#also still want me to do every damn chore in the house because clearly I’m not exhausted enough as I am already. I want to leave so badly

[whitleyschn33]

RWBY V9E07 Liveblog Thoughts

Hah, actually early for once in my life!

- “May be distressing for some viewers” okaaaaaay, but that’s so incredible vague that it’s kind of useless, RT, at least link to a place to find out what specifically might be triggering or distressing instead of forcing people to seek out what happens in the episode from other sources. (Spoilers: It’s suicidal ideation and off-screen suicide.)

- The bird is cute, but, uh, is it controlling the match?

- As someone that has had to room with multiple people that snore, I commend RWB for not murdering Yang in her sleep. For real though, I do like this quiet moment of Ruby staring at her weapon, it’s nice.

- “I’m late!” ...for a very important date? Shit, though, Jaune’s frantic about this - feels like maybe his confidence he may have built up in the decades may have taken a couple hits yesterday. 

-Oh, arson - and apparently this is a regular occasion. Fire bird?

- ....Did you not notice the paper last night? Jaune’s house has some in it. Also, this score is a bit upbeat for burning a village down.

- Okay, I do kind of like this. Jaune’s somehow settled into basically the role of a huntsman, protecting this village of paper stars from the near certain death they seem to face every day. I like this idea, him taking on the responsibility and clearly treating it with the respect it deserves. The stars remind me of someone/something, but I can’t quite remember what.

- I am a sucker, this is adorable

- “You named them after your teammates?” “No... I named them after everyone.” Okay, but why did you name the blue one Ren? But seriously, not sure how I feel about that. On one hand, names help differentiate and humanize them and can help keep the memories strong, on the other naming them after your friends feels a bit... projectionist? Like, it’s one thing to name the jackalope after your team name, another to give a sentient being the name of one of your best friends.

- Lay off him, Yang - he’s got a job to do, people to protect, and it’s not like you can find something that may not exist. He clearly has been searching when he gets the time, and I suspect that most of it has been under the cover of night when the Paper Pleasers are asleep like the marketplace. 

- The schedule is pretty cute - “watch out for tearable twos” “keep away from Shredder” (please be a TMNT reference), “If you wouldn’t give it to a baby, don’t give it to the Paper Pleasers”, “tea shop fiasco” “Stop the Second Fire”, “sandpaper knife shop”, “STOP. THE. GOOSE.” Seriously, read this thing over if you have the time.

- “Patience pays off” - it does! But what’s the difference between patience that’s self-enforced and patience that’s required?

- “I’m not crazy” Oof... no, you’re not, Jaune. This does seem like he’s been making the best of a bad situation - but if I had to poke holes... what was he doing before he went to the village? He only came after Alyx poisoned him, and he was already much older at that point. Was he still exploring then, or was he just waiting for someone to arrive?

- “We just can’t count on him” - WHAT? BECAUSE HE WANTS YOU TO ACTUALLY GIVE A DAMN ABOUT HELPING HIS VILLAGE? I’m sorry, I thought you were huntresses - you know, people dedicated to helping those that can’t help themselves? I know it’s not fighting off man-eating monsters, but these are life-and-death situations Jaune’s listing off (mostly), not just random chores. He’s established himself as a protector of these innocent people that have helped him and so many others, and you’re acting like he’s asking you to be a janitor or something instead of helping to keep this town safe? What exactly did you expect a huntress to do when they aren’t fighting the Grimm if not help keep the villages safe in other ways? Between this and them just running away from the market, I’m just about done with the girls’ attitudes towards actually doing their damn jobs of helping people.

- Ah, so... all self-inflicted harms. I’m... not sure how I feel about this. The Cat marked ascension as being for when the Ever Afterian has ceased performing its role correctly and needed to be retuned, but the stars seem to think its more like “our work is done, it’s time to move on and be reborn” when that doesn’t seem to jive with what the cat says. They’re still performing their roles just fine, even if they’re at the end of their “arc”, so there’s no need for them to change or ascend if they’re still doing their part. It doesn’t feel right with what we’ve been told about ascension up to this point. And then how this connects to Jaune... with what happened to Penny and him naming the stars after his friends, I understand why he’d be so opposed to them trying to ascend and taking it upon himself to keep them safe, but I hate that this episode will, if it continues to go where I think it will, punish him for this idea, call it wrong for him to stand in the way of the stars and self-inflicted death (I’m wondering if that’s where the content warning is coming in). I also hate that it would let RWBY off the hook, that Jaune was “wasting his time” watching after the village and that he should have just left them to their own devices long ago, thank goodness RWBY’s here to slap him out of that and leave them to die, cause that’s what they want! Yeah, no, I don’t really like this at all.

- Wow. Rude. And how did A MAN IN RUSTY ARMOR SNEAK UP ON YOU. 

- Uhhhhhh.... that’s uncomfortable, and I hate that that undermines the idea that he’s grown to care about the stars, that he’s actually just babysitting stupid children from his POV.

- “Because I can actually protect these people!” Good line - Fall of Atlas trauma, Fall of Atlas trauma, Fall of Atlas trauma -

- Who gave the Ever Afterians a bomb, damn - Ah, Neo, thank you and curse you. Thank you for the potential action scene and a threat that (might) need to be dealt with that causes actual death, curse you from halting the character progression.

- That is the most flat line I think I’ve heard from Weiss - Kara, are you okay? - and thank you, Blake, for admitting you all just ran away last time because so many people in the FNDM seem to think that they were just evacuating.

- An alright action scene! I really appreciate that they’re working as a team, that it’s a group fight instead of one on one duels happening next to each other, even if some of the choreography is lacking. Ruby’s visions are also refreshing, seeing her actually suffering from flashbacks and PTSD, and the movements of the Jabberwalker as it morphs and creaks are very well done, very unsettling.

- “They eat and grow” ....Actually yeah, what the hell is up with that? That’s not just glass illusions, that’s creation.

- WOULD YOU LET THE GIRL ACTUALLY HAVE HER TRAUMA ARC INSTEAD OF CUTTING AWAY FROM IT EVERY TIME THE OTHERS MIGHT ACTUALLY NOTICE?

- Yeah, I.... really don’t like the framing of this. At all. Like this was nothing, that those aren’t lives that were still ended, even if you believe they were reborn (even if that’s the most convenient explanation for you -).

- But that scene was refreshing as all hell. See what happens when you let character actually disagree and fight? I want that Ruby telling off B///B gif on my desk stat, btw. I feel like I should probably break down the entire argument, but that would take more time than I have (it’s my birth-weekend, woooo!), so I’ll just say I really enjoyed finally getting past all the bullshit interruptions and letting Ruby actually vent, letting Jaune vent, let the characters actually fight and be truly upset and frustrated in a way that’s not petty. Good job, why couldn’t we have gotten to this sooner?

This is honestly probably the best (or at least most well executed on a structural level) episode of the volume so far. It actually let the characters talk and fight, it used the Ever After set piece to its advantage for once in forwarding character development (which only really the Herbalist has done so far imo, which is a shame), and had a fight scene with an alright song. I’m... really not comfortable at all with how the ascension idea was handled, though, either tonally or in how it affects RWBY’s frustration with actually having to give a damn about living people - no, it’s okay to not want to keep them safe! They want to die anyway, and Jaune’s just sitting around protecting the equivalent of paper puppets instead of actual sentient beings he wants to keep safe, isn’t that insane? Like, way to let them off the hook of actually having to make a hard decisions or do their job in any way. And this hot off the heals of Jaune helping Penny commit assisted suicide? Framing this mass-suicide as something that’s okay because they wanted it and believe that they’ll just be reborn, and Jaune as in the wrong for not wanting them to hurt themselves? It leaves a really bad fucking taste in my mouth. 

[flippedorbit]

I don’t want to fucking be here anymore I’m sick of putting up with everything and bottling up every single feeling and opinion I have and experience all to keep everyone else happy

[zeroweeenies]

“Checkmate”

Desc: you and megumi play a “game” after your date plans get cancelled from the blizzard.

Character(s): Megumi x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

an: whichever anon requested this I hope you see this ♡

94: “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to”

98: “First one to make noise loses”

126: “Y-you’re not wearing anything under that are you?”

WARNINGS: 69-ing, reverse cowgirl, mirror fucking, anal mentioned, competitive reader, not proof read, aged up megumi, 18+ minors dni

The snowstorm had ruined all of your plans.

You and your boyfriend had been planning this date for your two year anniversary for weeks now, so you were disappointed when you found that your car was snowed in on the sidewalk. The city buses and trains were out of service as well, and cab services refused to travel in the frigid weather.

You were on the brink of tears before you felt Fushiguro approach you from behind and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I’m sorry baby, we can order out if you want.” he speaks into the crook of your neck

You push back the tears that were welling in your eyes “I was really looking forward to this ‘Gumi, do you know how long we’ve been talking about this? Tonight was important.”

It was true. You managed to get a reservation at one of the most renowned restaurants in the city. It also didn’t help that you put on your most expensive attire, a silken black dress that stopped just above your knee with a back that sloped down to the top of your bum and the neckline resting at the top of your breasts.

You even made efforts to do your makeup and style your hair neatly.

“And it’s all ruined because of this stupid storm,” you kicked your foot at the wall and crossed your arms in true brat frashion.

Megumi took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well it doesn’t have to be completely ruined. How ‘bout we watch some tv?” he suggested “Order some food, hm? I know you’re hungry” he planted kisses to shoulder and neck whilst rubbing your hip tenderly.

“Tch, whatever.” you stated, walking off to wherever.

Poor Megumi. He just wanted to make his girlfriend happy despite the unfortunate circumstances they found themselves in, and here she was being a brat.

The dark haired boy rubbed the area between his eyes and loosened his tie before taking out his phone to call the pizza delivery service.

You were sitting in the living room watching tv, legs sprawled across the length of the couch with your head in Megumi’s lap when you heard the doorbell ring. “I’ll get it!” you sprung up from your position on the couch, sprinting to the door.

When you open the door, you’re met with the pizza delivery guy.

“Thanks.” you grab the box from his hands containing the food. “How much do I owe you?” you avert your gaze

The male in front of you scans his eyes up and down your body, taking in your appearance. His eyes land on your breasts before speaking again. “It’s on the house,” he smiles nervously. “You look stunning. Can I have your number?”

You can’t even finish your next sentence before you feel a looming presence behind you, gripping the side of your waist firmly.

“She does look beautiful doesn’t she?” Megumi kisses the side of your cheek possessively, causing your face to heat up. “Anyways thanks for the free pizza, man” he smiles as the driver protests before slamming the door.

You stroll back to the couch, scolding Megumi for being rude. “You didn’t have to close the door in his face.”

“Are you really defending him? He was clearly trying to hit on you.”

“Yeah, but he was sweet” you smile, taking a bite from your food before you feel a stiff grip around your neck.

“Oh yeah?” he turns your face to meet his glare. “Maybe I should get you a collar so you don’t forget who you belong to, bunny.”

You smile up at him “Don’t threaten me with a good time babe.” He releases your neck, turning his attention to the tv.

“You’re such a damn brat.” he chuckles to himself, finally taking a slice of pizza into his mouth.

“Mmm, but you love it” you reply cheekily, snuggling under his arm to get warm.

It felt like hours had passed, and you felt yourself growing bored. You complain to Megumi next to you, who was on the verge of sleep.

“How about we play a game?”

A game? You wondered what he had in mind.

“A sex game. It would be just like all the other times we’ve done it, with a few rules in place of course.”

You sat up to look at him “What are the rules?”

Megumi was interested now. He smirked before explaining the stipulations. “First one to make noise loses. Breathing is allowed, but if you breathe too loud you lose. Cursing is allowed as well.”

“And what do I get if I win?” you pique.

“What is it that you want?” You reflected over the question. There was a stuffie that you really wanted that you saw at the mall the other day, or you could make your boyfriend do something embarrassing. And there was always the option of making him do house chores for a certain period of time.

You think over it a while longer before the perfect idea pops into your head “If I win, I want to dom you.”

Megumi always fulfilled the dominant role in the bedroom, forcing you to always submit to him, bending you to his every will. As much as you enjoyed letting him take control, you sought to bring him to his knees.

“Okay.”

Your eyes widen, surprised by his answer. “You’re sure?”

He nods his head “Yeah. I don’t mind playing subby for you. But I still haven’t said what I wanted yet.”

Your eyebrow ticked up. You knew it was almost too good to be true. Your heart raced in anticipation over what Megumi could possibly want as his prize.

“Anal. If I win, I get to fuck you in the ass.”

Your mouth gaped open at the request. It’s not like you were uncomfortable with his request. Hell, you and Megumi were always trying new things in the bedroom. The most he’s done was stick his tongue in your ass. But full on butt stuff was a whole new territory for you.

Megumi encouraged you to step out of your comfort zone, but he’d never pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do. If there was something you didn’t like and you wanted him to stop he’d stop immediately, no questions asked.

“Okay,” you swallowed. “When does the game start?”

“Now” Megumi stated, attacking your lips hungrily. You were overwhelmed by the kiss, running out of breath as he pulled you into his lap.

You ran your fingers through his unusually styled hair, tugging lightly as he ground his hips up to meet your cunt. Megumi could feel your naked heat against his pants, causing him to let out a shaky breath.

“Y-you’re not wearing anything under that are you?” Megumi breaks the kiss, breath ragged as he stares down at where your bodies collide.

“Nope,” you state, popping the ‘p’ as you connect your lips with his jawline.

You were completely naked save the dress you were wearing in hopes that Megumi would fool around with you under the table at your date, but of course that plan was out of mind now.

Sucking bruises into Megumi’s neck, he trails his hand down to your already dripping slit to get you to moan, caressing your clit in small circles.

You nearly mewl at the sensation, almost forgetting the rules of the game. You knew what he was trying to do, but you weren’t going to let him win that easily.

“‘Gumi come on, I need it.” you rocked your hips against him, desperate for him to stop toying with you.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, princess” he slows the motions on your clit tantalizingly, groping your breast with the straps of your dress falling off your shoulders.

“Fuck me, make me cum. Do something, anything, please.” In one swift motion, Megumi picks you up and carries you into the bedroom, practically throwing you onto the bed.

Situating himself on the bed, he pats his lap, a quiet gesture that you’re familiar with.

You bit your lip, turning your body until your pussy was angled right in front of his face.

You gripped his hard on through his pants that were already stained with precum, earning a whispered “fuck” from him.

You took his dick out, licking the tip before taking him all the way in your warm mouth.

Megumi threw his head back continuing to toy with your clit under your dress.

You were sucking him so good, taking his cock all the way to the back of your throat while vacuuming your cheeks. You bobbed your head up and down, gagging each time you felt his length touch your esophagus.

With Megumi’s strangled grunts and the way you were sucking him you were sure that you were going to win, until you felt his mouth on you.

Fushiguro’s cock slipped from your mouth as he sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling his tongue around his mouth. The way he ate you felt so good, your orgasm already coiling in your lower belly.

Megumi was a fighter and he was playing to win, but so were you. As good as it felt, you weren’t going to let him have this, especially when you were so close to winning.

His cock twitched in your mouth, signaling that he was close. You sucked him harder, faster, your hand fisting him in an effort to get him to cum quicker.

Knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer, Megumi pulled you off of him by your hair, a string of drool connecting your mouth to his cock.

He positioned himself behind you, rubbing his length up and down your glistening folds.

“Can’t have you ending the game early, now can I?”

“You’re a dirty fucking chea-” you managed to get out as he plunged into you, his fat head grazing your cervix.

Your eyes shut from the sudden penetration, your mouth open with saliva running down your chin as Megumi thrusts in and out of you roughly, the only sounds filling the room being silent curses and the lewd squelches of your sloppy cunt.

“Look at you, what a desperate little cockslut,” he pulls your head up to face the mirror that sits in front of your bed, your ruined makeup on display. “Look at how I fuck you, only I can fuck you like this,” you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, Megumi pulling your hair harshly making your back arch at a painful angle.

“You gonna cum? Come on baby, cum for me so I can win. I’m dying to fuck this little ass”

You push him off of you causing him to fall back on his elbows. “Shut the fuck up.” You slide up and down him at the new angle, your ass bouncing beautifully as Megumi lets out a slew of curses from behind you.

Your victory felt so close as you felt his cock twitch inside you, milking him for all he was worth. Your win was snatched from you, feeling Megumi’s thumb press inside your asshole, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Checkmate,” Megumi sits up and begins to drill your cunt, your breasts bouncing as he ruthlessly fucks into your hole.

