#i swear this is the start of a full model i just thought the face looked hilarious on its own

[kcamberart]

entei ball oc

[honeekyuu]

talk too much. [suna rintarou x reader]

ten. ruin

previous || masterlist || next

a/n. uhm....... yeah.

warnings: swearing, phone sex

✗ !!! minors do not interact !!! ✗

✗ !!! ignore timestamps !!! ✗

“No you didn’t-”

“I did!” Suna laughs on the other end, and you giggle into your cup in response, brain fuzzy and warm. “I walked into a room full of fourth years and pulled out my canvas and when I looked up— boom. Naked ass man, dick in my face-”

“Stop!” you wheeze, shaking your head. “How the hell did you not realize-”

“I was nervous! I was so nervous to be there that I didn’t even realize I was in the wrong fucking room.”

“Did you leave?!”

“No! Of course I fucking didn’t!” You hear two sharp thuds on the other end and know just by the sound that Suna’s pounding his fist on the table. “I tunnel-visioned my way into a nude modeling class as a first year — you really think I had the courage to get up and leave after that?” 

You take a long sip of your mixed drink, leaning back against the arm of your couch and sighing deep after you swallow. “So? Then what happened?”

“Uh – I missed syllabus day of Art as Identity and drew a charcoal recreation of some random guy’s penis. Komori has it framed in his kitchen. It’s a talking point for guests and friends alike.” 

“I can’t believe you’re this much of an introvert,” you say, shaking your head with a giddy grin. “You’re so loud with me-”

“Okay, go ahead and add salt to the wound-” he barks sarcastically, snickering when you break into laughter. 

“You’re funny, Suna,” you say openly after a minute, sighing into the admission. “More people should know how funny you are.” 

“Just you’s enough, I think — and maybe your friends, just so they like me,” he responds, quiet filling the space between you for a moment. You chew on your lip while you think.

“What’d you think of them?” you whisper after a moment. “My friends.”

“Your friends?” he repeats, confusion seeping into his voice. “I mean, I always thought Suga was a weird dude, but he’s overall pretty chill and funny. Especially with Alisa – they fight a lot, don’t they?”

You smile fondly. “She likes to make him angry. He’s really easy to rile up.”

“Yeah, I could tell. They seem like good friends. I feel like I got to know you better by meeting them.”

You sigh quietly, the question burned into your mind starting to feel like guilt. You shouldn’t ask, because the truth is that your friends are the perfect friends. They’re both perfect, and you don’t know where you’d be without them. And you’re not in the habit of comparing yourself to your best friend, because you know she’d kill you for doing that.

But still, the question lingers.

“And… Alisa?” you ask, feeling the terrible guilt burn in your throat like bile. “What’d you think of her?” 

You can hear the wheels turning in Suna’s head, the silence on his end growing haunting as the seconds tick by.

“I think she’s beautiful,” he says, and – through the horrible, disappointed swooping in your gut – you realize that him being this honest even when he can tell what’s bothering you only makes you trust him more. He knows what you’re looking for, and he makes no move to sugarcoat his thoughts for you. Your respect for him grows. “But me acknowledging that she’s beautiful and me having feelings for you can both be true. Can’t they?”

You shut your eyes, sighing. You feel like an idiot. “Yes.”

“Just because your best friend is beautiful, that doesn’t mean you’re not.”

“I know.”

“I can think she’s beautiful and also think you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen-”

“Oh, my God,” you laugh, embarrassed. “I get it, Suna. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah, it was,” he says, and you can hear his smile. “Promise not to do it again?”

“No,” you mutter. He laughs.

“Okay. I can live with that.” You feel the conversation end there, and, despite the embarrassment, you feel glad that you asked. “I was thinking about something a minute ago actually,” he says, interrupting your thought. “You call me by my last name.” 

You quirk an eyebrow, the previous conversation forgotten, and purse your lips. “Is it not your name?” 

“Yeah, but…” He swallows audibly and then laughs to himself. “Your friends also call me Suna.”

You warm, seeing where this is going. “Would you rather me call you Rintarou?” His name feels foreign in your mouth, as if your tongue is just as nervous as you are, but you kind of like the taste of it.

His name feels important.

The other end of the line goes completely silent, long enough that you pull your phone away from your face to check that the call’s still connected. 

“Shit,” he breathes finally. “I dunno anymore. I was gonna suggest it, but I dunno if I can handle that, Y/n.”

Your name sounds important on his tongue, too.

Your chest starts to flutter with nerves, but the alcohol wants you to push it. “What about Rin?” It tastes intimate and presumptuous, that cut of his name from three syllables to one. You want him to taste it, too.

“Christ,” he laughs. “God, Y/n. You tryna kill me? You sent your friends to wound me critically and now this?”

“I think I like that one, actually,” you breathe. “Rin.”

“Stop it,” he laughs weakly.

“Rin.” You roll it around in your mouth, sinking deeper into your couch while you consider it.

“Cut it out,” he whispers, soft and breathy.

“Rinnie.” You like the way your lips wrap around it. You like the space it takes up and the way your voice cradles it, round and warm.

“Y/n.” His voice isn’t round and warm. It’s sharp. Thick with warning. Dragging your own name down your back like the back of a blade, leaving your skin pebbled with goosebumps and the base of your spine tugging at a knot under your navel dangerously. “Cut it out.”

You shiver and press your thighs together. “Okay,” you breathe, a soft whine coating the sound. The alcohol wants you to push your luck, and it’s so wonderfully easy to listen. “Sorry, Rinnie.”

“Shit,” he groans quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Do what?”

“You know exactly fucking what.”

Your stomach flips at his tone, and there’s a pulse of desire between your thighs that has you biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your head is warm and staticky and desperately likes the sound of Suna’s voice, especially when he talks to you like that. 

“So?” you whisper, the courage there but incredibly small and entirely driven the liquor in your cup. “Are you hard?” 

Suna’s exhale is sharp, surprised. “W-What?” 

