#LIKE 20-30 MINS TOPS

[sinnabee]

fucking;;;; vibrates in i want to post this art SO fucking bad but it’s not done!!!!! it’s nOT

but i love how it’s turning out so so so so much an auuuguguguhh i just need it to complete itself because i have to be responsible and SLEEP i don’t have TIME to do this rn-

[g0dtier]

yall i went to a medieval fantasy fair festival thing for the first time of my life and definitely had some kind of sexual awakening at 28 years old

[the-physicality]

can't sleep so looking at time on ice stats. nice to see mtl back to its usual flow. toronto on the other hand why are you top loading more than is typical?

[dinopant]

im still sooo sad the interview for my last job fell through, the interview went great! he wanted to do a follow up and he really seemed to like me

but they just told me there was a mix up and they thought they had more hours to offer to hire another person but actually couldnt

it was a mix up and whatever, but man, i went out there twice and reached out a few times myself because i really wanted to work there and it felt really promising it was just very disappointing

[maraschinotopped]

another naq gif... this one gave me quite a bit of trouble because i realized a little too late that ezgif simply doesnt render low opacity onto transparent. so i got uh. the above instead of a proper glow effect :T

[disengaged]

had to turn down an invite to a party cuz the elevator in my building is being shut down overnight for repairs & i’m trapped in my apartment bc i physically cannot climb 14 flights of stairs

[haileys-out2]

I’ve been told to make this caption from one of my photos (yes this is me in the photo). I have no control over any of this, I’ve been told what tags to use and how long the post is to be pinned to the top of my page. 😥

The post is up for three months (until June 8) and I am scared about how long I’ll get!!

P-p-please be nice. I d-d-don’t want my life ruined!! 😭😭😭

Update. If this post hits 100 REBLOGS I have to get a larger plug and dildo.

Update 2. You are all mean (specially @count-alta with your 20-odd reblogs)😤😭😭 I now have to get a larger plug and dildo. If it gets to 300 REBLOGS then I have to make a Discord server to show that I am in fact wearing the cage and plug 😭😭😭😭 this is getting both out of control and expensive

Update 3. It hasn’t even been a week. 😢😢 I’ve been instructed to add note milestones. I��ve only been given a couple for now but more will be added if any of you suggest something my dominant likes.

Update 4. I’m back from a brief hiatus from Tumblr while I settled into a new job, and I discovered that this post really took off. I now have to make discord (coming soon) and I’ve been given a new Reblog MILESTONE. If this post reaches 500 Reblogs I will have to start HRT. If it hits 1000 Reblogs then I have to find a man to fuck me on camera 😭😭😭😭. Please be nice.

Update 5: whelp it’s done. My Discord server is live

1500 notes: I have to keep myself hairless from the nose down.

1700 notes: Make an Amazon Wishlist and add 100 toys and clothes for anyone to buy. Anyone who buys them will get a free show with what they bought

1800 notes: my hair must be grown out

2000 notes: I have to resume my BambiSleeps regimen

2500 notes: Practice deepthroating the current sized dildo twice a week

2750 notes: I now have listen to Bambi sleeps every morning, afternoon and night on my days off

3000 notes: Sit on a 7-inch dildo 2 times a week for 30 min

3250 notes: I have to start using she/her pronouns

3500 notes: I have start wearing a bra everyday

3750 notes: Use a large plug now

4000 notes: I have to start an OF (ManyVids and webcamming as well once I find a better living arrangement)

4250: I have to film myself suck cock

4500 notes: i can only ever cum from anal

5000 notes: I can only wear androgynous clothing. Nothing overtly masculine

5100 notes: Sit on an 8-inch dildo 3 times a week for 30 min

5400 notes: Listen to Bambisleep hypno every time I do anal

6000 notes: edge with a Hitachi magic wand for 30 once a week

6500 notes: start using a ball gag whenever I do anal

7100 notes: Once a week I have to film myself anal training and share it to the discord channel

8000 notes: Sit on a 9-inch dildo 4 times a week for 30 min

8500 notes: I must listen to ALL hypno that is sent to me

9000 notes: The Hitachi edging session becomes twice a week

12300 notes: Clicker train myself to get horny to the thought of cock

13200 notes: Use an XL plug now

13500 notes: Only use 10-inch toys from now on sit on it 6 times a week for 30 min, once a week use a 12+ inch toy

15000 notes: I have to get either bottom surgery or an orchiectomy

20000 notes: I have to be spit roasted

25000 notes: I have to be the center of a Blow Bang

32500 notes: I have to be the center of a Gangbang 😳😳😳

[thefantasyden]

Insecurities with Minho

Chubby AFAB reader + Minho drabble.

Request: insecurities, asphyxiation, creampie and eye contact.

He shouldn't be eavesdropping. It's common courtesy, and you have every right to want privacy when talking to your friends. He simply couldn't understand why that friend had to be Chan.

He's almost embarrassed as he stands outside of the door to Chans room, carefully tuning in to the conversation you were having.

"I don't know, I honestly don't think he likes me that much?" Your voice rings clear in his head, and it's setting off alarm bells. You couldn't be talking about someone else...

"Why would you think that? Aren't you two literally fucking?"

"Ya exactly! We're fucking and that's it. You don't have to be into someone to be fucking and I'm not exactly Minhos type!" You sound hurt and he can feel an ache in his chest. It's true that he had never actually asked you our, but he had assumed you were on the same page about his affections.

"His type?"

He leans in closer, trying to hear Chan as clearly as he could through the thick slab of wood that separates you.

"You know what I mean. I'm like... chubby. He's this toned little God and I'm out here ready for a snack every 20 minutes!"

"So is Changbin and we still think he's hot!"

He almost scoffs at the mention of the other man, and it takes everything in him not to listen any further as he somewhat unwillingly drags himself to his bedroom.

It's almost 1:30 in the morning when his text interrupts your sleepover with Chan, and he can clearly hear the sound of the front door opening, trying to keep himself calm as your footsteps sound louder toward his room. How could you possibly not know the effect you have on him?

The sight of you in your crop top and sleep shorts has him ready to risk it all when you push his door open, a flood of jealousy filling him when he realises that's what you must have been wearing all night.

"Sorry to interrupt your little date." He teased, hoping it sounded playful. You step a little closer to him, and his hands reach for your hips on instinct, pulling you down onto the bed on top of him.

"Min! Let me go, I'm gonna crush you!"

His grip tightens, and as you sit up to straddle him, he shoots you a glare that has you shivering.

"Do you really think I'm that weak?"

You scoff in response, attempting to shift so that your weight wasn't sat directly on top of him. He wasn't having that, forcing you back down I'm a way that makes you unintentionally grind against his bulge, earning a satisfied moan from the man beneath you.

"No, Min. I don't think you're weak."

There's a hint of mischief in his eyes, and he finally loosens his hold long enough for you to slip off of him and onto the bed, only allowing you a brief moment to breathe before he's moving so that he's on top of you now, slotting himself between your plush thighs and making himself right at home.

"Do you know what you do to me?" He whispers into your ear before he begins trailing soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his right hand slowly sneaking up over your tummy and your chest toward your neck where it rests at the base, unsure if it's a promise or a threat.

You huff out a sound of disbelief, and he leans back, holding his same scowl from earlier as he stares down at you. It's almost too much to look back at him, but the second you lean your head to the side, you find him gripping your cheeks, forcing your eyes to fixate on his beautiful face.

"Don't fucking do that." He practically growls, dropping his hand from your face back to its previous spot on your neck. Where it wraps to offer a subtle squeeze that's just enough to have your head going fuzzy. "If you don't wanna believe me, I'm just gonna have to fuck it into you."

Your shorts are loose enough for him to easily drag his fingers along your pussy, feeling how wet you were for him. You were always dripping when he was around.

"Look at that. My pretty baby is all ready for me."

You're begging him to fuck you and he's not one to make you wait, sliding his cock into you with little resistance, your walls welcoming him. You're fighting against the groan that leaves your mouth at the feeling of being filled by him, and he's relishing in the look on your face as your lip is tucked between your teeth.

His hips snap against your own and your flooded with pleasure as he hits all the right places, however you can't quite get out of your head and he clearly notices, his movement pausing as he leans back to study the way your eyebrows knit together in the centre.

"What's wrong, baby? Do you want to stop?"

You shake your head in response, and when your arms come down to cover your tummy, he finally understands the problem. He wouldn't call it a problem, of course. He loves your tummy.

He gently reaches for your arms and uncrosses them, his left hand intertwining its fingers with yours as his right gains a firm grip of your throat, squeezing the sides tight enough for your ears to be ringing as your flow of thoughts is completely cut in its tracks.

He resumes his movements more aggressively this time, pounding into you as he holds your gaze, pausing every time your eyes flutter shut, playing with the pressure of his hand around your neck to see what makes you whine the loudest as he ruins you.

He's rambling a little as he looses himself to the feeling of you wrapped around him, your soft body gone pliant practically begging him to have his way with you. Minho loves every soft, grippable part of you, and he's never felt more determined to let you know, spilling praises like mantras.

