#and that's all my fucking dash is and it sucks; sometimes they even mix two of these buckets and it's like... that's just no but twice

[medicinemane]

Ok, can I just complain about what has just clicked to me that it's actually a full on trend with youtube thumbnails?

Fucking sick of the pointing arrow with "winner?" every fucking time there's anything that involves any kind of competition these days

Saw it a little, thought it was dumb, but it's becoming more and more and more common and... and I'm not even that mad at the people who do it cause I get it, but fuck I'm sick of it and fuck I'm kinda sick of... of if it's working the people who have shiny brain and click cause oh! must find out, or if it's not working the youtube algorithm for I guess making it seem like it work

Actually I suppose I just am fucking tired of the whole culture that leads to it in the first place of fucking gotta have jingling keys at all time, gotta fucking consume, always need something to consume

Fuck man, I'm almost glad that some days like the past couple I've just kind of sat around in malaise, bored out of my mind while not being able get myself to do anything I wanted or find anything that was entertaining... but like, fuck, I think I'd rather get like that sometimes but know how to just sit through it than have to have new content every second of every day or else

(And this isn't a straw man and this isn't railing against the youth or something, I know a dude that's like that who is a bit older than I am)

"Winner?", man, just fucking pitch me what's happening and I'll watch it or not

[lokidokeyartichoki]

Top five fandoms and foods???

ooooh like the experience of being in the fandoms??

Top 5 Fandoms For Experiences:

NBC Hannibal. Literally you can not top being part of the Hannibal fandom. The show has been over for like 7 years and we’re still out here making shit like it’s gonna come back. Also because the subject matter is so dark there’s a rampant hysterical crack part of the fandom to balance it out. Being a fannibal is an experience i have not yet found matched.

uhh actually that’s the only fandom i can recommend or even say i enjoy being in tbh. I dabble around but like the Fannibal community is the only one i’m regularly engaging and enjoying.

But I can say the top 5 fandoms I’ve been in during specific times!

Supernatural during the 2020 election and technically season 15. That. That was performance art and nothing could match that. I was actively part of the SPN fandom from like 2012-2014 I think but I ended up ditching the show and just kind of kept up with it via tumblr and what was on my dash. Season 8 was an experience as it aired but season 15? The pandemic? The election? that was something else.

The 2012-2015 Avengers Fandom. This was before we found out we were all found family baited. There is something so whole and wonderful about what we created then. Everything from Hawkeye lives in the vents to an entire universe made just for Darcy because she’s that cool. That was like the height of things and it was great.

Star Wars when The Force Awakens came out. This was it for me. This was where my Star Wars nonsense started. Poe Dameron sucked me in, and now I can read and write in Aurebesh. I would say also Star Wars during the Mandalorian seasons. The amount of all of us wanted this dad to get some sleep is too much. There’s something to be said for how dividing the experience is with Star Wars because there are some serious arguments that make no sense to me, so sometimes it’s not fun. But most of the time it’s a lot of fun just thinking about that shit in space.

Good Omens when it first came out was a breathe of fresh air. It still is, but the fandom was perhaps one of the most interesting and diverse experiences I’ve ever had. I’ve never seen more positive amounts of ace and nonbinary rep in my life, and there is something so personal about that experience for me. There’s of course the fact that it was a long standing fandom to begin with but the show coming out really breathed a lot of life into it and the amount of art! the stories! the fact that these two genderless beings are in love with each other despite everything! top tier shit.

Pokémon. The world of pokémon is such an interesting experience and universe to explore and games like Arceus have really opened that up. Every time a new game releases I know tumblr will be ablaze with memes and stories and lore. There’s something so homey about it because I was in first grade when pokémon made it big in the states. This is a life long thing for me and the extrapolations people have made on the universe beyond what being a trainer means are so fucking cool.

Top 5 foods!

Cheeseburger with waffle fries

trail mix

cottage cheese pancakes

steak burrito from the mexican place near me

pizza bread (family recipe)

[whereisten]

No Overnight Stays (m)

Summary: you’re an escort assigned to a different man for each day of the week. The rules are simple and strict, the money is grand, and simply put, you enjoy your job. But what happens when you start to develop feelings for one—or maybe two—of your clients?

Pairing: Female reader x Mark (x Jaehyun)

Genre: sugar baby!reader, smuttttt, a little fluff and a dash of angst :/ sorry, love triangle

Warnings: alcohol use, cursing, descriptive smut (breast fondling, fingering, oral sex (m and f receiving), cockwarming, slight somnophilia, facial, threesome, cream pie, impregnation kink, dirty talk, sir kink, hair pulling and spanking, double penetration, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex (be safe tho!), rough sex) I hope that’s it lmaooo

Word Count: 5.5K

————-

A man for every day of the week. That was your agreement with your escort agency. They’d set up your schedule so that you’d “belong” to one man for a specific day of the week. 

Some days you’d have sex with them, some days you were just their company or a place for them to go when they got tired of their spouses.

But either way, you were paid very handsomely for your services. All you had to do was have your phone on and make sure you were available to provide the services asked of you within the hour. They all had keys to your apartment, so they could let themselves in and wait if you weren’t there.

It was easy and luckily for you, the men you dealt with were all young business men that respected you. Some were rough and demanding, some were soft and shy, but they all made sure you were comfortable with their requests and granted you a safe word. Furthermore, the agency provided you with emergency buttons for you to place in every room, just in case one of your clients got out of hand.

Tonight, you had just finished up with Yuta, an incredibly handsome man that was away from his wife back home in Japan for a 6 month job venture. A pal of his suggested the agency to him so that his needs would be satisfied while he was away from home and based on his preferences and desires, you were his top choice.

He was kind and careful, whispering sweet words into your ear as he fingered you and got you ready. He treated you like you were his wife, and you often felt your face become warm. But when he was inside you, he pushed deep and hard, making sure his hips met with your ass as he bent you over the table.

“Ahh fuck..” he curses while releasing himself into you and tugging on your hair harshly.

He pants and pulls himself out, watching as his cum mixed with yours leaks down your shaking legs.

“Did you eat?” He asks, zipping his pants as he watches you pull your panties back up.

“No not yet, but I have some leftover spaghetti that is calling my name.”

You move your hair out of your face.

“I can grab something for you before I leave..what would you like?” Yuta shimmies his jacket onto his toned body.

He was always sweet like this, unlike some men that just left.

“Ohh—Hmm...there’s a place—“ you started but his phone interrupted you.

“Oh..I’m sorry..it’s her..” He looks up at you slowly and you can see the regret fall on his face. He really loved his wife, he couldn’t help but feel guilty sometimes.

“I-I have to go.”

He turns to leave and you walk behind him to lock the door.

“Hey hun! I just left work!” His voice echoes in the hallway.

You sigh and walk to your bathroom with a slight limp. Yuta always stretched you out and left you aching slightly, but you knew it was something a little warm water would fix.

While you stood under the hot water like a sinner bathing in hell, you thought about your life. Were you really happy? Sure, the easy money you made and the “free” upscale apartment you lived in were amazing. How could you ask for more?

Well that’s just the thing, your heart didn’t care about these material things sometimes, it wanted a person. Someone that would love you, really love you. However, with a lifestyle like this, how could you expect to find a partner that would be okay with it? How could you devote time to them?

You shook your head and stepped out of the grand shower.

You poured yourself some wine and sat by yourself on the couch. It was a typical night for you. When all the fun was over, you were alone.

———

[The Next Day]

You went grocery shopping when Mark dinged you on the agency’s app. He’d be at your apartment soon so you needed to wrap things up and get back.

Mark was possibly your favorite client. The young single man was very gentle and always asked what you wanted to do. Of course, he knew that he wanted to have sex and that’s what he paid for, but he didn’t feel comfortable with handling your arranged situation that way.

Some days you’d just watch a few movies or go for coffee together. Some days he’d show you new restaurants or museums while you hung onto his arm like an actual girlfriend. He wasn’t afraid to bring you with him anywhere because the truth was that he wanted you to be his...and not just in the sexual or physical way. He wanted to date you.

Having been so consumed with work all the time, he found that you were one of the few things that made him relax and be happy, he could experience life with you and he was incredibly thankful for that.

“Hey Mark!” You struggle to get into your apartment with both arms filled with bags.

“Oh, let me get that for you.” He rushes over from the dining table and to the door to help you in.

After settling all of the bags onto the table, he chuckles. “So I take it you don’t like making two trips?”

You giggle and shake your head. “No..absolutely not. I don’t wanna waste precious time that I could be spending with you.” You teased him and stepped closer.

You held out your arm and flexed it, embarrassingly enough, no muscles showed through. “Plus, can’t you see how strong I am?”

Mark laughs out and leans forward to kiss you.

He holds your face in his hands like you were made of glass, gently caressing your cheeks as your tongue dances with his.

Your arms wrap around his waist so you feel his warm chest on yours. Your eyes shut immediately and you smelled his fresh cologne, like cotton.

He pulls away, kissing your forehead as you regain your steady breathing.

“What do you want to do today?”

Your heart races at his question. You wanted to cuddle, to just be with someone and feel loved. But that would be pushing the terms and conditions.

You search your apartment to avoid his gaze, but he knew you were deep in thought, his kiss had sent your mind into a wild frenzy. What did it mean when an escort was affected by such measly things? 

“Come on..don’t think too hard now, tell me what’s the first thing that came into your mind?” Mark leans forward to whisper low into your ear. His voice, deep and husky, makes you even more confused.

You finally look up at him and sigh. “Ahh Mark, you make me feel..” You shake your head.

Were you about to be honest with him and tell him about your growing crush?

His eyes grow and a smile creeps across his face.

“Like sleeping..” You look down again, never seeing his face fall.

“Oh, dude..am I that boring?”

You chuckle and look back up at him to see the genuine hurt in his eyes.

You shake your head and press your hand onto his chest. “No-No, you’re not..it’s just..”

“Y/n...why do you keep looking at me like that?” Mark knew there was something else you wanted, he could see the doubt in your eyes, the internal struggle you faced was coming to the surface. He also knew you drank the night before based on the empty bottle of wine in the living room.

“I-I don’t know,” You chuckle and step away from him. “Maybe I’m still a little hungover. I’m sorry.”

You start to take your things out of your bags. “Help me out, will you?” You pout.

Mark chuckles and takes the bread out of the bag. “I can’t believe I’m paying for this.”

You shrug your shoulders. “You’re the one that asked me what I want to do.”

He sighs. “Okay, touché. But after this, we’ll cuddle and sleep since you’re tired and/or hungover.”

Yeah, it was 6 in the evening, but Mark was just happy to be with you.

“Sounds good.”

After you put everything away, you took Mark to your room and sat him down on the bed.

You took his hoodie off over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. You ran your fingers through it, watching as his wide eyes gazed up at you like you were an angel.

He places both hands on either side of your waist, watching as you unbutton your cardigan in front of him slowly. Mark grows hotter and hotter with each button coming undone, a slight sliver of your beautiful, soft skin growing into your naked chest drives him crazy.

“God, you’re beautiful.”

He licks his lips, tightening his grip on your waist as he brings you down onto his lap. He wastes no time, latching into your nipple and sucking it. His tongue flicks across the nub while your hands run through his scalp, causing a low groan to escape his body.

He aches for you, his member strains against his sweatpants. You feel it press onto your jeans as you also get hot. With the way Mark’s spit coats your breasts, you’re sure you’d be showing through your jeans how aroused you are soon enough.

Your room becomes steamy suddenly, the two of you filling it with moans and whimpers as he massages your breasts.

“B-baby..I want you..” You whine and grind down onto him. 

Mark loves when you call him that while begging for more.

He places you down onto the bed, helping you take your jeans off as your mouth falls open.

He drags your panties down your legs slowly, teasingly.

“Baby..please..”

“I thought you wanted to sleep?” He raises an eyebrow as he pries your legs open and moves his face to the space created.

He focuses on your heat, licking his lips when he sees how wet you are already.

“Yeah..but..” your sentence is cut short when he licks a long stripe along your entrance.

“Mark!” You yelp as his tongue surprises you.

He kisses the inner skin of your thigh while still gripping the crooks of your knees. “Yes, sweetheart. Do you want me to stop? Does the little baby want to sleep?”

He asks with a mocking tone, but not without brushing two digits over your clit. You gasp and flinch under him.

“You’re so cruel..” 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll just fuck you to sleep if that’s what you want.”

He says before pushing his fingers in harder, finding that fleshy spot instantly as your legs widen more. He kisses your bud while looking up at you through dark eyes.

“Am I the best one?” He asks innocently, fingers still pumping in and out of your soaking entrance.

“Y-yes..” you immediately answer without thinking, your mind solely focused on the building tension in your stomach.

He moves his head up and down as he licks your clit. He just needs to apply a bit more pressure and you’ll be in the clouds.

You intertwine your fingers with locks of his luscious brown hair and arch your back.

“More baby, please.”

“Oh look at you begging..” he breathes against your aching pussy.

He fingers pump harder and caress that one spot that he knows will have you reeling in just a few minutes.

“You know..I think you should just be mine..will you be mine?”

He says in between kisses on your clit.

And you’re so close, all you can do is nod and whimper.

You lick your lips while looking at the gorgeous man in between your legs. He locks eyes with you as his tongue works wonders on your core when combined with his fingers.

You clench around him from the sight. He chuckles and cracks a smile at how easily you fall apart. But he doesn’t let you experience the so desperately needed orgasm you need. He withdraws his fingers, a pop echoes into the room. 

“Mark?!” You cry out at the sudden emptiness.

Mark mimics your pout and hovers over you.

“Why don’t you answer my question first?”

You caress his face and lick your lips. “Can we talk about this later?”

He shakes his head. “It’s a simple question, y/n. I know you feel it too.”

He was right, you did feel a connection with him, but you couldn’t let him know that. You could lose your job.

“Mark..” you whisper low as you bring his face closer to yours. You lock eyes with him, your gaze shifting from an innocent one to one that is filled with lust and fire.

“The only thing I want to feel right now is your cock..I just want to feel it so deep in my silky, wet pussy.”

He swallows hard as you push your body up slightly to rub your entrance against his crotch.

“Come on, baby..fill me up...I won’t let a single drop escape”

Mark can’t take your lustful words any longer. He pushes his prior thoughts to the side and focuses on easing his painfully hard cock.

He immediately pushes his waistband down and looks into your eyes as he pushes into you. You moan as you feel completely satisfied by his long and girthy cock filling you up and touching all parts of your velvety walls instantly.

He watches your head fall into the pillow behind you and kisses your neck.

“God..I hate the way you make me so fucking horny that I forget what I was even asking..”

It was a lie, Mark knew exactly what he was asking, but decided to push it away since you wouldn’t give in to him.

He rarely cursed when he was with you, a part of you felt that you had awoken something deep within him so you decided to push him along further. He thrusts into you slowly and gently like he usually did. Mark was your typical vanilla sex partner and it made for a great balance to the opposite partners you had. But you wanted to see just how riled up he could get.

“Oh, Mark, just yesterday another man fucked me until I couldn’t walk..how can I be yours if you can’t compete with men like that?”

You hold his face in your hand and look into his eyes.

He chuckles and pushes into you hard and sudden.

“If that’s what you want, Princess, that’s all you have to say..you know I can do whatever you ask.”

“Be rough with me, make me yours..baby.”

He presses your knees far apart and lifts himself up from your chest.

He slides in and out of you hard, watching as your breasts move up and down from his thrusts.

“You’re the perfect fit for me."

He tilts his head to the side and goes deeper.

His cock curves into you at the perfect angle, making you clench and arch your back more.

You’re sprawled out under him, your knees to your chest as you bite your bottom lip and feel that tension build again.

He runs a hand down your warm chest and stomach, his fingers draw circles onto your skin, causing small fires to dance across it. The pads of his fingertips then lift the skin above your pussy, exposing your clit to him.

He taps it gently and hums to himself. “So pretty..”

He thrusts into you hard as you squeal.

His other hand finds your throat and grips it.

“Gonna fuck you to sleep just like you asked..but then..I won’t leave..I’ll stay inside your pretty pussy since it’s mine..and I’ll fuck it again in the morning...since it’s mine.”

Mark wasn’t asking anymore. He was going to make you his. And as much as you wanted that to happen, you were nervous as you had a job to fulfill. If he stayed over and into the next morning, he’d be cutting into your other client’s day. You could be caught with him and receive a complaint for breaking the “no overnight stays” rule.

“I’m so close..” You run your hands down his abs and watch as he pounds into you from above. He pants heavily, his palm feels sweaty around your throat.

“Can’t wait to cum deep inside you..nothing will leak out..Isn’t that right, baby?” His fingertips move faster into your clit. Mark was always great at finding your sweet spots and it was because he truly cared about your pleasure.

You nod and clench around him again, feeling the head of his cock twitch.

His movement stutters from the action, he falls forward as his grip on your neck tightens.

He cums into your body, filling you to the brim with everything he has. 

You climax as well, scratching into his back as you arch into him more. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you curse.

That was the first of many climaxes for that night. You’d take breaks in between, but soon Mark was eating you out or fingering you until your nails dug into his back and you cried out his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He wasn’t letting up on his promise to make you his, as each orgasm was intense and left you feeling dizzy. He was unlike any partner you had, making sure to care for your needs more than he did for his. He never even asked that you kiss him anywhere else but his mouth. 

Mark releases your throat and lays on top of your sweaty body as you both climax one last time.

“You really aren’t leaving, are you?”

“I meant what I said. You’re mine.”

A brief moment of silence rests between the two of you as you massage his scalp.

“I mean, I can leave if you want me to..”

He looks up at you with round, doe eyes and your heart breaks.

“No—no..stay..” Sleep takes you over suddenly.

He watches your cute face and smiles. “Mind if I wake you up in the best way possible?” 

You chuckle with your eyes closed.

“And how will you do that?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see..”

He lays back down and falls asleep on your chest.

———

[The Next Morning]

It’s the afternoon of the next day when Mark wakes up before you do and finds his cock engulfed in your pussy still.

He swallows hard, immediately feeling himself grow when he sees your eyes closed as you pout your lips and breathe heavily.

“Y/n..” He whispers, but your eyes don’t open yet.

“Y/n..” He says once more, this time he picks himself up and cages you in between his arms as he holds himself up above your head.

He kisses your forehead. “Wake up, Princess.”

He then buries his head into the crook of your neck and fondles your breast. 

He couldn’t hold back much longer, but he wanted you to be awake first. He lays sloppy kisses onto your shoulder before biting it.

“Mmm..Mark..” You say drowsily.

And with the sound of your soft voice and the feeling of your delicate fingers on his waist, Mark begins to thrust into you.

Your eyes are still closed as he fucks you into consciousness, the post-dream haze combined with his kisses and long thrusts makes you feel light headed.

“How does it feel, baby?”

He moves in and out of you while panting.

You mumble something while enjoying the warmth of his pulsing body on yours. He presses his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles. 

“Mm..faster, baby.” you mumble as your heat grows, your eyes closed while you enjoy your realistic dream.

He then intertwines his fingers with yours, and moves into you faster. Within just a few minutes he cums hard as you shake around him.

And it’s not until he pulls out of you and flips onto his back that he realizes there’s another man in the room.

At the edge of the bed stands a tall handsome man with black hair. He stares sternly onto your body with his hands in the pockets of his suit jacket.

“Oh shit!” Mark is frightened and quickly drapes the blanket over you.

“Who the hell are you?” He asks.

You finally pry your eyes open and scratch your head.

“It’s me...y/n.”

“N-no no I mean..who is that and why is he just staring? Dude.. what the hell?!”

“What?” You rub your eyes and look up. And as your eyes focus you see that sure enough it was your Tuesday client, Jaehyun, staring intensely at you.

“Oh fuck..” You struggle to sit up straight in the bed. “Jaehyun..I’m so sorry, I overslept and-and..”

���Shhh..it’s okay, y/n..” His voice is sweet, but his face says the opposite.

“I see someone has gotten quite greedy with you..”

You turn to Mark, and it all comes back to you. He said he would stay over and you knew the risk you were taking, but you allowed him to anyway.

“Do you want me to push the emergency button?” Jaehyun asks smoothly.

“N-no! That won’t be necessary, I let him stay over actually..”

Your face becomes warm, it feels like you were caught by a parent with your boyfriend.

“I didn’t hear my phone go off with the alert saying you’d be coming over, I’m so sorry but he can leave and I’ll get cleaned up and we can start, just give me a few minutes—“

You start to get off the bed, but Jaehyun raises his hand.

“It’s okay, y/n..I know you see other men, that’s your job, isn’t it?” Jaehyun smirks.

He was one of those clients whose calm demeanor was difficult to read. He was intimidating and made you feel like you were up for terrible punishment at any moment. You never seemed to answer his questions to his satisfaction. In part to his recent divorce, he was rough, unforgiving, a stark contrast to Mark who just sat there awkwardly on the bed.

You nod slowly.

His gaze turns to Mark, his hands still in his pockets. “Was my slut good for you?”

“My?” Hold on..she doesn’t belong to you and no, she’s not a slut..”

Without moving his eyes, Jaehyun calls out to you. “Y/n...remove the blanket and open your legs for me..”

You immediately do as he says, but Mark stops you by holding your wrist. “Hey, you don’t have to do that.”

“It’s okay, Mark. This is what I do, please don’t forget that.” You give him a small smile as you lift the blanket.

You bend your knees while widening your legs.

You can feel the cool air hit your moist entrance.

“Now look at her, Mark...look at how much cum is in her beautiful pussy..only a slut can look like that..”

“Oh fuck off..”

“No, YOU fuck off, you’re cutting into my time..or don’t..”

Jaehyun loosens his tie and takes his jacket off.

“As a matter of fact, let’s see how much prettier she looks when she’s filled up with both of us, what do you say Mark?”

Mark begins to panic and turns to you. 

“What..“

“Stay...I want to make you feel good too..” you say, knowing that Jaehyun’s proposal wasn’t really a question. He was going to find some way to make Mark stay, it was his way of punishing both him and you.

“Good girl..” Jaehyun zips his pants down, revealing his already hard member. He grew when he watched Mark fuck you out of your sleep. He wanted to do that badly, but understood long ago the rules for this agreement. One of them being “no overnight stays.” But Mark clearly didn’t respect this. Maybe he thought you were his, but surely he was wrong.

Jaehyun wanted you just as badly as he did, and he wouldn’t stop until you were his.

