#i just have to focus on the nice people <- said through gritted teeth

[kiddokori]

customer service is half reveling in the joy of humanity and the small connections we make every day with those around us and half holding myself back from calling people idiots to their faces

[undercovercameron]

same person, same mistakes

summary: coming home from college, you see the boy you never wanted to; and he's the same as he always was.

notes: i just wrote this literally so quick it was magical... there is rough sex, cheating, a semi-choking kink (as always), and mentions of drug use and literal alcohol use in this one! i'm also yet again noticing a pattern.... what is with me and bathroom sex? anyways i hope you people enjoy! consider this a favor, i'm preparing you all for rafe to have a love interest

tags: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 2929

When you walked into the country club that night, you made a beeline for the bar. Your first year of college had not been treating you well, and you needed a drink. A strong one at that. 

Your favorite bartender, a red-headed woman named Joey, was working that night. She made you a vodka soda just like how you liked ‘em: more vodka than soda and a shit ton of lime. An underage-drinking staple. But hey, you were only two years away from legality. It wasn’t that bad. 

You drank it with your younger brother Landon by your side at the bar, watching him refresh Twitter for the status reports of the hockey game happening tonight. 

“You want the NHL, Landon?” Joey asked, wiping up a ring of perspiration with a black rag at the now-empty tabletop to his right. “I can change it.”

“Yes, Joey, thank you,” Landon sighed, pocketing his phone, and swiveled around in his chair towards the TV mounted beside the bar. “Hey,” he said abruptly, and you hummed curiously in response. “Rafe is here.”

You crunched down onto the ice cube in your mouth, the easy smile on your lips hardening.

“Who is he with?” You ask, not turning to look, and focus in on the stack of paper coasters next to the mixing pads. 

“Dunno. Some girl. She has black hair.”

The grip on your drink tightens. 

“Nice,” you say through gritted teeth, gaze never wavering from the coasters. 

Yes, Rafe Cameron had a girlfriend. She was some hotshot golfer from Northern Carolina. You saw her in your communications lecture sometimes, sitting in the front row next to her posse of badly self-tanned girls with shining smiles and alcohol problems. She had sat next to you on the first day, passing you the syllabus with a snarky look on her face, and you had decided to hate her right then and there. It was a simple hatred, nothing personal, but when she came back to the Outer Banks with Rafe’s hand in hers, it got personal. 

Rafe was your highschool fling. He used to pick you up from school in his truck and you’d go out to the lighthouse or the beach by his house or his grandparents' summer home fifteen minutes away to hang out, have sex, or smoke. Usually all three. You two dated for nearly 10 months starting at the first semester of your senior year, and then he decided to break it off and focus on being a good son and good employee of his father’s. Whatever. Like he actually did anything of the sort— all he’d done while you were at college was hold his hand out to his father and snort coke with your hometown’s dealer. 

And then he has a girlfriend. A beautiful girlfriend, but you’d never admit it. You wonder if she has a cocaine problem too. 

You weren’t averse to drugs, no—in fact, you had a J with your breakfast nearly every day. But at least you weren’t dropping hundreds of dollars for fifteen minutes of a high every week. And at least you weren’t distracting yourself between the legs of a tall black-haired student athlete. 

Maybe you were bitter. 

“Two more,” says a breathless voice at the end of the bar, and you just let your eyes fall closed. Landon slaps at your arm without pulling his eyes from the TV, and you curse at him with a smack back. Asshole. 

“Y/N?”

You breathe in through your nose. Okay. Don’t act like you recognize him. 

You turn towards Rafe, a pleasantly blank look on your face, and purse your lips. 

“Hi.”

“Hey.” His perfectly tan face splits in a grin, and he comes around the corner of the bar towards you two. “Hey, Landon.” He daps up your brother, that stupid look still on his face, and just stands and looks at you for a second. He puts his hands on his hips, and your gaze follows them for a second before moving back up to his face, whip-fast. You see him catch it, the corners of his lips tugging up further. He sighs. “I see the Xanax finally caught up to you.”

“Ha!” You blurt loudly, a mocking smile on your face, and you look down to your feet. “That’s actually pretty ironic, sweetheart. You’ve got a little something.” You look him in his eyes and wipe at your nostril. The grin drops from his face. 

“Nice to see you again.” His tongue pushes at the spot between his teeth and his lip. “Just like old times. Still a bitch.”

“Still wasting your dad’s money.” You sip at your drink, lips around the straw. You catch him glance at them. Ha. Gotcha. “How’s, uh, Betsy King, over there?”

The black haired girl is sitting on the deck with her back to the bar, watching the hockey game on an outdoor TV. You watch her hair move in the wind for a moment, hating it. 

“Easier than you, believe or not.” Rafe stares at you. You snort. This is fun, you suppose. Just like old times, like he said. Biting conversation and secret glances at each others’ mouths. 

“Two whiskey sours?” Calls Joey from the end of the bar, eyebrows drawn when she doesn’t see her patron. Rafe glances back at you, chewing at his lip, but decides against whatever he was going to say. He just walks over and grabs his drinks and disappears back outside. You suck at the straw of your drink, coming up empty, and drop it onto the counter. Your head is buzzing. From the liquor, yes, but also from him. He makes you so angry—so stupidly and embarrassingly angry. That stupid face and stupid smile and stupid hair and stupid boat shoes. 

“That was nice,” says Landon, still focused on the TV, but you see his head turn slightly when you sigh. 

“Sorry.” You are, really. You’re supposed to be on your best behavior; it’s not every day your parents let you take your 16 year old brother to the country club to sit and watch you get drunker and drunker.

“Yeah.” He sounds annoyed, and you feel embarrassed.

You drain two more vodka sodas and call it a night. You spend your time staring at the array of liquors and mixers beneath you at the bar, making small talk with Joey about the island, and numbly watch the hockey players beat each other to death. Rafe comes back in for another drink an hour after your conversation, but you just ignore his eyes on your profile. 

“I’m gonna go pee, and then we’ll leave.” You heave yourself off of the stool, wincing at your sore ass, and nearly stumble. Shit. 

Landon says “okay”, eyes on his phone and texting, and you hobble towards the bathroom on steady feet. You avoid looking outside, knowing it will only aggravate you. 

The bathroom door slams behind you, too heavy for its own good, and the motion sensor lights kick on. You pee, staring up at the ceiling, and try to will away the pounding in your head and rippling vision. 

You scrub your hands after, desperate to rid them of the dirt and grime of your day, and try not to think about how you wish you could wash Rafe out of your life. You stare at yourself in the mirror with a paper towel between your hands. 

The girl in the mirror looks tired. You poke a finger at a pimple on your forehead, frowning. You just sigh. 

You turn towards the door and wrench it open, the smell of restaurant and something musky filling your nose before you step out, and you barely get a foot out the door. Two hands push at your abdomen, eerily familiar, and you stumble back into the bathroom with your eyebrows drawn in confusion. 

Rafe clouds your vision and your smell, hard chest at eye-level, and he reaches behind him to lock the door. 

You stare up at him, chest heaving and he looks down at you with those stormy eyes. 

“You’re aggravating, you know that?” He says, sounding exasperated, and seizes your waist in one large hand, pulling you to him. His mouth finds yours, familiar, and you feel his fingers on your warm cheek. You hate to admit it but your heart thumps loudly in your chest when you taste him. 

His other arm snakes around your hips and grabs at your ass. You fall into the hard counter of the sink vanity, and you hum pleasantly. 

“What about—about her?” You barely pull away to say, breathless, and he just pulls you back to him with his with strong fingers entwined in your hair. 

“Up,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you brace a hand on the sink and obey. He pushes between your legs and your arms wind around his neck. You just breathe each other in, blood pounding, pressed up against each other. 

Your fingers find the hem of his shirt, and you push it up to feel his skin. He’s hot. Your fingers crawl up his abdomen and press to the center of his stomach, feeling it heave and push against your fingertips. He nearly flinches away at your cold fingers but is drawn closer when you make a noise into his mouth that reminds him of that time in the lighthouse where you had left with bruises around your neck and he with an ache in his hips. His hair is smooth when you drag a hand up to feel it, newly blunt and choppy. You like it all the same. 

His body has grown and matured while you’ve been gone. His shoulders are stronger, bulkier, and when you feel the flesh of his stomach it feels more alive. Like he’s been moving and working hard while you were gone. Maybe he has been. With her. 

You pull away at the thought. He chases you, fingers at your jaw, but you back up into the wall. He licks at his lips, a dangerous look in his eyes. He doesn’t like when he doesn’t get what he wants. 

“What’s her name?” You ask. He removes himself from your grasp, backing away. He drags a hand through his hair. When his eyes meet yours, his eyebrows are drawn and his lips screwed up as he chews at his lip. 

“Allison.”

“Do you love her?”

He barks out a laugh when you ask, hands pressed to the counter on either side of you, head bowed. 

“Love? Are you insane?” He looks back up at you, shaking his head. He heart skips a beat when he thinks of you two in high school, and then he thinks he might be insane. 

“Well, I’m currently in a family bathroom at the Island Club with you, so maybe.” You try a smile, but it falls when your eyes meet again. He thinks for a second. 

“You’d be in here with me even if I was fucking married to that girl.” He watches your expression change from somber to disbelieving. 

“You think?” Your eyebrows raise, incredulous, and watch as he nears you again and bows down to your eye level. You like to think you’re not the affair-woman. Well, you guess you might be. 

“I know so. Why do you think I told your brother to get you to come tonight?” His lips curl into a smirk. 

You just stare at him. Manipulative, psychotic, deranged, possessive. He’s all of the above and more. He slipped the idea into your goody-two-shoes 16 year old brother’s head to bring you to a bar and fuck him, and it makes your heart drop to your stomach. 

You grab at the collar of his shirt and tug him down to you. Your mouths connect with a hot breath into his mouth, and you arch up into him. His hands find your lower back and he drags you further from the wall, letting you carefully slide on the granite and fall onto your back. 

His large hands fumble with your pants, popping the buttons, and you crane your neck to watch as he tugs them down your legs, panties following with a slip of his thumb. He ducks to kiss you again and you hear his belt jingle. His fingers tug your shirt up and over your bra, and he grabs at a breast tightly as he jerks you down once more and pushes his dick into you. 

You cry out, fingers on his cheekbone, and arch up into him. He just hums into your mouth, liking the feeling of your muscles straining around him, and it feels just as good as it used to. Just as beautiful as you’ve always been. 

“Rafe,” you start, a breath caught in your throat. His nose brushes yours and he looks into your wide eyes. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Rafe’s head falls, and he groans into your neck. Fuck, you’re so hot. 

He grips your hips tight and pulls you away and then back, hips colliding with yours and prompting a pained noise from your mouth. He relishes in it. 

He slaps a hand at the wall above your head, using it as tension, and his hips move along with yours like they’re supposed to. It’s an uncoordinated dance, soft flesh rippling against hard muscle, and he pants into your mouth with the strain. 

“You feel so good,” he groans into your ear, and you squeeze around him in response. “Fuck.”

“Please,” you mumble, lips pressed haphazardly against his stubbly cheek. He smells so good. You curl an arm around his head, fingers brushing past his hair, and hold his head down by yours. 

The bathroom is loud with breaths and the sounds your bodies make, lewd and hurried. He huffs into your neck when he feels a pinch in his back and adjusts you further from the wall quickly. Nearly your entire ass is hanging off of the edge, precarious, but you know he won’t let you drop. His fingers around your back fall and he pushes his hand between your legs, seeking what you know he’s always been good at paying attention to. His large thumb finds your clit immediately, strumming you open, and your head falls back.

“You’re on the pill still?” He asks, fingers tight, and you close your eyes.

“Implant,” you say, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck, Rafe,” you nearly cry, but slap a hand over your mouth. His thumb strokes you in quick circles, and you’re cumming onto him embarrassingly quickly. Your abdomen tenses and you curl up into him. You feel your legs warm and you tighten them around his back, wanting him deeper as you fade into pleasure.

He grins at that, but it fades when his eyes squeeze shut and he’s bowing to touch his forehead to your chest. He bites at the bunched-up material of your shirt and pushes himself as deep as possible—so far that you can feel the flesh of your stomach move. He cums into you then, the release washing over his whole body and coating him in a sheen, and he nearly collapses on top of you. 

You two catch your breath, still connected, and he pants hot into your neck. 

“Fuck.” You struggle to swallow, nearly choking on an inhale. 

“Yeah.”

He rugs himself from you, wincing, and zips his pants back up. He offers you a hand and you take it, struggling to slide off of the counter and onto your shaky legs. He watches you slide your underwear back on, wiping his mouth, and enjoys the show. You get your pants back up but fumble with the button and zipper. 

“I hate this,” you mumble, eyebrows furrowed, and just give up with a roll of your eyes. 

“Here,” he half-chuckles, and easily zips you up and buttons you with nimble fingers. Fingers you know and love. 

Wait. 

Before you can think about that, he grabs your face in two hands and tilts you up to him, staring at your relaxed features. He admires you. And then he dips to kiss your mouth one final time, savoring how your lips move against him like they’re supposed to. Like they always have. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, breath cool on your lips, and you stare up at him with confused eyes. 

“What’s tomorrow?” 

“I’ll come over.” He shrugs, and reaches to unlock the door. It swings open, and he sweeps a hand to gesture for you to leave first. You pass the threshold, patting down your hair, and lock eyes with Allison when you emerge from the cove that has the entrance to the kitchen and the bathrooms. She looks confused. 

Guilt washes over your body, making your blood prickle at your skin, and you swallow. You walk straight past her piercing gaze, feeling Rafe pass you and go straight for the deck. You grab your jacket from next to Landon and feel for the keys. 

“Let’s go,” you say to your brother, voice quiet, and he nods. He follows you as you exit through the side door, heading for your parent’s SUV. You toss him the keys when you get to the passenger door and he secretly and silently fist pumps. 

“Did you talk to Rafe?”

Landon asks when he gets buckled and starts the engine. You sling the seatbelt over your torso and click it into place. 

“Yeah. He hasn’t changed.” You watch Rafe usher Allison out the side door, hand on her lower back, and you swallow. “Let’s go home.”

[crosshairlovebot]

birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.

word count: 3,793

warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot

Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.

He only had enough to buy something for you.

He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.

He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.

“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.

He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”

You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”

He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.

So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.

Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.

But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.

He really liked having you around.

So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.

He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.

He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.

He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”

Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”

He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tech blinked.

Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.

He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?

Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.

When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.

But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.

He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.

He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.

He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.

Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.

Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.

It puzzled him.

When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”

“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.

Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”

Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”

“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.

He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.

He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”

Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.

Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”

The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”

Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”

The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”

The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”

The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.

After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.

And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.

“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.

Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.

“That’s a good choice.”

Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.

“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.

Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“How much?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s yours.”

Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”

The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”

Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”

Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”

Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”

The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”

Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.

Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.

Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?

Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.

He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.

“Crosshair!”

You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”

“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.

You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”

Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.

“Oh…okay,” you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?

Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.

“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.

“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.

“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”

“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.

“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.

Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.

Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”

All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.

“Crosshair!”

Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.

“Crosshair, wait.”

He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.

“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.

“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.

He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”

He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”

You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.

“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”

Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.

You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”

Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.

“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.

He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”

Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”

You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.

You were his best friend, after all.

You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.

“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.

“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.

He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.

banner art by @vimse

mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3

tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo

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[just-jordie-things]

PLSS DO prompt 3 and 26 with Megumi 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽

my favs yes. yes. yes. also threw in 53 :3 3: Drunk/Sloppy Kiss 26: Jealous Kiss 53: Against A Wall Kiss

**aged up characters!!** ___

megumi didn't get jealous, to make one thing perfectly clear. it was a silly insecurity that he had no business to feel. especially seeing as you weren't his to be jealous of. you were your own person, you could talk to, flirt with, hang out with whoever you so pleased.

what was he supposed to do? walk over to where you were talking to one of yuuji's friends, tell you that you weren't allowed to talk to him, and whisk you off to ensure that for the rest of the night, your attention would be on him and only him? that was pathetic. no, worse, that was toxic.

but from his spot on the couch, he could see clearly through the crowd of people at this lame house party that you actually seemed... happy. whoever this guy was, you seemed to be enjoying yourself. smiling, laughing, leaning in close to hear what he had to say when the music got a little too loud. he took a swig of his drink, barely even wincing as the bitter liquid went down. he wasn't normally a drinker, he usually only came to these things because you asked him too.

(yuuji and nobara did too, but it was only when you'd latch onto his arm and tell him how much fun he'd have. you'd give him your best pouting face and it was actually quite terrible but he was so amused by it and so enamored by you that he'd give into anything you asked)

and now here he was, with a nearly passed out yuuji on the sofa behind him, nobara was off dancing with a bunch of strangers, and you were chatting with this... guy.

"hey," megumi gently prodded the side of yuuji's head until the boy's eyes fluttered, displaying at least a little consciousness. "who's that guy?"

"heh?" yuuji squinted one eye open, keeping the other closed for some semblance of darkness to sleep through.

the party was in full swing, with flashing colors from the led strips all around the house, the music blasting was heavy in bass, and anyone talking had to holler to hear one another. and yet, yuuji cursed megumi for disturbing his rest.

"that guy," megumi repeats, nodding his head to where you were. "who is that?"

"talking to (y/n/n)?" yuuji rubbed the back of his head as he tried to focus his vision on you. "woah, she likes him, huh?" he let out a whistle as he watched the way your body language said more than he needed to know.

megumi's teeth grit as he glared back at his friend.

"that's todd. or tom. might be tom. thomas sounds right," yuuji struggled to put a name to the guy's face, and shrugs his shoulders. "think we had a couple classes together. don't remember him much. think he was nice though"

"you think he was nice?" megumi's brows furrow in displeasure. he casts another glance towards you.

this time, you catch his gaze, and you send him a beam as your eyes meet, but the moment is short lived, as you're turning back to todd or tom.

"i dunno," yuuji yawned, stretching his arms about his head as he settled back into the couch cushion. "(y/n/n's) fine though. so if you're so jealous, you should probably just do something about it"

" 's not like that" megumi mumbles, deciding to turn around and face forward on the sofa so he didn't have to watch you flirt and be flirted with any longer.

