning the kiss eagerly.

see? you much preferred Chanyeol when he wasn’t running that big mouth of his. he was always so much more fun when he was choking on desperate moans and trembling uncontrollably under your touch.

truth about the infamous Park Chanyeol? he was a bitch.

in fact... he was your bitch.

it started back in high school. when you were the chill girl who wasn't too well known by anyone outside of your friend group, and when he was the untouchable bad boy that everyone drooled over.

to keep it to the point, you'd both attended a mutual friend's party your senior year, got wasted, and hooked up.

but, it wasn't what you'd expected it to be. no, because you'd expect Chanyeol to be the kind of guy to pin a girl (or guy) down and dominate the fuck out of them. but the moment your voice took on an authoritative pitch, he was putty in your hands, whining and moaning and begging... it stirred something to life inside of you that you had no idea was there.

and it was good. really good. so good, in fact, he came running back to you within the next week practically begging for more. and shit, you gave it to him. he was one of the first guys you'd dominated like that. it was empowering, controlling a guy as big as Chanyeol was. it was an addictive sensation.

but you'd made it very clear from the beginning that it was going to be nothing more than sex. it wasn't romantic, you weren't friends, and you had no intention of getting to know him on a deeper level than his body. though, he seemed suspiciously intent on worming his way into your life one way or another. the boy was relentless. luckily, you were equally as stubborn. a match made in hell, aren’t you? what a spectacle.

you drew away from the kiss at the feeling of his tongue prodding at your lips, a low whine following soon after. you scoffed softly at the sight of his pouting face, “so needy.”

“you can only blame yourself.” he shot back easily, eyes already hooded and darkened with lust. excitement glimmered within them as you reached down between your bodies, fingers slowly undoing his belt.

“is that right?” you murmured, not breaking eye contact for a single moment, a lazy smirk resting on your face. he swallowed, trembling pupils jumping noncommittally from your intense stare down to where you were making easy work of his belt buckle.

“i— yes.” you don’t think he knew what he was saying yes to, his mind already becoming a muddled mess from the promise of what the night had in store for the two of you. his rationality had a nasty habit of hopping out the window whenever you got him in this position.

“what are you hoping happens tonight, Chanyeol?” you asked softly, slowly pulling his belt from the first loop of his jeans.

he swallowed thickly, head beginning to swing back and forth is slow swoops. “i– i don’t—” his voice broke off with a strangled whine as you allowed your fingertips to caress ever so gently over the ever growing tent in his pants.

you raised a brow into a questioning arch, stifling a smirk of amusement at his already flustered state. “it’s a simple question.”

his cheeks pinkened. “i just… want you.” it almost came out more as a question than a statement, words shy and hesitant.

“want me to what?” you pressed.

“to… to kiss me.” his gaze fell onto your lips, his own parting.

“kiss you?” you repeated, tone on the verge of taunting. “asking for a lot there, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

you were teasing him, but he didn’t seem to mind, blinking slowly as he dragged his tongue over the pink swell of his thick lower lip. “want you to touch me…” his voice lowered an octave, deep, lustful eyes looking up at you intensely.

“where?”

“everywhere.” he replied without missing a beat. “anywhere. just— just want your hands. or your mouth. i’ll take anything that you give me… but you already know that.”

you really loved the sound of his voice when he got like this. it was softer than cotton and smoother than silk, rumbling so deep in his chest that you could almost mistake it for purring. it spilled off his lips like the thickest, sweetest honey, so lush and lovely, dripping with shameless desire. something about it was so soothing. and the sounds he made were even better, his guttural groans and melodic moans were nothing short of symphonies. and you were the conductor.

chuckling, you smirked down at him. “you’re right. i do already know that.” he gasped as you suddenly yanked his belt completely free. “now be a good little bitch and grab onto the headboard.”

he eagerly complied, capturing his lip between his teeth as he watched you bind his wrists above his head. his eyes slowly dragged over your face, drifting over the length of your neck, following the smooths swells of your chest beneath your black tank top. a low groan slid from his lips as you pressed your hips forward slightly, just barely grinding against his growing erection. his eyes snapped up at the sound of your soft laughter.

“my eyes are up here, sweetheart.” you hummed, pulling his belt taught before looping it around one of the vertical wooden bars.

“and beautiful eyes they are.” he grinned up at you in that boyishly charming way, shooting you a playful wink. you scoffed, hands drifting down to rest on his firm chest before one raised to grip his jaw, tilting his head upward. lowering your own head, you allowed your lips to caress teasingly over his.

“maybe i should gag you, too. keep that pretty mouth in check,” you mused, dragging your thumb slowly over his full lips, “but unfortunately i think i enjoy the sound of your voice almost as much as you do. especially when you're moaning my name. god it’s so hot.”

you almost growled as he took your finger into his mouth, moaning softly around it. you swooped down, swiftly replacing your finger with your lips. the kiss was deep, rough, and hungry. distracted by your weaponized tongue, he didn’t process that you were unbuttoning his jeans until they were being pushed down his thighs and your hand was gripping his arousal through his thin black boxers.

“fuck, (y/n),” he groaned deeply into your mouth, arms gently tugging against their restraints. you dragged your lips away from his, face lowering so that you could suck your mark onto the expanse of his neck. he sighed blissfully, hot breath rushing over your ear as he subtly rolled his hips, body temperature rising steadily. you bit down on his collarbone, hands pushing up under his shirt to feel at his toned, well built torso. he was so hard, muscles rigid and protruding, so warm to the touch.

it was rather amazing. a guy as big as Chanyeol, as strong and as confident, could easily get the upper hand over you if he wanted. he could flip you over and pin you down without so much as breaking a sweat. but he didn’t. he let you pin him down, tie him up, dominate him, mind and body. he allowed himself to submit to you, to be taken by you: slowly, quickly, roughly, gently, he didn’t care, but dammit he enjoyed every second of it. and if that didn’t give you a rush of power, then you don’t know what could.

goosebumps rose across his honeyed skin as you pushed his shirt up to fully expose his tight body to your ravenous eyes, a chill rolling down his spine when you lowered your mouth to latch onto the smooth swell of his pectoral. he moaned quietly, back arching as you peppered kisses down his abdomen, slowly shifting lower, lower, lower… until your face was level with his bulge.

a sound of excitement flooded past his lips, his breathing becoming rapid and deep. “really?” he asked hopefully, voice breathless and light. a slow smirk crawled across your lips and you chuckled at the way he jolted with a moan when you pressed a slow kiss to his clothed arousal.

“really.” you hummed in confirmation. “you said you wanted my mouth, didn’t you?”

he frantically bobbed his head. “yes. yes, god yes. please.” you almost laughed at his shameless display of desperation. he let out a deep, strained groan as you flicked your tongue over his clothed erection, head falling back.

“ah ah, eyes on me, baby.” you scolded mildly, squeezing his thighs in warning. he lifted his head without argument, face flushed and glistening with faint perspiration, lip caught in a tight grip between his teeth, brows furrowed.

from your viewpoint, he looked rather beautiful: arms bound above his head, exposed chest rising and falling dramatically with each deep breath, messy silver hair falling flawlessly over his hooded, lustful eyes.

and he in turn was also quite taken by how perfect you looked between his legs: smirking lips hovering right over where he needed them most, dark, penetrating gaze making his body tremble with an unspoken need.

your fingers slipped under the elastic of his boxers, slowly easing them down his thighs until his length sprang free. “there he is,” you murmured, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you admired him, long and thick and swollen, precum spilling over his hot, red tip. he shuddered in delight as you traced your finger over a vein.

“(y/n)…” his usually deep voice was pleading and airy, hands curling into tight fists above his head, “please.”

you smiled up at him innocently before delivering a teasing kitten lick to his sensitive tip. he whined softly, hips twitching as his need for you increased tenfold.

a slightly more sadistic side of you rather enjoyed watching him squirm. perhaps it was that hidden part of you that wanted nothing more than to tease him into oblivion with insubstantial caresses and borderline torturous kisses until he was writhing helplessly and there were tears spilling from those beautiful big brown eyes.

however, a larger part of you craved the sight of his stunning, fucked out expression. the one where his face glistened with sweat, thick pink lips swollen and red from being ruthlessly and relentlessly attacked by those pearly whites, puppy dog eyes hooded and fluttering, fighting to remain open against his mind's desire to just melt completely into the pleasure coursing like hot lava through his veins. that was the face you wanted to see more than anything.

a broken moan flooded from his gaping mouth as you fastened your lips around his tip, the taste of his salty precum immediately lathering your tongue. he trembled as you hummed lightly around him, mouth silently forming the words ‘oh god’ as the vibrations sent sparks of pleasure shooting through his body like static shock.

“feels good, (y/n),” he whined weakly, stomach tensing, “feels so good.”

your response was to thrust your head down and as much of him into your mouth as possible. he cried out, hips snapping up at the feeling of your gentle sucking. you were quick to pin them back down, a warning glare darkening your gaze.

“‘m sorry—,” he slurred, panting heavily, “i’m sorry.” he was quick to submit, fighting against the painfully strong urge to fuck himself up into your warm mouth and forcing his quivering body to go pliant beneath your ministrations. satisfied for the time being, you dragged your tongue from his base to his weeping head, tracing slow, taunting circles over his most sensitive place.

a broken moan was all he could manage as his cock twitched tellingly, precum spilling down his throbbing length. you fixed your lips back around his tip, sucking gently. his thighs trembled at the sensation it sent shooting through his veins, a breathless ‘oh’ pulsing from his pink-bitten lips.

“(y/n)— (y/n), if you keep doing that—” the warning was clear, but you wanted to see just how close you could bring him to his release before stealing it away last second. it was always fun to watch how hard he came down from his high when he was denied of it. it was delicious, the way he gasped and trembled, shuddering hips desperately seeking out more frictions, but never receiving it. he was so cute when he got like that.

“you gonna come, baby?” you cooed, replacing your mouth with your hand and shifting upwards so that you could look directly into his eyes. you wanted to be able to see the look in his pretty brown eyes when you stole away his release. he whimpered, head bobbing rapidly as he caught his lower lip between his teeth.

“please.”

you only offered a low, contemplative hum before a wicked smirk struck your features. “not yet.”

a sob broke from his lips as you drew away from his throbbing dick, his high stolen only moments before it could come crashing down over him. his hips bucked, desperately seeking the friction you so cruelly denied him of, but finding nothing but empty air in place of your warm touch. his muscles trembled, broken pleas spilling from his quivering lips.

“(y-y/n), no— please,” he gasped out, arms tugging against the sturdy binds, fingers aching to touch you, grab onto you, hold you.

you hushed him with sweet words, pressing a soothing kiss to the cut of his jaw, hands massaging the bulk of his muscular thighs and holding still his stuttering hips.

“fuck– i hate it when you do that.” he cursed weakly, glassy eyes peering up into yours.

“no you don’t.” you chuckled softly, brushing his damp bangs out of his face in an unexpectedly tender gesture.

“you’re right, i don’t.” he relented easily, the corners of his lips curling subtly.

a sudden silence fell over you, and it took you a moment to realize that he was looking at you with those eyes— the ones you knew all too well. the ones you’d told him plenty of times to drop. because those weren’t the kind of eyes you were supposed to look at a fuck buddy with. those weren’t the kind of eyes that just anybody could be on the receiving end of, most definitely not you.

“don’t look at me like that.” you warned, hardening your expression.

“i can’t help it.” he breathed. you felt your stomach twist. damnit.

“then close ‘em, Park. before I decide to blindfold you, too.”

it seemed your threat wasn’t very well received, as the smile adorning his features only expanded, the corners of his eyes crinkling endearingly.

“that doesn’t sound too bad.”

a dry laugh burst from your lips. “god, you’re so fucking submissive. how has nobody else untangled your little ruse, hm? acting all big and tough on the outside when all you really want is to be tied up and fucked like a horny little bitch. am i really the only one that’s got you figured out?” you hummed thoughtfully, tracing your fingers down his throat and caressing his collarbone.

“you’re the only one, (y/n).”

for some reason… you had a strange feeling that that sentence held more meaning than you were willing to decipher.

“you tell all your little side fucks that?” you taunted, disguising the slight tremor in your chest with a dangerous smirk.

he shook his head, gaze not wavering for a moment. “there’s no one else. only you.”

fuck. you needed him to stop talking. so, you did the one thing that always did the trick: shoving your fingers down his throat. he let out a muffled sound of surprise at the unexpected intrusion, a sound that easily melted into a low moan, his tongue immediately getting to work lapping at your digits.

“you talk too much.” you murmured, taking him off guard and eliciting a low groan from the back of his throat as you ground yourself down on his naked length. “you came to get fucked, didn’t you, sweetheart?”

he eagerly nodded his head, hips nudging up excitedly against your own.

“thought so.” you chuckled.

through wide, glassy eyes, Chanyeol watched you push yourself upright, straddling his thighs. just as he was about to ask what you were doing, you grabbed the hem of your tank top and peeled it off over your head, discarding it onto the floor, your pants fast to follow.

“fuck. you’re so beautiful.” he groaned deeply, ravenous gaze raking over your nearly naked form. you smirked at him cockily.

“i know.”

a surprised laugh erupted from his lips at your blunt reply, eyes glinting with something akin to admiration. “as you should.”

smiling to yourself, you swiftly climbed back on top of him, not wasting any time before grabbing hold of his throbbing dick. he let out a breath of appreciation at the contact, biting at the inside of his cheek. every muscle in his body tightened as you teasingly traced his tip over your clothed heat, his precum slickening the thin fabric.

“are you wet?” he asked weakly, voice so airy and strained that you almost missed it.

grinning devilishly, you toyed with the elastic. “do you wanna find out?”

“yes,” he all but hissed out, muscular arms straining against their secure restraints, “fuck— yes, please.”

“mmm, you sound so hot when you're desperate to get fucked.” you groaned softly, nudging your underwear to the side in order to slip his head through your hot arousal. he shuddered at the sensation, his pupils blown wide with lust as he watched you tease not only him but yourself as well with fleeting caresses of his needy length against your burning core.

“(y/n).” his deep voice had become little more than a breathless whimper singed with molten desire. you felt your pulse jump at the very sound of it, your own want for him swelling with every passing second.

