#I know I just gotta get through this but it Sucks

[princessbrunette]

MAY have been inspired by watching degrassi, but currently thinking abt bunny!reader convincing jj to fake date her in exchange for money which he happily accepts bc in his words he gets “free food, money, & a pretty girl” 😍😍

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

“so it’s a… piss off your parents type deal?” the blonde scratches the back of his head as you stand before him at the juice bar, off on the pogue side of the island he didn’t think he’d ever catch you dead on.

“mhm, precisely! i’ll pay for the dates n’stuff — s’just gotta be convincing so my dad gets off my back n’lets me make my own decisions.” without thinking, you lean forward — over-familiar and touchy with jj already as you reach for the straw in his smoothie and suck the juice up through it — blinking up at him innocently with fluffy lashes that just made you seem all the more doll like. something he had a hard time saying no to.

“so you’re tellin’ me, all i gotta do is be my dirty pogue self, take you out, eat free food n’hang out with a pretty girl?” he smirks, squinting off at the beach like he even had to think about it. “uh, yeah… yeah i am so in.”

you’d enveloped him in a bone crushing hug, and he knew he was gonna really have to practice self control and learn how to control his rampant hard m-ons when you’d press your tits to his chest like that.

the next few days were a blur of pink glitter and grabby hands. the routine was that he’d pick you up from your house, all smug smiles as he shakes your disgruntled parents hands— making an extra show to slide an arm around your waist as they watch the two of you leave the house for the day, even braving an ass grab sometimes which made you giggle and smack him. you’d praised him for putting on an excellent show, but truly he just loved touching you up.

you’d slid him your card beneath the table at the country club so he could pay for lunch, sticking out like a sore thumb anyway as he lounges back on the chair enjoying the free beers and sunshine. when your fathers friends would shoot disapproving looks across the club, you’d only be spitefully encouraged to come to jj’s side of the table and sit on his leg, pulling him in for a wet, glossy kiss with copious amounts of tongue and teeth clashing — the pogue taken aback but thrilled nonetheless, grabbing at you wherever he could.

“y’know, i could get used to this fake dating shit. chicks should be able to like, i’on know — rent me as their boyfriend. for money. i think i could make a good buck, dont ’ya think?” he chats happily, taking another sip of his beer once you’d finished making out. your head swivels back to him from where you’d been glaring over your shoulder at your fathers friends— looking back at the blonde with a pout.

“y’cant do that.” you whine, swinging your legs. he raises an eyebrow, fighting a smirk.

“nah? and whys that, sugartits?” he chuckles out the jokey nickname he’d developed to piss everyone off and you cast your doll eyes down at your nails.

“‘cos you’re my fake boyfriend.” you pur, leaning in a little.

“mhm, guess you’re right ‘bout that.” he smiles, eyes darting down to your mouth. “aw, you want another fake kiss?” you nod happily, and your lips collide. this time you don’t care so much if anyone’s watching.

୨♡୧ 🎀 ᰔ 🎀 ໒ྀི꒰ ◞ ‌ ◟ ꒱ྀིა

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

For your ask game ~ 📖 🦉 🔞

Worth the Risk - Jack Delroy/Reader

Warnings: Female reader, no use of Y/N, making out, almost fully clothed grinding, clothed fingering, bit of exhibition/voyeurism, vaginal sex.

Wordcount: 6317

Summary: He'd given you his card, invited you to the studio with the promise of a good time, and the show had been amazing for sure, but did the night really have to end once the cameras turned off?

Notes: I really wanted to write this the other day but I was too sleepy and went to bed early y'know like a baby 😖 anyways I've been wanting to do a sequel to Susceptible since I first posted it and somehow it ended up even longer so this is for you hehe hope you enjoy~ 💗💗💗

Wait for me by the back entrance at 11:00 Phil will let you in JD

You don’t know how many times you’d looked at the card he handed you since that night, but the corners were starting to bend and the pen marks were beginning to smudge, just a little. You forced yourself to leave it be as you checked your appearance one last time, the mirror by the front door to your apartment offering its final encouragement as you decided there was nothing left you could do to delay your departure before you were late. As soon as you were out the door you had to resist the urge to sprint, your heels sending muffled echoes down the hall as you headed straight for the elevator, a kindly old woman holding it for you with a smile. 

You had the sense to call a cab early so you wouldn’t have to risk waiting and missing your 11PM deadline, the car stalling right outside the door as you waved to the driver and got inside. ‘Fiske Studios, please,’ you tell him, the small building owned by a branch of UBC now very well known thanks to a certain Mr. Midnight. Your leg bounced the entire way there, the card once again in your hands as you stared out the window, neighbourhoods giving way to open city streets, more cars circling around you like a school of fish. You hated driving in the city, it was the main reason why you dedicated so much of your paycheck to cabs, but tonight you were starting to wish you’d driven yourself as you hit the tenth red light in a row.

The driver sensed your anxiousness as you bit your lip for just a split second before your purse was opened and your lipstick was uncapped, the tiny mirror in your hand reassuring you that it’d be fine, you looked great, it was an easy fix. ‘Hot date tonight?’ he asked over his shoulder, his voice startling you a little as you snapped the mirror shut again.

‘Uh, going to a live show, actually,’ you said cautiously, avoiding a yes or no to his question; it’d be too presumptuous to say yes, but god if you didn’t want to hope. ‘I’m meeting a few friends there, don’t wanna be late and all.’

‘Oh, well, girl’s gotta have some fun on a Friday night, I guess,’ he said as he looked you over in the rearview, your coat pulled a little tighter over your shoulders as you forced a smile and tried not to look to disgusted; this was yet another reason why you were so fond of Jack Delroy, he’d never make you feel that way, what with him being such a gentleman and all.

The memory of the night you met made you shiver briefly as the hallucination flashed through your mind again, the false feeling of his hands on you having haunted you all week. You sucked in a very long breath through your nose as you willed the pink to leave your cheeks again, the last thing you needed right now was this guy seeing you get covered in goosebumps and assume it was because of what he’d said. You actually hadn’t been able to watch Night Owls since that night, feeling almost guilty about it even though there was no way he would know you hadn’t seen all the exciting things he’d been talking about. You’d tried last night, but as soon as the wall had opened and he’d strolled on out with that smile and his eyes instantly finding the camera you’d become a right mess way too fast and had to turn it off again, your heart pounding and your legs pressed uncomfortably tight together just at the sight of him.

Goddamn you Carmichael Haig.

The studio came into view with the latest turn and you readied yourself to get out, money already in hand by the time the car had stopped. The bill was settled and you stepped out into the cool night air, cutting off the driver’s wish for you to have a good night with the slamming of the door, and you took a look around and tried to guess which way would lead to the back door he’d mentioned. You waited until the car was out of sight, pretending to see your ‘friends’ so it wouldn’t look like you were about to walk down a dark alley by yourself, another deep breath exhaled sharply as you summoned up all of your courage and headed to the right.

It was a large alley, big enough for a car to drive down and reach the parking lot out back, which thankfully held just as many people walking about as the front did. A lot of them favoured a large, metal door up a tiny flight of stairs, keycards flashed to unlock it before it was held open for several people at a time, everyone helping each other in the most efficient of ways. You had no idea which one Phil was supposed to be, and if you waited too long you might get pinned as a fan trying to sneak in, so the next time someone approached the area you were lurking in you got the card back out and held it out to him.

‘Um, I’m supposed to find Phil?’ you said uncertainly, the man looking you over before taking the card. ‘Ja- Mr. Delroy told me to meet him here.’

‘How’d you meet Jack?’ he asked, clearly recognizing the handwriting but wanting to be certain all the same as he handed it back to you.

‘At Carmichael Haig’s show, we got to talk for a little bit,’ you explained, your nerves starting to rise the longer you were out there, the paranoia that you wouldn’t be able to get in starting to rise in your chest.

‘Ohhh, so you’re the one he was telling Gus about,’ the man said with a grin, your back straightening at the very thought of Jack talking about you with anyone, let alone with someone in a public place. ‘Yeah, he told me to expect someone, I’ll take you up there now if you help me carry something, save me a trip?’

You agreed to his terms, the man apparently being Phil as he shook your hand and handed you the box he was balancing on one arm as you talked. He quickly jogged back to his car to grab another box before returning to you, the door held open for you both as you squeezed past another employee and followed him through the maze of hallways and way too many doors to count. The studio itself was actually on the second floor, the first dedicated to offices and meeting rooms and other businessy things, the elevator able to just barely let you both cram inside as everyone got ready for the taping.