“Y-you cheated,” you sniffle, tears brimming your eyes as you realize your loss.

“Awww, don’t be a sore loser baby, you lost fair and square.” he drags his cock out of you before slamming back into you, every thrust making you cry out more than the last.

“Now cum for me like a good girl” he reaches forward to pinch your clit, making you cum instantly.

The moans you had been holding back the entire time spill out, the aftershocks of your orgasm crashing over you. Megumi pulls out, shooting his seed on your back. You sink into the mattress, sobbing over the realization of your defeat.

“Don’t cry pretty girl,” He smiled breathlessly.

“I haven’t even claimed my prize yet.”

[rafael-silva]

at your fingertips: a tarlos fic

When Carlos watches a video of TK working out at the firehouse in one of his old police academy t-shirts, he plans on showing TK just how much he appreciates seeing him in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the paramedic has on him once he gets home. Plus, Carlos has a comeback of his own.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + wearing each other’s clothes

making out, kissing, neck kissing, soft carlos reyes/tk strand, sharing clothes, mild hurt/comfort, they are so in love, cuddling 

3.3k | rated M | on ao3

*****

Carlos is in the middle of doing some chores around the house on his day off when he decides to take a break and scroll through Instagram.

He heads into the kitchen, fetching a cold bottle of water and retreats into the living room, falling backwards on the couch, relishing the feeling of the soft cushions under and behind him. After opening the app, he spots a new Instastory from Marjan and touches his finger to the screen there, playing it.

Carlos is glad he hadn’t taken a sip of water yet. Because he most likely would have choked on it from what his eyes are met with.

His eyebrows travel up his forehead a little and he knows the heat climbing his face isn’t from exhaustion or from moving around the house for the past couple of hours.

No. It’s from the video she’s uploaded.

TK, Paul and Mateo seem to be in the middle of some kind of challenge, a workout challenge. Marjan is clearly amused and entertained by the three men, judging by her off-screen laugh. Carlos knows that he’d probably be just as amused too if he were actually watching the video as a whole.

Carlos isn’t really aware of anything in that video except how damn good TK looks in one of his own old police academy t-shirts.

He had noticed that that shirt had mysteriously disappeared (or not so mysteriously when TK is his boyfriend) and now Carlos knew exactly what TK, and that t-shirt, were up to. He always knew TK looked good in his clothes, and knowing how the paramedic is very much a super ambitious clothes hoarder, he always looked forward to seeing TK in his clothes. Most of those moments a surprise, and the anticipation would also excite Carlos.

And boy, was this moment right now a surprise of its own. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, the possibility of TK wearing Carlos’s clothes at the firehouse, so that video kind of short-circuited Carlos’s brain, in a good way.

There is just something about the way his t-shirt hugs TK’s body, it had shrunk a little from wash after wash over the years, making it a perfect fit for TK. It fits his body like a glove, the sweat also making the shirt cling to his chest, leaving nothing to imagination. Not only that, but TK had gone ahead and rolled the short sleeves up to his shoulders, showing off his incredibly toned biceps as he lifts and lowers the dumbbells.

The video is over way too quickly. And if Carlos touches the screen again to reply it, well, who can blame him?

The officer’s body feels alive now, heat coursing through his veins. The tiredness that was lingering before is long gone now, replaced with fire. The effect TK has on him, even through a video, never fails to completely and utterly blow Carlos’s mind.

He draws in a deep breath and wills his heart to calm down, his eyes moving to the time on his phone. TK has six more hours for his shift and then he’ll be home.

Or, better yet, six more hours and Carlos can show TK how much he appreciates seeing TK in his clothes and the full scale of the effect the younger man has on him.

And if Carlos finishes the chores and errands while simultaneously counting down the minutes and having that Instagram story playing on a loop in his head, again, who can blame him?

*****

TK is pushing the condo door open and dropping his keys into the bowl nearby a little over six hours later. Carlos turns his attention from where he’s standing in the kitchen, and seeing TK stride in and dropping his duffel near the door, is all it takes for the officer to abandon the task at hand (putting away clean dishes) and makes his way towards his boyfriend.

Seeing TK in the flesh is more than enough to ignite the sparks that have been growing in Carlos’s stomach into a fire.

TK smiles sweetly at Carlos and then Carlos is on him, holding his face in place and cutting off TK’s “hey babe” by capturing TK’s lips in a hot kiss.

TK’s response is instant, his hands immediately going to grab at the back of Carlos’s t-shirt and he returns the kiss with the same fervor and heat. The kiss quickly turns messy, full of tongue, teeth and noses clashing.

Carlos swipes his tongue over TK’s bottom lip and proceeds to take TK’s same lip between his teeth, softly biting down just the way TK likes. And TK doesn’t hold back an inch of the heavy moan that escapes him at that.

The contrast in Carlos during these moments steals TK’s breath away, how Carlos can be so excited and on edge like this and is always very gentle at the same time. It makes TK’s head swim with how much he loves and wants Carlos.

Once he releases TK’s lip, Carlos moves down onto his neck, licking and sucking every patch of skin he comes in contact with. He takes it all in, inhaling TK’s scent, TK’s taste on his lips, TK’s small movements under his hold.

TK moves his head to the side and back, giving Carlos better access and exposing more skin for him. And by the small growl Carlos lets out, TK knows the larger man appreciates it.

“Who’s the tiger now?” TK says, teasing breathlessly.

He gets a small bite and swipe of a tongue over the area in response.

TK’s hand finds its way to Carlos’s loose curls, settling on Carlos’s head there.

Carlos then returns to TK’s face, giving him another heated kiss and it’s TK’s turn to hold Carlos’s face in his palms. Carlos is radiating heat, his face flushed red and the look he’s giving TK makes the paramedic shiver.

“Hmm,” TK hums, eyes glittering with pride. “I see it worked.”

Carlos watches TK for a few moments before replying, but then he instantly sees through a few things. The way TK walked into the condo, the flashes of pride on his face now, TK knew exactly what he was doing. And, oh.

“Wait,” Carlos’s eyebrows lift slightly. “Did you orchestrate this?”

TK can’t hold back, he drops his head for a second before meeting Carlos’s gaze again, his expression playful. “I think orchestrate is too big of a word…I saw an opportunity and made the best of it. Besides, I was looking forward to seeing and hearing what it did to you. Couldn’t wait to come home to this.”

Carlos shakes his head, intrigued and the thought that TK knew how Carlos would react and waiting to come home to him, to this, turns him on even more. Carlos doesn’t waste a single second in claiming TK’s lips in another passionate kiss. TK gives as good as he gets, and in an instant, he’s turning them around and pushing Carlos back against the wall behind them.

He pulls back, latching onto Carlos’s neck and peppering it with kisses and nibbles here and there.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about that video all damn day. You’re such a tease sometimes, you know that?” Carlos speaks, his voice husky as he runs his fingers through TK’s once-neat hair.

TK pulls back enough to answer Carlos. “Maybe,” he replies with a smirk. “I had something better than that video,” he adds with a pant and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Carlos’s eyes go wide at that, starring directly into TK’s, the sheer want radiating from the officer’s brown eyes heat up TK’s face even more and makes his heat skip a beat. Carlos’s brain definitely conjures up an image of that selfie, and it increases the fire bubbling inside his stomach.

It stills makes TK a little dizzy and weak in the knees up until this day, every time he’s reminded the effect he has on Carlos, and it takes his breath away when he sees and feels how much Carlos Reyes wants him.

TK’s hands go back to Carlos’s face, cupping his cheeks and tenderly running his thumb over his cheekbones, Carlos leans into his touch and TK gives him a warm, soft smile.

“A selfie,” TK clarifies his last statement. “A sweaty selfie,” he purrs, his voice low and slow.

That’s all it takes for the little brown remaining in Carlos’s irises to completely fuse with the black now, his eyes not leaving TK’s flushed face.

“But Marjan beat me, posting that video and I knew it would also do the trick,” TK winks.

Carlos takes his own bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on his flesh while watching TK.

“Yeah, you always are a tease. A very sexy one,” he whispers before going back to showering TK’s neck with kisses.

“You love it,” TK quips back.

Carlos can’t see his face, but he knows the the smirk is widening on his boyfriend’s face, he can feel it. He’s pulling back slightly, his own face red and hot.

“You know I do,” Carlos replies, stealing TK’s breath with another kiss, but this one is more emotional. It’s like TK is his lifeline, and in more ways than one, he truly is.

TK doesn’t hold back, pouring everything he feels for Carlos into the kiss, the want, the love, the need for this man, and he deepens it, until they both become one, tangled together, not knowing where one end and the other begins. Neither of them know which of them is responsible for the moan that emits between them and neither of them care.

“I’m gonna need to see that selfie later,” Carlos heaves into the small space between them when they eventually separate. He cups TK’s face, running a thumb over TK’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

They stop moving for a few moments, Carlos touching his forehead to TK’s and they just breathe together, breathe each other in, savouring this moment, engulfed in each other’s arms and love.

Carlos then brushes a tentative kiss to TK’s lips before pulling back and making his way to the stairs, his hand holding TK’s and pulling him along.

They hurry up the stairs and then it’s Carlos’s turn to gently push TK against the first wall they meet in their bedroom, framing TK’s body with his own. Carlos closes the distance between them, devouring TK’s lips, drinking TK in like he’s the first drop of water he has had in days.

Carlos grabs at TK’s hoodie, and they separate only long enough to remove it, followed by both of their shirts meeting somewhere on the floor. Carlos goes for TK’s belt next, whipping it off and discarding it somewhere near their shirts, the belt clattering on the floor where it lands.

TK pulls Carlos impossibly closer to him, their bare chests colliding and resting against each other. The mutual heat going off both of them in waves is almost too much to handle.

Carlos’s hands squeeze between them, finding their goal and unbuttoning TK’s jeans while TK’s go to the strings of Carlos’s sweats, pulling them loose.

“Off,” TK mumbles against Carlos’s lips.

“All in good time,” Carlos smirks in response.

TK is already so far gone he can scarcely believe it. His world has narrowed down to Carlos’s touches, his kisses, his beautiful skin and toned muscles. Narrowed down to Carlos.

The larger man pulls back, and something akin to a whine escapes TK’s lips at the loss of Carlos and his warmth. He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it, though, because he’s being pulled towards the bed by Carlos and finds himself falling backwards on the mattress.

TK takes a second to adjust himself before Carlos is crawling on top of him, a hand on either side of TK’s head as he lowers himself and claims TK’s lips once again, a knee settling between TK’s open legs.

A hungry moan is heard from TK as he returns the kiss, his arms scrambling and wrapping around Carlos’s back, pulling him closer and then softly scratching his nails down the expanse of Carlos’s skin there, with just enough pressure he knows the officer likes.

He gets an immediate response from Carlos as he breaks the kiss and buries his face in TK’s neck, breathing a moan there.

Carlos begins to moves south, focusing on TK’s chest, every inch of it. He drops kisses here and there and stops at TK’s bullet wound scar, slightly discolored and standing out against the rest of TK’s skin.

His breath hitches a little at the reminder of just how close he had gotten to loosing TK, how close they had gotten to losing all of this. Flashes of that night take over his mind; hearing the radio call about a firefighter being shot after he had left the house, wishing he could take the first u-turn and race to the hospital while praying and praying it wasn’t TK. Having his heart ripped out of his chest when he finds out his fear had come true when Paul called him. Then hours later, standing in the hospital room doorway, tears clinging to his eyes, watching TK on the hospital bed, too still, too pale. Running his fingers through TK’s hair, and that time, unlike when TK would lean into his touch, getting no response. A light shudder runs through his body.

Knowing where Carlos’s thoughts have taken him, TK reaches out a hand and places it under Carlos’s chin, guiding his face towards him.

“Come back to me, ‘Los,” TK whispers. “I’m right here, baby.”

Carlos goes easily with him, looking into TK’s eyes and there’s so much he carries in those green irises, so much love and affection, so much promise and joy, accompanied with heat and want, and it’s all there for him.

Carlos nods and dives down, a passionate kiss erupting between them and TK lets Carlos take control and the lead, knowing that’s exactly what he needs right now. To feel TK, in every way. TK runs a hand through Carlos’s curls while the other cups his face.

“You’re beautiful, Ty,” Carlos admires. “Every inch of you, all of you, it’s you and it’s beautiful beyond words.”

The love and sincerity echoing off Carlos’s tone melts TK into a puddle. His heart swells in his chest at those words, knowing they come from the bottom of Carlos’s heart. He sees and feels the love Carlos has for him every minute of every day.

And TK will do everything in his power to make Carlos feel just as loved as he feels.

“You’re quite breathtaking yourself,” TK replies, his voice filled with emotion. “In every way. And it blows my mind that you’re mine.”

Carlos nods. “I am yours, and you are mine. My mind is just as blown as yours.”  

They soon become a heap of tangled limbs, last pieces of clothing taken off and discarded here and there. The flame now burns brightly and hotly between them, the sparks surging through their bodies as they become one, electrified by each other in every way, roused by each other’s everything. They give each other their all, pouring everything they’re feeling and everything they are and it’s all understood, it’s reciprocated, it’s everything they need. And it’s perfect.

*****

Later in the night, TK is lying on his side of the bed, scrolling through Instagram when a text pops up on the top of his screen. He laughs when his eyes go over the words.

Marjan: You’re welcome, lover boy. ;)

TK: How did you even…

Marjan: Intuition. Also, I saw that Carlos watched that video. Plus, you looked smug leaving the firehouse after shift. Just putting the pieces of the puzzle together.

TK: I thought it was Paul’s thing to be, well…this.

Marjan: I have my moments, too.

Marjan: And Paul had agreed with me.

TK chuckles, hearing the smirk Marjan is most definitely wearing through her texts.

He hears footsteps making their way into the bedroom and he’s about to mention the text conversation to Carlos but the words stop short on his tongue when his eyes land on his boyfriend.

Carlos is standing tall, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, and in all his glory, is wearing TK’s black Austin FD hoodie.

And by the look decorating the officer’s face, he knows exactly what it’s doing to TK. Sure, it’s not a clingy t-shirt while working out, but he knows how much TK loves hoodies. It’s a subtle comeback, and with how TK is looking at him right now and the pink color painting his cheeks, it’s working.

The text messages go forgotten as TK’s eyes roam over Carlos’s figure, admiring the way his hoodie wraps around Carlos’s chest and arms. It’s a little snug at the biceps, and that just adds to the exquisite sight in front of him.

“Touché,” TK grins approvingly.

Carlos chuckles and pushes himself off the door frame, walking over and joining TK in bed.

“I was looking for it and then I remembered it was in the dryer,” Carlos says, pulling the blankets over them.

“I’m glad you found it,” TK winks and brushes a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “You look good in my hoodie.”

He accepts the invitation of Carlos’s open arms and snuggles close, resting his head over Carlos’s chest and draping an arm over his middle.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?” Carlos looks at TK, his arm wrapped around his shoulder.

TK lifts his head so he looks into Carlos’s eyes. “I love you.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a soft smile, the smile that is reserved for only TK. “I love you, too, baby.”

They share a tentative kiss, tender and sweet.

“Oh!” TK says when they pull apart, his eyes sparkling as he reaches for his phone.

Carlos raises an amused eyebrow at his boyfriend and his phone pings a moment later.

He reaches for it and the text preview on his lock screen has him looking at TK with a fiery gaze.

TK blushes more under Carlos’s watch as a smirk takes over his face.

“You asked and you shall receive,” TK quips.

It’s the sweaty selfie Carlos was promised earlier. It’s more defined than the video, though the video had the grace of TK moving in that t-shirt, but the selfie holds the wonder of being up-close. The video hadn’t left anything to imagination, but the selfie goes a step further, not only showing the very satisfied look TK is wearing, but also showoff the edges of his well-defined abs, his strained biceps and the glint in his eyes, speaking volumes through the photo. It’s all on display for Carlos, and for Carlos only now.

And even though TK is right here, right next to him and he can reach out and touch everything in that picture, the selfie still leaves Carlos breathless. The effect TK has on him has Carlos going a little lightheaded, a familiar sensation of want brewing in his gut.

“Oh, Ty,” Carlos whispers before capturing TK’s lips in a kiss more heated than the previous one.

TK chuckles as he returns it, all-consumed by the rush that runs through his veins with his and Carlos’s tongues brush against each other.