“You said over text.” Your face burns, but the idea of Suna Rintarou getting turned on by a combination of your voice and the way you say his name has you pushing out of your comfort zone. You want him too much. “That if I called you, you’d get hard. Are you?” 

He breathes hard for a beat, the sound shaky. And then he whispers, the sound soft and right in your ear in the most delicious way. 

“You know I am, pretty girl.” 

“How long?”

“Since you said my name.”

You shiver, pressing your thighs together hard. The flip of your nerves, low in your gut, is sharpened and heightened by the buzz of vodka in your veins, and you gasp quietly, trying to bring your heart rate back to normal.

“You should do something about that,” you whisper, skin vibrating when you do. You’d never be this confident sober.

He whines in response.

Suna Rintarou whines in your ear, desperate and impossible to deny. 

You feel your body become addicted to a man you’ve never met. 

“‘re you sure?” he breathes. “I don’t wanna do anything that you don’t-“

“Want you to do it,” you whisper, pulse racing and legs damn near going numb from how nervous you are. “Wanna hear you touch yourself.”

“Fuck,” he says, sharp and laced with frustration. “Fuck, Y/n — how am I supposed to say no to that?”

“You’re not,” you try. “Unless you really don’t want t-“

“I do. Fuck, I do.” He sounds the most sober he’s sounded all night, direct and honest and making your heart feel like it’s going to rip out of your chest. “Will-I…” You hear him swallow. “Will you do it, too? Are you turned on?” 

Your heart jumps into your throat, hope and desire mixing dangerously with the vodka. “Yes.” 

“What’s that an answer to?” he laughs, weak and nervous. 

“Both.” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Will you? Want you to feel good, too.”

“Really?” Your voice sounds insecure, even in your own ears. You still aren’t used to that — to him. 

“Yes,” he urges. “God, yes. I want to make you feel good so badly, baby.” He swallows. “Can I talk to you? Make you feel good like that?” Your shaky exhale must speak for you, because he just gives another weak laugh. “Yeah? Is that okay?”

You’ve never been so full of want that it makes you cry, but you’re pretty damn close at this singular moment in time. 

“Okay,” you say, voice wavering. Suna’s exhale on the other line is just as shaky. 

“Okay,” he whispers back. “Shit-Uhm. C-Can I have a picture, baby? If that’s okay?” 

You whine in protest, already embarrassed, but you can hear how nervous he is. How unused to this he is. That this is just as terrifying and embarrassing for him, that he’s putting himself out there for you. 

It would be rude not to reciprocate. 

You take a steeling breath and pull the phone away from your face, setting it on the coffee table and putting it on speakerphone. “I look kind of messy,” you say. You start to adjust your clothes, grimacing at the frumpy shirt and shorts you’re wearing.

“I like messy,” he says, and you laugh pathetically. 

“It’s not very sexy.” You pull your hair down and ruffle it to be as attractive as possible, and then you consider your shorts for a full two seconds before throwing caution to the wind and getting rid of them. They land on the floor with an audible fwip, and Suna’s silent on the other end.

“Please tell me you didn’t just take all your clothes off,” he breathes finally. “I don’t know if I’m in a state to emotionally handle that right now.” 

You giggle, face burning and heart pounding in your ears as you open your camera and angle it favorably. ”Not all my clothes.”

“Shit.” 

You cross one arm over your torso and use it to push your breasts up, watching them swell in the camera. A rush of heat burns at your ears and neck, and your lip wobbles while you take the picture. 

Lifting the phone close, you examine the photo. You can see all the flaws that you’ve always seen, and it makes you freeze with insecurity. Makes you want to delete it and back out.

But then you hear him, his quiet ‘baby?’ on the other end, and you remember who you’re talking to. 

You hope he won’t see all the flaws you do — but there’s a piece of you that knows he will see them, but not as flaws. Because that’s who he is. 

Breath held tight in your lungs, you send off the photo, and then your head starts to pound with anxiety. 

Will he like it? Will he think it’s awkward? Will he realize that maybe he thinks you’re pretty, but he’s not sexually attracted to you the way he thought he would be—

“Oh, holy shit-” Suna’s voice is tight, thick with an emotion that’s so clearly lust that even you can’t deny it. ”Holy shit, Y/n. You’re so fucking-” He cuts off, taking a shuddering breath. “Fuck, I might start drooling.” 

You laugh, the tension breaking a little. “You’re funny-”

“I’m not joking.” Your breath catches at the sharp snap of his voice — your heart lurches, and desire swirls violently in your gut, because Suna Rintarou’s voice is starting to do that to you. “I’m not fucking joking, Y/n — you’re the sexiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

You blink, sinking low on the couch. “What?” 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Y/n, you turn me on so much. I’m so fucking-” He laughs. “God, it’s embarrassing.” 

Your fingers shake as you press the phone desperately to your ear. “You’re so fucking what?” you ask meekly, nervous but craving more with every second that passes. 

He laughs again, self-deprecating. “I’m so fucking hard right now. Because of you. Because of this one photo.”

Your free hand drops between your thighs before you can think too long about it. “And you haven’t done anything about it yet?” 

“Oh, my God,” he groans, and you can hear the want in his voice. The strain in his tone as he tries to keep himself in line. “God, I’m not gonna last. I’m not gonna last with you, Y/n.” 

The pads of your fingers press to your clothed clit when he says your name — important, full — and it makes your desire curl and snap. You moan quietly, pursing your lips together to stop the sound — just a moment too late. 

“Fuuuck-” he says, reacting immediately to your voice. You hear shuffling, and then a burning, brutal exhale of relief, and you know he’s touching himself. The low whine trapped in his throat tells you as much. Tells you how badly he’s trying to keep his head on straight for you.  

You don’t want him to do that. You want him as lost as you are.

So you shut your eyes and lean your head back and let the alcohol take control. Let the fuzzy static in your head grow louder, let the desire throbbing in your core grow stronger. Let the choked whine in Suna’s throat take over, pulling you that much closer to the edge.