‘Is it always this hectic?’ you asked before you realized you were even opening your mouth, Phil just laughing and adjusting his box.

‘Every single night.’

Once the elevator had pinged and the doors had slid open, Phil then led you through a few more hallways until he pushed through a locked STAFF ONLY door, even more people on the other side, although there was more to the area back here, your eyes widening when it hit you that this was the back of Jack’s set. Phil noticed your excitement and set his box down on the nearest table, taking yours in another swift movement before motioning towards the slightly ajar wall panel; the audience’s seats were just in view through the crack, some people already coming in and finding their spots, and you were just in the middle of wondering if you should attempt finding an empty one when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

You turned to see Jack standing behind you, a look of pure bliss on his face as he watched the band get ready, Gus talking to someone and going over scripts off to the right, the few audience members chatting with each other as they guessed what they’d see that night. He truly loved this job, you could tell he did even after doing it for so many years, and seeing him so in love only made you love him even more. He looked down at you then, a fondness in his eyes as he gave your shoulder a squeeze and led you around back, a little tour before you had to leave him.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he admitted as you took everything in, everyone shifting their gaze towards the both of you as long as they thought they could get away with it. ‘Been looking forward to tonight all week, what did you think of the lineup?’

‘I, uh-’ you trailed off as he pulled you out of the way of a staff member carrying the requested items for tonight’s guest, your coat suddenly feeling way too warm to still be wearing inside. ‘I missed out on them, actually, been a busy week,’ you lied, avoiding his face as your cheeks lit up; you were not about to tell him that it was because looking at him made you remember how he’d felt pressed up against your waist, even if it was fake.

A shiver ran up your spine as you then realized that the heat against your back very much wasn’t however.

‘I’ll have to tell you all about it later, don’t want you missing out on anything,’ he said with a grin, your lips trembling as you tried to keep your smile from getting any bigger. There was no way he’d actually do that, he had to be too busy to entertain you when the PMs turned to AMs, but it was a nice thought indeed.

‘I’d like that,’ you admitted either way, happy to live in the fantasy for just a little bit at least.

‘Jack!’ someone called from just out of sight, a curly-haired man in sunglasses hunting him down with expert precision as he hurried over. ‘Gus just told me you’ve been saving seats all week, you wanna explain why that is?’

‘And there’s my cue,’ he whispers in your ear before using your shoulders to turn you and guide you back to the slit in the wall. ‘Middle front row, furthest left seat,’ he whispered before pushing you to the other side, his attention turned to his producer as he descended upon him for losing them money. You listened for just a second before it hit you that you were there, you were really there, your mouth dropping open as you slowly spun to check out the Night Owls set. People were whispering about who you might be but you didn’t care, not leaving until you heard Gus clear his throat and ask what you were doing.

‘Finding my seat,’ you mumbled, although maybe it had come out as nonsense in your delighted stupor, you couldn’t be sure at the moment.

‘Okay, do you have a ticket?’ he asked, still so polite even though he was very much confused. You just held up the card again, your eyes going higher as you stared at all the lights. ‘I see, so you’re the one he’s been waiting for, right this way.’

The one he’s been waiting for? Clearly you must’ve misheard, Jack Delroy couldn’t possibly have been that excited for you, you’d only spoken for maybe five minutes, tops.

Gus led you to your seat and you instantly sank into it, a 40 minute wait still ahead of you but it felt like no time at all as the rows all filled up and people slowly stopped walking across the set to prepare. On either side of you, cameramen took their places and lined up their shots, the blue screen of the viewfinder catching your attention as you couldn’t help but see what they saw. Gus got himself ready by the band, who were all tuned up and ready to go, and when midnight hit and Gus started calling out that night’s guests, you couldn’t help but bite your lip again as Jack’s name was announced and the wall opened up again to reveal him.

He’d been right, it was an incredible show, his presence so much more overwhelming as you could only focus on him no matter who he stood or sat beside. Every single one of his jokes landed, every eccentric wave of his hands drew you in without fail, and every single smile he shot your way when you laughed only confirmed more and more that you were genuinely glad you came. He tried to talk to you during the breaks but each time he’d been interrupted either by one of his co-workers or someone in the audience ready to snatch up his attention, Jack too polite to refuse either, although it was honestly starting to make you a little jealous.

Before you knew it, his hour had passed and he was saying goodbye, your chest deflating as he was played out again along with his final guest, your hands a little numb as you gave him his well deserved applause. You didn’t want to get up and leave as the rest of the people around you did without hesitation, a chorus of yawns starting to infect everyone like a virus now that it was officially bedtime. You were rooted to the spot, hands clasped in your lap as you wondered if it’d be too presumptuous to assume that maybe he’d come back out again when everyone was gone, wish you your own personal goodnight, people staring again as you waited until you accepted that you’d fulfilled his request, there was no need to stay now.

‘Oh good, you’re still here,’ Jack panted as he jogged over to you, a sheen on his cheeks and forehead from the excitement of the night mixed in with the hot stage lights, ‘I was worried you’d leave when Leo grabbed me just now.’ 

‘I’m in no hurry,’ you told him as you stood, your clasped hands hiding behind your back so he wouldn’t see you fidgeting. ‘It was a great show, I had a lot of fun tonight.’

His smile turned from Showman Jack to Genuine Jack at that, your ability to always tell coming in handy yet again as you tried to hide your blush by tucking your hair behind your ear. ‘I take it you had a more enjoyable time with me than at Haig’s, then?’ he asked, your blushing deepening at his choice of words.

‘I did, yeah.’ Everyone was packing up for the night around you, no one giving you a passing glance as the desire to get home and sleep overtook their curiosity, and when he stifled a yawn you couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty at keeping him. ‘All good things must come to an end though, I suppose; I should really get heading back, it’ll be a nightmare to find a cab this late.’ You didn’t want to go, but you also didn’t want to press your luck either, and maybe you’d get another invitation to another show, who knew?

‘I could give you a ride, if you wanted,’ he offered, completely catching you off guard as your eyes widened for a second in surprise. ‘Or, if you’re truly a night owl like me, you’d prefer to join me for a drink? I always grab one after a show, can’t sleep otherwise.’

You swallowed, mouth cotton dry as you went over his offer in your head a few times; was he asking you out on a date? He had to have been, who else went out to get a drink together at 1AM other than people on dates, right? ‘Yeah, a drink sounds great,’ you finally managed to squeak out, the corners of his eyes scrunching when he smiled before offering his arm for you to take, a true gentleman. He led you back through the labyrinth until you reached the parking lot, his car parked in a spot with his name plastered against the wall behind it, most of the other cars already gone now that their owners were free.

His car was simple, nothing too flashy like someone else in his position would own, the seats worn on the inside and telling you that he must’ve had it for many years. You tried not to look too nervous as he unlocked his door and let himself in, his long body stretching across the front so he could unlock the passenger side as well; an old car indeed, he was taking very good care of it for it to still look that good. You thanked him as you sat down and shut the door, the smell of his cologne stealing your breath away as you were surrounded by purely him, the faint smell of smoke mixing in with it, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried not to look too obvious.

He shot you a glance as he clicked his seatbelt into place, the noise making you come back to your senses and do the same so he could start driving. There were quite a few bars around there, some late night diners as well, and you grew more and more confused as he drove by all of them without a word. By the time you left the city and started to head towards a more residential area, you were starting to wonder if you were going for a drink at all, not remembering ever telling him where you lived, of course this neighborhood was much too nice, maybe you should be flattered if he thought you lived around here.

‘Are we still…?’ you tried to ask, your question dying out as he then turned into the driveway of a very nice but modestly sized house, all the lights off inside telling you that no one was home. He didn’t turn off the engine though, his eyes on the wheel before he turned to you, a hopeful something in his eyes that mirrored your own.

‘Would you like to come inside? Or should we try calling that cab?’ he asked you gently, giving you the choice of what you wanted to do now that you knew where you’d be drinking, your heart thumping a little faster as you adjusted the strap of your purse and flashed him the most confident smile you could muster.

‘You did promise to tell me all about the shows I miss,’ you reminded him, Jack’s smile softening as he agreed with a, ‘Yes I did.’ The engine shut off and you both exited the car, the night air making you shiver as you held your coat a little tighter over your arms. He noticed immediately, his suit jacket draped over you before you could confirm or deny you wanted it, heat spreading throughout you as the scent of his cologne hit you even harder. You wrapped yourself up in it, face tucked into the collar as you headed for his front door, always a few steps behind until he unlocked the door and pushed it open, allowing you to go in first.