"i think it's kinda like that" yuuji's head rolls to it's side so he can give his friend a look.

megumi frowns, but doesn't say anything else on the matter. he'd like to go home now, but he can't ditch any of you. so he figures it's a night of pouting on this couch with only alcohol to soothe him.

yuuji's head falls to his shoulder, and his soft snoring is audible.

alcohol and yuuji, he corrects himself mentally.

before he can get too lost in his bitter thoughts, a pair of hands plant themselves on his shoulders from behind, and he tilts his head back to see none other than you leaning over the back of the couch, grinning down at him.

"want me to save you?" you tease, eyes flickering over to the sleeping yuuji.

megumi smiles at how you even look pretty when he's looking at you upside down.

"please" he replies, and you sound the couch, only to gab him by the arm and insist he follow you.

"good, cause i missed you. i wondered where you went" you told him as he carefully got up in the hopes of not waking up your sleeping friend. you both chuckle as yuuji seemingly has no issue staying asleep.

you have a drink in one hand and the other is wrapped around megumi's elbow in order to keep him close while you guide him through the crowded house.

"what was this party for again?" megumi asks, tossing his empty cup into a trash as you walked past. there were countless cups among the mess of the floors already, but he just couldn't bring himself to abandon his trash like that, even if he was intoxicated.

"i think it was someone's birthday," you ponder as you pull him into the kitchen so you can both make a fresh drink. "originally, anyways," you continue as you shovel ice into two cups. "but word got around it was at a big house, someone said they could get booze, and now here we are"

you loosely gesture to the crowded, trashed space around you. talk about crashing a party, megumi thinks. he can smell the tobacco and pot in the air, and judging by all the trash on the ground, whosever birthday it was, would surely have one hell of a morning tomorrow.

when he looks back at you, you hand him one of the cups with a sweet smile, before taking the other for yourself.

"are you having a good time?" you ask, leaning your back into the counter as you take a tentative sip of your drink. it might've been a little stronger than your last, but you could use some liquid courage.

"yeah, one friend passed out on me and the others ditched me to go find hookups" megumi replied honestly.

you gape at him in mock offense.

"i did not go looking for a hookup!" you argue, smacking your free hand against his chest. "what made you think that?"

"i dunno, probably that guy you were flirting with" he replies. he's smirking at you partially because a blush is starting to bloom across your cheeks, but his lip twitches with some other emotion you don't recognize on him.

"ted?" you laugh, and megumi's brow furrows.

"so you admit to flirting with him?" he asks, raising his cup to take a long drink.

"i admit to no such thing!" you laugh at him while you shake your head. "i was friends with his sister in grade school, he was telling me about how she's studying abroad in france right now," you explain, before raising a brow at him. "not that i owe you an explanation," you add, leaning in closer to him and tilting your head. "but if you're so jealous you must know, that is all we talked about"

"tch," the alcohol in his system was strong enough that it gave him the confidence to hold your stare. "so he was flirting with you then?"

you pause for a moment, unsure of what to tell him. truthfully? yeah, ted tried to lay some lines on you. did you respond to it? no, but he wasn't a creep, and you didn't really care.

"maybe" you shrug a shoulder, your eyes locked on his, trying to read the odd expression he wore.

megumi had never shown any signs of jealousy. he'd never said anything to you to make you think it would bother him if you were flirting with anyone. and you did find it a little funny, because he was so irritated and reserved all the time that you didn't think he could feel pesky things like jealousy.

but on the other hand... it excited you.

megumi was clearly annoyed that you were giving your attention to that guy, and whatever his reasoning was, it had your heart racing with anticipation to figure it out.

"but it's a party," you speak again. "a lot of people come here just to flirt and find a hookup"

"that so?" megumi raises a brow at you.

so with a puff of your chest and a bright smile, you nod back at him.

"it is," you confirm. "in fact i think i'll go chat with him some more" you declare, and megumi rolls his eyes, calling your bluff.

but sure enough you're heading off towards ted again, a saunter in your hips and a gleam in your eye as you approach him. megumi stands in the kitchen, his hand tense around his drink, keeping a watchful glare on the two of you.

he can't hear what's being said, but he can read body language pretty well. so once you're giggling and laying your hand on ted's arm, he's decided he's had enough of the little charade.

next thing he knows he's throwing back the rest of his drink and stalking over to the both of you.

upon his approach you give him a pretty smile, but ted completely pales as he watches the taller, angry looking boy come to stand behind you, his hand wrapping around your hip and pulling you into him in one fluid motion.

"megumi!" you cheer as though you hadn't seen him all night. your eyes hadn't left him since he'd approached you, but he didn't notice. his eyes were too focused on ted.

he bore no expression, but somehow it was worse than a nasty glare. ted winced at your new company.

"megumi, this is ted," you introduce, pretending to ignore the awkward tension that had just been created. "ted, megumi" you finish, gesturing between them.

"uh, hi-" ted sticks his hand out in an attempt to be polite, or maybe just to diffuse the tension, but megumi's pulling you away without a word, leaving the man standing alone with his hand still outstretched.

his stride is fast as he practically drags you alongside him. you're not sure where he's taking you, but you don't protest in the slightest as you follow along.

"well i thought he was nice" you remark, a coy smile curling on your lips.

"you're being ridiculous," megumi mutters, finally stopping you both in a hallway that wasn't as crowded as the rest of the house, so you could at least hear each other speak. "is that why you wanted me to come? so you could walk around and- and-"

"make you jealous?"

you lean back against the wall, folding your hands behind your back as you grin up at him.

"i'm not jealous" megumi rolls his eyes.

"you dragged me off like you were jealous" you shrug nonchalantly.

"well i wasn't"

"and if he gave me his number?" you tested, tilting your head at him challengingly. "would you still not be jealous?"

"he didn't" megumi replies as casually as he could.

"but if he had?" you ask, leaning on the tips of your toes to be closer to him, just to make your point. you watch as his eyes flicker between your own, then down to your lips, then back to your eyes.

he turns to look away, but just to his luck, there's ted, standing just across the room, and his eyes are perfectly glued to you. that is, until they see megumi's caught him red handed, and suddenly he's interested in the floorboards.

megumi scoffs, shaking his head, before looking back down to you.

you're still trying to be a tease, and he's about had enough of this whole party.

his hands are firm as he places them against the wall on either side of your head, leaning over you and caging you in quickly, just to make his point.

your eyes are wide now as you watch him, curious to see what he'd do next, your heart racing in your chest.

"he's still watching you," he mutters, lowly, and with more bitterness than you've ever heard him speak with before. your brows crinkle, starting to feel just a little bad for upsetting megumi this much.

you thought it'd be fun to mess with him just a little, maybe in the hopes of getting him to flirt with you a little bit, but you'd never imagined he'd react like this.

"you're here with me, and he's still got his eyes on you"

you offer him a small smile at his words, and then you're reaching out to him, your arms hanging loosely over his shoulders, before you bring your hands into his hair. your movements are slow as you begin to curl an unruly strand of hair around your fingers.

you draw closer to him, so close your nose almost collides with his, and your breathing is a little shaky against his lips before you speak.

"and i'm here with you" you repeat his words back to him softly.

megumi's eyes flicker between yours wildly, as this was completely new territory for the two of you. in a huff, he turns his head to see if your shadow is still lingering across the room, but you're quick to take hold of his chin between your thumb and forefinger, turning his attention back to you.

he licks his lips nervously.

once you're the center of his focus again, a small smile lifts on your lips, before you're tilting forward and capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

it's quick, over just as soon as it began, but it leaves him bewildered, wide eyed as you pull away and stand flat again. only a second passes before he's seizing forward to kiss you again, his hands coming off the wall to hold the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair as your lips meet his passionately, and a bit drunkenly.

you forget your surroundings completely as you pull him against you until your back is against the wall and he's completely pressed into you. still, you continue to tug and pull him closer as your lips map each other out sloppily. you're panting in between them, both of your hands flying about, wanting to touch and grab at every part of each other you could reach.

had you been sober, you would have been so embarrassed by this public display, but the thought doesn't even cross your mind. in fact, you hum in utter delight as megumi eventually wraps his hands under your thighs, and lifts you against the wall so that you were at an even height with him, making it easier to kiss you. ithe house may have been stuffy, but his body is hot against yours in a way you enjoy just a little too much.

"i didn't know you got so jealous," you sigh out while megumi unashamedly begins to kiss down the column of your throat. "we should-" you're cut off by your own lack of your breath as his mouth works delicately over the full explains of your throat. "we should go to parties more often"

"absolutely fucking not" megumi mutters into your skin, but he seems to relax again as you comb your hands into his hair, tilting his head back and admiring how swollen his lips look.

you smile at him lazily before you're drawn together like a magnet and your lips are crashing together again. your hands are moving so wildly through his hair it's somehow more messed up than normal, and you both delight in the feeling.

"oh shit," a familiar voice snaps you both out of your lust-blinded haze, and you release megumi's bottom lip from your teeth with an audible pop! as you both turn to see nobara standing (well, staggering) before you.

she let's out a giggle of amusement, her eyes crinkling and her grin drunken.

"i didn't know you guys were together?" her words are slurred, but she doesn't seem all that shocked, or weirded out to catch her friends furiously making out with each other.

"uh... surprise?" you say weakly, adjusting one of your legs around megumi's hip to get more comfortable.

nobara nods, and gives you wobbly thumbs up.

"yuuji's asleep on the lawn," she tells you the reason she'd come looking for you both. "i'm gettin' us water and snacks for the walk back. meet out there in ten?"

"uh," megumi blinks rapidly to try and clear his mind enough to understand the new information and plan. "yeah, yeah that's fine"

"a'ight, see you out there lovebirds" nobara clicks her tongue and then disappears in search of the sustenance.

you and megumi turn back to each other, frozen for a moment before breaking out into grins and laughter.

"so, ten more minutes?" you suggest.

"yep"

his grip under your legs tightens as your lips meet again, this time even more hurried than the last, since you had a passed out friend to carry home soon. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[bloodwrittenballad]

Bobby’s Got It Goin’ On | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Jake takes it too far, you step in

Warnings: Smut, oral (reader receiving, bc in my mind, bob is a pussy eating king!) fingering, consensual groping, blowjob in a car (0/10, do not recommend doing this) protected sex because!!! it’s a must!!! swearing, lil tad bit of angst, sexism? Hangman being, well, himself. Also, I suck at titles and summaries 🙃 18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. And please, let me know what you thought! Reblogs and comments are so very appreciated and help us fic writers <3 Xoxo, Parker

If there was one thing you knew for certain about Jake Seresin, it was that he had a loud fuckin mouth. And quite the talent at opening it at the wrong fuckin times. Like now, for instance. You and the crew were all at The Hard Deck, hanging out and celebrating getting through another long work week. Things were going well, you found yourself perched next to Bob, as the two of you made easy conversation.

You liked Bob, a lot. How could you not? He was sweet, smart, handsome as ever loving hell… Only issue, was he probably didn’t feel even the slightest bit same for you. That was okay though! Because in the end, you’d rather have a friendship with him than ruin it by telling him how you felt only to be rejected.

It was better this way, regardless of how bad it hurt or how much pestering you’d get from the other squadron members to just confess you feelings.

Pushing back the slightly depressing thoughts, you continued your focus on Bob, who was getting rather animated as he told you a stories from his childhood and teen years. Head thrown back in laughter, you couldn’t help but to gently slap his arm, a habit you had developed over the years and could never quite shake. Most people would have found it annoying, but not Bob. Never him. He found it endearing, plus… he couldn’t deny that the skin to skin contact was nice. You were so soft and warm, so, so… perfect.

Bob continued to blush while you giggled, “wow, Bobby, I never would’ve taken you for such a bad boy!” If his cheeks weren’t already as red as a stop sign, they certainly were now. “I wasn’t! Really! Just a… ya know, had a bit of teen angst, I guess.” Bob muttered, not being able to handle how goddamn beautiful that smile of yours was. “Well, teen angst aside, I think some trouble looks good on you. Kinda rouged. Chicks dig that, ya know.” You spoke with a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes as you thought of him with any other woman than you.

Bob wore his usual lopsided smile as you said that, his skin feeling even warmer now. Jesus, you were so perfect. This moment was so perfect. Until it wasn’t.

Hangman, being the ever present thorn in your side, just had to go and ruin it. “Y’all wanna know what else chicks dig?” He spoke with a shit-eating grin as he plopped down beside you, making himself more than comfortable but not at all welcome. “Not really,” you huffed out through gritted teeth. A devilish smirk blossomed even wider on the blonds face, “chicks dig a man who’s tough and confident, unafraid to take charge and get shit done. Like me, sweet pea.” Jake ended with a wink, something that shouldn’t have pissed you off so much. But it did. He always managed to get under your skin in a way no one else could. He just had that effect on people. Obnoxious.

“Well, maybe some women aren’t into that,” you shot back. “Maybe some of us like a quiet, down to earth, gentleman who doesn’t boast about how supposedly great he is.” Jake barked out a laugh, his eyebrows shooting high up and almost into his hairline. “Damn, girl.” Jake whistled, “ya got fire in you, f’sure. Gotta find the right to manage that. Some prissy, sissy of a man ain’t gonna be able to tame it. Like Bob!” Said person looked up at you sheepishly for the first time since Hangman had crashed your little party. “Bobby here wouldn’t know what t’do with all that you got goin’ on, he uh, he just ain’t built for it.” Okay, so now you weren’t just pissed. You were fucking livid.

“And what the fuck do you know about anything, Bagman? Huh? What’re your qualifications to be making such claims? In fact, when’s the last time any of this macho bullshit actually worked on a woman? Cause ya wanna know what I think? I think you’re just an insecure little boy who acts like he’s gods fuckin’ gift to this world, like he’s got it all goin’ on for him. But you don’t! You can sure as hell act like it, but we all know you don’t. You wanna know who does, though? Bob. Yeah, that’s right. Bobby’s got it goin’ on!” By this point, you had stood up from your seated position so you could feel like you had a bit more of an upper ground, as you glared down at Jake.

Bob, who still hadn’t uttered a peep since Hangman’s interruption, saw how close you were to hitting the man and gently decided it was time to divert from the situation and led you outside. His hand, strong but gentle on the small of your back, guided you throughout The Hard Deck until you both found yourselves under the pale moonlight. “God!” you groaned angrily. “I mean, who the hell does he think he is? Such a prick! Like, I get it, you haven’t been laid in a while but fuck don’t take it out on people who don’t deserve it! It’s just so, so, so fucking frustrating. Aren’t you frustrated? I’m frustrated! No, I’m pissed! Oooh, I’m so pissed. I could go in there right now and punch him right in his stupid f-,” You stopped short in your rant, the pacing you started somewhere along the line coming to a halt.

Bob was just standing there, head bowed, not saying a word. “Bobby?” You whispered gently, mentally cursing yourself for your tangent now when you should’ve been making sure he was okay. Opening your mouth to speak again, Bob cut you off. “Did… did you meant it? W-what you said. I-in there? Or was that just to get Hangman off my back?” The shake in his voice made your heart crack in two, but what truly broke it was the look on his face. So unsure, so pained, so scared that it was all just a big fat lie.

“Bobby, I-” you started, but was once again cut off. “It’s fine, I-I uh, I get it. I do. No hard feelings. But, um, thanks for taking care of Hangman.” Bob went to pass out, presumably to his car so he could get the hell out of there and save himself any further embarrassment for tonight. Before he could make it far, you grabbed his arm, tugging him back towards you and pushing your lips to his. Bob left out a soft whine, immediately melting into the feeling of you.

The kiss was soft, warm, delicate and messy all at once. It was everything you ever dreamed of, it just sucked that the events of tonight were what led up to it. Pulling away, your hands went up to cup his face, locking eyes with his in the compassionate embrace. “I meant every single word, Robby. All that, and so much more.” Bob broke out in a smile, with you following not far behind, before he surged forward and connected your lips once more. This time in a much more needy and demanding kiss, with his and your hands roaming each others bodies.

A soft moan left your lips in a tiny squeak, Bob pulling away with a satisfied grin. “Maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private? Don’t really feel like sharing those noises with anyone else.” You gasped and gently hit his arm, like how you had earlier. “Bobby! You dirty dog! I cant believe you… but yes. Yes. Let’s go, now. Please.” Bob couldn’t help to laugh at the display of utter desperation from you, as he led you to his car. The second you were inside, a full makeout session ensued. You ended up on his lap, albeit with some struggle because his car was tiny, but you made do. Grinding on his growing bulge, you moaned widely, his tongue darting into your mouth. “Fuck, Bobby, take me home. Want you to take me home and fuck me so bad. Will you, please?” You whined and begged, and what kind of man would he be to leave you so needy like this.

After you were safe and secure in the passenger seat, Bob wasted no time on stepping on the gas as he made his way back to his rental. After the mission, many, if not most, of the original crew got a transfer. Yourself included, though unlike Bob, you’re place wasn’t as nice. That didn’t matter though, it was all small details in the end. Because now you not only had the best of friends, but you finally got the guy. And said guy was taking you home to fuck you.

The drive wasn’t long, but damn, did it make you needier. You weren’t sly in the slightest, as you snuck your hand slowly up Bobs thigh, climbing higher and higher, stopping just below where you so desperately wanted to touch. Bob gave you a look, eyebrow quirked, lips in a smirk. “This okay?” you whispered, just to be sure. “More than okay, darling.” He confirmed, and that was more than enough for you to launch your attack. Unbuttoning his pants, you make quick work of pushing down his boxers as far as they would go before his hard and ready cock popped out. Your mouth went agap at the sight, suddenly feeling drool looking at the edges of you lips as you took in the length and size of him. He was huge! “Holy shit, Bobby, you really do got it goin’ on.” And with that, you took him into your mouth.

He couldn’t reach all the way in, so you made due by streaking the rest of him. Occasionally groping his balls, which earned the heavenly sound of his moans. You continued bobbing your head up and down, savoring the taste of him and the way he swore. “F-fuck! Yeah, yeah, just like that. Taking it so well, j-just like a good girl.” You moaned at the praise, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. Then, before you knew it, the car came to an abrupt stop and so did the blowjob, as Bob gently grabbed your cheeks and lifted your head. “As much as I’d love to come in your throat, sweet thing, I’d much rather continue this inside. Where I can really treat you good,” he said with a wink. Oh, god, he was so fucking hot.