“You know,” Carlos pants, his tongue darting out to swipe at his lips, TK following the gesture. “I have a couple more shirts you can borrow.”

“Hm,” TK replies, drawing in his own bottom lip between his teeth. “I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

Carlos smirks, a hand cupping TK’s face and runs his thumb over his cheek.

TK chuckles, a hand traveling to the nape of Carlos’s neck and pulls him in, connecting them with another kiss.

[moonlit-han]

part ii: filled with sunshine

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read part 1 first! ~

✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.

↠↞

You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.

Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.

As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.

After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.

y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun

No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.

y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than

No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to

Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!

There. That was good. Okay . . . send!

You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.

jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.

You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.

y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?

You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.

jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*

A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely.  He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.

All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.

Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.

On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.

Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.

“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.

When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.

“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.

“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.

When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.

The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.

“You like it?” Jisung asked.

“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.

“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”

Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.

“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”

After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.

“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.

“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?

“And you’re handsome,” you replied.

Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.

Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.

You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”

“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.

“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”

Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.

Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.

“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.

“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.

“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.

Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.

Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”

You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.

You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”

Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.

“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.

“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”

After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.

“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”

Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.

Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.

“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”

Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”

You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.

“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.

You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.

Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”

“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.

You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.

“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.

Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.

“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.

He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.

Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.

“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.

He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.

“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”

“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.

Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.

“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”

Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.

As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.

“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” you said, looking up at him.

“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”

“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.

You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.

Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.

Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.

“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.

“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.

After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”

“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.

“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.

“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”

After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”

Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.

“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.

“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.

“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”

You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”

You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”

“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.

“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”

Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”

“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”

“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.

“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.

↠↞

Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.

“Y/N?”

Oh, no.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.

“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.

“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”

“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.

“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”

“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”

“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.

“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.

“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.

“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.

You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.

“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.

That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.

y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*

As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.

↠↞

On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.

“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.

“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”

“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”

This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.

As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.

When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.

Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.

In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.

“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.

“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.

“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”

You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…

“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.

“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.

“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”

“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”

“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”

“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”

You nodded and stood to follow him.

A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.

Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”

You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.

“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”

You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”

“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.

After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.

Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—

“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”

Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”

You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”

“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”

Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.

“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.

“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.

You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.

You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.

↠↞

When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”

Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”

“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”

Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.

You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.

“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.

“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.

When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.

While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.

Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin. 

Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.

“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.

You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.

Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.

↠↞

“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.

“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”

“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.

“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”

“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”

Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”

“Yeah?”

“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”

Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.

So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.

“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.

“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”

“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.

Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.

“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.

“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.

When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.

You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.

But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.

↠↞

The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.

You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.

“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.

“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.

“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.

And then . . .

It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.

You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.

Shit.

Shit!!

Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.

“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.

“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.

“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.

“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.

“Well?” Jisung demanded.

“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”

“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.

“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”

“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.

“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.

“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.

“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.

“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.

Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”

You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.

“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.

“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.

“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.

[words-for-holland]

Quarantine Series: Silence is Golden?

Pairing: Tom Holland X Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N don’t get into a lot of fights, but this one will leave you speechless...literally.

Check the Rest: Burnt Out | A New Look | Secret Cuts & Kisses | Breaking Friendships |The Birthday Week | Movie Night

A/N: Hey! Did you know I created a Masterlist?! You can view here (X)!

Every couple has their good and bad days. Some people will even say it’s healthy to have a little dispute once and awhile. For Y/N and Tom, the bad days just kept on coming. Maybe it was due to the work piling up on Y/N’s plate lately, or the fact that Tom was stressing about going to Berlin in 2 weeks for his work. Either way, both of them were under pressure, and with everything going on, it’d be no surprise that even the smallest things would irritate them.

“Tom I told you to put your luggage off to the side. One of us is going to trip with all this shit in our room.” Y/N scolded as she pushed the black luggage to the side of wall.

Tom was sitting in bed, rolling his eyes at his fiance’s comment and went back to focusing on his script. “Well, maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal if you just cleaned the room every weekend like you were supposed to do.” He grumbled as he highlighted his lines.

“I was working the entire weekend. I told you I had a huge release to prep for and last time I rememebered I’m your fiance not your maid. It wouldn’t kill if you could just do some of the chores in the house instead of having me, Harry, Harrison, or Tuwaine do it for you.” She argued, glaring down at Tom with her arms crossed. “Just cause your some hot shot celebrity doesn’t mean you can just sit there and do jack shit.”

Tom looked at her with surprise and anger. He just about had it up to here with her nagging. Tom loves Y/N, but sometimes, like tonight, she was really getting on his nerves, and the next few things he says to her were not so pretty. “Can you just shut up?! You’re always telling me what to do, what not to do, to stop doing this and stop doing that, and god the never-ending chatter that comes out of your mouth.” He spits out not even paying attention to how Y/N was reacting. “Some people actually do prefer some peace and quiet. God, I really can’t wait to go to Berlin just so I don’t have to hear that god awful nagging of yours.” Tom shakes his head as he looks back at his script, until he realized what just came out of his mouth...complete and utter bullshit that he didn’t mean.

It was Y/N’s turn to be surprised. In fact she was speechless, not really knowing what to say to his rant. It hurt a lot, as if her heart had just broken in a million pieces. If there was one thing you needed to know about Y/N, it was that she valued everyone’s view and opinion of her. So, you can best believe that if someone had a problem with her, she would not take it lightly. When it comes from the person you love the most...well...one can’t even begin to fathom how much it could hurt.

Tears were forming and streaming down her eyes, as small sniffles start to escape. Her tiny hands balling up into a fist. She wasn’t just upset, she was furious. “Well, if thats how you feel then, I don’t know why you’d want to be with a person that doesn’t shut up...Cause clearly I’m not good enough.”

Tom starts to sit up on the bed and lean towards her, trying to apologize profusely, but it was a lost cause that couldn’t be taken back. She runs out of the room with her stuff as she moves to the guest room to cry herself to sleep. Tom stays in their bedroom as he looks up at the ceiling with a disappointed face. “What have I done?” He whispers to himself, only praying they would be able to make up in the morning.

The next day, Tom wakes up extra early to prepare a ‘Sorry I’m such a div. Please forgive me’ breakfast with chocholate chip pancakes, bluerberry smoothies, and apple turnovers from her favorite coffeshop in London. And if that wasn’t enough...he had also brought her a bouquet of red roses. He awaited for her to come down, with everything set. As the boys came by to eat their share of the breakfast, Y/N comes down to akward silence. Everyone staring at her and Tom standing in the middle smiling with flowers in hand.

“Morning Y/N.” The boys say in unison.

“Morning boys...Tom.” Y/N mumbes the last word as she makes her way. They continue to talk and eat amongst themselves as Y/N looks for a seat to sit at, but sadly the only one available is the one next to Tom. He looks at her with his brown puppy dog eyes, silently pleading for her to sit next to him. Y/N gets the message as she rolls her eyes, and tales the seat. He present her the flowers once again, smiling off his boyish charm. “Darling, Im so sorry for the way I acted I didn’t mean it. Please don’t be mad at me. I love you so much.”

Y/N takes the flowers and nods, as she goes back to her breakfast. She ate rather quickly as to make sure she didnt have to deal with anyone and went straight back to the guest room. Tom slouches in his seat, sighing in defeat. “Great the silent treatment.” He says out loud.

“Damn, Tom you must have really fucked up.” Tuwaine said as he took a bite of his pancakes.

“Yeah mate, what did you do?” Harrison asked, intrigued by his best friend’s dilemma.

“You couldn’t hear them? They fought because Tom couldnt do a simple job and then called Y/N a talkative nagging piece of work” Harry answered him, stifiling a laugh. “Im sure the whole world could have heard him.”

“You also forgot, how he said he’d rather be in Berlin than be here with her.” Tuwain mentioned.

Tom glares at his younger brother and Tuwaine, giving them a good shove on the shoulder. “Hey, don’t be mad at me. I’m not the one that had to get his shit together.” Harry defends taking his last bite.

“What do I do? She wont even talk to me and I went through all this work to apologize to her.” Tom asks as he stares at the floor solemnly. “I don’t want her to be mad at me.”

“I don’t know mate. Maybe just earn her trust again. Im sure youll both work it out...you always do.” Harrison reassures him as he makes his way to wash the dishes.

Later that night, Tom passes by Y/N as she makes her way to the bathroom across their bedroom. Tom tried his best to set up the bed as if she was staying with him, fluffing the pillows, pulking down the comforters, and turning up the AC. As Y/N finishes up, she sees him standing at the edge of the bed, waiting for her to join him. “Please? I cleaned up the room and gave you your favorite pillow because you know you cant sleep without it.” He pleads, pouting with his lower lip sticking up.

Y/N looks at the tidy room and the pillow he left her. She smiles when she takes notice of the the one pillow with flowers and ripped edges. It was her favorite pillow since she was 5 and sworn to everyone that it was the only pillowcase she could ever sleep peacefully in. With the thought and gesture Tom made today, Y/N figured it was the least she could do, though it didn’t mean he was forgiven compeltely yet. Tom smiles at his first victory as he climbs in the bed with her. He tries to snuggle closer and wrap his stron arm across her waist, whispering “I love you and I really am sorry.”

Y/N wasn’t too comfortable getting this close still, and ultimately took his hand that was on her waist and dropped it to his side. Tom, felt a slight hinge of sadness when she did that. She never refused his cuddles and anytime they had a fight they would always make up before rhe end of the day. He sighs loudly in silence. Y/N turns around to face his back, and leans over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, which takes him by surprise. “I love you” she whispers, going back to her side of the bed.

The next day, Tom decides to take a quick trip to his parents house, who greet him with ipen arms. Though, both his parents, Paddy and Sam, notice the distress on his face. “What’s wrong son?” Tom’s mum asked with worry.

“Mum, Dad...I messed up.” He cries. “ I was just really stressed out this past week, with the movie, and the fans, and thinking about how I have to leave Y/N for Berlin...I-I- just said a lot of stupid things to her that I didnt mean.”

Tom’s mom rubs her son’s back as she tries to console him and calm his breathing. “There. There. Its going to be okay. You know Y/N loves you so much. Im sure you’ll both get through this.”

“That’s the thing mum. I don’t know if we can. She won’t even talk to me. I made her breakfast gave her flowers and even cleaned our room liek she asked me too. I don’t know what else to do to show her that I truly sorry.I told her I can’t wait to go to Berlin so I did have to hear her talk, but thats far from the truth. I don’t want to leave her when we’ve had all this time together.”

“Hmm...perhaps you should do the things that she doesn’t ask you to do. You know Y/N is also stressed with her job as well, she might not have time to get around to all the things that need to be done. Also tell her how you really feel besides that you’re sorry and you love her. You know both of you have had a hard week and there’s a lot of feelings bottled up inside. Just be honest with your feelings. I know you didn’t mean it and Im sure she knows too.”

Tom smiles at the last sentence, realizing the two haven’t really committed to the rules they promised each other, be honest and communicate with each other. “You’re right, Mum. I cant even remember the last time we really talked.” Tom got up up quickly whiping away the dry tears. “I’m gonna go make things right with Y/N. Thank you for everything. I love you.” Tom hugs his mother, before he makes his way ready to set things right.

As he pulls up to the house, Tom is ince again by the door with flowers in hand. Y/N sliently looks at him as she tilts her head curious as to why he’s on his toes...and with more flowers in hand. “Look you don’t have to say anything because I’m gonna be doing all the talking right now.”

Y/N looks at him in surprise, intrigued to hear what he has to say this time. “Y/N. Im know. im such a dumbass, clueless, and careless bloke who didn’t stop to think about your feelings and the things you wanted from me. I should have helped around more, I should asked how you were , and I definitely should have pushed my luggage to the side of the wall like you asked me too many times.” He says chuckling nervously. “And I know I fucked up, but Im really going to to try to make it an effort to listen more, and help you as much as I can. And Im so sorry for being so distant, I just I had a lot on my mind and the fact that I have to leave you, in two weeks when this has been the longest we’ve spent time together, it made me more sad.” Y/N looks at him with a sympathetic smile, almost ready to accept his apology. “So look, I know you’re probably still mad and everything, but Im really hoping this makes it up for you because I really do love you. Every single thing about you and theres only two more weeks before I leave and I want to spend every day, hour, minute, and second with you.”

There’s silence in the air as Tom looks into her eyes, trying to find some answer. “Every day, hour, minute, and second?” She questions him smiling. Tom’s face lights up with the brightest smile hes ever out on. He drops the flowers and hugs her even more tightly than he did with his mother, spinning her around. Nothing sounded better than hearing her laugh, it’s been far too long. He cups her face, kissing her passionately only to pull away and move the stray hairs from her face. Taking in every single detail of her face. “Yes. Ever day, hour, minute, and second..so lets not waste anymore time.” He grabs her hand as he rushed her to their room.

“Wait, wait, wait!” She yells with laughter. Tom sulks and groans, “Aw, what now?”

“You didnt even ask if I forgave you, yet?”

“Well...” Tom says pretending to think “Do you forgive me?”

Y/N looks at him, leaving a chaste kiss on his lips. “Of course I do.”

“Good. Now let’s go. Got to show you how much I appreciate and love you.” Tom smiles as he pulls her away.

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @parkerspillow @joyleenl @kihyunwifes

[etoileholland]

Hold me close, I’ve never been so far from home.

Pairing: Tom and female reader

Warnings: a sprinkling of bad words, anger

Word count: 3.5k 

Quarantining with the boys had been quite fun. You and the boys had watched a lot of movies together, played a lot of games, and have spent a lot of time watching the boys tend to the chickens. There was only one small dilemma, you were stuck in the UK with them.

You were from overseas, and about two months before lockdown you decided to take a vacation to London. There, you met Tom and had instantly fallen in love with each other. He figured that he could at least spend some time with you before he had to fly to America to film. Besides, he knew you wouldn’t be spending much time in the UK, so he let you live in his home temporarily until you decided to fly back home.

Temporarily was the key word here. No one could have anticipated what was soon to come.

When it was announced in March that the UK would be under heavy lockdown, with no flights being allowed to enter your home country, you realised you were absolutely stuck here. With nowhere to go, and with limited money, Tom allowed you to quarantine with him and the guys.

For the first month, things seemed to be pretty good. Everyone was in high hopes and was positive that things would blow over in a few weeks, so things were good. Great, even.

That is, until you started to inevitably get on each other’s nerves. It was the little things that pissed you off about the boys. Like the way Sam doesn’t shut the tap off properly so it always drips, or when Harrison doesn’t bother to put the toilet seat back down. The boys were annoyed with how you never liked to load the dishwasher, or how you played your music around the house just a little too loud.

You were growing more annoyed with the boys every day, and they were equally growing annoyed with you. It would only be a matter of time until somebody snaps.

Today was that fateful day.

It was a nice morning when you woke up, with Tom sleeping right next to you in your shared bed. His arm was outstretched so that it was holding onto your waist, and your face was buried in the crook of his neck. The sun was shining bright as it was peeking through the blinds, and you could hear a bird chirping outside. You moved Tom’s arm so that you could get up, but it caused him to wake up slightly and wrap his arm around you tighter.

“mmm, five more minutes babe, I don’t want to get up.” He said sleepily, and in a hushed tone.

“Angel, I want to get up now. I need some coffee.” You said as you unwrapped yourself from him, and got up.

Tom made grabby hands at you like a child, while trying to persuade you to stay in bed.

“Babyyyy, cuddle with me right now.” He pouted, but you only shook your head.

“Sorry love, I’ll see you downstairs.” You said as you walked out of the bedroom and made your way downstairs for breakfast.

Harrison had made everyone pancakes, something that he did frequently. Pancakes always made your stomach hurt so you never ate them, and today would be no different. You grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and grabbed a box of cereal from the counter.

Harrison, who was sat at the table, sighed as he watched you make something else to eat for yourself.

“You know, why don’t you ever eat any of my pancakes?” He asked, while taking a bite of his pancake.

“I’ve told you before, they make my stomach hurt. And also, I don’t think that they should crunch the way they do. I didn’t know egg shells were your secret ingredient.” You joked, but Harrison didn’t take it that way.

“Well then I’d like to see you make something better then.” He huffed, grabbing his breakfast and leaving to eat in the living room.

“Damn, what a jerk.” You muttered under your breath as you were preparing your coffee.

“You know, we’re getting tired of your shit remarks.” The voice came from the other end of the room, and you looked up to see Harry leaning against the wall. He had his arms crossed and was glaring at you. He paused a minute before continuing to speak. “At least Harrison is actually doing something for once, unlike you. You literally do nothing and complain the most.” He remarked.