It was a modest place, decorated more cozily than anything, and you felt right at home as you stepped inside and took a look around; the walls held photos of family and friends, his coworkers and people he’d met through Night Owls spaced out around them, the surfaces of every table and shelf decorated with something and filling the space while also feeling sparse. Cozy was definitely the right word, but it also felt like a bachelor pad in the way he’d left clothes draped over the back of the couch, how the kitchen was pristinely clean from rare use based on the amount of menus he’d collected into the holder by his phone, and the dedicated minibar off in the corner so he could entertain guests.

He headed there now as you observed your surroundings, his voice breaking your thoughts as he asked you to pick your poison. You gave him your desired drink request, Jack’s eyes shining as he located the bottle amongst the plethora of them in his reserve, whisky placed next to it as he located a couple of glasses next. ‘Ice?’ he asked casually as he poured both drinks, you kindly refusing as he grabbed a couple for himself. The ice crackled in his glass as he returned, the sound pleasant to you and filling the air as he handed you your drink. ‘I’d offer you a seat at the table, but my back is killing me tonight, if you’d rather join me on the couch?’

What a liar, you could always tell when he was acting. You accepted anyways, pretending to buy into it as you both took opposite ends of the old leather couch situated in front of his fireplace. The cushions creaked underneath as you sat down, Jack letting out a sigh that didn’t sound fake as he relaxed, his body sinking right in before he took a sip and turned to look at you. You blushed and looked away, focusing on your glass as you swirled the contents around, now wishing for ice since watching it would be a good distraction.

You’d been so focused on his home that it was starting to dawn on you that you were in his home, on his couch, drinking his liquor, his focus on nothing and no one other than you. ‘Dreamer, here, awake,’ you whispered softly under your breath, remembering what Haig had said to snap you out of it and needing to make sure this wasn’t just another dream.

‘What was that?’

Oh god, it wasn’t a dream, you were really here, and his arm was now on the back of the couch, casually reaching towards you as he tilted his head to the side with an amused grin. 

‘So, how did the shows that I missed go?’ you quickly choked out, Jack chuckling at how your voice sounded way more broken than you’d wanted before downing the rest of his drink and setting the empty glass on the coffee table in front of him.

‘Well, on Monday I got to interview someone about his upcoming play, so that was interesting,’ he began, his body turned more towards you as he spoke. ‘On Tuesday, we had a man who sailed halfway around the world and narrowly survived being shipwrecked, and he read us an excerpt from his captain’s log, which he revealed he’ll be turning into a book to preserve the memories of his shipmates.’ He slid a little down the leather, genuine interest in his eyes as he spoke, that another thing you loved about him. ‘Wednesday was Game Night, as you know, and one of our audience members managed to win the jackpot and gave us a victory dance to celebrate. Gus tried to attempt it and fell on his ass, so everyone made me try it and I nearly crashed into my stage, everyone had a lot of fun that night.

His voice started to soften as he moved a little closer, your body frozen in both awe at what you’d missed and also the sight of him starting to fill up your entire view, your drink forgotten in your hands.

‘And then on Thursday we took a call from a man who thought he had superpowers, can you believe that? He truly believed he got them from another dimension, so fascinating.’ He was just about to slide over the middle cushion, your legs pressing tightly together so you wouldn’t touch him on accident, your lip worried between your teeth again. ‘I asked him to come on the show, but he hung up, I hope he calls again next week.’ His arm was completely behind you you finally noticed as his thumb brushed against your shoulder just enough for you to feel it over your coat and his suit jacket, the heat of both starting to make you sweat as he stayed just outside your personal space, ever the gentleman as he waited for you to tell him to back up. 

You didn’t, your tongue darting out and tasting your lipstick as you glanced to the side, seeing just enough of him to know that he didn’t look dangerous, or overly sexual like your fantasy had been, his actual expression one of wonder as he remained just out of reach. You felt like you had to comment on his week, say something in response to what he was telling you but you couldn’t, the sound of his thumb running over the fabric directly in your ear as you finally took your first sip.

‘Sounds like I missed a lot,’ you eventually said, Jack nodding and shifting as he got comfier, the movement sending him a little closer to you. ‘Maybe you should invite me back again, I could probably make time for that.’

‘I’ll have to see if I can get you an actual ticket this time, then, Leo was very unhappy I snuck you in.’ His voice was so low as you took another, bigger sip, his arm sliding off the back of the couch and just barely resting against the very bottom of your neck.

‘Is that what that was? I’ll be sure to use the front door next time.’ Another sip, his other hand in plain sight on his thigh as it traveled down towards you. 

‘I think I’d prefer to escort you in myself, so you don’t get lost, it’s like a maze in there.’ You watched his hand just barely touch the hem of his jacket, a soft hum leaving his throat as his eyes half-lidded. ‘You look good in this, I might have to let you borrow it more often.’

‘You assume I’ll need it again? How presumptuous of you,’ you joked in an attempt to keep things light, but it fell flat as you looked at him while you said it, his expression rendering you speechless in seconds. Now that you were facing him he couldn’t resist the urge to touch your cheek, his fingertips just barely brushing against you and making you shut your eyes as you tried to lean against them, the contact causing shivers to run down your spine at how incredibly gentle it was.

‘I really am glad you came tonight,’ he whispered as he leaned in, breath soft against your face as you both held off from closing the gap, ‘god, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.’

You nearly dropped the glass, Jack placing his hand over yours to make sure you didn’t before taking it away entirely. ‘Y-you’re just telling me what I wanna hear,’ you repeated from your fantasy, Jack leaning away to set the glass down before letting his forehead rest against your own.

‘Is it working?’

You grabbed onto his tie and pulled him into you, your mouths crashing together as you kissed him with all the need of someone who’d wanted this for years. He braced himself on the back of the couch as you leaned against the arm, your body arching up as he rearranged how he was sitting to kneel over you. He wasn’t as forward as your fantasy, which was understandable considering you knew very well that he’d only acted the exact way you wanted, but instead you discovered that he was slow, making as many points of contact as he could while giving you space. He was obsessed with kissing away the rest of your lipstick but he never tried to take more than you were giving him, your bodies still too far apart as he caressed you.

‘You’re so beautiful,’ he repeated as his hand left your jaw to travel down to your hip, not to hold down or make you keen but just to feel the soft curve of your body; he was committing you to memory, tracing over each wrinkle in the fabric, each place that made you squirm just a little.

‘Jack…’ you sighed as he pushed both coats aside to gently kiss at your neck, small things that made you want beyond the sweetness, the love. ‘Don’t make me wait anymore, please…’

He pressed a single kiss to your jaw at that, sitting back just enough so he could look at your face. You turned away, embarrassed by your neediness, but he turned you back to him with only a whisper of a touch, a plea instead of a command. ‘How long have you been waiting?’ he asked, lips hovering just above yours, pulling away when you tried to close the gap.

‘Years.’

He kissed you again, a little rougher this time as his own need was made clear, his body shifting down until he was laying himself on top of you, and for however real your fantasy had felt, it was fucking nothing compared to the weight of him pressing pure want directly into your waist. It made you gasp how good he felt, your legs spreading until your skirt wouldn’t stretch any further, the desire to hike it up all the way so you could feel him a little better making you almost actually do it. It was him who made that move when he felt you struggling, your legs pressed into his almost uncomfortably, and he placed his hands at the hem and waited for your okay, not wanting to do anything without your permission.

What a fucking gentleman.

You nodded and he lifted your skirt, your back arching off the couch so it could be bunched up, your underwear on display just the smallest amount before your skirt was let go. That small amount made him blush, his lips parting as he then palmed himself to ease the strain of his own clothes, his nice suit pulled taut over his dick as he kneaded. It made you want him even more, the fantasies of seeing him like that deciding to play like the world’s longest and lewdest film in your mind, reminding you of every single thing you wanted to do to him, what you wanted him to do to you.

‘I want to feel you,’ you told him, his eyes fluttering shut like the quicktalking showman Mr. Midnight couldn’t handle a bit of dirty talk; he was so cute it almost hurt as he moved his hand aside for you, granting you access to the space while he tried to undo his belt. You rubbed him over his pants, listening to the sounds he was making and letting your desire grow with each one, and when his belt was undone and his zipper was down you tugged just his pants over his hips just enough to show off his bulge a little better. It strained over the opening, the sight so tantalizing that you’d risk staying hypnotized forever if this really was just another dream, his body laying down over yours again as you wrapped your leg around him.