“Rin,” you breathe, yielding control to your limbs and smothering all hesitation in favor of slipping your hand past the band of your underwear. When your fingers touch down to your core, cold fingertips to searing hot skin, you moan louder. Loud enough to be heard and not caring enough to stop it. “Fuck, Rin— Can I have a picture, too?” He groans on the other line, shaky and uneven, and you whine in response. “Please? It’s only fair…”

He doesn’t say a single word back — just gives a trembling breath when you beg — but your phone buzzes against your face a moment later.

He’s got his hand down his sweats, the outline of his cock clear and the outline of his hand wrapped around it even clearer. His face is flushed a deep, searing red, and his parted lips are swollen and pink, eyes hooded with desire as he looks up into the camera. 

He’s in bed. He’s in bed, drunk and touching himself while thinking about you — the you in the photo, the you on your couch, touching yourself while you think about him, too. 

“Christ,” you whisper, eyes flying across the screen while your fingers dip low and slip with terrible ease past your entrance — two fingers in, the stretch heavenly, when your eyes land on the outline of his cock. “I don’t know if I can take you, Rinnie.” 

His inhale is shocked and laced with a moan, and then he’s coming undone in your ear. 

“You can take it, baby. I know you can take me so well.”

“Oh, God,” you gasp, back arching off the couch and fingers curling hard against your walls. “You would make me-”

“Gonna make you take it,” he finishes in a voice so rough and broken that you know he’s stopped trying to keep control, too. “Wanna make you take it, wanna show you how good you are for me. How much you’re made for me-”

“Oh, my God, I’m-”

“Wanna make you come around me. Wanna make you fall apart on my cock, pretty girl.”

“Rin,” you squeak in warning, your gut curling hard with desire, tension so close to snapping. “Rinnie, I-”

“Want my name on your tongue when I come inside you.” His voice is pitching up, breath stuttering and syllables twisting short in his mouth. “Want my name in your mouth when I ruin you for anyone else.”

It’s only right, then, that you cry his name when your orgasm slams into you full-force, pulsing and crashing down over you without warning.

By the time you come back to yourself, your walls are twitching with aftershocks around your fingers, and your breath is loud and heavy in your ears. 

Suna’s own breath is shaky in your ears, too. He whispers your name, tired and drained but still full. Still important.

You might have ruined him for anyone else, too.

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Jenna never thought that she would be paying the bills of the videographer from her next movie.

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader.

Warnings: NSFW, smut. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. G!P reader. Mentions of: Sex, dirty talking, sexting. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's note: Meh. Don't know how I feel about this one yet, sorry for any typos. 💔

MASTERLIST.

Jenna considered herself a very busy woman. Having to shoot movies every couple of months, press circles, parties to attend, and taking care of her own mental health could be challenging sometimes. She didn't have a single second for herself for a very long time. God, she couldn't even remember when was the last time she even went out for a drink, watched a movie outside of her own home, or even kissed a stranger at some stupid nightclub. She was too busy to live, and that made her rethink about all of the stuff she's been building for herself. It made her sad, even.

Until Jasmin came along with some ideas, obviously.

"It's just a stupid website, Jen. You don't even need to leave your house or your bedroom. Masturbating in the comfort of your own home." Jasmin rambled while searching for the website name in her phone, Jenna looking at her with an apprehensive (and embarrassed) look on her face. I mean, the best place to have this conversation is definitely not in the middle of one of the Scream VII sets, which they just started filming. "Don't be such a prude, girl. Live a little."

"I'm not, it's just-" She took a deep breath. "I've been out of the market for a while now, I don't even know what to say, or do." She sighed, making Jasmine roll her eyes jokingly.

"Girl, that's bullshit. And plus, you don't even need to say anything. You choose a model, girl or guy, watch their livestream, and pay them to do anything you ask. It's wild." It was obvious that Jasmine was a loyal customer on that website.

"Anything?" Jenna regreted asking that the minute it came out of her mouth.

"Sis, last sunday, I was talking with this chick..." And then Jasmine went on rambling about how she made the poor girl squirt on her own laptop camera for mere $500 bucks.

Jenna looked aghast.

And yet she was interested enough to browse on that website at 11PM while everyone in that hotel floor was asleep. Obviously, she clicked almost immediately in her area of interest. It was minimalist, yet full of information at the same time. You could choose between all sorts of categories; MILFs, findoms, intersex, you name it. She browsed a little on each category, not finding anyone that really sparked her interest, untill she came across one certain page under the intersex category. @(Y/N)xz. A boring username, to say the very least. But when she clicked on your profile, you were just in the middle of your livestream. Without hesitation, she clicked right on top of it, and she could swear she almost felt the tip of your cock poke her face.

You were standing on top of your bed, on your knees while you stroked your cock very slowly. The camera position made it impossible for someone to see your head, which made Jenna curious on how you looked like. Then, a raspy moan drove Jenna out of her thoughts, looking at the screen one more time. You were massaging your breasts with one of your hands, while the other stroked your cock in the most erotic way Jenna has seen. She felt something the moment you started thrusting your dick on you hand, making the latina girl wish that you were pounding her instead.

She watched you for a couple of minutes, trying her best not to touch herself, let alone interact with you. She would not succumb into feeding that industry that sexualizes men and women, objectifying their bodies as if they were nothing but a piece of meat.

jenna2709: you look so hot fucking your hand like that.

jenna2709: wish you were fucking me instead.

You weren't the type of person to really respond the chat if they weren't paying or if they weren't loyal customers, but somehow, you felt like answering that one. You held down the base of your cock and slapped it on the palm of your hand a couple of times. "Wish I was fucking you too, Jen."

Oh, that drove Jenna to the edge. She immediately got up and closed the door, locking it behind her. She sat down on her bed, not taking her eyes off of you for a second. She knew her panties were already wet, but only when she touched her clit while laying on her bed, she realized that she would need to change her underwear as soon as possible. It amazed the actress that you made her pussy dripping wet and she didn't even knew your name. Her hand started to make slow and circular movements on her throbbing clit, and the fact that she felt so dirty and wrong for doing that made everything better.