Chanyeol let out a broken gasp as you sunk down on him, cursing weakly as you took him in inch by inch. a low hum vibrated on your lips at the blissful stretch, hot tendrils of pleasure igniting throughout your body.

“sometimes i forget just how good you feel inside of me.” you breathed out heavily, peering down at his already fucked out expression with a coy smirk.

“i could never forget.” he moaned, roughly biting his lower lip. a slow, deep grind of your hips had his head of unruly silver locks tossed back into the plush pillows, an unsteady groan of your name filling the hot, heavy air surrounding you.

“fuck, go faster.”

he realized his mistake only when your fingers were pressing into the length of his throat, all motion ceased. “is that how you ask for things?” you asked, voice dangerously calm.

he was quick to shake his head, eager to right his wrong. “please. please go faster.”

“that’s better.”

a rough sob is pulled from his flushed throat (which you’re almost certain will be raw tomorrow morning) as you fuck yourself down onto him. the pace was fast, hungry, rough. his back bowing off the mattress, hips pulsing upward, desperate to meet each thrust half way.

“(y/n),” you almost moaned at the sight of his body rolling beneath yours, muscles flexed and trembling, toned arms straining against the tight hold of his belt, the leather biting pretty red marks into his wrists, “i wanna touch you— please let me touch you. let me feel you, baby. you know i can make you feel good.”

his begging caused a playful grin to draw itself across your face. “should i?” you murmured thoughtfully, rolling your hips in slow, controlled circles. a low, throaty moan vibrated in your chest as he thrust himself up inside of you, just barely brushing over that perfect little spot.

“i can be so good for you. please… let me be good for you, (y/n).”

“well when you say it like that…” you sighed, feeling any remaining resolve come crumbling down.

excitement ignited in his dark eyes, and he watched with bated breath as you reached up, getting to work on freeing him from the binds.

the very moment the belt fell slack, releasing his hands, they were on your skin, eager and impatient, tugging you down into a heated kiss. it was messy and rough, all biting teeth and lashing tongues. not that you minded much, it was always fun reminding him who was in charge, one way or another.

his wandering hands eagerly explored the expanse of your body, squeezing, pressing, pulling. and you let him have his fun, let him push the limits, testing your boundaries with every curious prod and trembling caress.

it was only when you felt his fingers pressing into the swells of your ass and begin guiding your movements that you drew the line. it took all of a few seconds for you to have his wrists pinned down on either side of his head.

you pulled away from his lips was a disappointed sigh, tongue clicking. “still no restraint, i see? i’m disappointed. i thought you said you’d be good for me, yeolie? was that good?” he all but whimpered, his head, too muddled from pleasure to form coherent words, shaking remorsefully. “no… that was very bad. bad boy, yeolie.”

his dick throbbed so hard inside of you that you could’ve sworn he’d almost just come.

a scoff of both amazement and disbelief escaped your lips. “you like being called a bad boy?”

how ironic.

color flushed into his cheeks, embarrassment shining in his big, glassy eyes that were now refusing to meet your gaze.

“look at me.”

he gasped as you purposely clenched around him, thrusting your hips back until he was balls deep, successfully forcing his attention onto your face. you grabbed his chin securely between your thumb and forefinger, and lowered your head to the point where your lips were just barely brushing over his. his pupils were blown and trembling as they met yours.

“you wanna be my bad boy, baby?”

his jaw fell open, a thunderous moan breaking from his chest.

“yes.”

“say it.” you all but growled, tone leaving no room for argument.

at this point, he was too lost in his own desire to feel any real shame.

“i wanna be your bad boy.”

a triumphant smirk curled onto your face, and you rewarded him with a gentle kiss to his quivering lips. “you gonna come for me, bad boy?” he was already bobbing his head frantically before you’d even fully gotten the question out. you chuckled sadistically at his unabashed desperation. “should i let you?”

“(y/n), please— i don’t think i can— fuck.” he panted out, voice shuddering and breaking as you fucked yourself down on him at just the right pace to keep him teetering dangerously on the edge without completely throwing him over. you bit your lip, pleasure exploding like firecrackers in your veins as he thrusted into you. fuck, if he didn’t stop hitting that spot…

his hands curled into tight fists where they were pinned to the mattress, dull nails biting smooth crescents into his palm. noticing this, you took it upon yourself to weave your fingers through his, holding his hands in an unexpectedly tender display. only because you didn’t want him to accidentally hurt himself… that was all.

but, perhaps it was a mistake.

because that look returned to his eyes with vengeance, his features melting into bursting admiration and unspoken emotion. this time, you ignored it, too gone in your own pleasure to spare it a second thought. that’s what you convinced yourself of, anyways.

he was pulsing intensely against your slick walls, twitching cock threatening to erupt at any given second. you could tell he was fighting to hold himself back, the veins in his throat growing prominent from the strenuous effort. it was admirable in a way, how desperately he wanted to please you, even if it meant denying himself of the greatest pleasure of all. you’d encountered very few men with that kind of will power. so you couldn’t help but to respect it when you saw it in Chanyeol.

“you look like you’re about to explode.” you taunted breathlessly, lips pulled into a lust hazed smirk. “it’d be cruel of me to tell you to hold it, wouldn’t it?”

he whimpered helplessly, obviously not sure which answer would satisfy you and which would coax you into further torturing his already wrecked body.

you offered a rasping chuckled. “you’re lucky that i’m feeling rather generous today.”

something between a sob and a moan are thrown past his lips as you slam yourself down on him, purposefully squeezing your walls around him. he cries out your name desperately, imploringly. you know he can’t hold back anymore, no matter how hard he tries. his body was going to come whether he liked it or not. you felt in the way he throbbed and twitched inside of you, heard it in the way he groaned and sighed, saw it in the way his eyes rolled, body shuddering uncontrollably.

“come.”

and he fucking did.

his body stalled, back arching off the bad, hips sputtering up in sharp, quick thrusts, the sound of skin on skin contact resonating through the room. you cooed, relishing in the way he quivered and keener beneath you, mouth gaping silently for a few moments before growling moans finally broke through, rumbling so deep in his chest you could have easily mistaken it for thunder.

you let him fill you up, painting your walls with his release, knowing damn well your intentions once he was finished.

“that’s it, baby…” you cooed, releasing one of his clenched fists to caress his feverish face, tracing the lower line of his plump lip, swollen and red from his relentless biting.

“oh! look at that. you made a mess, sweetheart.” you purred, smirking wickedly as you watched his arousal drip out of you and onto his now half hard cock. he moaned at the sight, cursing under his breath. “I think it’s only right if you clean it up.”

his eyes snapped up to meet yours, excitement immediately burning with his hazy, blown pupils. that was your boy… always eager to clean up after himself. especially if it meant he could put his tongue and lips to proper use.

“fuck. ride my face. wanna taste you. wanna make you come.” he groaned breathlessly, freed hands reaching down to grip at your thighs, tugging at them impatiently.

you chuckled at how eager he was, happily obliging. you climbed up, repositioning yourself to hover over his flushed face, caging his head between your thighs. his fingers pressed into your hips, pulling you down and into reach of his greedy tongue. you couldn’t help the sigh that slid from your lips at the first contact, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his tongue dragging hungrily through your come soaked folds.

“that’s right. eat your come, baby. lick it up.” you breathed out heavily, fingers weaving through his damp silver locks.

he moaned against you, the vibrations sending chills rolling down your spine. it was like white hot electricity in your veins when he rolled his flattened tongue cover your clit, a sharp moan erupting from your throat.

“fuck, just like that. right there.” you panted, hips grinding down against his skilled tongue. “you’re so fucking good with your mouth, yeol.” his determination spiked at the praise, lips encircling your clit and sucking purposefully.

pure euphoria rushed through your veins, head falling back as your grip on his hair tightened. his rapacious hands danced across your body, fingers pressing hotly into your skin, obviously not having learned his lesson the first time around. though, you weren’t too keen on correcting him. especially not with the fire his touch was igniting across your body.

your hips stuttered as his tongue pressed inside of you, lapping at you hungrily. “tastes… so good…” he groaned brokenly against your arousal, hooded eyes devouring the sight of you falling apart above him.

if there was one thing Park Chanyeol loved– it was being the cause of your pleasure.

snagging your lip roughly between your teeth, you meet his searing gaze, your walls clenching around his invading tongue at the almost unbearable intensity of it.

“you like it?” you moaned, feeling yourself begin to climb your way towards release. he nuzzled against you, nose pressing against your clit as his tongue teased your entrance.

god… if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was trying to suffocate himself. knowing Chanyeol, he’d probably consider it the perfect way to go. perhaps you would have laughed at the thought had it not been for the molten pleasure numbing your mind and senses.

“i’m gonna come.”

at your breathless declaration, Chanyeol is quickly replacing his tongue with two of his fingers, fucking them up into you steadily while his mouth gets to work on your clit. it feels so good… you’re numb to pretty much everything else but the feeling of him, the sight of him.

and you find it’s just that that finally sends you tumbling over that ledge: the sight of those beautiful brown eyes, dark and eager, burning with unspoken emotion, pooling with crimson seduction. he’s breathtaking.

you shift off of his face carefully, a hazy, satisfied smirk settling across your face.

“what a filthy boy.” you purr softly, more so to yourself than him, delighting in the sight of his face, glistening from a mixture of both his and your own release. his lips curl upwards at the corners, sinful tongue peeking out to drag over them and savor the lingering taste of you, a low hum of appreciation rumbling deep in his chest.

his hands don’t leave your hips as you carefully lift yourself off of him, offering some much needed support for your still shaky legs. you flop down on the mattress beside him with a soft ‘oof’ and shut your eyes, taking a moment to catch your breath and gather your scattered wits. a few moments of silence pass, before your brow twitched in irritation.

“stop staring before i smack you.” even with your eyes closed, you can feel the heat of his gaze on the side of your face.

he chuckled unabashedly, not all too torn up about being caught. “sorry. i can’t help myself,” he paused, “you’re just so beautiful like this.”

sighing, you roll your head to the side, eyes fluttering open to meet his. “what’d i say about calling me beautiful?”

he pouts, looking like a scolded puppy. “not to say it after sex.”

“that’s right.”

“but it’s the truth!”

“Chanyeol.” you groan, throwing an arm over your face.

he huffs in annoyance rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his palm. “what’s so wrong with me saying that you're beautiful?”

“you know exactly what’s wrong with it.” you grumble, shooting him a pointed glare, one he is quick to return. rolling your eyes, you turn away from him. “i’m too fucked out to try and argue with you right now so can you just drop it?”

one of his arms snakes over your waist, and you inhaled sharply in surprise as he tugged you into his chest.

“Chanyeol—”

he was quick to disregard your warning tone, nuzzling his face into your neck. “i like to cuddle.”

“you know—” you began, scowling as he cut you off a second time.

“i know what we agreed to but come on… a few minutes won’t kill you.” he grumbled, low voice raspy with exhaustion.

the slight tightening of his hold around you told you that he had no intention of letting go any time soon. your features twisted into a scowl, eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling.

but your resolve to remain unphased wavered.

because, for a moment, you let yourself feel the warmth of his body against yours, allowing yourself to melt into it. it was a strange sensation, the comfort it brought you… the security. perhaps it was the aftermath of your orgasm. or maybe the exhaustion from a stressful week. or maybe something else entirely… regardless, you found yourself relaxing into him, into his hold, into his warmth. it wasn’t something you could really control. and even if you could, you weren’t sure if you would do anything different.

minutes passed. maybe two. maybe five. maybe twenty. you weren’t really sure. you could hear the muffled music still pumping through the speakers somewhere downstairs. dull footsteps and low voices passing outside the door every now and again. the soft glow from the still candle flickered soothingly over the pale walls.

a strange sense of calm had settled over you at some point. you weren’t sure quite when. all you knew was that if you listened hard enough, you could almost hear the steady beating of Chanyeol’s heart. his breathing had become slow and heavy, warming the side of your face with every exhale.

“are you…” you swallowed, throat unexpectedly dry, “are you asleep?”

you were met with silence.

sucking your lips into your mouth, you slowly turned your head. your heart faltered in your chest. “geez.” you muttered softly, a faint smile touching your lips.

he was knocked out cold, cheek smooshed up against the pillow, lips parted and puckered out, hair cast across the white pillowcase, a few locks stuck on his eyelashes. you lifted your hand carefully, gently brushing the silver strands out of his face. your fingers lingered on his skin, caressing ever so lightly over his cheek and jaw.

“beautiful.”

it took you a moment to realize that that word had just come from your lips. you jerked away like you’d been stung, eyes wide, and heart suddenly racing.

shit.

you were so fucked.

1K notes · View notes

nano--raptor · 5 years ago

Text

Get your motor running

Pairing: Biker! Bucky x Reader

Words: 1059

Warnings: Smut, fingering, sex, cursing, semi-public sex, Bucky’s thighs, almost getting caught, slight dirty talk, etc.

A/N: Happy Kinktober!! Today’s theme for @the-ss-horniest-book-club is Public Sex! Hope you all like it and thanks for reading! ❤

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Evening was just starting to creep in as you walked into Bucky's shop, thankful that he didn't hear you right away. He was crouched down beside a bike, working on the engine. You loved watching him work, they way his muscles rippled beneath his tank top as he tightened bolts, black jeans stretched tight over his thick thighs. You smiled to yourself, watching him tinker, then he set his wrench down and stood, swinging a leg over the bike and firing it up. Revving it a few times he sat back and listened to the idle, evaluating his fixes. You couldn't help but squeeze your thighs together at the sound of the engine roaring to life, that combined with the sight of your man looking rugged as sexy and hell was making you wet.

Bucky finally noticed you in the doorway and threw you the sideways grin that always made your knees weak.

“Well aren’t you a pretty sight,” he drawled as you walked over, clearly enjoying the outfit you wore, a short skirt and tank top. You handed him the coffee you brought as he shut the engine off, and he wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling you close.

“Missed you today baby, you working alone tonight?”