The two of you managed to stumble inside, hands never leaving each others bodies as you nipped and sucked at any possible exposed skin, groping and grinding and messy as he led you to his bed and practically tossed you on to it. By the time you made it to his bedroom, both of you were almost fully nude, aside from the underwear you wore. Which were fully soaked now, by the way. And damn, did Bob enjoy the sit. Sinking down to his knees on the floor, Bob grabbed your legs and scooted you forward so your ass hung over the bed almost completely. “Fuck, s’wet f’me,” he mumbled against the skin of your thighs, your ankles now hanging over his shoulders.

He worked his way up, pressing kisses to the soft skin, loving the way you moaned and begged for me. “You want my mouth or my fingers, darling?” He asked, and the smirk he wore when you screamed, “both!” only widened. “If it’s both you want, baby, then it’s both you’ll get.” And with that, your panties were gone in a flash as he tore them off and dove right in. “FUCK!” you moaned loudly, your hands frantically clutching the bedsheets. “Yes, yes, yes! Oh, right there! Fuck yes!” He’d barely begun, still only using his tongue, as he lapped at you like a man starved. It was heavenly, the warmth of his tongue and the speed at which it tortured you with bliss.

Minutes, maybe even hours, fuck who knows how long went by with him in between your thighs, just licking and sucking and slurping at what you had to offer before he asked if you wanted his fingers yet. Of course you had screamed yes again, but it was all garbled and mumbled from the pleasure you felt. Bob chucked between you, the vibration a heavenly feeling on your clit. The added sensation of not just one, but two fingers prodding at your sensitive hole had your mind swimming in pure ecstasy. You knew you were close, and his fingers speeding in and out of you mixed with his tongue on your clit only brought on that freeing feeling. Bob must’ve felt the way you clenched around him, the way your thighs shook, and masterfully continued his work. Drilling his fingers inside of you and bringing your clit to rest in between his puckered lips had you exploding into a dazzling glow of orgasm you’ve never felt before.

Bob stayed between your thighs, fingers slowing down as he coaxed you through your orgasm. Once he knew you were good, he gently pulled his fingers out and tapped your thigh in a way of telling you “good job”. Climbing back onto the bed, he smiled down at your fucked out figure. The way your eyes were glazed over, your naked chest rising and falling. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and he was so lucky he got to be the one to do it. You smiled back at him, before slowly getting up so you sat on your knees with him on the bed, hands stroking up and down his arms. “As good as that was, and trust me, it was really good, I want you to fuck me for real now.”

Bob didn’t need to be told again, he bolted towards his bedside table, almost ripping the drawer out as he searched inside the messy compartment. “Aha!” He said victoriously, holding up a condom. You smiled softly at the man, who despite being a literal sex god a minute ago, still had the capability to be the goofy dork you’ve had feelings for forever now.

“You ready?” he asked earnestly once he got the condom on, you’ve never been more ready for anything in your life. “Just hurry up and fuck me, Floyd.” you said breathlessly, and that was more than enough for him to pounce on you like his life depended on it. His lips met yours in a flurry once more that night, the taste of you not gone from his mouth as he all but attacked yours. The tip of his cock met your folds in a blissful roll of his hips, making you gasp. Needing him inside you desperately, you grabbed his cock gently and helped him slowly guide it inside you, breathing out a sigh of relief once he filled you to the fullest. On your back, you laid there, allowing yourself to get used to the feeling of him. Bob, ever the patient man, didn’t move an inch until you gave him the go ahead.

Once the coast was clear, he was like a beast, snapping his hips at an unstoppable force. It felt so good, like all your nerves were set ablaze in the best way. Your ankles wrapped around his waist, your hands scratching up and down his back. The way he was bent over you gave him perfect access to your tits, to which he took full advantage and brought one of your nipples to his mouth. The feeling had you clenching around him like a viper, his hot tongue dancing around the sensitive skin of your breast brought you close to the edge again. His thrusts were hard and wild, but calculated, hitting the perfect spot every single time. You were both moaning like animals, swears and praises and the scent of sex filling the air as you fucked each other into the night. “Fuck, Bobby, m’so close. Wanna come with you, wanna come with you so bad.” you whined out, and Bob can’t think of a time in his life where he’s heard or experienced anything sexier.

“I’m almost there, my girl, fuck, so close. Just hold on f’me like a good girl, can ya do that? Can you wait like the good girl I know you are?” His voice was so gruff, deep and full of ecstasy. “Yeah,” you managed out in a high pitched whimper, something that made Bob’s cock twitch from inside of you. With a few more deep strokes inside you, he was ready, and he knew you were too. “Let go, baby. Come with me, fuck! You better come with me, baby, know you can.”

And so you did. And it was glorious. Earth shattering, mind blowing, you name it. Your skin was hot and sweaty, and you shook like a goddamn earthquake as you came, Bob not far behind as he experienced his own orgasm. Moaning wildly, he collapsed beside you the second he pulled out. The two of you lay there, breathing heavily, minds reeling from the most amazing and intense and powerful sex both of you have ever had in your entire lives. Once the two of you caught your breaths and energy enough to move, Bob cleaned the two of you up before pulling you into his arms. You laid there, head on his chest, looking up at him in pure fascination and wonder.

Yeah, Bobby’s definitely got it goin’ on for sure.

And Hangman can fuckin’ suck it!

[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person? 

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead. 

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?” 

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night. 

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen. 

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than. 

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you. 

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…” 

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond. 

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.” 

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.” 

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights. 

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul. 

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him. 

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?” 

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond. 

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles. 

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio. 

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away. 

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”

[hentyehottie]

pairing: K. Bakugo x Chubby Black!Fem reader

w/c: 3k

c/w: 18+ MDNI

mentions of fingering, blowjobs, rough fucking, kitchen sex, stand and carry position lol, roommates, college au, fwb, you being a brat, katsuki falls in love at first sight lol,

chile this is all over the place but my beta told me to post it 😭 it’s kinda just a bunch of blurbs about you and bakubabe becoming roommates

❀

So, the story was he’d been kicked out of campus housing for blowing a hole through the gym wall and attacking Deku.

In actuality, it was him who’d been blown through the wall while sparring with the shitty loser, Deku still unable to fully control his given quirk.

It almost cost him his scholarship but after Deku begged and professors Toshinori and Aizawa pulled some strings—he’d only been reprimanded and removed from the on-campus housing in fear that he’d cause an insane amount of damage again in the future.

He found the ad on Reddit—$500 a month for rent and the only utilities were electricity and cable/internet, which would probably be split between him and the other tenant. Amenities included a full kitchen, washer and dryer and a full bathroom. The only requirement was that he was in attendance at U.A University, which he was, and a payment of first & last rent.

Of course he was going to jump on it, he was desperate and it was affordable. He even emailed the person who posted the ad, asking to meet as soon as tomorrow.

He paid the landlord with no questions asked, even after the unsightly security deposit was tacked on after running a background check.

He scratched his name onto every highlighted section, agreeing to live with a stranger for the next two and a half years.

***

Now, he did not expect said stranger to be so damn cute.

Cute chubby cheeks, full pouty lips and your curly hair was in a big poof on the top of your head like a bunny’s tail. You had to be at least a foot shorter than him, a tiny plump little thing you were. So damn adorable.

Well now he was absolutely sure he’d made the right decision. Who knows what some creep would do to a cutie like you if they had gotten the room before he did.

You greeted him with a hello and a smile. He responded with only a grunt as he lugged two duffel bags and a roller suitcase into the doorway.

He dropped them with a loud thud, turning to look at you.

“You my new roommate?” He asked, looking you up and down. Your attire was distracting—a small white shirt with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric and don’t even get him started on the way he could see your fat pussy print through your pink shorts.

“A hi, hey or hello would be nice.” You sassed, sipping from a pink drink. “I didn’t sleep with you last night.”

Looks like his bunny had a tongue like a scorpion’s tail.

“Hello.” He smirked, pleasantly annoyed at how your lips curled into a smile at the greeting. Almost like you wanted to bitch him.

“That’s better. Your room is the one on the left.”

“Gotcha, anything else?” He tried to focus his eyes on anything but your pretty face.

“Please don’t forget to put the toilet seat down, clean up after yourself and your company and lastly I’m not stingy with food, so what’s mine is yours, just please don’t be an asshole. If there’s not much of something please ask before you take it.” Your rules were simple enough right? Basic roommate etiquette.

“Ya think I don’t have any goddamn home training?!” Bakugo snapped, gritting his teeth.

You laughed at the angry blonde, he reminded you of an angry Pomeranian and it was actually quite cute.

He was relieved when you giggled at him. Some people took his snappy attitude way too serious, it was honestly annoying as hell.

You really didn’t mind the way Bakugo talked. You were probably just as bad, only difference was your mouth was slick as hell and he was just mean and loud.

“Do you cook?”

Your face lit up. “Yes! I love to cook.” Your smile was enchanting to him, almost made him want to give you one in return.

He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out an envelope. It was some extra cash, probably like a hundred bucks or so, since he had to draw extra money from the atm because the money order amount was only enough to cover rent and not the security deposit.

“Good. Use it for groceries or whatever. We can go together or…I’ll make a list.” His mouth and heart working against his brain. Words tumbling out before he could even think.

“Oh..uh, we can go together, since I don’t have a car.” You didn’t expect him to be so forward or so generous,

The blonde’s heart clenched at the thought of you being his pretty passenger princess. Maybe this roommate thing wouldn’t be too bad.

***

You and Bakugo as roommates definitely took some getting used to, since you’d occupied the unit alone for such a long time.

For instance, your weekday routine was set in stone, so like usual, by the time you entered the doorway you were already stripping . You left your black crocs at the door, stepping out of your scrub bottoms, pulling the top over your head the same time.

“Shit.” You sighed out, unhooking the bra you had on, breasts finally free as they fell out of the cups with a small bounce, rubbing the spot where the underwire kept digging into your skin.

Finally opening your eyes, you were met crimson and there he was, leaned against the wall, eyes glued to you like a lion hunting a doe.

You let out a shriek, using your clothes to cover your body the best way you could, shielding yourself from further embarrassment.

“Forget about me already, dumbass?”

Glaring at the blonde you scurried past him, seething at the shit eating grin on his face.

“You saw nothing.” You gritted out before running the rest of the way to your room.

But, as soon as you were gone the facade dropped and he ran his hands down his face, seemingly more flustered than you were. He’d never seen a woman naked before, outside of porn of course, and it just had to be you.

He hoped he hadn’t upset you, the look of terror on your face was just too fucking cute not to laugh at.

“Fuckkkk.” He whispered out, having popped a hard on in seconds.

Even Bakugo couldn’t deny how sexy you were. A pretty face and an even prettier body. You had a nice fuckin rack too, he was definitely an ass guy at heart but there was nothing wrong with appreciating a nice pair of tits every now and then. You were probably a double D cup since they had a natural lowness to them, he just knew they’d be nice and heavy in his large hands. To top it off you had big areolas and cute little inverted nipples that he’d love to coax out of hiding.

He didn’t know what he liked more— the sight of your juicy, thick ass bent over in a pink thong as you gathered your clothing off the floor or your pretty ass titties and how they bounced with almost every move you made.

The blonde trudged to his room, dick insanely hard and rubbing against his thigh.

Closing his bedroom door, he sat on his bed palming his dick through his sweat shorts. Taking his cock in his hand, he rubbed his thumb around the fat mushroom tip, shuddering at the sensitivity. He pumped his thick cock nice and slow, envisioning your beautiful body now that he could go off of more than just the illusion your tight clothes gave.

“Damn..” That was all it took for Bakugo to feel himself fall over the edge, thick ropes of cum painting his chest and belly as his body shook and his pants turned into slow ragged breaths.

Grabbing a couple tissues from the nightstand beside his bed, he wiped his stomach, chest and the tip of his dick before tossing them into the wastebasket.

Less than satisfied, he shoved his still somewhat hard dick back into his pants

Beating off to his roommate was not how he’d planned spending his first week in his new home.

***

Bakugo sat at the kitchen trying to take notes but he couldn’t even fucking focus. You were always on his mind, invading his thoughts every chance you got.

He wasn’t sure if he liked you, maybe it was lust, either way it was a fucking nuisance.

As more and more time passed, seven whole months to be exact, the two of you began to get very comfortable with each other.

Well, as comfortable as two hornballs could get without going all the way. Neither of you had ever brought anyone back to the apartment so it was assumed that the both of you were single. That was perfect because you two really enjoyed each other’s company, experimenting with things that were fun and worked well for your friendship.

Like studying together in the kitchen, sometimes Bakugo would take the initiative to create flash cards and test you.

Or the movie nights on the couch that occasionally ended with you in his lap, legs spread with two of his thick fingers deep in your creamy pussy.

And even the late night snack runs where you’d most likely end up with a mouthful of his cock in an almost empty Target parking lot.

He’d come to find out you were incredibly clingy too. If your classes happened to end before his, you’d nap in his bed until he returned, loving the scent of burnt sugar that stuck to his sheets and pillows. You loved his scent, since it was calming and reminded you of holiday sweets. Plus, you couldn’t fit his clothes so this was the next best thing.

He heard you softly enter the apartment, watching you stripping down at the door like you usually did until you were in a white, cropped tank and your underwear.

He also noticed you loved to walk around in nothing but tiny shirts and your panties. You’d been doing it a lot more lately since the weather was transitioning into those hotter months and you honestly reminded him of that silly little bear that loved honey.

“Hey.” He greeted first, something he began doing around the third month of living together.

“Hey.”

“What’s wrong.”

Something had upset you, he could hear it in your voice. He knew you like the back of his hand and you hated it.

“Nothing.” You kept your replies short but that didn’t keep him from pestering you. You weren’t upset with him, just annoyed at your dumb parents. You’d gone to see them, you hadn’t seen them in a while and you kinda hoped that they’d start giving you your full allowance again.

Instead they berated you, bringing up trivial things such as your weight and even the way you dressed. It was draining, they were draining, and you just wanted to be left alone right now.

“Fuck is your problem?”

Of course your roommate couldn’t take a hint, too stubborn and caring to just let you walk away upset.

Of course you wanted to tell him how you were feeling, but you hated the vulnerability that came with expressing your feelings. Plus, knowing Katsuki, he’d probably just yell at you and call you a dumbass for even caring about their opinions.

“I don’t have a problem Katsuki.” You rolled your eyes, more than annoyed at his tone. “It’s just school stuff, damn. Just leave it the fuck alone!” Was he really dumb enough to think talking to you like that would help?

“Excuse me.” You tried to slide past him, since he currently towered over you waiting for an explanation.

“Y’er not excused.” He pulled you back.

You yelped in surprise as you were shoved against the island, staring into his fiery eyes as he wrapped one of his large hands around your neck.

“Gonna talk to me?” He asked, staring down at you with those daunting crimson eyes. “Fuck off.” You rolled your eyes, pushing at his chest. Of course he didn’t budge, the 6’3 mammoth continued to peer down at you, brows furrowed.

His other hand trailed down, running two fingers up and down your cunt, catching some of the slick that had already began to pool there.

“Already soaking wet,” He shook his head. “Dumb lil’ slut.”

He spun you around just as quickly as he’d pulled you back, bending you over the island and pulling your thong aside.

Bakugo slapped his heated palm against your ass, the pleasant sting forcing a moan from your parted lips.

You heard the jingling metal of his belt buckle coming undone and your eyes widened.

“Katsuki, what-.”

“S’okay, I know exactly what you need babe.” He reasoned, pulling his underwear down and pressing his hard cock between your thighs.

The way you tooted your ass up didn’t go unnoticed either, attitude seeming to have melted away at the thought of getting your pussy pounded. The blonde smirked, shaking his head again.

His thick cock bullied its way into your virgin cunt, your already slick walls making it just that easy for him to slide right in like he belonged there. The squelch of your pussy was loud as he drilled in and out of you, showing you no mercy.

He reached his arms around, slipping his hands under your tank top to tweak your nipples and squeeze your heavy tits in his big hands.

“Mmmm..fuck Katsuki.” You moaned from the pleasure, loving the way he pinched and squeezed your sensitive nipples. He moved lower, spreading his warm palms all over your soft skin, stopping only to grab at the fat of your tummy.

You stood on your tippy toes, making you just tall enough to take his cock comfortably. The harsh slaps of his hips slamming into your ass, his grunts and your moans echoed in the small kitchen as he fucked you, gradually picking up pace.

He’d actually had a decent day, the academy usually kicked his ass on Fridays, and he wasn’t about to let your gross attitude fuck that up.

“This what you wanted, right?” He pounded your pretty little cunt, drawing out the most adorable little sounds from you.

He felt so good inside of you, like his dick was made for your pussy. Stuffing you full of his cock while he sent harsh slaps to your ass, brows pushed into a deep frown.

“Right?” He snarled, emphasizing his question with a particularly hard thrust, pressing his chest against your back and grabbing your jaw, twisting your neck so hard you thought he wanted to snap it.

You let out a strained moan as he stared at you with those darkened eyes, hips never faltering as he waited for an answer.

“Uh-Uhhuh.” Was all you could muster, Katsuki smirking at the way your eyes crossed and your jaw went slack in his hand.

“Yeah? Wanted me to fuck that nasty lil’ attitude right outta ya huh?” He placed a kiss on your lips, biting your plump bottom lip before he retreated back.

You nodded, vision clouded with specs of white as his thumb played with your asshole and his cock stroked that sweet spot in your cunt over and over.

“Katsuki.” You sighed out his name. “F-feels s’good baby.”

“I know,” He cooed, voice like caramel as he fucked into you, now at a slower pace. “Can’t have those shitty clinical’s stressing my pretty Princess out. How ‘bout you quit, be my lil cumrag instead?”

“Mhm, I will.”

It was like a switch had flipped and his sweet voice clouded your brain, making you forget all common sense. Right now you’d agree to just about anything right now as long as it kept his cock in you.

Bakugo on the other hand, a virgin less than five minutes ago, wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep this up. Especially with his cock now very acquainted with your tight, wet, warm pussy and wanted nothing more than to plant his seed deep inside you.

He unsheathed himself from your pussy, the cool air making him hiss as he spun you around.