“On your stomach, sweetheart, show him what your mouth can do..”

“Yes, sir.” You’re still weak from the night before but do as you’re told.

“Y/n..you don’t have to..” Mark caresses your face with his thumb.

“I know..but I want to..”

“She wants to please us..isn’t that right, slut?” Jaehyun brings an arm under your stomach to bring your ass up towards him.

“Y-yes, sir.” You struggle to get out once you feel his cock rub against your thigh.

You start by wrapping your hand around Mark’s semi-flaccid length, you pump it up and down while twisting. He groans and sits up straight.

Jaehyun enters you from behind, gripping your hip tightly as he pushes into you hard.

You moan loudly as his long cock stretches you out without warning.

“Ahh..fuck.” You gasp.

He slaps your ass hard, you stumble slightly on your knees but Mark helps you stay up.

“Don't be like that, sweetheart, I see how wet you are. Now, open your fucking mouth.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” You whimper then lick Mark’s tip.

“You’re just a slut with cum leaking out of you all the time, you’re always ready, aren’t you?”

You kiss Mark’s tip then answer Jaehyun. “Yes, sir.”

He hums and slaps your ass again.

He rubs his hand over the area to feel it become warm.

He then pulls back and watches his veiny cock glisten with cum.

Meanwhile, you take half of Mark’s length into your mouth and begin to suck, rubbing the tip on the inside of your cheek as you listen to him groan.

Jaehyun buries himself deep inside you again, pushing past your vibrating entrance and deep into your walls where he feels his cock be greeted with that ticklish spot.

You move your head lower and allow spit to coat Mark’s entire length.

“God..that feels good.” He moans as his head falls back.

You suck harder and continue to twist your hand around his base.

You hum to push him along with vibrations.

The sounds of Jaehyun’s hips slapping against your ass gets louder as he glides in faster.

“Her pussy gets wetter and wetter, tsk tsk what a slut.” 

He pushes harder, bending over your back so his abs rest against it. He grabs your hair and pushes your head down onto Mark faster.

You gag and tears escape your eyes as Mark’s length hits the back of your throat repeatedly.

You gag over and over, causing the two men to become even hotter than they were before.

“That’s it, sweetheart, cry for me..”

And you did cry as your throat became irritated and your pussy was being destroyed from the back, Jaehyun stretched it out more than he ever did, but you didn’t want to stop. 

You felt like you were being undone, like you wouldn’t be able to talk or walk after, but it didn’t matter, just as long as you pleased these two men.

Jaehyun’s hand finds your clit, slapping against it before rubbing circles onto it.

You moan loudly, sending a delicious vibration onto Mark. He whimpers and pulls out of your mouth, before watching spurts of white leave his tip and decorate your mouth and tongue.

Your mouth stays open as Jaehyun pulls your head back towards him now. Your breasts jump forward and back as Mark pants and watches you be brought to paradise by another man.

“Sir..I’m going to..”

Jaehyun grunts. “You don’t deserve to cum, but I’ll let you because you’re a needy slut.”

And with that, you quiver around Jaehyun, gripping the pillows and shaking uncontrollably.

Mark feels himself becomes aroused yet again from the sight.

Jaehyun pulls out quickly and sits against the headboard. He picks your body up and puts you over his lap, but doesn’t push his cock into you yet.

“Mark..I think you should return the favor.” Jaehyun says as he grabs the crook of your knees with each hand opens you up.

Mark gladly agrees and puts his head in between your legs once more. He licks up your essence and begins to eat you out, nuzzling his nose against your clit as you cry out. 

Jaehyun takes your chin and turns your fucked out face towards his while you struggle to close your legs. 

“S-sir..please, it’s too much.”

Jaehyun shakes his head. “Nothing is too much for a whore like you..Mark loves your pussy, and so do I.”

He kisses your shoulder as a strand of hair dangles in his forehead.

He flicks your nipples with his fingers, watching as you fall apart in his arms.

Mark’s head moves from side to side as he licks your bud and pushes as hard as he can.

“Look at you..open wide for two men.”

Jaehyun whispers into your ear as you tremble. “We won’t stop until we’ve both put a baby in you...but you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes..fuck..yes..sir.”

Soon, you’re cumming again and seeing stars.

Mark pulls away and wipes his mouth, watching as your wetness ruins the sheets below you.

“Do you think she can take us both?” Jaehyun still plays with your hard nipples.

Mark chuckles. “I’m not really into sharing..but we should find out.” He caresses your face again as your mouth falls open.

He puts his thumb into it, watching as you suck it hard with your teary eyes wide.

Jaehyun lifts you up slightly so he can enter you again.

You fall onto him easily but whimper as you try to overcome your sensitivity.

Jaehyun forces you open wide with his hands on your knees, your feet dig into the bed as you bounce up and down on him. His touch sends electricity through your veins. 

Mark holds his cock in his own hand, stroking it while watching you fall onto Jaehyun’s length.

Your beautiful entrance is soaked and he just wants to feel it too.

Jaehyun looks into Mark’s hungry eyes and lets out a low growl.

“Go on, Mark. Fuck her like the needy whore she is.”

Jaehyun scoots down on the bed more so he is laying under you. Mark lays down over you and guides his tip along your slit.

“Mark..” you cry out while Jaehyun thrusts into you from below.

“Are you sure?” He licks his lips.

You nod and take his length into your own hand. “Yes..”

You push him into you slowly as Jaehyun pauses his movement. Your head falls back as your pussy is stretched out once more. You’d never done this before, but then again, you’d never been with two men.

“Shit...” you close your eyes tightly as both men fill you up.

Jaehyun sits up, holding you in his arms as he guides you up and down both his and Mark’s cocks now. 

You’re so right and Mark is embarrassed to admit that he is just moments from climaxing already, the friction of two cocks against your tight silky walls driving all of you crazy.

“Mmm..sweetheart, you’re doing so well..”

Jaehyun whispers. His tone is gravelly and he is just moments away also, sweat pricking at his forehead as you glide onto him.

The sound of skin against skin and loud moans and groans fills the room, you wonder if your neighbors will make a complaint. But right now, in this moment of complete ecstasy, you could care less.

Jaehyun’s tip twitches, vibrating against Mark’s and hitting your g-spot. You all come undone within seconds and experience an orgasm that lasts for what feels like an eternity.

All three of you collapse onto the bed, and you and Jaehyun fall asleep soon after. You should’ve cleaned yourself up, but your body aches and feels weak after orgasming so many times.

After 20 minutes of just watching you sleep, Mark gets up from the bed and goes to your bathroom. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans you up gently while watching you snore lightly.

Jaehyun’s back is turned to you so he can’t see Mark taking care of you by cleaning your exhausted body.

Before he leaves, he drapes your blanket over you and kisses your forehead. He also leaves a bouquet of flowers that he bought from someone selling them just outside of your apartment building. He went back to your apartment just to leave them there for you when you woke up. But really, he just wanted one last chance to see your beautiful face as you slept peacefully.

You wake up hours later to find yourself alone once again. You hop out of bed but soon remember what happened based on the aching feeling in your legs.

You’re happy to see that you're clean however, the sticky feeling of cum no longer being all over you. Someone must���ve cleaned you up, you thought to yourself.

With a limp, you walk out to your kitchen and see take-out food on your counter with a note attached, beside it you also see a bouquet of flowers. 

“Thanks for today, see you next week. Love, J.”

Jaehyun left you food, flowers, and cleaned you up before he left. Maybe he did care for you after all. This is what you thought as you smiled to yourself.

[1kook]

dreamy

—pjm x (f) reader

summary; You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. warnings; ANGST lol, fwb, reader is very :(( rating; mature (18+) bc tiny smut lol  misc; small smut scene, a happy ending <3 wc; 2.5k

notes; i have to post on #JIMIN’s bday or else i cannot live with myself anyway here’s me trying to fit an entire novella plot line in less than 5k words clap for me except maybe don't bc its not proofread anyway hbd jimin <3

Jimin is a nice guy, but you doubt he’d make a nice boyfriend. He fucks you hard and fast, just as you like, but hardly goes out of his way to sprinkle in any other requests. He’s got a one track mind, doesn’t dwell too long on what you say or how you’re feeling. Doesn’t matter because he’s just supposed to be a fuck buddy, the hot guy you met at a party, so you don’t let it phase you. But, well. Jimin is dreamy.

Sometimes he holds your hand while he eats you out and it sends your thoughts into a frenzy, makes your heart pound a little too fast to brush it off as just arousal. He’s got this gorgeous smile, plush lips framing pearly teeth, and when he flashes it your way, it makes your knees weak. Tells you you’re pretty when he picks you up from class, always holds your hand on the way to his place for your routine fuck. Cute and nice like an angel, but just like an angel, he hardly gives a shit about anyone’s feelings but his own.

He laughs when you ask him to hang out that weekend.

“What, like a date?” he snorts, bare chest glistening from his post-fuck exertion. You're pressed against his side now, circling his pretty brown nipple with your finger. “That’s corny.”

You try to not let it get to you, but Jimin is so cool and you want him to be your boyfriend so bad. “Yeah, silly right,” you murmur, ear pressed to his heart. It’s calming and soothing, a slow thrum that contrasts with your own racing heart.

He’s not one for dates or for romantic things like that. But neither is he some player, a cheater, a two-timer. You can count the number of times he’s slept with someone who wasn’t you in your weird fuck buddy relationship, and all four of those had been when you first started sleeping together and only when you had been out of town. You’re no saint either, so you try to understand. He was just horny, liked getting his dick wet, and sometimes he couldn’t wait for you. Understandable, you tell yourself, but your heart hurts a little bit when he begins snoring without really answering your question.

See the thing is, you really like Jimin. It’s been a little over a year now since you’ve met, so you’ve had plenty of time to learn all about him. He doesn’t like pancakes for breakfast, prefers them for lunch actually, and laughs when you tell him that’s weird. He’s got this really dorky laugh, something between a bell and a whistle— it depends on the situation. Sometimes, Jimin likes when you play with his hair, and other times he doesn’t. He’s a sweet boy, you know he is, so why won’t he settle down?

You hate to attribute it to some past trauma, some “my girlfriend broke my heart when I was seventeen” mess, but the more time that passes you begin to believe it’s true. Jimin was a tough nut to crack, and the longer this drags on, the longer he ignores your feelings, you begin to doubt you will ever see them fulfilled.

Maybe you should end this now before it’s too late.

You don’t stay for breakfast the next morning, simply kiss him goodbye at the door like always. He’s older than you, about two years, so he doesn’t go to school anymore, just chills at home all weekend. “I’ll see you soon?” he grins, low-lidded eyes tracking the movement of your mouth as you bid him adieu. You never give him a solid response, figure a guy like Jimin will forget about you soon enough.

Then, suddenly, it’s been two weeks and he doesn’t reach out. Yeah it hurts, but it’s better than having confessed to him and losing him all at once. You’d rather this ending than the one where he terribly rejects you, breaks your heart into a million pieces, and throws you away. Still, it hurts.

Jimin was so cool. He was smart and confident, had a snappy sort of attitude that he liked to use now and then. He could be mean in bed, lick your cunt until you cried and call you a stupid girl when he wanted to. But that same tongue had snapped at a guy who was trying to pressure you into bed with him at a party. That first night you met, where you had sillily followed him home after his dashing intervention, you had thought it would be nothing more. Just a fling, just a fuck.

But then he was in your bed and in your head, twinkling eyes and cocky grin trailing after you everyday. He was so pretty and so suave, made you feel good even when he was being mean. But you suppose most cocky men like Jimin are like that. They know they don’t disappoint, even when they’re not really trying.

Jimin doesn’t call or text. You don’t see his car pull up outside your campus anymore. He’s gone and that’s that. You cry a little (see: a lot) and pretend you’re over him. You definitely don’t think about his soft laughter or his hands on your chest. Nope.

So that ends.

Or so you think.

Your friends say you’re mopey and sad, too down for someone who wasn’t even your boyfriend. It’s true, which sucks, but they honor your admittance by taking you out to a bar that night. It’s supposed to be chill and relaxing, just some drinks with the girls to soothe your aching heart. But the name of the bar reminds you of something, of someone you can’t reach anymore, and you don’t even know why. You’ve never been here before, never even knew this place existed. But everything about it brings you back to Jimin, like you’re in his space now, and you’re unsure why.

It reminds you of his laugh, his smile, to the point you swear you can hear it, right beside you, down the bar, to your left—

He waves.

There’s this look he used to give you every time he picked you up from your last class, this mix between adoration and lust that made your skin tingle with excitement. It’s not there now, in fact, it’s replaced with the complete opposite. It’s, like, the meanest look he can muster, something akin to a scowl. He smiles, but it’s so plastic-y and fake, it makes your head hurt. He’s so obviously unimpressed with you, probably because you ghosted him before he could ghost you. Maybe his pride is hurt and looking at you grosses him out. Maybe he just hates you.

Either way, eleven pm rolls around and you’re crying in the bathroom. Your friends are out on the floor having fun and singing karaoke. They think you’ve gone inside because you got your period, because that’s what you’ve told them. You don’t know how to explain that your ex who isn’t really your ex is out there looking at you like you’re a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. They’ve never even met Jimin. Why? Because he wasn’t your boyfriend. Who meets their friend’s fuck buddy? No one.

You sniffle, press a balled up tissue against your eyes in a feeble attempt to save your makeup. The bar isn’t that small, but neither is it huge. There’s only a few bathrooms in the back, and you’ve been hogging one of them for some time now. Someone knocks on the door, and you don’t even get the chance to ward them off before the crappy knob jingles and the door bursts open.

“Come on,” he grumbles, “you’re not the only one who’s gotta piss—“

He pauses, meets your eye through the mirror in surprise. “I’m sorry,” you blubber, hurriedly washing your hands in an effort to avoid his gaze. Jimin lingers at the door, which has long since fallen shut, and watches you with the eyes of a hawk. Your hands tremble and shake, fumble over the towel dispenser three times before you’re hastily making your escape. “Sorry,” you mutter again, head downcast as you move around him for the door.

Just as it cracks open, the music from outside filtering in, he slams it shut with a flat palm. You flinch, close in on yourself as he steps behind you. “What’re you doing here, doll?” he murmurs, deep yet careful. Tentative. “You don’t like bars.”

You know you don’t like bars. You didn’t know he knew that. “I’m with some friends,” you explain, jump when a hand touches your shoulder. “I— I’ll leave soon.”

A second attempt for the door is thwarted by Jimin. “Don’t,” he startles, breath heavy against your ear. “Don’t leave again…” he sighs, forehead against your shoulder. And then, quietly, “why did you leave me?”

Your heart syncs up with the music outside, thunders in your ears as you purse your lips. You don’t want to talk about it now, don’t want to confess to these emotions that drown you. Especially not when he’ll never understand nor will he ever care. It’s best to leave it as is, you convince yourself, slowly shrugging him off.

“We don’t want the same things,” you reply, eyes burning with the need to cry like a baby. But it’ll weaken your argument, make you look like the sentimental girl you know he won’t like. “It wouldn’t work anyway.”

The hand on your shoulder jerks you around, makes a gasp catch in your throat when he crowds you against the door. He’s got that same glare on from before, the one he had sent you across the bar earlier, and it makes your lower lip tremble when it’s this close. “You never asked me what I wanted,” he hisses.

It is then that you realize it isn't anger or disgust, but frustration that paints his features. It’s pure, unadulterated confusion and distress on his pretty face, furrowed brows and narrowed eyes pointed your way. You don’t know what it means, don’t know what he wants. “I,” you choke, weakly covering your face with your hand before he can see you crumble. “I just wanted you.”

Jimin deflates, steps closer until his body is pressed against yours, hands on your shoulders. “And you have me, doll,” he murmurs, bumps his nose against yours. “Always have.”

You shake your head, choke on a sob that bubbles up your throat. “No, not like that,” you stress, losing yourself in the emotions you spent so much time bottling up. “I wanted more.”

Jimin shushes you, guides your head into the crook of his neck where you paint his skin in dark mascara tears. “Is this about the date?” he sighs, patting your head gently.

“It’s more than just the date,” you cry, fists curling into the material of his shirt until it rumples beyond repair. He doesn’t understand.

Jimin nods, let’s you cry and sob until you’re feeling better and someone else is pounding at the door, yelling at you two to get a proper room. You don’t want a room, you only want his heart. 

He takes you home again, helps you out of your shoes at the door because you’re still sensitive and quiver like a leaf when you walk. His bedroom is familiar, smells like him and his detergent. You miss it so much, want to savor it once more. Something in your gut says this is the last time, this is just Jimin getting one last fuck out of you before he really abandons you.

So you cry when he sits down on the edge of the bed. He hasn’t even said anything, hasn’t even taken his socks off yet, but you’re already a mess.

And of course he’s there to catch you, tugs you between his legs to look up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, reaching up to brush away your tears. But it’s not your fault that he looks like that right before he’s going to break your heart.

He’s so cool, even when you’re falling apart in his hands. “You don’t want me,” you sniffle, let him guide you onto his lap. “You just want to fuck and that’s it.”

Jimin leans his forehead against yours, warm breath washing over your skin. “I never said that,” he murmurs. “We’ve been over this.”

You huff. “Well you never said you did either,” you snap, rubbing at your eyes.

You cry and cry some more, until your sobs subside and you’re left with the hiccups afterwards. Jimin maneuvers you beside him, lets your hair spill across the sheets as he lays you down. They smell just like him, make your head spin when he kisses your cheek softly. “I want you,” he confesses. “I want this.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, you don’t,” you sniff, but you’re not so sure. It’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the longest. Hearing him say otherwise sounds weird, even if he’s saying what you want to hear. “You don’t.”

Jimin catches your hand in his, pins it to the mattress. “I want you to be mine,” he adds, swallows your cries of denial with his lips. He kisses softly, and for the first time, it feels like he’s paying attention to you. Not your body or your lust, but your heart. “Had me feeling like shit when you didn’t come back. Like I lost something big.”

You still cry when he kisses down your neck, over your chest. His hands pull your clothes off, carefully like you’re a present for him to unwrap. Those plush lips you love so much drown you in kisses, over your tummy and your mound, until they’re buried between your cunt. “You’re mine,” he husks out, hand entwined with yours.

His eyes are dark from down there, long lashes blinking up at you as he dips his tongue in the places you crave him most. It brings you to a shuddering end, has you whimpering his name into the empty air until your toes are curling and you’re coming against his mouth. Jimin has never shied away from you, and doesn’t know, sits up with a hazy look in his eyes as he wipes his face with the back of his hand.

Jimin wastes no time undressing, pushes off that sexy jacket until his lithe body is coming into view, thick thighs and lean abdomen. He slides right into you, holds your knees to your chest as he fucks you like never before. It’s slow and sensual, makes you shiver when he says your name in that low register of his. “Don’t leave again,” he whimpers, cock throbbing between your walls. He’s desperate today, ruts like you’ll slip right between his fingertips. It’s funny because you're the same way, clinging onto his shoulders until you’re practically glued together.

You come and so does Jimin. He pants against your ear, feels so warm and heavy on top of you. He doesn’t say much more that night, just plays with your hair. But he asks you on a date, mentions something about a carnival. “Yes,” you respond right away, because, well.

Jimin was dreamy. Maybe he’d be a good boyfriend.