“Steve’s out back somewhere,” he said after sipping the coffee, referring to his partner at the shop. He hummed at the taste of the drink, setting it down on the ground beside him. “Thanks for thinking of me doll.” You giggled as he pressed kisses to your chest and collar bones, exposed by your strappy shirt. “I’ve been thinking of you all day, and then you show up here looking so gorgeous, what’s a man to do?” The overhead door at the front of the shop was half open, signaling that the shop was closed, but Bucky liked to work with the doors open when he’d stay into the evening. You giggled again as you boldly straddled his lap, loving the feel of his hard muscles beneath you. He didn’t seem to care, grinning as you both sat on the bike now.

Scooting close to him you looped your arms around his neck, kissing his mouth and moaning into it. “I’ve been thinking about you too baby, I just had to come see you.” Your voice was a whisper against his lips and he chuckled, a deep rumble from his chest, rocking your hips against his.

“That why you’re wearin’ this tiny skirt babygirl? Just for me?” Bucky kissed you again, cupping your cheek and deepening it, his tongue parting your lips and quickly heating it up. His other hand came up to cup your breast through your shirt, strong and calloused, grazing his thumb over your nipple. He smirked against your mouth when you jerked from the jolt zinging through you, rolling your hips against him again and feeling the bulge growing in his jeans.

“What do you want, baby?” Bucky pulled away, his voice gruff in your ear, bringing his hand down to your thigh and sliding it up under your skirt. He hummed when he felt how soaked your panties were already, brushing his fingers over your clothed pussy, teasing you. “Do you want this? Do you want me to touch you baby? You’re so wet already.” Whimpering, you wiggled your hips in his lap.

“You make me so wet Buck, wanna go for a ride…” your voice trailed off into a moan as his fingers pushed past your underwear and swiped through your wetness. Bucky damn near growled as he held you tightly, pushing his fingers into your tight heat and pumping them a few times. He held you tight and dragged his lips along your throat, loving the sounds you were making, before slowly pulling his fingers out, making you whine at the loss. As he brought them up to his lips to lick them clean, eyes dark with lust, you reached down to open his jeans, needing to feel him inside you more than anything else. As you pulled him free, Bucky gripped your hips, helping to lift you up and then slide down onto his cock, slowly taking him all the way inside.

“Ah fuck,” Bucky moaned, his cock twitching as you clenched around him. “Goddamn baby you feel so good.” You felt halfway blissed out already, rocking your hips with the help of Bucky’s strong hands, quickly falling into a rhythm. Smoothing your hands up and down his arms, over his chest and shoulders, you started moaning and whimpering as you both quickened the pace, chasing that high, needing release.

“Oh yeah babygirl, let me hear you.” You couldn’t stop your squeal as he pulled your shirt down in the front, exposing your breasts to his mouth. He kissed down to your nipples, pulling one between his lips and rolling the other between his thumb and finger, causing your back to arch as you ground down against him. He seemed to hit deeper and deeper inside you every time, making you whimper and whine and fall apart in his lap. Bucky switched nipples, licking and suckling the other one, bringing his hand down to rub quick circles against your clit. His lips traveled back up your neck and he growled in your ear, “That’s it baby, cum for me.”

Electricity shot through you shortly after that and you cried out, trembling as he pushed you over the edge, and finally collapsing against him. He thrust into you a few more times, your trembling and clenching around his cock driving him to the end as well, and with a groan he pulsed inside you, filling you up.

You lay against him for a few minutes, chest heaving, listening to his heartbeat racing, trying to catch your breath. A door slammed, making you jump, and then you could hear the sounds of Steve shuffling around in the back. You tensed, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but Bucky just rubbed your back gently, slowly pulling out of you and helping you straighten out your top.

“Mmm, just in time there doll,” he whispered, chuckling. You nibbled your lips and smirked at him, feeling hot for him all over again. He winked, “It might be time to pack up for the night anyway, I have a project at home I want to work on.”

-----

Tags! ❤️ @sfreeborn @jobean12-blog @crushedbyhyperbole @mannatgalhotra @bubbabarnes @buckysthing @marvelgirl7 @ikaris-whore @aesthetical-bucky @littleredstarfish @godofplumsandthunder @winterboobear11 @stuckyinamoose @our-whitetulips-us @throwmyheartawayagain @cristie24 @jesslovesyouall @my-own-private-library @hawksmagnolia @peaceinourtime82 @infinity-saga @kenzieam @sallycanwait68 @hailmary-yramliah @ballyhoobarnes @earthworthies @tinymalscoffee @this-kitten-is-smitten @buckosawrus @thefandomimagines @kianifan @skkye @dark-academics-and-florals @buckysbunny @buckys-henley @rebekahdawkins @wearemisunderstoodlove @mrsbarneswillseeyounow @palaiasaurus64 @starlightcrystalline @thehumanistsdiary @msmarvelwrites @moonybarnes

Join my taglist here!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes imagines #buck barnes au #biker!bucky #biker!bucky au #hbc kinktober '20 #the ss hbc #the ss horniest book club #my writing #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you

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ayellowcurtain · 5 years ago

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I love your Milan guru story, you could write the time when you go swimming and Sander just tells Robbe how beautiful he is, while Robbe boldly says, you are more beautiful, giving him a kiss. And then going back to Robbe's house but finally sleeping with the person he loves

Part 3

The water is cold, freezing actually, but Sander couldn't care less. Robbe holds him, scratches his back by accident and he can’t help but smile against his lips, pressing the boy against the pool edge, not really worrying it about them both being naked and on their first date.

“Fuck...” Robbe whines against his lips and Sander lets them breathe for a second, watching as Robbe keeps his eyes open, smiling, out of breath.

“What? Everything ok?”

“I’m fre-ezing.” Robbe is so pale, his lips the only hint of color on him, bright red from all the kissing and Sander suddenly feels like the most stupid guy.

“Let’s get out of here, come.” He swims to the side of the pool where they left their clothes and helps Robbe dress up, giving him his own jacket to help him warm up, running his hands up and down Robbe’s arm, smiling as the boy wraps himself tighter inside Sander’s jacket, hiding his nose and mouth inside too.

“Where are we going now?” Robbe asks, still shaking from how cold he is and still a little wet under all the layers of clothes and Sander is surprised, out of things to say for once in his life.

He thought Robbe would like to go home, take a very warm shower and maybe they could try another date some other time.

Robbe is looking at him in a way that makes Sander’ brain scramble for what’s the right thing to say, his eyes full of intentions Sander doesn’t want to mistake for something else. Maybe the adrenaline is still running up and down his veins, that’s why Robbe is like this, excited, ready to go anywhere Sander tells him to.

“We need to warm you...” Sander tries and he knows what it sounded like, but he really was just trying to give Robbe any way out, a chance to say what he wants to do, where he wants to go.

Robbe laughs and messes up his hair to dry a little bit, he looks around them, still holding onto to Sander’s jacket.

“Yeah, I think we do.”

Sander quietly walks up to him, holding his own jacket to keep Robbe close.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful.”

Robbe stops avoiding Sander’s eyes, looking at him suddenly, with shinny eyes, long eyelashes still very much wet, “Am I?”

“Yes, so much.”

The boy smiles, his eyes looking at Sander’s lips now and Sander feels in his palms when a shiver goes down Robbe’s spine as a reminder that they’re still wet and very cold, “Where are we going?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah, I mean...if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here, right?” Robbe laughs nervously and Sander bites the inside of his cheek not to smile.

“I know a place then. At my place we would have to hide and stuff so...maybe there we’ll more privacy. Okay?”

“Okay. I trust you.” And Sander smiles, finally kissing Robbe again, trying to be more present this time, enjoy every second of it like it’s their last kiss, even though he hopes he’s wrong.

Sander tries to focus on getting them where he wants them to go safely, but he keeps having the need to look at Robbe, still smiling, stil wearing Sander’s jacket that’s way too big for him.

And everytime he looks, Robbe smiles and blushes and asks the softest “what?” that Sander doesn’t know what to answer. So he just continues biking until they stop there. In front of a place Sander always wanted to stay in, but never had the right opportunity.

“Where are we?” Robbe asks, getting off his bike, looking up. Sander bites the inside of his cheek, hoping Robbe doesn’t think Sander is that confident something is going to happen between them.

“Hm, I always wanted to stay here, but never got the chance...You need a warm shower and I didn’t want our date to end already...but we’ll just chill, maybe ask for some fancy room service...we’ll just talk...”

“You’re talking too fast...” Robbe looks at him, really looks as deep as he can inside Sander’s eyes and he feels a tiny bit more confident that he’s not being a creep. They barely know each other, but Sander wants to keep Robbe around. Whatever he brings out in Sander makes him feel good with himself, at ease like he never felt before, “We can stay here, looks cool. Can we afford it?”

“Yeah, just for one night, it’s worth it.”

Sander holds Robbe hand in between his, blowing hot air to warm up Robbe’s still freezing hands.

It must be their lucky night because the lady that welcomes them to the hotel seems to like them a gives them the best suite that’s empty for the night for the price of a normal room.

Sander still holds Robbe’s hand as they go upstairs. The hall is quiet and empty and it builds this anticipation inside Sander’s head that he knows it shouldn’t be there. They’ll just chill and talk and eat expensive food for no reason. There’s nothing important in that.

He must be horrible at hiding his nervousness, because Robbe takes the lead when Sander unlocks the door to their bedroom for the night, pulling Sander inside, looking around at the very high ceiling and the huge bed that’s probably three times the size of Sander’s bed.

“Fucking hell! This is so cool.”

“Yeah, it is.” Sander pays attention to all the bright colors, the different textures. It feels like they went back a few decades, but Sander likes the style.

He only gets distracted when his overview of the room is interrupted by a Robbe taking his jacket of, so relaxed and feeling at home, still looking around him, but so comfortable, taking his soaking wet shirt too. Suddenly, Sander remembers everything that happened earlier. Their kiss, their naked bodies pressed together, even though Sander remembers very little of that, because the fact that he was kissing the boy of his dreams was a lot more important.

“You should take a shower, you must be freezing.” He says with a broken voice that makes him blush, thankful that Robbe looks at him a second later, not talking about his red cheeks because he just offered this boy a hotel room and now a shower.

“You were naked in that pool too. Why am I the only one freezing?”

Sander takes his time to answer, looking at Robbe, how perfect he is, better than any daydream Sander had of him in the past week.

“Because you’re warm, maybe your body is not at used to the coldness as mine is.”

Robbe smiles, seeming to get that Sander is not exactly talking about real bodies temperatures.

“I’m warm?”

“Yeah, of course. You’re kind, and thoughtful and calm. And generous and just...wam tones too.”

Robbe looks down like every time he’s getting embarrassed and shy.

“And you with your bleached hair...the black and white aesthetic with your clothes...you’re not warm?”

“Don’t see myself being warm, no.”

“Bullshit. I think you’re warm.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. And you’re actually cold too,” Robbe bites the inside of his bottom lip and Sander tries not to stare, but it’s hard. Robbe is mesmerizing, every second, “You could take a shower with me.”

Sander suddenly feels very aware of them. Not the room, the soft, velvet-y carpet underneath his now barefeet. Just Robbe in front of him, suddenly asking him to take a shower together.

“Are you sure...?”

“Yes.”

Robbe walks slowly, carefully, before Sander can do anything, even thinking about what it’s being offered. He stops when they’re right there, so close their noses bump into each other every once in a while.

“Take a shower with me, Sander. And then let’s sleep on that bed, please.”

“You...” Sander doesn’t know what he’s trying to say. He’s just happily surprised and a little scared to fuck everything up like he’s so good at doing.

“I won’t bite, I promise.” Robbe puts his hands around Sander’s neck, his fingertips playing with his hair in the back of his neck and Sander closes his eyes, leaning down to press their foreheads together.

“Okay...if that’s what you want.” He opens his eyes and Robbe is smiling softly, nodding his head, holding his hand again to take them to the big bathroom with the most beautiful wallpaper, stopping to take their clothes off, needing to help each other, because their clothes feel like they’re glued to their bodies. Sander can’t help but kiss some inches of Robbe everytime he discovers new parts of his body.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe #the idea around the fandom seems to be of a power bottom Robbe so........#yeah!

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worm-writes · 4 years ago

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Hero Classes get all the fun.

“Class, as you know, the sports festival is coming up soon,” Several groans echoed throughout the support room, “and while this may not benefit us, we still need to participate.” Powerloader sighed as he wrote today's material harshly on the main board. Thanks to a certain student, each student had a miniboard to write on so the main board was just used for lists of material of the day now.

UA was known for having it’s sports festival to show off all the uprising hero students and to get them internships with heroes, which is a bit annoying when it comes to the other classes as it didn't help them in any way. He looked around with a frown, the sports festival always interrupted the students' invention time as they always ended up getting requests for their hero work. But as he scanned their faces, a single look from one of his most devastating students said otherwise. He paused writing midword, put the chalk down, and walked out the room, Powerloader will deal with the chaos after it happens.

Izuku smirked from on top of his desk, following Powerloader with his eyes as he left the room, oh this’ll be so much fun now that he got his silent go ahead. He pushed the miniboard he was pretending to write on aside. Well, since Powerloader DID give him permission, albeit him leaving the room, he may as well present to the class. Dodging charpel from an explosion, Izuku made himself to the front and quickly erased Powerloaders half written material plans. In its place, he wrote, ‘How to have fun when everyone else doesn't care.’ The students who were milling about as they usually do, complaining, deeply invested in their creations, talking to each other and sharing ideas, everyone seemed a bit frustrated with the news and were dealing with it their own way. Izuku clapped loudly, gaining everyone's attention.

“Since Powerloader has bailed, I have a plan to make the sports festival just remotely interesting this year.” He grinned manically, everyone joining in as enthusiastically as they possibly can. Who said the sports festival needed to be just about hero students? Everyone thought at the same time, all on the same wavelength.

“Hey, don't forget us too!” Hitoshi peeked in and winked at Izuku, the rest of the door opened to reveal a large group of kids form both from general studies and management. The three classes were always benefiting from each other's business, whether it was information or equipment. He quirked an eyebrow at them, and crossed his arms, if they want in on the plan they need to pay. The group smiled brightly as before something was pushed up to the front. A large rectangular package was thrown at his feet by Hitoshi. Smart, Hitoshi was the one person he would most definitely deal with. A stray classmate came up and opened it, looked in a bit, then nodded at him. A large smile broke out on his face and the group sighed in relief.