He raked his eyes over you, taking in your fucked-out appearance. Tank top ill fitting and stretched out from all his pulling, slight bruising on your neck from when he held you there, your tear stained face was icing on the cake, and he absolutely loved it. A layer of sheen covered you, baby hairs now messily slick to your forehead , lips swollen and red from your biting.

He had so much fucking energy, must be the effects of your quirk. Yeah, it had to be the effects of your shitty quirk, even pre-workout never got him this energetic and all this stimulation at once felt so damn good. His heart pumped fast like it wanted to explode, blood flowed through his veins a mile a minute making his dick rock hard. Bakugo felt like he could fuck you for hours, but he knew his inexperienced cock wouldn’t allow it this time.

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, locking his arms behind your knees and placing his hands on your fat, juicy ass. His wide palms dug into your doughy ass and thighs, giving you a nice hard slap every now and then.

Easing you down slowly, he splits you open on his cock again, feeding you dick inch by meaty inch until you’re filled to the brim once again.

The brawny brute handled your weight like the champ he was, lifting you with ease and it made your pussy so fucking wet. He bounced you on his cock loving your hot breath on his ear as you moaned and panted like a bitch in heat.

You couldn’t help it, as you were too deep in the throes of pleasure as his slightly curved cock kissed your g-spot with every single thrust.

“Mmmm Kats…g’nna cum.” Your sweet velvety voice spoke the lovely sentence he’d been waiting on all evening. You clenched and unclenched as he quickened his pace a bit, fucking you and himself to climax, cock slamming into your cervix so deliciously hard it knocked the wind out of you.

“Fuuckkk.” You held onto him for dear life, lips pressed against his as you made a mess on him, coating his cock in your cream. Burying your face in his shoulder, you cried out as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“That’s it…”

His thrusts grew sloppy and fast as he threw his head back. It felt so good, so good he almost contemplated filling you up.

But he pulled out, spurting out those warm ropes on your belly, some flying God knows where.

Before sitting you down on the cool granite countertop he slid a heated palm across the surface, warming up your seat. He grabbed a couple napkins to clean you up, watching as you leaned back on your arms, still sporting that blissful fucked-out expression on your pretty face.

“Now, stop acting like a spoiled fuckin’ brat and tell me what happened.”

❀

closing a/n: I hope y’all enjoyed it 😭 I’m still feeling iffy tbh 🫤 feeling like I wrote him too soft, ya know

[thatfreshi]

"If You Simply Must Know" (Uni AU P. 7)

no tw!!

Your class at noon comes quickly enough as you try to focus on anything other than the anomaly of a man you've been presented with. Between scrolling through Instagram and staring off into space, you successfully manage to pass the time. However, you're a little too successful, because that said class starts in five minutes, which means you're going to have to sprint to get there.

When you do finally make it, the class is almost entirely full, leaving you one spot at a long table in the back. And much to your surprise, the six particularly interesting people you'd met over the past couple of days. From left to right, you see Wyll, Astarion, an empty seat between him and Lae'zel, Gale, Shadowheart, and Karlach. So, you take that empty seat, and playfully whisper to the man next to you.

"So much for that meeting."

He almost ignores you. Almost. There's a slight smirk, that you probably wouldn't have picked up on if you weren't looking for it. Remembering your schedule, you realize something quite odd. This is a mandatory public speaking class, which means all seven of you put it off for far too long, especially considering at least two of you are seniors. It almost makes you laugh, thinking about all of you avoiding a class like this until now. The introduction lecture passes by slowly, but soon enough the professor is introducing your first project.

"Now, since there are 21 of you in here, and you've already grouped yourselves accordingly, say hello to your groups for the quarter."

And everyone sitting at your table lets out some noise of dissaproval, and you can hear Gale and Shadow whispering to one another. After the professor finishes telling you where you can find the project details in the syllabus, you get up out of your chair, and sit on the table.

"Okay, listen up."

They almost don't listen to you, but you clear your voice until they all look at you.

"Now, I know we all have our differences here, and if we have to work together, we're all going to be nice about it. Gale, Shadow, Lae'zel, you have to be nice to Astarion, or else."

You then look at Karlach and Wyll on the ends of the table.

"And you two? I don't know what your problem is, but please, please get along. I do not want to baby all of you on how to be peaceful with one another, and I will not hesitate to put any of you in timeout."

"Timeout? What are we, children?"

Shadowheart asks.

"Well, you certainly act like it."

You glare at Astarion for the comment.

"Hey, I'm repping you right now, watch it. And yes, you all are acting like children, and I'm sick of it! Why can't we just try to get along, please? No more petty drama, at least while we have to be in class together?"

"But-"

"Gale, I swear to god, if you bring up the RA thing one more time, I'm going to drop out."

And that seems to do it, at least for the time being. They all reluctantly agree to deal with one another, and Astarion stays oddly silent after your comment about repping him to the group.

"Alright! I mean I only really have issues with Wyll, but it seems like the rest of you got something goin' on."

Karlach smiles, excited to get involved with the rest of you. Wyll goes to make a retort, but pushes it down when the two of you make eye contact.

"So, when do you all want to meet up to work on this?"

The seven of you begin discussing schedules, and Astarion says no to almost every proposed plan.

"God, can you just move some things around?"

Lae'zel is already getting frustrated.

"Funny that you think I can do that. Darling, I promise all my plans are far more important than some silly school project."

He does the thing again with his sleeve, hiding the grit of his teeth well.

"Tell me again why we can't just do Thursday? That's the only day I have free this week."

"Because I TA for Professor Mystra on Thursdays. It's an all-day endeavor."

You try your best to not get onto them again, instead dealing with the issues as they arise.

"Okay Gale, do you have like a lunch break on those days? Because if so, we could just do that."

"I suppose we could meet up for an hour at noon..."

He's clearly not happy to concede to Astarion's horribly busy life, but finally there's a plan.

"Perfect, Thursday at noon! Oh, and we should make a group chat."

Karlach collects everyone's Instagram handles as she passes her phone around the table.

"Nice to meet you guys, see ya! Oh, and bye Wyll."

She flips the bird before laughing and walking away, Shadow staring at her all the while. The group dissolves quickly, and you just so happen to walk Astarion's way when you all leave. You address him first.

"You not a walk and talk kind of guy?"

"Not many people want to walk and talk with me, and if they do it's usually just to tell me something, not to actually converse."

"Well, are you particularly against conversing?"

"No, I just don't have much to talk about I guess. A lot of things in my life have to stay private, whether I want them to or not."

"Okay, well we don't have to talk about modeling and stuff."

"You're quite funny Tav. That's the interesting part, that's what people always want to talk about."

He takes a sip of his coffee.

"Well, I don't care about all of that. I like knowing cool stuff about people, like their favorite color."

Astarion almost spits out his coffee with laughter.

"You're kidding? Like an elementary schooler? You're actually going to ask me what my favorite color is?"

You just nod, awaiting an answer.

"Fine. It's red, if you simply must know."

"Cool! See, was that so hard?"

He thinks to himself that yes, it was actually hard to believe someone wanted to know something so innocent and pointless about him, but he simply sighs.

"No, I suppose it wasn't."

The two of you walk and talk for a while, and you constantly wait for him to say he has somewhere else to be, but he stays. You wander aimlessly around campus for about an hour, wasting time away on silly questions about favorites, and eventually get on the topic of favorite book.

"That's too difficult for me. I read far too much for there to be only one answer to that question."

"Really? When do you ever have time to read?"

"Well, I have to read a lot for philosophy, and I often have issues sleeping. If I don't have time to actually sit down with a book I settle for audio books, but it's not the same."

He goes on talking for a while about his thesis project, something about morality stuff you don't fully understand, but you have this pang in your chest, a feeling that you could walk and talk to him for the entire day and feel as if you lost nothing. Astarion on the other hand, he's nervously waiting for you to tell him to stop talking, but he simply continues on, asking you about ethics dilemmas, the two of you laughing with each other for a very long time. In a split second, the smallest moment in time, he realizes someone is actually interested in him, as a person, and it takes every fiber of his being to push the feeling down so he doesn't tear up in front of you.

[bts-bay-bee]

ruin you 4 (ruined)

Pairing: jeon jungkook x fem. reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 3309

Warnings: unedited work, they’re on a trip (me projecting because I want to be the one on a trip), loss of virginity (finally!), jungkook is a sweetheart, protected sex, oral (fem. receiving) fingering, making out, crying kink (it’s the last part of the story, I feel like I need to include this bc it was one of the prompts from the first part), light spit play, the “you want me? go ahead and have me” thing from his live,

A/N: this would’ve been done three days ago if my upstairs neighbour wasn’t being a dick. Also, this is unedited, so I’ll come back and edit it this weekend. If you see any mistakes, please read through them for the time being! Also also, this is my last fic on tumblr! You can check out my pinned post if you’re curious as to why I’m leaving. This is the 4th time ive tried posting this. i feel like im about to go insane. i think its the tag list??? ill start tagging people in like... an hour or so

“Taehyung’s car had to be towed, they’ll only be here tomorrow.” Jungkook complained, throwing his phone onto the coffee table after reading the text thread.

 “Ugh, can’t believe I’m stuck with you for like twelve hours.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you dodged the decorative pillow being thrown in your general direction. “I was joking, you big baby.”

 “And to think I was happy to have you alone for a while.” He sighed, pulling you down so that you were sprawled on top of him, unable to move in his tightening grip. There was once a time where Jungkook would flush red for days at the thought of just hugging you a second too long, but he was evidently long past that.

 You indulged him for a while, letting him move you in whichever position he was most comfortable in, and you eventually ended up beneath him, both your necks craned to keep an eye on the random show he had put on.

 Absentmindedly, you had begun scratching his scalp gently, the continuous and gentle motion quickly nudging him into an almost comatose state, only barely reacting when you spoke to him.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, drowsiness getting the best of you, probably the only reason why you were so nonchalantly bringing this up randomly. “Can we talk?”

 “What’s wrong?” He asked, cracking open a single eye to blearily focus on you.

 “So, I’ve been thinking…” You responded, swallowing the uncertainty away. “I want you to take my virginity.”

 “I know, we’ve spoken about this.” Jungkook frowned, his sleepiness ebbing away just as fast as it had come. “Why are you suddenly thinking about it?”

 “I mean, like… I want you to take it now.”

 Jungkook’s eyebrows almost shot up completely into his hairline as he choked on his own spit. Scrunching up your face, pushing away a spluttering Jungkook away from you, he was all but yelling at you.

 “Y/N, you can’t just say things like that when I’m literally on top of you –”

 “Well, that’s why I brought it up!” You defended, confused with his reaction. You take back what you said earlier; he evidently was not past his awkward phase. “It felt nice.”

 “Yeah, it did, and now we won’t be able to cuddle because I’m going to keep thinking about sleeping with you!” He grumbled, moving to the other couch, as if he was trying to put a decent amount of distance between you.

 With hurt evident on your face, you stared at him for a second in disbelief.

 “You say it like it’s a bad thing!”

 “It is when we’re in a town that we don’t know, with no condoms on hand! We don’t even know where the drug store is to get them! Or even Plan B!”

 Pursing your lips, you scowled at him. “Is that the only reason why you won’t sleep with me? We have no condoms?”

 “That, and I’m not letting you lose your virginity on a couch.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair, tugging on the ends in frustration. “I want you, but you deserve better than sofa sex.”

 “Then let’s go to one of the rooms,” You whined, standing up and pulling his hands gently. He gritted his teeth, annoyance shining through his features.

 “Are you not listening to me? We don’t have –”

 “We do, just come with me.”

 Ignoring his spluttering and (many) questions, you walked to the room you had claimed for the trip, rummaging through your hastily packed suitcase for the condoms you had purchased on a whim.

 “So, you planned this?” Jungkook asked, eyes narrowing in faux suspicion. “Did Tae’s car really have to be towed or did you just tell them to stay away?”

 “Your dick isn’t special enough to have a whole grand scheme, Jungkook.” You sighed exasperatedly while shoving your bag onto the floor. “Sorry to break the news to you.”

 “You don’t know, you haven’t had it yet.” He teased, pulling you down onto the bed. Rolling your eyes, you wondered if he had always been this annoying; you also wondered why you were so helplessly endeared by his foolishness. You froze after you realised you had been grinning at his stupid teasing. Well, that, was problem for another day.

 “Shut up and fuck me.” You grumbled, avoiding his eyes, unsure of how you would face him after being so brash.

 He clicked his tongue, ignoring your sudden shyness to pull you over him, forcing you to spread your thighs far apart to straddle him.

 “I promise I won’t be insufferable for the rest of tonight.” He promises, large hands running soothingly over your waist. You hummed in response (severely doubting how he could keep that promise, but whatever), your own hands resting on his shoulders, itching to cradle his face.

 “Kiss?” Your request came out mumbled, probably inaudible, but he indulged you.

 One of you sighed into the kiss, but with how close you were to one another, it was impossible to tell who it was. Regardless, you settled in, letting Jungkook’s tongue flit over yours, one of his hands coming up to your cheek to hold you closer.

 Leaning back into the pillows, his grip on your cheek and waist forced you to move downwards with him, suddenly crowding him with your familiar, sweet-scented perfume. In fear of falling onto him (which may have probably killed any sort of atmosphere you had going on), you pressed your hand into his chest, feeling the hardness of his muscles move under your touch.

 “You know, I still have a promise to make good on,” He mumbled onto your lips. You hummed in response, not in the slightest caring about whatever he was talking about. “Been thinking about eating you out ever since I saw you ride your pillow.”

 Okay, maybe you should care about what he was talking about.

 You tried not to think back to the last time you and Jungkook had fooled around, you really did. You should burn with shame or embarrassment whenever you think about that phone call, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to.

 Remembering his words, guiding you through your first orgasm alone, promising you lewd things, you often found yourself wanting to phone him again, just for a repeat of that. But you always talk yourself out of it before you could even go to his contact on your phone.

 Now, with Jungkook under you, his eyes wide, almost pleading to eat you out, you still couldn’t find it in yourself to feel shame.

 “Okay.” You whispered, trying your hardest not to smile at his barely contained happiness. He quickly sat back up again, tossing his shirt off before tugging your own off.

 “I know you want this, but if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?” Jungkook murmured, pulling off your pants gently. You nodded, too focused on watching him settle between your legs to give any other indication that you had heard him.

 Quickly spreading your legs, he left a trail of soft, light kisses along your inner thighs, hooking his fingers in between your skin and underwear, gently dragging the material down the length of your legs.

 “Pretty…” Jungkook mumbled, mouthing at your inner thigh, his sucking definitely leaving more than just goosebumps behind.

 After leaving enough marks, he pushed your thighs up to his shoulders, his arms holding onto your propped up legs, forcing you to keep them open.

 “Still good, sweetheart?” He asked, eyes flinting over to you, finally looking at the way you had attempted to control your breathing. Mercifully, he didn’t say anything about the speed in which your chest had been rising, nor did he say anything about the glazed-over look in your eye, but he gave you a small smile. “Stay with me, yeah? Can I go further?”

 “Uh-huh.” You mumbled, reaching out to grab the bed sheets in an attempt to ground yourself. Noticing this, he couldn’t help but grin, reaching out his hand from under your thigh and holding it tightly. “I’m okay, Kook. Promise.”

 He hummed, breath fanning over your over sensitised skin. Placing a kiss over your mound, Jungkook then used his free hand to spread apart your folds, his tongue immediately contacting your clit.

 Barely acknowledging your gasp by lazily looking up at you, he quickly closed his eyes again, savouring the pure taste of you completely coating his tastebuds. Breathing out through his nose, the trickle of air made you even more sensitive than what you already were, your grip on his hand tightening.

 Changing up again, he enveloped your clit with his lips, his plushness sucking gently enough to make you lay back against the pillows entirely. Jungkook let his spit dribble onto your exposed folds, letting it drip down to your fluttering core, before using his free hand to slowly push his spit in.

 Trying his best to open you up slowly on a single finger, you appreciated his caution with you, his face showing just how serious he was about making sure you were okay. Even though you knew he wouldn’t tease you about anything you two had done tonight, you felt ashamed because you didn’t feel embarrassed by anything that had happened. You always thought this was going to be the most embarrassing moment of your life, but somehow, everything just felt right, and you–

 “Are you done looking at me like I hung up the stars?”

 God, even with his tongue on your clit and fingers shoved up you, he was still annoying.

 “You’re such an asshole sometimes,” You complained, opting to look up at the ceiling instead of at him.

 “Can this asshole add another finger?” He asked casually, the single finger in you never ceasing movement. Taking your silence as a yes, he easily slipped a second finger in, mouth going slack seeing how well you opened up for him. “Fuck, babe, see how well you’re opening up for me? Pretty pussy dripping all over my fingers.”

 You let out an involuntary whimper, absolutely loving the words spilling out of his mouth. He looked up at you, face full of cockiness, his fingers moving much quicker now. Unhooking his arm around your thigh, he moved up the bed, face coming right above yours.

 “Do you know how fucking wet you just got, baby?” He murmured into your ear. “Do you like it when I talk to you like this? Like being my good girl, being perfect for me?”

 He had slipped in a third finger in the middle of his sentence, barely being acknowledged by you because you were already so far gone in your pleasure, his voice only making everything hotter.

 “Kookie, don’t want to cum on your fingers.” You breathed, forcing yourself to open your eyes and look at him. He hummed non-committedly, ignoring your request and speeding up his fingers.

 “Where do you want to cum then, pretty?” He cooed, enjoying seeing you struggle to keep your focus on him. “On my tongue? Want me to lick up every drop of you?”

 “No!” You gasped, gripping his wrist so that he couldn’t fuck you open on his fingers anymore. “Cock please. Give it to me. Let me cum with you, please?”

 Jungkook said nothing, opting to kiss you hard, his tongue immediately coming into your mouth and licking in every corner it could reach. He pulled his fingers out of you, blindly reaching across the bed to find the pack of condoms you had haphazardly pushed away.

 “I wish I could’ve seen you buy these.” He panted, shoving off his pants after successfully locating the box. You grinned, admittedly tired, but ignoring your fatigue in favour of seeing him pull down his tight boxers, muscled thighs begging to have your hands over them. “You would’ve been so cute, all shy and embarrassed.”