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[plounce]

what if gay CATS........... were gay PERSONS

(info on this au under the cut)

theyre all shitty young adults just kind of. getting through their early 20s as best they can. or as much as they can. maybe things will get better someday, but right now they’re kind of spinning their wheels

magic exists but like eh it’s not a big thing don’t worry about it. it’s around but like whatever. not many people have it and it’s mostly just like. a curiosity or a party trick

demeter and bombularina are together, tugger and mistoffelees are together, bombularina and tugger occasionally fwb, it’s cool and aboveboard and it’s all fine

demeter:

bisexual with a preference for women. 24 years old

semi-psychic (not as powerful as tantomile or coricopat). tends to have vague and confusing prophetic dreams

dropped out of grad school for sociology due to trauma and ensuing intensified mental illness. kind of bitter about it, but tries to get through every day. general anxiety disorder even before all that

very nervous around most men she doesn’t know & trust

currently working at a barnes & noble starbucks, which sucks. she recently became the assistant manager, which turbo sucks because now she has more work for only like a buck raise, but at least she’s getting reliable shifts

her go-to therapy is cutting her hair with scissors. her hair is fried to all hell from regular bleaching

she’s learning how to crochet because she’s decided she needs to do something physically productively creative with her hands to distract herself from Stuff

bombalurina:

bisexual. 24 years old

got her bachelor’s in english two years ago and hasn’t found a job in her field and has kind of given up on it for now

she’s been bartending for like four years, does freelance editing work on the side. will occasionally write listicles for clickbait sites if she needs extra cash

literally any extra money she can save goes to tattoos. her right sleeve’s almost done

has natural red hair but dyes it cherry red

a hedonist to cope but is also just a natural hedonist. likes a good bath

i know that like the typical thing fandoms say about female characters is “doesn’t take shit” for the girlboss points but she truly does not take shit anymore. she used to take people’s shit sometimes but at this point in her life she’s tired and she has a girlfriend to be protective of. she has a couple people whose shit she will take (mostly just tugger) but besides them (and having to practice basic customer service to keep her job) she’s tired of other people’s shit! enough!

my personal take on bombalurina is a mix between the riot grrrls of the 90s and 80s punk girls, and then a dash of the greaser chicks from grease. i saw that spiked collar and my brain went OH okay i can run with this somewhere fun. same for demeter, but less so - she just has the piercings.

demelurina:

bombalurina met demeter in college at a women’s activism club, noticed her because of her dimple piercings and was like “oh someone else with a lot of metal in her face, i’ll sit next to her”

they were each other’s first off-campus roommates and were close friends. made out a couple times, but it was mostly a lot of sexual tension. there was a lot of bombalurina staring at demeter while she or demeter made out with someone else

demeter was on and off with her high school boyfriend munkustrap and bombalurina was like “oh he’s so much more stable/calm than me and she needs that, i party a bit too much for her, i shouldn’t try anything” so she just sort of. lets their almost-there peter off

(this is all bombalurina’s internal thoughts - demeter always was interested in her, but thought she was too boring for bombalurina. so neither of them thought they could pursue it)

bombalurina graduated and moved somewhere cheaper further away from campus. they kind of drift apart

munkustrap and demeter peter off and he moves away for a job (they’re still good friends, it was a very amicable breakup) and then demeter gets with macavity, which is a deeply toxic situation for her and sucks hugely and throws her whole life really off track. won’t go into further details

she finally manages to break up with him and calls bombalurina at like 2 am asking if she can pick her up, and also if she can sleep on her couch, it’s okay if that’s not okay, she just. really needs a place she feels safe, and her gut is telling her to. and of course bombalurina says yes

bombalurina also knew macavity and had also made out a couple times with him at like parties and stuff (see: staring at demeter as she makes out with people). something about transference of feelings - bombalurina was into him for a couple moments because he and demeter had a thing.

this is due to me interpreting the song “macavity” as actually about bombalurina wanting to fuck demeter and her singing as a half-repressed expression of that. i use my really good wlw brain to reach that conclusion. it’s kind of a non-competitive version of eve sedgwick’s take on the love triangle. (<-- normal thing to say)

but anyway demeter stays on bombalurina’s couch and she tries so hard to stay on track but eventually she just has to drop out. bombalurina helps her with that too. she’s just really supportive even as demeter’s life is at its lowest point. when she gets home from bartending she gets demeter to go to sleep

she just Stays with her and makes her smile and reminds her that her life isn’t over, there’s still things in her day to enjoy, to keep her trudging forward

bombalurina is roommates with tugger at this point - he also recently dropped out and demeter knows him because he’s munkustrap’s brother, so he’s Trusted and also is like “hey it’s okay that you dropped out, im here and im chilling and you like me and respect me at least a little, and you have a bachelor’s degree at least!” (more on him later)

demeter is like “oh god ive been crashing at their place for so long not paying rent, theyre gonna ask me to leave, im such a freeloader, they wont take my attempts at paying rent” but then bombalurina and tugger are like “hey! the lease is almost up! we found a pretty good 3 bedroom, do you wanna have your own room for real?” and she nearly cries because 1. the RELIEF 2. oh my god you want me around???

cut to bombalurina helping demeter put together an ikea dresser (tugger got banished to the kitchen to make crystal light lemonade for them because he’s useless with a screwdriver) and demeter has two epiphanies:

1. i thought i was ready to d*e four months ago and here i am making a dresser to put clothes into in my new apartment where i live and feel safe and loved. im still not happy but im still alive and im making a dresser

2. holy fuck im back in love with my best friend, and ten times more than i was back then.

so she like kind of freaks out because she’s already imposed so much on bombalurina, how could she impose her FEELINGS on her like this, oh no oh no oh no

meanwhile bombalurina’s back in love with her even MORE and she’s also like no... she’s already dealing with so much... i don’t want to make her uncomfortable or feel unsafe in her own home especially after her recent relationship trauma... i just want her to feel safe around me...

you might think tugger as their roommate would be like “JUST KISS” but he is in fact pretty oblivious because he is self-absorbed. mistoffelees on the other hand..

eventually they do have a big confession of feelings after demeter has a bad day and it’s very dramatic and they make out in the rain. and it’s like. well this is a movie scene. but also im cold and damp. let’s head inside our home and get warm and dry :)

and then they go inside and and talk through everything, all their feelings (not just their romantic feelings but like ALL their feelings) and their shared histories and bombalurina is like “do you think you’re... ready for a relationship right now? like that would be a good thing for you?”

and demeter considers it. she does stop and think. and then she says, “with anyone else... probably not. but it’s you. and i feel so safe around you, and we’re already so close. you make the future feel more worth it. you make more days alive feel not just tolerable, but something to look forward to. and knowing you’ve loved me all this time... it’s nice. it’s good. i’m - i’m understating it so much, it’s more than nice, it’s just - it’s a lot. i wish i had noticed back then.” “hey, hey, don’t blame yourself. i’m the one who never said anything.”

anyway. everything works out, and they start dating for real :)

tugger:

bisexual. 22 years old

dishwasher at the same bar bombalurina works at. she got him the job. he keeps bugging her to teach him bartending tricks and on slow nights she will agree to

he dropped out of their four year, but he managed to secure an associate’s in communications before he dipped

trying to be an ig influencer hotboy and hopefully get modeling jobs from that but his phone’s camera sucks shit so his account isn’t really going anywhere. but he continues to post his low resolution shirtless selfies

trying to cope with being the failure son who does not have a fancy nonprofit job with a salary and healthcare by being self-absorbed and self-aggrandizing

it works about 60% of the time and 60% of the times that it doesn’t he’s able to hide it

he dropped out right around when bombalurina graduated and he was like HEY! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A ROOMMATE WHO DOESN’T CARE IF WE LIVE TEN MILES AWAY FROM CAMPUS? WELL HAVE I GOT A SOLUTION FOR YOU: ME!

to which bombalurina (who has fooled around with him here and there and thinks he is funny little man and genuinely goodhearted, and also he has rockin abs as a plus) says munkustrap already asked me if i need a roommate and if i do to consider you, because you don’t want to move back home. in other words: yes, you little idiot

they do fool around with each other but they are both very understanding that it is strictly platonic and for fun, especially once they become roommates. they both do not desire each other for anything serious

he did have a bit of a crush on each other when they met (hot punk older girl who’s friends with his brother) but 1. it dissipated pretty quick after they fooled around for the first time because it was not a very serious crush 2. she was in the middle of being in love with demeter so she was focused on that, emotionally

he got his ears pierced a couple times in high school but bombalurina inspired him to get a couple more. she went with him when he got his nose pierced

demeter has always understood that him and bombalurina are strictly fwb, has never been an issue.

she and him like to bleach their hair together when their hair schedules line up (he bleaches his way less often then she does), but she refuses to use his fancy conditioner that keeps his hair unfried because it’s expensive, even though he tells her to go ahead and use it, please, the health of her hair is giving HIM anxiety, demeter please. please demeter

mistoffelees:

gay. 20 years old

has magic. it’s pretty good magic but again: magic is not a big deal in this concept

a bit spooky. skulks around. a bit of a bitch but also very very nice. chooses when to speak

he has postings on craigslist and fiverr about finding lost objects and people with magic. like a gig economy private detective

side job is a waiter at a fancy restaurant

sometimes he gets paid VERY well from the private detecting, depending on the client. he does ask his psychic friends (tantomile & coricopat) to give a quick glance over on some of the more suspicious clients just to make sure he isn’t finding someone who should not be found by that person.

doesn’t go to college. is roommates with his sister victoria, who’s a freshman and studying dance. moved into town with her so she wouldn’t have to live in the dorms by having a guaranteed roommate.

tuggoffelees:

the general vibe i want for these two is mistoffelees walking around town or driving around in his shitty toyota camry while tugger tags along because he’s bored and thinks this is cool as shit

the general tone of the au is “magic isn’t a big deal” except for tugger, who thinks mistoffelees’ magic and his magic freelancing is the coolest shit ever. this is mostly because he just likes mistoffelees. “there are people who can do cooler shit than me, tug” “yeah but i don’t KNOW them also theyre not as COOL as you” “you had to explain to me how instagram reels work”

idk how they met i just think tugger shows up at his and bombalurina’s apartment one day (this is when demeter has moved in but they havent moved to the 3br yet) with this dude to dash in and pick something up and bombalurina is like “uh. who’s this” “oh this is mistoffelees he’s SO GOOD AT MAGIC” [mistoffelees nods hello] “okay bye bombalurina see you at work!!!” “uh. later”

after that he just shows up a lot. sort of ambiguous if theyre dating or what for a while before bombalurina straight up asks like “hey does the dude you’re dating know we fool around” “the dude im - what?” “... the little magic guy who keeps using our hot cocoa mix. misty.” “oh. uh. we aren’t dating.” “... do you want to? because you’re kind of all over him constantly” “um. well! haha, if i wanted to, i could! haha!” “yeah get back to me on that”

tugger trying to use his ig clout to get mistoffelees more work even though 1. he has no clout 2. mistoffelees has a very stable client base. but mistoffelees appreciates the effort. the self-promo guy promoing someone other than himself... the highest expression of love...

mistoffelees is A Nonthreatening Man plus he’s pretty obviously gay so demeter is chill around him pretty quickly. when mistoffelees is over they’ll sit on the couch where demeter sleeps and watch documentaries quietly while she crochets

they both occasionally say spooky shit at the same time because magic stuff. bombalurina and tugger are both torn between “that was cool as fuck” and “god that’s unnerving”

just a lot of tugger following mistoffelees around on his jobs and mistoffelees letting him because he’s fond of him and them occasionally getting into minor peril and interesting shenanigans, but it is 90% fetch quests

i think the first time they met tugger was taking selfies in front of a hydrangea in a public park and he saw mistoffelees walk up with a shovel and start digging in one of the flower beds and he thought he was hot so he went over and offered to take over on the shoveling to look strong and masculine and he ended up digging up a skull, which mistoffelees picked up and said “thanks” and then walked away

mildly terrifying but also very interesting and tugger’s days are kind of boring and dishwashing kind of sucks as a job to do like every night and he is a person who thrives on novelty so. moth to a porchlight

i think they do start making out for fun here and there and then a while later theyre out on one of mistoffelees’ jobs and someone asks “who’s the guy with you” and mistoffelees replies “oh that’s my boyfriend, don’t worry about him” and then it’s like. “HUH? I’M YOUR BOYFRIEND?” “uh. yeah? i assumed. is that okay?” “i mean yeah of course i think you’re great! how long have we–” “oh like a while.” “oh. uh. cool!!”

they just hang out a lot. mistoffelees enjoys teasing him and enjoys his warmth and bombasticity and tugger likes watching and helping him solve little mysteries around the county because it’s always something new. they’re kind of a comedy duo. they just enjoy spending their time together and following mistoffelee’s internal magic gps to find lost dogs and lost necklaces

yeah right now this au is just vibes and just sort of. continuing forward with your days and your weeks and your months. just young adults hanging out

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[mypoisonedvine]

Dark!bucky not letting you cum for a week??? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

ohhhh lord... how did this go from headcanons to an entire ficlet????? oops

you’ve gotta fuck up BAD to earn this one

this is the sort of thing that requires more than one insurrection in a row, like making him jealous and then coming without permission

say you’re talking to sam one day and he makes you laugh and bucky is just watching you two talk.

you throw your head back with another overdramatic laugh at one of his stupid jokes and you put your hand on his arm for a second like you’re trying to feel his bicep.

if looks could kill you’d both be dead by bucky’s glare omllll he is pissed.

i think you need to remember who you belong to he growls at you as he pulls you back into his room and slams the door

you’re adamant that it was just a friendly conversation but he shuts you up by shoving his cock in your mouth.

if you want me to fuck you you’re gonna have to earn it.  if he’s just a friend then show me.  suck my cock like you understand that you’re mine.

you really do give him your best, twisting your spit-slick hand as you jerk off the parts of him you can’t reach with your mouth, doing nothing to suppress the gurgling noises of your throat.

you talk like an innocent little angel, but you suck cock like a whore.  which is it?

you don’t get a chance to answer because he pulls you up by your hair and tosses you onto the bed, pushing your dress up and slapping your ass

bite down on the pillow, baby.  if somebody out there hears you i swear i’ll blow a gasket.  only i get to hear you like this.

you nod and obey, and it proves important because he enters you with such brutal force that you nearly scream into the down as he takes you.

you wishin’ it was sam instead of me?  think he would treat you better?

you shake your head but he just spanks you again.

you’re clenching around me, sweetheart.  do you like when i get angry, is that it?

you’re just trying to apologize between whimpers and sobs and he isn’t having any of it

stop fucking whining and take my cock.  don’t act like i’m so awful, I know you can take it.  

it hurts but he’s right, you’ve endured worse.  the frustrating thing is that he knows exactly how much pleasure to mix with the pain to make you unable to stop yourself from barreling towards an orgasm.

you wanna come?  you better earn it.  you’re not gonna come until i’m convinced that you know your place

you’re babbling about how you belong to him and how you’d never even think about anybody else but he has this way of getting inside your head whenever he’s inside you-- makes sense, really, but it’s spooky sometimes.

i dont believe you baby, you’re going to have to be more convincing

you’re halfway into another string of incoherent begs when he realizes you’re about to come and suddenly pulls out, leaving you with no stimulation and clenching around nothing.

not yet, he hisses, smacking you on the ass.  not until im ready.  not until i tell you to.

and you really really try but you’ve never been good at holding yourself back, so when he fucks you again and his cock is pressing so perfectly against your g-spot and you can hear his sexy grunts and moans you start to lose it

you try to warn him but you’re so lost in it that it just comes out as nonsense

he pulls out to keep you from coming but it’s too late, you’re coming on nothing, your walls are flexing, a gush of wetness is leaking out of you and you’re just laying there on the bed coming without him.

did you just fuckin’ come? he growls and you’re done for.  

you get the spanking of a lifetime, all while he scolds you

you are such a goddamn slut for my cock, you need it so bad you come even after i’ve pulled out.  and now you’re getting wet from your punishment.  what am i going to do with you?

you assume it’s rhetorical but he pinches the raw skin where he’d just hit you and you realize he wants an answer

you’re going to give me whatever i deserve you tell him.  he smiles.

looks like you’re learning, slowly but surely. 

he decides that since you clearly need to learn some restraint when it comes to both other men and your orgasms, he thinks that a week without coming is the perfect punishment.

but as we know, you come so easily when he fucks you, being the filthy slut you are.

and it’s not fair to bucky that he should be punished too, not being able to fuck you just because you can’t keep it together

so he finds a few compromises

at first he just has you suck him off but he loves coming inside you too much to just come on your face or down your throat all week

plus, he thinks you like giving the blowjobs a little too much

so instead he jerks himself off, making you watch and loving how jealous you look that you can’t get your hands on him, and then just a few strokes before he’s gonna come, he sticks it in and pumps a few times before coating your walls

he makes you beg for it too, even though you both know you aren’t getting much out of it, only being able to feel him for a few seconds and then just being left there horny beyond all reason and full of come

he ends up fucking you, if you could really call it that, way more often than normal since it’s so brief and not very tiring for him

six, seven times a day he’s giving you his come and nothing else, and making you thank him for it every time

and you’re so goddamn horny that you can barely function.  you’re so sensitive that the slightest touch gets you riled up, and you’re so delirious that you can’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together or taking a little extra time when you wash yourself in the shower.

the result is that you end up edging yourself a hundred times a day and it just makes it so much worse

but no amount of crying or begging can convince him to end your punishment early.  in fact, when you try to appeal to his appetite and remind him how good it feels for him when you come while he’s inside you, you get another spanking and a night in a chastity belt since he no longer trusts you to stay good when you’re alone.

on the last day of the week, sam tries to talk to you again and you dash away so fast you could’ve left a cloud of smoke in your shape like a cartoon because you’re not about to throw this whole week away and start over just for a few stupid jokes

once you’ve survived your punishment and begged relentlessly to be allowed to come, bucky finally keeps his promise and lets you come every way he can.  fingers, mouth, cock, vibrators... he seems determined to make up for lost time and then some

you come so many times you lose all sense of time and space and he has to carry you to bed and let you sleep for a good 12 hours

you wake up the next morning to find a note from bucky saying he’s gone to lunch but you did so well and he’s so proud of you.  he promises to buy you something nice, and that you can wear it and remember how strong you are.  but you get the feeling he wants the gift to remind you of what he can do to you if you piss him off again

you’re excited when he gets back but then you realize he was at lunch with sam.  and both of them have this look in their eyes as you ask them how it was.

oh shit.  he’s up to something, isn’t he?

[honey-dewey]

Pepper Spray

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels/Reader

Word Count: 2,181

Warnings: None

The Statesman parking lot was the only thing you hated about your job. Mostly because it was dark as the night and terrifying even when you were clutching a weapon. Of course, when the time comes to use said weapon, you may or may not have accidentally used it on the wrong person. Oops.

 You loved your job. A well paying and not too hard job at the Statesman distillery and apparently, secrecy agent service. You mostly worked with the papers, filing and sorting and re-reading. It was hell on the feet and worse on the eyes, but you knew every inch of that building and all it’s goings on. It was truly an ideal job. 

However, the one and only thing you hated about your job was the parking lot. 

It was far away from the building, shrouded in darkness that the lights never touched. You’d put pepper spray on your keychain after a month of working at Statesman, and had hesitantly asked Ginger to make you a discreet weapon after you’d used your pepper spray once on a creep at a bar. She’d given you brass knuckles that you’d thankfully never had to use, but just knowing you could protect yourself was comfort enough. Even if you weren’t on Statesman property, the feeling of being protected was one you loved. 

Fridays were, of course, always hectic. Weekly mission reports were due on Friday, and between the fact checking and the grammar checks and the sorting away, you’d spent an hour extra at work. It wasn’t a bad thing though, as you got paid overtime and the bulk of the work was sorting away the new reports. However, your late night work antics meant that by the time you left the office, the parking lot was dead dark, and you clutched your pepper spray as you made your way to your car. 

Humming to yourself, just some annoying song one of your coworkers had been playing all day, you walked past the security booth leading into the parking lot. 

A noise behind you made you spin around, heart beating overly fast. The noise sounded distinctly like the security booth door opening. Your finger itched on the pepper spray trigger, getting ready. 

You continued towards your car, now on high alert. With the security Statesman had, you were fairly certain whoever was around wasn’t a huge threat to your safety, but you had to be certain. More than likely, it was just Tom, the security guard who usually sat in the booth. He left sometimes, to grab food or take a bathroom break. You took a breath, trying desperately to convince yourself it was just Tom. 

When you finally had your car in sight, you heard footsteps behind you, falling in line with yours. They were heavy, heavier than Tom’s, and they were regular, masked slightly by the sound of your own. Whoever was behind you was trying to hide their steps. Squaring your shoulders, heart beating loudly in your ears, you whirled around and immediately sprayed your pepper spray. There was no time to assess the threat, you just prayed your aim was true. 

It, thankfully, was. Your target, however, was not who you expected. 

“Whiskey?” 

Agent Whiskey, or Jack as he preferred around the office, was standing in front of you, his face and shirt bright orange as he attempted to process the fact that you’d just pepper sprayed him. 

“Oh my god!” You said, panicking as you realized what you’d just done. “I am so sorry!” 

Jack made a pained noise as the spray took its effect, and you immediately jumped into action. “C’mon,” you said, putting an arm around him. “I am so sorry,” you added again.

He didn’t respond. You sighed, slightly worried that this could be the end of your career. After all, you’d just pepper sprayed one of Statesman’s best agents. A mistake like that was pretty damn big. 

By the time you had him back in the building, Jack’s eyes were swollen shut and his face was soaking wet from the tears he was involuntarily crying. He couldn’t talk, so you simply busied yourself with setting him in a medical exam room and searching for what you needed. 

You’d gone through the paperwork on these rooms and their set up so many times that you knew every square inch of the space. And all the receipts for medical purchases went through you as well, meaning you also knew exactly what was stocked. 

Thankfully, Statesman had what you needed within reach, and it took you almost no time at all to find the nondescript bottle of saline solution and put it on the countertop. Along with that, you put on gloves, just to protect your hands. 

You carefully, while describing your actions so as not to send Jack into a panic, took his hat and jacket off and led him to the tiled corner of the room with the eye wash station. 

“I’m going to spray your face with this saline solution,” you said, uncapping the bottle. “It’s cold, but not super cold. It should help for when we flush the spray off your face with water.” As you explained, Jack shuffled on his feet, clearly eager to make the pain subside. 

“Three,” you said warningly, rolling the bottle back and forth in your hands, hoping you could warm the liquid a bit. 

“Two.” Jack tensed, although whether it was out of pain or anticipation, you had no idea. You could only hope it was anticipation. 

“One.” You sprayed the liquid all across Jack’s face, although it was more like splashing him with water from a cup. The saline solution dripped down his face and onto his shirt, mixing with the tears he’d shed. You put the bottle down, expertly guiding Jack over the eye wash station and turning it on. 

“Fifteen minutes,” you said, taking your gloves off and dumping them into the trash. “At least. After that, we’ll wait for your eyes to open and give you a rest period to let the burn subside, which could take a while, but should resolve itself in an hour or so.” 

Jack ended up needing a break around the eight minute mark, leaning back and taking multiple deep breaths, his eyes still shut and his throat still pretty much unusable. He rasped out a few words about his stained shirt, and you took the break in eye rinsing to help him take his shirt off and have him wash his hands. Once that was done, he went right back to the eye wash station to complete his time. 

Once Jack’s fifteen minutes were up, you helped him sit down and dry off, his eyes still swollen shut. Thankfully, his throat was starting to clear, and he was able to talk to you. 

“How in the hell?” He rasped. “I didn’t know you worked here in medical.” 

“I don’t.” You put the mostly empty saline bottle away, making a note on the whiteboard near the door that the room needed more. “I do the paperwork. I just happened to have to pull papers on an accident involving pepper spray today, and had to Google how to relieve the burn to fact check the papers. This room is familiar because I keep track of all the supplies and blueprints. Really, I just know a lot about everything that goes on in this building.” 

Jack took a breath. “Fuck.” 

You laughed. “Sure. Fuck.” 

Grabbing a few tissues, you carefully wiped away the residual tears and water off Jack’s face. His eyes blinked open, still red and swollen, but not too bad anymore. 

“Hey,” you said happily, glad to see his eyes open. “How’re you feeling?” 

“Like shit,” Jack muttered, raising a hand to rub his face, but you caught his wrist before he could. 

“Don’t rub,” you warned. “That’ll make it worse.” 

Jack nodded. “How long before the burn stops?” 

You shrugged, thinking back to the pepper spray paperwork. “An hour. But you probably won’t be fully recovered until tomorrow.” 

Sighing, Jack leaned back. “I guess we’re gonna be stuck here a while.” 

Eventually, you grabbed a washcloth and soaked it in cool water, laying it across Jack’s eyes. The swelling was, thankfully, going down, as was the redness. His eyes had finally stopped watering as well, meaning he was mostly able to see again. 

As Jack’s face got better, you two talked. Not about anything important, just simple things that could distract Jack. You learned he had a ranch, and he eagerly told you about his cow. 

“Her name is Bella,” he said, showing you a photo on his phone. You smiled. Bella was absolutely beautiful, with soft looking tan fur and big brown eyes. “She’s a highland cow, which is why she’s so fluffy.” 

“I didn’t know you had pets,” you said, sitting back and checking your watch. “Bella’s adorable.” 