He started to grind against you, the fantasy definitely not doing him justice as a sinful heat warmed you up in an instant, the coats much too hot as you tried to strip them both off. He helped you but didn’t stop moving, each thrust just enough to create the best friction you’d ever experienced. There was no audience this time, no one to risk ruining this for you, and you took full advantage of that as you let out a deviously loud moan when he rubbed against you just right. 

‘God…’ he panted into your neck, hips moving just a little faster, and it felt good but it wasn’t what you wanted, not entirely. You reached down between where your bodies touched to try and get a hold of his boxers, your nails catching over the waistband just out of reach. He felt your attempts and knew what you were trying to do, his face unsure even though he still couldn’t stop. ‘Are you sure?’ he needed to know, his hips finally stilling for the most part, your eyes watering with how much you meant it as you told him yes. He groaned as he reached between your legs, feeling your wetness seeping through your panties as you moved against him, your head instantly falling back.

The sounds you let out were indecent, he wasn’t even inside you yet and he was making you fall apart just because it was him who was doing this, his fingers rewriting your brain and telling you that you’d never be able to get off on just your imagination ever again. He played with you as his other hand pushed his boxers down the rest of the way, his dick falling free and making him hiss as he gave himself a few strokes, the sound getting you to look up. Your legs twitched as you almost came just from the sight alone, his eyes shut tight as his head lolled to the side, his impressive length looking even bigger in his hand as he got himself ready.

As soon as he felt your eyes on him he locked onto you, his big, showman smile showing a little more teeth than usual as he let you watch, his own sounds almost addicting as he let you know exactly how good his own hand felt. Between the sight and his hands making the both of you feel good, you didn’t know how much more you could take of this before you were shoving him down, Jack sensing your desperation and leaning back over you. He pulled aside your panties and rubbed you a couple more times before pressing his waist against yours, spreading your wetness along the underside of his shaft, grinding against you this way until you were practically begging him to do more, please.

He chuckled at your reaction before taking himself in hand again, spreading it even more before holding himself up to your entrance, one last chance to back out. You made sure to lock eyes with him as you grabbed his tie and pulled him down to you once more, your mouth falling open as he pushed deep inside of you the more you pulled. You didn’t stop until you were full, the two of you panting into each other's mouth before he started to move, both of your legs wrapping around him this time as you tried to take him even deeper.

It was hot, you were sweating, you could see the sheen on his cheeks and forehead again as he suffered in the almost entirety of his suit versus your outfit, and you helped him relieve some of his suffering as you started to unbutton his shirt. You shoved it off one shoulder before he was tearing it off of himself and tossing it away, your own shirt pushed up to reveal a heaving stomach, muscles working hard under the flesh as he thrust into you, your body unable to move with him thanks to the arm of the couch keeping you in place.

It ensured he always hit the deepest part of you since your body couldn’t shift away, one of your hands on your stomach while the other took his own and placed it on your chest. He began to knead you over your bra, it soon out of the way as he yanked it down and wrapped his mouth around a nipple, his motions speeding up a bit as you tangled your now free hand into his hair. ‘You feel so good,’ you couldn’t stop yourself from saying then, starting to get overstimulated, and at your words he jerked a little erratically, like it’d made him stumble. ‘You- you were so handsome tonight, did so well, I couldn’t stop staring at you…’

He was moaning nonsense into your chest as you praised him, something about what you were saying making him fall apart; his head rested against you as he rutted into you with wild abandon, your hands just holding him there as you kept whispering what he wanted to hear. You meant it, every word, but to know that this much was making him practically whine against you was also addicting, needing him to know everything you felt for him, how proud you were of him, how you’d never be able to feel anyone but him for the rest of your life.

‘Come inside me, make me yours, I want to be yours,’ you pleaded, Jack grasping at you like a drowning man grasps at his saviour, a few more thrusts making your head fall back before he did just that. His hips jutted a few more times as warmth filled your insides, the sensation mixed with his broken gasps bringing you over the edge as well, his nails digging into your flesh where he held you, your hands thoroughly messing up his perfectly styled hair. When he was done he collapsed against you, his weight once again so incredibly nice as he pinned you against the cushions, the leather sticking to your skin and keeping you very much in place.

‘If I’m too heavy-’ he started to say before he shifted and cut himself off with a whine, his attempts to get up thwarted immediately.

‘You’re not,’ you reassured him, your fingers attempting to straighten his hair back into place, a small courtesy for him letting you grab him so hard in the first place. ‘We can just… stay a while.’

‘Do you wanna risk that? I might fall asleep on you like this,’ he asked like it’d be a bad thing; what a gentleman.

‘I think that’d be worth the risk,’ you told him as you kissed his forehead, Jack reaching up to cup your cheek before gathering all his strength to kiss you goodnight.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.117 The other shoe

We started the night at a bar in a fancy rooftop hotel in San Myshuno. Sophia and I didn't bother dressing up because our only goal was to meet the man that had my sister all googly-eyed, and that didn't involve nice clothes. Jace Laurent was his name. He was from Tartosa and frequented the bar where we had the party. His fancy job title didn't fool me once he explained the role. He said he was a nano-simfluencer for a company called Trend Team. Apparently, he was heavily into fashion and was seeking the attention of brands on social media so he could score an endorsement deal. Basically, he was unemployed. True, I was technically unemployed too, but at least I left home and come back with money like normal working sims.

But after a while, I had to admit he wasn't as much of a schmuck as I thought he'd be. He was definitely weird, but seemed like he'd be kinda fun to hang out with once we got to know each other better.

"Would you stop grilling him??" Alessia shouted.

"I'm not grilling! I'm just trying to get to know him. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah, but stop with the 20 Questions!"

"How else am I supposed to get to know him, Less??"

Like, seriously! What was up with her? First she yelled at Sophia on Winterfest for trying to stay in the conversation and get to know her, and now this? I hoped ol' dude was up to handle her moods because if I couldn't win with her, no one could.

"Don't mind her," Jace said. "She's just a little pregnant."

"I'm sorry...WHAT?!"

His proud, smug face melted into discomfort and mortification.

"Oh no...she didn't tell you."

"We're in love, Luca," Alessia shouted. "I asked him to move in."

So many questions buzzed around my brain like a swarm of bees, but the frustration flowing through my veins was stronger than the urge to get answers. I was so done with this seemingly endless stream of accidental pregnancies around me! The mere thought of another person turning up pregnant ignited a fiery anger within me so intense I could almost taste it. Okay…I wouldn't actually resort to violence, but the urge to lash out, to release my pent-up frustration, was as real as all these unborn babies in my life.

"We have to go," I said, getting up from the table.

Alessia yelled after us, questioning our abrupt departure, but I didn't care. My only goal was to seek shelter in the safety of my home because the fortress I built around my emotions had finally been breached. Falling apart was imminent now. As soon as I crossed the threshold, the pressure that had been building up all week erupted from my mouth as I hollered. I never felt so out of control before. I paced, tugged on my hair, and screamed some more. Sophia stood off to the side for a moment, watching, allowing me to get it out, but then she marched up to me and embraced me tightly as if she were trying to squeeze hope back into me. We collapsed onto the couch and cried together. I probably should have waited to tell her about my hospital visit, but how much more could it hurt? We were already at the bottom.

"Sophia," I said through my tears, "I gotta tell you something."

She sat up to hear my story and wiped my face.

"I went to the doctor. That's where I was earlier... I have low fertility too. I'm so sorry!"

To my surprise, she didn't sink deeper into despair, like I thought she would. She held my hand and showed me the most incredible display of bravery I had ever seen.

"Awwwww, Luca! Are you okay? This isn't your fault. It's no one's fault. It just...is."

I knew she was right, but life really sucked at the moment, and I didn't know how to withstand against all those blows anymore. I thought I was strong enough, but now my wife had to hold me up.

"It's just not fair," I yelled. "Alessia, Yasmine...and even Dub! None of them were trying to get pregnant! Why won't it happen for us? I feel like we're being punished for something, but I don't know what it is! I just want to start a family with you. What's so bad about that?? I've done everything to stay positive and hopeful, but I can't do it anymore! I can't do it, Sophia!"