She looked at the chat, seeing that some girl (with the most obnoxious username ever) sended you $100 asking you to moan her name. Which you proudly did, the sound of you saying that chick's name almost made Jenna close the laptop and go to sleep. Instead, she clicked on some keys on her keyboard and waited for the magic happen.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $500 with the message: now, you moan my name.

You looked surprised, but thankfully the camera positioning made impossible to look at your face. That was probably the highest tip you've ever recieved live. "$500 bucks to only moan your name? Come on, baby... You can do better than that, huh?"

She was right, Jenna thought. I can do better that only asking for her to moan my name as if I were a hormone-filled teenager.

jenna2709: fine.

jenna2709: tell me what would you do if i were in front of you.

"Oh, you know what I'd do, baby." You laughed a little, holding down to the base of your cock and letting it hit your belly a couple of times. "Have you on all fours, holding your hair in a ponytail and railing you raw, until you couldn't function anymore. Until you forget your name. Just like this."

You started to thrust on your hand again, making it sure that your viewers (and her) could see your cock going in and out of your hand. Jenna felt overwhelmed, but in the best way possible. Right now she had completely lost all of her ideals. Fuck the rules, fuck the noises, fuck that stupid industry. She just wanted to feel you inside of her, filling her up with your cock and your cum. The actress never felt this dirty before, and she was loving every second of it. "You wished I was doing that to you, huh?"

jenna2709: you know i do.

Jenna couldn't stop looking at you and thinking about your face. The camera position made it impossible for someone to see your head, but there were a few things Jenna learned about your identity just by analyzing you & your room. It didn't seemed it were your own room, it felt more like a hotel room or something. Smart, she thought. Not a single hair strand falling from your head, which could mean you had short hair. A few random tattoos here and there, nothing specific. You had only the left nipple pierced, for some unknown reason. And a scar right on the palm of your right hand. She knew she would never find you with that little information, but it comforted her that you were out there, somewhere.

"Fuck, I'm almost there..." Again, your voice distracted Jenna from her thoughts, and this time, she was able to think more quickly.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $1000 with the message: cum for me, will you?

"Shit, Jenna, you know it's all for you..." You started to thrust even more violently, every now and then slapping your own cock. Jenna felt close too, at that point her panties were pretty much ruined and her hand felt sore, but she wouldn't stop until she came with you.

And then you finally did. Thick ropes of cum fell right onto your white duvet, while you thrusted your member a little bit more to ride your climax out. Jenna's mouth watered, she couldn't stop imagining that thick cum inside of her, filling her up. And the thought of that made her cum as well, trying to be as silent as possible so no one could hear her moaning your name secretly. Little did she know that you were thinking about her too.

Jenna felt embarrassed after she was done, so she pretty much slammed her laptop shut, and got up to take a shower. She prefered to erase that moment out of her head, and erase you (and your delicious body) too. She was trying to figure out what excuses she would give to her accountant once he saw her bank statement for this month, when she fell asleep.

When she woke up, the next morning, she went on her day normally. Went through her routine and left her room, going to the set trying her best not to think about you and the way you moaned.

"Jenna!" The actress heard her name getting called the minute she stepped foot on that set. It was one of the videographers, Dave, who Jenna had been working since Scream V. "Let me introduce you my newest assistant. She's gonna work with you guys very closely this movie, so I thought I should introduce you two." Dave said, his accent making it clear that he was from NYC. "Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!"

(Y/N)? What a coincidence, Jenna thought, as she looked over Dave's shoulder and saw a girl walking towards them. Needless to say, she was gorgeous.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna." The girl smiled, and Jenna swore she had the most beautiful smile she has ever seen. Then, she stretched out her right hand so Jenna could shake it. The actress almost had a heart attack when she looked at that familiar scar which she had seen the day before through her computer screen.

[shortcakesturns]

Nic Sheff x female reader okay so like the reader also has some addictions but not drugs just weed and alcohol and maybe some self-harm too if you do that stuff and they basically try to help each other out but like Nic finds the reader like dead but not dead and yeah angst + fluff

Thank you!!

𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 - 𝐍𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐟𝐟

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝! 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬!!! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐫! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐨....

Living with Nic had been a roller coaster, with constant highs and lowest lows. Highs had been staying clean for days and lows were the days you were caught out in an alley buying from a mysterious man.

It wasn’t anything hard, so not a single thought crossed your mind while buying.

“it’s just weed nothings gonna happen.”

Weed wasn’t even the worst you had done, so you didn’t know why Nic was so adamant about you not buying anymore. Weed only took the painful thoughts away. Nic had pleaded with eyes full of worry for you not to go and buy. Here you were in a dark alley on a rainy night, meeting up with this random plug who offered to give you a good amount for a small price.

“10 bucks?” Confusion washed over your face.

“Yeah I mean, I just need to get rid of it.” he handed the bag to you.

“Alright man, thanks” You handed him the 10 bucks and strutted away feeling on top of the world for the deal you had just scored, you made your way to the car.

You glance at your phone, 2:48 am The phone reads. You glance at the text your mom sent about an hour ago still not knowing how to react.

“Y/n, you can't just keep ignoring us. All I'm saying is that it's bullshit you wasted your life when you could have gone to college like Amelia. Your sister is a perfect role model honey, love you!”

“Fuck Amelia and your petty bullshit momma, always Amelia this and Amelia that.” you talk to yourself leaving your mom on read.

You start your car and begin to head home, wondering what Nic would say if he saw that text, what he would say if he saw the weed you newly bought.

The drive was short, mostly when you're going 90 down a highway. Only takes around 10 minutes, the apartment you fled almost 45 minutes ago was now dimmed and seemed quiet from the window. You head up the stairs, play with your keys, and finally find the right one, playing with the handle you see the apartment is empty once you enter. A note is left on the refrigerator “went to get some food, I'll be back please be safe.”