Jack shrugged, putting his phone back into his pocket. “I inherited most of it from my brother,” he explained. “He died a while back, right as I joined Statesman. Mom always expected to get the ranch, but my brother said she didn’t have the heart for it. So he left it to me.” 

“Huh.” You stood, dusting yourself off. “Does your mother suck?” 

“Nah,” Jack responded. “She’s just not very motherly.” 

You laughed. “Well that explains it. We should probably get going, by the way. It’s getting late.” 

So you and Jack walked out to the parking lot, you silently fiddling with your keys. 

“Can I drive you home?” You blurted, watching Jack head off towards where the Bronco was parked. 

He stopped, turning back to you. “Pardon?” 

“I’m just worried your eyes aren’t up to scratch yet,” you elaborated, nervousness making you shuffle your feet. “And I’d feel better if I got to drive you home.” 

Jack shrugged. “Yeah. Sure.” 

As he got into your car, he looked around, impressed. “What kinda car is this?” 

“A mustang. Shelby Cobra to be specific.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Is it a ‘67?” 

“Yep.” You busied yourself with backing out, the old mechanics of the car a familiar comfort to you. 

“Huh.” Jack leaned back. “Impressive.” 

You smiled, waving to Tom, who was in the security booth. “Thank you. It was my dad’s, but he gave it to me because I helped him repair it when I was young. Where’s your house?” 

Jack put his address into his phone, putting it on the dash and maxing the volume so you could hear the directions. 

“So why’d you pepper spray me?” He asked eventually, breaking the silence. 

You snorted. “Why were you sneaking up on me in the middle of the night?” 

“I had a question.” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, making a turn. “What question?” 

Jack fiddled with his jacket zipper, seemingly nervous. “Just wanted to ask about my paperwork. Ginge needed to know when my last eye exam was, and she told me to find you.” 

You laughed. “It couldn’t have waited until tomorrow?” You asked. “Also, it was three years ago.” 

“How in the fuck?” 

“Champ needed your file yesterday so he could compare your sharpshooting record to one of the other agent’s scores,” you explained. “And on my way back down to the records room, I read it over. It’s a long walk and I needed some entertainment.”

Jack shook his head in disbelief, a small smile on his lips. “You are unbelievable.” 

You grinned, turning and pulling into Jack’s ranch. “I’m fairly certain being unbelievable is my job,” you pointed out, putting the car in park. 

As Jack opened the car door, you heard excited mooing and saw a dark figure racing over. 

“Bella!” Jack said eagerly, petting the cow the same way one would pet a dog. “Hey darlin’. How’s the ranch?” 

Bella mooed again, headbutting your car. 

You got out, coming around to scratch Bella’s ears. She butted into you too, sending you back a couple of steps. 

“Be nice,” Jack scolded playfully, shaking a finger at Bella. “This is a guest!” 

Bella mooed yet again and trotted off. 

“I’m sorry about her,” Jack said, turning to you. “She’s a people cow.” 

You merely shook your head, laughing. “It’s fine. By the way, is there any way I can make tonight up to you? I did kinda pepper spray you. Can I make that right somehow?” 

Jack chuckled, leaning on a fence post. “Come ‘round here again tomorrow at six. Wear something nice.” 

“Are you asking me out?” Of all the things you expected, this was not it. 

“Yeah,” Jack said. “What’d you say? Please keep in mind I was pepper sprayed an hour ago.” 

You snorted, getting back into your car and putting the window down. “It’s a date.” 

As you backed out of Jack’s ranch, he waved at you, and you waved back. 

Once you reached your own house, you fell onto your couch and eagerly texted Ginger, telling her about your upcoming date. Within seconds, she was calling you. 

“What?” You asked, giggling and heading into your kitchen for a glass of water. 

Ginger took a deep breath. “Did you just score a date with Jack goddamn Daniels?” 

“Yeah?” You said, leaning against your counter. “I mean, I kinda pepper sprayed him first, but yeah, I got a date!” 

There was a pause. And then, 

“I’m sorry, did you say you pepper sprayed him!?”

[deermi]

Happiness, Luck and the Universe | Part 2 (Final)

Summary: Collage is hard. It surely is. But it can become much easier with the best boyfriend in the whole universe by your side.

Genre: Fluff, smut, a dash of angst

Warnings: Sex, cursing, alcohol use, mentiones of ciggarettes

AU: Collage, estabilished relationship

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x Reader

Word count: 5k~ 

Author’s note: The second and final part for the two shot with a smutty part for all of you hoes.

The music inside the big house was loud enough to make me feel like the bass was thudding through my whole body. The scent of alcohol mixed with something sweet and the acrid smell of cigarettes floated in the air of the dimly-lit kitchen I was standing in, as well as in every other room. Leaning against the bar, I poured some jungle juice standing on the marble surface, into two cups I was holding. With the drinks in my hands I tried leaving the kitchen without bumping into any of the known and unknown faces stumbling drunkenly around the whole place.

The beat got even louder as I entered the living room, which turned into a huge dance floor for the duration of the party. The centre area was crowded with bodies mostly pressed flush against each other, moving to the rhythm, sometimes even grinding against each other. Luckily, I didn’t need to edge my way through them to get to Jaehyun who was right in the same place he had been before I left to get our drinks. Despite the darkness surrounding us, he immediately noticed me entering the room from his spot on the couch away from the dance floor. 

I swayed my hips playfully, perfectly knowing that the material of my dress was hugging my body in the right places, and wiggled my eyebrows staring back at him. Reaching the sofa, I held out one of the drinks to my boyfriend before taking my seat by his side. He instantly put his arm over my shoulders bringing me closer to his frame, and thanked me by placing a long, chaste kiss on my cheek.

“Oh, come on.” Yuta, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, rolled his eyes jokingly at Jaehyun’s action “You should give Y/N a proper kiss for bringing you the drink.”

I turned my head around and raised my eyebrow at my boyfriend in a teasing motion. In response he just smirked before capturing my lips with his his soft ones. The alcohol flavour lingered on our connected mouths, making it even stronger when Jaehyun managed to part my lips with his tongue before slipping it inside. I tilted my head to deepen the kiss and placed my hand over his thighs pulling myself even closer to his body, feeling intoxicated both with him and the alcohol.

“Okay, okay. That’s enough, you’re gonna spill the drinks.” Yuta kicked my foot with his, making me pull away from Jaehyun for a second before placing last peck onto his lips and turning around to the boy sitting next to us “A proper kiss is a kiss on a lips, not a whole ass make out session.”

“That wasn’t even close to a make out session.” my boyfriend laughed at the comment and took a sip of his jungle juice

Before Yuta even managed to open his mouth to say something back, Bambam appeared out of nowhere and plopped on the couch, squishing himself in the small space between us, earning an annoyed groan from the other boy. 

“Hey.” he dragged out the word confirming my belief that he’s far away from sober, and stretched out his arms on the back of the couch “Are you guys having fun?” 

“As always.” I nodded giving him a smile, and took a sip of the jungle juice

“I am so happy to hear that.” Bambam placed his hand on his chest in a dramatic gesture, pretending to be touched by my words “My parents would kill me if they knew about the parties though.”

“Cheers to their business trips to Thailand.” Jaehyun raised his cup with a chuckle

“Exactly.” the boy snapped his fingers at my boyfriend's words, almost soundlessly because of his clumsy moves “Anyways, you guys are leaving earlier to fuck like the last time?” 

HIs comment made me almost choke on the drink, while Yuta and my boyfriend bursted into fits of laughter almost immediately. I turned my head around to look and Jaehyun and smacked his arm that was thrown over my shoulders. “And what’s so funny to you?” 

“Nothing.” he managed to breath out, acting all innocent, while moving his hand down to my side to squeeze my waist playfully

“Don’t worry, Bam.” Yuta patted the other boy’s shoulder, the grin not leaving his face for a second “I’ll make sure they leave before they start doing anything.”

“Alright.” I quickly drank the rest of the drink in one gulp and grabbed Jaehyun’s also empty cup out of his hand, before almost throwing them onto a small table standing next to the couch we were sitting on “Sorry to interrupt this fascinating conversation guys, but we are now going to dance.”

I stood up abruptly, grabbing my boyfriend's hand and lead him to the dancefloor leaving Yuta and Bambam, both of them drunk still giggling about the previous comments they had made.

We pushed our way through the crowd of bodies, finally stopping in the spot where our friends’ teasing gazes couldn’t reach us. I threw my arms over Jaehyun’s neck and looked him directly in the eyes, his dark orbs shining despite the darkness inside the room.

“I like how flustered you get at their comments.” his arms sneaked around my waist bringing me even closer to his body as he leaned in to make sure I could hear his words over the music blasting from the speakers

I sent him an eye roll “They’re nothing but annoying. Besides Johnny’s whining is enough for me.”

“Okay, Johnny is acting like a human condom towards us so that’s a totally different thing.” he scoffed, but the teasing smirk didn’t leave his face “Besides it’s good that they know what we’re doing.”

“Oh, yeah?” I laughed with my eyebrow raised at him “And why is that?”

“Because at least they know that you’re mine.” Jaehyun dipped his head and started to leave wet trial of kisses on my neck, making a soft sigh of pleasure escape my lips. I automatically pressed myself flush against his body, feeling his hands travel lower. “And because I’m showing all of our friends how much self control I actually have.”

“Really?” my lips curled up into a smile, feeling him kissing my jawline “How are you showing that to them?”

“For example, I’d gladly rip that dress of your body right here right now.” his voice dropped an octave lower as he teased the shell of my ear with his lips, sending shivers down my spine “And they probably know that I’d love to do that, but I will not give them that satisfaction just yet. I can still to do other things though.”

Now his face was so close that I could feel his warm breath fan the skin of my cheeks. Jaehyun’s lips were ghosting over mine so teasingly that I almost whined out loud at the anticipation for his next move.

“Things like what?” 

His only answer was kissing me as hardly and passionately as he could. I opened my mouth immediately letting his tongue collide with mine in the most lustful, yet pleasurable way. With the alcohol running in our veins and it’s taste on both of our lips I let Jaehyun take control over the kiss. His mouth was working against mine harshly and pleasingly, as his hand squeezed my butt, making me gasp against his lips. I let my fingers tangle in his soft hair and tug on it, receiving a loud groan from my boyfriend in response.

He started to grind his hips against mine making me whimper at the sudden friction. I felt him smirk into the kiss at my reaction before pulling away reluctantly. We both managed to regain our breaths, his lips remained so close that they kept brushing softly against mine from time to time.

“You know…” I leaned closer to the side of his face and grazed his ear lobe with my teeth “I never said that I wouldn’t like to do what Bambam was talking about.”

We stumbled into Jaehyun’s apartment kicking off our shoes, our lips connected in a messy clash of tongues and teeth. My boyfriend kicked the door behind us with his foot before pushing me against the surface, his mouth still working against mine. He pressed his body flush against mine, his hands were squeezing my hips and bringing them closer to his. I moaned loudly into the kiss and tightened my grip on his arms at the feeling of his growing erection pressing against my thigh.

His lips travelled down to my jawline and my neck leaving wet, chaste kisses, sucking on my skin from time to time, making red and purple marks bloom on my skin. A blissful sigh escaped my lips when I felt nib on the hickey he had made a few seconds before on my exposed collarbones, while his hands moved upward from my hips, and tried to pushed the black leather jacket I was wearing off my shoulders.

“Mark and Johnny?” I managed to breath out, regaining back my focus and reminding my boyfriend of the fact that he had roommates

“Still at the party.” Jaehyun mumbled against my neck before pulling away with a satisfied smirk on his face after completing the task of undressing me of the jacket “Hopefully they’ll stay for the night.”

He threw the piece of clothing on the couch and kissed me hungrily again, making his tongue collide with mine. My heart was beating fast against my ribcage as I started to feel the arousal grow between my legs. His hands pressed to the back of my thighs and he lifted me up with ease, my dress rolling up exposing more skin. I wrapped my legs around his waist for support as he started to walk towards his room without disconnecting our lips.

Jaehyun always made me feel like on cloud nine, even after all the time we had spent together. He knew me and my body perfectly - his kisses, touches and his hot breath fanning against my skin were driving me absolutely insane every single time.

Finally reaching his room, he threw me on the mattress of his bed, still careful not to hurt me by accident. He tugged his black hoodie over his head, swiftly taking it off, and threw it somewhere in the room, revealing his ideally shaped torso. But before my eyes could linger on his abs for any longer he hovered over my frame, his body between my legs, and began working on my neck once again, leaving even more marks. A quiet gasp escaped my lips when I felt him rub himself against my covered wetness.

“I thought you liked it when I stare.” I let out a breathy laugh, trying to focus on something else that the overwhelming pleasure

“I do.” he moved up to kiss my mouth harshly before biting on my bottom lip, making me whine at the pleasant type of pain “But I don’t know for how long am I going to last so we’ll skip this part today.”

One of his hands slipped under the material of my dress, travelling up my inner thigh, and finally gently rubbing my clothed heat. The loud sigh that escaped my lips quickly turned into an even louder moan, once he moved my lacy panties to the side and inserted one of his long fingers inside me.

“Fuck, baby. I thought I’d need to prep you.” he groaned and added one more digit making me choke on my moan eyes rolling to the back of my head “But, fucking hell, you’re already so wet.”

He suddenly removed his fingers from me, making me whine at the unexpected emptiness. He grabbed the hem of my panties and quickly took them off me, discarding them somewhere on the floor next to his hoodie. Taking me by surprise, Jaehyun rolled us over in one swift motion so that I was straddling his hips. 

He locked his shiny eyes with mine, and all I could see in them was excitement, lust and pure love. No matter how horny any of us was, it was never just pure sex for the sake of sex - Jaehyun made me feel loved and wanted every single time, making me feel butterflies in my stomach.

His hands moved to my back and he pressed a soft, loving kiss to my lips while slowly unzipping my dress. I lifted my arms over my head helping him take the piece of clothing off me, leaving me only in a lacy bra.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me.” he hungrily scanned my body, goosebumps appearing on my skin under of his gaze and the feeling of his palms caressing my waist “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I cradled the back of his head with one of my hands, tangling my fingers in his messy hair and placing another lustful kiss onto his mouth, while I lifted myself up slightly to toy with the zipper of his jeans.

“I love you so much.” he mumbled against my lips “So fucking much.”

“I love you too.” I whispered back, starting to kiss his neck, moving down his chest leaving a few marks on the way earning groans of satisfaction from him in return. My new position gave me more access to handily unzip his pants and pull them down his legs along with his boxers. I bit on my lip unconsciously at the sight before bringing myself back to his face, kissing his lips again.

Jaehyun quickly took control sliding his tongue into my mouth, muffling the moan escaping my lips at the feeling of his tip running up and down my slit spreading the wetness, before finally entering me. I pulled away from his lips throwing my head back, sighing at the stretch and giving him access to leave more kisses on my exposed neck. He skillfully unclasped my bra which was the last piece of clothing remaining on my body and ran his hands down my sides, finally resting them on my hips. He lifted me up on his length before pulling me down again, his dick reaching even deeper inside me.

“You feel so good around me, baby.” he groaned against my jaw while I began to slowly raise on him “So good.”

I moaned loudly at his words, moving my hips faster. His cock was hitting just the right spots inside me making a small whimper escape my lips every time I slid down his length. 

“You like that? You like how I am making you feel?” his warm breath fanned the skin of my cheek

Not trusting my voice enough, feeling completely overwhelmed with pleasure, I just nodded eagerly. Jaehyun let out a breathy laugh at my reaction, stopping my movements with his hands and thrusting his hips into mine, making a scream of pleasure escape my lips as he hit my g-spot with his tip.

“Oh, God.” I whimpered “Jae, there. Right there.” 

With the sudden boost of confidence, he began to snap his hips against mine even harder. My legs quickly started to tremble at the familiar tension building up in my abdomen.

“Jaehyun, I’m-“ my words we’re cut by another moan coming out of my lips

Feeling my high approach me, he instantly moved one of his hands to my clit and started to rub it making me scream in pleasure once again. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling myself closer to him as he thrusted into me rapidly.

“Cum for me, baby.” he whispered in my ear, his voice dropping an octave lower, sending shivers down my spine

His words and tone sent me over the edge, a wave of pleasure washing through my body as I started to repeat Jaehyun’s name like a mantra. With my walls tightening and pulsing against his length, he quickly followed me releasing his warm seed inside me with a loud groan. 

We slowly rode out of our highs, panting heavily. I couldn’t care less about the sweat covering both of our bodies as I let my head fall on his shoulder while his hands started to rub soothing circles on my hips, keeping me steady and trying to calm me down after the strong orgasm. 

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun pecked my cheek lovingly after a few seconds of silence

The small hum of confirmation I gave him wasn’t enough of an answer to him. He took my chin between his fingers making me face him. His lips were swollen from the kissing, his breath still a little heavy, his hair devilished after I had messed it with my fingers constantly tugging on it. 

“You sure?” his eyes scanned my face looking for any signs of discomfort. That was one of the things that made me love Jaehyun even more - no matter how hard he had gone, he always had to make sure I was fine after we were done.

“Yes.” I reassured him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips “I’m sure.”

He stared at me for a few more seconds as if to confirm my words. Eventually, he pecked me one more time before pulling me of him and gently laying me down on the mattress. 

“Let me clean you up.” he reached out to the nightstand and grabbed a few tissues from it. He carefully swiped the skin of my inner thighs, pressing his lips briefly to each of them, before moving closer to my core. After he finished, he got up from the bed and threw the napkins into the bin then came to his closet and picked one of his t-shirts for me and a pair of fresh boxers for himself.

While he got dressed I pulled myself off the mattress up to sit, trying to ignore the soreness in my entire body. Jaehyun helped me by pulling his tee over my head and pressed a kiss to my forehead. He wrapped his strong arms around me and layed us back down on the bed, his grip on my body was tight yet gentle. I cuddled to his side and placed my head on his chest listening to his soothing heartbeat. 

“You know.” my boyfriend’s chuckle broke the silence “Birth control was actually a very good idea.”

“Of course.” I snorted playfully “My ideas are always good.”

He laughed once more at my response and moved his hand up to my head, slowly caressing my hair. His gentle strokes, steady breath and darkness filling the room lulled me to sleep almost immediately.

The next morning I waddled into the kitchen area, hissing slightly at the soreness between my legs caused with each step, feeling as if my head had been twice as heavy as it usually was. The only thing keeping me on my feet was the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingering inside the whole apartament.

“Oh, yeah. You also look like you had the worse yet the best night yesterday.” Mark was leaning his back on the kitchen counter with Jaehyun, who had already been dressed in a t-shirt and a par o sweats giving me a signal that it really must be late, right by his side

I whined at his words, squinting my eyes at the bright light coming from the window in front of me, and approached my boyfriend. He automatically outstretched his arms for me to snuggle to his side with a soft smile on his face.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty.” he pecked my forehead “Coffee?”

I nodded against his chest, still clinging onto his body when he started to pour the warm, dark liquid into one of the empty mugs standing on the counter.

“Is your hangover that bad?” Mark asked as I took the drink from Jaehyun breathing in the energizing scent, before shaking my head in response

“Nah, it’s pretty normal I guess. I’m just feeling clingy that’s all.” I felt that my voice was still slightly hoarse after the eventful night

“We didn’t really have that much to drink.” Jaehyun added with a small shrug

“Where’s Johnny by the way?” I looked up finally noticing the absence of the tall boy, who usually would’ve been here a long time ago giving us a lecture about using protection or something of this kind

“I left the party around six, but he stayed for the night. I guess he met a girl at Bambam’s.” Mark explained quickly “Though he might be back in an hour or so. It’s almost noon.”

“And this man has the audacity to call us out for having sex.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes

“Yeah, and he probably will do it again if he comes back and sees this.” the boy pointed at my and Jaehyun’s throats “So you might want to cover that up. I wish I could see his reaction, but I have a weekend shift I have to start getting ready for.”

I put my hand to touch the skin of my neck, realizing that we both still had the marks of last night almost everywhere on our bodies. Mark just laughed at my blank expression before leaving the two of us alone in the kitchen.

“We better cover that up.” Jaehyun looked down at me “Your looks pretty bad.”

“Your doesn't look the best as well.” I pointed at the purple marks painted on his skin most probably resembling the ones on mine “And it’s only your fault that I look like somebody punched me right in the throat a few times.”

“What can I say?” he squeezed my waist playfully “You’re irresistible.”

I sent him an eye roll while drinking up the remaining drink before wiggling out of his grip and placing the now empty mug in the sink. 

“I’m going to take a shower. And get dressed.” I announced feeling the booster of energy from the coffee slowly start to hit me. But before I could leave the kitchen I heard Jaehyun call my name making me stop and turn around to face him again.

“I was thinking…” he slowly trailed and took a final sip of his own drink “I was thinking about something that will sound completely random to you right now.”

My eyebrows furrowed as he put his mug on the counter with a small thud and approached me, placing his hands back on my waist. He started to tap his against my body like he had done every time he felt nervous or stressed. 

“It’s just that… Okay, I need to find the words.” he threw his head back and groaned in frustration, making me let out a small giggle at his flustered state. He looked at me again with seriousness in his eyes before continuing. “Would you like to move in with us? With me?”

I stared at him trying to process what he had just proposed to me, feeling like I hadn’t heard his words correctly.

“You’re spending most of your time here anyways. And you and your parents wouldn’t have to worry about paying the rent for your flat anymore. You’d just pay a part of what we pay here which is definitely smaller than your current rent.” he continued, my heart fluttering at his adorable rambling “I mean… Only if you want to though. No pressure, it’s just a proposition.”

“What about Mark and Johnny?” I asked with confusion “Do they know?”

“They’re perfectly fine with it. I talked it all out with them before asking you.” his head was bouncing as he nodded energetically “So… What do you say?”

There was no need for me to answer. Because the moment I jumped in his embrace squealing with excitement and threw my arms around his neck, pressing a long kiss to his lips he had already known what it was. 

My foot was nervously tapping against the floor while I was remained seated alone on the couch in the living room, fidgeting with my fingers. The whole apartment was silent, the only sounds coming from behind the closed doors of Johnny’s room when the boy got too frustrated with the game he was playing. I didn’t even like taking out my phone or doing anything else to relax myself somehow. The feeling of anger, that had previously boiled up inside me, was slowly starting to change into regret as I realized the amount of unnecessary words both of us had said.

Arguments with Jaehyun were something that happened extremely rarely, but when they did they were rather bitter. Not because they were intense, but because none of us knew whether they were more mad at the other one or mad at themselves for not being able to control their own bad temper. And what’s more, they were usually about something petty that just got on mine or his nerves at some point.