She wiped my tears and tried to soothe me, telling me it was going to be okay, just like I did for her at the beginning of all this.

"Hey...listen...we can't give up yet, babe. We've got one more trick up our sleeve! How about tomorrow I do the IVF? Forget those treatments!"

"Are you sure? That's surgery."

"It's outpatient. This is my last chance to carry my own child. I have to take it."

"Okay. But only if you want to. I'm fine with adoption if you change your mind, but...I really hope it works."

"Me too."

[bteezxyewriter12]

Annoyed Series

Hobi

Pairing- Hobi x Named Reader

Word count- 916 Words

Includes- Everything is consensual, established relationship, sex from behind, mirror sex, name calling (slut, whore), squirting, fluff

Tag List- @mingtina @jaxminnie @yeosayang @delightfulmoonbanana @tannie13 @y00nzin0 @marsstarxhwa

@borntowalkaway @soulseobi05 @kpop-bambi @seokwoosmole @meowmeowminnie @realisticnotes @effielumiere @svnbangtansworld @pinkies-things @insomniacatiny @amyz78 @marvelfamily3000

Masterlists- check out for more fics

📝Annoyed Series Masterlist

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📝BTS Masterlist

📝Hobi Masterlist

"Come on Jo!", I snap, glaring at her, You seriously fucked up again?"

"Hobi!", she whines, "I'm not a dancing machine like you ok! It takes me time to memorize the steps"

"We've been practicing for two hours!"

She keeps messing up once specific set of moves which I purposely made easy for her

We tried to do it super slow, then fast, then we just went through the routine, hoping she'd get it right

But no

And I'm getting frustrated

"Well maybe you just suck as a dance teacher!", she shouts

I look at her in pure annoyance, pissed that she has the nerve to say that to my face

Especially when she knows how hard I worked on this choreography for us, trying not to make it complicated so she can do it with me for the video

"Take that back", I growl

"No!", she exclaims, glaring at me, "It's not my fault you don't know how to be a good teacher"

I snarl, moving towards her

Her eyes widen as she backs up, her back hitting the mirror

I move my hands on either side of her head, leaning down, right in her face

"Take it back now", I say dangerously

"No", she challenges, a dare in her eyes

Ok then

Grabbing her, I turn her around, pulling her against me

I gotta admit, she's hot when she's defiant even though she's pissing me off

"If you think I'm so bad at teaching, I'll show you what I am good at", I snarl, pulling her pants and panties down

She whimpers, taking everything off, then pressing her ass against my hard on right away

"Oh I guess you want me to show you how good I can fuck you huh?"

"Yes", she says desperately as I get my pants and boxers down

"What a slut. Just the mention of my dick and you become my personal whore"

"Mm Hobi", she whines, pushing her ass against my hard dick

Pushing her against the mirror, she turns her head, her cheek against the glass, her hands flat on the mirror on either side of her head

Pulling her ass out to bend her, I align my cock to her hole, pushing inside, my length immediately flooded by her juice

"So wet already huh?", I growl, her pussy enveloping me tightly, throbbing around my shaft, feeling utterly good

"Yes Hobi. Always wet for your cock", she moans

"I know", I tell her, burying in her to the hilt, "So tight for me, always so good for me"

She nods, her eyes closing

Pulling out, I start fucking her hard, her legs shaking with each thrust

"Hoseok", she cries, her body shuddering against the mirror

Pounding into her, I split her little cunt around my cock, my head rubbing her spot constantly, creaming my length so it coats every inch

She clenches down on my cock with each stroke, sending bliss exploding in my body

Fuck, she just feels so fucking good

Threading my fingers in her hair, I pull her head up and back, pressing my lips to her neck

She shivers, taking my cock like I belong inside her

Which I do

I move my free hand under her shirt, pulling her bra down, my hand around her boob, squeezing

"Open your eyes", I whisper in her ear, then kiss the crook of her neck, just as I pinch her nipple

"Fuck", she whimpers, her back arching

"Watch me fuck you"

Moving us backwards, I stop when her arms are fully extended, her hands still on the mirror

As are her eyes

I fuck into her, watching her watch us

"Do you see how wet your pussy is?", I murmur, "Look at you dripping. Making a big mess all over my cock and the floor"

Her eyes shift down, widening when she sees the small puddle on the floor

She's so wet it's pouring out of her

"See how good I wreck you on my cock?"

She nods, biting her lip

"That's one thing I'm fucking good at", I growl, "And you? You're good at taking my cock up this cunt and whining for more"

"I want more", she whimpers, "Harder Hobi"

I oblige, moving my hips harder and faster, destroying her little pussy, her spasms increasing

"Hobi please", she begs, "Gonna cum"

"So cum", I demand, pinching her nipple as I thrust into her

"Fuck Hoseok!", she screams, her pussy gushing squirt all over

Ecstasy slams into me as I fuck her through her orgasm, her pussy sucking my cock almost as good as her mouth

I'm gonna cum right now

"Joanne, baby!", I moan, burying inside her and shooting my cum into her milking pussy, "Yes baby. Oh god"

The pleasure is so much, my body shaking as I cling onto her

I pull out when I finish and she turns around immediately, her arms around my neck, pulling me into a kiss

I smile into it before kissing her back, my arms around her waist, holding her close to me

"You don't suck as a teacher", she says, laying her head on my chest after we pull away, "I was just saying-"

"Because you were frustrated. I know baby. I know you didn't mean it", I assure her, kissing the top of her head

"I'm sorry"

"It's ok baby. I promise", I answer her

"Wanna try it again?", she asks

"Yeah baby. First let's clean up then we can practice some more"

[thezombieprostitute]

A Change is Coming

💐Send a whole bouquet!💐Write a surprise drabble or create a moodboard for them. 

This is an idea I had floating around and I don’t know if I’ll ever get to use it on a full fic so I will dress it up in daisies for you, dearest Zombie. Hoping it isn't too dark or bloody.

Warnings: Injury and Blood.

You never thought you’d be a runner. How often did you see those people in their short shorts and loose tanks, toned legs and sweaty foreheads, bouncing with their earbuds in, arms pumping, knees lifting. You could never be one of them... 

Well, now you are. It’s a change. A big change. One long-needed. One made out of fear and panic. 

You have to get healthier. You have to try. You’re starting to feel your age, really, you feel beyond it.  

You tried other things. Yoga was too slow and breathy. Weight-training a bit too heavy and too much. And the gym in general sent you running with sore muscles and no less self-esteem issues. 

Running. Rather, jogging. You’re starting off easy. A slow pace through the trail. You don’t need to worry about the gym bros and their judgment or the girls in their tight leggings filming for Tiktok. It’s just you and nature and oof, your knees! 

Two weeks now. That’s an achievement. Sort of. Two weeks but you gotta keep it up. No time to start patting yourself on the back until you see results. 

Your breath is harried and burning. Your fitbit buzzes at you, slow down. You ease up as you come up and incline. Your thighs are on fire. You wait until you reach another dip before you speed up again. Your heart pumps hotly and you feel that odd calm that comes at your peak. You feel almost good. You feel-- 

Something catches your ankle. Something you couldn’t see as you kept your eyes six feet ahead. At first, the pain doesn’t occur to you, not as you’re sent stumbling forward, crashing, arms flailing as you land on the leaf-strewn trail.  

You lay on your stomach, panting. You groan and roll over, sitting up as you spot the obstruction that tripped you up. A wire tied across the path. It can’t be a coincidence. It’s a trap. 

You look down at your ankle, the one that met the wire. You nearly scream as you see the gash and how your foot hangs to one side. Then you feel it. Your adrenaline courses but cannot numb the agony that creeps up from your injured leg. You hardly feel the scrapes all over your arms and knees as you stare at the torn flesh. 

You babble dumbly. What do you do? How do you get out of here? You’re too afraid to move. Oh god. What’s happened to you? Why you? 

Your hands shake as you hold them before you in shock. You hear a rustle of leaves and the wire slackens. You blink and stair as a man walks across the path, winding it up around his hand. He turns to face you as he unhooks it from the other side. 

He tuts as he comes closer, looming over you. He wears a hoodie and a beanie, a dark stubbly beard across his jaw and cheeks, his blue eyes the only bright thing about him. He tilts his head and squat before you as he examines your ankle with a suck of his teeth. 

“Yikes, that really did a number on you,” he comments, “won’t be walking this one off.” 