"Gonna fill my pretty baby, okay? You can take it, can't you?"

It almost sounds like he's pleading with you, and all you can do is whine, your thighs squeezing his hips in silent approval, being what pushes him over the edge, filling you to the brim before he buries his head in your chest as he pants, willing his breathing to even out.

It takes a minute but he's regained his composure quickly, still not pulling out as he comes up to press kisses across your cheeks.

"In case anything was unclear, you were always mine."

[the-oblivious-writer]

Comfort Crowd

Core Four x Fem!Reader | Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-Shot: Social Media Au, No GF Au

Summary: Just you, the core four, and a few other scream characters being chaotic

Warning(s): Swearing, "kys" being thrown around (once & jokingly ofc), no gf au, best friend's older sister & age gap (sam is 25/26 & r is 19)

Notes: First time doing a social media au thing for a fic soo if you have any feedback lemme know. Hope you enjoy, this was honestly fun to make

3/7 for Seven Days Of Christmas

mindythegreat

liked by chadtheman_meeks, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,563 others

mindythegreat: can’t take these bitches anywhere @y/n @justalilguy

view all 8,432 comments…

chadtheman_meeks: I just know your asses are freezing 💀

>justalilguy: SHE THREW ME ASS FIRST

>y/n: THREEWW?? YOU JUMPED ON MY BACK THEN SLIPPED

>justalilguy: LIESS

>y/n: YOU CAN SEE IT SO CLEARLY IN THE FIRST PHOTO

>justalilguy: GASLIGHTER

>y/n: LITERALLY STFUP

chadtheman_meeks: now they're at it in the replies 😭

>ambers_notafreeman: LMAO

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, chadtheman_meeks, and 4,127 others

y/n: we studying tf outa this exam 😤

view all 2,598 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: you spent the first 20 mins deciding on what playlist to use and then another 10 flirting with the librarian

>y/n: and you spent the first half hour giggling with liv on face time 🤨

mindythegreat: chad knows how to read??

>chadtheman_meeks: fuck you.

justalilguy: I see you've started without me 😒

>y/n: WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET LIKE TWO HOURS AGO??

>justalilguy: IT'S NOT MY FAULT MY ALARM DIDN'T GO OFF

>y/n: WE WERE MEETING AT 4 HOW MUCH SLEEP DO YOU NEED???

samcarpenter1997: @justalilguy This is the study session you slept through?

>justalilguy: sam?? since when did you have insta?

>samcarpenter1997: Mindy helped me set up an account

y/n: @justalilguy why have you never told me that your older sister is so breath taking? that's breaking girl code 😔

>justalilguy: no. just no. stay away from her.

>y/n: I was just making an observation? btw can I come over?

>justalilguy: NO.

>y/n: so in 30 mins work? great! tell sammy I won't be long

>justalilguy: YOU DID NOT JUST-

chadtheman_meeks: @justalilguy it's a canon event.

>not_ethanlandry: she hit on my sister too

>justwes: and mine

>livvy: mine too

>ambers_notafreeman: same.

>justalilguy: @y/n you have a fucking problem

—

y/n

liked by ambers_notafreeman, mindythegreat, and 8,752 others

y/n: bro's too stubborn to admit she needs help reaching the top shelf

view all 4,673 comments...

ambers_notafreeman: lmao she's so short not even tip-toeing would help her reach

>mindythegreat: rip amber

>livvy: was nice knowing you ames

>justalilguy: oh? well if I'm so short then ig I can't kiss you

>ambers_notafreeman: I didn't mean it in a bad way bby 😢

>justalilguy: there's a good way? please. enlighten me.

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n wat do I do.

>y/n: hm? oh, sry, I was too busy laughing at your ass being in the doghouse for the 3rd time this week 💀

>ambers_notafreeman: kys.

—

samcarpenter1997

liked by y/n, mindythegreat, and 6,732 others

samcarpenter1997: (sam? putting a caption? funny.)

view all 4,873 comments...

y/n: KSHFSKH I mean- Gorgeous as always 💕

>samcarpenter1997: Thank you! 🙂

>justalilguy: GTFO OF HER COMMENTS as for you @samcarpenter1997 wtf was that???

>samcarpenter1997: Your friend gave me a compliment. I literally just said thank you.

>justalilguy: since when do you actually reply to comments?? second of all, THE EXCLAMATION MARK AND EMOJI??? Sam. for you, that's basically jamming your tongue down her throat

>samcarpenter1997: I was just being polite, you're really overthinking this

>y/n: yeah, @justalilguy just listen to the drop dead gorgeous woman

>samcarpenter1997: @y/n Talking about yourself?

>y/n: oh!! 🤭

>justalilguy: I've died and this is hell.

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, justwes, and 9,892 others

y/n: me and my fav drummer boy @juswes are back at it again

view all 8,992 comments...

justwes: anything for my favorite guitarist 😊

>y/n: ❤️

chadtheman_meeks: I better be the first to hear it!

>y/n: was there any doubt??

samcarpenter1997: That guitar looks good on you

>y/n: bet you'd suit me better

>samcarpenter1997: We could test that theory

>y/n: oh, how I'd love to

>justalilguy: what. the. actual. fuck.

—

mindythegreat

liked by ambers_notafreeman, chadtheman_meeks, and 8,968 others

mindythegreat: LMAOO guess what she just walked in on

view all 8,572 comments...

chadtheman_meeks: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

ambers_notafreeman: @justalilguy I just got your text, I'm so sorry babe 😭

>justalilguy: IN THE FUCKING LIVING ROOM

not_ethanlandry: I don't get it?

>justwest: same

>chadtheman_meeks: y/n and sam were making out and Tara saw them...

>justwes: OH...y/n's gonna be annoying asf now right?

>chadtheman_meeks: 100%

—

y/n

liked by samcarpenter1997, nik, and 6,432 others

y/n: LOST IN THE LABYRINTH OF MY MIND

view all 5,897 comments...

justalilguy: this is my new waking nightmare.

>chadtheman_meeks: I tried to warn you

>ambers_notafreeman: you should see the look on her face rn

nik: aww, you guys are so cute together 🥰

>y/n: thank you anika<33

not_ethanlandry: you said you weren't looking for a relationship?

>y/n: with you. I wasn't looking for a relationship with you

>not_ethanlandry: noted

mindythegreat: @ambers_notafreeman pay up

>ambers_notafreeman: @y/n you couldn't have waited another week before posting how down bad you are??

>y/n: the heart wants what the heart wants

samcarpenter1997: 🖤

>y/n: 🤍

>samcarpenter1997: Are you coming over later?

>y/n: ofc I am 😉

>samcarpenter1997: Then I'll see you later, beautiful

>y/n: skhfkhfksh see you 🥰

mindythegreat: @justalilguy weren't you just telling me you think they look good together?

>justalilguy: MINDY

—

chadtheman_meeks

liked by justalilguy, ambers_notafreeman, and 8,997 others

chadtheman_meeks: @y/n was supposed to put them in for 10 minutes...she put them in for 30 😐

view all 8,542 comments...

justalilguy: @y/n how tf do you mess that up

>y/n: I don't appreciate being attacked rn

>justalilguy: hm?

>y/n: ...I wanted them a extra crispy

>justalilguy: you're such a dumbass sometimes 💀

>y/n: actually I'm just a girl

ambers_notafreeman: @y/n aren't you always saying how you'd be a housewife for the right woman and shit

>y/n: that still stands!!

>ambers_notafreeman: how do you expect to do that when you can't even bake cookies??

>y/n: wow. I wasn't expecting such sexism from you- chad maybe but you? it's the betrayal for me 😦

>ambers_notafreeman: idk how I tolerate you

>chadtheman_meeks: um hello???

—

y/n

liked by justalilguy, samcarpenter1997, and 9,896 others

y/n: Merry christler🎄❄️

view all 9,047 comments...

-----------

A/N: Tara and R in a nutshell (poor chad getting caught in the middle)

[jikagu]

FERRIS WHEEL

pairing: bachira x fem!reader

summary: you guys went to the local festival/fair with your guys' best friends. who knew that this festival would get you fucked against tinted glass?

notes: uhh semi-public? oral (m), oral (f), choking, picture taking, unprotected sex, praise and degradation, fingering etc, mature audiences only.

SHORT DRABBLE

"i wanna go on that ride!" bachira points at the biggest ride that there is, everyone shaking their head quickly.

"no." chigiri frowns, hitting bachira on the head.

"well, then what can we do?" the short male pouts, looking at you.

"um, i don't know, ask isagi, maybe he has an idea?" both you and bachira turn to him as he hums.

"hm, what about the ferris wheel?" he proposes with a shrug. to be honest, you guys did everything at this festival already except for the ferris wheel.

"sure, i'm game." bachira said, coming behind you with a hug.

you guys agreed that isagi and chigiri will go in one, and you and bachira will go in the other. there wasn't really a line that you'd expect from a huge festival and it really only took you all 20 minutes to get in.