You hastily open the fridge grab a bottle of tequila, rush to the bathroom, and lock it. Opening the window so the smell of weed would be faint instead of bold enough for Nic to walk in the door and notice. Turning on the water, you plug the drain to have a nice hot bath. You begin to undress and see the recently dried scars on your thighs, too far up for someone to see unless your clothes were off.

“Lucky you,” you said out loud yet again to yourself, it had been awhile since Nic had seen what your naked body had looked like, and you promised him you would stop.

“Yes Nic, I promise, I swear I'll never do it again.” the concern grew in his eyes as he traced his fingers over your cuts.

“Y/n…please. Never again,” he pleaded with you as tears fell down his face afraid he might lose you. That he might fail you.

You snap out of your thoughts and see the bathtub has filled up and you step in letting the hot water and steam consume you. You pop open the bottle of tequila and take a deep inhale of the cart you just bought, switching it out every time until your mind becomes hazy.

Something wasn't right, no you had gotten crossfaded before. Your head didn't feel light, it felt heavy and your movements were slow and you were struggling to move around, you couldn't focus. Had you been laced? What was going on?…. Your eyes began to go blurry and then it was black.

You could hear pounding on the door and the screams and cries of Nic, but you couldn't comprehend a thought, you felt so heavy and couldn't see.

“Y/n please, open this door please fuck. Are you okay?” his cries echoed through your head.

You tried to talk but nothing came out, you didn't move. A slam is heard, over and over again. The lock had come loose and you felt Nic hold your head above the water, now cold. When did that happen?

“Hello this is 911, whats your emergency.”

“Hello my girlfriend, she uh, she's passed out, she's barely breathing I-i uh- I think she overdosed? Send help please.” he breathes out shakily.

That was the last thing you heard before it all went faint and you woke up to the fluorescent lighting and hum. The occasional beep from a monitor.

Fluttering your eyes open, you see a curled-up Nic clasping your hand peacefully asleep and snot dried up around his bare nose. His eyes were red around the skin from wiping the tears away.

“Nic?” his head quickly jolts up and he stands up.

“Oh my god, hi sweetheart.” he grabs your chin gently kissing your lips afraid of hurting you. As if you were glass and he didn't want to break you. “Hold on, j-just hold on.” he presses the call button for the nurse.

“What happened? Nic…nic wh-”

“Baby, you were laced. Fentanyl. You're lucky you are even here, you were lucky to have the type of- no- not lucky at all but you didn't have the type that kills you instantly. but-” he drops his head into his hands pulling away from mine. “We have to talk.” he looks at me with his wide puppy eyes.

“Okay.” I look down at him. “You can't do this, you can't put yourself in danger. You can't lie anymore, you said you would be a better person for me. I said I would be a better person for you and you didn't hold up your end of the deal y/n. DAMIT.” tears threaten to fall from both of your eyes. He grabs your head and looks at you like nobody else exists in the world. His big eyes filled with tears was a sight that was engraved into your brain. “Just please baby. I'm here.” He cries.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry Nic. I just needed some time to wind down and I didn't know. I just didn't.” your voice breaks.

“Please we need to get through this together honey, I love you so much. I saw everything honey, please you need to get better for me. I can't stand for you to hurt yourself like this.”

“I love you, Nic, I promise I will change for you, baby.”

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬

Blood was thicker than water, but no bond was stronger than the one you shared with two of the fiercest and most savage protectors that stalked the earth, and when someone dared threaten what was theirs? Even the devil himself couldn’t save them.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ➣ Bodyguard!CW!Bucky Barnes x Model!F!Reader x Bodyguard!Winter Soldier

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ➣ 5k

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ➣ Fluff, angst, whump, swearing, panic attacks, gun violence, hostage situations (insults are used towards reader), tending to wounds, polyamorous and secret / forbidden relationship ➣ Protective!Bucky and Protective!Winter Soldier is an understatement, they also speak a lot of Russian

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ➣ I had the thought of why not have two Bucky's... and yeah, I ran with it. ➣ A very special thank you goes to @sgt-seabass for her help in looking for ways I could oomph this up, and thanks to her, a certain scene made an appearance!

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒔 ➣ Deadwood by Really Slow Motion ➣ Seven Nation Army (The Glitch Mob Remix) by The White Stripes, The Glitch Mob ➣ Sweet Dreams (Slowed / Reverbed by siasme) by Eurythmics, Annie Lennox, Dave Stewart

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ➣ @the-slumberparty's Week 3 Creator's Challenge — Masterlist ➣ @allcapsbingo ჻჻჻ 𝗕𝟱 — Model AU ჻჻჻ 𝗜𝟰 — "Not without you!" ჻჻჻ 𝗡𝟯 — Free Space — Bodyguard AU ჻჻჻ 𝗚𝟮 — Times Square ჻჻჻ 𝗢𝟭 — Vulnerability — Masterlist

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐚 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐤𝐨𝐯 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The big show had finally arrived–after weeks and months of preparation, you were about to take your place centre stage on the catwalk for something you could have only dreamed of doing. 

Having been raised in a family not sore for funds, you knew what it was like living in the lap of luxury; people waiting on hand and foot to serve you, extravagant and lavish shopping trips that would make any ordinary person’s eyes water at the total. It wasn’t necessarily a hindrance to your outlook on life — but you woke up to just how lucky you were. 

You were walking down the streets of New York with your bodyguards at your father’s insistence, and you came across a family dressed in ragged clothing and begging on the sidewalk. It was like the veil had been lifted and you could see clearly for the first time, not through the rose glasses you had worn since you were a child.

It was at that very spot you had ordered one of your bodyguards to stand with the family while you ran to the closest store to buy the family some dignity, much to the faux annoyance of the bodyguard that followed close behind you. 

“I think that’ll be enough,” he said, smiling when you carried an arm full of food products and toiletries to the counter. “They will appreciate it but I can’t have you buying the whole damn store, they won’t know what to do with it all.” You pouted at him and he chuckled, taking the bags of goods and offering his arm for you to take.