 “Can you not call me cute while I’m waiting to be fucked?” You scowled, watching him unroll the condom over his length. Much like the first time you had seen his length, you felt saliva pool in the corners of your mouth, forcing yourself to remember to swallow. “Can I suck your dick?”

 “I thought you wanted to cum together?” He teased, propping open your legs again and gently wiping away stray strands of hair from your face. “I thought you were being romantic?”

 “I mean… Later. After. You know.” You spluttered, your brain not working at all after being touched so tenderly. He raised his eyebrow, a fighting off the grin on his face but he said nothing.

 He leaned up, the tip of his length catching against your entrance, and kissed you gently.

 “Still okay, baby?” He whispered, right hand running up and down your side as you squirmed. “Ready for me?”

 You nodded, bringing both your hands to the back of his head and tugging him down so that you could kiss him again. Feeling him slowly push into you, you had to remind yourself to breathe evenly, ignoring the dull ache of being properly stretched out, instead focusing on licking into Jungkook’s mouth.

 It felt as his length was burning you into two, his girth something you had evidently overlooked. Nonetheless, you tightened your legs around his waist, keeping him in place for a while, letting you get used to the sensation of having him in you.

 “Holy, fuck.” He breathed, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “Shit, you feel so warm and tight, and – fuck, Y/N.”

 Giving an experimental thrust after a few moments, he all but preened after hearing a small moan come from your parted lips. Quickly moving his mouth over yours, he swallowed every sound you made, forcing himself to let you adjust to being properly filled before he moved anymore.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, feeling boneless. He hummed, moving his kisses down to your jaw. “Want you.”

 “You want me?” He chuckled, breathless. You nodded helplessly, trying to get him to move. “Go ahead and have me, baby. I’m yours.”

 With that, his hands engulfed your own, holding them onto the bed as he begun properly thrusting into you, albeit small ones. Your breathing changed, somehow becoming even more ragged than they already were, but he took it in stride.

 His thrusts didn’t hurt perse, but there was the slightest discomfort, which had been greatly offset by how he slowly pushed his pelvic bone against your clit; the added sensation enough for you to throw your head back against the pillow.

 After a while of doing this, Jungkook snapped his head up to focus on your half-closed eyes, kissing the corner of your mouth.

 “Okay, baby?” He panted, muscles visibly tensing from holding himself back. “Can I go faster?”

 Nodding frantically, he bit down a chuckle, knowing that laughing mid-thrust was probably the fastest way to get him from the bed to the floor. He was ripped out of his thought when you let out a high-pitched moan, forcing him to get harder.

 “Always sound so pretty for me, hmm?” He mumbled, sweat starting to shine on his skin from his exertion. His skin kept hitting yours, not that you could complain, but the sounds in the room were absolutely filthy.

 You knew if you looked down, you’d find yours and his thighs reflecting the tiniest bits of light from having your arousal everywhere, but you were too embarrassed to do so. Acknowledging how wet you were meant acknowledging how much you liked this side of Jungkook; asking him to be your first had definitely ruined you for other men. Your mind was getting foggier with each time he thrusted into you, but he’d ruined your expectations for everything in a partner. You already knew that no one would compare to him.

 “Jungkook?” You mumbled, small moans escaping you with every thrust. He hummed, hips still smacking into yours, causing you to jolt up the bed. “Close…”

 “Close to coming for me, sweetheart?” He groaned, sneaking his hand between your bodies, thumbing at your clit. Grinning when he felt you clench around him, you tried to blink away the tears you felt burning at the back of your eyes.

 “Want to cum so bad,” You babbled, gasping when he started thrusting harder after seeing your eyes well up with tears. “Jungkook, please–”

 “Keep your eyes open,” He panted, length twitching inside of you, seeing the first tear fall down your face. “You said you wanted to cum with me, right?”

 Nodding quickly, hands running up his arms to anchor yourself, you felt yourself teeter on the edge, so close to coming that you felt almost delirious. He started thrusting deeper, pushing out more tears and inaudible moans out of you.

 With sweat beading on his forehead, he panted out a couple curses. “Fuck, Y/N, cum for me. You look so pretty like this, all fucked out. Been so good for me, so perfect–”

 You came in the middle of his sentence, your moaning and panting cutting him off as your core muscles clenched around him. Feeling boneless, you were so lost in your own high that you didn’t even realise he had tensed up above you, groaning your name straight into your ear, filling the condom with his cum.

 After a few minutes, Jungkook sat up to face you, his chest still rising unevenly. “Are you feeling okay, baby?”

 Nodding, you tried smiling at him, but you don’t know if your tiredness allowed it. “Feel amazing.” You mumbled, cradling his cheek with one hand.

 “You look so pretty when you cry.” He said softly. You breathed out through your nose, laughter bubbling on your tongue. “I don’t know if it’s a fucked up thing to like, but I like knowing I give you so much pleasure that you don’t know how to handle it.”

 “You’ve had a thing for me crying ever since you taught me how to go down on you,” You teased, pushing strands of his hair back. “Going down on you didn’t exactly give me the pleasure you’re talking about.”

 “You just look really pretty after I’ve ruined you.” He poked back, kissing your fingertips. You tried not to roll your eyes at his cockiness, but you couldn’t help but agree with him.

 “Yeah,” You sighed, thinking back to how your realised no one could ever match up to him. “You kind of have ruined me, you know? Where am I supposed to find a boyfriend who holds my hand while they eat me out? You’ve ruined me for everything after you.”

 Jungkook paused, contemplating his next words carefully, before sighing, gathering the courage.

 “I can be your boyfriend who holds your hand and eats you out,” he said softly, forcing himself to look at you. “I want to be your boyfriend. I want to hold your hand even when I’m not eating you out.”

 You tried supressing your giddy grin, but obviously failed, after seeing Jungkook whine at you.

 “Stop laughing at me while I still have my dick in you!”

 “I’m not!” You defended, giggles skipping through your throat, unable to suppress your joy. “I’m just trying to think of a way to remind my boyfriend that he promised I could suck his–”

[quigonswife8]

Healing: Derek Hale x reader

Derek heals you to save your life, even if it would cost him his own.

Warnings: Blood, nearly dying, Derek nearly dying.

Will probably do a part 2 in the next day

-

The blood is the first thing you see. The dark red liquid staining your very nice white shirt. Then, it's the pain, that makes you grit your teeth.

"I see you!"

with barely enough time to react, you throw yourself behind a nearby tree, the rain nearly making you slip over. Bullet piercing bark- the hunter yelling in frustration. What did I do to them? though it's beacon hills, what do you expect?

You peek around to get a quick look. The hunter is reloading his gun, but he's having some trouble. Good.

You had been simply going on a walk, when you'd been ambushed by this guy. Nearly took your head off when you ran into him. Thankfully the rain had given you the advantage to hide where you are now.

Now, though, if this was any other time you would attack, but you are hurt and there are a lot more hunters. You'll die, or just get taken somewhere to be tortured; either way, not good options.

Sucking in a sharp breath you ready yourself. The hunter, nearly finished- sucking in another sharp breath you count down from five- then you're running off through the woods, running on pure adrenaline, running home.

----

The rain has settled down a bit, but Derek still can't get a lock on your scent, or focus in on you.

He's been pacing- pacing up and down the hallway- which is something he does when he's stressed. "they should be back by now." though he knows he shouldn't be worrying this much. Every night you go on a walk, nothing has changed- nothing bad has happened.

Still there's that feeling that makes him think otherwise...

"Come on.". Derek mutters. "...stop worrying. They're fine..."

The alpha rubs his temple, and then turns on his heel hopefully to get his mind off this. He has to, or he'll go from worrying, to panicking. Besides he trusts you, he doesn't need to be with you 24/7, he knows you're alright and fine...

-

You have lost a lot of blood by the time you've returned home. It's hard to stay up, but you force yourself to. As hard as it actually is. Pulling out your key [derek had given you an extra one], you unlock and push the door open.

The door closes with a *click*. Breathing deeply you press your body against the now closed door. Looking around you note how Derek isn't nearby but since you're home he'd be there...

"Derek...?"

Voice shaky, quiet- but Derek can hear you speak. He appears from behind the wall, looking at you, relieved that you're there...

The relief disappears when he smells it- the blood- your blood- and even through the darkness he can see how weak you are. To be expected.

"Shit."

He snaps out of the shock, and runs over to you. An arm wrapping around your shoulder, and you lean into his side.

"...what happened?"

"...hunter shot me."

Derek helps you over to the couch; gently sitting you down but you still grit your teeth in pain.

"...i'll be okay."

"You're dying..."

Derek has to pause a moment. 'you're dying' he'd said it so quickly without even having to think about it. That, yes, you're dying- you're dying.

"...I..."

your boyfriend kneels down in front of you.

"...I need to heal you-"

"No."

With one of your hands you grab his.

"...you'll be too weak. You could die-“

"And you're actually dying."

And you're right. He could die by healing you, but it's a risk he's willing to take. He can't let you die, not when so many people he's cared about have already died, and he wasn't able to save them.

"...I need to heal you, okay?"

He takes his hand out of yours, and moves it to rest on where you were shot. The bullet still in your side; he'll deal with that later. Then without giving you another chance to try and get him to stop, he starts the healing.

A burning sensation runs up the right side of your body- you close your eyes shut, but the pain is too much. For something able to stop the pain all you can feel is pain. "Derek." Derek, who's fighting back the weakness that's already starting to take over, but he pushes through it.

"It will be okay."

When you're able to open your eyes again you notice how the color has begun to drain from his face. His hands- shaking. he's dying. That as much as you heal, he inches closer to death- his eyes glow bright red, but the pain on his face sends your stomach to drop even further.

"Derek..."

grabbing his other hand, you squeeze it as a sign to 'stop' but he doesn't. He's so persitant.

"Derek, stop."

"I...can't..."

"You're dying!"

"I...don't..."

He growls, his eyes closing.

"...care..."

Oh god

He’s not going to stop, as much as you beg him to. He cares this much about you, he doesn't care if he dies, and you can't let him do that.

Looking around the room for something you can use to, hopefully, knock him out, your eyes fall on a bat. One that you'd picked up a few weeks ago- it's not wood, it's aluminum- good.

The healing has stopped the pain enough to allow you to reach over.

While Derek is distracted you grab the bat, taking a deep breath, before swinging it over and hitting Derek over the head. He's not fast enough and ends up not being able to stop the bat from hitting him.

The healing, stops, but because he'd healed you enough, you'll be alright. Derek's body slides to the floor, his eyes closed- but he breathes- he's alright- he's...alive. What matters most.

Standing up, you kneel down next to him. "I need to move him" cause if you just leave him there he'll be very uncomfortable when he wakes.

Hooking arms underneath his, you slowly stand up. It's hard to move him, but you are able to move him onto the couch. Letting out a sigh of relief you sit back on the couch- carefully, not wanting to hurt yourself- then you lean back.

Your eyes flick back to Derek, and a sigh falls from your lips.

He'll be okay but you need to still stay there until he wakes up. Then you can explain everything to him. For now you get more settled into the couch, not really helping when you drift off.

-----

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll Ch. 31 - Captured

You're in the hands of the syndicate and Din is ready to do whatever it takes to get you back. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-30 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Torture. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 3.5k

The slap to the face was a rude awakening. It knocked your skull back into metal, making your ears ring and your head pound. You blinked, trying to get your vision to straighten out. You went to rub your eyes but your hands were bound at your side. Of course they were.  

“She’s up.” 

The room around you came into focus, still fuzzy around the edges. It was a larger, windowless space and there were three people inside it with you, a woman stood at the back, two men closer to you. The woman looked you up and down, eyes ranging over you slowly. Appraising you.

“You killed 26 of my men,” she said, prowling closer. 

“Shit,” you sighed. “Is that all? I’d been hoping I broke 30…” 

One of the men punched you in the side. You barely had a chance to flex the muscles in your core to cushion the blow. You did your best to not react, just looked at him for a moment before turning your attention back to the woman. 

“Nice dog,” you said, jerking your head toward the man. “Get him for a discount because of the inbreeding or…” 

He punched you again. You just laughed, even though your side was already hurting. You quickly took stock of what you could sense of your body, going through the rapid checks that had been drilled into you when you were trained on how to withstand and survive torture. You started with the major systems. Head hurt but nothing serious. You didn’t feel any blood and your mind wasn’t foggy so there probably wasn’t internal bleeding, either. Heart and lungs were intact. You could feel your legs - something you had experience with not feeling now - so your spine was in one piece. Then, you started from the bottom and worked your way up. No unexpected points of pain, no broken bones or huge gashes to be concerned with. For now, you were whole.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have a rank and serial number to just blindly answer their questions with this time. You supposed you could have fallen back on your old rebellion information but that would risk them tying you to who you really were, not something you wanted to do if you made it out of this alive. You were strapped to the same kind of chair Imperials used when using torture droids - your arms extended at your sides, held away from your body, your legs slightly spread and straight down - but you didn’t see one of the droids. A good sign. The droids were good at what they did. You could out last them, but it was a challenge.

You took stock of the room and the people next. The woman was obviously in charge. She was pale with dark hair and a tattoo you didn’t recognize around one eye. The men were large, meant to intimidate. But, judging by the tactics so far, weren’t trained in the finer points of interrogation. You needed to be more worried about them losing control and killing you than of their methods actually getting anything out of you. It would be a game of survival, then. 

The building told you less. Somewhere large, it seemed. The room was cool, so likely not exposed to the sun, making it the interior of a structure. Of course, you had no idea just how long you’d been transported. For all you knew, they’d taken you off world. But the sand in the corners of the room made that unlikely. You just had no idea where on Tatooine you were. So you’d definitely need to steal a speeder if you made it out. 

“What were you doing in Beggar’s Canyon?” The woman asked, coming and standing beside you. 

“Just seeing the sights,” you said. “View was great until you idiots showed up.” 

Another punch to the side, this one closer to your hip. 

“What were you doing in Beggar’s Canyon?” She asked it again, through gritted teeth this time. 

“Are you too stupid to speak Basic?” You snapped. “I told you, I’m a tourist.” 

The woman scowled at you for a moment before turning to the men. 

“Loosen her up a bit,” she ordered. “Get me when you’ve made progress.” 

You were right. They weren’t interrogators. The men were clumsy in their work, lacking any kind of precision. One hit you across the face, the other went for your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. They didn’t follow it up with any questions. 

The moment it was obvious that these men weren’t going to try to extract information, you let your mind go. It was a tactic you knew from training, separating your mind from your body. You could break away, the pain becoming a dull roar in the background. The blow that snapped a rib barely broke through, seeming more like a jolt when landing on the Crest and the armrest of the chair smacked into your side. You were only vaguely aware of the trickle of blood from the corner of your mouth, the wetness dripping onto your chest more shocking than the pain. You weren’t quite sure how long they tried to hurt you when they stepped back from you, panting for breath, looking you over. 

“Get the Gardulla,” one said. 

That snapped you back to reality, your conscious mind rejoining the rest of you. The dull awareness of pain became a roar and you did your best to assess the damage and dull it before they effectively drugged you. At least two broken ribs but no punctured lung. Potentially fractured jaw. Orbital bone also had some damage. Sternum was bruised to the bone but seemed intact. You were certain your torso was going to be covered in vicious bruises but it didn’t feel like there’d been any serious damage done to internal organs as of yet. All in all, not as bad off as you could have been. You tried to find a part of your body that wasn’t hurting to focus on, dulling the other parts that were in pain. 

One of the men grabbed your forehead and yanked it back, holding your skull against the back of the chair with one hand while prying your mouth open with the other. The second man dumped the Gardulla in your mouth, making you cough and choke. Once they were done pouring, the first man clamped your mouth shut and covered it, forcing you to swallow the liquor. He released you once he was satisfied and you were able to try to expel what had been poured into your lungs. 

“She should be ready to talk now,” the first man said, coming around and looking at you with a vicious smile. The second man left the room.

“If you really think all it takes is a light beating and some booze,” you said, trying to catch your breath. “You’re stupider than you look, and that’s saying something.” 

He punched you in the stomach one more time for good measure and you laughed as you struggled for air. 

“She doesn’t look ready to talk,” the woman was back, watching you laugh at her thug. 

“Gardulla is taking effect,” the second man said, following her in. “Give it a try.” 

She stalked around you in a circle, looking you up and down slowly. You could feel the liquor seeping into you, the edges of your mind softening. You focused as hard as you could, gathering the things you needed to keep safe and locking them away. Din, the child. Where they might be. Where they might go. How to find them. You could picture it happening inside your head. No one could reach those things, not without permission. You weren’t about to provide it. 

The woman made it around to the front of you. 

“What were you doing in Beggar’s Canyon?” She asked again. 

“What were YOU doing in Beggar’s Canyon?” You asked, laughing a little. The woman’s mouth formed a tight line. 

“Fine,” she snapped. “Let’s try a different tack. Who are you working for?” 

“Now?” You asked. She gave you a single nod. “I work for myself. It’s the way to go, you should try it instead of whatever it is you’re doing now…. Seems like a shit gig.” 

She narrowed her eyes at you. 

“Who did you work for before?” She asked through gritted teeth. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you snorted. 

“I thought you said she was ready to talk,” she turned to her goons. 

“You said not to risk killing her…” he lowered his voice. 

“Because we need to know who knows where our stock is,” she snapped. “We need to know who is trying to eliminate us! I didn’t tell you to be so careful with her that she doesn’t open her fucking mouth!” 

She turned back to you. 

“I want you to know,” she said, her voice kinder. “That it will be a lot easier for you if you just talk to us now. If you don’t, I will give them permission to do far worse to you than they’ve already done and I think we can agree, what they’ve done is bad enough.” 

You scoffed. 

“What they’ve done is amateur hour,” you rolled your eyes. “If you want to break me with them? You better strap in for the long haul, they’re fucking useless.” 

She looked you over. 

“Keep her awake until the Gardulla wears off,” she commanded, not taking her eyes off you. “Then step it up. Make her feel it. Then we’ll try it again.” 

They left you alone and darkened the room before blasting the sound of a siren, so loud it made your ears ring. You closed your eyes and tried to separate your mind again. It was going to be a long few hours. 

*** 

Din had reviewed every map he had of Tatooine and couldn’t find an abandoned fucking palace anywhere. 