From the school, in the teachers lounge, a shiver ran across them as they all heard the Principle crackle with delight.

“Hey! Has anyone seen Mineta?” Denki called out as the class left the waiting room, no one responded to him as the roar of the stadium drowned out any other noise around them. To be honest, even if they did respond, no one really cared where the grape flirt went in the first place. Midnight stood on a tall stage and was whipping at the floor with a smile. They vaguely heard the other classes get called out and looked around to see them.

“Are they allowed to do that?” Iida called out as the rest of the students met up with the promising heroes.The promised heroes were skeptical when they saw the rest of their student body in their own clothes, mostly leather, and not in their gym uniforms like they were. The teachers heard that Nedzu had approved of multiple things for this year's participants so they wouldn’t know either at this point when they were given a large pamphlet of approved items and it was apparent that Midnight had not read it, not that she needed to. Towards the middle of the group, Izuku smirked, the only rules were that the heroe students were not allowed to be in hero costumes, nothing said anything about the rest of the student body.

“I pledge to win.” Class 1-A and B screamed at Bakugou and his provoking speech as Midnight carried on, stumbling over her words as she explained rules. Mic joked about the speech over the announcement. No one really noticed as the other classes seemed to kick back and watch it all happen. They were all just hanging out with each other, from small groups sitting/laying on the floor, to playing tag. As Midnight called out the event, the hero students prepared to run, not noticing that they were the only one who seemed even remotely ready. Midnight whipped the floor and called out ’go’, having the heroes students shot forward into the slightly small space.

“WOAH! AND THE HERO STUDENTS ARE OFF! BUT WHAT IS THIS!? ALL THE OTHER CLASSES SEEM TO JUST BE STANDING AROUND DOING NOTHING!” Present Mic narrated, just then Todoroki sent a wave of ice through the entrance of the passage of the obstacle course. Near the center of the group, Izuku smiled up at Hitoshi, his head laying in his lap as he played with his hair. He wanted to lay there for a bit longer but, you gotta do what you gotta do. He stood up, with a sigh, calling time as he helped the smiling boy up. They bumped their hips as they walked to the front with a small group of people behind them and spread out in front of the crowd. In sync, everyone pulled out a box from their pocket and tossed it in the air.

The boxes grew, morphing with shape into 4 wheeled first bikes. Screams erupted from the crowds as groups formed around each bike and climbed onto them. Hatsume crackled loudly from besided Izuku, no one climbed onto her bike as it popped loudly, little explosions coming from its comically large exhaust pipes and it looked obviously different from the rest as it was a lot more flashy with puffier wheels. On his other side, Hitoshi gave him a crazed smile.

“May the devilman win.” He called with a wink, and as the last people climbed on the bikes, engines were revved. Then at once, everyone shot forward, Hastume in the lead as her wheels crushed up the ice left by Todoroki. One by one each dirt bike shot out of the entrance, laughter echoing all around at the speed.

As they reached the bots, two different dirt bikes went to the front, passing some hero kids, and passed a rope between them. The kids in the back of the bike, quickly tying it to the ends, and the bikes broke apart, going to the farthest ends of the path, making the line become taught from tension. As they sped past, the bots, which were frozen due to Todoroki, shattered on impact from rope, sending the debris everywhere. Some hero kids screamed as they were quickly left behind to dodge it, especially this one blond kid that Izuku drove by.

It wasn’t easy to get plans from Nedzu but as Izuku drifted out of the way of falling robot parts, he can't be helped but be reminded of the chess match the two shared between the two. It was risky and hard, Nagamine, one of his classmates, had followed along and almost passed from stress when Izuku didn’t win. Yet, with a grin and a deal, Nedzu happily handed over plans. His crackling haunts his dreams but as Izuku swerved out the way of debris, hands gripping harder around him as his classmates screamed and laughed madly, he couldn't help but think it was worth it.

As they reached the tightropes, a different classmate of his shot up to the front. They stood boldly on their bike, the passengers holding onto tightly as they pulled out a small machine, and leaned over, showing it onto the front of the bike. A white foam shot out of it as everyone neared them, and hardened upon hitting blank air, creating a small bridge under the bike as it rose into the air and across the clearing. Everyone whooped loudly as they followed, passing most of the hero students at this point. Izuku going second to last, Hatsume right behind him as her wheels broke the substance, not letting the heroes even try to join them.

Everyone fell in line besides each other right before they reached the landmine field. All hitting a small button on the right side of the handles. Out spung smaller cubes from the sides of the dirt bikes, people on the back catching them before throwing them out again, only for them to morph into two wheeled dirt bikes. As their classmates all hopped onto their own individual bikes, it became a one for all. Everyone swirling and bumping into each other, trying to knock people over, setting off the bombs. Others sped up, dodging the landmines and going past Todorki and Bakugou, who were fighting in the front.

This year, not a single Hero class was going to win, and as Izuku passed the two who were now rushing more to the front, he smiled again. Happy that everyone was having fun, it was his plan after all. As he crossed a line, hearing some stray number get called, he hopped off his bike, and cheered. Watching a few of his classmates joke and play with each other. Hitoshi came in right behind him, the smile on his face was bigger than what Izuku had ever seen. He hopped down from his bike and embraced Izuku, blabbering off about the race. Izuku's cheeks started to hurt as he realized he had as big of a smile.

Yeah, this year is going to be good.

#midoriyaizuku #midoriya izuku #chaos gremlin #crack treated seriously #my works

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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago

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Preview: Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Seven

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @xpoisonousrosesx @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsession @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @cruecifymesixx @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror @mcnibberachi

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze

I keep my lips sealed tightly together as I hear our bedroom door open, initiating Nikki to walk by with a slight, hungover, stumble, as he makes his way to the kitchen, not saying a word to me, not that I expect him to.

He's coming into the living room a moment later, my bag of gummy worms I bought yesterday, in hand, and I roll my jaw, not wanting to start a fight over fucking candy…

...But go big, or go the fuck home, right?

"Those are mine." I tell him, pretending to be reading the newspaper I was reading earlier, and he looks me directly in the eye, opening the bag, taking one out, and eating it.

"My money, my groceries." He states, chewing it, and I exhale.

"I'm gonna go take a walk." Karen comments, sighing as she gets up and walks to the back yard, knowing this is going to get ugly.

"You're right. It is your money." I tell him, not arguing the valid point. "And if you keep splurging on heroin, you won't have any of it left." I add and he death glares me.

"I'm not on fucking smack." He argues sternly.

"You only eat sweets when you're trying to cut back smack." I say and he looks away from me. "At least you're trying to cut it, though." I mumble.

The bag of candy is suddenly colliding with my leg as he throws it at my lap, spitefully, standing up.

"Nikki, you can hav--"

"--It's yours. You have it." He hisses, going back to our bedroom, slamming the door loud enough to sound almost like a gunshot, causing me to jump in my seat.

Nikki: 1, Viv: 1

I decide to shower later on, opting for the guest bathroom to avoid having to see Nikki by walking through our bedroom to get to our bathroom.

I'm only under the running water before I hear the locked door knob twist, before loud banging on the door.

"Vivian!" He screams on the other side.

"Yes, dear?!" I call back, annoyed.

"What the fuck happened to my fucking cars and bikes?!"

I raise my brows, actually forgetting what I did to his precious vehicles until now.

"Open the fucking door!" He demands and I roll my eyes.

"Don't you have better things to do?! Like cleaning the fermented wine--that's been rotting in the hot heat of our garage--from the interior of your cars?!"

I hear the door knob move some more, and I peek out the curtain to see the knob twist completely, the door opening, and I see the little key in his hand.

We both stare at each other for one good second before I'm screaming as he comes for me, but I'm ducking under his arm and trying not to trip and fall on my wet feet as I scurry out of the room.

"I'm gonna kill you, Sixx!" He threatens and I panic a little.

"What the hell is going on?!" Karen asks us, keeping Nikki back when she steps out of the kitchen to stop him from chasing after me any further.

"She completely vandalized my fucking cars and my bikes!" He points at me.

"I didn't touch the Jeep." I argue and he nearly shoves Karen out of the way but she holds her ground.

"I'm about to call Doc if you two don't calm down." She threatens.

"I'm calling the cops and having her ass locked up." Nikki states.

"Do it." I boldly snap.

"No, no, no one's calling the cops." She says, letting out a breath.

"Do you wanna go see what the fuck she did to my fucking stuff?!" He raises his voice at her, motioning in the direction of the garage.

"Have you stopped to think that's a result of what you've done to her?" Karen questions him and he rolls his jaw. "I know you're not used to having repercussions and consequences to your actions, but it's a simple theory called 'cause and effect'." She states and he cuts his eyes at her, probably thinking she's full of shit. "The 'scorned wife effect.' You cheat, she destroys your belongings." She finishes, giving him a quick, sarcastic smile, before stepping out of his way. "If I hear either one of you screaming, again, I'm calling Doc."

He pushes past me, and I go back to my shower.

When I get out, Nikki's nowhere to be seen and the Jeep is gone so I assume he got out of the house for a few minutes, and when I leave our room after getting dressed, going to the living room, I stop in my tracks.

I see her from the corner of my eye, in the foyer, staring at me, and I turn to fully look at her.

She looks like she's been on a binge the past few days, her brown eyes wild and body slightly jittery, her hands gripping tightly to the sneakers I let her borrow a few months ago.

All I could do was stare at her, just knowing Nikki was going to have to come home and clean up the mess that he made.

#nikki sixx #mötley crüe #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikki sixx x oc #gateway drug

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crimsonbluemoon · 6 years ago

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Working For Love: A TerrorMoo Story 6/17

Ahhhh my lungs hate me. >.< But I hope to be better for tomorrow. Anyways, please enjoy this new installment!

Previous Part

Start from the beginning

Brian was going to kill Luke.

“Why is he on the treadmills, anyways?” The sour tone he used didn’t hide any of his irritation at the scene playing out in front of him. Normally, getting to walk into his shift to see Brock there was a great way to start his day. Tyler had already given up on the expectation that the first twenty minutes of his time wouldn’t be spent saying hello to Brock and catching up on pointless conversation. It was the expectation now, and since Tyler had a habit of giving all of the harder clients to him, Brian felt he’d earned his time with Brock. So when he parked his car next to the toyota camry that he knew to be Brock’s, he had a bit more of a grin on his face walking into work.

But that quickly lost its shine when seeing Luke casually chit chatting with Brock on the treadmills.

“You know he is allowed to work-out here, right? Same as all the other employees who work here.” Evan’s ability to point out useless information didn’t make any of Brian’s irritation drop, eyes narrowing at the laugh Brock let out over something the grinning asshole had said to him.

“Tell your boyfriend to come get his lapdog,” Brian snapped out, glancing around as if expecting the idiot to appear on command.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he can’t because he’s getting my oil changed.” Evan answered the question without embarrassment, eyes glued to his phone screen. He was probably texting Jonathan even as they talked about him.

“How are you two not fucking?”

“Cause he won’t ask.” Years ago, when Evan and Jonathan first met after Luke got his trainer job at Tyler’s gym, talking about sex with a guy would have made him freak out. The gay awakening process between his co-worker had been painful but hilarious to be a part of. Brian had done his best to support and tease Evan through the whole thing. He had to admit that Evan choosing Jonathan’s fumbling, messy personality over Luke’s put together, flirty persona had been a swerve he hadn’t expected, but now it only made sense. Jonathan and Evan looked good as a pair, and their sexual chemistry (despite never having sex and only kissing when they got drunk) was off the charts. Fate seemed destined to put them together.

It’d only take another twenty years for them to do something about it.

“I have blue balls for you. Seeing you be so-” His rant cut off when Brock’s laugh entered the air again, making his head snap over to the treadmills. Brock’s cheeks were flushed, but it wasn’t from the cool down he was casually strolling through. It seemed to be from Luke, who didn’t understand that the arms of the machines were not meant to be crossed over when he leaned closer to Brock to say something. Brock had his shy aura still up, but he didn’t show any hint of anxiety at Luke’s closer proximity.

Brian was going to lose his mind.

“Hey, question.” Tyler didn’t notice (or maybe he didn’t care) about stepping in front of Brian’s view, blocking Luke’s blatant flirting with Brock. “What the fuck do I pay you two for? Because the spray bottles by the bikes are empty, and I see you two hanging out behind the counter like you’re jerking each other off.”

“That’s Brian’s zone.” Evan threw him under the bus with no remorse, not even looking up from his phone. Brian normally would give a snarky remark, but the task would give him an excuse to walk by Brock and Luke. He practically leaped over the counter without explanation, rushing by the narrowed glare of Tyler.

“On it, boss.”

“Why do I know that’s bullshit?” Tyler’s grumble was stratigically ignored by Brian when he scurried through the gym, feeling his shoes skid on the floor from how quickly he stopped in front of Brock and Luke.

“Having fun?” He really sounded like a jealous boyfriend, if he gave the thought more than a second of his time. Naturally he didn’t, keeping his attention on the bright eyes now looking at him from the treadmill. Brock looked more happy than surprised, and the smile he gave helped push back some of the negative vines growing around Brian’s heart.

“Hey. You didn’t come say hi today, I was wondering what was up.”

“You miss me?” He asked, hoping the tease of his tone would hide his own heart’s extra beat. Brock had come to expect him to visit, and having someone look forward to his greeting was nice.

“Like sand in a desert.” But Luke ruined their wonderful moment by being witty and charismatic. Brock’s eyes left Brian to take in Luke’s side grin, a look that Brian himself liked to use to play up his charm. It was annoying and frustratingly good-looking on Luke, and Brian wanted to smother it with his own hands. “How come you never told him about my kickboxing class?”

“Because he didn’t ask,” Brian answered quickly, knowing too much of his annoyance showed by the arched eyebrow Luke sent back. Brock seemed more confused as the conversation continued, eyes flickering between them while staying quiet.

“Haven’t seen around the bags lately, either. Too busy spending all your time in here, though I’m getting the feeling I know why.”

“Yeah, cause I can already beat you without the training.” It was a statement that really didn’t have any backing; Brian was in good shape, but Luke was a trained boxer and he’d never beaten him in a match. Luke’s snort of a laugh made Brian’s hackles rise and his frown set in, hands clenched in fists beside him.