And not picking up the phone was a perfect example.

Suddenly the sound of the door of my boyfriend’s (and actually now mine as well) room broke the silence, but I didn’t bother looking up. I kept toying with my fingers on my lap even when I heard the sound of Jaehyun’s careful and quiet footsteps closer to me with each second. He came up to me slowly, but when he noticed that I had no intention to face him, he just kneeled down in front of me giving me no choice.

“Baby…” he spoke with the softest tone while gently placing both of his hands just above my knees “Please talk to me.”

I turned my head around, trying not to look him in the eyes, without giving him any answer. I heard him let out a deep sigh before cradling my cheek and making me face him once more.

“I’m sorry.” he tenderly moved my hair out of my forehead “I shouldn’t have got so angry. I was just so worried that something could’ve happened to you when you weren’t picking up that I overreacted in the end.”

His voice was full of true regret and concern. I loved Jaehyun too much to be able to stay mad at Jaehyun for long.

“I’m sorry too.” I finally looked at him while he was still caressing the skin of my cheek with his thumb “I should’ve understood that you’re just trying to care about me. And I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

A genuine smile appeared on his face before he moved to sit next to me on the couch and wrapped his arms around me, holding my body in a warm embrace.

Another thing about fights with Jaehyun was that they finished as quickly as they started since there was no way we could stay away from each other for too long. 

“No more arguing?” he asked, still beaming at me

“No more arguing.” I repeated with a small giggle, feeling as relieved as he did that we had put an end to it

“For the next time I’ll just get a powerbank.”

“Oh, no.” he pressed his lips to mine, stealing a short peck from me “I’ll give you mine.”

The dim light of the setting sun coming through the window was the only thing brightening up the bedroom. The familiar scent of Jaehyun’s cologne filled my nostrils as I inhaled and exhaled calmly. We were laying down on the mattress of the bed, eyes closed, with the sound of Jaehyun’s soft, chill playlists in the background.

Evenings like that were one of my favorites - the comfortable silence surrounding us, nobody else but us in the room, and the warm embrace of his body next to mine.

“Jaehyun?” my eyes remained closed as I called out his name

He quietly hummed in response giving me a signal to continue.

“Are you sometimes wondering what the future will look like?” I asked looking up at him and noticed he was now staring at me with his eyebrow raised

“Why such a deep question so suddenly?” 

“I don’t know.” I shrugged slightly “Just a random thought.”

Jaehyun took a deep breath and began staring at the ceiling.

“You know…” he trailed while drawing small circles on my arm “I sometimes do. But I’m trying to think that the universe is not actually such a bad place. And I think that it’s a rather happy one. So the future can’t be that bad or scary even though I am not sure what it looks like.” 

He rolled over so that we were facing each other before continuing.

“And after all, I think that I’m pretty lucky that the universe decided to make the two of us meet.”

“That super cheesy, Jae.” I giggled 

“Okay, but cheesy doesn’t mean it was a lie.” he shook his head with a chuckle “And as much as I don’t know what the future holds for both of us, I’m certain that you’re a part of it.”

Normally I would tease him for the cheesiness of his worfs again, but the warmth and honesty in his voice made my heart skip a bit. I placed my hand on his cheek and began trailing his familiar features with my thumb with a soft smile on my face. 

“Good.” I whispered “Because you’re a part of my future as well.”

He smiled at me and pecked me lovingly twice - once on the forehead and once the nose, before placing his hand over mine on his cheek.

“I love you Y/L/N Y/N.”

“And I love you too, Jung Jaehyun.” I muttered against his lips before capturing them in the softest and the sweetest kiss. He kissed me back without any hesitation and wrapped his arms around me even tighter bringing me closer to his frame.

And right there, laying on the bed in a dim lighted room with the person I loved the most on this whole planet, I realized that I agree with him completely. We indeed were lucky that the universe let us find the happiness in each other.

[iam93percentstardust]

I'm bombarding you with those prompts, so I fully understand if you just ignore all those you don't like, lol. Would WinterIronFalcon be an OT3 you're intrested in writing? Some established WinterFalcon with Tony pining helplessly after them, not believeing he could have a chance? With a dash of angst in it? Thank you ♡

There isn’t much angst in this but there is hopeless pining so yay?

Also on ao3 here

~

“Share Bear, it’s not fair,” Tony whines into the phone.

“What isn’t?” his cousin asks, sounding patient but also kind of amused. He takes the phone away from his ear and squints at it. Is she making fun of him? She probably is, Sharon always makes fun of him. She’s mean like that; he’s pretty sure she gets it from Natasha.

“They’re so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.”

“Oh. Them again. Seriously Tony, didn’t you used to have better taste?”

“Excuse you,” he says, offended. “My taste is perfect.”

“They think arguing is foreplay.”

“It’s bickering! And it’s cute!”

“Gross,” Sharon says cheerfully.

“God hates me,” Tony says dramatically, flinging his hand over his eyes. “That’s why he cursed me to work with two such beautiful humans who are already dating each other.”

“Tony—”

“I know Bucky stays up to date with the fandom,” he continues, going a little quieter. “He’s gotta know that tons of people ship the three of us. But he doesn’t say anything about it. Share Bear, why doesn’t he say anything?”

“Probably because for every person who ships all three of you, there’s twice as many who ship just you and him,” she admits. “I know that if someone were shipping Maria and Nat and ignoring that I even exist, I’d be pretty upset.”

“Yeah,” he says glumly.

“What’re you filming today anyway?” she asks.

“True Crime. We were supposed to be doing an episode of Supernatural at the Odinson Mystery House, you know, over in Norway where the son found out he was adopted and then got super into Norse mythology and supposedly disappeared into a rainbow?”

“Oh yeah, that guy was crazy.”

“Wasn’t,” Tony insist stubbornly. “There are three different eyewitnesses and they all saw the same thing.”

“All three eyewitnesses tested positive for meth.”

“It was trace amounts and ruled irrelevant to the case. Anyway, there’s some sort of blizzard so our flight got canceled. We figured we’d get a jump on this season’s True Crime episodes instead.”

“What are you doing this week?”

He scowls into the phone. “Fandom episode. They voted for Captain America.”

He can practically hear Sharon wince. “I’m sorry. That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, not least because both of them know exactly what happened to Captain America. He was recovered from the Arctic back in the 50s and went on to live a very happy and fulfilling life with Aunt Peggy. But that’s a very closely guarded state secret; the U.S. government can’t let it get out that Steve Rogers survived nearly a decade in the ice. Technically, Tony and Sharon aren’t even supposed to know but Aunt Peggy had insisted she be allowed to tell them after she took custody of Sharon and Tony moved out of Howard’s and into her home. It’s kind of cool actually, knowing that Uncle Steve is really Captain America. He’s a pretty great guy. It just kind of sucks that he can’t tell anyone about it and now he has to do a whole episode about it when everyone knows he’s a shitty liar.

He’d talked it over with Uncle Steve and Aunt Peggy when the results of the vote had first come in. Aunt Peggy’s advice had been to act more manic than usual, throw even more outlandish theories into the mix, and really make this episode about the banter between him and Bucky. “Direct their attention away from Steve,” she’d said. “They’re already going to be looking at you. Just make sure they’re doing it for the wrong reason.”

He kind of wants to kiss Bucky. That would definitely draw attention away from the episode. But that’s not fair to either Bucky or Sam, who are very happy with their relationship and don’t need a homewrecker like Tony throwing a spanner into the mix.

“Good luck,” Sharon tells him before they hang up. “You’re gonna need it.”

“Wow, thanks,” he mutters but she’s already gone.

~

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty webseries about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

Now they have a fandom and merchandise and actual fanfiction written about them, which is the craziest thing. They both have several often-quoted gifs floating around the Internet and Bucky has somehow become the poster child for being unimpressed by literally everything (he actually makes some of the best faces when something genuinely scary happens but they always end up editing those parts out—he has an image to maintain after all).

They brought Sam on once they started gaining in popularity. Tony, by that point, already had a pretty well-established crush on Bucky. He’d even thought that he had a chance with his co-host, small as it may be, and at first, it hadn’t seemed like Sam was going to change anything. He and Bucky argued all the time so Tony had been absolutely stunned when he’d stumbled upon them making out like it was the end of the world.

They had just finished filming their second season. Sam had suggested going out to a local bar. He’d suggested it for all three of them but Tony had, inexplicably, felt like a third wheel all night as Sam and Bucky bickered. At one point, Sam had disappeared off to the restroom and a couple minutes later, Bucky had followed him. Tony doesn’t know how long he had sat there waiting for them but he’d eventually gone looking for them only to find Sam pressing Bucky up against a wall.

And that had been that.

Three years later, Sam and Bucky are still going strong, Tony is as smitten with Sam as he is with Bucky despite knowing how hopeless both crushes are, and the fandom seems convinced to either write Sam out of Tony and Bucky’s relationship or write Tony into Sam and Bucky’s. He wishes they would stop. He stays pretty up to date with the fandom as well and they have all these meta posts about the way Bucky looks at him or something. It just keeps giving him hope but, well, it’s been three years. If Bucky wanted him, or if Sam did for that matter, they would have done something long ago.

~

“Hey, you doing okay?” Sam asks him as they’re setting up.

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” He avoids meeting Sam’s eyes, focusing instead on adding creamer to the coffee. Marvels had presented them with these mugs last year to congratulate them on four years of Unsolved. They’ve got their most iconic quotes printed on them, Bucky’s with “Obviously I killed JFK” and Tony’s with “I’m the dramatic bitch your mom warned you about.” Sam has one too with his one and only line in the entire show printed on it (“Why did I agree to work with you?”) but since he’s always behind the camera, he doesn’t have to use the same mug for each episode.

“You just seem a little off.” The worst part is that Sam genuinely looks concerned. If they didn’t care about him, he thinks his crush might be easier to manage but they do because they’re just nice guys like that. “I know you weren’t too thrilled when we announced this week’s case.”

“Howard worked with him, practically hero-worshipped the damn guy. Of course, I’m not excited.”

Sam winces. They know all about Tony’s shitty relationship with Howard after his dad called Marvels furious that his son was hosting a webseries instead of coming home to grovel at his feet and take over the business. The whole team had been brought in to listen as Fury tried to placate him. By the end, Bucky had been furious on Tony’s behalf and Sam had berated Fury for twenty minutes for making Tony listen to the vitriol his dad had spewed. It had cemented his crush on Sam, then just a passing fancy, into something real and permanent.

“Seriously, Sam, I’m fine. Might be a little off today but I would have said if I didn’t think I could do it.”

Sam doesn’t look convinced but he agrees anyway. Tony sits down next to Bucky and passes him his mug. Bucky shoots him a grin and murmurs, “Thanks, doll.”

Tony doesn’t blush but that’s only because he has five years of practice. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Sam counting them down and he turns to face the camera, settling his hands in front of him.

“This week on Marvels Unsolved True Crime and in celebration of our 100th episode,” he begins, “we asked you what you’d like us to investigate and you came back—”

“—overwhelmingly,” Bucky interjects.

“Many, many times,” Tony agrees, “with a topic near and dear to my own heart: Captain America.”

“That’s right,” Bucky says, sounding surprised though Bucky had been the first to point out that maybe they shouldn’t do this episode because of Tony’s connections to Project Rebirth. “Your dad helped turn Steve Rogers into Captain America, didn’t he?”

“And he never let me forget it!” Tony says cheerfully.

“One hundred episodes,” Bucky says slowly, enunciating each word. “Can you believe that, doll?”

Sometimes, he wonders why the fans ship them when Sam is right there. Other times, Bucky says things like this and he understands completely.

“Not even a little bit, Bucky Babe.” Okay, so maybe he doesn’t help.

“One hundred. The big one zero zero.”

“We tried to do something extra special and get Sam in front of the camera for you guys—”

“—so you could see what a hunk he is—”

“—but Sam said that he didn’t trust anyone else to film us properly—”

“—which makes sense because Tony? If you put him in the wrong light, he’s practically a gremlin—”

“Hey!”

“I’m just telling the facts.”

“Well, the facts are wrong.”

“They’re facts, sweet thing, they can’t be wrong.”

“Can too. Anyway, since Sam refuses to join us—”

“—and that just breaks my heart because Sam, he’s one of my favorite guys, you know?”

Tony pauses. It’s not like Bucky to say anything nice about Sam. Usually, it’s all good-natured insults and bickering. He must really be fed up with the Starkbucks shippers to say something like this when they’re still this early in the show.

“Only one of?” he asks curiously.

Bucky shoots him one of those filthy grins that their audience loves so much. “Well, it’s hard not to include you on that list,” he drawls.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to blush.

He’s not going to—

Damn it.

Whatever. It’s no big deal, that’s what editing is for. So what if Sam has never edited out one of Tony’s blushes yet? Maybe Tony will get lucky and he will this time.

“You know, I was actually named for Captain America’s sidekick?” Bucky asks, getting them back on track.

“Wow, that is deeply unfortunate,” Tony deadpans.

“Yeah, Dad’s a fanboy. His whole troop was pinned down and rescued by the two of them. He tells the story all the time—kind of like your dad.”

“Except my dad goes straight past into fanboy and directly into obsession territory.”

“…Fair enough.”

“Really? That’s all you’re going to say?”

Bucky shrugs and takes a sip out of his mug. “I’ve been inside your house. I’ve seen the Steve Rogers shrine. I’m not going to argue with you.”

Tony thinks about that for a moment. “It is kind of a shrine, isn’t it? Anyway, we’ve got some great stuff for you today. We’re going to crack open this cold case, show you some never-before-seen footage courtesy of my mom sneaking my dad’s old war tapes out of the mansion, and then we’ll talk a little bit about the theories out there.”

“How many of them are going to be ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible?”

Tony glares at him. “None of them. I have never once presented a ridiculously outlandish and physically impossible theory.”

“Right because alien abduction is a valid—”

“Aliens are real!”

“You said that crabs might have eaten Amelia Earheart!” Bucky shouts over him.

“It’s a valid theory!”

“I take it back, you’re not one of my favorite people anymore.”

“That really hurts me, deep inside,” Tony says sarcastically, trying to cover up that maybe that does send a small pang shooting through his chest. He likes the thought of being one of Bucky’s favorite people. He doesn’t want to lose that.

“How deep?” Bucky asks and winks.

“Very deep. Way, way deep down. Practically in my—”

Bucky’s eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his coffee. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Let’s get into the facts.”

“Hey, that’s my line!”

~

“With a missing plane and pilot and so much redaction in the files, we’re lucky to even have a name, let’s get into the theories.”

“Actually, wait, before we do that,” Bucky says, “I want to ask if you’ve ever noticed that your voice changes when you’re doing the voiceovers.”

“Wait, what?” Tony asks. He glances at him, to one of the cameras, then back to Bucky. “What do you mean?”

“You know, it gets all deeper like you’re trying to voice movie trailers or something.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Sure it does.”

Tony shakes his head. “There’s no way.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Told you!” Bucky says triumphantly.

“You’re such a child,” Tony sneers.

“Yeah, that’s why you like working with me so much.”

Behind the camera, Sam silently snickers and Tony glares at him before telling the camera, “If you’re watching, let us know in the comments. Is my apparent movie trailer voice okay or does it need to go like Bucky clearly thinks?”

Bucky goes paler. “Hey, wait, I didn’t say it had to go.”

“It was implied when you brought it up,” he argues.

“No!” Bucky insists. “I was just wondering if it was on purpose.”

They both turn toward Sam, who thinks about it and then makes a ‘sort of’ motion with his hand.

“Aha!” Tony says triumphantly.

“Traitor,” Bucky mutters into his coffee.

Sam signs, “I’ll make it up to you when we get home tonight.”

“And that was more than I ever wanted to learn about Sam and Bucky’s love life,” Tony lies through his teeth. “Let’s get into the theories. I only have two for you today, one of which I think Bucky will particularly like.”

“Oh no.”

“Our first theory is that Steve Rogers died in a plane crash on December 16, 1944. Winter months in the Arctic are known to be particularly stormy. There would have been low visibility due to the high latitude and time of year and with the waters and surrounding land being well below freezing, it’s possible that, even if Captain Rogers survived the impact, he would have frozen to death in the stormy seas.”

Bucky thinks about it for a second. “Yeah, that seems plausible.”

“In addition, Howard Stark, a known Captain America aficionado and the father of Marvels Unsolved’s best host—”

“You lie like a rug!” Bucky howls.

Tony snickers and then when Sam signs, “He’s really not,” bursts out into full-out laughter.

Once he’s recovered, he continues, “Howard Stark has spent the first fifty years after the crash of the Valkyrie and the last twenty funding searches in the Arctic in the hopes of recovering Captain Rogers’ body. He has found no evidence that Captain Rogers survived the crash although he did find part of the remains of the Valkyrie and has since stated that, ‘No human could have survived that crash.’”

The expeditions are a scam and have been since Howard first found the Valkyrie crash site and Uncle Steve along with it. He hadn’t been planning on continuing the expeditions—too costly, as he claims—but when Aunt Peggy had told him that Uncle Steve’s survival had to remain a secret, he’d kept them up for pretense’s sake.

Bucky is saying something about how it sucks that the first superhero is gone and when he finishes, Tony grins and says, “Then you’ll like our second theory.”

“Somehow, every time you say that, I end up completely hating it. Wonder why that is.”

“Our second theory is that Steve Rogers survived the crash and is still alive but cryogenically frozen in the ice. There—”

“Bullshit!”

Tony starts laughing but he tries to continue on over Bucky shouting that it’s complete nonsense. It’s hard and he knows that Sam will probably have to do some editing and maybe make Tony do some voiceover work in order to make the theory audible but he thinks he manages to do a pretty good job.

Bucky is pouting by the end of it, arms crossed over his chest. “What fucking bullshit,” he mutters.

“The supersoldier serum—” Tony starts to point out.

“Isn’t a miracle drug.”

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“No, it just made him big and strong. It doesn’t just magically keep people alive when they should have died.”

And then they’re off into familiar territory, arguing about the merits of either theory. Tony’s actually feeling pretty good about himself, convinced that he’s doing a decent job of steering the conversation away of anything classified, right up until Bucky says, about halfway through the episode, “I’m surprised at you, Tony.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Surprised?”

“Usually, you have some absolutely batshit, off-the-walls crazy theory but these have actually been pretty normal for you.” He pauses and then adds for effect, “And you’re usually much better at your research than this.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh come on, even I know that there’s one more theory.”

He starts tapping at his chest nervously, almost wishing that he had a pair of sunglasses. Aunt Peggy always said that his lies are in his eyes, that they’re too expressive to hide the truth. When he was living with Howard, in the spotlight, he always had a pair of sunglasses to hide his eyes but he hasn’t wanted to use those since he moved out. He wishes he had them now.

“And what’s that?” he asks, feigning a casualness he doesn’t feel.

“That Steve Rogers lived and came out of the ice at some point and has been living out his life in anonymity.”

He barks out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t mention it because even I know that that theory is completely impossible.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before.” Sam nods agreeably. Bucky nods back at him and adds, “Even Sam agrees with me.”

“He’s your boyfriend, he’s practically required to.”

Both Sam and Bucky laugh at that one and yeah, okay, it was a pretty ridiculous statement. Anyone who knows them knows that being boyfriends is less likely to make them agree with each other.

“Look, Steve Rogers didn’t come out of the ice alive. Howard would have known for one thing and if you think, he could keep something like that quiet, then you don’t know him very well.”

“Maybe the government insisted it be a secret,” Bucky suggests, shrugging. “There have been plenty of people who have claimed over the last couple decades to be Captain America.”

Tony scoffs. “Oh come on, by that logic, anyone could be Captain America.”

“Maybe they could be.”

“No,” Tony says flatly. “It’s like that crazy conspiracy theory guy over on Reddit who’s convinced that Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Maybe Bruce Wayne is Batman.”

“Ooh do the butts match?” Tony says mockingly. “I mean, really, Bucky Babe, if we’re going off of lookalikes, then my fucking Uncle Steve is secretly really Steve Rogers, which is ridiculous because the guy’s like practically ancient and faints at the sight of blood in PG-13 movies.”

That sets off another round of arguing that lasts the rest of the episode until finally Tony wraps it up with, “Whether Steve Rogers died in 1944 or is still alive today is a mystery that will remain unsolved.”

They both pause for a moment to provide time for Sam to edit in the theme music and closing title. Usually, there would be some lighthearted bantering afterwards, maybe a joke about something they said earlier in the show. This time though, Bucky says thoughtfully, “The thing is, though, I’ve met your Uncle Steve—”

Tony goes cold.

“—and he really does kind of look like—”

Tony panics. That’s the only explanation that he has for declaring, “I’m done waiting,” reaching across the tables and grabbing hold of Bucky’s shirt, and yanking him forward to kiss him.

For a moment, Bucky is too startled to do anything but then he melts into Tony, mouth opening under his, tongue pushing forward to meet his. Bucky’s arms come around him, pulling him up and out of his chair and settling him into his lap. Tony makes a small greedy sound, swallowed by Bucky’s kiss, and then they’re both pulling away. Bucky’s lips are very red; Tony can’t stop staring at them even as he’s filled with dismay.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Why not?” Bucky demands.

“You—Sam—” He glances toward the camera but Sam isn’t standing there anymore. His heart drops into his stomach—has he just ruined Bucky and Sam’s relationship? But then he hears someone drop to their knees behind him and when he turns slightly, Sam’s fingers are on his chin, gently turning his head.

“How long?” Sam asks.

“How long what?”

“How long have we been wasting our time when we could have been kissing you instead?”

Three years, two months, and fifteen days. “Too long.”

Sam kisses him then, mouth gentler than Bucky’s but no less consuming. Bucky is a hard, hot line against his front; Sam is warm against his back and Tony? Tony loses himself in the storm that is the two of them, sparks shooting through him as Bucky’s hands find their way to his hips, as Sam’s tongue slips into his mouth, as Bucky whispers into his ear, “We’re not wasting any more time.”

~

Marvels Unsolved’s 100th episode shoots to their most watched, most liked video in less than a day and when asked, maybe the smallest handful of viewers could have said what it was about.

The day after it posts, only a week after it was filmed, Tony’s phone rings.

“Kill it with fire,” Sam says sleepily.