The man he’d spoken to was truthful, he was certain of it. But the maps Din had were, at most, 10 years old. If the palace had been abandoned for decades, it had likely been left off. Maybe even assumed to have been swallowed by sand. And he didn’t have the luxury of time to comb the desert on his own. Not when they were hurting you, trying to break you. 

He took the speeder to Mos Espa, pushing it to its limit. It barely came to a stop before he jumped off it at the cantina he’d met Peli’s contact at before. He stalked inside, the child in the bag on his hip. 

The cantina went quiet and he was happy for the reaction his armor brought. He wanted the attention now, wanted the fear. He needed everything he could leverage. 

“I’m looking for information,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even. “I am willing to pay. I need the coordinates for an abandoned palace on the northern Dune Sea. I will protect your identity if the information is accurate.” 

He stalked to an open table and sat down. The music started again and he clenched a fist, waiting. He fought to be patient, give someone time to get up the nerve to approach him. But every second he wasted sitting here was agony. While he was here, they had you. While he sat here, they were trying to pull information out of you. Information that Din knew you wouldn’t give up and that would just make it worse for you. He ground his teeth. He had to find you. 

Din couldn’t remember the last time he was this afraid. He felt sick, as though someone had his whole chest in a vice grip. It was like he couldn’t take a full breath, couldn’t make his heart beat properly. His mind kept going over what could be happening to you, what it would be like finding you broken or dead. 

“I love you, Din. So much.” He heard your words on loop over and over again in his mind. No one had ever said that to him before. He’d never wanted anyone to say it before. All he wanted to do was wrap himself in those words, in you. Hold your love close, so close that it wouldn’t matter if he never heard those words again. He had them from you, even once, and that was enough. But you were gone. They’d taken you. He had to get you back. 

He was getting too overwhelmed with waiting, starting to think about how long it would take to get to Mos Eisley, talk with Peli and get the Crest when a small, elderly woman slid into the booth across from him. 

“You said you needed information?” She asked quietly. Din nodded once. “What will you pay?” 

“What do you want for it.” 

She paused, thinking. 

“200 credits?” 

Normally, Din would have bargained. Not today. He took the money out and put it on the table. 

“Coordinates,” he said. 

“I don’t have those,” she said, looking at the pile of credits hesitantly. “But if you have a map, I can point it out, I know where it was. The Hutts used it as a pleasure house when I was a girl, we would go there looking for work sometimes. They needed people to serve drinks, run errands…” 

He pulled out the data pad with the map of the Dune Sea. She looked it over for a moment, getting her bearings, and then pointed out a spot. 

“It’s there,” she said. 

“You’re certain,” he replied. 

“Positive,” she nodded once. He pushed the credits toward her and got up to leave. 

“Be careful out that way,” she said. Her eyes were wide in her wrinkled face. “There are bandits and gangs that run rampant out there.” 

“I know.” 

He was counting on it.

He got back on the speeder bike, driving as fast as it would carry him, into the desert to find you. 

***

The siren had become a drone and the darkness a comfort when the lights came on and the sound cut at the same time. You blinked quickly, trying to force your eyes to adjust as fast as they could to the almost blinding brightness. The silence was nearly deafening, your ears ringing and scrambling for something to latch onto. Your body was desperate for information, too vulnerable to try to wait out the sudden change. You fought to get your instincts under control when a syringe was plunged into your arm. You gasped in shock, still not able to see more than smears of color around you. 

“That’s a serum left over from old Imperial stores,” the woman’s voice was oddly loud as your eyes came into focus. “From the IT-0 units. Reduces pain tolerance, makes it so you can’t pass out. We don’t have much, I’ve been saving it to use on the right person. And then you show up. You, who killed off a chunk of my front line men. You, who seem to know just where we need to be. You, who won’t tell me who you’re working for. You seem like a perfect candidate.” 

“The Imps were always shit at doing things themselves,” your voice sounded strange, the ringing in your ears dying down. You could see her now, standing in front of you. “They always needed the help of droids or chemicals. A good interrogator just needs their hands, a knife and their head.” You glanced to the men behind her. “Not that you’d seem to know.” 

She flipped open a knife and held it up in front of you before wordlessly pressing the point of it into your stomach. You clenched your jaw, trying not to scream. She hadn’t broken the skin but it felt like she was thrusting it into you. 

“It really doesn’t take long for the serum to take hold,” she said, handing the knife to one of her men. “I need you to know that you can stop this at any time. Just tell me what I want to know. Who were you here with? Why are you here? Who do you work for? Where can we find them? That’s all. Those simple questions are all I need and they’ll stop.” 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been interrogated,” you met her eyes. “I could use the practice.” 

She shrugged. 

“It’s your flesh.” 

She nodded to the man she passed the knife to and he stalked forward, practically salivating. You steeled yourself. You would not tell her about Din and the child. Nothing that would link back to them. Hopefully they were far from here by now but you couldn’t risk it, you didn’t know how far the syndicate’s reach was if they thought they were in danger. You could resist this. You could resist this for them. 

He pressed the knife into your arm, piercing the skin. The pain was so much worse than it should be, you knew that it couldn’t be this bad, but you had to swallow your scream. He made a short, shallow incision and looked to the woman. She gave him a nod. He notched the long side of the blade against the cut and dragged it down, taking a two inch wide strip of skin away from the bone and muscle, pulling the flesh from your body from your elbow to your wrist. You could feel yourself trying to pass out, trying to do something - anything - to relieve the pain that was so intense it felt like you were going to die but the drugs in your system kept you conscious. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You screamed. 

He removed four more strips of flesh from your body before she stopped him. Your throat was raw from screaming, your whole body aching like a raw nerve. Everything you wore was wet with your own blood. 

“Ready to tell us who you’re working for?” She asked, stepping close to you, putting her face beside your own. Her voice was calm, soothing. “I can make this stop for you. I don’t want to hurt you. I just need the information. Just that. I can even get you bacta, make this pain all stop for you. Wouldn’t you like that?” 

You smiled, the movement pulling on your damaged cheeks. She was using tactics you used when extracting information. You knew exactly how this would go.

“I don’t work for anyone,” your voice shook. “I am here as a tourist. And you can go to hell.” 

She sighed. 

“Take her to holding,” she said. “We can’t push her any further right now or it’ll kill her.” 

The man came forward and unhooked you from the chair. You formed a plan quickly, making yourself go limp. Let them underestimate you. Make it so they didn’t need to cuff you, see if they wouldn’t. 

He pulled you from the chair and slung you over his shoulder, not bothering to restrain you. Even with the pain, you had to resist the urge to smile. This you could work with. 

He carried you to a cell, not far down a hall, and dropped you unceremoniously on the ground. You took advantage of it, suddenly gasping for air and clutching your ribs. 

“What the fuck did you do?” The other man demanded. 

“I just put her down!” He snapped. “You saw it!”

“Go get the boss,” he said, standing away from you but watching you. You kept gasping for breath as the man hurried back with the woman in tow. She glared at the man who dropped you. 

“You probably punctured her lung,” she snapped. “We’ll have to get her to the medic to keep her alive, we need to know who the fuck is after us…” 

He went to pick you up again and you took advantage of his undefended position. You swept his legs out from under him and immediately wrapped your legs around his from behind and threw your arm around his neck, pulling it back. He gasped and choked, pulling uselessly on your arm. 

“Shit!” The other man yelled and tried to go in the cell but the woman stopped him, just watching. 

“Want him to live?” You gasped, tightening your grip. Your body was screaming in pain but you shoved it down. “Then let me go.” 

“You think I care if he lives?” She scoffed.

“No,” you replied, squeezing tighter. The man thrashed against you, the final throws of life, before he gurgled and went limp. You kept the hold up, just to be safe. You looked at the other man. “But now he knows it, too. And he knows that all I need is a second, just one second, and I’ll kill him, too.” 

You released the man’s limp body, checking his pulse for a moment. It was gone. You smirked through the screaming pain. 

“My number’s up to 27.” 

[ab4eva]

‘Just Like A Woman’ part 2

Summary: A Las Vegas showgirl falls in love with a heartbroken Elvis Presley. He is unwilling (or unable) to love her back.

Warnings: nsfw 18+ only, angst, intoxication, gaslighting, asshole Elvis, orgasm denial, hair pulling, knee-riding, handjob (m. receiving), Priscilla doesn’t exist in this timeline, not proofread.

Author’s note: A big thank you to the anon that sent me a message last week saying you needed more Tomorrow and Just Like A Woman, I wouldn’t have gotten this out today if not for you! As always, thanks to my bestie wives Birdy, Marina and Ally, for the love, support, guidance and laughs.

Word count: 2,757

Part 1

-

“Someone’s feelin’ a little tipsy, hmm darlin’?” he murmurs. You blink your eyes open and Elvis swims into view above you. Your breath catches in your throat and your face flushes with heat. You haven’t been this close to him in months and despite your drunken state, the joy and pain that pierces your heart at the sight of him, the sound of his voice only for you, has you blinking back tears and closing your eyes again quickly so he can’t see them. He doesn’t like it when you cry, it makes him madder than a hornet, and you’ve no wish to make him angry tonight. Tonight you just want to float away, let him make you feel like only he can. Worshipped. Adored. Wanted, if not exactly cherished. You relax into his touch as he runs his fingers through your hair languidly, enjoying the moment for what it is, a manifestation of his need for you, even if it is purely physical. You still have a certain amount of hold over him and you indulge the tiny flicker of possessive hope that sparks inside your chest.

“Alex told me you had a few too many drinks tonight…is that true, honey?” He suddenly grips your chin in his hand with a gentle force and pulls your head back, abruptly forcing you to look up at him once again. It isn’t mean, but it isn’t nice, either. He’s big on keeping up appearances, especially now that people know who you are. Hell, the press caught you in their crosshairs earlier this year and had a field day. “The King of Rock and Roll tarts it up with Vegas showgirl…but can you blame him?” It was unfair and nasty, the things they said about you in the article. But to Elvis, the only thing that had mattered was how he was portrayed. Ever since then you had to be on your best behavior, look absolutely perfect whenever you went out (with or without him), always be polite, well-spoken and well-dressed. Your mouth is suddenly filled with cotton and your heart speeds up as you try and fail to focus your eyes on his face. But the alcohol gets the better of you, the room spinning wildly out of control and you shut them again, unable to keep them open.

“Answer me honey,” he demands in a quiet voice through gritted teeth, shaking your chin a little. Your brows furrow together as a pounding ache in your head echoes the one in your chest. Your hand reaches up to grasp his arm that connects him to you, tugging a little on his sleeve, desperate for him to let you go. His hold on your chin is just a little too tight, his ringed fingers biting into the soft flesh of your jaw. Instead of letting go, his grip tightens ever so slightly, and you’re sure there will be half-moon crescents left behind on your skin by his perfectly manicured fingernails.

“Elvis…can you…please.” You manage to choke out through the vise-like hold he has on your mouth, trying to shake your head, straining against him, pulling harder on his arm. He chuckles darkly and releases you with a final squeeze that has you rubbing your jaw and gasping a little. The room dances around you and you close your eyes again, unable to follow his movements as he paces back and forth like a tiger in a jungle, regal and smoothly hypnotic, full of pent up rage bubbling just beneath the surface. This is bad. You haven’t seen him this worked up since just after you met him, when you slowly and painstakingly pieced his shattered heart back together again.

“Goddamnit, kitten!” he roars suddenly, startling you out of your stupor, your eyes flying open at the sound, your heart pounding uncontrollably again. “Did you make a fool of yourself out there? At my show?!” He points a finger toward the door before slapping a hand forcefully against his chest. “Did you make a fool outta me?!”

He stops in front of you, jewel-littered chest heaving, delicate hands balled into fists at his side. Some survival instinct inside your rib cage is screaming at you to flee, now, run far away. You can feel your legs itching to sprint, your fight or flight mode kicking into high gear. But. God help you, in this moment, you shouldn’t be as attracted to him as you are. The way the light gleams off the gold chains resting in the thicket of his chest hair, a slight sheen of sweat bathing him in an ethereal glow. His midnight hair mussed, plush mouth parted in something resembling a sneer, perfect white teeth that all at once look as if they could devour you whole. His eyes travel the length of you, assessing, taking in your long, bare limbs, firm and toned, a dancer’s body. The ample swell of your full breasts barely contained by the slip of silk covering your chest, the curves of your face cherubic and womanly in the same turn.

Slowly, his lithe body slowly bends to hover over you as he brings a knee up to rest on the couch between your bare thighs, his arms bracketing either side of you, pinning you to the couch. You can see the strain of his cock forming an outline against his tight pants, and you lick your lips as you feel arousal flood your folds. You offer a silent thanks to the universe that you chose this sliver of a silk dress tonight. It barely covers your soaked panties at this point. Your breathing grows shallow at the sheer closeness of him, your nose picking up the heady scent of his musk and sweat mixed with something spicy. It threatens to overwhelm your senses in your current state and has your heartbeat kicking up a notch. He smirks as his knee slides forward an inch, two inches, ever so slowly, until it meets your clothed pussy. Your sharp gasp at the contact makes his smirk deepen and he shifts his leg just a little, sending shockwaves through your body. Your head falls back on the couch and one of his hands fists in your hair, tangling his fingers in the long, silky stands.

He begins his leisurely assault on your body, the grind of his hips in perfect rhythm with the tugging of your hair, your scalp and pussy tingling pleasantly. You spread your legs wider to give him better access as your hands reach up to clutch at his narrow waist. He stops abruptly, arching away from you without breaking contact.

“Ah, ah, ah…you don’t get to touch me yet, baby. Been a bad little girl, and bad girls don’t get what they want,” he murmurs lowly, his voice dripping with honey so thick it’s like he can barely get the words out. You’re too far gone to care at this point, the alcohol and endorphins racing through your body, the thrill of being close to him again, of him touching you after so long an absence. You settle for grabbing fistfuls of the fluffy pillows decorating the couch as he finally begins to move once more, his icy eyes boring holes into yours, pink mouth parted invitingly. Anger sears through you in an instant at the fact you can’t kiss him there. You want nothing more than to crush your lips to his in this moment, to feel his tongue gliding against yours, exchanging breaths like your lives depended on it. But a particularly severe jolt against your swollen clit has you forgetting everything but the here and now, your eyes squeezing shut in pleasure. You can feel the tidal wave building, so close to crashing over you and pulling you under, you’ll be gone in a matter of seconds. You wantonly grind down on Elvis’s knee, needing more friction and a throaty moan escapes your lips. You hear a low growl as he pulls your hair hard, once, and a sharp pain shoots from your head to your toes, before he’s letting go completely, stepping away from you so quickly your mind can’t keep up with the sudden change. Your hips are still bucking up, seeking contact where there isn’t any.

Your eyes fly open, your body trembling with unshed release, your breath stolen by the orgasm that had been so near, your hands still gripping the pillows. He’s angry again, that burning fire inside barely contained, the telltale jiggle of his leg giving him away. Tears threaten to spill down your cheeks but you blink them away, they’ll only make him madder.

“You know how I-I-I feel about drinkin’. A-a-and losin’ control. Did you even stop to think for one goddamn minute about how that might look? About how that m-m-might make me look?”

You’re frozen where you sit, flushed, needy and exposed, wishing the floor would open up and swallow you. Anything to get away from his burning anger towards you. Confusion worms it’s way into your hazy brain. You should have been more careful. What if someone had seen you. Did you make a fool of yourself? You don’t remember doing anything more than having a good time, enjoying the show. You had sat in your booth and sung along a little, but that was it. You hadn’t gotten up and danced, or rushed the stage or screamed. You hadn’t acted like all of his other fans. You had behaved yourself. Hadn’t you? Your mind is fuzzy and his fury threatens to engulf the both of you…can’t be sure now.

His eyes are twin blue flames that blaze with anger and something else…something deeper that you can’t quite put your finger on in your hazy state. You reach out a hand to him, wanting even now to comfort him, he looks so much like a scared little boy that your heart can’t help but break a tiny bit. You swallow and struggle to stand from where you’ve melted into the soft couch, thinking if you can get a handle on the situation everything will be ok. He watches you with a look of disdain on his face, derision written like bitter words across his beautiful features before he turns and stalks to the window, brooding over the glittering blanket of stars that is Las Vegas stretched out below. He leaves you to help yourself up, swaying a little when you finally stand, gripping the edge of the couch to keep from falling.

“Elvis, please…I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything wrong, I promise. I was a good girl, I swear it.” You wince at the desperation in your voice, unable to keep yourself from begging for his forgiveness. You don’t even know what it is you need forgiveness for, but you must have done something awful to cause such a reaction in him. You’re unsteady on your feet but will yourself forward, thinking if you could just touch him, just soothe him a little like you did all that time ago, he would soften and turn into your embrace as he once did. You would never admit this to anyone, can hardly admit it to yourself, but you miss the Elvis you first met, the shell of a man who went through the motions of life with a cracked facade and broken heart. He was angry, yes, but also lost and broken. You remember nights in his bed, holding him close to your chest as he cried bitter tears, his body wracked with sobs. All you could do then was hold him, but it was enough. It had been enough. If he would only let you hold him again things might be different.

Tentatively you reach a shaking hand out and it hovers over his back, afraid to make contact, afraid that he’ll shake it off, or worse, turn and snatch your delicate wrist in his burning grasp. You gently ease your palm into the hollow of his shoulder blades, so light is your touch at first he isn’t sure it’s actually there. But then his head droops and his shoulders relax, a deep sigh emanating from within him. You press your hand a little firmer, rubbing his back soothingly. You feel him shudder and wonder when was the last time that someone touched him so gently, with only the intent to give and not receive. If only he would open his heart to you, you could give him so much, love him so well. You swallow the tears in your throat, those won’t do at the moment, and shake your head to clear your thoughts. Your hand moves up to the nape of his neck, kneading as you go, releasing the tension he always holds there. Your fingers slip into his hair, stroking and scratching, as you feel his head tip back and grow heavy in your hand. You step closer, the heat radiating off of him making you shiver in the air-conditioned room, the alcohol starting to wear off a tiny bit. You snake an arm around his waist and pull him flat against your chest. He resists at first, stiffening in your arms, before softening once again, slumping against you.