You sighed loudly and set down your cup of coffee on the counter. “Geez, I wonder what crawled up all of your asses this morning. I was only joking with Harrison. It’s not my fault he took it the wrong way.” You said while standing by the kitchen island, taking bites of your cereal.

Harry was furious with you, and everything you did was starting to grow on his nerves. How you always left dirty cups in the sink, how you never wanted to help with the chickens, or how you didn’t even want to help clean the house. Since you were living here, he figured that you would make yourself useful, but instead he, along with everyone except Tom, saw you as a hindrance.

“You know, we’ve all had it with you. No one even wants you around anymore. Hell, we wish you could just fly back home so that we wouldn’t have to live with you any longer.” He stated as he left the room after hitting you with that.

You stood there flabbergasted, allowing the words that Harry said to you to hang in the air.

You admit, you haven’t been the best house guest, but you were upset that you were stuck in a foreign country, without any of your family or friends. You were worried about their safety and hoped to god that they were okay, and you weren’t sure how long you would go without seeing them. It could be months, even a year until you would be cleared to go back home, and that was a harsh realization.

Being this depressed, you haven’t wanted to get up and do any chores. It was a chore to even get out of bed every day, and it was becoming a chore to shower regularly. You listened to loud music to drown out the thoughts in your head, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t think about the scary thoughts that crossed your mind all. the. damn. time.

It probably never crossed their minds that you were becoming depressed, and you didn’t want to spill the beans now. The boys still didn’t know a lot about you, and you were intent on keeping a few things a secret from them. Tom didn’t even notice you were upset, and you didn’t want to tell him. He was being kind enough to let you stay here, so you didn’t want to throw it up in his face.

Nobody seemed to notice that you weren’t your usual self, but then again, they didn’t know your usual self. They didn’t know that your nickname was ‘little miss sunshine’ because you were always smiling, but recently, you haven’t been living up to that nickname.

You continued to stand there long after Harry had left, but you couldn’t react, you were far too numb to react. The only thought running through your mind was “well, what if I’m someone I don’t want around.”

You felt nauseous, as though you were about to have a panic attack. You grounded yourself by holding onto the counter as you took a deep breath in, exhaling while counting to eight. Your therapist taught you this technique, and it did work.

You emptied the cereal into the garbage, poured the coffee down the drain, and loaded your cup and bowl into the dishwasher. That’ll show them that you actually can do something, you thought. You quietly unlocked the front door and put your shoes on, and one of Tom’s jackets, and stepped outside quietly so that no one would notice that you were gone. Well actually, nobody would care that you were gone either, you thought to yourself.

When you got really stressed, you found solace in taking a walk. So you headed down the pavement and towards the corner of the block, and crossed the street.

Once you were a few blocks away, you realised you didn’t have your phone on you. You were too upset to think about grabbing it. Not wanting to turn back around, you just kept walking further and further away from the boys’ residence.

You presumed that thirty minutes had passed, and you looked up to realise that you were lost. The streets looked less and less familiar, and you had never seen any of these businesses before. You felt a pang in your chest and realised that you had definitely fucked up. Now you were lost and you had no way of contacting Tom to come get you, or had any idea which way you came from so you could retrace your steps.

It began to pour as you walked around some more, trying to think about which direction you came from. You looked up to see a red phone booth, and hoped to god that it actually worked. You went inside to shelter yourself from the rain, and after shaking the rain off of you, you picked up the phone, and to your surprise you heard the dial tone. You rummaged around in Tom’s pockets and found about three pounds worth of 10p coins, and you were so happy that he carried it around with him.

Okay, now you just have to remember his number, how hard can that be? You thought to yourself as you raked your brain, hoping to have it magically come to you. You knew the first three numbers, and but you couldn’t remember the rest. You searched Tom’s pockets to see if maybe it was on something, and sure enough, when he went to Tesco last month, he used his reward membership, and his number was printed clearly on the receipt. You did a little happy dance as you stuck 60p into the coin slot and dialed the number.

God I hope he answers, you thought as the phone rang and rang.

——

While you were trying to figure out Tom’s number, Tuwaine was the first to notice that you were gone. He saw that the door was unlocked, and he distinctly remembered locking it before he went to bed last night. He knew Tom was home because he saw him walk to the kitchen, and he was just playing with the guys, so he figured it had to have been you who left.

Tom noticed that he didn’t see you on his way to the kitchen, but he presumed you were with the guys. He would find you after breakfast, since you owed him some cuddles, he thought to himself. He didn’t seem to be worried, but he became worried when he saw Tuwaine rushing into the kitchen.

“Hey did your girlfriend go to the shops or something? She’s the only person not here and she left the front door unlocked.” Tuwaine said as Tom began to choke on his breakfast.

“She didn’t tell me she was leaving, and her phone was still on the nightstand just a few minutes ago.” He downed his breakfast tea and got up from his seat.

“Where could she have gone to? I know (y/n) only leaves without saying anything when she’s upset. This means something, or someone, prompted her to leave. What fucker said or did something to make her upset, hmm? Was it Harrison? Sam? Harry? You, even?” He inquired, his jaw was tight and he was visibly turning red.

“Relax mate, it wasn’t me. I just noticed that she was gone, that’s all.” Tuwaine said in a calm tone, in hopes of easing Tom’s fears and hoping to calm him down. “Maybe she just went for a short walk to clear her head, I wouldn’t worry too much.” He said, but Tom stormed past him and towards the living room.

“Alright you little shits, which one of you did or said something to make my girlfriend run off? Hmm?” He exclaimed as he ran into the living room where the boys were playing FIFA.

The boys didn’t say anything, but Harrison and Harry exchanged glances, which only caused Tom to become even more furious.

“I swear to god I will unplug the console and throw it out the goddamn window if you don’t answer me right now!” He screamed, slamming his fist down on the coffee table to try to get the boy’s attention.

“Fuck dude it was Harrison and I, okay? Don’t kill us, alright? She came into the kitchen in a shit mood and made a rude remark about how Harrison can’t cook worth shit, and then I said that I wish she didn’t live with us. I mean, come on! She doesn’t even contribute around here!”

Tom stood there fuming, ready to strangle his little brother.

“Why the fuck would you say something like that? That’s awful. She’s staying here because she can’t go back home due to the fucking plague, Harry, the plague!” He threw his hands up in the air dramatically, as he began to pace the room.

“She doesn’t have her phone on her, I have no idea where she is and you twats told her to leave! Fucking hell, where could she be?” He asked as he was now pacing around the room frantically.

“I don’t know, but I’m enjoying the quiet.” Harry said as he let out a small laugh.

“That’s it, you’re dead.” Tom said with a straight face as he began to approach Harry at the couch. Harry then jumped up and threw his hands up in the air to surrender, but Tom was still furious.

“Okay if you don’t kill me I’ll help you find (y/n) okay? I promise and I’ll apologize so much and I’ll become her personal servant for the whole month and just please don’t kill me.” He squeaked out the last part, backing up so he could get away from Tom and nearly falling backwards onto the coffee table.

Tuwaine and Sam held back Tom as he raised a fist in the air, trying to squirm out of their grasp so he could punch Harry in the face. He deserves it, he thought. You could be anywhere and that scared Tom more than ever. He started to assume the worst, but he shook his head as he just crumbled to the floor, crying. He was sobbing into his hands, as he feared that he may have lost you, forever.

You didn’t tell Tom that you were becoming depressed, but he noticed that you didn’t seem like yourself recently. You didn’t want to have early morning cuddles anymore, and you didn’t smile as much as you used to. He knew how hard it was on you to not be around your family at a difficult time like this. Yesterday he had overheard your conversation with your mom over the phone saying how much you missed them, and it hurt him inside that he can’t really help. So he tried to cheer you up in many different ways. He would often send Harrison to the shops to get your favourite ice cream, and would offer to cuddle with you and watch movies when he had a chance. He was trying to be there for you, but his imbecile brothers ruined it.

The guys looked down on Tom, crouching down to hold him as he was sobbing and letting out small hiccups. Harrison and Harry looked at each other, knowing that they snapped at you for no good reason. Yes, they were annoyed with you, but they definitely overstepped when they wished you weren’t around anymore. Guilt built up in their stomachs as they saw how upset Tom was over you. They may find you a tad aggravating, but they knew that Tom didn’t see you that way.

“We’re sorry, we shouldn’t have said those things to her. We were just annoyed, but we also forgot how hard it must be on her right now.” Harry said as he continued to hold Tom. “We’ll help you look for her, yeah? Let’s hop in the car and drive around, hoping that we’ll see her walking. Besides, since everything’s closed, she can’t be at too many places. We can eliminate the mall, the parks and most of the shops and restaurants. It’ll be easy to find her.” He said, trying to get Tom to calm down a bit.

“Okay, let’s do that.” Tom snuffed as he was helped up by the boys.

As they were throwing on their jackets, Tom’s phone began to rang. It was an unknown number, but the location said ‘London’. He was hoping, praying that it was you, so he answered it.

“Hello, who is it?” He asked, holding his breath as he heard a sob on the other end of the line. “Hello?” Tom said again, as the voice on the other end said “Tom, it’s me. I’m in a red telephone booth. I didn’t even know they had those anymore and I’m lost and I need you to come get me now please.” You rambled into the phone, as Tom let out a sign of relief.

“Okay love, stay on the phone with me, alright? Tell me what you see around you and I’ll come find you. You need to be specific, can you read any of the street signs from where you are?” He asked, but you couldn’t. You weren’t wearing your glasses so you could barely read the small text inside the telephone booth.

“No I can’t read it, it’s too far away. But I’m right in front of a store called “that vintage shop”. You stated, hoping that Tom had heard of it before.

“Hold on, I’m telling Harrison to put it into maps so we can get you, okay?”

Harrison quickly put it into his phone and showed Tom where you were, and you were four miles away from the house.

“Love you really did take a long walk, you’re very far away but I promise I’m coming to get you, alright? So stay on the line with me and whatever you do, do not leave the phone booth. Can you promise me that?” He pleaded into the phone, and you said “I promise. I’m sorry, Tommy.”

“It’s okay darling, I’m just glad you’re alright. Please don’t ever do this again. If something, or someone-” he stopped to glare at the boys “is bothering you, you need to tell me first, angel.”

“Okay.” was all you could say, as you let out more sobs.

“Don’t cry love, I’ll be right there. It’ll only take us a few minutes to drive there.” He tried to reassure you, but you just began to cry even more.

The boys hopped into the car and went on their way to find you. Tom kept you on the line as he made you promise to never do that again, and told you over and over how much you meant to him.

You were so grateful for him, and you didn’t know what you would do without him. He’s been so loving, and you were massively in love with him. You didn’t tell him that, but it was hard not to fall in love with his sweet and caring personality.

He made you feel safe, even if you were standing in an old telephone booth in a foreign country. At that moment, you knew you had to keep him around forever.

You saw the car pull up to the curb, and Tom hurriedly rushed out of the car to get to you. You got out of the phone booth as Tom wrapped you in a tight embrace, slightly swaying as he continued to hold onto you.

You started crying and so did he, as he whispered in your ear saying “please don’t do that again, okay? I never want to let you go.” He paused for a minute and then said “I love you.” You quickly told him you loved him too as you began to kiss him in the pouring rain.

The boys watched from inside the car, and after a while you and Tom made your way back to the car. He opened the door for you to get in, and immediately the boys were talking over each other and apologizing profusely.

“Listen I’m so sorry, I promise we’ll never say anything like that again. We’re proud of you for at least putting your cup in the dishwasher before you ran off.” Harry said as tears were brimming in his eyes.

“What he said. We hope you can forgive us.” Harrison added, as you nodded your head yes.

“I can forgive you. Now please, let’s go back to your house, I’m freezing.” You said as Tom took off the jacket he was wearing to give to you.

“No, let’s go back to our house.” Harrison said as he began to drive back home to your house.

——

A/N: hi, I definitely made myself cry while writing this. If you have any requests or want to be added to the tag list please let me know! 💛

Mes petits anges: @starkissedholland​ @scarletxwidow​ @fangirlwithasweettooth​

[litwitlady]

The Toolbox (1/2)

Read on AO3.

Angst Prompt #2: ‘You deserve better.’

Alex sits in the front seat of his car. He’s parked at the junkyard, engine still running. It’s early morning, the sun barely up. He darts his eyes up to his rearview mirror and frowns at the toolbox in his backseat. The toolbox is ordinary - gray metal, covered in various scratches and dents. A completely unremarkable object in every way except one - it belongs to Michael Guerin.

Which is also unremarkable unless you are Alex Manes and Michael Guerin is your ex.

He returns his stare to the airstream’s door. The Chevy is parked to the left of him, so it’s a safe bet Michael is home. Another fifteen minutes pass and he still hasn’t moved. He glances over his shoulder at the toolbox. A stray sunbeam bounces off the corner, the glare momentarily blinding - like the damn thing is mocking him.

Sighing, Alex opens his door and slides down to the ground. He pulls the toolbox from his backseat and walks to the trailer’s door. The only sound is the generator running and a couple of enthusiastic songbirds. He knocks and takes a step back. ‘It’s me, Guerin.’

A few minutes go by before Alex hears Michael shuffling around inside. When he finally opens the door, Michael is only half-dressed. Low slung sweatpants and no shirt. Alex is also pretty certain there’s nothing underneath said sweatpants. No matter how many times he’s seen Michael naked, the sight of his bare skin never fails to leave him breathless.

‘Alex? Did I know that you’d be here at ass o’clock in the morning?’

No. He didn’t know. They haven’t talked in ages. Nothing more than the occasional head nod or wave when they see each other around town. And Alex hadn’t called or texted about this meeting because he hadn’t known this would be the morning he found the courage until his alarm had gone off earlier than expected.

‘You didn’t. Sorry. I just wanted to stop by and return your toolbox.’ Michael doesn’t say anything, just blinks at him. Sleep still crusted in the corners of his eyes. ‘I’m...uh...cleaning out my garage. So.’ He holds up the toolbox by it’s rusted handle, but Michael doesn’t move to take it.

Finally, Michael yawns and leans against the door frame. ‘Did I ask for it back?’

The question is unexpected and catches Alex off guard. Which he hates. ‘No. But when you borrow something, it’s polite to give it back.’ Tired of holding the heavy toolbox, Alex sets it down at his feet. Michael just watches him and it makes Alex uneasy. ‘I guess I should go. Thanks for letting me borrow it. And sorry to bother you.’

Walking away, he slows his pace and listens for Michael to call out his name, asking him to stay. For a cup of coffee or just to talk. The reason doesn’t matter. The reason will never matter so long as he asks. But all Alex hears is the sound of the door slamming shut.

Alex pauses. Fights with himself to keep from looking back over his shoulder. Or worse, turning around and begging Michael to be let inside. It was hard being away from him all those years, but it’s much lonelier now being so close. Clenching his fists, he climbs back into his Explorer and pounds his fist against the steering wheel, accidentally sounding the horn. Startled, he looks up at the airstream for any signs Michael noticed. Nothing until his phone vibrates in his pocket.

Michael: You alright?

Alex: Fine. Sorry.

Michael: Stop saying you’re sorry.

And that’s it. Alex doesn’t know how to respond and Michael doesn’t offer anything further. So he fastens his seatbelt and cranks his engine. With one last look at the toolbox sitting lonely on Michael’s stoop, Alex puts his car in reverse and leaves the junkyard.

The ride home is uneventful. He spends a lot of time cursing himself for being so needy and desperate. Forrest had moved to New York only two weeks ago and already he’s crawling back to the boy who clearly no longer loves him. Alex hates nothing more than being a constant disappointment to himself.

He spends the rest of the day distracting himself with chores. Mainly, decluttering his garage so that he can begin the long, arduous process of converting the small space into a music studio. The idea has been banging around his head since before he’d even closed on the house. Imagining himself recording his first album in a place that he’d built with his own two hands. With maybe Michael’s two hands helping - another failed dream.

At noon, Alex stops for lunch. Making a couple of sandwiches and settling into his favorite patio chair. It’s not long before he hears the familiar sounds of Michael’s truck growing closer. He shifts in his seat and looks on as Michael parks in the gravel next to his cluttered driveway. Heart rate rising at the first glimpse of his black cowboy hat.

He frowns when he sees what Michael’s carrying.