You whimper, terrified. He’s unfazed by the sight of your blood. In fact, he’s not bothered at all by the scene before him. By the way he holds the wire, you know he set it up. 

He looks you in the face and tilts his head, “you’re not the one I wanted...” he pulls the knapsack off his shoulder and tucks away the wire inside, “but you’ll do.” 

He swings the bag over his back and moves over you. You cower as he bends to hook his arms under yours. He braces you, the smell of the forest clinging to him. 

“Now, you wanna keep your weight off the right foot, so work with me,” he girds, “you’ll be better off if you do everything I say.” 

You shudder and suck in air as he makes you stand. Your toe hits the ground and jars your ankle. You yelp and cling to him out of instinct. 

“Keep that foot up, sweetheart,” he warns as he turns to stretch his arm across your back, “we got a long way to go.” 

Thanks so much for this, Roo! I really appreciate it!

Is it bad that my first thought is "he's selling me to Kemp!" 😅

Kemp has to back out of the chase for a while, too familiar to too many people. So he hires a few people to do his hunting for him. He doesn't care how they get the girls so long as the girls are alive and pretty.

So Curtis relies on his trapper skills. He finds his prey, gets her usual routine figured out, and sets his trap. But he catches you instead. Pretty enough, Curtis thinks. Can still get my payday.

The trek back to his truck is, of course, slow and painful. You vomit at least once from the pain. Sitting in the truck doesn't help much, either. At least he's got some medical supplies there and starts treating the ankle though you throw up again from the pain.

By the time you get to your destination much of the shock has worn off and the tears are flowing. He helps you limp inside. You know you should scream, try to fight, something, anything but with how casually he treats your pain you get the impression he could make it so much worse without care.

When you're sitting down again, your captor calls out for someone named Kemp. Kemp walks in, sees you and says, "I said 'pretty' girls, Curtis. I'm not buying this one."

"She's pretty enough for your clients. You can always sell her parts with someone else's photo."

"I have a reputation to keep amongst my clients. One hint that they're not getting what they ordered I could be ruined."

"Fine, just pay me half but you're keeping her."

Kemp considers you. "She does seem rather docile. Maybe I could find another use for her besides meat."

Should the story continue? 😆

[raksh-writes]

Gosh, Im turning 25 today not 65 so why does it feel like my body feel is gonna fall apart at any moment? 😩

[inkedberries]

you're in her dms, im on her carrd dni. we are not the same

[m1d-45]

i gobbled and devoured the post imposter things. scrumptious!! but what if poor little xiao man feels guilty for hunting or scarring us in the hunt? and please don’t feel obligated to answer, i know you’re busy

burden to bear

word count: 2.7k

-> warnings: spoilers for liyue archon quest, canon typical violence…. minor body horror? blood mention.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay

< masterlist >

during the hunt itself, xiao is driven by a need to prove himself, pushing past his instinct and the way his karma flares around the one on the throne. he sees it as a way to redeem himself, to finally scrape some of the sin off his hands. it’s a way to prove himself, and one he takes eagerly.

it’s not correct to say he’s blinded by faith, but it’s not exactly wrong either. he definitely feels, subconsciously, that something’s… off, maybe, about his god. perhaps it’s the way his vision always seems to flutter and flare, or the ice in his veins when the command to hunt is given. he feels uneasy, unsettled, finding himself rolling his shoulders and wondering if he needed to add more stretches into his routines. and yet, despite the tension in his shoulders and the twist in his stomach, he kneels, bowing his head with a swear of fealty that goes unanswered.

unacknowledged.

perhaps he had delivered it wrong?

he doesn’t think much of it, quickly dissolving from the throne room and appearing besides the statue of the seven on the west edge of liyue. looking out over jueyun karst, he knows it’s a bit fruitless to start his search there due to the vicinity to the other adepti, but the spires there are tall, filled with wiry bushes and crags of rock that are easier to hide in than may seem at first glance.

he draws his pole arm, spinning it once over his hand before tapping the end to the stone beneath him. he’s not sure why he’s so nervous—is it the fact that this is technically the first order he’s been given? is it the idea of slaughtering somebody so identical to his creator that it nearly fooled morax, who’s been alive longer than he could fathom?

or is it simply the prospect of failure?

xiao grits his teeth and steps off the edge of the floating stone, halting his fall with anemo at nearly the last possible moment.

his feelings meant nothing. orders were given, and he had to follow them.

why else was he there, if he couldn’t?

it takes him longer than he expected to find you. he’s almost impressed, really, that you managed to evade his searching eyes, that you dodged not only him but the other adepti as well, all without taking refuge in any villages or otherwise civilized areas due to the orders the millelith put out. you hid well, he could attest to that, and though he was the one to find you, it was only on accident.

he was clearing out a group of hilichurls north of the inn. he was surprised so many had settled so close to the statue of the seven, as hilichurls usually avoided concentrated elemental energy, but didn’t think too hard about it. he simply unhooked his mask from his belt, noticing the difference in strength between these hilichurls and the average, and teleported into the middle of the camp.

the first thing he heard was a spotter’s cry. the second was the mitachurls’—archons, there were three—roar as they hefted their weapons. the final one was the intricate chanting of the abyss, but not any incantation he recognized.

he kept himself half in smoke as he danced around the edge of the camp, taking out the archers while he tried to find the abyss mage. he could catch glimpses of hydro bubbles through the walls of the hut, but the steps were covered in frost-

he barely ducked under the swing of a mitachurl’s axe, slashing his spear along its side as he slipped away, darting across the path of one charging with a large stone shield. it clipped his shoulder despite his efforts, pain spiking down his arm, but he didn’t pay attention to the injurh. normally he wouldn’t be this distracted, but two abyss mages and three mitachurls in one camp could only spell bad news. the best he could likely do was to leave and grab back-up, but who? the millelith were busy, morax and the adepti were on their own search…

xiao quickly climbed onto the roof of the hut, jamming his spear between two of the logs to keep grip on the woven roofing. the grass was damp, squishing uber this feet, likely from whatever hydro magic the mage was busy with within it. it likely wasn’t the smartest idea to stand on the roof, but this area of liyue was mostly plains, with little cover from the charging mitachurls. he needed a moment, if only a short one, to hash out a plan to deal with the camp.

the three mitachurls were standing besides the hut, two with shields and one with a crackling axe, electro dancing along the blade. xiao shifted, pivoting around the peak of the hut to move away from that one, the grass roof squishing below his feet.

the mitachurl’s ear twitched.

he shoved himself off the roof just as the mitachurl slammed the flat of its blade onto the roof, the whole shack shaking. electricity swarmed across the waterlogged roofing, reaching the opposite edge just as xiao dropped off it, landing between the other two mitachurls. they didn’t charge, nor attack, their motivations only made clear when the hiss of cryo froze out the lingering moisture in the air in front of him, effectively boxing him in.

the abyss mage swayed in its circle, staff glowing a sharp blue from within its bubble of frost.

“leave, adeptus,” it hissed, waving its staff in a circle. “you have no place here.”

xiao didn’t reply, instead picking apart his options. he couldn’t do significant damage to the shield mitachurls without utilizing his burst to destroy their shields, but that didn’t cover the mage at all… and he was still wet from the roof, so the mage would be able to freeze him within the time he had drawn in enough anemo energy to wield his mask with any level of efficiency…

he flexed his hand around his polearm. how had he gotten into this situation? his only options were to get lucky or teleport away, but even the latter of those relied on the first.

luck. how useless was he, to rely on luck-?