You lay your head on his back and sigh, finally feeling a sense of peace at being back where you belong. Next to him. You pull him closer, placing a hand over his heart, pressing the whole of yourself against him as he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, his breath coming in shallow exhalations. You feel his heart speed up under your palm and yours matches his rhythm. His hand covers the one of yours around his waist and slowly guides it down, down, inching towards that part of him that is needy and begging to be set free. It feels as if you both stop breathing when your entwined hands reach the hard, twitching length of him. Your fingers close over his concealed cock and he groans, unable to keep from thrusting a little in desperation. In the mirrored reflection of the window before you your eyes meet his, an unspoken plea falling silent and heavy. You know what he needs, know how he likes to be touched and handled.

You fumble with his belt buckle briefly before it falls to the floor with thud, followed by the sound of a zipper and the rustle of fabric. Reaching into his jumpsuit your cool hand meets hot, hard velvet, throbbing and heavy as you pull him out. You smear the generous amount of precum leaking from his tip onto the rest of his straining cock as you close your fist around him, moving your hand slowly. Teasingly at first you twist and squeeze lightly, running your thumb over the tip of his sensitive head, until you feel his hips start to thrust into your hand. Your hand squeezes his slippery member more tightly, dragging up and down with a satisfying squelch as his broad chest starts to heave through his open jumpsuit. One of his hands tangles in your hair while the other one finds your ass cheek and grabs hold, crushing it in his grip. He’s beautiful in the reflection of the window, his lidded eyes blinking slowly, mouth parted in ecstasy, his head falling back onto your shoulder as you cradle him in your arms.

“Oh goddamn,” he breathes raggedly. “Just like that, baby, right there.” It isn’t long before he stiffens and spasms in your arms, hot spurts of pearlescent come covering your hand. You hold him closely, your arm around his chest tightening to keep him upright as he reaches out a hand to the window to keep from falling. You’re both out of breath as you release his softening cock to fetch a towel from the bathroom. You drop to your knees before him, gently cleaning away the sticky mess, mindful of his sensitivity. He cups your face tenderly, tilting it up, his thumb making small circles on your cheek as his lips lift in a crooked half-smile.

“Sober up.” The words drop from his mouth like a stone into your heart. His hand falls from your cheek as he turns away, adjusting himself as he heads for the door. You can’t hide the look of devastation on your face as the door swings shut with a soft click behind him, on your knees with the lights of Las Vegas mocking you brilliantly from below.

-

Tags - not all of them work, so sorry. Let me know if you want to be added or removed! @jelliedonut @butlersxbirdy @precious-little-scoundrel @elvisabutler @eliseinmemphis @powerofelvis @missmaywemeetagain @godlypresley @be-my-ally @richardslady121 @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @from-memphis-with-love @whositmcwhatsit @butler-trouble @artlover8992 @headfullofpresley @ohjustpeachy1 @literally-just-elvis-fics @dhimpson1

[sephirthoughts]

Hi! I hope you had a good day today.

For the ask game, what are your thoughts on 5 and 9 for Sephiroth?

I did, thank you! I hope you had a good day, too!

ON TO THE BURNING QUESTIONS

5. Sephiroth is such a wonderful layer-cake of pathologies, it's so fun to dissect the impacts on his personality. He is autistic-spectrum, hyper-intelligent, alienated, deeply insecure, and feels he has no 'place in the world'. Despite his insistence, under Jenova's influence, that he's the chosen one and meant to rule the world, he has rock-bottom self-esteem and almost no sense of self. He knows he's different but he has no idea who he is. Add being raised in a lab, horribly abused, and treated like a weapon rather than a person his whole life, and there's not a lot of Sephiroth left.

This would affect his living space in that it'd be generic, impersonal, highly functional, basically empty, serving its purpose as a place to rest, and nothing else. Has place to lie down, has place to shower, has place to dress=meets criteria. I doubt he'd notice if there were even blankets on the bed. It's a Sephiroth storage container, more than a living space. Which is terribly sad and now I am sad. BOOOO ME

Whether he's messy or not is another question. He honestly strikes me as someone who hates disorder if he ever thinks about it. The problem is, he does not think about it. He has executive function issues (see: his bout of manic hyperfocus in the archives, where he had books just strewn everywhere and didn't eat or sleep or bathe for days), and is generally unaware of anything pertaining to his own self-care, including messiness/dirtiness, unless they become a nuisance that disrupts his current fixation.

When he was being raised in the lab, he was a child, so there were people who cleaned, cooked, washed his clothing, etc., and in SOLDIER they definitely had people to take care of those kind of domestic things, so they could focus on training. Hence, he never learned to clean up after himself.

All of this wouldn't matter much, in a living situation with custodial services, but if left to his own devices, his combined lack of awareness, neglect of his own needs, and inexperience with such things would create a perfect storm. He'd forget to take the garbage out, never pick up after himself, not do the dishes, have takeout boxes everywhere, and have no idea that dusting, mopping, vacuuming, etc. even exist as concepts. I think his living space would be kind of awful. But he wouldn't notice.

That is, until Angeal comes over, has seven simultaneous brain aneurysms, leaves and returns with Zack and cleaning supplies, and they spend the next ten hours deep-cleaning the place, while Sephiroth insists it's not that bad.

9. This accords so nicely with number 5! Because he'd be a terrible roommate.

-He'd be quiet, courteous, and never have parties or eat your food, but he'd leave stupid long silver hairs all over everything (the less said about the bathroom shower drain the better), never clean up after himself, and act confused when asked to do so.

-He is definitely the type to always be forgetting his house key. Like, he may as well not have one.

-He leaves that stupid, ultra-sharp, nine-foot-long sword just LYING AROUND WHEREVER. Someone is going to lose a foot.

-He thinks he's a great cook and likes to share his talent with people, and he's too sweetly sincere and excited about it, so you can't bear to break his heart, and you wind up gritting your teeth and smiling through a plate of sticky, pasty, mushy pasta, with sauce made from frankly baffling ingredients (you put walnuts in the marinara? ohhhh...how…interesting. is this an anchovy?).

-He casually says absolutely horrible, emotionally devastating things, without realizing they're horrible. Example:

person: my mom was so forgetful, she always used to burn the garlic bread and she'd mix up my brother's lunch box and mine half the time

sephiroth: haha yeah, i know what you mean. on several occasions, Hojo forgot to send someone to change my IV, when he left me strapped to an exam table in the basement lab for multiple days, and i nearly died of dehydration and malnutrition

person:

sephiroth: parents, right?

-Lastly, Sephiroth absolutely never wears a shirt and in fact doesn't even own one. This is not an annoying habit, this is the habit that makes all the other ones worth putting up with.

[anxieteeeaa]

BAD IDEA

baby you’re a bad idea, i could do a few more years (based off the song bad idea by dove. cameron)

WARNINGS : cheating, consensual- non-consensual, fwb, dom!harry/ sub!reader, cream pie, fingering, degradation, exhibitionism, humiliation, condescension, name calling, etc.

BARE WITH ME I HAVEN’T WROTE A FIC IN YEARS LMAO

The music could be heard from blocks away. this was the biggest halloween party in town. Everyone was going to be there. Y/n and her boyfriend Ryan parked a few blocks down from the house due to how packed it was, the bass of the music bumping in there car as he reversed into his spot.

Reapplying her lipstick and taking one last selfie with Ryan, she adjusted her skirt and did a double take before stepping out of the car once he had opened it for her. “Thank you.” She grinned and stepped out with a smile “Anything for the Pirate Queen” he tipped his hat before shutting the door. “We do look great I have to admit.” he stated as he did a once over at their outfits. Y/n hummed in agreement and held his hand as they made their way to the party.

Her heart thumped in her chest as they came closer to the house, realizing how many people there really were. Granted, she’s a people person, but not when it comes to the entire city being here. Stepping inside you could feel the music in your body. The bass was high, the air smelled like weed and different flavors or nicotine. “I’m gonna go get us some drinks, you wanna find us somewhere to sit?” Ryan questioned as he pressed a kiss on her forehead. She nodded in agreement before pushing through the crowd to find a spot. She finally found the perfect spot, not too close to the music, yet not away from the crowd. She made herself comfortable and sat on her phone while she waited for her partner to return.

“Fancy seeing you here puppy”

I've got a little left in here, funny how you reappear

She recognized that voice anywhere. Her chest tightened and she chose to ignore him and focus on her phone.

“I know you heard me puppy. Look up at me.” She immediately obeyed, examining his costume that he had chosen. It was his girlfriend’s idea for her friends to come in matching couples costumes. And let’s just say Harry definitely nailed it.

“Why bother me? Don’t you have some toy to go fuck around with!” She sassed as she got up to look for her boyfriend only to be pushed back down. “ No need for the attitude puppy. Just the two of us right now.” He stroked her chin with delicacy before grabbing her throat. “Next time you speak to me like that I won’t be so nice. Understood?” She didn’t respond.

He squeezed her throat harder. “I said, Do you understand puppy?” He gritted his teeth as he waited for a response. She nodded her head as she struggled for air. “I guess you aren’t so dumb after all” he let her go before dragging her outside onto the patio. She tried to protest, only for him to shove her onto the ledge and tear a whole in the center of her stockings. “You think you can just come to my party dressed up like some whore and get away with it?” He spanked her ass waiting for a response. “You think just because you have that pretty little boy you too don’t belong to me?” He chuckled as she struggled to respond. “Cowgirl” she choked out. “I’m a cowgirl” she sobbed as he spanked her once more.

He roughly yanked her hair back and brought her towards one of the chairs. “Well then.” He unbuckled his pants with one hand, the other holding a firm grip on her hand and made himself comfortable. “Since you’re a cowgirl, why don’t you show me what a proper ride looks, hm?”

She was soaking wet and the thought of Harry manhandling her just made her clench. “Go on puppy” he tutted “I don’t have all day, unless you want your pretty little boyfriend to come out here and see you on my cock.” He smirked, causing a whimper to release her throat as she straddled him and slowly began to sink down on his cock.

I know I shouldn't do it, but I'm gonna do it. See exactly where i’m shouldn’t go, i’m running to it.

I been trying out the high road, and I hate it. I’ve got a lot of sins but you’re my favorite.

“That’s my good girl” He groaned out as she began to rock her hips against his cock. He was perfectly snug and could feel his tip bumping against her womb. “Such a good puppy. You know how Daddy likes you to ride his cock.” He choked out as he ripped her top open, firm hands fondling her breast. A gasp escaped her lips as she felt herself become even wetter at her words. “Better shut your mouth puppy.” He cooed. “Someone might hear you screaming my name. We wouldn’t want that know would we?” He knew she didn’t care, nobody could fuck her like Harry could.

And I know you’re performing, but it’s working for me. We can talk about it in the morning

“Please” she sobbed as she swirled her hips. She needed him to fuck her like she deserved. She needed to cum.

“Please what puppy? You want me to fuck you like the filthy little whore you are? Fuck you like I own this pussy of yours?” She let out a wet moan as he placed her feet down on the ground and started fucking up into her. “Awe. You’re just creaming all over my cock puppy.” He chucked. “I bet your boyfriend can’t fuck you like this uuu. That’s why you always come back to daddy so you he can take care of you. Isn’t that right you filthy whore.” She held onto his shoulders as she let herself be fucked into another dimension.

“Did you hear that? I think someone’s coming? Better be quiet puppy.” He cooed as he flipped her over and took her from behind. She covered her mouth as her stomach bubbled. “Y/n?” Her boyfriend called. “Are you out there?” They heard footsteps coming closer but neither one of them spoke. Her mouth dropped open as her orgasm was at it’s peak. Before she could come the footsteps faded and were soon no longer heard. “Say cheese puppy” Harry snickered as he pulled out her phone and took a picture, quickly hitting send under her boyfriends contact.

“Oh fuck.” Y/n felt like her body was on fire, her orgasm gushing out as Harry filled her with him hot cum. Giving both of them a minute to breathe, he slowly placed her on her back. “Never forget.” He sighed. “I own you.” He placed her legs on his shoulders and took another.

“Fuck it, let’s do it again”

[blueraineshadows]

Feelings and an Approval Badge

Imelda Reyes x F!MC 🌶

Part 4 - angst/fluff/indication of spice

Master List for this fic thread

The Clock Tower was busy this evening, more people coming along to spectate Crossed Wands than ever before. Its popularity was growing, and its main attraction was the teaming up of MC and Sebastian Sallow.

Imelda leant against the wall, arms folded, her eyes trailing MC moving across the floor as if in a dance, spells firing from the tip of her wand. Her face was set in deep concentration and it was as sexy as fuck. Imelda sighed and tried to look away, but her gaze was drawn back to MC, she just couldn't help it.

What pissed her off the most was the unspoken communication going on between MC and Sebastian. As duelling partners go, those two were undeniably unstoppable. They just seemed to click, their movements like a dance, in tune, and they didn't even have to speak to achieve it.

Then the duel was over. Of course, they had won. Imelda watched as MC and Sebastian turned to each other, smiling, hands raised for a victory high five in the air. Sebastian put a hand on MC's shoulder, and the look they shared was private, full of their secrets.

Imelda felt her guts twist with venom. Why did it bother her so much? Her spat with MC in the shower flashed through her mind, the rage, the envy, and the burning heat of MC's fingers fucking her. Imelda grit her teeth, her thighs clenching despite her best efforts to focus on the rage.

Had MC let Sebastian touch her? It was what she had threatened to do. Imelda told herself it didn't matter. Fucking was fucking. It didn't do to get attached. You only got hurt that way. She had learned her lesson.

Imelda pushed herself away from the wall, done with Crossed Wands for the night. As she strode for the door, MC caught her eye, Imelda scowled. MC seemed to sigh, but Imelda wasn't going to wait around to see anymore.

....*....

"Have I done something to upset you, Reyes?" Sebastian whispered. He leant across his studying towards her. "You've been extra prickly of late."

Imelda looked up from her parchment, her best 'fuck off' glower on her face.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up. "Oop, and there it is." He shook his head and went back to his book.

Imelda flicked her gaze across the library before scowling back at Sebastian. "Not everything is about you, Sallow," she hissed.

He looked at her, thoughtfully, for a moment. They continued to make their notes. Imelda wished she had chosen another seat.

"Look, whatever it is, maybe I can help?" Sebastian said quietly. He sighed. "I know I'm not Anne..."

He trailed off. Imelda's lips tightened with fury. How dare he try and be nice to her! "No, you are not!" She snapped with a hiss. "And I don't need your help."

She didn't need anyone's help. She began to pack up her study things, her face like stone. Sebastian watched her, his face creased with frustration. "Well, don't say I didn't offer," he said, shaking his head.

"Oh, fuck off," she growled. She ignored his pissed off frown and marched out of the library.

....*....

With exam season approaching, and beyond that, graduation was looming, and then they would all be out in the big, wide world. Imelda was beginning to feel the strain. She had applied for several Quidditch team try outs, but had not received any word back yet. Her parents were pushing for her to get good grades as a back up, and that alone was enough to fuel her constant bad mood.

To make matters worse, Imelda seemed to come up against Hogwarts darling duelling couple everywhere she went. They ate side by side, they often sat together in classes, and he even came down to the Quidditch pitch when they did practise sometimes.

The only time she saw MC without him was in their dorm room, but Imelda threw up her icy exterior and refused to even look at MC. It was bad enough that she had to sleep in the bed next to hers, being able to smell her scent, to remember when she had slid into bed beside her that time.

One night she had heard MC quietly crying into her pillow. Imelda had lain there, stiff as board, hating the sound, but fought against the urge to go and offer comfort. Showing affection bred affection, and she wasn't that type of girl. MC needed to pull her socks up and grow a backbone. Imelda held her hands over her face, hating how mean that sounded in her own head. But, she was Imelda, and being harsh was her thing.

....*....

Imelda put her broom away and double checked the Quidditch store room before locking up. A quick flight before bed was always the best way to clear her head before settling for the night.

She strode across the grounds, her mind on the hopes of professional Quidditch team try outs, when she heard a shout. She turned to look and paused in her step. Sebastian was running, at least he was trying to, with MC cradled in his arms.

Her chest tightened, a flicker of panic flashed through her, MC did not look good.

"What happened?" She demanded, running towards Sebastian.

"We stumbled across some poachers," he gasped. There was blood on his face. He looked down at MC. "She was hit with a spell. I've given her Wiggenweld, but she won't wake up!"

Imelda hated the fear in his voice. It made hers flare out sharper. "Hospital wing, now," she snapped. "I'll come with you."

....*....

Sebastian was pacing the corridor outside the hospital wing, his own wound patched up and healing nicely, but he was pale. He was scared. MC had still not woken up.

"Sit down, Sebastian," Imelda sighed. "You're making me dizzy pacing about like that."

He turned to look at her, his face screwed up in agitation, then he sighed and joined her on the bench. He put his elbows on his knees and held his head in his hands. "It's my fault."

"Did you cast the hex on her, then?" Imelda asked.

"Of course not!" He growled.

"Then, how is it your fault?"

He sat up, leaning his head back against the wall. "I should have been there to block it."

Imelda looked at him. She had never really been into boys, but she wasn't blind either. He was a handsome fucker, she could see why he had little admirers sighing over him. His name was branded into more than one desk in the classrooms, surrounded with little hearts. It made her want to hurl her guts up, personally, but she supposed she understood.

He was the handsome, charming boy, with a quick tongue and an even faster wand. It was obvious him and MC were close, anyone could see it. And, of course he had wanted to save her.

The next words out of his mouth were like a punch to her gut. "I can't lose her too."

Imelda swallowed. Anne. She had suffered at the hands of a curse, never to be the same again. Her gaze swung to the hospital wing doors and she completely understood his pain. After all, she had lost Anne too. Sending an owl wasn't the same as having her here, having a friend to laugh with, share things with.

"MC is a tough one to crack, Sebastian," Imelda said. "Give her time and she will make it through this latest episode too."

"I hope you're right."

....*....

MC winced, her eyes fluttering open. The fuzzy surroundings of the hospital wing sharpened into view. She blinked a few times, mentally assessing the sore bits of her body, but her hand was warm, held gently by someone. She looked down.

Imelda was seated by the bed, her head resting on an arm on the mattress beside MC, sound asleep. She was holding MC's hand. MC took a moment to process what she was seeing. Imelda wasn't a hand holder. At all.