It’s the toolbox. The one Alex had returned only a few hours ago. The guitar incident quickly replays through his head. Dread pooling in his gut.

Michael strolls through Alex’s patio gate like he owns the place. Tossing his hat on the table in front of Alex and dropping the toolbox at his feet. ‘You forgot this when you left.’

Alex’s lips part while he tries to find something to say. Confusion rendering him mute. The best he comes up with is a raised eyebrow.

Michael sighs. ‘It’s not mine. It’s yours.’ Said like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He shakes his head. ‘I remember you giving me the toolbox, Michael. Last year when I asked for a pipe wrench.’

‘Right. And I could have just given you the pipe wrench. But instead, I walked around the junkyard putting this together for you - gathering the tools I didn’t need or had duplicates of. So that you’d be taken care of next time.’ Michael collapses into the chair next to Alex, exasperated.

Alex makes an annoyed noise deep in his throat. ‘How in the holy hell was I supposed to know that?’

Michael throws his hands up. ‘Because we were in a good place!’ He sighs and presses his knuckles into eyes.

‘Guerin, the only thing you said to me when I picked up that toolbox was let me know if you need help with anything.’ He kicks Michael’s boot softly. ‘Not a single indication you were giving me a gift.’

‘Open your garage door.’ Michael jumps to his feet, startling Alex. He bounces on his heels and tugs Alex out of his chair. ‘Now, Alex. Open the door.’

Growing more annoyed by the minute, Alex does as told despite wanting to strangle Michael. He heads into the house and through the hallway to his garage. Stepping inside and pushing the button to raise the door. Slowly, the chains grind through the opener and sunshine eats away at the shadows. Michael being revealed inch by gradual inch.

Michael looks around at the empty space. ‘Where’d everything go?’

‘The driveway mostly. I’m converting the garage into a studio.’ Alex waves to the piles outside. ‘If you want anything, feel free. It’s mostly junk.’

‘Huh.’ Another indecipherable response. But he marches to a spot in the back corner and points at his feet. ‘The toolbox lives here. There’s even a rusted outline because it’s sat here so long.’ Michael drops the toolbox to the ground with a bang. ‘Which means water is probably seeping up through the concrete foundation. You should definitely have that checked out before starting construction.’

He moves to leave, not sparing Alex another glance until he’s back in the sunlight. Hands on his hips, he spins around and narrows his eyes. ‘Why would you return the toolbox if you were about to start renovating?’

Alex grits his teeth so hard it hurts. ‘Because it’s not mine! Because I’m trying to clean out the garage.’ He closes his eyes and gives up. ‘And my heart.’ He blinks his eyes back open and glares at Michael.

‘Is he here?’

‘Forrest?’

‘Yes, Alex. Forrest. I need to know if he’s about to charge out here to kick my ass for yelling at his boyfriend.’ Michael’s eyes shift to the door behind Alex. ‘Well, he can try anyway.’

‘He’s not here.’ He doesn't offer any further information despite the pounding of his heart.

‘Good.’ In just a few strides, Michael is within arm’s length. ‘You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to show up at my door unannounced. You don’t get to return toolboxes. And goddammit, Alex, you don’t get to return me. That’s not how this fucking works.’

Anger flames in Alex’s chest. Before he can stop himself, he storms over to the toolbox, picks it up with a huff, and walks it to his ever growing trash pile, dumping it unceremoniously on top. ‘It’s you who doesn’t get to talk to me like that. Now go home, Michael.’

It’s frustrating. How their story never seems to change. No matter how much both of them want nothing more than to crawl into each other’s arms.

On the way to his truck, Michael stops and gives Alex one last look. ‘You’re right, Alex. You deserve better. You always have. Glad you found it.’ And then he climbs into his truck and disappears.

Fuming, Alex steps back onto his patio determined to finish his lunch. But everything goes to shit as soon as he spots Michael’s black hat abandoned on the table. He groans and mutters a weak fuck before heading inside in a feeble attempt to ignore everything.

The toolbox and now the hat. And a universe that just won’t let them quit each other.

[steakook]

not a house but a home

Pairing: boyfriend!Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Domestic Fluff, Angst, very very light Smut if you squint

A/N: feeling all kinds of soft for the babie after his “Never Not” cover. This was supposed to be a Drabble but, as always, jungkook takes my heart further ༼;´༎ຶ.̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̸̨̨̨̨̨̨̨̨̨̨̨̨.̸̸̨̨۝ ༎ຶ༽ . Enjoy!

///

“Babe?”

I let out an unintelligible response. My toothbrush is still buzzing in my mouth, for God’s sake. Jungkook takes it as a sign to continue.

“Can you please please PLEASE clean your side of the bathroom?” He says pleadingly with puppy dog eyes but also a hint of seriousness. He means business today.. of all days, Monday.

“SDFGHHH!!! DFYJKGGJK” I let out.

“I know it’s morning and I know you’re grumpy but PLEASE I can’t keep looking at this mess.”

I spit out into my sink. As I’m doing so I look at the cocktail of toiletries that litters my side of the vanity. 5 different Bobbi brown lip tints strewn about. Several makeup brushes and palettes clutter the white marble. Multiple face washes, moisturizes, and various other skincare products I’ve been sold by the deceptive Sephora employees, 83% of which I don’t use. Hair. Hair everywhere. I can’t help it, with hair like this I can’t just empty my comb every single day.

“I have no idea what you’re referring to.” I say to my beautiful and unfortunately meticulous boyfriend with a smirk.

He heaved a loaded sigh.

“Baaaaaabe.”

Here we go.

“I can’t look at this every morning!! How can you have your side so messy and still be able to operate throughout the day clearly?! Being organized brings peace to one’s life.”

Oh God I don’t remember putting something up his ass last night and leaving it there. I giggle in my head. I need to save that joke for later.

“You know, if I knew you’d be this messy, I would’ve just stayed at the dorms. Living with you is basically as bad as living with them.” Jungkook says, no trace of playfulness in his voice.

“Oh really? The same? Y’all giving each other cuddles?? Y’all sucking each other’s dicks?! Hmm??”

Ok in all honesty i really shouldn’t start a fight this early in the morning let alone week. But he knows how grumpy I am in the mornings. Not only do I have to wake up and ungodly hour (7am is ungodly for some of us, okay?), but I naturally hate being forced out of my comfy bed cuddling with my exorbitantly organized but very hot boyfriend.

I look at him. He has an incredulous look in his eyes. We’ve had this fight multiple times since moving in with each other 6 months ago. To be quite frank, there have been more growing pains than happy moments. I started realizing my organized chaos choice of living deeply contrasted jungkook’s need to put everything in its place and if it can be alphabetized, all the better. I’m annoyed and so is he.

“Are you serious? Can’t you do this ONE thing for me? One thing that will significantly improve not only mine but your life as well? I swear it’s amazing how much you accomplish at work when you practically do nothing at home.”

Oh. Wasn’t expecting that.

He must see the change in playfulness in my face, immediately regretting his words.

“Babe I’m sor-“

“Don’t worry about it. I have to finish getting ready. I have a big presentation to present to the Japanese stockholders this afternoon regarding our globalization plan.... I mean, hopefully i don’t fuck it up seeing as how I live my life in such a clusterfuck it’s a wonder how i get things done there. Right, jungkook?”

I don’t wait for him to answer as i leave our shared bathroom but he just continues to stand there. I hit him low too.

Living together has put quite a strain on our relationship because we haven’t really found that symbiotic rhythm yet. To be honest, I kick ass and take names in the board room but I’ve never found myself to be very... well... domestic at home. Jungkook, on the other hand, not only is good at every chore. He is amazing. he has a neurotic obsession with making sure laundry never overflows in the hamper, dishes are always clean and the sink is empty, and making sure dust never accumulates. I swear to God. For someone who is an international kpop sensation, how does he have time to keep our house looking so great everyday.

This is a quality of his I worship. His never ending never endingness. There is always work to be done, this can always be cleaner, that can always be done today not tomorrow. Me, on the other hand, I wear two hats. There is the Business Y/N who has an MBA and literally climbed her way up the corporate ladder. Queen of making deals and making grown men cry around the world. I have a 401k. I know. Amazing. But outside of that, I’ve always been Party, easy going Y/N. My job already requires me to be ruthless yet charismatic AND strategic everyday, I don’t need to bring that elsewhere.

If I hadn’t had the second hat, I don’t think I would have ever met jungkook. We met at a random awards show I was attending for fun with some friends, my close friend from B-school scoring us tickets within the artists’ seating. We’ve been inseparable ever since.

I’ve always envied kook for his ability to be at the forefront in everything in his life. From his career, to his multitude of sports and hobbies, to taking care of his homestead. He’s more serious and cares more about little things than I think he purposely lets on. We are yin and yang. opposites attract, yes, but can they actually coexist?

It’s been a long day when i get home at 10pm. Funny enough, both our schedules are so hectic but perfectly align with his late dance practices and my evening calls to Belgium.

Our golden doodle puppy greets me.

“Matcha!!!!!! How are you my love???” She showers me with kisses. Oh how lovely this is after a particularly shitty day.

I turn into the tv room and see him laying there icing his knee. He looks gorgeous. Even now, barefaced and in a hoodie that’s three times his should-be size and basketball shorts, watching the 6th season of nartuto. (For the 7th time).

We look at each other waiting for one to break. It’s always been like this. What more could you expect from two highly-competitive and maybe a bit self-righteous individuals? Maybe we are more similar than we are different.

“Hi baby.” I cave.

The hard look on his face softens. He puts his guard down, relieved we won’t have to fight. I go over and lay down next to him making sure i don’t hit his knee. He wraps me in his large arms and I feel a glow of comfort. He smells like fresh laundry. (Which is probably accurate since he made sure to do a load today before heading to the studio.. someone say ANAL RETENTIVE with me!!)

“You smell so nice.” He is soft. No, he is softness personified. As much of a tough, stubborn Virgo as he is, he is a ball of pudding when it comes to after work moments like these. He tucks his nose into my hair. And kisses me absentmindedly.

“About this morning-“ He starts. But I cut him off.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I know it’s been hard living together with our opposing..... lifestyle choices” he snorts. “But I know you’ve had to bend to me more than I’ve had to bend to you. And for that I’m sincerely sorry. I haven’t made nearly as much of an effort to make this work. But the change has been hard for me. I’ve never had to live with a boy let alone share a bathroom with one. And not only that, I had always imagined I WOULD BE THE CLEANER ONE.” He chuckles quietly and plants some chaste kisses on my temples.

“Babe, no. I know. You’re still adjusting. But I need to apologize too. I didn’t mean what I said earlier but i just get so frustrated sometimes! You’re hard headed and I am too. But still I shouldn’t have said those things I’ve said about you not being great at your job. Your ferocity is one of the reasons i love you. It’s also extremely hot.”

I smile and look up into those big brown doe eyes and I melt. How could he look so good after practicing the whole day? And how could he be so patient and loving to someone like me? Messy and unorganized.

“I love you. So much. I don’t deserve to be with someone like you. You’re amazing at everything it’s so damn frustrating sometimes. Not only do you devote your life to an occupation that require so much of you, you also still make time to take care of us, this place. I’m sorry I don’t make things easy.”

“Y/N. You may be frustratingly messy. I don’t understand how one person can produce so much goddamn hair at once to be quite honest. You shed more than Matcha. But being with you is easy. You make life easy. You give me easiness when so so so many other things in this life are so hard and time consuming. So many people want so much from me and I want to be the person they need. But when I’m with you, it doesn’t feel like work. It’s easiness in its purest sense. Even though you don’t clean up your shit.”

I giggle.

“But even then, i wouldn’t trade this for anything else.”

I kiss him chastely and he holds my chin up for better access. We kiss like this for a while before he swipes his tongue against my lip asking for permission. Though he doesn’t need any. The kiss escalated into something deeper. Hotter. He licks into my mouth and I feel heat stir in my stomach. Fuck.

He uses his arms already wrapped around me to place me on top of him. Ice bag long forgotten on the floor. We make out passionately as if our lives depend on it. I put my hand to the back of his neck and run through his gorgeous thick chocolate hair. So lush.

I find myself straddling his waist and grind my core against his half hard-on. He moans.

“Fuck..”

I grind harder with intention and fill fires of lust consume me. Holy fucking shit. It always feels like the first time. He puts his hands on my thighs gripping them and forcing me to go harder onto his dick.

After a few minutes he sits up, lips still connected and lifts me up. I smirk into the kiss already knowing where this is going. He carries me along the marbled tile hallway to our bedroom and throws me on the bed. He strips himself of his hoodie.

“You know... you’ve been quite disobedient to me, Y/N. I think it’s time to put you in your place.” He says sternly. God, he has never looked more hot.

///

A/N: thank you so much for reading!!!! Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first fic so please let me know if you liked it! 

Lots of love.

-M

[arabellaflynn]

For anyone who didn't catch it on other social media, I have finally moved out of the "temporary" apartment I was stuck in for 7 months, thanks to a lot of emotional and logistical support from friends, and a generous amount of financial support from the folks who gave to my GoFundMe. I am endlessly grateful to all of you, and if I weren't so goddamn tired right now I'd be more eloquent in saying so.

I've spent the past few weeks of unpacking and working out the bus routes around my new place trying to figure out how to explain what was so terrible about the last one. Most attempts devolved into page upon page of rage, which is not really what I want to be doing here. On the other hand, I also don't want to downplay how bad it was. 

Spoiler: The temp apartment was Very Very Bad.

The tl;dr is that I was offered someone's spare room on the condition that I help out a little extra with household chores and caring for their rats, because the pet owning roommate had recently had back surgery and was still mobility-impaired. What actually happened is that as soon as they realized I had any basic life skills whatsofuckingever, I was cornered into becoming the 24/7 on-call House Adult. I would have gone on strike, but the other two people in the apartment were so terrible at coping with absolutely any aspect of being alive that if I had, one or both of them would probably be dead now.

That is not hyperbole. I sat back at one point and realized that I had talked to 911 dispatch five times in the preceding four months. None of those calls were for me. To be clear, I ain't mad about other people having medical problems. All five of those calls were appropriate and necessary uses of emergency services. I just resent the hell out of being the default option for handling all of it, even though none of the medical emergency problems were mine, and there were other people in the house. Literally, Short Roommate had a catastrophic asthma attack one night, and when she was wheezing too hard to talk she passed the phone to Tall Roommate -- who immediately ran to the other end of the apartment, banged on my door, and handed the phone to me. It got to the point where I just told the operator what was up, went downstairs to unlock the door for EMS, stood in the corner answering the occasional question until they hauled someone off to the hospital, and then went right back to bed, because none of this was my problem. And that's just the 911 calls, not even counting the number of times I had to talk her down out of a dissociative episode, or any of the other shit I was not warned about and did not volunteer to do. They wore me down until my only response to "a fellow human can't breathe" is "fuck's sake, why am I even involved here".

They both needed a lot more, and a lot more professional, help than they could possibly have gotten out of a random civilian roommate. They both fought tooth and nail against actually getting any of it. Every time Short Roommate was dragged to the hospital, her discharge papers included a big fat packet full of social services, resources, and business cards for actual physical people to phone. I know this because whenever I cleaned the apartment, I found them on the fucking floor, whereupon I placed them on her fucking keyboard, and told her point-blank to call these people. As far as I know, she never did.

I am neither qualified nor equipped to be a live-in caregiver for anybody. There is a fucking reason I have never wanted children. I keep critters because if you give them food, water, toys, and boxes to sleep in, you can leave them to entertain themselves for hours while you work or sleep, and no one will arrest you.

There was a bunch of other stuff. Tall Roommate rarely if ever cleaned anything, including herself, unless directly ordered to do so and given a detailed list of instructions of what you meant by "clean". I only ever got her to wash her own damn dishes once, and I did it by messaging her from the other room 'I just found a mouse in the sink eating snacks off your dirty plates GO DO YOUR DISHES'. She had a laundry list of problems, but the relevant one here is that she was high-support-needs autistic with no support and zero inclination to find any. 

[Did I mention the mice? We had mice. All over. The rats murdered two of them when they got into the cages, looking for the free-feed bowl.]

Short Roommate clearly loved her rats but didn't actually do any of the rat care beyond petting and playing. One of them was tremendously sick at one point and needed meds q6h. She was supposed to be helping with that and didn't, which meant that I went several weeks on a maximum of six hours of uninterrupted sleep a night. I tore the fuck into her for that one, pointing out in exactly so many words that some of these meds were painkillers and if the rat didn't get them on time HE SUFFERS. Not doing any of the grunt work, Short Roommate evidently thought rats were so easy she should just keep getting more of them! She rescued two, one of whom was preggo, kept several of the babies, and started talking about waiting for one of the girls to grow up so she could breed him with one of her younger boys. 