"i've never been on a ferris wheel before." bachira said, looking out of the tinted windows. "i can barely see anything." he squinted his eyes.

"pretty big box." his kept talking, i guess this was his way of starting conversation.

"hm, now that you mentioned it, the windows are pretty tinted." you looked around, not really able to look out. i mean, it was dark but you'd expect to be able to see the lights from all the rides.

he sat with you instead of the opposite, laying his head on your thighs. it was kind of an awkward position for him but you thought it was fine.

once the wheel started moving, bachira sat back up straight, looking out of the window. that's when you noticed bachira's hand snaking up to your inner thigh. maybe wearing a skirt was a good idea after all...

"bachira.." you grinned, alerting his attention and as he looks back at you.

"huh? what's goin' on?" he smiles innocently, retracting his arm. as you were about to speak, the ferris wheel jolted and stopped in its place. both you and bachira tried to see what was going on, but—that attempt was more than futile.

you got a quick message on your phone from isagi saying, "ferris wheel dwn, they said like 25/30 min wait lol"

"damn." bachira frowns, acting sad. you knew it was just a facade and he had ulterior motives, but since it was down, why not have some fun with this? you grabbed bachira's hand and put it back on your thigh.

you were obviously embarrassed by this as you looked away and your face was flushed brightly. you were almost certain bachira was going to say something snarky.

"huh, you want me that badly?" he teased, his hand trailing dangerously close to your wet bundle of nerves.

"y—eah." you choked out, involuntarily spreading your legs a bit more.

"hold on baby, back against the wall." he said, moving you so you were facing towards him, legs spread on top of the seat.

"oh fuck, i—fuck." he stuttered, covering his mouth. his eyes widened looking at you.

"can i—take a picture?" he asked, eyeing your wet, dowsed panties. the pose you were in was very provocative with a bitten lip.

you nodded slowly as you heard the shutter and as he eyed the picture he took.

"you're so sexy baby, and i have you all to myself." he looked at you, and then the picture.

"you have the picture forever, but—this is a now moment. please—just hurry up and fuck me." you whined, begging.

"just wait baby, i'll get there." he grinned, it was almost like his eyes had changed to something more of lust.

he took off your panties with a low groan, looking up to you to see what you want. you quickly nodded, almost as if telling him to hurry up.

"my baby just so hungry for my fingers, aren't you?" he looked at you, opening your mouth with his thumb, putting his ring and middle finger in your mouth.

"show me what you can do." he commanded as you immediately covered his fingers with your saliva, sucking on them like you were his personal slut, only existing for his approval and validation. you moaned through his fingers, looking up at him.

"fuck, i need another picture—you look so good sucking my fingers like that like a needy little whore." he bit his lip, taking another picture.

he eventually took his fingers out of your mouth, plunging them into your pussy.

"mmh, even with my fingers you're still so tight." a groan escaped his mouth, curving his fingers inside of you making you turn your neck to the side.

"oh—baby—right there." you whined, bucking your hips and arching your back.

"fuck, fuck!" you moaned, his fingers hitting deeper. god, you forgot how long his fingers were. "so good!" you cried, gripping onto bachira's shoulders as he fingered you.

he kept curling his fingers, plunging them in and out. he knew what he was doing and it felt so good.

"good job baby, little bit more." he said, continuing for a solid minute before you came on his fingers.

"fuck! so good," you mumbled, eyeing him and his buldge.

"m' wanna make you feel good too." you panted, still recovering from your high. your chest heaved in and out as you got on your knees, you and bachira basically swapping places.

you pulled down his shorts and boxers to reveal his cock, your hand holding it in place.

"i'll make you feel good.." you sigh out before taking his cock in your mouth, toying with the tip.

"fuck baby, come on—stop teasing me." he growled, moving his hand on your head, pushing it down slightly. he didn't want to hurt you, but god damn were you such a brat sometimes.

"good job—keep going.." he encouraged, taking his cock whole now. your saliva dripped out of your mouth as you kept sucking, dedicated to make him feel good.

the way his whines escaped his lips made you almost euphoric. "mmh," you moaned, the vibrations effecting bachira, almost immediately making him cum.

you lapped up everything that came out with a smile as it dribbled out of your mouth.

"god—photogenic aren't we?" click, another picture. "god, i want to fuck you so bad." he eyed you like a predator does prey, pushing you back to the wall once again.

"yeah? then fuck me." you said, using your hand to spread your pussy open just for him, a sight for sore eyes truly.

click

he let out a guttural growl before hovering over you and pushing his cock inside of you. you let out a loud moan before bachira fucked you senseless. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, biting your lip tightly.

"fuck! h—arder!" you whine, still bucking your hips. he was going so fast on you, manhandling you. the grip he had on your thighs as he held them above your head made it to where he could hit spots you could never do alone.

you guys kept going like rabbits in heat, literally making the cart shake until bachira's cock starting twitching inside of you, a grunt coming out of his mouth.

"cu—mming!" you and him both cried in unison before bachira filled you with his cum, never feeling empty even when he pulled out.

"um, so, how do we clean this?" he panted, looking at you and your sex-drunk lewd face.

"mmh, napkins—skirt pocket," you close d your eyes, getting your breath back. as soon as you guys finished, the ferris wheel fixed itself. what perfect timing.

—

"hey guys, how'd you enjoy the ride?" isagi snickered. he more so insinuated the stop in the ferris wheel but you two turned into a stuttering mess.

[homunculus-argument]

2 tbsp yeast

2.5 cups warm water

2tbsp brown sugar

1tbsp salt

5.5 cups flour (measure flour by spooning into measuring cup them scraping off excess so it ain't as packed as putting scoop right into flour u will get more uniform and tru 2 recipe scoops this way)

Enough olive oil to fully coat the bowl ur leaving dough in 2 rise and 2 brush on later

2.5 tbsp mixed rosemary/ oregano/ thyme (or whatever herb mix ur feelin)

1/4 cup grated parm

1/2 cup grated havilah

(Cheese optional but nice feel free to sub out or for preferred cheeses)

(This recipe makes 2 good sized loaves so u can half it if u want less bread)

-Add yeast to warm water and mix till dissolved and let rest covered 5min(it should b frothy when uncovered)

-Add dark brown sugar and salt, mix together thoroughly(still frothy)

-Slowly add flour half cup at a time till fully incorporated in the bowl

- remove from bowl and knead a few min while adding in optional cheese n seasonings (I'm worse at deceiving this part but knead with medium force until it becomes shiney n strechy, it could take 3-10 min honestly this part is vibes but also the dough is v forgiving if u accidentally over knead)

-Put in oiled bowl and cover, let rest 20-30 min in a warm place(if u want u can leave it overnight in the fridge)

-Take out and shape into loaves(like gently cut dough ball into half or thirds n put em on greased baking trays)

Cover and let rest 5min

Preheat oven to 450

-Cut bread tops& brush on oily herb mixture

-Bake 15-30min till brown and crusty

Lmk if i left any gaps but also with all the yeast this bread has it kinda does its own thing lol

Sounds intriguing. Gonna save this for the time I'll try baking next time.

[hwaslayer]

crimson (cs) | one shot teaser.

—summary: life has always revolved around the club, the money, the clients— that is, until a first-time experience changes everything for san, for you; causing lines to be blurred, boundaries that are crossed. he didn’t think he’d get wrapped around your finger, falling deep into your spell. after all, he did become your number one client.

—pairing: choi san x stripper!reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, nightclub au | smut, angst

—general warnings: protected/unprotected sex, cussing/mature language, nightclub/stripper club scene, lap dances, pole dancing, alcohol consumption, intoxication, more detailed warnings will be listed on release.

—release: DEC 30 @ 7:30 pm PT; find full fic here

—on rotation: agora hills - doja cat | anywhere - 112 | all night long - thuy & lil kev | IT's you - wooyoung, san & yeosang

“You know my name?” He says, hands comfortably coming up your body, giving your breasts a squeeze. His hand runs up your neck, to your jaw— gently forcing you to keep eye contact with him as you continue to dance on him. He’s entranced by you that he doesn’t really know what else to say, or how to react. But god, do you feel amazing on him. That body, too? Heavenly.

“Your friends have been yelling it all night.” You stand and straddle him in the opposite direction, legs wrapped around his torso as you lean forward and bounce on his dick a little more. San can’t help but run his hands down your ass, giving it a good squeeze before you come back up and pry yourself off of him to head to the pole in front of him.

“Fair enough. What’s your name then, beautiful?” You look at him, ignoring the question at first. But, San feels a little different than your usual customers, feels a bit more personal even though you don’t know anything about him nor does he know anything about you. It’s the way that he looks at you, focused on your face, your every move. It’s the way that it’s a room full of dancers and he’s stuck on you. Most men are in the club to fill a void; seeking for quick satisfaction, something that’ll eventually blow over until the next visit. But, it’s nothing more than that. You are nothing more than a dancer, nothing more than a face on stage— someone who collects their bills and runs.

But to San, you feel different.