“We could go right now, if you’re feeling ballsy. Might be a little embarrassing if I kick your ass in front of our new friend, though.” Brock wasn’t Luke’s friend. He’d only talked to him for a half hour, which meant he hadn’t even scratched the surface of Brock’s amazingness! There was so much to Brock that couldn’t be shoved into one little conversation. Brian had been talking with him for months now, and he still felt he’d barely scratched the surface. So for Luke to claim a friendship was just dumb. He wanted to say as much, too, but Brock finally found his voice and intervened.

“Can I have my lesson today?” The blurt out didn’t seem thought out, if the look of horror that crashed over Brock’s face was any indication. Also, logic would claim that Brock asking for a private lesson after he already did his workout didn’t make sense. But like the stubborn man Brian had come to know (because he’d talk to him more than 30 minutes), Brock held his head high and kept his eyes on Brian’s face. “If you have time, I mean.”

“I’d make time if I didn’t.”

The comment was too honest, and he probably would get ribbed for it later when Luke told their group. He could already see his co-worker yanking his phone out to probably text the group chat about his lame reply. But Brock’s eyes widened slightly, not with embarrassment or fear, but a look of awe that made the corniness worth it. The back of his mind wondered if anyone in Brock’s past had put him first; he never did himself, and always looked so stunned at the smallest of favors Brian did for him. There was a softness in the face looking down at him from the treadmill that showed more than just surprise; it was naive gratitude. Like for some reason, Brock didn’t get that he deserved to be put first.

“You got something in mind?” Brian asked, and it took Brock a moment to pull out of his reverie and glance away.

“I didn’t know if you had any other yoga poses that helped out with anxiety. I tend to have a lot of that, and… it just seemed to help.” Brian grinned at Brock’s sudden shyness, something he only seemed to really pull out around him. It made their moments feel more special, like Brock was tentatively aware his time with Brian was different. It certainly was for the trainer, who held out his hand and boldly led Brock off the treadmill for no reason other than wanting to.

“Sure. Let’s go grab a room and work out some of that energy.” Luke’s comment of ‘texting that too, Casanova’ was ignored by Brian, focused on the way Brock’s fingers twitched against his own. Despite their nervous motions, Brock didn’t pull the touch away, letting Brian lead him. The pace they took to get to the back room was slow, but if Brock caught onto Brian’s altered speed, he stayed mum. Brian’s smile refused to stay as discreet, wide and proud while making sure anyone in the gym could see the moment his fingers slipped between Brock’s. The feeling was nice, and the ghost of Brock’s palm tingled against his own long after Brock had left the gym.

It was almost enough to stop the groan of embarrassment from sprouting from his chest when seeing the 103 messages in the group chat about ‘Brian’s alpha stand-off’ with Luke. Luke spared no details of the re-telling, leaving Brian open to all the torment of his co-workers. One of them had even taken a picture of Brian leading Brock off the treadmill (the angle implied Evan, though he couldn’t prove it). He didn’t think it could get any worse; then Scotty’s memes started pouring in.

No, Brian wasn’t going to kill Luke; he was going to kill everyone.

Here you go! Sorry about the delay, I hope the two chapters make up for it. So as always, please like, reblog, and let me know what you think! <3

#Terrormoo #Soft boys #Terroriser #Moo Snuckle #<3 #Crimson drabblez

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virtchandmoir · 6 years ago

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Ice, Ice Baby

What you can learn from legendary World & Olympic ice dance champion Tessa Virtue

November 8, 2019

Photo: Courtesy Manifesto Sport Management / Red Button Photography

You might think it’s been an easy road to the top for Canadian ice dancer Tessa Virtue – she’s beautiful, talented, graceful and poised. But she’s the first to admit her life isn’t perfect.

Off the ice she says she’s incredibly clumsy and gets motion sickness from things like elevators and sometimes, even from the lifts she did with partner Scott Moir. And she’s faced injuries, disappointment and frustration along her journey to success.

But you don’t get to the top without finding a way through these minefields and learning how to overcome them is what made her a champion.

Photo: Courtesy Manifesto Sport Management / Red Button Photography

Ice skating is a metaphor for life: you push off, fall, get up and try again. No one knows this better than an Olympic ice dance champion like Tessa Virtue. But after 22 years on the ice, she’s ready to tackle some new challenges.

“We’d ticked all the boxes in the skating world and wanted to move on while we still felt passionate about skating,” Virtue says of her and partner Moir. “It just feels like the right time.”

This fall, Virtue and Moir have been on a goodbye tour across Canada called Rock the Rink and on Nov. 23 they’ll give their last public performance in St. John’s.

Virtue says while she’s grateful for what she’s achieved, she’s ready to step out of the skating world and start another chapter of her life.

“It’s time to start filling in the gaps with things I couldn’t do because of skating,” she says. “I have an entrepreneurial spirit. I’ve been my own boss as a skater and I’m looking forward to navigating the business world.”

Virtue is currently completing an undergraduate degree in psychology and will then be pursuing an executive MBA at Queen’s University. She’s already stepped part-way into the business world, working with several sponsors and taking on a number of collaborative opportunities. In addition, she plans to continue her work as a mentor with FitSpirit, to inspire young female athletes to stay in sport.

Letting go and moving on

Facing the end of such an integral part of her life hasn’t been easy. And once the duo decided to step down from competition after the 2018 Olympic Winter Games in Pyeongchang, Virtue struggled with her new reality.

“The most significant transition [for me] was ending the Olympic cycle where you’re working with a group of 15 people and have a singular focus,” Virtue explained. “Leading up to the Olympics, every part of your life is focused on the goal of winning an Olympic championship which makes things simple and complex at the same time. Every single moment of your life is accounted for.”

Virtue says afterward she was left with a different sense of self and had to figure out how to find meaning in that.

“How do you define success going forward,” she asks, “when being the best in the world was the goal for so long?”

Virtue responded by becoming insanely busy in 2018 and in retrospect says it was too much. This time, when she finishes her last performance in St. John’s, she’s ready and eager to go forward. She has a support network in place, plans made and goals set.

Staying Motivated to Succeed

As an athlete, Virtue says it wasn’t always easy staying motivated to keep training day after day, year after year.

“What I realized is how much power there is in delayed gratification,” she says, “which is something our society doesn’t really value. I felt sick and anxious every morning before practice knowing it would be gruelling,” she explains. “It was really uncomfortable. So I started working with a mental preparation coach to learn how to feel comfortable even when I was uncomfortable. I’d ask myself ‘How do I want to feel walking out of the arena?’ Or ‘What will make me proud?’

Dealing with Failure

While Virtue and Moir won plenty of titles, there were just as many or more disappointments and setbacks. She had two surgeries on her legs for overuse injuries, they failed to win gold at the 2014 Olympics, faced judging controversies and stepped back from skating for a time.

“These are the moments that define us,” Virtue says. “Every failure let us be better in the future. Embracing it gave us a chance to pause, pivot and reflect. Rarely do we pause to reflect on failure.”

Virtue and Moir grew to celebrate their failures realizing they were just another stepping stone to future success.

Photo: Courtesy Adidas Canada / Pique

Mental Toughness

No one knows more about mental toughness than Virtue and Moir at the 2018 Olympics. Trying to make a come-back after stepping briefly out of the sport, they felt intense pressure to succeed.

“It’s a seven minute sport,” Virtue says of ice dance, “three minutes for the short program and four minutes for the long. It’s impossible to stay focused every single second. I felt more vulnerable and exposed than ever before waiting to perform in 2018.”

“Mental toughness is all about being prepared – there’s no better feeling,” she says. “Putting in the practice ahead of time, nourishing your body and managing your inner dialogue are all crucial. You want to be thinking ‘bring it on!’”

“Before the 2018 Games, my mantra was ‘I’m unstoppable,’ yet at the same time there was a little voice saying ‘Oh no! This is not going to go well.’ Right before competing [at the 2018 Olympics] I would gladly have parachuted out of the arena! But I had to quiet the noise in my mind and focus on my preparation.”

“We were so laser-focused, more prepared than ever before in our career … and it was the first time I felt the momentum from the crowd. It’s something you can get a sense of in other sports but ice dancing just doesn’t have it. I remember feeling chills after we skated.”

Be the Best Version of Yourself

Although she won’t be training as a skater any longer, Virtue plans to stay active and is looking forward to playing more golf and tennis. She’s admits to being addicted to her Peloton® stationary bike and may buy herself a road bike.

“I’d also like to get involved in a recreational team sport and explore that dynamic, as opposed to being on a team of two! ” she laughed. “I’ll never be in such good shape as I was for the Olympics and I’m okay with that. But I still want to be the best version of myself that I can be.”

While gym workouts aren’t on her agenda (“the gym was my job”) Virtue says it will be a relief to exercise for the pure pleasure of it.

“It will be nice to not have every exercise be so functional and to get in touch with my body,” she says. “It’s like a weight has lifted. This time it’s just for me.”

Over her career Virtue has had many memorable moments and some of them were just from knowing they had the grit to put in the necessary work.

“There were so many 6 a.m. mornings in grubby, empty hockey rinks … we’d be warming up and just at peace together,” she recalls.

Having conquered the word of ice dance and learning what it takes to get to the top, Virtue has all the skills to succeed as she goes boldly forward. And although she and Moir will be missed on the ice dancing scene, their contributions to the sport and legendary performances won’t be forgotten.

Photo: Courtesy Danielle Earl Photography – Golden Skate

Tessa Virtue & Scott Moir

Championship Wins in Ice Dance

Olympic Winter Games

2018

GOLD (ice dance)

GOLD (team)

2014

SILVER (ice dance)

SILVER (team)

2010

GOLD (ice dance)

World Figure Skating Championships

2017 – GOLD

2013 – SILVER

2012 – GOLD

2011 – SILVER

2010 – GOLD

2009 – BRONZE

2008 – SILVER

2007 – 6th

ISU Four Continents Championships

2017 – GOLD

2013 – SILVER

2012 – GOLD

2009 – SILVER

2008 – GOLD

2007 – BRONZE

2006 – BRONZE

ISU Grand Prix Final

2016 – GOLD

2013 – SILVER

2012 – SILVER

2011 – SILVER

2009 – SILVER

2007 – 4th

—Impact Magazine

#tessa #off ice #interview: impact magazine #rec sports

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dandanthemotorcycleman · 4 years ago

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Winterizing your bike, and yourself

So, I’m a mid-west boy born and raised. Which means riding year-round is not necessarily advised. Hell, I don’t run outside past about early November so safe to say, the bike will probably also not be making an appearance past All Hallows’ Eve. I purchased my bike in the fall since it’s considered off season and I wanted a deal. I got one, but what that meant was, my first task with the new bike was to winterize it before I even got to learn to ride it. Since I haven’t been able to ride it, all I’ve been able to do so far is go out to the garage, sit on the bike, and imagine. I fired it up a few times, and even once bravely tested out the clutch by riding it from one side of the garage to the other. Boldly go and such.

The end result of my experimentation was a dead battery. Turns out motorcycle batteries are a tad finicky and don’t like being used but not charged regularly. Who knew? On top of my misuse, I purchased a used bike so who knows how the battery was treated before I so carelessly wore it down to nothing.

Being the nerd that I am, I immediately jumped into some online research to determine if I was going to need a new battery in the spring and how much one would set me back. As it turn out, how much it’s going to set me back can vary quite a bit depending on what level of technology I want to embrace. I’ll save you the full breakdown of options, but I’ve decided on a gel. I believe they boast a decent cold weather start capability, mid-range pricing options, are less likely to leak than an old school battery, and the play nicely with battery tenders. Battery tenders by the way are another topic entirely but for now just know that you’re going to need one.

Anyway, I may be getting ahead of myself. I may or may not even need a new battery in the spring. Step one, for now, was to remove the current (pun intended) one and hook it up to a battery tender for the winter. If the battery is still usable, the tender will keep it fully charged and it should be ready to hook back up and go in the spring.

So, my friend who was kind enough to test ride the bike for me was also kind enough to let me know that I needed to pull the battery for the winter, or I may have just left it on. Complete beginner here after all. He assured me it was a fairly simple procedure and should, “take about five minutes”. I don’t doubt that this would be the case for anyone remotely familiar with what they are doing. Forty-five minutes and three YouTube videos later, I had the battery safely removed and the seat back on the bike.

I’ll give you just a brief breakdown of what it entailed here so you have a general idea of what you’ll be doing, but I would highly recommend YouTube for some audio-visual assistance. I started by popping open the battery cover on the left side of my 2011 Sportster. This was fairly straightforward and even I didn’t need a YouTube video to make it this far. It was at this point that I began scratching my head. Two wires appeared to be attached to the red terminal and the instructions on the inside of the battery cover clearly stated, remove the black connection first. At this point, I’m thinking that I need to remove this bracket thingy (technical term) and probably pull the battery out to access the black terminal. Feeling a little crowded by the seat being right in my face, and wondering if it may be possible to access the black terminal from underneath the seat, I figured I should proceed by taking the seat off so I could get a better look at what I was getting myself into. Seat removal the first time for me was five minutes and the first two of three YouTube videos. The learning curve is steep on this and popping the seat off takes about 30 seconds the second time you do it.

After getting the seat off, I was welcomed by a jumble of wires but still couldn’t get to the negative battery terminal. Fair enough, the goal was to remove the battery anyway, so I may as well focus my energies back on that goal. Big pro of seat removal is that even though I think the battery can be removed without taking the seat off, getting it out of the way really makes it easier to see and manipulate the bracket holding it in place. There was only one screw holding the bracket, so I popped that bad boy off and the bracket came off easily enough after that. I slid the battery out of its compartment and there it was. The vaunted black terminal. Thirty minutes into my five-minute job and I’d found it!

Quick background interlude here. I served for a year overseas in Operation Iraqi Freedom. Spent a solid chunk of that year fixing radios and electrical systems in HMMWVs. That’s a Humvee for you civilian types. Point being, I’m not entirely unfamiliar with working on vehicular electrical systems. So I do have a healthy respect of what happens when someone shorts out a battery while trying to remove it. I managed not to do it, but apparently PFC Garrita dropped a wrench on one and it touched both terminals. Oh, and HMMWVs run two 12V batteries in series to provide 24V of output. From what I heard, the end result was spectacular, and sparks flew. The lesson here is, when you disconnect the black terminal, don’t let it make contact with the bike frame as it is often used as the ground. My college physics is a little rusty so I can’t go into too much detail anymore about exactly what would happen and why, but just make sure the black lead is tucked out of the way or even taped off if you’re the very cautious type. With a properly fused bike, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but best not to test the system.