Gentle Reader, I promise you the only reason I did not strangle her in her sleep that very night was that I knew, deep in my heart, that I could not move the body down two flights of stairs by myself, and if I left it up to Tall Roommate, the corpse would still be in the apartment today.

If I were inclined to any sympathy, it would have died when Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend and New Boyfriend's Mother. She initially took all the rats with her, which made them officially not my problem anymore, but I woke up one morning to a message that said something like "[New Boyfriend's Mother] says that if I show up to our new place with the rats she's not going to let me in, [Tall Roommate] is coming back with all the rats and everything they own". I found out later that this was because their new place was in section 8 housing, where you are not allowed to have pets that aren't service or support animals. Which Short Roommate had known the entire time, and just... made no plans for. At all. Unless "ignore everything until bitchslapped by reality, then panic and make unreasonable demands of other people" counts, I guess.

Eight rats. She dumped eight rats on me. Eight. I wound up taking care of them all without help; Tall Roommate was incapable of keeping anything in her habitat clean, including herself, and I wasn't willing to let her neglect animals. I was actually down to one rat of my own, having lost my two venerable old men, and was looking for a new friend or two for Tseng. Which I had to stop doing, because nine fucking rats is a lot of rats, and I couldn't in good conscience bring Rats nos. 10 & 11 into this shitshow. Naturally, none of the rats got along; two pairs of boys had to be kept apart, and both of them tried to pick fights with poor Tseng, and four of them were girls that had to be kept away from all of the boys for obvious reasons. It was exhausting and a catastrophe.

Once I had the rats she apparently made no further effort to re-home them, although she did keep telling Tall Roommate to come knock on my door and take pictures of them. (I put a stop to this. Tall Roommate did it because Short Roommate had broken up with her to shack up with New Boyfriend, and Tall Roommate had literally no way to cope with this other than try desperately to get her back.) I bugged her to do something about this until, predictably, I had to contact the local rat rescue people to find fosters less than a week before my moving crew was scheduled. When I told her, she replied "oh, I was just about to submit that". Sure you were. And while you're here, I have this nice bridge to sell you.

[The four girls and two youngest boys went to Mainely Rat Rescue. It looks like the boys have already found a home, but the girls are up for adoption. I kept the two old men, who both have special care needs; Garion has breathing problems that involve his own asthma inhaler and a steady diet of NSAIDs, and Errand has attitude problems that involve picking fights with any rat who isn't Garion. They're both just shy of three(!) and unlikely to find homes through a foster program, plus I'm already their third caretaker, so I couldn't send them off with a stranger. They are currently sulking because I wouldn't supplement their dinner with all of my dinner -- which is to say, they're fine.]

The point is, my brain just about died off. The only time in that apartment that I didn't spend cleaning up after three grown adults, two of whom weren't even me, were the weeks after Short Roommate moved out to shack up with New Boyfriend, which she had broken up with Tall Roommate to do, and Tall Roommate took it so badly she ended up inpatient before she ate a bottle of Tylenol. (I called 911 when I overheard her plans. It was about 50% "a fellow human is in need of help" and 50% "argh jesus fuck THIS IS NOT MY JOB please go talk to someone who is actually paid to deal with this".) I am slowly clawing my way back to the surface, so if you'll just bear with me, I'll be back on Twitch this Sunday 3-7 Eastern, and type out more things that have been on hold while I tried to retain at least some of my marbles.

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[klarolinedrabbles]

What are some of the tvd to fandoms greatest hits so to speak... I was only in it for a short time and then jumped out because I couldn't stand to

Oh, well allow me to be your guide. This will be under a read more because I already know, I’m gonna write a whole essay. Shout out to my ride or die @hellsbellschime.

I don’t think any overtly crazy happened during the good!TVD years. No wait, I’m lying.

The year the spin-off got announced, I believe it was tvguide, that posted an article with like info tidbits for currently airing shows. And one of them, was that Hayley was pregnant with Klaus’ kid. I remember this shit so clearly, man. Everyone was so confused. And then they were like SURPRISE, APRIL FOOLS. Because it was in fact April 1st. So ha-ha we all had a laugh, great. Fastforward to what, late April? Episode 4x20 airs, and it’s exactly what happened???

That whole day btw, the day the backdoor pilot for TO aired was just insanity. I’ll say that about a lot of days in this answer, but that day was really just something else. Like we were delirious, that’s the only way I can explain what happened on here. It was a nightmare but also one of the funniest night’s I’ve ever spent on here. I gotta go back for old time’s sake and reblog some of the shit from that night because we all snapped. And not in the good way. 

The TVD 100th. Now, we knew Joseph was coming back for that episode so they hype was real. Because up until that point, we’d gotten a huge load of nothing in regards to Klaroline. They released a trailer, a short one, that’s still in my favorites folder on youtube to this day. I rewatch it all the time because it’s iconic. And there was literally .002 seconds of Klaroline. It’s Caroline standing and then Klaus says “hello, caroline” and everyone lost their shit so much when it dropped that ‘hello caroline’ trended ww on twitter. 

THE DAY THE NETWORK THAT AIRED TVD IN AUSTRALIA AIRED A PROMO WITH THE KLAROLINE KISS IN 5X11. ICONIC. I literally woke up, logged on at around 11 AM my time, and my dashboard was on fire. It was the BEST. We didn’t know wtf to do, it was amazing. 

Paleyfest. Ohhhh buddy, lemme tell ya. So TVD/TO got chosen to have the CW panel’s at Paleyfest that year. Everyone was on a bit of edge because TO to that point was what, almost done with S1 and Klaroline had been given the mega cold-shoulder despite being the very thing other than the Mikaelson’s that got used to lure people in? After the pregnancy plot from hell, everyone was ready to peace tf out, but we got halted because it was a ‘ohh of course it’s gonna continue’ then they tried to nip Klaroline in the bud with 5x11 and no one was having it. So Paleyfest was where we were gonna get some ANSWERS, DAMMIT. I live on the east coast and the festival was held in the west coast so I wasn’t awake when it was happening. I remember making a post about how ‘going to sleep, and hoping when I woke up the answers were good.’. So I went to sleep, woke up a few hours later like 2-3 AM my time, and checked my blog and the first message I had was ‘don’t wake up stephanie, everything is a mess, stay asleep where everything’s fine’ I—

The gist of that was, they basically set JoMo up to be the bad-cop in shutting down Klaroline. He gave this long answer that made absolutely zero sense. The girl who asked the question about Klaroline, who was like 13 at the time, got called a bully for even asking a question at an event she paid to be at. A mess. And JP was like NO CROSSOVERS, ORGANIC, BLAH BLAH. And Paul was sitting next to her going “why can’t the show’s just intersect”, he was right and he said it. 

I can’t remember if this was S1 or S2, but somebody tweeted something and Carina replied ‘when you’re found dead in your basement with klaroline written on you this is why’ or something like that, that was a ~fun~ night. And then like half an hour later she was like “I’m sorry, I’ll never tweet about Klaroline again just leave me alone” if you’ve ever seen this fandom refer to ourselves as basement dwellers, this night is why. 

NARDUCCI. Can’t forget him. Talk about a man who just didn’t get it. And I don’t mean Klaroline, he just didn’t get anything, nothing in his head has ever clicked, I’m convinced. He used to pick fights on twitter repeatedly. Admitted once that he missed his flight because he was on twitter…arguing with a fan. AND ONE DAY, he decided to just—snap. Went on this hours long tirade against the Klaroline fandom, essentially calling everyone stupid because no one was appreciating the ‘art’ of the show. So when I say it lasted hours, I mean that. Now, you’d think, that he would be done, right? WELL, apparently that wasn’t enough, so the next day, he continued. I remember because I was in this gc on whatsapp, and I remember Erika sending a message to the gc going “omg, Narducci vs KCers round 2″ when I tell you I screamed. The man went on a two-day rampage against this fandom and it was insane. 

S6/S2 of TVD/TO was not a fun time. I can genuinely say it was borderline a chore to come on here during that time. It wasn’t fun, every day someone was in argument with someone from production on twitter. Truly the worst year of the fandom, imo. So S7/S3 rolls around and that’s where shit went nuclear. 

Hillary and I, are minding our own damn business, when someone come’s to us with information regarding the new seasons. This was post-SDCC, so it’s like the lull of September, waiting for the seasons to start in October. And we get approached with information, talkin bout how Caroline’s gonna be pregnant with Alaric’s twins in S7. When I tell you we didn’t know wtf to do. And we had to like wait on confirmation about it but then we found out it was legit and we were pissed. Literally ask us if we wanted to be in the spoiler game, the answer is no tf we did not. And she and I basically spent two days complaining. LIKE UGHHHH WE DON’T WANNA DO THIS, BUT ALSO THIS IS DISGUSTING, WE CAN’T JUST LET THEM SPRING THIS ON EVERYONE, BUT AGHH WHY US. So we chose collectively, as a duo, because das my other half yo, to blab. 

That went over as best as anyone could hope for it to go. Now, flashforward yet again, this time to around late Novemeber/December. I had been sent word that something was going down. TVD/TO lost their Thursday slots and got bumped to Friday’s, so a plan was going on, and they made one. We’d heard that they were rearranging something mid-season because they were gonna make a crossover work, publicly we found out it would be Paul and JoMo that crossover back-to-back. THEN ONE NIGHT—I call it black friday bc  that day was a fucking mess—, a friend of mine was friends with an SCer, I wanna say, and she was hearing word that the crossover did have Klaus and Caroline interact via phone call, but that it was very definitively an ending. Because they spoke about Camille and Stefan, etc, etc. Like a closing of the book type thing. So okay, we were like devastated, everyone on twitter was losing their shit. Everyone was pissed, and @-ing the writers all these crazy, sad things, we were a wreck. Ask Hillary about this night because she, I remember, describes it as ‘logging on and reading what everyone else had and not understanding why tf everyone was mad about it’. It was the first and last time that our roles were reversed, and bless her for it. 

SO WE’RE SITTING THERE, it’s Saturday, and we kept getting more information and we were like…something isn’t right here. So we did a bit of digging, spoke to a few people and waited it out. LO AND BEHOLD, everything we’d heard about the phone call was false. There was a phone call but the CKers and SCers were so mad about what was actually said in it, that a few of em, ring leaders of the feeble minded, made up a version and passed it around their fandoms as legit till it eventually worked it’s way over to us. So we all jumped the gun on fake information, lmfskdnknsks. Rumor has it, you can still hear Hillary yelling ‘I told you so’ at me through our group chat. 

So all was well, I couldn’t tell everyone why not to panic, just that they didn’t need to. Until, this account popped up called tvdspoiler or something on twitter, also saying false information about the phone call. Sending everyone into a panic yet again. I remember this because I was at  kmart with my mom, and the kmart by my house was in a basement so I had no cell service. I was able to send like a couple of messages, and was basically like ‘tell everyone to chill, I’ll clear it up when I get home’ did that in like a couple of hours cause then I had to leave to the midnight showing of the force awakens with my friends. So that day was chaotic, but fun. It was the first time I reached 99+ messages on my inbox, lmao. 

So that all happened like a good while before we actually saw the episode. But cut to a few weeks later. I woke up at 1 AM my time to drink water, was on tumblr trying to go back to sleep. I checked my inbox and there was this bizarre message talking about ‘got some scoop’ and they were like ‘Finn dies in 3x17, Aurora gets put into some weird sleeping spell in 3x18, Camille and Davina die in 3x19, Lucien dies in 3x20′ and I quite literally laughed??? Literally who wouldn’t. Like who tf would ever believe TO had the balls to do all of that when they never killed anyone off. AND, WHO WOULD BELIEVE THAT SOMEONE WOULD JUST STOP BY, SHARE IT AND LEAVE. So I sent a screenshot to Hillary and was like ‘yo did you get this because wtf’. We often got duplicate messages. And we often got messages of people who were pissed about the two previous times we, from the klaroline fandom of all places, had legit info that wound up being true, that they were just waiting for us to fuck up. So we used to get messages of people pretending they were sharing info, and it was just antis trying to make us look stupid. 

SO, Hillary says ‘just answer it because it’s obviously fake’ top ten moments before disaster. I answer it and am like oh haha, and where did that info come from. And they came back like a minute later, saying ‘I have a source’ THEN THEY ELABORATED. They mentioned that Lucien drags Freya and Vincent to Mystic Falls to do this spell with some bullet and etc. So at that point we were like fUCK because that same day we’d found out was in 3x16, which ended with Lucien and this white-oak bullet, having kidnapped Freya. And that’s when we knew, that someone showed up in the middle of the night, spoiled the whole back-half of TO S3—and then left.

The back-half of S3 was so fun??? Every week the info just kept coming true. On the wikia everyone hated me, probably the most anti messages I ever had was during that time, honestly it was great, 10/10 would recommend. 

THEN, at some point in our blog history, Hillary had been getting quite a few messages about PT. And she had this fucking line in one of the messages about Phoebe’s pronunciation with her accent for the show, or lack thereof. And she said “weeches and woves will always have a place in my heart” SO THEM PHOEBE TWEETED IT. THAT EXACT LINE, and we were like was she...? So we shrugged off okay. A few days later, she tweeted “hellsbellschime enough, there’s plenty of other things to watch on tv, I hear mad men’s great.” And I—

THIS WAS ON SOME RANDOM ASS SUNDAY. Like I was lounging around, waiting for the new episode of game of thrones and then WHAM, chaos. AND AS IF THAT WASNT ENOUGH, Leah joined in too. Putting a target on my friends back...about her blog that no one was making them read. You can’t make that shit up. And Jenn actually replied to Phoebe’s tweet and got a reply back, and she was all “you’re right, I’m sorry” and then deleted the original tweet, which I still have a screenshot of btw. And then Leah showed up in Hillary’s inbox with this ridiculous three part ask about how she shouldn’t criticize women in the acting industry because of how hard it is for women in that industry which is true, but it doesn’t make you exempt from criticism??? So not sure where she meant to go with that one.

SO THERE WE HAVE IT, our fandom’s greatest hits. I’m sure I can elaborate and insert more, but I’ve been typing for a good 40 minutes. 

Told ya, I wrote a whole dissertation, lmaooo.

[squirrel-moose-winchester]

Winner

Title: Winner

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Platonic-ish)

Word Count: 1586

Square Filled: Beer

Summary: Playing cards with friends is one thing. Playing cards with ONLY Dean Winchester is a whole different thing, especially when one of his favorite card games happen to be strip poker. Mix that in with a little beer and nudity, and you have yourself one very entertaining night!

Warning: 18+ ONLY BLOG!

Written for: @spndeanbingo

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: This was inspired by @covered-byroses’ fic, Poker Night. It’s so good, and you should definitely give it a read! In fact, read all her stuff. It’s all amazing! For my fic, the theme is similar, a line is similar (prompt), but everything is still completely different. I’ve talked to her and asked for permission, also gave her the opportunity to check it out first to see if it was okay, and she gave me the pass! So I’m glad about that. Anyways, read mine then read hers, or vice versa. You won’t regret giving her fic a read! I PROMISE! Happy Reading!

It was that kind of night. Beer and a little poker.

There were empty beer bottles littered atop the war table and it had been hours since Sam had gone to bed, but you and Dean were too competitive to stop now. You were determined to win back your lot, and Dean was just having too much fun taking all your money and giving up all of his chores.

“Three aces,” you displayed your cards on the table, confident in your hand as you took a sip of your beer.

You noticed Dean’s lips tighten, knowing that was a tick of his when he knows he’s lost, but suddenly that twitch turned into the smallest of smirks and you knew you were done. Before he could even show you his cards, you were already groaning in defeat.

“Read it and weep it!” He sang, snagging your beer from in front of you and taking a sip. You and the Winchester’s were best friends, so sharing wasn’t uncommon. In fact, you almost shared everything other than your clothes, toothbrush, and Dean’s pie. When it came to pie, it was always off limits.  

“This is bullshit!” You whined, taking back your drink before falling back on your seat and sinking into it a little. “You’ve got to be cheating!” You pouted as you drank the rest of it.