Before you look into him too deeply, you quickly snap out of it and begin to twirl around the pole, doing your usual routine when you’re in the VIP booth. You fall into a split, hand coming down from the pole, down to your body.

San follows.

“My name?” You repeat, and San nods.

“Is that not a normal question here?”

“No one ever gives out their real names here.” You chuckle.

“Then, what’s your stage name?” Time passes when you’re dancing. Usually, you give them 30 mins tops, 45 mins if they keep sending big bills your way. But, you never try to spend more than that with the same person. Not in this community. With the hundreds San’s friend handed you, you would’ve stopped at 15 minutes if this were anyone else.

You’re closing in 20– probably will be 30 when you blink— but you don’t really wanna stop giving San this attention. He’s attractive, fitting his button-up and slacks in all the right places. He has black short hair, a few strands draping over his forehead, a pretty Rolex sitting on his wrist. You think he could handle you if you gave him the chance, and the thought is enough to make your brain short-circuit.

“Crimson.” He smirks, running his finger across his bottom lip while he continues to watch you bounce your ass on the stage. He thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on— the bodysuit doing your body wonders as it makes his mind wander to the unknown.

To what you would look like naked, to have you underneath him, to have you calling his name.

He’s been glued to you from the start and he’s not sure what kind of spell you have him under, but he wants more.

[spookyspecterino]

Back to You Again

Tangerine x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Injury, mention of blood, mention of death/fear of death, arguing/bickering, swearing. Serious idiots in love who have a little trouble expressing their feelings and choose the wrong time to do it.

You've been gone a little while. A few months to be specific. Why? Tangerine can only guess, but he's not happy about it.

Requested by @nocturnest. I'm so sorry this took so long. I started it thinking it was going to be short and then 7K words flew out. 😬Anyway, thanks for your request. It's been a long time since I wrote anything seriously and this was really good for me. Hope you enjoy!

“Laser cutter. Three auto-rifles. Two handguns. Three boxes of ammo each.”

Check.

The binoculars are heavy duty, and the metal texture grates your fingers as you pull them up to peer through the lenses into the next building over. A high-rise that had at least 30 floors. All windowed at least, which made this a little easier on you.

“In through the fifth-floor service area. Through the employee hallway to the service elevator.”

A map of the building laid next to you on the gravel roof. It hadn’t been easy to get your hands on it, but it was worth it for a building as secure as this. No security measure had been overlooked by this man and as paranoid as he seemed it went a long way to his credibility.

“In and out through the service elevator. 20 mins tops. Oh, the jammer.”

A handheld device that you’d paid top dollar for. Yes, it has duct tape holding pieces of it together, and the screen was a repurposed old Gameboy front, but it is the best your back-channel dealer could provide.

How did anyone do anything without a handler these days?

The jammer would save you the trouble (if things turned sideways) of dealing with reinforcements. It flickers to life by flipping a switch smoldered to its side. The thing really does look like a piece of garbage.

Several frequencies and networks flashed across the screen, all of them belonging to the building you were surveying. Scrolling through, only a few needed to be shut down, too many and it would raise alarms.

Wifi was the last to be turned off and then you would really need to book it inside.

Everything planned out to a T. Entrance and exits mapped. Back-up plans (and back-up plans to those back-up plans) in place. Extra weapons and ammo in case you had to go out guns blazing. This should be no problem.

“Office-penthouse on the top floor. Computer terminal on the desk, west side.”

Get to the computer, get the files, destroy everything. If you happened to kill the son of a bitch, well, that was a bonus.

You sigh and rub your face, trying to work out the stress lines that seemed to make a permanent home between your brows. “Now I just need to stop talking to myself.”

It was an unfortunate habit you’d picked up in the last few months of working alone. Usually, you had… no. This was no time to think of them, or of him. You have to focus. After this is done, you can go back and apologize, even grovel if you have to.

But now is the time for focus.

In the middle of repeating this mantra, one you’ve been repeating for the last month, you happen to look up at the street. Not for any real reason, nothing had drawn your attention. Nothing was amiss in your perfect plan.

Except two very familiar faces walking down the sidewalk.

Lemon and Tangerine.

Clad in their typical attire. Snazzy suits, dress shoes, and ties.

Your stomach does several things. First it flips at the sight of Tangerine as he saunters with his hands in his pockets, then it sinks and twists into painful knots.

“No, no, no!”

They can’t be here! Anywhere but here!

The two walked casually down the sidewalk, as if they were taking a nice midday stroll. No rifles, no car, nothing. Either they were ballsy as hell…or wildly misinformed about this building and the man inside.

Something in you hoped, prayed, they would pass the building. That they were going somewhere else.

They took a sharp turn to cross the street—toward the building entrance—and your breath turned ragged, your blood chilled. At the same time, your mind was churning with practicality, cold and calculated ideas. Some nasty part of you that had gotten you this far in such a dangerous career, that had nestled in you a long time ago and only now resurfaced in the months of being alone.

You could just walk away; they have their job, and they’re professionals. They can handle themselves.

You could go in after and clean up without ever being seen. Easy. The plan you made could still work, Tangerine and Lemon would be a perfect distraction.

But you were already moving. Lega working on their own and putting you into motion. Fingers tapping off the Wi-Fi signal on the jammer while you slung your duffle bag over your shoulder.

This was not the plan, you argued with yourself as you flew down the back stairs. You’ll get yourself killed being this reckless and impulsive. What happened to in and out in 20 mins?

With every point you made the other side of your mind made a counterpoint.

They’re underprepared. They’re misinformed. They don’t have the firepower to walk in the front door, hell, they don’t have enough bullets to make it to the second floor.

“God damn it!” You yelled, taking the stairs down two at a time. Your voice echoed off the walls in the cramped stairwell. The rifles in your duffle bag clattered and banged together.

They’d be killed. Tangerine and Lemon would be killed. You couldn’t let that happen.

. . .

“I say we take a hostage and negotiate our way up.”

“Yeah, sure, Lemon.”

“This guy’s what, a tech billionaire, or something?”

“Probably.”

“Ok, so he’s a nerd. Easy job.”

“Uh-huh.”

Lemon shoots his brother a less than happy look. Tangerine is staring off into space with a slight frown, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he hunches over a little. Which wasn’t new, he’d been doing that a lot lately. A reflection of his dour mood.

Lemon rolls his eyes. “Oh, mate. Come on. We’re on a job.”

Tangerine shrugs, frowning harder. “I’m fuckin’ aware of that, Lemon.”

“Then stop with your sulking! What have I told you?”

“No—” Tangerine waves a hand, “—you don’t need to say it again—”

“Just send her a letter or something. She’d love it.”

Tangerine groans, he’s starting to get a headache now as they near the target building. “As I’ve said before, I attached letters on the flowers I sent.”

Lemon opens his mouth, but Tangerine cuts him off. “And I sent more than one bouquet. For fuck’s sake, her house probably looks like a tropical rainforest by now.”

“What about—”

“I’ve sent her presents. Jewelry. Perfume. A new phone in case hers was broken. Fuckin’ hell I even had her porch repainted.”

“And she didn’t say anything?”

“Nothing.”

Lemon hesitates. “Did you say you’re sorry?”

Now Tangerine was about to lose it. His eye twitched, not that his brother could see it. “Sorry for what? She’s the one that up and disappeared without a word.”

“I still think you should say it. Just to cover your bases.”

“I’m not apologizing. We were all perfect and you know that. She was happy as a clam and if something was wrong, she would have told me.”

“Then why’d she—”

“You’re really getting on my fucking nerves, Lemon.”

They were across the street from the main entrance now. Two glass doors with golden handles reflected the brothers. In sync they both took a sharp turn toward them. Through the glass they didn’t see anyone else in the lobby and there was a long, chest high counter with a clerk along the far back wall.

Neither of them blinked at how empty the lobby was. Their client had said this target was some kind of informant, but that was about it. They’d paid half up front and sent them on their merry way.

Tangerine yanked open the glass door, holding it for Lemon. He was beyond pissed and just wanted this to be over with. Despite his complaints he was still mulling over what his brother said. Should he apologize, even though he had done nothing wrong? He didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and he had thought back on all the times you’d been with them, working a job or not.

He’d been happy, he thought you were happy too.

The white floor tiles of the lobby were so shiny they could check their reflections in them. The whole place was upstanding and flaunted wealth. On both sides of the spacious lobby were two silver elevators. The clerk, a lady in her mid-thirties, looked up at them as they walked in. She picked up a phone and turned away as she spoke.

It took them 10 seconds to reach the desk, and, in that time, Lemon had pulled out his gun.

He pointed it at her now. “Hang up the phone.”

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. Not the usual response someone has when a gun is pointed at them, but she slowly hangs up.

“Come out from behind the desk, slowly.”

There’s a moment when she does nothing. Then, “No.”

Tangerine blinks, then pulls out his own gun. “Did you really just say no? Listen lady—”

She leans forward over the desk, leering. “Turn around and get the fuck out.”