Tony, however, recognizes Aunt Peggy’s ringtone and he rolls over to grab it before Bucky can throw it at the wall. “Hello?” he asks groggily.

“Congratulations on not blowing Steve’s cover,” she says.

“Oh yeah,” Tony mutters. “Can I go back to bed now?”

“One more thing, duck.”

“What’s that?”

“Congratulations on the new boyfriends.”

[lihikainanea]

Tiger being in little space and doing something nice for Bill. Wether it’s getting him a gift or cooking him dinner for no reason. Maybe when he gets home and sees the gift he gently pushed her on the couch and maybe in return, he fingers her and makes her feel good. Whispering things like, “thank you, sweet girl. I love the gift and I absolutely adore you, thank you” while never breaking eye contact. Whispering sweet thank you’s until she’s shaking from pleasure. Just being all gentle and shit

Anonymous said: I’m so sorry for this but Bill finger fucking Tiger while wearing that nice ass watch because he KNOWS how crazy it makes her. He was confused by her attraction to it at first, but he’d be damned if he doesn’t use it to his advantage.

Oh god please I need just a moment to calm down all the delicious, insane thoughts running through my head right now.

INHALE. EXXXXXHHHHHAAAAAALE.

We talk a lot about the magic of Bill’s mouth, don’t we? We do. But that boy’s hands--oh my fuck, that boy’s hands.

Alright, so that watch Bill wears a lot? I’m pretty sure it’s IWC. IWC men’s watches, in general, retail for a cool $30,000-$40,000 USD for a base model, and that’s just....unf, that’s a lot of understated bling on that thick wrist. But maybe it’s an automatic which can be a little tricky sometimes, and when he was travelling he reset it to match the timezone he was in, but he reset it between 4AM and 7AM that day which actually kind of fucks up the mechanics on automatics (what? I love watches.) And since he’s been home, he’s been meaning to get it fixed but just really hasn’t had the time to find a licensed repair shop and his favourite watch has just been sitting there for like, a month.

And my girl tiger--listen, tiger loves his hands, his thick wrists. Loves the look of a real expensive watch on it. It’s a kink she hasn’t really told him about so maybe this is all a little selfish on her part.

But she nabs it one day, takes a day off work, and goes to get it fixed. And she hovers, stays at the repair shop and stares at the guy like a fucking hawk, because this is Bill’s favourite watch and it’s worth like, more money than tiger makes in a fucking year. But the dude is legit, he’s skilled, and in no time at all Bill’s favourite accessory is ticking like new. She brings it home, mildly paranoid to carry it in public for the 45 seconds it takes her to walk to her car.

Once she’s home she puts it back in its box, sets it up real nice on his pillow, and she doesn’t say a thing. And because she’s super soft for her big dude, a little extra sappy for him lately and she has the whole day off anyway, she goes shopping and gets all the fixings for his favourite dinner. He has some afternoon meetings that run a bit late so she has plenty of time, and she sets up in his kitchen to cook his favourite.

By the time he walks in she’s already a little tipsy, she’s in his shirt and just looks adorable, smiling big at him from the couch. His entire apartment smells delicious, and as he makes his way to her tiger’s heart skips a few beats. God he’s beautiful. In fitted jeans that accentuate just how long his legs are, a beautifully tailored cognac leather jacket around him, a t-shirt that dips into a bit of a V so she can see his collarbones...Bill is a masterpiece. Her best friend is so goddamn beautiful, and now he’s smiling his small lopsided grin at her as he toes his shoes off and makes his way to the couch.

“Hey kid,” he murmurs, and he crouches to put his hands on her legs, lean in and give her a sweet kiss, “It smells incredible in here.”

He smells incredible. Like soap and clean and comfort, and tiger reaches for his hand to thread her fingers with his--his hand is warm, just like she knew it would be.

“I made you dinner,” she mumbles, “Your favourite.”

And something about the way he’s looking at her makes her blush. Bill has that knack, that talent of focusing on you so that you feel like you’re the only person in the universe who matters. He smiles gently at her, and her cheeks heat up even more.

“I’m so spoiled,” he scratches lightly at her thighs, “Thank you.”

Another soft kiss, one that tigers pulls him back into for more.

“I’ll make you a drink,” she says. She doesn’t ask what. After a full day of meetings, Bill always likes something strong--a boulevardier, a negroni, something hard hitting. He always insists that tiger makes the best drinks, ones that could knock a man dead, and he never refuses whatever she mixes up.

He stands, stealing a kiss from her when she does too, then retreats to the bedroom. She smiles to herself, walking to the bar cart as she waits for him to see what’s on the bed.

She busies herself with mixing his drink, even when she hears his footsteps approaching. She doesn’t jump when she feels his arms loop around her, his hands held out in front of her, holding the watch. He tilts his head, nuzzling her ear as she shivers.

“It’s working again,” he purrs, turning the watch over in his hands.

“I um,” she can’t stop the shudder running through her as she feels his hot breath on her ear, “I got it fixed for you.

She muddles a sugar cube in the glass, adding a dash of bitters. She grabs a bottle of rye, pouring a hefty glug--measuring is for idiots--into the glass.

“Thank you, sweet girl,” he murmurs. She bites her lip, adds some Campari to the drink and grabs a stirrer. His hands still in front of her, she has to stop the whimper from escaping when he rests the watch on his wrist, turning it over to latch it. Those fingers, long and slender and beautiful working deftly around the small clasp. She holds the drink up to him when he’s done, and he brushes his fingers with hers as he grabs the glass, turning her gently to face him.

“Thank you,” he says, taking a sip, “And thank you.”

She blushes, just under the intensity of his stare. He leans down to kiss her again--slow and languid and passionate--and she can taste the whisky on him.

He pulls away and grabs her hand, leading her to the couch and coaxing her to sit. She does, but he kneels in front of her. He reaches for the waistband of her pants, hooking his fingers in and dragging them down slowly. She wants to ask what he’s doing, but she’s already pretty fucking small for him and she just wants him to call all the shots. Every last one. It doesn’t even matter what he’s doing, because she wants it done to her regardless.

“You spoil me, sweet girl,” he purrs, and you know, the thing with Bill is the attention to detail. He knows tiger really likes it when he takes her panties off--loves the feeling of it, the visual of it, so he doesn’t drag them off with her pants. He leaves it separate, because why rush things?

He moves her legs further apart, gazing up at her as he places a kiss on her mound. Hooking his thumbs into the sides, he slowly drags her panties down her legs and off. He pauses, takes another slow swig of his drink as he stares at her.

“This was so nice of you, tiger,” he says, and he uses his left hand to slide up her thigh--the cool metal clasp a contrast to his warm fingers, as he trails them to her core. She gasps as he runs two fingers gently up and down her slit, enjoying the wetness on his fingers. He lifts his glass to his lips again, before leaning over and licking the soft part of her belly under her navel. His other hand wraps around her ankle, bending one of her knees and putting her foot on the cushion.

“Better view, this way,” he winks, and she can feel the heat start to creep up her cheeks--but it’s gone a second later, her focus switching back to the gentle circles his thumb is pressing into her clit.

“I love this watch,” he continues, another slow sip of his drink, “I think it looks pretty good on my wrist, don’t you?”

Tiger can’t speak, letting out just a small squeak as he slowly pushes two fingers inside. She sighs, quivering, as he crooks them and drags against that spot deep inside her.

He leans forward, nipping at her lips and capturing them in a searing kiss.

“Look at it, kid,” he coaxes, pressing on her chin with his thumb so she’s looking down. She watches his fingers, glistening with her slick, as then pump slowly in and out of her--the watch on his wrist, the thick leather band and the shiny metal of the clasp. If she listens real close, if she can hear beyond the filthy sounds his fingers are making as they push back into her--she can almost hear it tick.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” he whispers against her lips. She’s beyond the point where she can talk--so instead he reaches back, sucks back some of his drink into his mouth, and then forcefully crushes her lips to his. He fists the back of her hair in his hand and tiger is suddenly so tuned in to everything--the taste of rye and cigarettes on his tongue, every knuckle and groove of his fingers as they keep up their slow torture, the ticking mechanics of his beautiful timepiece. She can hear and smell and feel it all, as her lower stomach clenches.

He leans back, enjoying the show of his fingers coated with her wetness. He drives them in deep, speeding up his pace as his thumb reaches for her clit. He rubs it in circles, softer at first but building the pressure as he can feel her clench around his fingers. She whimpers, reaching for something to hold on to and he gently pushes two fingers into her mouth. She moans, grabbing at his forearm between her legs to make sure he doesn’t stop--and with a loud whimper, a big heaving shudder, she comes. He feels her clenching around his hand, squeezing his fingers as she bites down on the ones in her mouth, before she eventually just goes limp against the couch. He grins softly at her, kissing her stomach before downing the rest of his drink in one shot. he pulls his fingers from her slowly, leaving the ones in her mouth and kissing her lips gently.

fuCK we have a watch kink.

[long-bodyswap]

Yotta Life

(Im sorry I don’t have the credits, but if you know the author you can @)

It’s been an adjustment lately getting used to all this fame and attention since Adele’s new album came out.  The whole world knew it would be huge, but even the most optimistic among us couldn’t have imagined that it would have the best selling first week sales of any album in history!  With massive, iconic numbers like that, it was only natural that she would need more security while she goes on her whirlwind press promo, and I’m the best in the business- ermmm- I mean technically my host, Peter Van der Veen is the best in the business, but it’s not like anyone could tell the difference since the spell I used gave me access to all of his memories, training, and personality traits.  No one has suspected a thing, and I’ve been inside Peter since he was Lady Gaga’s bodyguard!Possessing the top bodyguard for the stars has been a dream come true because I’ve met and spent time with almost all of my idols.  Gaga is much more normal in private than people give her credit for, but my favorite client so far has been Adele, BY FAR.  Never have I ever met such a witty, sweet, funny as shit, monumentally talented, and down to earth person.  Rumor has it she used to be quite the drinker before she had her baby, but every now and then she’s whipped out a little reward for the road with her team, meaning I was naturally drawn into the fun.  IIt’s been simply remarkable getting to know Adele and honestly consider her a friend.  She’s so honest and personable that I catch myself shifting out of Peter’s stern persona, dropping sass and giggling to her jokes.  I remind myself often that it’s only acceptable around Adele, but anyone who had previously known Peter would be immensely suspicious.  Still, it’s been the single most meaningful (and lucrative) gig I’ve ever done. You can see that I try my hardest to remain stern and serious.  It’s so hard because even her commentary during casual conversation is adorable and hilarious enough to make a stone gargoyle let out a good chuckle.  Sometimes it honestly is too much and I can’t help but smile and join in the silliness.  It’s comforting at least to know that Peter’s smile looks so fucking sexy- almost as sexy as his stern smolder.  

The bulk of the promo circuit ended in December so now that it’s January 2016, I finally have some time to myself.  Adele thanked me profusely for my service and friendship and begged me to free up my schedule so I could join her when her tour starts in April.  I promised her I’d lock in the dates, but it’s going to be nice to have some time to have fun behind closed doors…At the very least it’ll be nice to show off this body.Fuck, what a great day.  I’m rocking this perfect bronze and I can finally show off this sculpted body.  I work ridiculously hard to keep it up to Peter’s standards, but it’s so worth it.  Peter’s body looks sexy as hell in a suit, but it was meant to be seen and envied by others.  And the Adele gig was so lucrative that I’m set to be enjoying the next four months shirtless and glistening at this Mexican resort.  I used this morning to do a power workout of sprints and chest interval training in a nearby canyon, and then I rewarded myself with a nice afternoon spent relaxing at the beach.Peter’s sore muscles always made me horny for some reason, which meant that I was on edge almost all day every day…I didn’t mind though.  It reminded me of how powerful and full of my vitality my host was.  What I did mind though was burning in this hot sun.   Noticing a cute boy eyeing me, I saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone.  The adorable fucker looked about my real age, but way better looking, not that that mattered since I was inhabiting Mr. Europe 2005.  Being bisexual, I’ve been able to use Peter’s body to anonymously fuck around with hotties from all over the world, but I’ve gotta say I’ve developed a strong preference for boys, so let’s test the waters and see if this kid wants a taste of the premier bodyguard to the stars.“Hey, kid.” I said in a deep, yet friendly tone.  “You got a sec to help me out with something?”  I made sure to flash him a subtle smile, also pulling my shades down so he could see the twinkle in my beautiful eyes.   It only took me a second to realize I had him hook, line, and sinker.That big smile was one thing, but I had also completely stopped him in his tracks.  He was walking back over to me without a single hesitation. “What can I do for you?” The chap asked with a friendly tone that was masking what I, after maaaanyy similar encounters, knew was lust.“You see, I’m going to start burning soon, so could you help me with a fresh layer of sunblock?”He kept his jaw from dropping, but I knew he was shocked and ecstatic.   “You mean, on your back?” He asked, treading cautiously.“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with the whole thing,” I said, pointing out my sculpted chest and abs before biting my lip in a fake show of nervous anticipation.  

The boy paused to think for a second before smiling again and walking over.  “Sure, I’d love to help out,” he said in a  way that tried to make it sound like he was just doing a normal favor for a stranger.  

I grinned in relief before putting my shades back on and getting out my tube of sunblock.  I laid down, making sure to get comfortable before I took a second to adjust my junk since I was about a quarter hard from the sheer testosterone pumping through my veins.  

“Sorry about that,” I said before getting relaxed again.  “Had a brutal workout this morning.  Always gets the testosterone flowing, if you know what I mean.”“I could tell you had a good workout this morning.  You’ve got the pumped look.  Maybe you can share some workout tips- I’m trying to bulk up, but it’s been kinda hard.”“Son, you don’t need to add a single pound of mass.  The lean look is really sexy on you.”  I said that right as he popped the cap open, making him blush before he squeezed a healthy helping of that cream into his hands.  

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said before slathering that cream on my abs.  I shivered and gasped from the cold, tightening my core from the surprise, but he kept talking.  “Especially when you have a body like this.”As far as I could tell, he had no idea who I was, so it was safe to see if I could push his buttons a little.As he spread the cream over Peter’s ripped abs, I quietly moaned from the feeling of those smooth fingers rubbing that coconut scented goodness into my stolen skin.  The look on this boy’s face was one of inner conflict.  He didn’t know if he should go a little further, but he finally got my subtle hint and began rubbing me more purposefully until he was giving my abs a slow and deep massage.  

“You have…so much definition,” he marveled as he worked his strong fingers more and more expertly.   “mmmmmmm that feels so good, kid.  Guess you could tell that yesterday was ab day,”  By this point his constant touch had me more than half hard.  He definitely noticed my long and thick cock growing in my shorts, but he didn’t back away.  He started massaging me even more purposefully, sensually even.  Damn, this kid had some kink in him.  

“And I’d bet money you did a chest day today,” he said slowly and smoothly as he began working his magical hands up to my muscular slabs of pec perfection.  I moaned louder this time as he worked his hands up to my chest so he was grabbing a pec with each hand, squeezing firmly enough to loosen up those stiff muscles.  He squeezed harder, massaging my sore chest and making me groan in a mix of ecstasy and agony.  I was shocked though as he, without stopping his deep tissue chest massage, began to gently flick and rub my nipples with his thumbs.  I inhaled deeply, feeling my cock twitch and continue to engorge as this boy worked Peter’s incredibly sensitive nipples.  My breathing picked up, getting slightly faster before this kid made his big move.  I gasped loudly as he leaned down and began sucking on one of my nipples before reaching the other hand down to rub my cock through my shorts, making it pulsate and swell to full hardness.  

“Unnnngggg,” I groaned as I looked down at this cutie with thick, bushy eyebrows give in to his hunger for cock, specifically my cock.  I gasped again as he gripped my cock through the shorts, feeling the thickness of my girth and the obvious length before smiling, apparently satisfied with Peter’s thick 8.5 inches.   “If you wanted me, you should have just said so,” he whispered seductively into my ear.  

I knocked the big tube of sunscreen onto the sand before grabbing him and pulling him on top of my powerful chest, enjoying the weight of his body against my greased up chest.  I brought my mouth to his and he eagerly opened as I locked our lips and brought our tongues into a dance of lust.  Fuck, he tasted so minty.  My rock hard cock pulsated as I humped my crotch up against his, feeling his hard dick rub back against mine as I let us get lost in the lust.   FInally breaking the kiss, I told him, “I have a room,” barely having the breath to make the sentence.  He just smiled before we made a mad dash to pick up our shit and cover our raging hard ons as we ran back to the hotel.   I woke up the next morning alone int he bed except for a little note that had a phone number and the name Zac.  Man, last night was crazy.  I mean, I’ve done some kinky shit with Peter’s body, but I think I blew four of Peter’s loads into that boy last night.  Yeah, there was the load when I was fucking him doggy style.  Then another when I was fucking him missionary.  The third one was when he was riding me.  mmmmm, the last one was my favorite.  I pinned that kid against the wall with my strong arms and bounced him up and down off my powerful thrusts until I finally blew that last load so deep inside him.  On that one things got so intense.  Zac was hollering and almost hyperventilating my cock made him feel so good.  He didn’t even touch his dick that time since he was scratching at the wall the whole time, but his cock still blew a load all over the two of us.  That was about when I hit my limit.  I remember roaring so loud I thought the walls were vibrating before finally, dripping in sweat and muscles and veins bulging all over my body, I blew all of the remaining cum in Peter’s balls so deep into that boy.  When I calmed down, I carried the boy back to the bed and we both laid there making out and squirming from the afterglow of our orgasms before passing out from our multi-hour fuckfest.  

I smirked as I thought to myself how this would be my life for the next four months.  I got up and walked over to mirror, admiring my boxer-clad vessel, still just as high off of the beauty of this stolen body as I was two years ago when I first took Peter over.  

“You’re one sexy man,” I said to the reflection before winking.  God damn, seeing Peter’s body respond to my actions was still so satisfying.  I felt a fluttery sensation deep in my gut before blushing from the sight of the sexy body in front of me.  Mmmmmm yeah, Peter might be a strong and tough man, but I can always make him do whatever I want because he’s powerless with me inside.  

“Don’t ever forget that you’re too weak to resist me.  You couldn’t do a thing to stop my soul from slipping inside you and stealing you,” I taunted his reflection as I leaned his head down to his pit and huffed in his manly sweat and stench from yesterday’s workout and fuckfest.  

“You smell like a real man,” I said with appreciation before I stripped off the boxers and brought them up to my face which instantly scrunched up into one of ecstasy, huffing in the crotch area, almost coughing from the power of the manly muskiness.  It was so fucking masculine and sexy, and it always got me hard.“That turns you on doesn’t it, you kinky queer?” I asked his reflection before I brought my lips to the mirror and pretended to make out with Peter.  My heart sank though as the cold glass reminded me that I was on the other side.  Sure, I could take over some other stud for a night and use my powers to mind control Peter into having a wild night of passion, but it takes me a lot of time to build up the energy to switch, so I only like to switch sparingly.  I need at least three months to build up the necessary energy, so I don’t use the gift for casual flings.  No.  It’s a commitment, so the stolen life has to be perfect.  I stayed in Peter for the last two years because life has been so perfect, but it would be nice to finally feel and taste his body from the other side…Still, I’d need to find the perfect body and life in the next week or two in order to have enough time to get back inside Peter in time for Adele’s tour.  I guess I’ll just have to wait until after the tour…My frustration built, and I decided to take it out on Peter.  Even though I knew he was blacked out, I liked to pretend he was aware of everything when I got mad.  Grabbing his semi-hard cock, I pumped it until I got it back up to full hardness, watching myself make angry, yet sexy and turned on faces in the mirror as I pumped myself mercilessly.  

“Yeah!  You like that you queer slut?!  I’m gonna make you eat every drop of this cum!  unnnnngggggggg it’s gonna taste so fucking good, you fag!  Who’s the tough guy now, you freaky fag?  Can’t believe a tough guy like you is gonna eat your own load like some queer cum whore!”  God, this always made me feel so turned on and so much better.  I was getting close to orgasm when the phone rang.  I instantly clicked ignore, but it started ringing again.  I growled as I clicked ignore a second time, but the damn phone rang a third time.  Cursing, I let go of Peter’s cock and switched to his professional voice as I answered the phone.  

Even though I was initially annoyed, I was so glad I picked up the phone.  Smiling from ear to ear, I listened to a very special new client ask for my services over the next three and a half months.  Apparently he needed extra security for his wife, so tomorrow I would be on an early morning flight to Beverly Hills.  My vacation wasn’t over, it was just moving to another locale…and I’d finally have the chance to taste Peter’s lips and mouth from another perspective.Fuck, I was so excited I went back to pumping Peter’s cock.  I ate his load, this time to celebrate!  Now it’s time for me to get cleaned up, buy tickets, and pack!It was so lucky to get that call from Bastian Gillmeier, or Bastian Yotta as the media and instagram know him.   couldn’t help but enjoy one more early morning walk in Peter’s body, happily flaunting his muscles as I left shirtless and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze on his skin.  But then I checked his watched and realized how late I was.  

“Shit!  Better get back and shower.  Gotta get to the airport.  Damn, I won’t even have time to yank out one last load!”   I quickly cleaned up and called for a cab, and before I knew it I had checked in and boarded my plane en route to Beverly Hills.  Still, I was frustrated by this libido and the desire, no, the NEED to feel Peter’s cock be relieved one last time.  It was one of those rare flights where it was barely at half capacity, and somehow I was the only one in the first class section.  This airline was my favorite too because instead of thin curtains separating first class from economy, there were actual doors, affording me a much greater sense of privacy.  Still, I didn’t feel comfortable pumping a load out with that cute flight attendant around.  With me being the only client, he was checking on me practically every ten minutes, and I wanted to make this last.  I thought about going in the lavatory, but there was something so nasty and classless about that.  No.  I guess I’d need to test the sensibilities of this handsome flight attendant. Maybe he could even help me out.  

I looked behind me and predictably saw him waiting there with a puppy like grin, waiting to please me.   “Would you like another drink, sir?”I flashed him an enticing grin as I thought pensively.   “That does sound refreshing,” I remark as I subtly relax in my seat, getting more comfortable and spreading my legs just a little.   “Another barcardi and coke?”“I don’t know.  I’m craving something a little different.  I’m just so on edge.  I could really use something to help me unwind,” I say breathy as I rub my hands in between my thighs and groan lightly.   This boy gulps loudly, nervously adjusting his tie.  “W-w-well…We have mojitos.”“No…that’s not what I want…” I say with a husky tone as I look him directly in his eyes, licking my lips while I rub my host’s crotch, groaning slightly more loudly as I feel this meat starting to get hard and strain within the confines of its denim prison.  