You could have sworn that since that moment, your two brooding followers looked at you with an unfathomable softness - a feat that you were sure was impossible from the smaller of the two, but nonetheless, it was there. Just like it was there now, the two of them stood in your dressing room with you while you got ready with an infinite number of stylists bustling around. Their reflections gave away that they were watching like wolves in wait, their teeth only baring when someone burst through the door unexpectedly. 

“You two have to calm down,” you started, swivelling in your chair to face them, ignoring the way that the wardrobe crew grumbled. “You’ll have a heart attack otherwise.”

Bucky laughed, his broad shoulders shaking in apparent mirth before they abruptly stopped, his face falling deadpan. “Not a chance.”

The guard next to him, James, stared at you, his face in shadow so you only just made out the slight eyebrow raise. He might have said something, though it was lost behind the black mask he wore. 

“C’mon, guys,” you whined. Nerves were making you fidget and you continued to ignore the scowling of the nail tech. “Humour me, I’m already nervous enough.”

If the room were not crowded with staff, you would have been wrapped in Bucky’s arms with soothing words, while James stood to the side and offered you a soft smile that brightened his eyes, his hand taking hold of yours. 

But you weren’t alone, you were amongst people that would have no qualms about throwing you to the wolves — the head of the pack being your father, who would downright turn into a monster if he found out the arrangement you had with his two best men. 

The secret had to be kept at all cost. 

“You will do fine.”

You looked at James and smiled. Out of the two, James struggled the most with displaying any kind of care or outward softness — entirely opposite to his partner. Though he had his moments when he managed to soothe you in his own way. “Thank you, Jamie,” you whispered, and he nodded once, his curtain of dark hair shifting with the sudden movement. 

“They won’t know what hit ‘em,” Bucky said, smiling widely and dare you say it, proudly. 

“Ten minutes!” A voice called from behind the closed door, and you sighed heavily. 

The makeup team did their final touches and cleared away swiftly under the piercing gaze of James, while Bucky watched the stylists move in and adjust your clothes. It was all so much - even after all the rehearsals it still felt like you were walking out there like a fawn, too weak and stumbly on heels that were too big with predators nipping at your heels. The wolves that protected you felt too far away.

“Hey, hey,” a muffled voice said, a blurred face hovered in your sight and you blinked. It was Bucky, and his voice was so low only you would hear him. “You with me, doll? ‘M here, c’mon. Deep breath for me.”

You startled and gasped sharply, the sudden expansion of your lungs making you cough. 

“Are you done?” Bucky asked the room at large, his gaze focused on the styling team who nodded quickly. “Get out.”

Shoes scrambled over the linoleum floor and James’ heavy boot falls followed before a slam of the door echoed. “They’re gone,” James said simply, walking back over to stand next to Bucky. “You will do so well, kisa,” he whispered, kneeling down so he could look up at you. His hands were cold when he grabbed yours, but you squeezed them back while taking a deep breath. “And we’re so proud of you, our girl, hmm?”

Bucky’s hand rested on your shoulder as James spoke and he squeezed. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, trying your hardest to stem the tide of tears so your makeup wouldn’t be ruined. “Yeah I-I will, I want you to be proud-”

“We always are, sweetheart,” Bucky interrupted. He kissed your forehead softly while James placed a hand on your thigh. “Always proud of our girl, aren’t we, James?”

“Navsegda i vechnost',” James replied. 

Bucky snorted and ruffled James’ hair, who let out an indignant huff. “Such a sap.”

A loud knock at the door made the two men turn around quickly, and it opened wide enough for Tracey, your favourite assistant, to peek her head through. Bucky and James relaxed at the sight of her, and you met her eye. “You’re up next, love,” she said before looking between your wolves. “Hey James, Bucky.”

“Thanks, Tracey, I’ll be out there in a second.” Tracey nodded and shut the door softly. You stood and brushed down your outfit, sighing softly. 

“You look stunning, doll,” Bucky whispered, cupping your cheek. 

James nodded and his eyes brightened above the mask. “Krasivaya, moy kisa.”

You smiled widely at their attention and you started walking forward. In an instant, the soft and comforting aura was dropped, replaced by one that billowed like smoke of fierce protectiveness while they flanked you. Staff gave you a wide berth and you were relieved; you needed the space. 

Bodies were flocking to and fro from the stage and amongst them, you spied Tracey standing by the stairs, clipboard in hand and a calm smile on her face amongst the chaos. “Hey,” you greeted, coming to a stop just before her. “All ready to go now, when am I on?”

Tracey glanced down at the clipboard and hummed. “Erica and Sophie need to do their thing, and then it’s you.” She glanced back up and pointedly stared at Bucky and James, who, naturally, didn’t flinch. “You boys can wait just here,” she said, pointing towards the steps. “Mind you don’t get in the way of everyone else.”

You heard James scoff and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” Bucky said, saluting. 

“Thank you.”

James and Bucky didn’t leave your side, however. They stuck like glue to you until it was your turn to make your way onto the catwalk, and always the gentlemen, they held your hands on the way up. “Can’t have you falling down. Now, go get ‘em,” Bucky said, beaming. 

The stage was bright, the cameras blinding with their constant flashes. A calm settled over you and the catwalk became an extension of your being — it was time to work. People and camera men clamoured at the base of the raised platform as you strutted to the end, and you ignored them, your eyes focused on a point at the far wall. 

You imagined Bucky and James waiting for you at the end at the stairs to keep your breathing even, your expression blank and calm. It worked a charm, until a loud shout rang out over the chaos. 

There was a man beside you suddenly, waving a Glock and a manic glint in his eye. “There ain’t enough fuckin’ money to save you, bitch!” Cold dread flooded your stomach and then his hand grabbed your bicep hard, the grip bruising. 

“Let me-”

“Let the girl go!” Bucky. He was standing on the catwalk, gun drawn, and face carved from stone. “You let her go, and I won’t shoot to kill.”