Lemon shoots into the wall slightly to her left. She doesn’t even flinch at the sound. “I will fucking shoot you. Get out. From behind. The desk.”

She leans back. “Cute gun.”

Tangerine starts to get a sinking feeling. He turns to Lemon, about to say they should take a walk (maybe find a back entrance to this place instead) when the woman pulls out .22 Uzi from somewhere in the desk. They only catch a glimpse of the muzzle before they start shooting wildly and ducking.

Lemon takes a shot to the chest with a grunt. Tangerine hears the bullets whizzing past him and shattering glass.

The desk clerk turns disappearing behind an employee door seamlessly built into the wall.

They crouch down next to the desk. Tangerine’s head pounds, as it usually does when a job gets out of control.

“You alright?” He reloads his gun, watching his brother carefully.

Lemon checks himself over, patting his chest and stomach. “Yeah, all good, the vest caught it. This is fucked what do we do—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish as both elevators open and squads of heavily armored men pour out. They all have automatic rifles and black Kevlar vests.

“Behind the desk!” Tangerine shouts, pulling Lemon up.

They jump over just as the bullets start flying. Glass shatters, wood splinters, tiles crack. It’s utter chaos and Tangerine and Lemon can only sit behind cover.

“I think we might be fucked!” Lemon shouts, checking his gun.

Tangerine grits his teeth, mind racing. “The client didn’t mention this level of security! I’m going to wring their fucking neck!”

“We’re outmatched!”

“No question, Lemon! Thanks for pointing that out!” Tangerine can feel his brother’s rising anxiety as he shifts his weight from foot to foot.

 “What do we do?!”

“We hope to God this is all of them and try our best to make it out of here!”

“You’re saying—”

Tangerine fires blindly from behind the desk. “Yes, we bail on this job and break our client’s fucking legs!”

The onslaught never seems to end. These assholes are top security and they’re trained well. Their shots chip away at the desk piece by piece, Tangerine and Lemon can feel the bullets violently embed themselves in the wood against their backs.

Tangerine glances at the employee door, there’s no handle and no way to pry it open. He figures there’s a remote control that opens it somewhere from behind. He tries to remain calm, think of a way out that isn’t behind at least 10 guys with rifles.

What would you do in this situation? His heart feels like it’s been pierced with a lance as he thinks of you. Obviously, you would never be caught in a situation like this. You were careful, practical, methodical in the way you planned out jobs.

He wished you were here with him.

Instinctually, his hand reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone. Lemon watches him with something close to sympathy on his face.

Your number is on speed dial. Tangerine presses a button and holds it up to his ear.

It goes straight to voicemail.

The automated answering machine has become very familiar to him these last few months. Were you checking his voicemails? He’d left you enough to fill up your mailbox, he was sure of it.

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

He hopes you can hear him over the sound of gunshots.

“Yeah, look. Lemon and I, we’re in a bit of a pickle. I was really hoping you would answer this time ‘cause we need help. Since you didn’t, I just wanted to say that you’re a real prick for leaving us the way you did. And you haven’t said a single thank you or anything for all the gifts I’ve sent. Poor Lemon has been wondering where you went off to.” He pauses. This wasn’t the way he wanted to start this message, but every other attempt at getting your attention has failed.

“You know how I feel, I’ve made that pretty clear. But right now, I’m just pissed. Nothing has worked, so I’m going to break into your house and wait for you to come home.”

Lemon gives him a startled look, shakes his head from side to side.

Tangerine frowns. “Don’t take that the wrong—Alright, I won’t break into your house, but I will wait on your doorstep. Every day, I’ll be there until I see you.”

Lemon is still frowning, but Tangerine ignores him.

“This is all because…Well, I…” He struggles, throat turning dry and closing around the words he wants to say. Instead of continuing, he hangs up.

Sitting back against the desk he exhales. The gunfire has stopped to an occasional patter here and there.

Lemon runs a hand through his hair. “Bruv, what the fuck was that?”

“A last-ditch effort at getting some backup.”

They fell into silence; the lobby was eerily quiet. They knew the security team was just waiting for them to come out from behind the desk. The air crackled with energy.

Lemon checked his pockets. “I’ve got two clips left, you?”

“One and a half.”

The look they share conveys their doubts, their dread. An unspoken conversation passes between them.

Tangerine puts it in the back of his mind. “I’ll run out first, then you go a few seconds later.”

“No way, we go at the same time.”

He shakes his head but arguing only puts off the inevitable.

“Go to the opposite side of the desk.”

They split, crouching behind opposite corners. There was no way either of them would be able to make it two steps without taking 10 rounds to the chest. The image of you stays in Tangerine’s mind. He just wished he could see you again. Whatever comes next, afterlife or not, he hoped you—or some form of you—would be in it.

Tangerine gives Lemon one last look, finds that his brother is watching him, and gives him a somber nod. He holds his gun up, takes a deep breath, gets ready to run…

He’s out from behind the desk, gritting his teeth and firing in a flash.

He hits one, another to his left falls from Lemon’s bullets. His legs are shaky, he can feel them trembling.

Rifles take aim.

Tangerine opens his mouth to urge Lemon on.

And a grenade goes off.

The loud bang startles him, his ears ring and a second later he’s shrouded in white, smokey fog. Tangerine stops, confused, looking around to try and find Lemon. But a strong hand yanks him and drags him back. He stumbles, scattering empty bullet shells along the ground, and falls onto the tile.

He’s back behind the desk. Lemon falls next to him.

A pair of legs stands between the brothers. Next to them lies a green duffle bag. Empty rifle shells fall to the ground. Tangerine didn’t even realize guns were firing. He followed the legs up in one long sweep of his eyes.

. . .

A million and one things were going through your mind as you fired an automatic rifle at the security team in the lobby. The biggest thing was holding back every fiber of your damn being from screaming at Tangerine and Lemon for being so foolish.

If you had been a breath later, a second too late, these idiots would be laying in a pile of their own blood on the floor. That thought definitely won’t haunt you for a few months.

The other thing you were concentrating on was ignoring the way Tangerine was staring at you right now. He’s not hurt—you kept repeating, over and over again. He’s ok.

The security team was scattering for cover, but finding little, making your job easy as the last of the smoke cleared. They hadn’t been expecting someone to come in from behind and you’d shot a few in the back before throwing the smoke grenade. Only a few were left now.

They seemed to get over their surprise and began firing back, opening the elevators, and using the inside cabins for cover. Keeping the doors open would stop them from being sent back up for more goons to come through. That was good.

You duck down behind the desk. They were still staring at you.

“Yes! Hello!” You stubbornly gritted out while staring into the wood.

Tangerine’s mouth opened and closed many times, but no words came out. That didn’t mean Lemon wasn’t able to say anything.

“Did you get his message?” He was grinning like some kind of fool.

“Message? Which one?”

Was he talking about the hundreds of messages—texts, voicemails, and letters—Tangerine had been sending on a weekly basis? Yes, you’d gotten them. Read every single one. It had been hard enough sleeping normally, after all that you hadn’t been able to sleep at all. The guilt was overwhelming.

Lemon’s eyes dart to his brother. You did the same and regretted it immediately.

Tangerine’s eyes were practically bulging from his head. His mustache twitched.

Oh, he’s pissed.

You quickly look away and clear your throat. “Are you on a job?”

“Yeah, a shit one. We were just trying to bail.”

“Can’t blame you. What happened, bad intel?”

Tangerine’s voice resembled a growl, it grated against your ear, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “Understatement of the century, love.”

Love. Love. Love.

Lemon wipes his forehead. “What’re you doing here?”

“I have my own problems with your target.” You turn to Lemon but feel Tangerine’s eyes burning a hole in your back. “I was about to sneak in when I saw you two walking down the street.” You check your gun, then rummage through the duffle bag for another clip.

“A massive coincidence then?” Lemon was holding back a smile, eyes darting to Tangerine occasionally. It was as if they weren’t just about to die only five minutes ago.

“If you two still want to bail, that’s fine with me. I’ll give you a window after taking the rest out. I’m going to push on.”

Tangerine spins you around by the shoulder to face him. “Are you fucking mental?”

You’re very close together. The determination it takes not to just lean in and…

Speaking slow, you’re focusing your words and hoping it gets through to him. “Your target has info on me that could get people hurt and ruin my reputation. I need to wipe his computer.”

For all his credit, Tangerine takes you seriously in that moment, even as he looks like he might commit murder. He looks to Lemon—they do that ‘sibling conversation’ without words that they’re so good at.

“We’ll stick around to help.”

“You sure?”

Something in him ignites. There’s a fire behind his eyes. “Fuck yes, we’re sure.”

He’s giving mixed signals now. Is he angry? Probably. But apparently not angry enough to leave you on a job alone.

“Alright…” You say, slowly backing away.

You search through the duffle bag, cold objects graze your fingers, you can identify them each by touch. The laser cutter has a rubber handle. “Lemon—" You toss it to him. “—Cut a hole in the employee door. Tangerine—” You grab another rifle, placing it into his hands. “—Help me take out the last of the guys.”