Unscrew the bolt from the red, or positive, lead and disconnect the cable. There you have it. Battery removed. Screw the bolts back into the battery so you don’t misplace them, and your battery is ready to hook-up to that tender sitting in your basement workspace. Close up the battery cover, pop the seat back on and pour yourself a beer, all while patting yourself on the back for a job well done. Try not to pull a muscle. It can be an awkward angle.

So that’s your bike taken care of, but how do we make sure we’re taking care of our own internal battery during the long cold winters with short, sometimes dreary, days?

Lean on friends. Don’t be afraid to reach out to old acquaintances. Remember that relationships are a two-way street and it takes traffic flowing in both directions to keep them active. If you’re feeling lonely and down, ask yourself what you’ve done to reach out to someone else recently. Don’t be afraid to put yourself out there and make an effort. Last summer when people were really feeling stuck home alone with the Covid blues, I commented on an old high school acquaintance’s post about a local distillery that he’d checked in at the year before. It’s a local distillery that’s opened just outside of my hometown and I was completely unaware of it. I think my comment was something to the effect of, going to check this place out when this whole corona thing finally passes. Next thing I know, he’s calling me via the Facebook chat app, and we end up spending the next two hours catching up. We were by no means best friends in high school, but it was great to talk to him again and I’m really looking forward to checking out that distillery when society opens up again.

I will say, if there is one silver lining to the pandemic, it’s the fact that we all have learned how to Zoom, or Houseparty, or Google chat or whatever group video call app you use. Point is, use one. I have some close high school friends that historically I’ve been lucky to see once a year and we’ve actually had more virtual “face to face” interaction in the last year than actual face to face time in the previous three years combined. Technology is making our world smaller and our friends more accessible.

That brings me to the second self service of surviving winter with the double threat of a pandemic. Keep looking to the future. Usually this time of year I start planning a road trip or begin eyeing up upcoming musical festival dates. Covid obviously makes this additionally challenging due to the uncertainty factor but start doing some research on locations that may offer outdoor activities as the weather begins to warm. So, there are certain limitations to our current ability to foresee the future, but try to remind yourself that winter and Covid, as with all things, will pass.

Try to stay active. I’ll be honest, I don’t like outdoor activities once the temperature starts to drop below 30, let alone the teens. I’m trying to get better at enjoying the winter season here in the Midwest. I’ve found having and wearing proper gear helps. Even with that, I’ll just acknowledge that I’m definitely more of a summer guy when it comes to outdoor activities. This makes watching my diet and hitting the weights all the more important from November to March. The nights may be longer, but that isn’t going to guarantee a good night’s sleep by any means. I struggle with being tired already by 6pm but then being unable to sleep at midnight when I finally crawl into bed. Even getting just 5 or 6 rounds of short but high intensity lifting or cardio during the day gets blood flowing and helps my body prepare to shut down and recharge at night.

Finally, find and keep alive, your year-round hobbies. Aside from picking up the bike as a hobby, I home brew, play guitar, and write…which is what brought me here. If your hobby is a productive one that results in say, some mildly palatable beer, all the better. But there’s nothing wrong with having a hobby with no end goal or use other than enjoying loudly and poorly attempting to play and sing along with your favorite songs while no one else is around. The more varied our hobbies, the better the mental exercise and more importantly, the more interesting and fulfilled people we become.

Until next time, take care of your bike and take care of yourself.

#harleydavidsonsportster changeabattery

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freedom-shamrock · 5 years ago

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Hero Cafe - Chapter 3

Also on AO3

<<< See Chapter 1 << Go back to Chapter 2

Marinette scrambled down the stairs, gripping tightly to the railing to avoid crashing in a heap at the bottom. She dashed across the living room and yanked the apartment door open to reveal Luka. His hair was longer and he seemed a little taller than she remembered from their last visit, things she hadn't been able to see in their video chats. It had been too long.

"Luka!" she cheered, raising both arms up in the air.

He chuckled, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh it's so good to see you, ma Melodie."

Her feet left the floor, and she responded to his exuberance by wrapping her legs around his hips and giggling. "Oh I've missed you so much."

His arms tightened around her and his face nuzzled her neck, tickling her just a little. "This kind of welcome home is only going to encourage me to keep going away because you know I love coming back to this."

"Nooooo," she whined. "That's so mean." She gave him the best kitten eyes she could, something she'd become quite good at thanks to her exposure to Chat Noir.

He let out a slow sigh and loosened his hold, so she did the same. "I could never be that mean to ma Melodie. Not on purpose." He pressed his forehead to hers.

She found her feet touching the floor again. Despite all their joking about it, she knew he hated going away. It was a necessary part of building his audience though, and she wouldn't dream of discouraging it. He'd done a really good job using social media to build a following, but to really make it as a musician, he needed to put himself out there where people could see and meet him, not just hear him. It was a tried and true model, and it was already working for him. His shows in Paris could no longer be held in coffee shops and intimate venues, and he'd sold out the larger bars for his last few solo shows.

"How was this leg of the tour?" she asked, sliding her hands down his arms. She enjoyed the feeling of his beautiful muscles under her palms. "Any needless drama?"

Luka snorted. "I was providing backing guitar for Jagged Stone. That man thrives on drama."

"You're not wrong." Marinette had definitely seen that in her frequent stints as album cover art and stage costume designer for the rockstar. "I'm beginning to think drama is his muse," she suggested.

Luka let out a surprised bark of a laugh. "Oh god, I'd never thought of it that way. But you're so right!" He let go of her hands, reluctance clear in his movements. "Get your shoes on, Melodie. I've missed our walks."

Luka's returns to Paris, especially after the longer gigs on tour with Jagged, had developed into a routine. He'd check in with his ma and Juleka first, then he and Marinette would catch up as they strolled aimlessly through Paris. He'd join her family for dinner and they'd end the evening snuggling. Other than the catching up, it wasn't that different from many of their regular get togethers. Sure they hung out in her room, or his dorm content in each others' company as they worked on their own art forms, and sometimes they went out to eat, but all in all, they preferred the simplicity. There was enough perceived complexity in their relationship already.

By the time Marinette had shoved her feet into her sandals, Luka's guitar was strapped to his back. They'd learned early on that their greetings, especially the ones after long absences, were not compatible with sketchbooks or instruments. As she closed the door, he swept up her hand and brought it to his lips. She returned his smile, happy heat prickling in her cheeks as she shook her head indulgently at him. Luka wasn't a grand gestures man. He much prefered to provide a constant stream of everyday affection. Frankly, it was her preference as well, and she often accused him of being unaware of how much his mere presence, much less his continuous gentle touches, pet names, and unquestioning support affected her.

They held hands as they walked to their preferred cafe for this side of town. They wandered aimlessly, taking turns deciding when to cross the street or turn a corner. All the while they talked, catching up on the things they hadn't over the phone.

"Is your super secret project done?" he asked as they settled onto a bench in a quiet part of a park. It was early evening, and most people were rushing home from work, yet.

Marinette grinned. "Yes." She hadn't told him anything about the cafe she'd set up for the heroes, because she wanted it to be a surprise. When he was in Paris, he wore the miraculous of the snake, moonlighting as the hero Viperion. In fact, Sass was riding in her purse with Tikki right now, and she would slip the bangle on his wrist before too long. "I can't wait to show you."

He flashed her a bit of pouty lip, fluttering his eyelashes. "You're going to make me wait?" His voice wavered plaintively.

"Surprises are most fun when revealed at the right moment," she replied, reaching out to lightly tap his nose. "Surely you know that, Star."

He closed his eyes, a blissful smile on his face as he listened to a song only he could hear. Luka had turned out to be far more perceptive than anyone realized. She and Tikki felt he likely had a bit of his own magic tied in with that whole heartsong knack of his. He'd always known she was Ladybug, or almost always, and he'd realized that she was the new guardian. It was only when that added responsibility seemed too much for her that he revealed his secret knowledge and offered to be there for her in whatever way helped. Just having someone who knew, someone she could talk to, and who could balance her when she was spiraling had made a huge difference.

⁂

She'd shown the cafe off to him when they got back from their walk, and for the first time in their acquaintance he was truly speechless. Sure, there had been times when he couldn't find the right words, but this wasn't like that. He didn't have words, clumsy or otherwise. He'd rubbed his hands eagerly and grinned, fidgeting with giddy energy over each amenity she showed off.

After dinner with her parents, Luka happily helped Marinette bring the leftovers up. When they reached her room from the kitchen, she realized Chat Noir had been there. She rolled her eyes and shook her head at the brown paper wrapped bolts of fabric that hadn't been in her crafting area when they went down to dinner.

"What's that?" Luka asked, following her lead and setting down his burden on her desk.

"Gifts from Chat Noir, most likely." She'd been trying to discourage him; she really didn't need anything in exchange for keeping the hero cafe running smoothly. Even if she wasn't the guardian, trying to take care of her team, she was grateful to the heroes of Paris. But that cat was a master at changing the subject and was incredibly slippery about getting out of promises.

"Ooooh," Luka murmured in a delicious low voice. "Gifts from the kitty cat, hmmmm?"

Her cheeks went hot. "It's not like that," she insisted.

Luka laughed.

"I keep telling him to stop…" she sliced through the tape with a sharp scissors, sighing in awe at the fabric hiding inside. He had such good taste in fabric, and an almost terrifyingly accurate understanding of what she wanted or needed at any given time. She knew he came from money, but she tried to feel at least a little guilty that he was giving her fabrics she'd coveted but couldn't afford unless they were part of a commission.

"I think it's exactly like that," Luka said, looking closely at the fabric, then smiling at her. "But you are amazing, Melodie, so it's not a surprise that he'd be wooing you."

She sighed, her shoulders drooping. She hadn't meant to encourage Chat Noir's boldly stated affection for her civilian side, but it would be a lie to deny that she didn't enjoy his flirting. He was sweet and a bit over-the-top, but nowhere near as obnoxious as he'd been when they were younger. It was nice to feel wanted, but she worried Luka would step even further back than he already had, and oh god she wanted him closer, not farther away.

"Oh, mo ghaol," he murmured, gently cupping her face in his hands.

His skin was warm against hers, grounding her in the moment. She met his eyes and her breath caught, stupid tears welling up. For the last two years they'd had this odd not-quite-dating relationship. They attended universities eleven minutes away from each other (by foot, and he usually biked), and they spent a ridiculous amount of time together… when he was in town. He'd spent so much in his second and third years, touring with folk, rock and even classical groups while attending lectures remotely. When it was clear that they had chemistry, and that they were definitely both interested, they'd talked about how that distance could come between people in a romantic relationship. They were both willing to risk their friendship on a romance, but only if the odds weren't stupidly stacked against them. So while their cuddles weren't remotely platonic, and they hugged and touched in a way that sent a distinct message, they were free to date others. But somehow in that time, neither had. He wouldn't accuse her of being unfaithful, because that wasn't an expectation he had. But she didn't want him to think he had competition, either.

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Let's put this food in the refrigerator so we can have a good snuggle on your bed. There's something I wanted to share with you." He smiled, and it was shy. "Questions I have for you. And I think this will all be okay then." He raised his eyebrows in question.

Marinette nodded, gulping down the sob that was trying to crawl out her throat. She snatched the rolls, since nothing would break if she dropped them and she always got extra clumsy when her emotions ran away with her. The cafe was quiet tonight. Not a big surprise. No one was on patrol, though that didn't mean there weren't heroes out and about. Chat had dropped by, after all.

That duty tended to, they settled on her bed, in a familiar and comfortable position. Her head rested on his shoulder as his arms encircled her. After a moment, she rolled toward him, pressing her face into his shirt.

"You okay, Melodie?" he asked as he gently rubbed her back.

She nodded. "You had something to talk about?" He'd probably gotten another tour offer. He'd only just gotten home and now he was going away again. She was proud of him, and so glad people were recognizing how amazing he was. But it still kind of sucked.

"Yeah." He took a deep breath. "I talked to my counselor right before I came home, and it looks like I'm done touring until after uni. Surprise."

She froze for a moment. Those were not the words she was expecting. At all. She raised herself up on her elbow to look him in the face.

He gave her a smile, sweet and soft. "I'm going to need to be on campus working on my final project, which is going to be a solo album and all the trappings that go with it. I have to do the marketing, the art, setting up a release party, promoting it with local shows, and all that budgeting crap. Conservatoire de Paris has been great about letting me do my music and get credit for performing while taking classes at a distance, but they want me here to do the final project."

She knew her mouth made a little o shape, but nothing came out. He wasn't going away. Not for a whole year. It was the best news. The sobs had been replaced by giggles that she fought to keep at bay. She didn't want to interrupt anything he had to say right now.

"Since I'm going to be in Paris," he said slowly. "And you're going to be in Paris." He lightly booped her nose with his pinkie. "I was wondering if maybe you'd be interested in revisiting us." He gestured between them. "Specifically negotiating what kind of relationship we could have."

"Yes." She nodded eagerly. "I'd like that."

He looked as happy as she felt. "I'll be around to help you balance your super secret side gig, though I think you've been doing a lot better with that lately." He grinned. "Then again, you have a whole team bending over backward to help and comfort you." He winked. "In both forms."

She gasped. "Luka!" She swatted at him gently. "It's not like that."

"It's totally like that," he insisted. "But that's okay, too. It makes me happy that you're getting all the love and attention you deserve."

She wanted to interrupt, but he was on a roll.

"And to help keep things from getting awkward later, I'm fine sharing you with them," he said. Nothing in his face or voice contradicted the statement. "If you want to date other people while you're with me, I get that. You're multifaceted, and I may not be everything you need."

She gawked at him. "What?" She shook her head. She'd always felt that it was fine to be attracted to other people while being true to just one. "Why would you…"

"Just let me lay this out for you, Melodie," he said, brushing her cheek with his knuckles. "Let me tell you what I'm willing to go for if it means I get to be with you."