“‘adeptus’?”

the abyss mage startled at the voice, the cryo it had been swirling dissipating. both he and it turned to the side, to the entrance to the hut, where a figure could be seen just beyond the mitachurl.

his first instinct was that it was his god, and he briefly relaxed under the knowledge that he’d get out of this in mostly one piece.

his second was to recognize the torn clothing and dirt-smeared skin, and realize that you could never be his god.

xiao’s eyes narrowed, his spear twisting towards you faster than the distracted mage could react. you, his target, the one he had been seeking out, were hiding behind the abyss. he should have expected it, in truth, figured out the one known for going against the rules of nature would side with the most unnatural force, but that was not for now.

not now, when he was launched forward by the power of anemo, his spear driving him forward, barely skimming the mitachurl in favor of his true target: you.

your eyes barely had the chance to dart in his direction.

xiao was, in truth, not the first one to see you.

many villagers had glimpsed you running around the outskirts of their villages, plucking apples and sunsettias off trees and taking mint from their gardens and leaving bundles of sweet flowers behind instead. they’d seen you, face half-covered in a poor mask made of scraps, your clothes that of the haphazard stitches of the hilichurls, which helped you blend into teyvat a bit more at the price of comfort. many had seen you and assumed you were a run of the mill thief, perhaps one taking advantage of the current hunt since the millelith were occupied. they wryly called you clever, warning the traveling merchants about you, the one they glimpsed at inane hours of night.

he wasn’t the first to see you, by far. he was, however, the first to recognize you.

he was the first to lay eyes upon your form and realize the truth, to realize that the blood seeping into your clothes was the color of stars and galaxies, to recognize that your heart beat blue.

the argument could be made that the hilichurls were the first, or perhaps the mages that had taken you in and brought you food, but it was not them that gathered you into their arms and whisked you away in a flash of teal, uncaring of the spike of cryo that drove into their side at the last minute. the hilichurls did not walk with frosted-over limbs, the abyss did not cry with a throat full of ice, calling for assistance in undoing their own crime.

xiao couldn’t decide whether it was lucky or not that baizhu was in the pharmacy, speaking with herbalist gui over the front desk. on one hand, it was best to have the most experienced healer in liyue at your side, but on the other..

“adeptus xiao, what is-…..”

confusion, then anger, then realization, all flashing over his face in an instant before he tilted his head and walked quickly to a back room, xiao following.

he busied himself with picking the ice off his body and clothes, ignoring the shake of his hands and the stench of blood in the room. the mage had pulled you from the point of his spear, but he still hit the side of your stomach, and he could tell it was messy.

knocks sounded at the door but baizhu turned them away sharply, only allowing qiqi to pass him a bowl of lotus seeds. he was focused, changsheng slithering off his shoulders to grab supplies as needed. time seemed to slow to a crawl, like xiao had entered a domain without an exit, filled with the iron smell of blood and the never ending chips of ice he peeled from his skin. it left behind stinging wounds and red marks, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

what was his brief moment of injury compared to a scar upon his god?

the moment that baizhu had stopped, all but collapsing into a chair and wiping off his hands with a tired call of ‘it’s done. the foundation will be okay.’ xiao had stood and left, biting his tongue through the protests of both his own body and the doctor.

he’d given changsheng his confession, but he did not wish to stick around and hear his verdict.

weeks later, morax came and visited him at the inn, carrying with him a plate of almond tofu and an apology. xiao leaned against the furthest edge of the balcony, curled around the plate, staying as far as he could from the one with your aura imprinted upon him.

he felt it, when zhongli had first come up the stairs. the shock, then the warmth, the all-encompassing comfort that soothed the pain from the bruising on his shoulder. he felt it, and knew that he did not deserve it.

“it’s not your fault,” zhongli insisted, baritone words colored with unreturned sympathy. “the fake… had fooled us all. even me. i cannot hold your actions against you when i myself would have done the same.”

and maybe that was true. maybe he would have drawn his own weapon, pierced your skin himself, acting on the orders of one who dared to take the place of the divine, but that was irrelevant.

xiao was the one who had hurt you. and it was entirely his fault.

almond tofu, his favorite dish, tasted bitter and sour on his tongue, almost akin to the pain medication that zhongli had made him drink after noticing how cautious he was with his injured arm. he’d made him take the first dose in front of him and swear to take the rest, with a long monologue about taking care of himself tacked on afterwards, but it was for nothing. aside from the first night he had it, xiao hadn’t touched the bottle. it sat on his nightstand, beside a bed he hardly used, taunting him when he returned earlier than usual.

he could take it. there was nothing stopping him from doing so, and he probably should if he wanted to return to his duties quicker. but every time he picked up the glass, thumb tracing over the engravings as he undid the top, he hesitated.

he could take it. he probably should. but did he deserve to?

you were still recovering, possibly still bedridden weeks later. your blood still stained his spear, dripping down to his palms, pale and scarred skin marked further with the blue and purple swirls of his sin. you were still in pain, still healing from a spear to your side, and he was here, reaching for medicine for a sore shoulder?

(it was worse than that. bone had knocked against bone, bruising beneath where muscle could reach. it ached even when he sat as still as possible, dragging him out of every attempt to meditate. the dark purple splotches stretched beyond his clothing, reaching across his back and up his neck, making nearly any action flare the wound. it was far beyond an over-exerted muscle or a particularly tiring day, and yet even the worst nights of his pain were staved off by the memory of having to wash blue off his blade. even as the latch on the bottle was undone, the lip pressed to his, he could never bring himself to drink it)

(even the small droplet of it on the rim, tasting of qingxin extract and violet grass, threatened to make him sick. how dare he?)

yes, it would likely only get him into more trouble were he found out, but he was careful not to be. whenever the wind brought him the heavy presence of geo, zhongli’s familiar footsteps climbing the stairs, he snatched the bottle and emptied it into the stone carving on the balcony, letting the medicine soak into the soil beneath it. it splashed when he was sloppy, the deep purple medicine appearing blue on the stone, sparking a memory that weighed harder on the pit in his stomach.

even as he handed the bottle over to zhongli, his jaw clenched from the strain on his shoulder. the action was stiff, jerky, but evidently smooth enough that it had passed his assessment.

zhongli tucked the bottle away, surprisingly not drawing out a new one.

“i am proud of you, and of the progress you have made,” he said, golden eyes softening in the light of dusk. “well done, xiao.”

how strange, he thought, watching him leave, that the very action that made his vision swim with unshed tears was one that was praised.

he wouldn’t complain, of course. he never would. this pain was his to bear, just as the burden of your bloodshed was his to shoulder. he was well aware his pain could never take back yours—though he wished, desperately, that he could move your injury to him. he wanted to be able to take on the physical reminder of his defect, to take the hit of his own spear to spare you from his lapse in judgement. he would take it, take ten times the pain you endured, if only it meant that your skin was free of his scars.

it would be an honor to assist the divine, even at the price of his own life.

[gideonisms]

See I think if I'd been born a guy I wouldn't be this pathologically avoidant trying to plan my career because there are plenty of situations you can find as a cis man where you just Do Tasks in awkward silence and you can get to those as a woman but you have to go through the rings of hell socializing first and then besides, a lot of those jobs already have so many men that you stand out when the whole point was you Don't want to do that

[whumpacabra]

The Target

Angst, back from the dead, memory loss, amnesia, guilt, implied past abandonment, referenced past captivity and torture, referenced past illness, therapy mention

[Directly follows Tea]

The set up was cliche for a reason: it worked. No fancy equipment, as few moving parts as possible, and complete deniability. Jackson had taken the target to a small tea shop in the heart of the city. Crowded but not too busy. Bribing the waiter to sit the pair behind her table was easy.

The hard part was resisting the urge to turn around and look at him -

(She needed to be patient. Even if it was her Wolf back from the dead, she wasn’t sure her presence would be soothing.)

(…)

(If it was her Wolf, if Ghost had left him for dead, if he had survived all these years - would he hate her? Would he forgive Ghost?)

“You’re looking well, East.”

“Thanks. Helps to not be half dead and sick as a dog.”

The voice was…wrong. Too gravelly, too low - the accent though, the cadence of his words…oh, how desperately she wanted to believe it was him. A waiter brought her the tea she had ordered, creamy and warm and sweet. She didn’t have the stomach for it, thinking about the target behind her.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately. I know it must have been a…rough adjustment.”

The man behind Liza scoffed.

“It’s been…an adjustment, to be sure.” He sighed, voice softening. “But I’m…doing better. Thanks to you - ”

“Oh, don’t you dare give me credit. That’s all you. And Nate, of course. I just dropped you at the door and left.”

“You didn’t have to. Help me, I mean.” East clearly meant to elaborate, but a waiter came by to take their order. Liza forced herself to swallow a few sips of her drink. She told herself she didn’t shiver at his coffee order - it didn’t mean anything, anyone could enjoy black coffee and four sugar cubes without milk.

“Speaking of, helping you, how’s Judy been?”

“Helpful.” The word was clipped and professional, but East worked some levity into his voice as he continued. “Starting to feel like a real person again.”

“I’m glad.” The warmth in Jackson’s voice almost took Liza off guard. So sickeningly tender and genuine. “You have no idea how relieved I am that you’re - ”

He cut himself off, their drinks served by an unwitting waiter. There was the clatter of tea cups and coffee mugs and sugar stirred with honey.

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“I know - it’s still good.”