He takes the rifle and for a moment your hands touch. You expect him to flinch away, or recoil, but he lingers there for a moment. His golden rings gleam—of course he wore them, he never leaves them behind—and catch your eyes until he takes the gun from you.

Fucking confusing.

It had been months, but the three of you worked together like no time had passed at all. Tangerine falling in sync with you, watching your back. Working in tandem, the few remaining riflemen dropped like flies.

“Doors open!” Lemon shouted tapping you and Tangerine’s shoulder.

The three of you waste no time dashing into the small service hallway. Tangerine grabbed the duffle bag and slung it over his shoulder. You were just about to pick it up, but he gave you a look.

There wasn’t as much polish to this part of the building, the lighting was dimmer, and it lacked the white tiles, replaced by a steely gray metal flooring instead. The hallway was long and narrow, its walls matched the floor in color.

“This should lead to an employee elevator. That will take us to the top office.” You panted, oddly exhilarated.

Lemon was looking down the hallway as he crouched. “Watch out for the desk clerk, she went this way.”

“Still can’t believe you both just walked in the front door…”

“We don’t all have your sense of planning, darling.” Tangerine huffed, hiking the bag higher on his shoulder.

“Did you have any sense of planning?”

“Lemon had a plan.”

You turn halfway back to face him. “You—Tangerine!”

He fixes you with an odd look. “What?”

“Lemon doesn’t even read the briefs! And you let him make the plan?” You shoot an apologetic look to Lemon. “No offense, you’re really great in every other area.”

He gives you a half smile. “I appreciate that.”

Tangerine grinds his teeth. “In my defense, the intel in the brief was already bad.” He steps closer, into your personal space. “And you always come up with the plans.”

You don’t shy away from him, in fact, you inch closer. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to make them, but you should know better—”

Lemon sighs, long and loud. “Can you two please focus? We’re in the middle of a dangerous situation here.”

It took a moment for you and Tangerine to resume, the closeness was intimate. Electricity crackles in the air between you.

You both say ‘Fine’ at the same time, like stubborn teenagers. The tension hadn’t settled one bit.

If Tangerine needed to be ignored for the remainder of this mission, then ok. That’s fine. No problem. That doesn’t bother you one bit. Nope.

The three of you empty the duffle bag of its contents, splitting the ammo and giving Lemon the pump action shotgun. That shotgun was your Hail Mary in case shit hit the fan—which, by your definition, it had.

You three were your own personal attack squad now, armed to the teeth.

The employee lift was at the end of the twisting hallway, metallic doors shining like a beacon. The panel to call it only had the arrow pointing up, a one-way lift. You’d poured over the maps late into the night leading up to your personal mission, often with a glass of wine, and it had struck you as odd that it only offered a one way up.

You jab at the button, and the little golden light is stark against the greys around it. Tangerine stands just behind you; you can hear his breath over your shoulder.

“Why’s it only one way?” he asks, hushed and tense.

“I asked the same question.” You responded turning a little to look at him. “I thought it might be security measures.”

“Doesn’t really make sense though, does it? It lets people like us up.” Tangerine zeroes in on your frown. “What is it?”

“There might be internal controls from the top office. This guy doesn’t fuck around with security.”

“Who is this guy anyway?” Lemon sniffs, casting a look back down the hallway.

“An asshole that likes snooping into people’s personal business.”

The brothers trade looks.

“He also works in satellite tech, undercover ops, information gathering.”

There’s a gentle bump into your shoulder. “He’s been snooping into your business, has he?”

How long is this elevator going to take?

“He has.”

“Did he try to blackmail you?”

“Yes.”

“What did he find?”

The elevator dings and the sleek metal doors slide open. The inside is full of ominous red and gold hues. The luxuriousness of it gives you the impression that the boss of the building takes it regularly.

Instead of answering, you step inside and forcefully hit the button for the top floor. Tangerine watches you carefully, studying you. Somehow, he looks like a kicked puppy, yet holding the rifle he takes on a much more sinister tone. He still looks dashing as hell in his suit though. You can see the little gold chain of his necklace around his broad neck.

Focus, focus, focus!

His mustache twitches a bit as he catches you staring. And to top that off, he stands in front of you, very closely in front. Either trying to shield you or irritate you. Possibly both.

He’s wearing the cologne you got him as a present almost a year ago.

“If there’s in house security for this lift, we should be prepared.” You shift a little to see Lemon over Tangerine’s shoulder.

“What do you suggest?”

“They know we’re coming, so we have to be fast. Their access to elevators has been blocked. All remaining security teams will need to take the stairs. This elevator opens to another employee hallway that we’ll have to exit in order to reach the office. That’s assuming—”

The elevator stutters, something above you screeches in the elevator shaft, and the panel lights flicker. All three of you stumble as it comes to an abrupt stop and the dim emergency lights switch on. They coat the interior in a faint red light, turning it into a nightmare scenario.

 You groan. “That’s assuming they don’t just turn the elevator off. Fuck.”

Lemon places the shotgun on the floor and motions to Tangerine. Together they pry the paneling off to reveal the switchboard underneath. Lemon fusses with the wiring, using a knife to cut through some and connect it to others.

Sparks fly, flashing in the dim light. Your anxiety ramps. Trapped in an elevator was not on your list of things you wanted to deal with today.

While Lemon fussed with wires, Tangerine turned back to you. “Relax.”

“Excuse me?”

“Try to stay calm, we’ll be out in a second or two.”

Your blood boiled hot. “Don’t tell me to be calm.”

Tangerine smiles at you. “I know you hate elevators.”

“They’re fine, I just particularly hate being trapped in them.”

“Just relax, I’ve got you.”

“That doesn’t help at all!”

More sparks and flickering lights and the elevator doors open an inch. Tangerine has the audacity to smirk in that moment and he touches your chin briefly. His eyes gleam in the dim light.

If you all lived, you were going to kill him.

The twins work wordlessly to pry the elevator doors open. It takes a tremendous effort and both of them are sweaty and breathing hard at the end, but there’s enough space for a person to climb through. Except, you’re going to have to jump down into the office below. Half the elevator is blocked.

“Well, good news is…” Lemon says, scratching his head, “we can get out. And if the elevator can only fall downward.”

“The elevator only goes up, Lemon.” You choke out.

“Oh. Right…well, best get a move on then.”

“I’ll go first.” Tangerine volunteers.

On instinct you reach for him. He sees the slight movement before you hold yourself back.

As if it was easy, he’s crouching down, squeezing through the doors, and jumping into the office below. All with his gun in his hand. Meanwhile, your heart is doing summersaults in your throat.

He holds his hands up, beckoning you. “Come on. You’ve done harder things than this.”

You force yourself to move, crouching down and inching toward the opening. You toss him your rifle. “Like when?”

“Like when you jumped between rooftops in Venezuela.”

“I wasn’t thinking when I did that! And in hindsight, it was fucking stupid of me.”

He laughs. “I’ve got you. Come on.”

You squeeze through the doors, imagining the elevator crashing down, the doors snapping shut, something—anything drastic, and then throw yourself at Tangerine. He catches you with practiced ease and holds you close to him.

He says something you don’t catch over the sound of your trembling breaths. There’s a pat on your shoulder, Lemon is out.

Regaining yourself, you move away from Tangerine and straighten your clothes. His brow furrows, mustache tilts down. Maybe it was your imagination, but did his fingers grip your clothes? A silent plea for you to stay?

You do your best to ignore it. “Let’s go. Did anyone catch what floor we stopped on?”

“37th.” Lemon says, handing over your gun.

“Two floors short.”

“You think they’re waiting for us?”

“I’d bet money on it. Be careful, both of you. I don’t want to see any heroics.”

Tangerine’s eyes follow you as you move to the front and lead them through the hallway at a jogging pace. The single door at the end is much like the one you entered on the first-floor lobby. There’s a control panel for it to the side. As you run up to it, you press your ear to the other side.

No noise.

Your hand hovers over the button. With one last look behind you at the twins you give them a nod, then press it. The door clicks open a fraction, and everything goes to shit.

They were waiting for you on the other side of the door and the gunfire started up immediately. Your vision was blocked immediately, and you were pushed and tugged out by a strong hand—the world was a blur of loud shots, ringing ears, and scrambling. Grey cubicles shoulder-height tall were set up along the floor, which made spotting the enemy incredibly hard. All the fighting was done in the tight walkways between the office spaces.

Your shirt had blood on it, but you had no bullet wounds. Tangerine sat beside you, holding an arm. He’d been shot in his right arm.

“I said no heroics!” You practically shrieked.

Lemon was firing between cubicles, and from the sound of it, he was holding his own.

“What was I supposed to do, love?” Tangerine pants through the pain.

“You’re supposed to let me handle it!” You’re shouting as you pull out some gauze. The bullet went straight through his upper arm. He’d need stitches but, overall, he would be ok. You poke and prod gently as he hisses with each touch.

His teeth are gritted as he grunts out, “You wanted to get shot?”

“I’d take a bullet for you, happily. You know that.”