She sighed and nodded. "Fine."

"I'm okay with you dating the heroes of Paris," he explained. "Any and all of them while you're with me. Though if you're going to date beyond that group, I'd like us to talk about it first; not that I want veto power." He paused, looking contemplative. "I think it'll be easier for me to share you with them because you're their Ladybug, our Ladybug. Our guardian." He beamed at her. "Our most miraculous one."

⁂

I'm in Minnesota and have been under stay at home orders for 33 days. Fortunately I'm able to work from home, as is the hubby. Unfortunately his gig is full time and mine is part time, and the bulk of the MANAGING THE FAMILY burden (dinners, food supply, kid school, kid free time, cleaning, etc) has fallen to me. This means I somehow have LESS time to write. I have to tell you, it's making me insane. Last weekend I declared everyone my room mates and was not responsible for anything. HA. We are trying to fix the imbalance.

mo ghaol - Scots Gaelic for "my love"

If you’re so inclined, feel free to support me over on Ko-Fi

Check out Chapter 4 >>

#Miraculous Ladybug #fanfic #My Writing #Hero Cafe #Marinette #Luka #Viperion #Lukanette

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justahopelessssromantic · 5 years ago

Text

Runaways- A Mayans MC Fanfic

Part 1

Part 2

*Warnings: Slight mention of violence

Parking the car in front of the house I got out and opened the trunk revealing all the bags in the back. Grabbing two of them I headed up the steps and into the house. Placing the groceries onto the kitchen counter I turned around to see David staring at me with his arms crossed.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked glaring at me, nostrils flared.

Pointing at the note on the fridge I replied, “Can’t you read? I went to the store. We can’t survive on canned beans forever.” I crossed my arms and matched his glare.

Sighing he leaned against the entryway pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I panicked when I couldn’t find you and saw the car missing.” He said opening his eyes, softness replacing the hard glare from before. “You got the keys? I need to head out and start looking for a job or before we know it we’ll be broke.”

Pulling the keys from my pocket I tossed them to him.

“Just gotta grab the rest of the groceries out the back then she’s all good to go. Full tank and everything.” I replied giving him a half smile

“I’ll go get them,” he said heading out of the kitchen. Turning around just before he was out of sight he looked back at me, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

“Together” I replied quietly as he turned and walked out of sight.

Putting away the groceries I brought in I got lost in thought. Sometimes I forget how hard this must be for David too. He dropped everything to help his family. The only reason we have a house here was because of him. I have been so worried about Nicky and how he was handling everything that I never thought about how David was handling it, having to clean up another mess his two younger siblings created.

“Hey we got anything to eat? I’m fucking starving,”

Jumping out of my thoughts I quickly turned around a hand to my chest trying to calm myself. Nicky was sitting at the table looking at his phone.

“Shit you scared me. You can’t just sneak up on people like that.” Grabbing a box of cereal and a bowl I placed them down in front of him. “I’m not cooking anything so you're gonna have to settle for that for now. Milk’s in the fridge.”

“Thank God, your cooking is horrendous.” He teased giving the first hint of a real smile I have seen him have since the incident.

Rolling my eyes I went back to the counter and saw the rest of the groceries that David must have brought in while I was distracted. Finishing putting everything away I went to join my brother at the table grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. We ate in silence and when we were finished Nicky grabbed the dishes to wash them up.

“Hey, you good here alone for a bit?” I asked Nicky, “I want to get out and go for a walk. Clear my head.”

“Yeah. I don’t need a babysitter 24/7. I will probably just unpack some stuff maybe watch some tv or something.” He said shrugging. “I’ll be fine.”

I wasn’t completely convinced but needed to get some fresh air so I decided to trust him.

“Call if you need anything and I will come straight back. Got it?”

——————————————————————————————

Walking for about an hour I passed our neighbor’s house smiling as I saw EZ, and I’m guessing his brother, sitting on the steps of their father’s house chatting and smoking.

“Hey Willow!”

Turning around I saw EZ stand up crushing his cigarette under his boot before walking towards me with a smile. Behind him his brother did the same before swaggering up beside his brother.

“Angel, the big brother.” He introduced himself extending his hand.

Shaking his hand I started to introduce myself but was cut off by Angel.

“Willow, I know, baby bro here couldn’t stop talking about the new neighbor all day.”

Blushing I looked to EZ whose gaze was to the ground with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“So how you liking Ms. Rosa’s place?” Angel pulled my attention back to him.

“It’s lovely. Did you know her well?” I questioned looking between the two men

“Yeah she used to watch us quite a lot when we were little,” EZ joined in “sometimes we were over there more than our own home.”

The boys chuckled as they thought about memories of their childhood.

“Man she made the best cookies. Every week it would be a different kind too and she always let me have as many as I wanted,” smiling Angel added, “I’m pretty sure she’s the reason I was such a chubby little fucker.”

I gave a little giggle finding it hard to imagine him as a chubby kid. But then again it’s amazing how much people can change.

“So is it just you living there by yourself, or is there a boyfriend or husband?” Angel tried to question casually.

Shaking my head slightly smiling I looked at EZ when I replied.

“No boyfriend or husband. It’s just me and my two brothers.”

Angel gave his brother a teasing smile before patting him on the shoulder and then looking at me.

“Well it was lovely to meet you Willow but I have to get going. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” Smiling Angel winked before turning away from us and heading towards his bike.

A few moments passed that felt like forever as EZ and I stood around awkwardly. Looking at him I tried to take as much in as I could. Physically he was very impressive with the biggest arms I had ever seen. He had two tattoos, that I could see at least, one on each arm. He was wearing a leather cut with his brother wearing a matching one which I noticed said Mayans on it recalling seeing a tattoo on Angle’s arm saying the same thing. Then I noticed the prospect patch on the front. Looking up at his face I noticed he was checking me out as well. A small blushed formed on my cheeks as I looked down briefly then back up into his eyes. He had a huge grin on his face. Out of everything I think his smile was my favorite thing. Breaking the silence I decided to ask him about his cut.

Pointing I asked, “So are you part of some biker gang or something?”

“Club,” He corrected me chuckling, “We’re just a motorcycle club. Just a bunch of guys who work together and like to ride.”

Not buying it completely I just smiled and nodded understandingly. It wasn’t really my business anyways but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.

“So the prospect patch? What’s that exactly?”

Grabbing his cut up by his chest he explained, “All new members have to prospect for at least a year before they can be voted in as a full patched member, my vote is coming up soon though.”

“So I’m guessing that means you get to do all the dirty work?”

“Yeah, something like that.” Motioning to his bike he asked “Would you maybe like to go for a ride?”

Looking at his bike and then back at him all I wanted to do was say yes. I don’t know what it was but I just felt this connection with him. I was never one to just run off with a guy I just met, but with EZ it felt different, it felt nice. Talking to him I forgot about all the shit that went down back home, why we were here in the first place. He gave me hope that maybe we would be safe here. Maybe just maybe I had a future here and maybe he was a part of that.

“I would really love to EZ,” more than I should, “but I can’t right now. I told my younger brother Nicky I wouldn't be gone too long and I should really get back to him. Can we take a rain check?”

“Sure.” He said understandingly.

“Could I borrow your phone real quick?”

Pulling it out of his cut and unlocking it he handed it to me with a slightly confused look on his face.

Smiling I opened up his contacts and added my number to his phone.

“Give me a call or text sometime,” I said boldly handing him his phone back. “I really enjoyed talking with you.”

Smiling I turned and and walked back to my house before he had the chance to say anything else.

Walking in our house I slipped my shoes off and placed them in the rack by the door. Stepping into the living room I sat down on the couch with a smile on my face thinking about the man I left outside and secretly hoping he was thinking about me too. Looking around I noticed David still wasn’t home and I got up to go look for Nicky.

Going down the hall I noticed his room was shut. I knocked lightly and put my ear up to the door to listen for a response. Not hearing anything I went to open the door only to find out it was locked.

“Nicky, you okay in there?” I called out softly knocking again.

There was a few minutes before I heard some movement, a click and then the door slowly opened. I was instantly hit with the smell of weed and I looked up to look into my brother’s puffy red eyes, both from getting high and crying. He turned around and slowly walked over to his bed sliding down and sitting on the floor leaning against it.

I followed and sat down next to him all the light happiness from before completely gone and the reality sinking back in.

“Please talk to me,” I pleaded with tears starting to form in my eyes. I hated seeing how much pain my brother was in.

“There’s nothing to say,” his voice was shaky, “I took someone’s life. I fucking killed a man Will!” His voice broke as he began sobbing again.

He leaned over laying his head in my lap and clutched onto me as he cried. Running my hand through his hair I tried to comfort him.

“Shhhh,” I soothed,” It’s going to be okay. We are going to get through this. Together. I will always be here for you.”

I gently grabbed his face and guided him to look at me. Looking him in the eyes I tried to keep my own tears from falling failing as I felt a few slip.

“You saved my life. Remember that, if you hadn’t been there, if you hadn’t protected me, I would be dead. I’m sorry you had to do that but I’m so thankful for what you did for me.”

He broke down even harder after my words laying his head back down holding me tighter than before.

“I’m so sorry Will.” He said between sobs. “It's all my fault. It’s all my fault.”

I stayed there running my hand through his hair until he started to calm down and his exhaustion took over. Once I could hear him snoring I broke completely. I sat there and started sobbing myself. My younger brother was so broken and there was nothing I could do to ease his pain and it was all because of what he had to do to save me.

I don’t even know who the man was other than he was a part of a gang, his tattoos telling us that much. I figured it must have been a random attack or maybe part of an initiation. I was in my apartment cleaning with my headphones on when the man must have broken in. I never heard anything and didn’t know someone was even with me til I walked into my kitchen and saw a man there. That’s when he attacked me. I have never been so scared in my life. Turns out the man was kind of a big deal in his gang and he wasn’t going to just go missing unnoticed. David thought it best to get out of there. If someone knew where he was going or if for some reason there was a hit out on me we would not be safe there or anywhere nearby anymore.

Exhausted, I leaned my head back against the bed and fell asleep almost instantly.

A bang from the living room startled me from my sleep. Gently moving Nicky’s head off my lap I slowly got up and made my way to the living room. Turning on the light I found David there picking up a stack of books that had fallen from a shelf that he must have ran into. Looking at the clock I saw it was two in the morning.

“Where have you been all day?” I questioned him annoyed. “We could have really used you here.”

Thinking of the state our baby brother was in I was pissed he wasn’t here to help me. I was starting to get the impression he was trying to avoid Nicky.

“Why? You and Nick need someone to get rid of a body again?” Sitting down he gruffly started untying his boots and taking them off chucking them to the side.

“That’s not fair.” I snapped crossing my arms defensively.

“Fair?” He huffed standing up and swiftly coming to stand right in front of me, “This whole situation ain’t fair sister. But fair doesn’t mean shit. It never has to you or Nicky. You have always expected me to clean up your messes, bail you out when you guys get into trouble, and boy does trouble always find you two!” His voice got louder as he continued. “You need to stop babying him! Maybe, maybe if you knew the whole truth you would….” he started to trail off catching himself before he said too much.

“The truth? What do you mean?” My anger turned to confusion. What could he mean by that?

“Nothing. I need a shower” He dismissed my question walking past me into the bathroom slamming the door behind him.

Sighing I turned the light back off going to Nicky’s room. Placing a blanket over him and a kiss to his forehead I then went to my own room closing my door slowly. Exhausted I undressed and crawled into bed under the covers. I layed there staring into the darkness thinking about the last twenty four hours. We would get through this together. Although it didn’t really feel like we were together anymore.

#mayans mc #ez reyes #mayans imagine #ez reyes imagine #ez reyes fanfic #mayans mc fanfic #runaways

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epicfales · 5 years ago

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When I hate My Body, I Remember What It Has Given Me

It is day twenty-seven of strict social distancing. I only know this for sure because I checked my most recent Instagram post, which says that two days ago was day twenty-five. Today is Wednesday, April 8, 2020. I only know this because I checked my watch. The days feel long and short at the same time, and I’m not sure how that can be. There are many things I’m unsure of, these days; and I trust that we all feel that way to some extent. This pandemic has shattered our collective sense of normalcy and routine, as it’s disrupted weddings, graduations, proms, birthdays, and funerals—rituals that many people cannot fathom living without. I cannot go another day without confessing what I know to be true: it’s easy to live without those things when you have no choice.

At some point over the past twenty-seven days—they all blend together—I was talking to my friend, Liv, who was impacted by cancer. I hate how people use words like “fighting” or “beating” when putting verbs alongside a beast like cancer. Because no verb in any language can describe the deeply physical, emotional, and spiritual experience of being sick in that way. Sometimes when I imagine her being pulled from what was her happy and blessedly normal life, I see her being dragged into an arena, and cancer is not the lion—she is the lion—and cancer is this dark amorphous force that engulfs her body. I imagine that she roars, and her voice is so strong that I can see the sound released from every fiber of her being, and then watch as her very essence tangles with that darkness. Other times, I imagine her as she is in a photograph: dressed as Muhammad Ali, strutting down a hospital hallway, bald and in a mask, donning boxing gloves and a cape, staring down the camera. Everyone felt the need to reassure her that even without hair, she was beautiful. This pisses me off, because they all confront that photo with the unconscious premise that hair is a vital part of the human body, and my God, do they not notice the cape?

The Muhammad Ali quote that she boldly posts alongside that photo: “I hated every minute of training, but I said, ‘Don’t quit. Suffer now and live the rest of your life as a champion.’’