People were screaming behind you, and you winced, your vision blurring from the tears that burned your waterline. You didn’t want to die. The sudden cold bite of metal hit your temple and you whimpered — the gunman had you in his grip and he wasn’t going to let go, he wasn’t going to release you back to your wolves. 

The predatory glint in Bucky’s eyes told you all you needed to know; this was it. He wasn’t looking at you and the silent tears that fell unbidden down your cheeks, he was watching the gunman with such lethal vitriol it was a wonder he didn’t drop dead on the spot. 

“I said, let her go, and I won’t shoot to kill.” Bucky’s voice was low, a deep growl from the belly of the wolf. “You don’t want a third eye, do you?”

“Not until her bastard father-” You began to squirm, desperate to get away and back to Bucky and James, even though you couldn’t see the latter. “Stand still, bitch!”

You froze, and so did the world around you. The muzzle of his Glock pushed into your temple again with such force it made you grit your teeth. People were still screaming around you and there was shouting, pleas for safety and to lower weapons. 

Where the fuck was James? You sobbed and looked around frantically, there was no sign of him, but Bucky had changed his stance; shoulders straight and legs spread, it was as though he was preparing to pounce. 

“Get her father on the phone and maybe I won’t fuck her face up too badly,” the gunman yelled, pulling you close against his chest and wrapping the hand he had around your arm around your throat instead. “She can have an open casket, isn’t that what you want?”

He squeezed and you choked, staring wide-eyed at Bucky. Scrabbling against the man’s arms was doing nothing, but you kept trying — I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die — you begged, a continuous chant. 

Bucky’s lip curled in a snarl, and he glanced at you, eyes not softening, before staring back at the gunman. A chill flew down your spine at the absolute fury in his eyes. “I warned you.”

A quiet whoosh sounded far away, the grip on your throat lessened, and a wet splatter echoed right next to your ear, followed by the loud thump of a body hitting the floor.

“DOWN!” A pair of hands grabbed both of your arms and pulled you forward into a hard, broad chest. Screams from the people echoed around you and more gunshots cracked the air. 

“Oh my-” You gasped, staring down at the body that once held you like a bargaining chip. It was surreal. The person holding you ran, and you watched in shock as a pair of legs clad in tactical gear appeared beside you — James. 

“Dvigat'sya!”

“What-”

“Fucking move, you bastard!” A voice ordered above you over the screaming of the gathered spectators and you realised it was Bucky — Bucky was holding you to his chest in a kind of side hold while he pushed through the crowd, gun in hand. 

Someone managed amongst the fray to rush Bucky from the side and you screamed — he had a knife- “No, you fucking don’t!” Bucky roared, the hand with the gun somehow whipped up in time to roundhouse the man in the head, the crack of his skull loud enough to be heard over the chaos around you.

“Hold on, doll, you’re safe,” Bucky continued, his voice sharper than a knife in your ear. Fear spread like wildfire through your entire body and you seized up, the instinct to freeze setting in before you could comprehend his assurance. “Fuck, James, prikroy menya!”

“Idti!”

Arms swept under your knees and behind your shoulders, and you were resting against Bucky’s chest — eyes still wide with fear and confusion. People were running and scattering in their haste to get away, and gunshots still filled the air. You could see James behind Bucky with his Skorpion drawn, the muzzle flashing with each shot he took. 

There was no way to make sense of what had happened — you were just on the catwalk, doing your job, your passion, and now you were in Bucky’s arms while James slaughtered the remaining gunmen with no care for taking them alive. A switch had been flicked between the two of them, and you were helplessly struck dumb with the absurdity of it all. 

The night air was cold against your already goosebump stricken skin and you gasped, flinching instinctively and curling closer into Bucky’s chest. “I got you, sweetheart, hang on,” Bucky rushed. He was looking around with narrowed eyes, looking for something, when they widened. “James! There, go!” He jerked his head towards what he was searching for but James stood stock still, gun trained on the entrance of the venue. 

“Go, take her and get out of here!”

Bucky growled, a snarl on his lips and you whimpered. “I will not leave you the fuck behind, get your ass in the car and drive!”

“Ty, blyad', idiot, ya skazal tebe poyti, i vot ty prosto-”

Hearing them fight was worse than a knife to the guts, and you whined, reaching a hand out to James. “Please, I-”

“You heard her,” Bucky yelled over his shoulder while he stalked to what you saw was a car, the black SUV they had driven you here in. “Popast' v chertovu mashinu.”

The cold night air vanished when Bucky placed you on the back seat. “Bucky, what happened, I-I don’t-” You tried, but you were silenced when he sat next to you and pulled you close so your head could rest on his shoulder.

“You were targeted,” Bucky explained hastily. The sound of the driver’s door slamming shut made you flinch, and the car rumbled to life. “I fucking knew something wasn’t right-”

Tires squealed against the pavement and the car jerked forward, pushing you harder against Bucky’s shoulder. “I’m sorry- Hang on,” James said loudly, and the car swerved around a corner. “Bezopasnyy dom, Bucky?”

“Da, tikhiy,” Bucky replied. “Vy videli, kto yeshche eto bylo?”

James and Bucky were still talking, but their voices were becoming muffled, and you started to breathe heavily — the tides of panic were starting to pull you under. You were attacked? Targeted? The concept would be laughable if you were in a fit state of mind, who would want to attack you, it was fucking absurd.

“Sweetheart, stay with me,” Bucky whispered and you sobbed. His hand grabbed yours and placed it over his chest against the tactical shirt. “Breathe with me, in and out.” The steady beat of Bucky’s heart grounded you and you tried pulling in a lungful of air, but it caught on a sob. “I know, I know, sweetheart, you’re alright,” he soothed, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Bol'she vragov yeye ottsa, bez somneniya,” James said, his voice still loud and you opened your eyes, not realising you had closed them. Bucky growled low in his throat at James’ statement. 

“Prosto voz'mi nas tuda i bystro,” Bucky then said, his voice low and his grip tightening. “Doll, look where we are.”