“I feel the same way, which is what I was doing.”

“I still don’t want you to!”

“I don’t want you to, either!”

Something bounces off your back. It’s a stapler. Both you and Tangerine stare at it for a moment, confused.

“Oi! You two! Get over yourselves and actually talk about your feelings for once!”

You whip around to stare daggers at Lemon. “Did you just throw a stapler at me?!”

He’s taking cover behind a grey cubicle not too far away. “Yeah, I did! I’m sick of you two avoiding an actual conversation. Talk—it—out!”

Tangerine sits up, pushing against your hands on his chest in your weak attempt to keep him down. “You’ve lost your mind, mate!”

“Thomas would say to express your feelings, that bottling them up is bad for you! So, express them!”

“Is it really necessary—” You pick up your rifle and fire blindly down the walkway, “—to do this now? We’re a little busy!”

“It’s now or never, I know you two! Once all this stops, you’ll avoid it!”

Tangerine looks perplexed, like he’s really considering it, and you try not to look at him again. “Fuck this job!” You shout, before rolling into the walkway and opening fire.

The two or three men that hadn’t been behind cover are caught by surprise and the bullets chew through the walls of the cubicles. A deadly silence permeates the office floor, only the ringing in your ears remains.

Another shot rings out and you feel like your shoulder’s been ripped from the socket.

You’re thrown back onto the ground. It must have been a heavy round, your left arm is completely numb, do you even have an arm left?

There’s shouting and more gunshots, the grey office walls and floor merge into one as the room spins. You’re getting pulled off the ground, someone is prodding your arm. Absentmindedly, you swat at whoever is doing it.

“Listen, hey, open your eyes!”

Tangerine…

You obey. He’s inches in front of your face, brows furrowed, a vein in his forehead sticks out.

“I’m fine.” You cough out. “Just fell down, is all.”

“You’ve been shot!”

“Oh.”

He struggles, he looks like he has more to say, but stays silent. You swat at Lemon who’s wrapping your arm—or shoulder, more accurately. “I’m fine, let’s keep going.”

“You’re not fine.” Lemon grunts, pushing your hand away. “It was a .308 round. You’ll be lucky if you have any bones left in your shoulder.”

“Why’d you do that?!” Tangerine is shouting, running his hand through his hair. You both match now, he’s bandaged up on his left arm too.

“Do what?” You ask through gritted teeth as Lemon tightens the bandage.

“Run out like an absolute lunatic?”

“I told you I’d take a bullet for you.”

His eyes bug out. “You threw yourself into the line of fire!”

“All in a day’s work. Now, can we get back to it?” You don’t wait for a response, instead pushing yourself to your feet. Your left arm hangs to the side, limp and numb. A dull throb pulses through your side.

Tangerine watches you. “We need to have a serious discussion when this is over, love.”

You huff out a breath, swaying slightly. “Noted.”

The three of you push on in tense silence. Tangerine makes sure you’re behind him while the rest of the floors leading to the main penthouse office are cleared. He’s acting so stubborn, blocking you at every turn, holding you back with a gentle, yet unyielding hand. The vein in his forehead never goes away.

Finally, the double doors leading to the office are before you. Platinum gold, of course, with carved handles. This guy’s style was beginning to get obnoxious.

Lemon kicks open the doors with as much anger and prejudice as you feel (yet can’t muster at the moment). Instead of what you were expecting, the target stands alone behind his desk. He smirks, giving off a Wall Street investor impression with his pressed suit and perfectly cut hair.

He spreads his arms wide. “I really should have known you three would be together for this.”

“Shut up, wanker.” Tangerine shouts, pointing his gun.

The target opens his mouth to say more, but Tangerine doesn’t let him. He empties the clip into the man’s chest.

The target dies with a startled look on his face, falling back over his desk.

You move past Tangerine, fighting his hands that grip at your clothing. “Thank God for that.”

The computer is easily hacked, the files you’re after are on the desktop. Maybe the dead man was looking to bargain—or gloat. You glance at his dead, glazed over eyes.

Bastard.

Tangerine paces, looking at you often. His job is done, the confirmation is sent to the client through Lemon’s phone.

Your files are downloaded onto an encrypted flash drive, and you rip the wiring out of the computer’s back, smashing the server tower. Mission accomplished.

“I guess now that you have what you need, you’ll disappear again.” Tangerine is glaring at you, chewing his lip. His bandage is bloody.

The flood gates open.

“I needed these files!” You shout, worsening the headache you already have.

Tangerine shouts back, taking a step closer. “I would have understood if you had just told me!”

“I couldn’t have told you!”

“Why not?”

“Because—well—I didn’t—It doesn’t matter now!”

“So, you disappear for months, without a word, for something you won’t even tell me about?!”

“I didn’t want to involve you! I wanted to get this done myself!”

“I’m involved now!”

“It was a shitty coincidence you showed up here today, and I’m sorry you got hurt because of this job!”

“I’m not concerned about me!”

“Well, you should be! I care about your safety!”

“And I care about yours!”

In the corner, Lemon shakes his head.

You hold your arm, trying to work some feeling back into it. It throbs and you wish you hadn’t. “I would have come back after this was done.”

“Oh, really?” Tangerine laughs dryly. “How was I to know?”

You groan, throat turning dry. “You’re so impatient! I just needed a little time!”

“You know how often I tried to reach you—?”

“Yes! I heard every message, got every bouquet of flowers—and thank you for my porch, that was really nice.”

Tangerine flounders a little, he still wants to argue, but some of the steam has been let out. “A thank you would have been nice.”

“I’m thanking you now!”

“A whole good that did when I thought you were done with me—” He shoots a look at his brother, “—and Lemon!”

“I’ll say I’m sorry a thousand more times, Tangerine! Is that what you want?”

He turns his back to you, grumbling something.

“I don’t understand why it was such a big deal to you, we’re contractors! We kill people for a living, and you’re freaking out—”

He spins back around. “It’s a big deal because I thought you were hurt.” He stalks closer, you notice his hair has come undone from the neat gel, curls flair out around his neck. “I thought something happened to you!” He’s within arm’s distance now. “It’s a big deal because I love you!”

And then he stops. His eyes go wide, as if he’s just spilled a secret.

Fuck, he did just spill a secret. Maybe you had known, but he’s never said anything. It was always just little guesses here and there, a thought—a feeling—and inclination. Late nights, especially recently, that you spent thinking about it, wondering.

Your mouth falls open in the silence. “I—I…love…” but damned if your mouth just wasn’t getting it out.

Arguing and bickering was so much easier.

But he knows, he can see it in the way your eyes soften, in the way you swallow with a dry throat. In the way your hand reaches to him, and your body leans forward.

“You know…” Lemon says, looking up from his phone, “Most people would kiss at this point. Just a suggestion.”

A quip, a very fitting one, comes to mind and you’re about to tell Lemon just how you’re not normal people, when Tangerine pulls you to him. Your chest presses to his and his lips are on yours in an instant.

Hungry, needy. It’s desperate, an urgent need be close, to be touching. Burning with desire and hot with passion. You give into it.

His mustache scratches at your lips and you pull him into you, threading your fingers through his curly hair, mussing it up even more. His hands grip at your back, pull at your clothes.

Closer. You need to be closer.

Fuck air, the feeling of his lips moving against yours is the only thing you’ll ever need again.

Your arm throbs and the dull pulse shoots up to your chest. You sigh, half in pain and half in pleasure. Unfortunately, Tangerine pulls back. There’s blood on his lips and he looks concerned.

“Wait…” You mumble, trying to pull him back to you. He’s your lifeline now.

“You need a doctor, love.”

“Just a little longer.”

Tangerine chuckles, wrapping an arm around your back. “After you’re patched up. I promise.”

…Bonus…

“You’re going to ‘break into my house and wait for me to come home’?”

Tangerine groans, throwing his head back as you walk into the small office. Private clinics with ‘respectable’ doctors. Gotta love ‘em.

“Love, I didn’t mean it, I was in a life-or-death situation—I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

You give a good-natured laugh, sitting next to him. You’d been patched up first, Tangerine was just waiting for some blood work to come back.

Tangling your fingers in his you give his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m just teasing, Tan. I know.”

“Ok.” He sighs, giving your hand a squeeze back. “Good.”

You ruffle through your pockets to pull out your phone, your arm stings, but the pain medication the doc gave you does wonders. “I thought about it, I think you deserve to know why I was after your target.”

He looks at you with new interest now.

You tilt your screen to show him.

It had pictures of you and Tangerine. Pictures of you sitting together at lunch, laughing. Pictures of you walking down the street together, arm in arm. Pictures of you looking like a couple.

“Oh,” he breathes out, “I see.”

“I was worried you’d be put in danger if these…well, if they got into the wrong hands.”

“Didn’t want our clients to think we were softies either, huh?”

“That too.”

He presses his face into your hair. He hasn’t expressed his feelings for you again, but you’re starting to realize he always had—just through actions instead. A gentle hand on the small of your back. Wrapping an arm around your waist. Leaning down to speak softly into your ear.