“How can you tell with it burning your tastebuds off?” Jackson’s amused huff and East’s chuckling sigh only made the pang of nostalgia all the louder in Liza’s heart. Wolf (her Wolf) never waited for his coffee to cool; too impatient to wait - he always claimed it tasted worse once it cooled to a drinkable temperature.

“I’m glad you’re back, Jackson.” East’s voice was still warm, but there was a tension under his words. “How have you been? Is everything…alright?”

“Fine. I’m doing just fine - happy to be home, if I’m quite honest.” Jackson’s reply was immediate and open, but dreadfully vague. “Everything’s just fine.”

Liza couldn’t see East’s reaction behind her, but whatever it was compelled Jackson to continue. She could almost see him, in her mind’s eye: her Wolf…a decade younger, face pinched in worry - always worried - and eyes bright with determined preparation for every scenario.

“Things are dying down. Americans are keeping to themselves for once, and it’s looking like a cold case.” Jackson’s voice was almost too quiet to hear, but Liza could practically feel the tension bleed from the man behind her. “Almost out of the woods - just some finalized paperwork and seals of approval.”

“And what happens…after?”

Liza stared down at her tea, trying to picture it. The great and terrifying Ghost - who swore off apprentices after losing his first, his last - being told the man that was practically his son had survived. (Had been abandoned.) Wolf - who went through a hell at the hands of the enemy, who spent years abandoned and alone - survived and he could come home. (To a stranger in his room and the dog he loved long dead.)

(Her one regret in her life burned bright in her throat - oh, how he would have loved to meet Casey. How different things could have been if Wolf was around to protect her boy.)

“After…we get you home.”

“Which is?” East (Wolf?)’s whisper was hoarse, laced with a sad desperation that broke Liza’s heart. Jackson had told her he might have - she didn’t really think, she hoped -

(She was a fool, always blinded by hope and it’s empty promises.)

“I - I thought you said things were going well with Judy - ”

“Nevermind. Your tea’s getting cold.“ It was like a switch had flipped, words suddenly steady and strong. Whatever fledgling hope Liza had that this was her Wolf, that he could come home, died in her chest.

(Wolf hadn’t had a home to come back to in along time.)

“Hey, I just - East…it’s fine. We said it would probably take some time. We’re not in any rush - ”

“You seem to be.” There was a thin bite to the words, defensive but still smothered in that muted parody of nonchalance. “I don’t know. I don’t really want to. It sucks to think about. I thought maybe you…figured something out that I couldn’t.”

“East…love, I - ”

“It’s fine. I like my job. I like my friends. Think Al and I might get a flat together - rent’s too high to not have roommates in this economy.” East’s sigh was decisive, a harsh swallow before he continued. “I just - God, fuck - I like my life right now. And I don’t want to leave it all behind. But I know - I don’t know - what you need or, or want me to do in return for - ”

“Nothing. East, I’m not here to take you away I just - I didn’t know if you had somewhere else you’d rather be. But, if you’re happy here…I don’t see any reason for you to leave.”

“Really?”

(Why did the relief in his voice sound so much like a nail in the empty coffin they buried for him?)

Liza wanted to get sick; she stood up a bit too quickly, chair bumping into the man behind her. She pulled on the mask of a stranger, perfect and apologetic and calm, and looked a dead man in the eye.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry - ”

“No worries.”

Her heart dropped to her feet, his polite glance failing to betray recognition, even though she knew that face and those eyes so well, even a decade removed -

(He looked so much older than she remembered him. Tired. Contented. Scarred and worn by time and it’s ravages. Where was the soldier more boy than man she remembered? Where was his fiery eyes and burning passion? Where was his fight?)

(…)

(Was it better, she wondered, for him to live a life without that fight, that fire in his heart? God knew how it had burned her and everyone else who knew him when it was snuffed out.)

Liza took her leave, heart in her throat.

—

“Did you - ?”

“I don’t know him. This was a waste of my time.”

“I’m sorry - ”

“I’m sure you are.” Liza let her voice soften as she looked out at the rain hitting her hotel window. She sighed into the phone, speaking before she could regret it. “Agent Jackson?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know this Wolf of yours, but it sounds like he’s having a pretty good life.” She almost paused, almost stopped to consider telling him the truth before deciding better of it. Liza was far more comfortable in a lie. “Don’t fuck it up looking for something he doesn’t need found.”

“…Thank you, Liza.”

She snapped the phone closed, and closed her eyes, remembering the face she knew on a man who didn’t know her.

It wasn’t worth unburying that empty casket. It wasn’t worth uprooting a good, clean civilian life. It wasn’t worth opening old wounds. Wolf was dead, as he had been for a decade. Liza needed to make sure he stayed dead, and that East stayed alive and well and untainted by the world he left behind.

[Before Smoke Break]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

Taglist: @stargeode @sacredwrath @genuineformality

[moregraceful]

accidentally invented a new form of no bedtime called 11pm glass of emergency-c + 4pm latte + 8pm cup of black tea + 9pm cup of black tea

[greens-spilled-tea]

Don't fucking send anon hate it's really that simple.

And if you find yourself in the situation where you got anon hate or a hurtful anon (even if it wasn't necessarily anon hate), I'm sorry that happened to you.

Honestly, things may not have been worded the best and wishing harm on someone else is not okay, but also yall are really taking things that someone said in a moment of intense emotion way too personally.

I'm not saying it's okay to wish harm on someone. Isolation and ostracization are so incredibly traumatic experiences for anyone to go through. I've been there.

But also, it kind of looks like yall are literally trying to find things to be mad at now. Instead of acknowledging that someone said something in the heat of being upset or triggered, you... what? Further demonize them? Show how awful they are for having an emotional response to a death threat?

It's a very emotionally charged situation. People were and are hurt on all sides of this.

Can we at least put those differences aside to try to help each other for once instead of constantly tearing each other down?

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

Sam & Wes would like your attention 🔊🔊🔊

[skeletalheartattack]

how do you feel about the new tf2 leaks?

Oh it big sucks!

listen, this leak honestly makes me so mad im not even joking. not because of like, leaks like this cause so much trouble for the developers who own them (in how to combat it), or for the source licencees who are affected by the leak, but WHO it affects in this community.

say you've been working a beta recreation of 2Fort from Trailer 2 (since it's the version with the most footage), you've been working on it in your spare time for the past... 6 years lets say. you know the ins and outs of this map, you've watched footage and studied screenshots from around August 2006, and you've made an intense list of all the eras of 2Fort to ensure you have a timeline of eras so you know which to avoid and such.

so your beta 2Fort recreation is as accurate it can be from all the public media you could find from it. you've even gotten the sewers to be as low as they were in the beta combined with the higher water. there's some things left to your interpretation of the map, since the sewers have never been shown for example, and you push it out for people to play around on. this was basically your hobby for the past 6 years, and it meant so much to you to be able to create something with a love you can't put to words.

suddenly. the worst thing imaginable. a month after you post it? an entire developer repo leaks. and lets pretend it's got that version of 2Fort intact. that's a serious gut punch BUT, then you get comments from folks like "oh the actual 2fort leaked" "this is obsolete now" "oh well a recreation couldn't ever top a leak". it's demoralizing. it breaks their spirit for something they worked so hard on. the one thing you loved working on? well seemingly it doesn't matter now to the community you painstakingly made it for.

that's what hurts for me, is the people who've created content based off of things from TF2 (like the Spellcasters Witch), whom have made it from scratch, added their own personal touches like different outfits and hairstyles, to the ability to allow the user to recolour every part of that outfit. then a leak comes along and it seems everyone's ferally knashing their teeth at this leak. no leak can ever come close to the kind of love community members put into stuff.

that's why i hate this leak. and even with the 60 gigabytes of stuff that's leaked? people are still like "oh well this doesn't have everything 🙄". like sorry 60GB wasn't enough for you?

i hope we never see a TF2 leak again. this shit sucks and i hate the community around it.

[toastsnaffler]

okay can we have a new rule that if you're my friend and know I struggle with rsd from adhd + you're planning on hanging out with mutual friends but specifically aren't inviting me for whatever reason. Maybe Don't Tell Me About It

[dredshirtroberts]

yeah guys idk I'm just thinking maybe the lightheadedness and desire to sit down about halfway through putting away groceries my whole life might not have just been a reaction to the way my parents were when i was a kid and the accompanying anxiety and sudden flurry of movement, but also possibly maybe i have a Health Thing about this...