“Sweetheart… I don’t cheat. I’m just that good,” he smirked. “Anyways… baby needs an oil change tomorrow,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re ruthless! First I have to clean the bathroom, dust the archives room, make dinner for a month, do your nasty laundry for a week, and now change Baby’s oil?” Dean couldn’t help but grin at your use of his precious car’s name. “Why couldn’t you come up with something like, a foot massage, or I get the couch on the next hunt? You know something not so laborious. Something simple! Why couldn’t I just buy you a pack of beer?”

“Fine, how about this,” Dean started, “if you can beat me in the next game, I will trade all of the chores in for that foot massage… but if I win, then we play another round however… we’re playing strip poker.” He winked, sending heat to surface all over you body. “Unless you’re too chicken?”

It was lame and immature to be provoked by something as childish as being called a chicken, but you were so adamant on getting your life back that you were willing to do anything. You’ve beaten Dean a handful of times, so it wasn’t impossible. You just hoped that God was on your side for once.

“Game on, Winchester!”

“Atta girl!” He cheered, rubbing his hands together before scooping up the cards and shuffling them several times. When he felt they were properly mixed, he let you cut the deck.

Dean grinned at you the whole time he dealt the cards. You returned his stare with a hard glare of determination. You were going to win this round. You had to win this round other wise, you’d have to do all those chores! And you knew that when it came to that damn Impala, Dean would be breathing down your neck, complaining and constantly telling you how to change the oil in his car, which was incredibly infuriating. You knew how to change oil! You knew how to fully service a car, yet he still insisted on going on and on how to do it. The last time, you threw a wrench at him!

As you rearranged your cards in your hands, you thanked the heavens for the possibility that they were on your side and that you could actually win this. “Full house!” You spread your cards on the table.

“Ooh, damn! Shit, all I got was a… four of a kind!” He cooed, doing a little awkward dance with his arms and hands.

“What?!” You gawked. “Ugh!”

“So… ready for some strip poker?” He teased, his stupid cocky grin plastered across his face.

“I need another beer. No I need two beers. Actually, I need to be shit-faced for this,” you mumbled, getting out of your seat and into the kitchen. You came back out with a full pack to share with your opponent.

The game, like most of all the previous games, was not turning out for you. At this point, you were feeling a slight buzz from the bitter drink. Dean was left in a white shirt and his jeans, while you were down to your crop top shirt and panties, currently wishing you had worn more layers.

This time you dealt the cards, making sure you shuffled the them well enough that Dean wouldn’t be able to get a decent hand. You watched as his face remained stoic. When you saw your cards, you literally had nothing. All you had was one Queen of Spades.

“Alright, shoot,” you told him, anxious to see what his hand was.

“Ladies first.”

“How about we reveal it together?” You bargained.

“Okay. Let’s do this. We’ll both show our cards on three,” Dean suggested.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“One. Two… Three!”

You and Dean counted in unison and then flipped your cards at the exact same time. “Highest card!” The two of you shouted in unison. Scanning over your cards, you noticed that he had beaten you by a higher card. The damn guy had a fucking King of hearts!

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted while Dean laughed, pumping his fists in the air and stomping his feet.

“Go on. Take something off! Take off the shirt!” He chuckled.

You tanked the rest of your beer for some sort of relief, comfort, or maybe some ample amount of confidence, but when nothing changed, you cringed. “I can’t,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“Oh c’mon. It’s just a bra. I’ve seen you in your bra before,” Dean confessed.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the man incredulously. “When?” You demanded to know.

“Uh… that’s not important. Now, are you gonna take off an article of clothing or are you admitting defeat right here and now? Because if you are, I’d like to throw in a foot massage in addition to everything else.” He taunted, knowing how easily you got riled up. Your competitiveness was too easy to manipulate.

“I don’t have a bra on,” you mumbled, cheeks flaring up.

“What?” Dean asked, unable to understand you clearly.

“I don’t have a bra on!” You annunciated every words a little louder, embarrassed and irritated that you had to say it again. Dean’s forest-green eyes widened as they subconsciously fell to your covered chest. “Dean!” You scolded, shielding your arms over your breasts.

Shaking his head to rid his lewd thoughts, his eyes caught yours again. “How about this; if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” he grinned. “But then again, if you’re too chicken, I get it. Not everyone got big enough balls to play and finish strip poker.”

You glared at the green-eyed hunter, snatching the rest of his beer and swallowing it all down. “Bite me, you prick!” Your snarky comment made him chuckle, but his eyes never once left your form. He knew he could get you to do it and without him knowing, you actually kind of wanted to. You wanted him to look at you, drool over you. You wanted him to remember this moment; have it etched into his memory so that he could tuck it away and think about it later, during those lonely, frustrating, nights.

Slowly, you reached for the bottom hem of your shirt, taking a deep breath as you lifted it up. Dean’s mouth went dry, his eyes soaking up every inch of skin that was being revealed to him. He was about to see you topless, which made you both nervous in different ways.

Once the shirt slipped passed your head, hair falling from the neck hole, you noticed the way Dean just stared. He didn’t try to be modest about it. He just stared, mouth slightly hanging open before he licked his lips.

“Now those are nice,” he complimented, his eyes fluttering up to meet yours before winking. “Think I can take a picture for later?” he teased.

“Dean!” You chide, wrapping your arms around your twin mounds. “I thought the deal was if I showed you mine; you’d show me yours. Now get on with it!”

Dean chuckled, lifting his hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! I’ll show you mine. A deal is a deal. But first close your eyes,” he instructed.

“Dean…”

“Just close your eyes. So I’m a little shy, shoot me.” You rolled your eyes before closing them, missing the smile on Dean’s lips. Dean wasn’t shy at all. Seconds later, Dean spoke. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes to see Dean lifting his shirt up over his chest. “What?” You questioned, thoroughly confused.

“You showed me your chest so now I’m showing you mine,” he sputtered, leading into a thunderous roar of laughter.

“DEAN!” You shouted, grabbing your shirt and hitting him with it, while keeping your other arm around your breasts. “You’re an idiot! That’s not how this works! Take off your pants! Take off your pants!”

Dean couldn’t help but let his full body laughter take control. There was no way he would be forgetting this night. And there was no way in hell he’d ever let you live this down. Dean was a winner!

--

Liked it? Please reblog and share it with others! Feedback would be greatly appreciated! It’s a writer’s fuel! xx

Say Something Nice Here!

[marunalu]

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs from 1937

Okay, this is one of my first childhood movies I’ve ever watched, so my option may be based more on nostalgia and maybe I’m a little bit biased.

Enjoyment: 

Even after all these years, I really enjoy this movie. The atmosphere and music, the lovely animation and the lovingly designed characters. Everything just fits together. You actually feel like you've landed in the middle of a fairy tale by yourself. There are a few scenes that scared me as a child, such as the transformation of the queen into the old beggar, or the scene as Snow White flees into the woods and sees all the grotesque faces and creatures. These scenes still give me goosebumps. This movie is not particularly action-packed, but it’s not trying to be anyway. It’s more a movie to relax from a stressful day and let yourself be carried away into a fantasy fairytale world. The evil queen's death scene is still one of the most iconic movie villain deaths to this day. Another interesting detail that I found out is, that the two vultures are supposed to be an allusion to Nazi Germany. If you look at the eyes of the vultures, you can see the colors of the German flag black-red-gold and these animals are also a symbol of death and evil.

Animation: 

I just love the animation in this movie. Yes, it's a little bit outdated, but there's so much love and detail behind it. You can really see how much work and time the animators put into it. Great details like the astronomical signs of the zodiacs above the magic mirror, or while Snow White still lives in the castle, it lies in both sunshine and shadow, which is supposed to represent the presence of good and evil living together behind the walls, but as soon as Snow White has left the castle, the next time we see the castle, it’s wrapped in deep darkness, since only the evil queen is still present inside of it. The landscapes look like realistic nature scenerys und honestly, the animals have no fucking buiseness to look so damn cute. I like that the animators gave humans a look with more realistic proportions, while the animals and dwarfs look more cartoonish, cute and funny. That creates a good balance. I also enjoy how the animators try to express feelings und moods with pictures, such as after Snow White was "killed" and the dwarfs and animals mourn over her and it's raining so heavily outside as if the whole world is crying together with them. Scenes that are supposed to be sad are sad. Scenes that are supposed to be scary are scary and scenes that are supposed to reflect hope and happiness do just that. Really, they did a great job!

Music:

Just like with the animation, I can mostly say good things about the music in this movie. Although it’s also somewhat outdated, it fits perfectly in every situation and scene. In creepy moments it’s scary, in carefree moments it’s light and bright and in sad moments it’s sad. Some of the songs are also really good mood-lifters, like "With a Smile and a Song" or "Whistle While you Work." Seriously, if you feel depressed or don't feel like doing chores, just listen to these two optimistic songs, I'm sure you'll feel better afterwards. At Heigh ho I still have to whistle with the melody, I just can't help it and "The Silly Song" and "The Washing Song" are also two very funny and mood-lifting songs.

Funny:

There were actually some funny moments in the movie that made me giggle or chuckle. The funniest scene in my opinion was probably when the dwarves were forced to wash themself and panicked. Dopey and Grumpy are definitely the funniest of the dwarfs, although Grumpy clearly doesn't intend to. Among the animals, it is probably the turtle. The poor guy is always the last to arrive, after all the action is already over and is always the one to whom something stupid happens, be it falling down the stairs or being overrun by the other animals. Interestingly, none of the funny or silly moments come from human characters, only ever from the dwarfs or the animals. Fun fact: there was a kind of competition among the artists that was even fueled by Walt Disney himself. It was kind of a contest among the artists who created the funniest scene involving the dwarfs and which Walt Disney would like the most in the end. The winner received a special bonus from him.

Characters:

This movie is full of lovingly designed characters, whether Snow white, the dwarfs, the animals, the hunter, or the evil queen. However, it must be mentioned that none of the characters has a really complex personality. Snow White is just a pure-hearted angel, the evil queen is just an evil bitch (and I love her for that), the personalitys of the dwarfs correspond to their names and the prince was completely wasted material. I think the hunter and Grumpy have the most complex personalitys of all. The hunter shows loyalty to the queen, but does not follow her blindly and lets Snow White flee instead of killing her, knowing that the queen's mind is evil and twisted. At the beginning of the story, Grumpy has a misogynistic attitude, although unfortunately it’s not discussed in more detail why. I think it would be interesting to find out. The movie only mentions that he thinks all women are evil and try to wrap men around their little fingers. He is always portrayed as grumpy (heh) and in a bad mood, but deep down he cares for the other dwarfs and later Snow White too. He is also the bravest of them and has leadership potential. He reminds me a little of my late grandfather, maybe thats the reason why he is my favorite character in the movie XD

Inequality & diversity:

Fortunately, as far as I could tell, there were no racist hints and moments in this movie. Grumpy's misogynistic behavior at the beginning may a bit annoying and as already mentioned, I think it's a shame that it was not dealt with in more detail. Maybe he was in love with a woman once and she broke his heart? Fortunately, however, he takes this behavior off after a while and shows that he actually cares for Snow White and wants to protect her like the other dwarfs. There are people who think that Snow White is degraded as a useless little housewife, because she does the dwarfs’ housework and that's sexist in their eyes. Although I can understand where this kind of thinking comes from, I disagree. Snow White clearly shows dozens of times during the movie that she greatly enjoys doing housework, cooking and baking, unlike Cinderella. It’s even more important to mention, that Snow White doesn’t consider it obvious to be allowed to live with the dwarfs, even though she is a princess and could simply order it. No, instead it’s important to her, that she has to work to be allowed to stay. The dwarfs give her a place to stay and protect her, so she helps them with the housework and cooks for them. And the most important thing is that she likes to do it. Another point is that Snow White is definitely portraied as the boss in the house. She makes it clear to the dwarfs that they should adhere to certain rules of decency and can also be quite strict with them, almost like a mother. The dwarfs listen to her (albeit reluctantly when it comes to washing) and are grateful for her help. I personally don't see anything sexist about it. It would be different if the dwarfs forced Snow White to cook for them and doing all the housework stuff.

My conclusion:

Watch it! This is not an action-packed movie, but more suitable for relaxing and freeing yourself from stress. This movie is full of positive messages as always trying to stay optimistic, even if you are going through dark times (always remember that Snow White had to leave the only home she knew, was demoted to a kitchen maid by her stepmother and who also wants to see her dead, just because she is more beautiful then her and still Snow White manages to look positive into the future). It also contains an important message to children: don't just welcome every stranger into your house and above all, don't eat (and drink) everything that a stranger offers you! I give this movie 7 out of 10 stars!

[m00nslippers]

You just hit the nail on the head for the main reasons I don't read JayTim. I don't care for Tim on a good day. I have no opinion on him and don't want to. But I will read anything that prominently features Jason. I just don't like Jason's characterization in most JayTim fics

Yeah, most JayTim have this thing where Tim needs to be right and the best at everything all the time (except cooking and house chores, Jason is allowed to be better than Tim at that). I know some good ones where that isn’t the case, but some otherwise lovely JayTim have me sighing and shaking my head because the whole thing paints Jason as incompetent or less competent than Tim, which is so backwards to me. Fanfic writers also feminize Tim a lot which I’m not really into. But power to you, if it makes you happy, I just personally don’t enjoy it.

I’m on the fence about Tim, himself. I have tried to read his stuff a few times and I just can’t get into it, so I’m not super knowledgeable except for reading meta and seeing panels. I want to like him, but it’s honestly just hard for me to figure out who he is supposed to be? He feels like someone’s self-insert character a lot of the time, to be honest. Both in fic and in canon. He’s not a perfect person, but he feels like he’s been written in a way that is…manipulative, I guess? The writers are trying so hard to make me think he’s so great and that just makes me want to dislike him. The few flaws he has are ‘positive flaws’ (overworks himself, doesn’t take care of his health, he’s stubborn and a know-it-all but he’s always right so it’s fine, apparently, these ‘flaws’ just serve as a way to get you to sympathize with him) they pretty much never provide a situation where he’s required to apologize for his actions. Rather the opposite, he was right all along so other characters have to apologize to him.

He does have some minor flaws (he’s a bit sexist, for example, and he just decides things for people and if they disagree he just dismisses them as stupid) but almost no one ever calls him out on them in canon in a satisfying way. Basically Tim is just always right all the time. Bad things happen to him, it’s never his fault, he can do no wrong. The CEO-Tim thing pretty much smacks of Gary-Stuness–even though I’m pretty sure Tim never actually was a CEO he was just responsible for Bruce’s voting shares on the board and it drives me crazy that this Tim being the CEO of WE myth is so widely perpetuated even though the idea of anyone making a 17 year old a CEO of a major company is stupid on every level and wouldn’t even happen in the comic world. Also he dropped out of school and then later they changed it that now he wants to go to go to college in Rebirth and now I’m just confused about what his personality is supposed to be. Tim is constantly billed to me as the ‘relatable’ Robin but I can’t relate to him at all. Which is fine…I guess. Apparently some people like him, I don’t want to take away from that, but I think these are just the reasons why his character is struggling to find an audience lately. I just don’t find him very interesting, myself.

Jason and Dick and Damian have really obvious issues where their flaws come back to shoot them in the foot time and again. Dick has a temper and holds grudges, and when he’s angry he unfairly takes it out on the people around him and cuts people out of his life at the drop of a hat to the point it’s a little ridiculous. Damian is so insecure that he tries to assert his superiority over everyone he meets, especially his ‘brothers’, and he jumps to bad conclusions because he lacks experience and is too self-assured. Jason is so distrustful of others he has almost no friends and frequently tests those around him to see if they are still loyal, and he is such a practical-thinker that he comes off as callous or lacking empathy. People give me/Jason-fans shit for liking someone who has made some choices that hurt people and make him seem like a bad person but I don’t get it because I like that about him. I don’t bitch about it or rag on him for it because I find those ‘issues’ to actually be positive things about him. These flaws make the other Robins interesting to me, that actually gives them somewhere to grow, and a place for me to look back at and say, wow look how far my baby has come!

For Tim, as far as I am concerned, he doesn’t actually grow in anything except maybe confidence or cynicism. Growing in confidence is alright, but he was pretty damn confident before to be honest, and he never really failed either (as far as I can think of), he had the guts to call out Batman and demand he get a new Robin in his earliest appearances and it worked, his confidence has basically never backfired to my knowledge. It never effected anyone but himself. The confidence storyline pretty much peaked in YJ and Teen Titans, I would say, and then it switched over to the edgey stuff after all his friends were killed off and Robin was given to Damian. After that he got more cynical. When you grow in cynicism, that is actually a downfall-storyline, that’s a villain-creation storyarc, but that didn’t happen either. They have been dabbling in it with various storylines, but if they ever went for it that would give Tim some actual flaws so the writers won’t commit.