These were just as much of an expression as words.

“Will we have to do this every time?” he asks, voice muffled slightly.

“Every time what?”

“It’s only a matter of time before more pictures of us make it into someone’s hands.”

“Oh. That’s a good point.”

He pulls you a little closer. “I’ll be dammed if I have to stop taking you out over that.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to kill whoever tries something like that again.”

“We’ll do it together next time, yeah?”

“Absolutely.”

[starfxkr]

oo what are the girls favorite types of swimsuits and what are they having in their beachbag!!!

i want you to know i spent 20-30 mins of my hair appointment working on this bc i love this question sm

kitten

kitten has copious amonts of bikini tops but always loses the bottoms some how so very mix and match but it doesnt bother her bc she wears her shorts most the time lots of halters in black, cheetah print or like dark blue/denim. minimal patterns, the american flag bikini was initially a joke but she thought she looked cunt so now its in constant rotation. avoids string bottoms bc jj pulls them at the worst fucking moments.

her bag is filled with fuckin junk and its burstinggg at the seams and she jokes that shes turning into her mama with the broken cigarettes in the bottom 😭 she has nothing useful at all: sunglasses, weed, lip gloss, car keys and crumpled up dollars for an ice cream cone or something. her idea of a beach read is carrie and she has a clip on mp3 player shes kept since middle school

pup

pup os very colorful and comfy with little details. prefers crochet bikinis and matching sets because she wants the whole look to be cute!!! is not afraid of the tankini okay it makes her titties look good! loves floral and gingham print the most. goes for a triangle cut more than anything but doesnt mind a bandeau or a scoop on occasion. wears lots of coverup skirts when walking around. john bs favorite is the yellow gingham one because of the little keyhole in the middle and pokes her there to annoy her.

is actually responsible at the beach since she spends so much time there. has water, and sandwiches and sunscreen because she freckles and her best friend already smokes cigarettes she wants one less cancer for her to worry about LMAO. keeps her wallet on her at all times and loves a good spray of body mist just in case she ends up at a party.

bunny

her swimsuits are tiny, expensive and very very pink. somehow managed an archival dior monogramed bikini??? loves stringy little things that tie in the front to fuck with rafe and flash him. also likes ruffles and scalloped hems she feels like theyre super girly and doesn’t wear many one pieces but the one she has cups her tits real nice but manages to seem modest at first glance. all patterened in cutesy girly patterns

is less of a beach girl and more of a pool girl but she packs accordingly each time (well rafe packs most of it.) her selections impractical: body shimmer, perfume, lip gloss. but his are more realistic with sunscreen, her favorite pop, camera because she loves to force him to take pictures, towel, extra pair of shoes.

fox

unsurprisingly fox is very no fuss with her swimsuits but that doesnt mean she doesnt look good ukwim? mostly one pieces because she finds em more comfortable but will make them a scoop back to show some skin and looks soooo cunt in the brown tankini and knows it LOL. likes a bandeau one piece too and her choices normally arent patterned but likes browns, purples. looks fuckin stun in the red one piece legit made popes jaw drop and she teased him for it for weeks.

carries at least two books because she reads fast and wants options. has extra sandals and is the only pogue to bring a beach towel 😭 her wallet is her grandmas old cigarette case. carries sunscreen and a hat for practicality and packs a whole lunch because she hates spending money.

[boccher]

widefield of the milky way core, 1hr total exposure time from a Bortle 2 dark site at 24mm focal length

The photo contains a bunch of my other photos within it. I think its neat to see the context of all the nebulae

1:

2:

3:

4:

5:

A little ramble under the cut

The most common question astronomers get is "what does it look like to the naked eye?" Photos are usually much more detailed and colourful, since cameras can take long exposures while our eyes can't.

I was able to observe it from the Bortle 2 site with about 10 mins of dark adaptation (astronomers usually recommend at least 30 mins but I was busy at the time). I edited the photo to try to account for the level of details, colour, and stars that I was able to see with my eyes, here:

It was mostly colourless, but I think I was able to see a faint hint of golden brown colour right in the brightest part of the milky way core. The central bulge of the milky way extended just short of Antares (bright yellow star at the top), and I was just barely able to see the dark dust lanes extending to Antares. The Lagoon nebula was obviously visible as a small diffuse cloud, and the Omega nebula was also visible as a fuzzy looking "star" if you knew where to look.

Keep in mind though this is in the southern hemisphere, where the milky way core passes directly overhead. In the northern hemisphere, this region of the milky way is lower on the horizon, and is thus dimmed by the atmosphere. On the other hand, I didn't adapt my eyes to the darkness for very long, and I was in a Bortle 2 site (the darkest skies are rated Bortle 1), so even better views are definitely possible.

I think the biggest thing that photos can't capture is the sheer size of the milky way in the sky. It stretches across the entire sky from horizon to horizon, and at its thickest point it's wider than two outstretched hands at arms length. The sky is also dotted with stars covering your entire field of vision. As much as it's a cliché thing to say, you really do get a sense of yourself on earth floating through space. It's an insanely immersive experience

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for telling my two friends that they might be “soulmates”?

okay for privacy sake i will use abbreviations… so i (27NB) have two coworkers-turned-friends named T (28M) and B (27M)… they had known eachother before i ever met them and were both to my knowledge straight and cis

the three of us game a lot and have hung out every week over the past 8 months since i met them. T and B feel like they could have been my brothers separated at birth; we get along great and have the same humor. they treat me like “one of the guys” and it gives me a lot of euphoria as a transmasc enby

some nights we spend listening to eachother talk about specific interests that each of us has. B is a DM and is obsessed with D&D, T loves politics and history so he rants about it a lot, and i’m into psychology and personality typing. we each like talking about these things but are casual-enjoyers compared to the respective person who has more of a die-hard obsession. it’s a good way to unwind; getting drunk or high and listening to somebody else go off the rails about a topic you enjoy

i just recently got a new book about personality typing. to sum up, it deals a lot with how others interact with eachother and what each person values (it’s a socionics book). tbh it’s all just fun for me, i love reading theories about behavior. both T and B have had me “type” them and they’re entertained by it so when i got this new book and we hung out two nights ago i was excited to have some drinks and rant about the book i’m reading…

they were excited, too. i was tipsy while ranting but i remember a lot of laughing and me pacing around while i talked. i may or may not have accidentally knocked over one of B’s lamps when i walked past it. but it was all just positive reactions to what i was talking about. i talked a lot their own personalities, but neither of them seemed bothered. they’ve said before that they kinda like it when i “psychoanalyze” them…

here’s where i maybe am an asshole.

after i got too drunk to keep ranting, we started playing mario kart. playing mario kart while drunk is hilarious tbh and we aren’t competitive people much. T and B are always pretty nice to eachother about it. so, in the last round we were playing B knocked T out of first place at the last second and other than a playful slap on the arm/joking insult T didn’t really seem to mind. he even complimented B on managing to do it while drunk. i’ve definitely had friends play mario kart and attack me for doing a lot less than what B did

so, stupid and drunk, i made the connection in my brain what two types they might be from the book i’m reading. i told them as much and they both seemed interested but want to know why i thought that. i pointed out that they are both a little soft around eachother and tend to have similar values. i explained the two types i thought they each fit and they seemed to agree up until i explained… that those two types are considered “soulmates” (the book also calls it “duality”) which might be why they are so close

immediately T got kinda defensive. he asked me what i meant by that and i stupidly told him more about it rather than noticing his tone. he was a little too quiet after i finished talking so i tried to make it better him by telling him it was “just pseudoscience” because honestly it is. when T didn’t speak for a minute or two after that, B got up to go to the bathroom.

i don’t have a super clear memory of what B’s reaction was since i was focused on T, but i vaguely remember him looking happy about it before T spoke and until i saw his face when he got up i figured he hadn’t been bothered. B is a bubbly kinda guy, always smiling, but when he left he looked hurt, sad…

i was pretty confused. i’m not great at social cues and even worse if nobody tells me how they feel. jfc add drunk on top of it and i’m lost. T and B are usually patient about that and talk it out with me but we only ended up hanging out for maybe 20-30 mins afterward and when T and i left to go home nothing had really been resolved.

i had kinda forgotten about it when i went to bed that night but the next day i woke up to a text from T that essentially said “can you not talk about B and i like that we’ve had this issue before and we’re not gay”

as a queer person, both trans and bisexual, this is always a weird situation for me to be in. i’m not sure how to explain to a straight cis guy that “soulmates” can be platonic. i just texted back saying okay and kinda left it at that and B hasn’t mentioned it not even when i saw him at work yesterday. he seemed kinda quiet once or twice but not much different.

but tonight i have a shift at the same time as T and i’m worried i was already an asshole but that i’ll be an even bigger asshole if i push this topic any further. idk it feels unresolved

tl;dr i implied two of my straight cis guy friends were “soulmates” and one of them got very awkward/defensive about it but the other got kinda sad. i want to ask them more about it and talk about it with them. AITA?

What are these acronyms?