Rather than disturb Imelda, and risk the wrath that would be sure to follow the discovery of such a display of affection, MC closed her eyes again and drifted back into sleep.

....*....

MC returned to the dormitory after 4 days in the hospital wing. Imelda was dressed ready for classes when MC wandered back from the bathrooms after her shower, her hair still damp.

"All set to return to normal?" Imelda asked.

MC gave her a smile and nodded. "I can't wait, actually. I was getting rather bored stuck in bed all day."

Imelda could think of a few things to liven up a day in bed. The beginnings of a flush spread up her neck. She grabbed her robe and headed for the door, quickly. "Good to see you back on your feet," she said, pausing at the door. "I'll see you in class."

As she walked towards the Great Hall for breakfast, Imelda felt a strong hand on her arm tugging her in closer, her head whipped up, a retort ready on her tongue. It was Sebastian, looking rather serious for first thing in the morning. Her retort faded and she frowned. "What do you want?"

"I've got one thing to say to you, Reyes, and you'd better take note," he said, firmly. Her frown deepened. "You hurt her, even just a little, and you'll have me to deal with. Do you understand?"

Imelda stopped in her tracks and stared up at him. He paused too, his hand a death grip on her arm. He looked positively feral for a second. "Nobody hurts MC without facing the repercussions. Nobody."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Let's just say, me and MC had a little chat," he said, smirking now. He relaxed his grip a little, but didn't let her arm go. He started walking, leading her on. "At least I know now why you've been extra snippy with me. Had you scared I was getting a taste of what you've been enjoying, eh Reyes?"

Imelda's cheeks darkened with fury and embarrassment. "She told you?"

He shrugged, his smirk widening. "She's my best friend. Deep, dark secret sharing is kind of our thing."

Imelda had her mouth clamped shut tightly, her teeth grinding painfully. She couldn't believe MC had spilled the truth to him, and after she had been so nice to her lately. Well, sort of. In her own way.

Sebastian chuckled and leant close to her ear. "Don't waste this chance, Imelda," he said. "You've got lucky with MC. Don't fuck it up, or I mean it, I will come for you."

She glared up at him. "Oh, fuck off Sallow, you arrogant prick."

He laughed and let her go, pausing to watch her storm off towards the Great Hall. He pointed after her. "You have to love me now, Reyes. Especially since it sounds like I'll be seeing a lot more of you."

Imelda refused to give him the satisfaction of a reply. But she sure felt like throwing her head back and letting out a furious scream into the air.

....*....

Imelda fumed all day. She ignored MC's attempts to approach her, and she felt like slapping the smug little smirk off Sebastian's face every time she caught his eye.

She hated being caught at a disadvantage, and they had snared her like some idiotic mooncalf.

She hated people knowing her private business. She also couldn't shake the burning desire to grab hold of MC and fuck her senseless. The bitter pill to swallow with that was the fact that now, MC came with a little badge saying 'Sallow Approved'.

But, of course. It was like he said. Nobody fucked with MC without having to deal with him as well. Best friends for fucking life them two, and it grated on her nerves something terrible.

Or did it? Oh, what did she know? Her emotions were a stinking shit storm right now, and she had no idea what the fuck was going on.

When she entered the dormitory to change for Quidditch Practise, MC was sitting on her bed as though waiting. She leapt to her feet when Imelda appeared. Imelda grunted and made for her bed.

"Not so fast, Reyes," MC said. She darted forward and grabbed her arm.

Imelda stared down at MC's hand, scowling. "What is it with you and Sallow being all grabby hands today?"

MC giggled. "He spoke to you, didn't he. He said was going to."

"He's a first class prick," Imelda said.

Another giggle escaped MC and Imelda wondered if her bitch tongue was slipping a little. It wasn't the standard reaction.

"He just cares, that's all," MC shrugged. "We both do."

Imelda eyed MC, a little nervously, if she was honest. Then she gasped. MC leant forward and pressed her lips to Imelda's. It was a firm, quick kiss, and then MC let go, a small smile on her lips.

"Enjoy practise," she said, brightly.

Imelda licked her lips. They tingled hotly. "I thought you didn't want to kiss. It's too personal."

MC was making her way to the door, her arse looking fucking heavenly in tight trousers. She turned and smiled at Imelda. "Maybe I changed my mind," she shrugged. The wink she gave Imelda was sinfully flirty. "See you later."

And then she was gone, the door closing against the waft of her perfume. Imelda stood there for a moment, staring at the door. And then, slowly, a satisfied little smirk lifted her lips.

She always got horny after Quidditch Practise and she was going to pin that little minx down and fuck her senseless when she got back.

[xoxoxoz]

heyy :D it’s the jeemin anon again ! can i request again? really enjoyed the one you wrote for me b4 😞!! jeemin x fem!reader, fake dating into lovers tropes! soo your two friend groups dared the two of you to fake date each other because they’re the only one who knew that you both like each other >< !! (jeemin is the top! like u said not in nsfw way 😭) take your time writing this!!

THANK YOUUU 🩷

Hi Jeemin Anon! Thanks for another adorable request💘

Bang Jeemin x F!reader

⚠️: fluff, comedy, soft, cutiepatootie JeemY/n

Jeemin hated group projects for one reason only and that was people’s lack of focus on their task. Unfortunately, she was that person. Her reason?

You.

“If you want us to pass this stupid poster assessment, I suggest you keep your eyes on your laptop instead of Y/n” Yunah mumbled tiredly.

Moa, Jihyun, and Chanelle looked up from their laptops.

“How about opening your eyes Yunah? We’re not gonna get anything done with you sleeping all the damn time” Jihyun fired back, slapping a stack of paper into Yunah’s face.

“Ow! I wasn’t sleeping okay? I was resting my vision”

“You’re unbelievable. And Bang Jeemin, if you don’t stop staring at Y/n, I’m gonna stab these crayons in your eyes so you don’t have to ever see her again!”

Jeemin jumped at the threat and began typing away. “I’m sorry. She just looks really pretty”

“You say that every single time. She looks the same!” Jihyun exclaimed as all heads turned to your group’s table in the classroom.

Your group are known to be the pretty girls of the school, consisting of Funa, Minju, Moka, Jiwoo, and of course you.

Although Jeemin did find the other girls pretty, you caught her eye (and heart) easily the day you were introduced as the new student. Being Funa’s cousin, you fitted in and became very well liked by the entire school.

“Jeemin’s looking at you again” Jiwoo whispered.

You turned your head and caught the girl’s eyes just before she averted her attention back to her laptop like nothing happened.

“She totally likes you, Y/n. Just ask her out” Moka said.

“Just because she looks at me doesn’t mean she likes me. She has a line of girls going after her so there’s no way she’d pick me” you slouched in your seat and pouted.

“Y/n, I swear on my DPR Ian album that she likes you too. She looks at you like you put the stars in the sky, do I really need to go on?” Minju smiled but you shook the delusions away.

“You guys are just trying to make me feel better”

Funa pursed her lips and leaned towards Jiwoo. “I’ve never met anyone more oblivious than my own cousin”

“I agree. Didn’t you tell Moa to convince Jeemin in confessing? These two have been liking each other longer than I remembered, it’s killing me”

“Me too but Moa said Jeemin isn’t budging. Apparently Jeemin thinks Y/n and Minju are secretly dating”

Minju heard the conversation and her eyes widened. “What the—I like Jihyun! I thought I’ve made that obvious”

“Not obvious enough for her to finally ask you out on a date” Moka teased, earning a playful glare from Minju.

“What are you guys talking about?” You whispered.

Funa suddenly had an idea. “We were just discussing Jiwoo’s plan of going to the fun fair tonight!”

Jiwoo frowned. “We were?”

Funa pinched her thigh under the table and spoke through gritted teeth. “Yes. We. Were”

“OW—Oh yeahhhh. I think it would be nice for us to hang out after all these assessments”

You slowly nodded. “Oh that sounds fun”

Minju smirked at Funa and played along. “We should invite Jihyun’s group too. The more the merrier right Moka?”

The Japanese girl smiled cheekily. “Yeah so I can see Chanelle”

“Wait we’re gonna invite them? Oh my god, I need to shop for a new outfit. What’s Jeemin’s favourite colour? Sky blue right? Oh god oh god” You rambled and opened the Pinterest app on your phone for some inspiration.

The girls high fived each other before Funa stood up and walked over to Jihyun’s group. “Hey there”

All were surprised to see the pretty Japanese girl smiling at them. Moa felt her face go red.

“H-Hey Funa. What’s up?”

“Just wanted to ask if you were all free tonight?”

“We’re actually studying tonight—OW!” Chanelle hissed as Moa kicked her under the table.

“Yes we’re free. Why do you ask?” The Thai student chuckled shyly.

“The girls and I are planning to go to the fair. Some extra company would be great” Funa put on her best flirtatious tone and effortless wink towards Moa.

“Sounds good. We’ll all be there”

Funa chuckled and brushed her fingers under Moa’s jaw. “You better be. 6pm sharp. Don’t keep us waiting”

The group watched Funa walk away before sending a glare towards their Thai member.

“Moa seriously? We aren’t even halfway done with this poster” Jihyun huffed.

“Hear me out. Funa brainwashed me”

“Oh shut up” Jeemin mumbled.

“No no keep hearing me out. All your crushes will be there hello? It’s about time we stopped being cowards and finally ask them out! Especially you Jeemin—Hold on I’m getting a phone call” Moa awkwardly chuckled and took out her vibrating device.

“You’re seriously taking a call in the middle of class?” Jihyun pinched her nose bridge.

“Funa why are you calling me? You were just here a few seconds ago” Moa whispered, seeing the girl stare at her from the other table.

“I know I’m sorry but I didn’t wanna wait until lunch. We have a plan but make sure Jeemin isn’t listening”

Moa looked towards Jeemin cautiously, seeing that she was daydreaming again. Typical.

“What’s your plan?” Moa sighed.

“Y/n and Jeemin are the biggest cowards I’ve seen in my life. I can only think of one way to try and get them to finally be together”

“And that is?”

“Daring them to fake date. Now I know it sounds a bit childish but I’m sure it’ll get one to finally say something”

The Thai student massaged her temple. “If I didn’t like you so much, I would’ve found this idea silly. But I’ll trust your word on this”

“Did you just say you like me?”

“ANYWAYS how are we starting this plan of yours?”

“Make some space at your table. We’ll join you in a bit”

“Alright” Moa quickly responded and ended the call. “Scoot over everyone”

The group blinked with confusion but moved anyways as Funa’s group took their belongings and slid into the empty chairs across Jihyun’s table.

“Hi!” Minju waved directly at Jihyun.

“H-Hi?”

“Hope you don’t mind us joining. We need some inspiration for this project” Minju smiled sweetly that got Jihyun running laps.

“And also to talk about the plan tonight. I’m very happy you’re all coming with us” Jiwoo said, eyeing Yunah a bit longer than usual.

Yunah shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

“Hi Jeeminie” You waved at the taller girl.

“H-Hi Y/n! You look pretty”

You looked down at your uniform and giggled. “We’re all wearing the same clothes”

Jeemin face palmed. “You’re right but you just make it look better than everyone else”

“Aw that’s so sweet of you to say. Thank you”

“Yuck. This hurts to watch, but anyways, tonight sounds like a lot of fun” Moa commented.

Jiwoo slowly smirked. “But you know what’ll be fun right now?”

You looked cluelessly at her. “What?”

“A little game of truth or dare”

Jihyun leaned back and sighed. “We have an assessment due”

“And it can wait. This would be a good break for us”

“Well Jiwoo, since you asked for it, truth or dare?” Chanelle grinned.

“Easy. Truth”

“Is it true your pants ripped in front of everyone during P.E?”

“Fuck you. I pick dare now”

Chanelle wiggled her finger. “No no no. You have to stick to your first decision”

“Ugh yes it’s true! I don’t know why I got detention for it” Jiwoo crossed her arms, rolling her eyes the laughter from everyone else. “Moving on. Jeemin, truth or dare?”

“Uh…truth?”

“Do you find Y/n pretty?” Jiwoo asked and batted her eyelashes as a little tease.

“Of course I do”

“Then I dare you to date her—OW!”

Funa slapped the back of Jiwoo’s head. “That’s not how you play truth or dare, idiot”

“And you’re ruining the plan” Moka added within a whisper.

“Sorry Jiwoo’s old brain forgets the rules sometimes. Let’s continue” Funa flicked her wrist.

“Y/n, truth or dare?” Moa asked this time.

“I feel bold today so I choose dare”

“I dare you and Jeemin to fake date until the end of the fair tonight”

“What?!” You and Jeemin yelled in unison.

“Scared?” Moa mocked.

You straightened your posture and puffed out your chest. “No! That dare is gonna be a piece of cake”

‘If only I didn’t get a limited time’ You thought.

“And if Jeeminie is okay with the dare too”

The taller girl used her book to fan her face. “I don’t mind it at all. What do we get out of this dare?”

“You’ll see later” Moka patted your back.

“So Kim Y/n, will you be my fake girlfriend tonight?”

“I’d love to, Bang Jeemin”

(Time Skip cuz we need our JeemY/n content asap)

“What did I say about biting your fingernails?” Jihyun gently slapped Jeemin’s hand away from her mouth.

“I’m nervous okay? Do I look good?”

Jihyun took a step back to scan the outfit.

“You look great Jeemin, don’t worry so much”

“There they are!…Holy shit” Chanelle pointed, her jaw slowly dropping.

Jeemin turned around and almost went into cardiac arrest when she laid eyes on your beautiful group. Mostly you.

She felt the world go into slow motion as you approached closer in a sky blue sundress and a smile so bright that it put the stars to shame. The lights from the fair made you look angelic and Jeemin concluded that she didn’t need to know what heaven was like anymore.

“Hey guys!” Funa waved excitedly and clung onto Moa’s arm.

“Minju you look stunning” Jihyun breathed out with amazement, making Minju smile shyly.

“Thank you”

“Ready for a fun night?” Moka booped Chanelle’s nose who nodded enthusiastically.

“I’ll count this as our first date, Noh Yunah” Jiwoo winked and put her arms around the taller girl.

“D-Date?”

Jeemin still had her jaw on the floor which you laughed at. “Do I look that good Jeeminie?” You asked and did a little twirl.

“Good? You look so…wow. I feel so lucky to be your girl-FAKE girlfriend!” Jeemin quickly corrected herself, not catching the slight disappointment in your face.

“Yeah…fake girlfriend”

“I think we should all split ways and meet up at the food area just before the fireworks start” Jiwoo suggested, earning a approving nod from everyone.

Jeemin offered her hand to you. “Ready to make this night memorable?”

You held her hand gently.

“Lead the way”

Throughout the night, Jeemin managed to impress you with her amazing skills in almost every game, winning plushie after plushie that she had to get you a wagon to carry it all. She ended up dragging the wagon in the end after claiming that a Princess should never carry all her stuff.

You two shared some cotton candy, milkshakes, and made each other DIY bracelets that matched love heart charms.

As it was almost time for the fireworks to happen, you and Jeemin stood by the food trucks, waiting for the others arrival. The taller quickly took off her jacket and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“A Princess shouldn’t get cold”

“Aw Jeemin, you’re such a sweetheart”

The girl smiled before looking at her phone, seeing a message from Chanelle, Moa, and Jihyun.

[Jihyunnie 🍫: It’s now or never, Bang Jeemin. Tell her how you feel]

[Nelle🌙: don’t back out girl. This is your only chance]

[Aom 🍒: CONFESS YOU IDIOT!]

Jeemin felt the uneasy feeling in her stomach as she put her device away. “Hey Y/n, can I show you this place while we wait?”

“Yeah sure”

She took your hand again and led you to a hill that showed a great view of the entire fair underneath the moonlight.

“Wow” you exhaled at the beautiful scenery. “It’s gorgeous”

“Y/n, there’s something I want to tell you”

You looked into her eyes and felt nervous at how serious the taller girl had looked. A face you’ve never seen before. “What is it?”

Jeemin started hearing the 10 second countdown from the crowd for the fireworks. She held your shoulders and looked deeply into your eyes.

“First of all, I had an amazing time tonight, and that’s only because you were by my side for the entirety of it. I don’t think I can handle bottling my feelings anymore because it’s hurting me so so bad”

“Jeemin? What are you saying?”

“I don’t want you being my fake girlfriend anymore, Y/n. I want it all to be real. I love you so much that I can’t bear to imagine seeing you with anyone else”

Your eyes widened. “You love me?”

“So much Y/n. I’m sure it’s not the first time you’ve heard it from someone, considering there’s a line of people who want you just as bad as I do. But I completely understand if you don’t feel the same you know—“

You had to admit seeing her ramble was super cute but you didn’t want to waste any more time and there was only one simple way to shut her up.

You cupped her face and your lips melted into her soft ones. At the same time the fireworks had erupted into the night sky, coating it in a variety of beautiful colours.

Jeemin’s heartbeat was ringing in her ears as she finally comprehended that her crush was kissing her. After tears, daydreaming, and staring, she finally got you, and there was no place she’d rather be than holding you close as you continued to share a romantic kiss.

“We did it!!” Funa screamed, coming out from behind the bushes with the other girls.

They all jumped around and cheered.

You pulled away from Jeemin’s lips and became shocked at seeing all your friends. “What are you all doing here?”

“We finally got you two together!” Jiwoo applauded.

“And it took a long time” Moa scoffed and wiped the fake sweat from her forehead.

“Wait, you all knew we liked each other?” Jeemin questioned while back hugging you.

“Duh! The whole world knew besides you two”

“So you’re welcome” Chanelle chuckled, holding Moka’s hand.

“Let’s go eat more food to celebrate!” Jihyun yelled and dragged Minju with her to the food trucks.

The other girls decided to follow, leaving you alone with Jeemin again. You faced her and leaned your head on her shoulder. “I love you Jeeminie”

She kissed your head and swayed you gently. “I love you too. You just made me the happiest woman alive”

“You complete me”

She continued holding you in her warm embrace as the fireworks continued, leaving it as the best night of your life.

A/N: Jeemin anon I’m honestly not proud of this fic because I think I could’ve done so much better SO IM SORRY IF ITS NOT AS GREAT AS YOU WANTED IT TO BE T^T I can make you another fic as an apology🥹🫶🏼