I think Tim has potential to be interesting, but they just need to start making him wrong every once in a while. They need to stop making him the woobie in all of his stories. And they need to let him be bad at something or mess up in a way that is his fault. I feel like he has a sympathetic, interesting origin story. When I think of the person Tim should be based on his origins and upbringing I get a more satisfying picture than what the comics paint to me.

I think a lot of people are going to read this and disagree with me, or think I’m being unfair to Tim. I welcome that. If you have some points or comics that you think could change my mind, I’d like to read what you’ve got to say. But give actual evidence, okay? Comics panels, not just feelings. I would especially like to see people calling Tim out or Tim messing up big time in a way that is clearly his fault, because those are the kinds of things that might actually change my mind about him.

[sweet-nebulae]

Since I have many callouses on my hands from all the part time I do and chores I wonder what would some of the mystic messenger characters think? It really make me self conscious 😅

♡  (°〇°) Oh, anonnie! I know what you mean - I don’t have callouses on my palms, but I do on the pads of my fingers from pricking them for blood every day. TT They always catch on nice fabric.. I def don’t think you should be self-conscious of them though! ^^ You said ‘some’ so I just assumed you meant ‘all’ the characters

♡  I tried to make sure they were a little different, but so many of them I think would respond in very similar ways… TT I’m sorry if this isn’t good enough

✿ Zen ✿

It’s sort of understandable why you’d feel self-conscious about something like that when you’re with Zen

Despite having led a rough life in his past, his skin is smooth as fuck

What the fuck Zen, how????? You were in a gang how did you escape unscathed

Still, because of how image-conscious he is, it’s not really surprising that you’re self-conscious about something small like that

When it comes to Zen, though, he has trouble spotting imperfections in you

Read; he’s pretty damn sure you have none

If you bring it up to him he’s going to be shocked it had been bothering you

It’s just a callous! You’re still just as beautiful and perfect to him as you would be without them

If it really bothers you though he’d probably suggest some moisturizers or lotions you could use to help combat them while vehemently trying to make sure you understood he didn’t think you needed to do so if you didn’t want to

He’d think it was cute if you adopted the same skin-care routine as him though

✿ Yoosung ✿

Subconsciously rubs his fingers along your own just because it’s a different feeling

Which is.. kinda weird ;; Yoosung what are you doing

When you call him out on he just looks confused

Was he doing that?? Oops

Wouldn’t just guess that it was a point of self-consciousness for you though

When you finally bring it up to him his violet eyes would go so wide

Instantly grabbing your hands and turning an earnest gaze on you

“They’re nothing to feel embarrassed about! Really!”

If you don’t believe him by just words alone he’ll pull your hands up to his lips and press kisses all over them

He knows that won’t just miraculously make you feel better about them, but from then on he makes sure every interaction with you has at least one kiss pressed somewhere to your hand

✿ Jaehee ✿

Doesn’t think twice about it ever

You’re both hard-workers - hers is just more phone calls, computer/paperwork, and dealing with people like Mr. Han while yours is more physical

Callouses are just a natural thing that would happen to your hands

She understands the want to feel more physically appealing but she’s secretly relieved you have the callouses

It means you have less of a chance of getting hurt!

Will probably be one of the only ones to admit this to you too

Callouses are created to protect your hands, after all - if you get rid of them, something might happen!

She wants to keep you safe, but at the end of the day she also understands that they’re your hands and if you really feel badly about them then telling you not to do anything to them would just be unkind

Expect her to take a rare day off to take you to a full body spa

That way you can both relax and feel rejuvenated

Also.. Jaehee in a towel dkjfgd

Her thoughts: ..you in a towel dkjfgd

✿ Jumin ✿

Jumin isn’t a stranger to hard work - but he is a stranger to manual labor

Still, he wouldn’t really think twice about feeling callouses on your hands

It’s a part of you, he loves you, and after the initial ah, I see he won’t really think of it again

Especially considering he wants to pay for EVERYTHING for you, which means in his mind you won’t have to do that kind of work ever again

It creates a really obvious (to you, at least) sign of the class difference between you and Jumin

Just another reminder that you two come from different worlds

Jumin is perceptive when it comes to you at least, so he’ll notice that something is bothering you, but he won’t be able to pin-point it without asking

Is ready to throw money at any problem you have to help you feel better, but is sort of shocked once you reveal what it is

He will still throw money at it, don’t get me wrong - you’ll suddenly have way too many lotions in your life

??? Sure, he noticed them, but they aren’t anything to be embarrassed of

Some people have them and some people don’t, that’s all

Will assure you however you need that they don’t make him think badly of you

Will definitely try to assure you through sex, smh jumin

Holds your hand a lot more in public now - it doesn’t do anything for the paparazzi, of course, but it’s his own silent show of support to you

Bonus: Elizabeth III doesn’t think badly of you for them either ^^

✿ Saeyoung ✿

Something like that probably can’t be background searched about you, but he’s perceptive enough to figure it out before you tell him either way

He doesn’t really give it away that he knows though

He might hold your hand more often and compliment them more, but there’s never any other indication that he knows

When you finally bring it up to him he still won’t let you know that he knew - he’ll just tilt his head and seriously listen, because it’s an actual concern of yours

Will grab your hand and kiss one of them as soon as you’re done talking, because he has absolutely no shame when it comes to his love for you

He gets not liking an aspect of yourself not deemed to be perfect, but that doesn’t mean he agrees with it!

Depending on how upset you are, he’ll either genuinely try to be soothing and comforting –

Which probably involves a hug and some cuddling and hair kisses, with quiet murmured words of affection

Or he’ll be a little more casual and relaxed about it –

Which means a suggestion to raid Zen’s skin-care products to see what can be done about them to make you feel better

Will suggest using Elly to get Zen ‘incapacitated’ so you can genuinely raid his house

He’s probably joking

Please say no just in case

✿ Jihyun ✿

Another one that’s going to need to be straight-up asked his opinion on it

100% genuinely surprised by you feeling that way too

Of course he knows about them! He just never thought about them as anything other than a part of you that made you you

His eyesight may not be… the best, but that means he maps out your body through touch more than just his eyes

that sounds dirty whoops

maybe it is idk what you two get up to

Will tell you in no uncertain terms that it doesn’t bother him at all

He understands having things that you’re self-conscious about, but he will assure you that you don’t need to feel that way around him

He knows it isn’t so simple that his words will just automatically make you feel better

Even if it isn’t that big of a deal to you he’ll wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your head

Or if you’re taller than him he’ll make sure the two of you are sitting so he can get you to lean on him

He will make sure his chin is on your head, is my point, and your heart near his chest

It’s a silly concept, he knows, but he hopes if you hear how steadily his heart is beating, how in love he is with you, that you’ll understand the full extent of his words when he says it does not bother him at all

You’ve always been his favorite model of choice - now he just gently demands you be his model more often

✿ Saeran ✿

Surprises you by just asking about it one day with zero tact

Then instantly gets red and flustered because he was like –

fuck shit i didn’t mean to sound like i’m interrogating them

It’s actually kind of funny and cute to watch

In his defense though, he was just curious about what you did every day to get them

No matter what your answer was, he’d be clearly interested

You could literally just say you hand-wash clothes and he would be listening intently

He doesn’t have any of his own, but he has a lot of scars, physical and mental

And you don’t think any less of him for them

So..

It’ll make him a bit uncomfortable, but he’ll tell you in that quiet voice of his that it doesn’t bother him

Callouses, scars - just because they’re present and discernible on you doesn’t change how attractive he thinks you are

he’s gripping your hands a bit too tightly now but please let him fkjdhhgd he’s about to throw himself out the window from embarrassment

✿ Vanderwood ✿

Honestly probably doesn’t notice it

He wears gloves the majority of the time, so he wouldn’t feel them

But the gloves also cover his own callouses - you can bet he has some considering his line of work

You’ll have to ask him bluntly what he thinks about them

Might come off a bit uncaring at first because he just doesn’t understand

Like??? What do you mean, what does he think about them

They’re a natural reaction to protect the skin

???

Would ask you what you think of his own callouses suddenly

They don’t make you like him any less, right?

Then there’s no way yours is going to make him like you any less either

And that’s that, he considers the matter done with now

…will side-glance you if you’re clearly still upset by it

Doesn’t know what else to do - he isn’t great at comforting people on a good day

He loves you, and he’s better at showing that through actions, not words

Probably just reaches out to hold your hands with a blush on his face and his eyes averted

[diredigression]

Dire’s Sole: The Aftermath of Olivia

A quick intermission after Satellite Station Olivia where Sole finally starts learning what to expect from the wasteland. Next she has to learn how to cope with it.

Mr. Sturges pushes her down into a chair and shoves a beer in her hand. “Talk.”

She focuses on examining the yellowed label on the bottle. Gwinnett Stout. It’ll do. She’d have preferred an ale, or better, maybe whiskey. She picks at the label, and it flakes off under her nails. The paper is crispy and the glue has dried. It almost feels hundreds of years old. Maybe…maybe it is.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

It’s the second evening after the chaos of Station Olivia. After finding the locket and returning to Sanctuary, Mr. Garvey had put Sole to bed and insisted that she recuperate from her injury a day or two before making the trek back out to the Abernathy’s. Now the three of them are gathered in the neighbor’s house, seated on ancient, mildewed armchairs, with the stray dog that had earlier attached itself to them crunching on a stick in a corner. Mr. Sturges is perched on the edge of his chair, glaring at her. Mr. Garvey is draped back in his, sipping his beer, eyeing both of them.

“Who doesn’t know what a mole rat is? Or raiders? Letting Preston fight alone, you could’ve gotten both of you killed!” He’s practically yelling now. “Are you good for anything besides housework? Look, new gal. Don't know what cave you're from. Don't care. But you need to shake off the cobwebs and smell the cordite, or we're all dead. Because the only thing keeping us alive is each other, and you sure as hell aren’t carrying your weight on the defense side.”

Her eyes finally flash up to his, panic meeting fury. They flash back down just as quickly, and she huddles silently in her chair.

“That’s enough, Sturges.” Mr. Garvey speaks soothingly. “Besides, Codsworth was with me…You’re a vault dweller, right? From 111. You don’t have to tell me anything about it, just yes or no.”

She doesn’t look up. Vault dweller? She didn’t exactly dwell in…in the vault…not that she remembers, anyway. But she did come out of it. Eventually she nods, almost imperceptibly.

“Alright, that’s good, that’s progress. I thought 111 was abandoned, everyone did, but apparently not if you’re here. I know messed up shit went down in those vaults. I’m sorry if you were in one of the bad ones. You don’t have to tell me, but I’m here if you ever want to talk about it.” He pauses, gives her a few moments to speak if she wants, but she doesn’t move. “Okay. So, clearly, whatever did happen there didn’t prepare you for life out here. You’re pretty lost, huh?”

Her eyes begin to burn. No. She can’t let that through. If she lets herself feel that pain, then she’s really going to break and make a fool of herself and—no. She stares at the beer bottle, traces every crack in the paper with her eyes, memorizing them, feeling the texture of the fragile label under her fingertips, grounding herself on the real sensations outside of her spiraling panic, while the back of her mind focuses on breathing slowly and deliberately. Once she’s back under control, she nods again.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll give you a rundown on…the Commonwealth, I guess. Stop me if you know it already.”

Mr. Garvey talks, and Mr. Sturges calms and chips in on some details, and she releases her brittle tension enough to begin sipping the beer. It is in fact the year 2287, she accepts. Two hundred and ten years since the bombs that fell, just days ago in her memory. Two hundred ten years of…cryostasis, I guess. As wild as that sounds. Frozen, alive, unconscious, as the world moved on without her.

Plenty of humans still alive. The species survived nuclear annihilation. Normal people, settlers, cities, but also violent gangs of raiders, which she’d now encountered twice, and “gunners”, and scarier, subtler groups. Mutated animals, some of which she’s already seen too: mole rats, deathclaws, mutated dogs, “yao guai” that just sounded like angrier bears—because of course bears had survived the apocalypse—and a too-wide variety of bloodthirsty insects.

New creations. Horrifically irradiated ghouls, some intelligent and still humanoid, many rotted into ferality. Super mutants, giant aggressive monsters with matching hounds. Synths, that may or may not be identifiably robotic, that may or may not be hiding, undiscovered, unidentifiable, among them.

By the end, her first beer and a second are finished and she’s feeling at peace with her fate. “Aiiiight Mr. Garvey. So what you’re telling me is this entire damn brave new world wants to kill me.”

He smiles slightly at her newfound, albeit slurred, ability to speak. “Pretty much. Also, if you don’t stop calling us mister, you get to fight the raiders for the next beer supply run.”

“Well fine then, Preston. If that’s what you want, that’s what you get. So if I need a weapon…you said there’s no more softball?”

“Yeah, no one knows that or baseball anymore. Moe over in Diamond City claims baseball was two teams beating each other to death with swatters, but hell if I know whether he’s right or not. Why’re you so interested? And how did you get a swatter?”

The peace of her buzz sours slightly. “That’s…yeah. Um. You said Mr.—uh, Sturges could modify it for me? Make it more…dangerous?”

Sturges throws her a sloppy salute. She notices he has a few more empty bottles lying around his feet than she does. “Sure can, just give me a chain and an hour and I’ll have her all gussied up for you.”

She feels almost as if she’s floating apart into two personalities. Her pre-bombs self, still sober, frets in the background. Not her softball bat. Not for a weapon. That bat was…but her current self, tipsy, in emotionless disbelief of the new world she’s been dropped into, is the one controlling her voice. As if from a distance, she watches herself answer. “Let’s do it, Sturges. I’ll get it to you tomorrow. Guess I’m a swatter girl.”

Sturges claps in delight. Mr. Gar—Preston—smiles, almost sadly, and nods.

——————————————————————————————

The next morning Preston and Sole set back out for Abernathy, the dog—Dogmeat, they called it, what an awful name for such a gorgeous thing—roaming far ahead and behind them in excitement at the adventure. Sole carries her bat—her swatter, now—propped over her shoulder. It now carries a heavy chain wrapped around the barrel and tacked in place, forever ruined for softball. Not that it matters anymore. The balance is totally different now, of course, but she can see the extra weight giving her swings some substantial extra power with practice. Sturges even managed to rig up a rifle sling to it so she can wear it across her back. She’s too strung out from the last night’s nightmares of green giants and hideous bears and robotic men to risk putting it out of her grip, though, even though Preston assures her that this quick trip is perfectly safe. An engorged bloatfly larger than her head does make a few passive darts at her, at which she attempts a few frantic swings and misses completely. A bright red blast from Preston’s musket explodes the thing in a rain of entrails, and she suddenly becomes nauseous and withdrawn for the rest of the hike.

Otherwise, they reach the farm without incident. Mr. Abernathy—Blake—takes the locket back tenderly, his voice becoming hoarse. “I can’t thank you enough for this. You risked your life to get Mary’s locket back to us…”

“Protecting families like you from scum like those raiders is what the Minutemen are here for,” says Preston. “We just need the support of settlements like yours to build our power again until we can protect the entire Commonwealth. Now that you know we’re good for our word, will you support us?”

“Yeah…yeah, absolutely. We don’t have much, but we have space for you to stay and a workshop for repairs. You’re welcome to our home, any time. I just…I need to go talk to Connie and Lucy now…thank you.”

——————————————————————————————

Now that her bat is back in her hands, she begins to remember the drive to train with it. For days after the return to Abernathy she intersperses her chores with training, learning the new feel of the modded swatter. Practice swings through the air, slowly, faster, faster. Makeshift t-ball stands from old fenceposts topped with rocks or bottles or clumps of dirt. Eventually dragging the men in to pitch objects at her (with varying degrees of accuracy). Her confidence in her old bat rekindles.

Every night, she dreams of robot men and of the body with the bloody pulp for a head.

*****************************************************************************

Dire’s Sole

Chronological:

Introducing: Sole

Abernathy Farm

One-offs:

Hancock Meets Sole

Dire’s Sole Art

A first sketch

Wham, Bam, Alakazam and Goodbye

Christmas Feels

MakeHuman v1

The Silver Shroud (with line art and shading progress)