“Sir!  This is inappropriate!  I’m going to need to ask you to-”“Shut up and touch it.  I know you want to.  Your cock can’t lie to me.   “SIR.  If you don’t stop I’m going to have to-HUH?!” he gasped as I grabbed a hold of his arm and yanked him close to me.He was speechless from the shock as I pulled him onto my lap, keeping him firmly locked in my grip thanks to Peter’s strong muscles as I went to work grinding my tented crotch against his backside and reaching my hand around to begin rubbing his engorging cock.   “MMMMmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhmmmmmnnngggggggg” he groaned through Peter’s big hand that was muffling his shouts.  

He squealed as I grabbed a firm hold around his rod, stroking and pumping him through his soft uniform pants, breathing hot on his neck as I whispered into his ear.   “You’re getting so horny, boy.  I can feel you getting hard in my hand.  mmmmmm a tasty boy like you is just the refreshment I needed.”  I followed by licking up and down his neck, making him gasp as shivers coursed their way up and down his spine.   “You liked that didn’t you?” I asked with a chuckle before experimenting and easing up my grip on his mouth.  

He took several deep breaths before slowly turning his head to face me.  It could have gone either way at this point as I saw the panic and indecision in his eyes.  But then the look in his eyes focused in and I knew he has made his decision.  

He lunged as he joined his mouth with mine, moaning loudly into my mouth as he wrestled his tongue past my lips and hungrily tasted me.  I needed to remind him who the big man was in this steamy moment, so I forced Peter’s tongue into this boy’s mouth, reveling in the pleasurable moans echoing into my mouth as I ferociously tasted my mile high slut.   Pulling back, he now had a look of hunger in his eyes.  “I-I’ve never done this before at work…”“It’s just the two of us in here.  No need to worry about anything.”He looked into my eyes briefly before biting his lip nervously.“Can I…taste it?” He asked with such anticipation in his eyes.   I just smirked at him.  “You think I’d say no to a hot mouth like yours?  Get to work, boy.”I closed my eyes, smiling with satisfaction as this boy crawled down onto his knees, no longer able to suppress his desire as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper.  I lifted my butt up to help him as he pulled down my pants and drawers, letting this big fat cock spring out, slapping him lightly in the face as he gawked at my host’s unveiled meat.  

I shivered as he immediately went to work, grabbing me with one of his hands, pumping me softly as he wrapped his lips around the head, getting it nice and moist as he swirled his tongue around.  My fingers were trembling, and the sensation crashing through my cockhead, down to my groin and down my thighs was so powerful that I had to bite my lip and focus on gripping the armrests just to keep from shouting out.  This boy knew what he was doing, and he had just barely gotten started.  

I felt the veins on Peter’s muscles expand, letting an intense surge of blood-flow crash through every part of his body.  It was a euphoria like no other, and it only intensified as this mile high slut began bobbing his slick mouth up and down, up and down, picking up speed as he kept sucking that meat and swirling his tongue over all of Peter’s most sensitive spots.  I cringed and scrunched my face it felt so fucking good, but I didn’t want to make too much noise.  At this point though I think he was almost challenging me to give in and admit how good it felt.  He finally had his wish as he all of a sudden jolted his head down, swallowing every inch of my meat as he scooped both hands up my shirt and found my sensitive nipples.  

My eyes shot wide open as he began deepthroating me with ferocious speed, all while squeezing, twisting, and rubbing all over my massive pecs, and particularly, my tight and hard nipples.  My back arched violently as a loud groan finally escaped my lips.  I bit my lip though to shut myself up, scrunching my face up again and hyperventilating as this boy kept swallowing my entire length.  

I couldn’t have hoped for a better last orgasm in Peter’s body, but I still wanted it to be at least partially on my own terms.  Growling as I felt the testosterone levels in Peter’s body rising, I grabbed the boy’s head with both of my hand’s, getting no resistance from him as I began to pull him down onto my cock, harder and even faster than he was already going.  Mmmmmmm it felt so satisfying as I used Peter’s strong arms to pull that mouth and tight throat down onto his juicy meat.  Such a good throat fuck, but I couldn’t hold my hips back anymore, so it got even more intense.  I know I might have been going rough on the boy, but he wasn’t complaining as I started bucking my hips up, thrusting into his mouth and thrusting powerfully down his throat.  The boy kept squeezing my pecs and nipples, getting more intense as I added more and more power to my throat fuck.  My toes were curling in my shoes as I looked down at this hungry mile high slut, and seeing the desperation in his eyes finally sent me over the edge.  Groaning loudly, I slammed his mouth down onto one last powerful cock thrust after what had seemed like an eternity of building pressure in Peter’s massive balls.  With that thrust, my pent up load was finally free, releasing stream after stream directly down the hungry throat that was so expertly milking my cock.  I shivered as kept yanking his throat down onto each new ribbon of cum, milking out over a dozen shots before the stream finally slowed to mere droplets which we sucked straight out of me with that skilled mouth.  

Attention Passengers,  Please prepare for landing.  We will be arriving in approximately five minutes.  

“Damn, sorry boy.  I guess I don’t have time to return the favor.”He just smiled adoringly at me though.  “No, don’t be sorry.  That was-That was amazing!  I’ll be thinking about you and this later tonight.  This will be on my mind for the next month at the very least!”He gave me one more passionate kiss before he straightened his tie and uniform, giving me a sexy wink as he made the landing preparations, leaving me in my golden orgasmic bliss.  He was kind enough to point to my ankles though, reminding me my pants and boxers were still down, leaving my softening meat out for the world to see.  I quickly pulled my pants back up as we began the descent.  

I hopped in the cab at the airport, unable to contain my grin as I gave the driver the address of Bastian’s Beverly Hills mansion.  The cab driver wasn’t particularly talkative, so I sat in eager silence as I mentally prepared for my transfer and mini vacation from Peter’s body.  

The passing vistas and palm trees zoom by as I absentmindedly reach my hands underneath my shirt and begin rubbing and feeling Peter’s body.  I know I’ll be feeling this body from the other side, but I’ll miss the feeling of ownership and possession.  Something about feeling Peter Van der Veen’s abs and squeezing those massive pecs with his own strong hands was immensely satisfying.  Taking over strong men and making them my hosts…my vessels…will always be my drug of choice.  

“We’re here, Mister,” the taxi driver says, looking at me with an odd expression as I realize I’m still circling Peter’s hard nipples.  I swoop my hands out from under Peter’s shirt, unable to help but go a little red in the face as I awkwardly thank and pay the guy.  I pull out Peter’s wallet, so comfortable now seeing his ID and associating that image and identity as my own.  That’s when you know you’ve found a keeper, when you look at your host’s ID and instinctively think, “Damn, I look hella fine.” 

I tipped the guy well to mask the awkwardness and walked over to the front door, suitcases in tow.  There was a note on the front door telling me to come on in and meet my new employers in the back.  The note said to just keep on following the central corridor until I reached them.   Opening the door, I was blown away by the extravagance of this massive and modern mansion.  

“What a great place to vacation,” I said aloud to myself in shock as I plopped my bags on the marble floor, closed the door, and began the long walk down the central hallway.  I passed by massive living and entertaining rooms, all decked out with expensive art, impeccable decoration, and state of the art technology.  The kitchen and dining room was as large as most people’s whole apartments, and I think I walked passed a whole new set of entertainment and party/recreational rooms.  It was simply unbelievable, but I got pulled back to reality as I heard light moaning emanating from the last room at the end of the hall.  

The moaning was definitely deep, low, and masculine.  Judging by the videos I had watched during my research, I knew it was Bastian who was cooing and making those sweet sounds of pleasure.  I could hear him faintly egging on what I can only assume was his wife, Maria.  That accent was still distinctly German, and thought some people thought it was a little harsh, I shivered from its foreign and exotic appeal.  I had never taken over a foreigner before, so I wondered if I would have the joy of speaking with such a German flare.   I kept walking cautiously towards the moans, concerned that I was going to interrupt a particularly private and intimate moment.  Still, I advanced.  That’s one of the great things about Peter’s body.  I’m this massive tank of toned muscle, but he is so light on his feet.  I barely make a sound as I walk right up to the cracked door and slowly push it open as I walk inside.  

“Huh?” I asked aloud as I creaked the door open and saw Bastian, shirtless and laying down on a medical table as his wife performed a spa facial.  She was dressed and made up to the nth degree with her pink mini dress, pumps, and full make up while she massaged her husband’s face, working the active ingredients deep into his skin that would help maintain his youth.  He clearly found the experience very pleasurable as the sounds coming out of his mouth were almost orgasmic.  

“That must be you, Peter,” he said in his sweet German accent and without even opening his eyes.  

“We’re just finishing the last step,” Maria said with a smile as she spread the remaining moisture serum down his neck before clicking a button that brought the reclined medical table back up to a chair-like angle.  

Bastian finally opened his eyes as he smiled at me, happy to see that he had been able to afford my services.  My host was, after all, the most sought out bodyguard in Hollywood.  

“Maria, can you give us some time?  I need to show him the house and talk about the next three months.  Here’s some cash–go buy something pretty,” he said as he casually handed her a thick strap of hundred dollar bills.  She was almost giddy with joy as she collected the multi-thousand dollar wad of cash and left to go shop to her heart’s content at her favorite designer stores.   “Now, that frees up some time for just us guys,” he said with a cheeky grin as he got up off the table and put his shirt back on.  

This was going too perfectly.  I tried to suppress my own giddy grin as he began to show me around the house, when like he said, it was just us guys.

[incarnateirony]

I think the issue with death as a happy ending (to a story, I should point out - death can be many things in many places, but I’m specifically talking about it in fiction) is that it’s usually written so badly that it doesn’t feel like a happy ending and it just feels like shit. There’s a very limited number of fictional works that I’ve seen actually manage it well - though in saying that, I have a very limited range, and I don’t really enjoy new things because (reasons). The ones I do recall, it’s because they were just that good and bittersweet is exactly the way I would describe them as a happy ending.

Firebringer was a novel I read when I was 12 or 13, and I still recall it. It was about a deer and it was his entire life - birth to death - and it was a happy ending. I cried through the last few chapters. Then I reread it and cried some more. It was good.

There’s also a fic I want to mention, because it’s on the topic. It’s called The white whale. and it’s by an author named orange_crushed. The entire premise of the fic is that Dean (and Sam, but it’s a destiel fic) is already dead. He died years ago. The title itself should say a lot, and the fic itself is about finding peace. It’s brilliant and beautiful, and I love it.

My perspective on death is a bit. Odd, maybe? I grew up somewhere between Christian (mum and dad and church, a mix of Baptist and Anglican) and animist (local indigenous spirituality), and while bit of both inform my interpretation, I’m very nearly atheist.

I don’t really believe in an afterlife, or rebirth, or anything like that. I believe that this is it. We get one shot at being who we want to be and acting as we choose with what we’re given. (“And isn’t it so wonderful, that we were alive at the same time?”)

I first heard the Freedom From vs Freedom To argument when reading the handmaid’s tale in my English class at school. It wasn’t even presented as an argument, everyone just seemed to agree that freedom to is better. I believe that, too. But freedom from has structure. It’s not “peaceful” and it can’t be when it is enforced, but it is informed by rules, and there it has expectations and is reliable (where reliable means we know what the consequences are, even if they’re awful). Freedom to is anarchy (which I have come to appreciate more). But neither freedom is peace.

There’s a quote I really love, and I can never recall it properly and it goes something like this: “War is an ugly thing, but it is not the ugliest. The decayed and degraded state of moral feeling which thinks nothing is worth war is much worse. A man who has nothing for which he is willing to fight, nothing more important than his own personal fucking safety, is [the worst thing]” clearly I don’t recall it very well. It’s from an old bit of hp fanfic, of all things, a very violent and disgusting version of civil war - as war is. It was the beginning of why I’m not a pacifist.

I dunno. I guess I really feel like peace - true, genuine peace - can’t be done. It’s certainly worth striving for, worth trying, but peace is either isolation and loneliness or death. Peace is knowing you’ve done everything you can, that it was enough, and being able to let it go.

Any way I think I had a point somewhere in this, maybe something about being unable to put down a fight while you’re living, maybe something about how death can be kind, maybe something about how good writing can make sad things happy, maybe that bittersweet is still sweet. Idk.

Feel free to reply to this mess of ideas or not - or pick and choose what you want to reply to, if you’d like to reply to specific parts. I mostly just wanted to share (I can do discussion, but idk if I’m still gunna have any focus later to do so, or if I’ll even see a response) some thoughts and you’re usually the only person I see on my dash with this sort of ~vague philosophy things~.

Woah when did anons get to let someone submit something so long.

Either way, a few points on this.

1. a thoughtful piece, this is a philosophy piece I will gladly entertain. However, if we are entertaining philosophy we must

2. acknowledge this is a nihilistic piece contingent on your personal world views, that while valid, and I will not take any effort to undermine on a personal belief system level

3. do not have much to do with (dependent on fringe atheism or, perhaps, agnosticism) a piece that is far from secular and atheistic while also

4. relying on the idea that “I really feel like peace - true, genuine peace - can’t be done. It’s certainly worth striving for, worth trying, but peace is either isolation and loneliness or death.”, which is itself the very nihilistic idea imparted by Chuck’s matrix but, whether you believe it in the real world, is the active target of subversion within this fantasy world, (eg, a heaven revolution where the doors are opened just like they were in hell.)

5. Finally, presumptuous that it would not be ‘well written’ and predesignating a potential discontent with the delivery that would sour it, especially with the previous points.

That said, while I’m not going to argue directly with your real life belief system -- even if they clearly disagree with my own -- I do remind you--falling back to your point that you do not believe in an afterlife: we know this fictional story does not hold this belief, ergo using that as a judgment for how it would deliver the concept of eternity is itself already wounding oneself to receiving the moral of the canon. One can not suddenly expect SPN to become a secular show just because a viewer has secular and atheistic beliefs. It is inherently asecular, theistic, and gnostic in its bones and the story will thus tell itself within that structure, which then begs if one is willing to suspend a personal belief system for a fictional canon setting they are digesting the story of.

Similarly-and-so, this is contingent on believing that the heroes’ journey will end with them maintaining the current status quo, rather than making a world where--in this fictional world in which an afterlife exists--death does not itself mean loneliness, but rather reunion.

If we can suspend our beliefs in some shows with fighting dragons or farting lightning bolts (after all, nonnie references HP fanfic), I would hope people could suspend them in regards to a moral telling of found family and the sovereignty of man in a divine and moral play.

If one were to demand SPN have entirely atheistic storytelling, the only real way to handle an ending would be to have one of the characters wake up from a 15 year coma where none of it was real and it was all a dream or something to that affect which--lol, we’re not doing, I promise. I’m sorry, but we’re not.  We’re not taking the “none of it mattered because none of it happened” angle. We’re not going to a world where angels and the afterlife don’t exist, we’re not going to collapse it where suddenly death IS the true end and life sucks and then you die, it’s just not going to happen.

So the point then is an active choice on the part of the viewer: is this suddenly the line you draw after watching a theistic show for 15 years, doubling down that this specific theistic point is the one thing we can’t accept (despite it existing in the past already), or do we continue to watch a theistic show and interpret its theistic points as the story is trying to depict? And if it’s the “drawing the sudden line,” that is, quite frankly, a personal choice to have spontaneous discontent with a critical part of a canon story’s telling at a very sudden drawn line in the sand. 

The point to exit would have been pilot 1.01 if we were going to have fundamental problems with spirits and an afterlife as crucial elements of a story. And if not then, 4.01 with angels. And if not then-- you see where this goes on. There were multiple exit ramps if the idea of an afterlife, which became more and more directly explored, was going to be an issue in reception of or enjoyment of a text. So now we’re 15 years later, and we can’t expect the highway to reroute just because we didn’t take the other 100 ramps.

SPN will tell the full spread of its moral and divine play within the full spread of its moral and divine sandbox, which someone has--to reach the ending--accepted for fifteen years at this point. If one has a fundamental problem with the entire premise of the show, it is not an obligation to any writer to cater to someone who intrinsically disagrees with the entire structure of the body of work to fulfill something within a completely different paradigm. It’s not.

Am I lucky in that it matches my beliefs? Maybe. Also cursed. Very very cursed. Because it’s led to being Through The Looking Glass for two years to the point there’s a segment of fandom that treats me as a magic 8 ball--and sometimes rightfully so, not to sound like I’m tooting my own horn or whatever. It just knows I get the structure in play to a fault. But cursed knowledge aside -- and trust me, it’s cursed as FUCK most of the time -- in the end, even when I watch shows that don’t match my personal theology, I don’t sit here and suddenly expect them to do so. There’s plenty of shows I completely suspend my beliefs in to enjoy within the sandbox they were designed in the constraints of so I find it very weird to project a discontent with a body of fictional canon presenting ideas within its own rule set based on personal beliefs in a real life lens. I mean, I don’t believe dragons exist, but if I watch the Dragon Prince for many seasons, I can’t suddenly expect the ending to have nothing to do with Dragons?

I mean, the show is literally called Supernatural. It's right there in the name. There are going to be supernatural elements about the show. My banner image is literally a reborn soul floating down the aisle. This isn't gonna suddenly be irrelevant at the end.

[potatoesandsunshine]

Campaign 2 Wrap Up: Anna Potatoesandsunshine Edition

Seemed like it would be fun to go through all the fan content I made for this campaign and try to find at least one thing I like about each thing! Kind of like looking back through a photo album. Under the cut because as it turns out, I wrote kind of a lot! (As in, 21 fics and 3 playlists kind of a lot!)

the sea, once it casts its spell (fjord speculation, what’s up with all this ocean stuff?? the fic)

The first thing I wrote for c2, wayyy in the beginning of things. We had no idea about Uk’otoa or Avantika or anyone at this point, it was pure ocean vibes for my favorite warlock. I really like how hard I leaned in on the “the ocean follows Fjord to land” idea.

so many things will fill my life (but only one will do) (post-campaign cali/jester fluff, written the night of the cali episode and so sweet it could rot your teeth)

This one is just good. I just did good with this one. I’m one of those people who hates their own work the night of posting and then when looking back at it goes, “Wow, this is great.” My favorite thing is the little gifts sent along with the letters! Cali was so fun and cute :)

when the dust does roam (Beau study up to Episode 42, 2k words of Beau poking at the idea of grief)

Best thing I did in this fic was have Caleb-through-Frumpkin bugging Beau about getting some sleep. They really... they’re siblings, your honor. 

“  “Fuck off, I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” Beau picks the bird up and sets him in the hood of her own cloak, out of reach of any weasels or startled monks in the morning. It’d suck to have to tell Caleb that his Frumpkin got eaten by Sprinkle.” C’mon guys, let’s do the sibling dance.

keep your swords out by your sides (the idea for this was, What If Fjord Has Nightmares From Uk’otoa Every Night and just doesn’t remember them)

Assigning everybody a word Uk’otoa had said for each nightmare in this was a challenge; I went into it knowing I wanted Caleb for Learn and Caduceus for Consume and had to guess the rest - for an angry eye snake Uk’otoa didn’t give us a ton of quotes. 

“ He reaches over and runs a hand along the wall of the ship. From his touch, mushrooms begin sprouting.” Caduceus starting to decompose the Mistake in the middle of cooking was maybe the best moment in this story for me. Like, yeah. Yeah. Ok you funky little grave cleric.

strange but not a stranger (Caleb & Jester, in the immediate aftermath of Caleb’s charm in Episode 55)

the first of my “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” ideas that turned into a full-fledged story. I still had not discovered the em dash at this point, so the formatting of this makes me cringe a little bit, but this fic was really about The Emotions Of Being Out Of Control which turned out to be a very big Thing for the Mighty Nein.

now this story was when swords were humble (fake academia mixed with a Yasha study)

Honestly I’m still obsessed with the AU I made here where Yasha was just awakening every sword she used without knowing it?? Why did I use that here only?? That might come back. But the best part about this fic is the citations; me at my most in-joke and ridiculous.

through the teeth of this tempest (Written in the immediate aftermath of Episode 69, Yasha internally trying to break Obann’s control over the course of a month.)

The most “I wrote this to cope with canon” fic out of all of them. I was crying writing this, I was so upset that Yasha was gone ugh just remembering it. Still waiting for past me to discover the em dash, I genuinely don’t know why I didn’t know how to do it and I’ve thought about going back and editing all of these but I’m just Not Gonna Do All That. Anyway, I really like how Yasha catches lightning with her sword in this. We all really manifested that happening.

nothing more than what the losers settle for (Time travel, a series of oneshots where each member of the m9 sans Caduceus went back to a different point in the timeline and murdered Trent Ikithon)

This was my longest fic for c2, so I’m mostly just glad it got finished. This happened somewhere around the time Matt released that set of notes that mentioned Trent in more detail and I hated him so much I just had to write him dying six times. That speaks for itself.

Revolutionary!Fjord was also a good turn. He could pull it off, I think.

we’re gonna show ‘em a thing, or two, or three (Jester growing up fluff!)

I really like how I did Jester & Artagan in this, even though he barely appears. Someone better at songwriting than me please write the Dragon Song. Em dash makes an appearance here but the formatting is still wrong. I Am Once Again Asking For Proper Use Of The Em Dash.

the best things (happen while you’re dancing) (Mid-Episode 97 Divergence, Jester taking the reins at the party + hints of jester/beau/yasha bc i still love my girls so much)

Jester’s a little out of character in this, but not wildly so, and it was for the purposes of a Trapped By Societal Convention plot that I wanted her to mastermind so I think it was fine in the end. I’m still fascinated by the way she unbalanced Ludinus Da’leth in basically every interaction they had, and while their scene feels pretty cliche in this... the cliches are there for a reason. They’re so fun to write.