I turn to my conversations with Liv in the moments when I feel most defeated. She is one of my only friends my age who knows what it’s like to be chronically sick—sick in a way that doesn’t get better. Our diseases are extraordinarily different, but our shared experiences unite us in a unique bond. Today, I feel a humiliating level of defeat. And of course, it’s all rather absurd, because today isn’t different from any other day. The catalyst for my defeat: a bike ride to the mailbox at the end of my dirt road. I can’t put the words together to confess how difficult this exercise was for me. I’m just too disappointed in myself, and too ashamed. It’s only a mile to the mailbox and a mile back, but the road is hilly, and the terrain is rough. I’m grateful no one saw me. What had begun as a leisurely ride quickly became the most difficult exercise I’ve done in memory. I pushed myself way further than I should have, and my endurance was fueled by a profound anger towards my body’s many inadequacies. It was also fueled by the simple fact that I had no choice but to keep going; I needed to get home, and putting one foot in front of the other was the only way to get there (at that point I was walking alongside the damn bike). When I finally collapsed onto the living room floor, I Facetimed my family in Kalamazoo . . . their first reaction was to laugh. I don’t blame them for this, because I really did look pathetic, and it always takes people a minute to switch from the superficial observation, “Jess is horribly out of shape” to the more somber realization, “Jess is sick”. Nevertheless, I put on an almost childlike tantrum as I raged against my body. I said to my body, “You are weak, and pathetically inadequate. I’m ashamed to look at you in the mirror. Your scars are ugly. You are undesirable. No one likes you.” We all know the guilt and remorse felt after being mean to someone who doesn’t deserve it. My poor body. It has endured so much for me, more than most bodies endure, and I’m ashamed of it. I forget that it has made me a champion.

There was a brief period at the beginning of the pandemic when the chronically ill imagined that the rest of the world would finally understand what it’s like to be us. We saw people voice dismay over missed sports games, over canceled proms, and over abandoned vacation plans. We hoped their dismay would turn into empathy, and we waited for them to realize that the sacrifices being asked of them are sacrifices that we’ve had to make for years. It quickly became evident that such empathy could not be expected. We watched from afar as young people descended upon Florida beaches, as friends took advantage of cheap airline tickets, as communities gathered at packed bars, and as people selfishly hoarded toilet paper and hand sanitizer. They will never know what it’s like to be us.

I’ve heard all sorts of justifications for the social shenanigans plastered across our Facebook timelines and Instagram feeds. Mostly, people claim they deserve such festivity, and the use their feelings of “missing out” to rationalize having a good time. There’s the infamous youth on spring break who went viral for saying, “If I get Corona, I get Corona. I’m not going to let it interfere with me partying.” What it comes down to is this: people believe they are entitled to undisrupted lives. Our culture is based on comfort, indulgences, and personal gratification. For many, the mandated social restrictions have quickly become the worst thing to ever happen to them. If social distancing is the worst thing to happen to us by the time this is all over, we will be incredibly blessed.

I could say that I wish we lived in a world where bad things didn’t happen to good people and where life was fair. But I don’t wish that. Not even a little bit. Life is often ruthless, unpredictable, and unjust. When my complex autoimmune disease caused me to go deaf five days before starting college, I involuntarily put my life on hold to get Cochlear implants; and when I recovered from that I then faced a series of dangerous infections over the years, as all immunocompromised people are prone to do. Liv learned she had Leukemia while on a school trip and had to drop everything to return to California for life-saving treatment—a treatment that went on to cause its own disease. Years later, few of our past dreams or expectations for life turned to reality. None of this is fair. Bad things happen to good people. Good things happen to bad people. And we are better for it. Having our lives spontaneously disrupted proves to us that life is hard but reminds us that we can do hard things.

When I was fifteen—before I got sick—I encountered a proverb that fundamentally challenged how I viewed the world: “Tell me what you need, and I will tell you how to live without it.” Sometimes I find myself randomly reciting those words, as a reminder to reevaluate my values and priorities. It’s amazing what we can live without. As this global health crisis unfolds, we are all forced to question what is necessary, and to make the distinction between comfort and survival. I pray that on the other side, we can all call ourselves champions.

#immunocompromised #autoimmune #Cancer #covid-19 #social distancing #priorities

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hiitshannahbananah · 6 years ago

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(Riverdale) Phanie 2.0 | Sweet Pea

Summary: Stephanie learns what it means to be under the Serpent's protection, with all it's pros and cons.

A/N: Okay....I Kind of got inspired

Warnings: Sexual harassment

Part 1

@iamaunicorn4704

It's been a week since Stephanie's visit at the Whyte Wyrme and things were just like they had been before. Jughead was still not talking to her, just with the difference that she was not calling or texting him either. Her visit at the Serpent's bar had proved to her that the last ten years were worth nothing and she was not going to spend more time running after him. It broke her heart, but she knew she had to get through that.

“Hey, stranger” Stephanie slowed down when she felt an arm wrapping around her own. Veronica Lodge was now walking next to her with a bright smile. “Hey V. Is everything alright? You seem...unusually happy” Veronica shrugged her shoulders lightly. “I'm good. I was thinking about some milkshakes after school. You in?” Honestly Steph missed the afternoons at Pop's with her friends. Until now she couldn't stand the fact that Jughead was still talking to all of them but not her. Another thing she knew she had to get over. “Sure. Why not. It's been a while” Veronica smiled even wider. “Great. Can't wait. I'll see you after last period” Stephanie shook her head as she watched her friend walk away.

When she left school that afternoon, she noticed it the first time. As she walked towards the school's parking spot, she saw a motorcycle standing at the other side. On it was the boy she had met that night in the bar. Sweet Pea. He sat there on his bike, eyes fixated on her, a cigarette stuck between his lips. Stephanie couldn't help herself but stare back. He was handsome. And Steph always had a thing for the bad boys. Not the wannabe bad boys at her school. The real deal.

“Steph! There you are! What....What is that South Side trash doing here” Archie had pulled Steph out of her trance and was about to approach Sweet Pea if it wasn't for her hands which held him back. “Just ignore him. He's not doing anything” She said and turned around and walked towards her car. “It's kinda creepy...the way he just stands there” Betty said as she got into the passenger seat while Archie and Veronica sat down on the backseat. “Yeah, I got chills. What do you think is he doing here?” V asked and turned around to look at the Serpent. “Nothing good, that's for sure. Those guys are always trouble” Archie said and Steph wanted to disagree. Tell them how Toni and Sweet Pea were kinda nice to her, but she stayed silent. Not seeing how she could out of that discussion ever again.

Sitting at Pop's with her friends felt freeing. The others knew about her situation with Jughead so they did everything to avoid this topic and keep the mood light. And they managed to actually distract Stephanie for the time being. For her this was like a well deserved vacation from reality. Making stupid jokes, talking about gossip and just being carefree teenagers eating burgers and drinking milkshakes.

“This is nice. Like...seriously. Thank you” Stephanie said genuinely as they paid their bills. “I needed this” “Of course, Steph. We're always here for you. You know that right?” Betty said with a sincere smile as she took her friend's hand and squeezed it. “Right. Doesn't make things easier but yeah” I felt Veronica hugging my side slightly before we all got up. “Does anybody need a ride home?” I offered but they declined and after we said our goodbyes I went to my car. And again I noticed. A motorcycle at the other side of the road across from Pop's.

What the hell was he doing?

And this went on for the following days and weeks. I only saw another Serpent two times. All the other times it was always Sweet Pea. And it was stressing me out. The constant feeling of being watched, even though I knew they weren't there all the time, it pissed me off.

“Call back your dogs!” The door of the trailer closed with a loud bang behind me and Jughead and Betty who were cuddled together on the couch jump. “What?” “Your all for muscles but no brains monkeys that are following me around for weeks now!” Jughead looked at Stephanie like she was holding a gun to his head. “Ohm...I'll give you two some privacy” Betty excused herself and went to the back of the trailer. “What are you talking about?” “That guy, Sweet Pea and some other snake! They keep following me around and watching me. It's fucking creepy” Steph kept on yelling. “Hey, Hey Steph. I have no idea what you're talking about, but I will confront Sweet Pea about this, okay?” Jug said calmly and made a few steps towards Steph, which she quickly stepped back, keeping distance between them. “Fine. Tell them if I find them lurking in the dark again, I will call the cops and press charges” Stephanie threats and turned around to leave. “See you tonight, Betty!” She yelled over her shoulder before closing the door behind her. “What's tonight?” Jug's voice was muffled through the door but she could still hear it as she walked down the stairs.

A few hours later Stephanie was in the middle of a High School party held at Reggie Mantle's place. His parents were out of town so like every Jock would do, he threw a party. Stephanie was dancing with Veronica, Josie, Melody and Valerie when there was an outraged roar and the music stopped suddenly. “What? That was my favourite song!” Val exclaimed disappointed and the girls turned around, looking to find the source why everything stopped so suddenly. And they soon found it. Betty had walked into the house. Followed by her boyfriend and a few of his new friends, all in their Serpent jackets. “I need something stronger than beer” Steph mumbled as she detected Sweet Pea in the group of Serpents and made her way to the kitchen. By the time she had poured herself a red cup of hard liquor the music was turned on again.

“You do realize it's not polite not to say hello, right?” Stephanie bit the inside of her cheek as she recognized the deep voice. “Well, you're one to talk” Her voice was cold as ice and the look on her face was just as cold when she turned around to face him. Sweet Pea stood in front of her, a proud smirk on his face like he hadn't been stalking her for the last few weeks. “Touché” His voice was so deep it was basically a growl. Steph emptied her cup in one swig, needing the alcohol running through her veins right now. “Why do you keep following me?” She asked boldly. Now that he was here, talking to her. She needed to know. “I told you the night we met. We're taking care of our family” “What does that even mean?” Steph was getting frustrated. All those weeks of being constantly followed and she needed answers now. “You're Jughead's family, and even though I don't like that little thug, he's one of ours. So we will protect you” He explained but it only created a bigger mess in her head. “I don't need your protection. And neither am I Jughead's family. Not anymore” Stephanie grabbed the liquor bottle she had just poured herself a drink from and left him in the kitchen. On her way she tried to talk to Veronica or Betty but both seemed quite occupied with their boyfriends, so she sat down in Reggie's garden alone with her bottle.

Everything that had happened that day had her riled up again. Visiting Jughead in his trailer, seeing him at the party and her encounter with Sweet Pea. The fact he mentioned that Jug was still her family, brought all kind of feelings to the surface. She knew that Jug was still family and he would always be family. It wasn't something you could just check out from. Well, you can. At least it's what her own father did when Steph was only a little kid. Leaving her mother and herself behind to start a new life with the waitress that worked at Pop's at the time. He left without a word and only a shitty letter.

An hour later Stephanie had emptied half the bottle and was more than just a little tipsy. “Well, look who we have here” When she looked up she saw the host himself approaching her. “Hey Reggie” Steph's words were already a slur, which Reggie noticed right away. “Whoa, how much did you drink?” He chuckled and sat down next to her. “Obviously not enough” She mumbled and took another swig straight from the bottle. “I see” Reggie smirked and took the bottle from her when she was finished and took a sip himself. “Why are you out here alone and not with us inside?” Stephanie shrugged her shoulders, which made her lean to the side a little, since her balance was infected by the amount of alcohol she had consumed. “Not really in the mood to dance, I guess” “Pity, the show you pulled before with the pussy cats, was fucking hot” He whispered and put his hand on her inner thigh.

Even though Stephanie was drunk, she knew where this was going. And she wasn't up for it. “Maybe I should find Veronica” She stumbled a little while standing up, which encouraged Reggie to grab her arms after also standing up. “Veronica left, probably to bang her ginger boyfriend” A dirty smirk was on his lips and suddenly Steph felt sick. “Then Betty” “Oh? Goody Two Shoes? She left basically right after she came. Left the trash though. But you don't need her. I can take care of you as well” Stephanie felt one of his hands gliding down her arm and then grabbing her hip. “Let me go” Her voice was barely a whisper. “What?” “I said...let. Me. Go” Steph's voice got louder, but there was nobody outside but them and the music inside was awfully loud. “Steph, can't you see. I'm trying to help you. You're so drunk you can't even stand straight” Deep down Stephanie knew he was right. She was too drunk to run. It was too loud for her to scream. Terrified. If there was one situation in her life, which would describe this feeling perfectly, it was this one. “Reggie, please let me go” Her voice was a whimper and she hated herself for sounding so weak. “And, why would I do that?”

“I'll give you a reason” Sweet Pea was slowly walking towards them. “And what is it to you, South Scum?” Reggie asked as his grip around Stephanie's arm and hip got firmer in his rage. “You're hurting me” She said and tried to free herself from his hands, but the pressure on her skin only increased. “I'll only say this once: Let her go” The Serpent was towering over Reggie by now, a look on his face that could murder someone. “Hm, alright. I'll let her go” Steph could see a nasty grin on the Bulldog's face before she was violently pushed to the ground. Her knees made a hard contact with the cobblestone ground that surrounded the pool. She could barely see a thing but the sounds that came from the boys proved a fist fight.

“Hey, Steph...Come on. Let's get you out of here” Sweet Pea carefully wrapped his hands around Stephanie's shoulders and helped her stand up. “That fucking...” When he saw your bleeding knees, he was about to go back and add some kicks to the punches he had just thrown at that pig, but a small hand that suddenly held onto his arm stopped him. “Don't...I don't think I...” Stephanie couldn't even finish her sentence before she felt Sweet Pea's arms picking her up. He carried her all the way to the street, right next to his bike. “I'm driving you home. I'll be careful, okay?” But Stephanie shook her head. “No...I can't go home to my mum like this” Sweet Pea ran his hand through his hair as he looked at the bleeding girl that was leaning against his bike.

Her make up was smudged, her eyes were watery and her arms were crossed over her chest while her hands stroked her upper arms. This was not the person he had met weeks ago at the bar. The person with a fucking inferno in their eyes. The person of punched a Serpent in the face, right in the snake's nest. The person he had been watching the last weeks. And he was glad he did, otherwise he probably wouldn't have offered what he was about to.

“Fine. I'll bring you to my place” He decided and handed her his helmet. “I've never been on a motorcycle before” Stephanie said as she watched him climb on top of it. “Doesn't matter. I'll do all of the work anyway” He smiled at her and took the helmet to put it on her head himself. She took his hand when she wobbly climbed up behind him. “Just hold on tight, alright? I'm not letting you fall” Sweet Pea felt her shifting closer to him until she was flushed against his back, her arms circling around him, seeking hold. “Sweet Pea?” His heart skipped a beat when he heard her say his name for the very first time. “Yeah?” There was a short silence. Sweet Pea feared that her words had been so silent he missed it. But then “Thank you” A genuine smile spread across his face, a smile not many people got to see. “As I said...you're family”

#riverdale #riverdale imagine #riverdale one shot #sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea one shot #imagine #one shot #reggie mantle #jughead jones

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