Em dash my beloved, there you are.

plus thirty-one varieties of sacramental wine (The Galavant crossover that truly nobody asked for, Beau + the monks)

Yeah, this one’s just fun. Not much more to say about it. Critical Role and Galavant are both fantasy, but they’re honestly pretty different in tone, and it was fun to write Beau dropped into a comedy musical.

oh we were sea-bound and aimless at best (Purely angst, a What If The Fjord & Orly Resurrections Didn’t Work fic)

Made myself care about Marius with this one, y’all. What more can I say? Beau having to go from first mate to captain was just... deliciously painful, because she would.

lost my shape trying to act casual (Beau & Yasha during travelercon, another mid-episode fic, this time of 104)

Yasha comforting Beau, who feels guilty for not feeling guilty... That Mighty Nein wasn’t lying, Mind Control and Autonomy can be themes. Another in the  “the Mighty Nein won’t have these conversations with each other in canon so they have to be had in fic” tank. They really just... didn’t open up to each other for a long time, which made sense, but I wanted them to.

so long as you don’t mind a little dying (Beau & Caduceus, sometime in the peace talks arc)

Keeping with the Mighty Nein Please Talk To Each Other theme, I feel like I did a pretty good job with the late-night conversation energy of this fic. This was at a time when I was looking at Caduceus, can opener in hand, ready to make this firbolg open up about his feelings. Beau in this is prickly and confrontational but only in service of her friend’s well-being.

amber light, bending (Eiselcross speculation, Widofjord and all the messiness therein)

THE widofjord fic of my two widofjord fics. The blueprint. The better one. Finally I got the dynamic figured out. I maintain that the tower is an absolute expression of Caleb’s love for his friends. The way that neither of them have the braincell in this fic... yeah this one is just good.

and a blade between them (Widofjord happening... sometime.)

Okay so this is not as good as amber light and I will never be able to look at it and like it as much, but it was still fun to write. Anyway, the intimacy of shaving someone else. That is good. The tag “if they didn’t want me to think about the blood pact they shouldn’t have made the blood pact” is the most useful takeaway from this fic and is the driving force behind the Fjord/Jester/Caleb fic I’m working on now, so it wasn’t a waste of time or anything.

feel the ground beneath my feet turn into the sky (Post-Campaign Astrid-retires-to-Nicodranas, Astrid/Jester)

This is another one where I’m like “Yeah, this is just good.” Packed full of Wizard Fashion, Artagan making an appearance to rope Astrid into having a happier future, and the power of Going To The Seaside. Good for you, fic-Astrid.

spend your days biting your own neck (Role-reversal where Beau is the one mind-controlled this time and Yasha is the one chasing after her, set very early in the Tomb Takers arc)

So much of this fic is about not saying things aloud - Beau’s POV spends a good chunk on body language and Yasha writes multiple letters on paper and in her own head - but devotion bleeding through anyway because there’s nowhere else for it to go. The two of them go tumbling over a cliff together at the end but Yasha has wings, ugh. Yeah this was a good one.

and blow the dry leaves from the tree (Somewhere before the beauyasha date but otherwise timeline-nonspecific Nicodranas, Yasha & Yeza become friends)

Yasha & Yeza making pancakes together when neither of them know how to do so... is good. This fic is very much about grief sneaking in, but it’s even more about finding someone to share the moment with you. I think these two have more in common than we think.

oh, lend a mending hand (Caleb & Caduceus during Beau’s tombstone meditation in Episode 130)

I wrote this entire fic as an excuse for Caleb and Caduceus to hug and it does what it says on the tin. Got em.

it’s about the passing of measures (Beauyasha at the end of Episode 134, Aeor speculation)

This fic got extremely sidetracked because I rediscovered the marble machine during it and I do not apologize for that. I still really like the idea that Aeor as a whole, not just the Cognouza, is somewhat-alive. Too much magic and too much death for it to be anything else, in my mind. And I’m a sap for hurt/comfort.

the blumentrio playlist nobody asked for

If I think too much about how deep in each other these three people are I will cry. Made myself a soundtrack for those tears. 

the caleb playlist nobody asked for

what if this angsty wizard had a playlist of songs that mostly just... make me want to dance? that question was answered here.

the caduceus playlist nobody asked for

songs about home, leaving home, dying, changing, becoming someone new, coming home and finding it’s changed... this to me is caduceus.

yeah... this campaign has been fun!! I probably won’t stop making things about it; I still write about Vox Machina, for crying out loud, but... it feels good to lay it all out like this. It’s been a long few years, and it’s wild to be seeing the end of it now.

[tisfan]

Scarlet Hood; White Wolf

 For @livewire28

The White Wolf peered down his scope, targeted on a splash of scarlet. “Package en route,” he muttered, avoiding the temptation to touch his ear while he talked. Sloppy habits made for a sloppy job.

“Over the hills and through the woods, to grandmother’s house,” his handler said. “We’ve got eyes on the house. Prevent the package delivery at all costs.”

“Yep,” the White Wolf said, spitting out his toothpick. He pressed against the scope, watching as the target practically skipped down the path, basket under one arm.

The target was clad in a scarlet cape, hooded, that went practically to her ankles; brown boots peeped out from around the hem. The wind was a little unpredictable, flapping the sides of the cloak. The trees were thick, creaking as they swayed.

Good chance of a storm, the White Wolf thought, feeling the ache in his arm and shoulder where they’d been reconstructed after a bad mission in Switzerland. It shouldn’t affect this mission, but he’d be holed up in his safe house for a few days after, chewing vicodin and reading crappy magazines from the 60s. Hydra didn’t update its reading material very often.

At least they stocked the good drugs and reasonably decent food.

He turned his attention back to the target.

“What’s in the package?” the White Wolf wondered. He’d never wondered that before. It wasn’t in the nature of an assassin to wonder about the target; who, what, why. All he needed to know is where they were.

He squinted, bringing the target back into focus. Started the countdown in his head. Ten seconds until impending death.

Eight… seven…

He sucked in a breath, let it all out until there was no air in his chest.

Six… five… four…

The storm broke overhead. A few drops scattered across his arm. One raindrop dripped down the lens of his scope.

The target raised her head, and like a complete dumbass, pushed her hood back as if to see the clouds and scold them.

Three… two...

She turned.

She looked right at him, although there should be no way that she could possibly see him, camouflage in his hide, so far away.

But she looked right up at him, green eyes witchlike in the half-light, as if the storm was her friend and she was made stronger by it.

Like she knew him. She waved at him. Signalled. 

Something spluttered and flared in his mind, an image, a word, a picture. Something.

He pulled the trigger.

...

And missed.

Not entirely, he was too good to miss the entire target. The basket fell to the ground with a sprinkle of blood, scarlet as the cloak she wore. The target turned, bolted into the woods and within seconds, had vanished into the trees.

“Fuck.”

“Report, Soldier.”

“Target evaded. Package is--”

He almost said it, almost admitted it, that the package was down, just there, accessible.

“Pursue, Soldier.”

“Copy that.”

The White Wolf left the sniper’s rifle in his hide. He’d be back to get it, and it didn’t carry well for a dash through thick woods. He had two handguns and a dozen or more knives. He did stop for the package, before engaging in tracking the target.

She couldn’t escape him for long, bleeding the way she was.

He would find her.

And get her to explain what she’d done to him.

*

The storm kept Wanda mostly hidden as she ran. She ditched the cloak right away because she wasn’t entirely stupid.

She was a little bit stupid, in that she clung to the stubborn belief that Hydra’s casting could be undone, and more, that she was the one who could undo it.

But first, she needed to get him out of their clutches. Which meant setting up the whole drag-and-drop. She’d been taking packages for “Grandmother” for months now, trying to be more and more obvious every time, and her contact had been using that information to set up very small, mostly annoying traps and tricks.

Hydra was extremely dense, and they’d finally had to blow up a damn building to get their attention. Mostly it had been Hydra members who were killed, but Wanda flinched about the fact that there had, in fact, been some collateral damage. Keeping Hydra from killing hundreds of people with a wide-range death spell had probably been worth the eleven casualties, but it didn’t keep Wanda from running down the list of names and faces as some sort of penance before she could sleep.

“If we’re not willing to take risks, maybe next time, nobody gets saved,” her team leader had said.

It didn’t help. She was certain it hadn’t helped the families of the men and women who’d been accidentally killed in the blast. And the people who were saved? Well, it’s not like they knew.

The Big Bad White Wolf was behind her. She couldn’t hear him, or see him, but she could sense him, the way he was relentless.

She ran.

He paced her, somehow, keeping just out of sight.

And yet, she knew he was getting closer.

Not much further to go before she’d reach her safe house, and the dubious security of the wolf-trap she’d laid for him.

If he would do her the favor of falling into it, that would be great.

Close--

Closer--

Wanda leaped over the trap, pushing magical energy behind her, all but flying.

She hit the landing pad and turned to watch. If the White Wolf eluded the trap, she was dead anyway. She might as well see it coming.

He didn’t change course.

He moved like he had places to go and people to kill, striding across the clearing, knife in hand. She appeared trapped against the building, gasping and terrified -- all of which were true. And he had no reason to suspect she could fly. She gathered power, scarlet and smoke, at her fingertips. If he came closer to her, she would fly straight up.

That was the plan.

And then he walked right into the trap.

He didn’t scream as he fell, and he barely made a grunt when he hit the bottom. The wards went up, sizzling and yellow to form a dome over his head.

He got to his feet, utterly silent, and punched the ward.

Mistake.

The magical energy reflected back at him, snapping, popping. If he’d been a normal human, he might have broken his arm.

“I would just… settle down,” Wanda advised.

He didn’t say anything, just stared up at her with fierce, ice-blue eyes. Somehow entirely opposite to her scarlet magic.

“It will be all right,” she said. “We’re going to help you.”

He didn’t say anything.

*

It didn’t take long for the White Wolf to realize three things;

First, there was no physical way through the yellow energy barrier.

Two, he could hear his captors through it.

Three, he still had the box to Grandmother.

For several hours, the red-cloaked girl watched him from the top of the pit, looking down at him. She sometimes said encouraging nonsense, or reassured him that no one meant to hurt him. The White Wolf was not a child, nor was he easily frightened.

He stared back at her, pacing the interior of his prison like he was, in fact, a wolf, never letting his gaze leave her face. It was an unnerving trick, and she often stuttered or stammered over her lines as he continued to stare her down.

He was the prisoner, but she was the one who was afraid.

After a while, it got darker, and she left him there, alone.

Someone else came, and the White Wolf could hear another voice, the Huntsman, talking with Scarlet Hood.

No Grandmother yet, they might be waiting for the package, or Hydra might have managed to eliminate Grandmother from the board. That wasn’t the White Wolf’s concern. He was more interested, at this very moment, as to what was in the damn package.

Even if it was only information, the White Wolf might be able to bargain his way out of the hole with the information.

Or it might be materials for a bomb.

He waited until the voices were deep in conversation, when he was most likely to be unobserved.

The package was easily opened, sorted. There were several pictures, close up and black and white, showing soldiers. A set of silvered dog tags, ancient and battered. A love token made of a braid of two colored hairs -- dark, glossy brown, and gold-touched mahogany, bound together with scarlet ribbons. A shoulder patch from a military uniform; Howling Commandos.

He sat, cross-legged, in the center of the prison and flipped through the pictures.

He barely recognized himself; it wasn’t like the White Wolf spent time looking in the mirror, but he knew his younger face. He knew the ragged cut of his hair, and the cocky, insocient smirk. The way he looked up at a man, blond and broad shouldered. The way he looked down at a woman, dainty and beautiful.

More pictures. His-- his sister? Mother?

His arm around the blond man, laughing.

The second packet of pictures--

He also knew himself; not so much because he recognized his face, twisted in agony, slack with compliance, but because he knew that place.

He knew that chair. Those technicians.

He knew…

“Hey Bucky,” someone said from outside the prison. The man from the picture, and the Scarlet Hood.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” The White Wolf snapped, not even knowing why he was speaking after he’d resolved not to talk to these strangers, these spies and enemies with their pictures and their scraps of his life.

“You are,” the Scarlet Hood said, giving him a strange, fae smile, sad and wistful and longing all at once. “Until they took you away from us and made you into this thing. You’re our friend.”

“You’re my mission!”

“Well, you’re not going to get to finish it,” the man said. “Come on, Bucky, you know me--”

The White Wolf snarled at them.

The Scarlet Hood waved one hand, red smoke appearing between her fingers. “I have him, Captain,” she said.

“I’d hoped this wasn’t necessary,” the man -- this Captain -- said.

“You knew that it probably was,” she replied.

The smoke wrapped around him, holding the White Wolf steady, immovable, and the Captain jumped into the pit with him, needle in one hand. He jabbed the syringe into the White Wolf’s neck.

“Go to sleep, Buck,” he said. “We’ll take care of you. The way you always took care of me.”

In the haze that was a mix of narcotics and sedatives, muscle relaxers and something else, the White Wolf couldn’t quite identify just from the taste it left in the back of his mouth, the face looked familiar.

He knew this man.

This woman,

He knew them.

“Stevie?”

The world fell into darkness and the White Wolf was swept away with it.

[anonil88]

“This isn't prison break.”parts 1 & 2

Rue runs away for a night from rehab with a bunch of people she doesn't know. They go to a club, do some stupid stuff and adopt a cat.

wrote this and put it on AO3- lnk here- but also updating on here:

PART 1

Rue laughs absently at the other group of "degenerates" as Ali would call them. They are walking along the side of the road towards wherever a kid named Malcolm was leading them. She technically was supposed to be in her small dorm bed asleep and awaiting 4 am check in. But instead here she was being a fellow degenerate who had technically escaped the rehab facility. They all intended on going back to the treatment facility eventually. She hopes Sol would even though it meant they probably would be separated. They all just needed a night of more because everyone was on edge and needed a break. Everyone was aware that the consequences would be getting kicked out or all restrictions taken away. But, fuck it.

Her group of acquaintances, because they were not her friends, was made up of a random assortment of folks. One of which was some guy named Graham who was apparently the older "brother" of Angel. Angel was the only one out of the group besides her roommate who actually knew more than whatever she half assed in group therapy. Which was very little but it was enough to keep them.... interested. Rue shoves her hands in the pockets of a pair of baggy shorts that Angel threw at her in a parking lot after everyone met back up. Their escape plan was a plan but they all booked it through a hole in the fence and through a patch of woods at first. Some person named Bones, who had to at least be a sophomore in college, picked them all up in a hatchback and the Graham who opened a backpack filled with vices.

Rue steered clear of the opiates and went straight for the bottle of Coconut Rum. Even though she could practically hear the pills singing her fucking name. Most of them actually opted to be clean of whatever landed them in rehab but not sober. Not everyone though because Angel was definitely rolling a tiny bit and so were two other people out of the 5 fence jumpers. Including her roommate Sol. Rue just figured the slap on the wrist once they got back would be less harsh without a positive test. The rum was more than enough to stay kind of alert amongst everyone here. All these faces that might leave her dying face down in a ditch if she OD’ed....again.

She wasn't even in here because of an overdose. Just a basic relapse that made her mom's mind up for her and now she was forced into a stupid facility with strangers. They forced her to talk, made sure she ate, but she honestly felt worse being inside than out. It was probably working the 12 steps and quiet therapy sessions but in places she didn't see yet. This right here though the warmth of the air touching her skin as the packed car they'd all tumbled into hurtled through empty streets. Leaning her head back she mumbles along the lyrics while Sol pulls at the worn shirt collar. 

 "Beep beep go swerving in my, Beep been you want me riding in your...."

Rue sighs feeling sticky lips press against her clavicle and up her neck.

 "Beep beep ghost busting in my,

 Beep beep you want me riding in your....driving super fast."

Sol was cool people but Rue knew it couldn't be anything more than fooling around. Kissing when no one was watching or either of them came back from a therapy session sobbing.  Sometimes Sol sneaking into her bed at night so they could have quickie sex sessions. This wasn't how Rue expected to explore her sexuality that was pretty dormant but it was what she had. It also wasn't with who she had in mind either. Lingering feelings aside the two of them were stuck in a juvenile inpatient program. With the same beds as the ones in college pamphlets, a no shoelace rule, and  fuzzy socks ( that Rue secretly loves). This girl was like 3 inches shorter than Rue, dark skinned, neck tattoos and a short cut. Sol had been through so much more shit than Rue and it made her feel ungrateful. Ungrateful because at least she had a hard working mom who still loved her and hadn't abandoned all hope. Other people in the program who took it seriously though told her not to because her life sucked too.

Feeling Sol's lips on hers she kissed her back. She didn't feel anything but it must have felt amazing to Sol who deepened the kiss. The car swerved past what in Rue's mind had to be a pothole. Sol falls away further into her body clutching the fabric of her shirt and accidentally her chest. Rue hears Sol sigh and snaps her eyes open while Sol still kisses her. Rue grabs hold of the handle above the door and sits back up mumbling, what was that. She watches Sol roll her eyes and sit back into the tan seats.

"Oh FUCK," Bones yelled slowing the car down and pulling over. Bones had their black hair slicked all the way back and a cigarette falling out of their mouth. They were odd enough sober and everyone's dd, just a ball of chaotic a.d.d they'd laughed at her earlier as they walked her from the gas station bathroom back to the car. It was a nice gesture because apparently she seemed "kind of uncomfortable," which was true. The urge to escape herself dulled the fear of her mother's true unbridled anger. Or Fez's.

He was really upset when he found out she got a new plug after actually being clean for so long. She turns to look out the back window and sees two green eyes attached to a small grey mound in the road. 

"What the....omg a cat omg," Angel is practically bouncing out of the car after pulling out a half eaten filet o fish. Rue watches him in an outfit she felt fit him so much more than the basic t-shirt and sweatpants he wore everyday. His platform sneakers lit up across the black asphalt as he inches  closer to the obviously terrified animal. A glitter covered arm wove in front of him with food and Rue leans into the window in anticipation. The only thing that could make Angel seem even more angelic was wings or a halo above his half platinum half silver hair. He honestly seemed like the type to fit right into Jules's friend group. But instead he was the kind creative rave kid who drew her pictures of kandy he'd give her one day. 

"Hey um...you ," she feels her shoulder being tapped. "Put this in your lap."

PART 2

"Yes! I love this song," Bones yells back rolling down the windows. The cool autumn air filling the car and the smell of weed being blown out the window. 

Her heel is bouncing with a mix of anxiety and anticipation. With one more she could become triple A instead of alcoholics anonymous. She can feel a comfortable softness against her sole. It's from a piece of fabric she keeps stuffed in her sock. Her knee keeps bouncing in place with the sleeping kitten being stroked by Sol in her lap. Her current reality is so much more serene than the one she relives in her head.

Arrival nurses took her hoodie at this new place only letting it stay with her the first night. She was so fucking high on check in that she screamed please don't take my dad please as they explained it to her mom. Her mom who she clung to like they were about to skin her alive. Chest rising and falling quick enough someone said something about a shot. Too high to be cold and distant but not enough for her heart to stop. Just enough to be a paranoid fuck up. Leslie tried to calm her down but it only worked after her mom bargained with them, one night.

One night and then her mom visited the next day to say goodbye. Slipping a gray square in her pocket. It was worn in from a t-shirt that her dad wore in her baby pictures. Leslie hugged her so tight before leaving whispering we love you so much. That was the last time she'd seen her mom and every time she called Leslie said oh rue like her heart was breaking again. So those phone calls were short because her mom crying always fucks her up mentally for a few days. The silent pauses remind her of the little sister who always has faith in her but is turning into someone who doesn't even look at her. 

"You okay," Sol whispers and rue nods because when was she ever. Her arm that sol is resting on is cramping but she lets it, not much arm space in this back row anyway. She should have just chosen the trunk with some 16 year old named Zach. 

"On the left yesss we made it and on time too," Graham jeers next to Sol.

 Rue looks at the dash clock crinoline her brow. "How is almost 1 am on time," she whispers. 

Sol chuckles, "It is a club not a house party you knew that right ?" Rue bites the inside of her lip and shakes her head no. Sol puckers a bottom lip and kisses her cheek. Great pity Rue thinks. Sol leans in to whisper to Rue, "Don't worry Graham knows the bouncer. No fakes required."

Rue opens back up the glass bottle in the seat net and lets the clear liquid burn her throat a bit. Out of her realm was an understatement, house parties were something she was used to but never clubs. She didn't even know what kind of club this was but judging from the giant rainbow flag out front, angry repressed frat bros wouldn't be an issue. Which helped the nerves in her stomach unwind. The fur ball on her lap made a noise and she rubbed it through the sweater it's been laid on. Sol said the kitten was probably dumped because there was a tag scar and the kitten was super clean. But was she risking it....no.

Sol takes the bottle from her hand and screws the cap back on. "You gonna dance with me tonight Benny." Sol says as she nudges her shoulder.

"Maybe," Rue shrugs.

" Okay well how about anyone else," Sol grins coyly.

Rue looks away from her and out the window. She's more interested in the brick building as they get closer than someone's hot sweaty body. There's a line to the door with several guards standing with gloved hands and flashlights. " Idk maybe," Rue looks back at Sol who is rolling her eyes. 

" Yes she is," Angel yells from the passenger seat. He's checking his makeup in the mirror and winks at rue. Which makes her tuck her hair behind her ear and cough to cover the blush. Angel turns around happily and says, "meee.'

Leaning forward Sol pecks Angel and says, " Bennett your goal tonight is to have fun, dance with someone. He, she, they, who cares, maybe you'll get a lil prison pen pal."

Rue rolls her eyes, that probably wasn't happening but it was about trying new experiences. Treatment was also not prison; it just was not freedom either. Bones pulls past the entrance and swings into the parking lot. Graham is behind them pointing as they follow directions. He's even saying fun facts like this is Knott's which Angel keeps mimicking. Bones slowly moves the car  until  one guard leans his hand in the window. The guard daps Graham up and they laugh for a second. His name is apparently DJ and he's their in. The only rules are no weapons. 

In the parking lot they all get put and Rue notices other cars with clusters of people around them. She shakes her lap free of cigarette ash and cat hair. The cat now named sparkle is being in the trunk with a makeshift bed, a small can of tuna Bones just had and an old bottle lid filled with water. Rue leans down and ties the mismatched dollar store laces on her chucks. They had hot dogs on them which was kind of cute. A tire squeals close by of a car obviously moving way too fast and drunk singing out a window speeds past them. Idiots. Everyone else was finishing a shared bottle or blunt. Leaning against the side of the trunk she feels Sol rest against her arm warming it up.

Rue can hear a steady thump and beat coming from the brick building. It makes her head move which means the music might not be her thing but it'll be tolerable. Graham even said there's another section with actual seats that has a more contained dance floor with pop and hip-hop. Just in case she got overwhelmed by the rave scene and the lights. She doubles over as she laughs at Angel's jokes. 

Kid was fucking hilarious, she stands up wiping her eyes and freezes looking in front of her.