You looked up from his shoulder and gasped softly. The bright lights of Times Square shone in the night and into the back seat of the car. Bucky loosened his grip slightly so you could turn and watch the lights fly by; it was no secret that you loved the the area, both James and Bucky had accompanied you on every impromptu trip, and seeing it at such a desperately fearful moment instilled a calm unlike any other — it flowed and ebbed through the panic and loosened the vice around your chest, and the warmth of Bucky’s presence only made it easier to breathe. 

“Are you okay, kisa?” James asked from the front, glancing at you in the rear mirror when you met his gaze. 

Nodding slowly, you glanced back out the window. Bucky pulled you close again and you followed, not willing to be far from him for long at all. “We need to do another impromptu shopping trip,” Bucky offered, his voice quiet. The sigh from behind James’ mask was almost inaudible. “What, you love seeing her light up just as much as I do, punk.”

“You are not wrong,” James replied, and the car was cloaked in darkness again, the lights of Times Square long gone. 

The inside of the car was silent for a little while, filled with the occasional slight sniffle from you, and the hum of the car engine. It was broken when James turned the wheel and hissed quietly. “James?” Bucky asked, sitting ramrod straight. 

“It’s nothing-” James tried, but Bucky was having none of it. The concern rolled from him in waves and you began to grow worried, too. 

“Like hell it’s nothing, you idiot,” Bucky said, his voice sharp with worry. “Can you drive?” James nodded, though Bucky didn’t relax. “When we get there, I’ll sweep the place and you stay with her.” 

A stormy look pinched James’ brow and his eyes darkened, and if he wasn’t wearing his mask, you knew you would have seen him scowling and gritting his teeth in frustration — he didn’t take well to being ordered around. “James,” you said softly, and he looked at you briefly in the mirror before focusing on the road again. “Please let Bucky look at the wound when we get- Where are we going?”

“Safe house,” Bucky answered.

You nodded. “Let Bucky look at you when we get there, please, for me.” It seemed to take all the effort in him, but you watched James’ shoulders sag as he nodded once. 

Half an hour later, the car pulled into a home nestled deep amongst trees, the long driveway passing in a heartbeat. Bucky shifted on the seat and kissed you on the forehead. “You wait with James,” he said, then he looked towards the front. “Give me the Skorpion.”

James’ hand reached back with his favourite weapon and Bucky took it, pulling out the clip and replacing it with a fully loaded magazine. The car came to a stop, and Bucky jumped out immediately, focus entirely honed on the unassuming house.

“Come, kisa,” James said, opening the door. You followed and gasped at the cold air of the night. James’ door shut quietly and he beckoned you over. “C’mere.”

Warmth enveloped you when James pulled you close, and you shuffled closer so you were plastered to his front, soaking in the offered act of comfort like it was your last. “I was so scared,” you mumbled, tearing up again.

“I know, kisa,” James rasped. His voice was muffled by the mask and you pulled away slightly, reaching up and around to the back of his head. It came away with a click and James sighed. “Thank you.”

“I know you like wearing it, but I want to see my James now,” you whispered. James smiled and one of his hands held the back of your neck, and pulled you closer. 

Footsteps sounded from the front of the house. “It’s clear. Get inside, come on.” With Bucky’s command, you grabbed James’ arm and walked forward, wincing in sympathy whenever he grimaced. “Where did you get hit?”

“My side, I think it just grazed-” 

Bucky scowled. “Doll, take him straight to the bathroom, it’s the first door on the left in the hallway.” You nodded and started walking when Bucky stalked towards what looked to be the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “You better do as you’re fucking told, punk.”

You would have rolled your eyes as James’ heavy sigh had you been in a joking mood. Exhaustion settled heavy in your mind, weighing down your body with the realisation of what had just happened. 

“Stay with us, kisa,” James breathed, watching you as he entered the surprisingly large bathroom. “Don’t get stuck in that pretty head of yours.”

“Sorry-” You tried, but you were cut off by James’ lips on yours. It was a soft kiss, sweet and giving, and it had you almost weak in the knees. 

James pulled away first and shook his head slightly. “Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” he ordered gently, holding your face between his hands. “I will not have it.”

“Stop pulling moves on our girl and sit your ass down,” Bucky said suddenly, appearing in the doorway, a smirk teasing the corner of his lips. “Go on.”

With a huff, James sat on the bench in the shower, moving to take off the tactical gear when you rushed forward. “No, no, let me,” you said, fingers already moving to undo the buckles. James looked up at you with wide eyes, your urgency rendering him speechless. 

Metal clinked behind you and you figured Bucky was preparing the med kit, but you didn’t rush, every move seemed to irritate James’ wound and like hell you would cause him more pain. 

A few moments later, James sat on the bench shirtless with the wound in his side on full display. It was a bullet wound, though thankfully it was only a graze; like all three of you had hoped. “Alright,” Bucky said, sitting next to James and facing him with a grimace. “This will sting.”

“Hang on,” you said. The two of them watched you curiously as you darted out the room, coming back with a small stool from the kitchen you had passed by just a few moments ago. You placed it in front of James and sat down. “Come here, baby,” you whispered, and James immediately obeyed, his eyes clouded with unshed tears. Bucky watched sadly while James got comfortable, your hand on the back of his neck and your fingers in his hair so you could scratch his scalp, while the other rested against his shoulder. One of his hands rested on your knee, the other on your thigh, and he squeezed whenever a sharp breath of pain left him.

You had learnt through trial and error — mostly error — that James wouldn’t let his guard down around anyone bar the two of you, and while he was hurting… it was even harder for him to maintain that facade. 

“Okay, go ahead,” you whispered, looking at Bucky who nodded once, and got to work patching the wound. 

“You did well today, doll,” Bucky began, the needle in his fingers moving with precision. “Even though it all went to shit.” A subtle shift against your neck told you James was nodding his agreement. 

“What happened?” You asked, still maintaining the soothing motion of scratching James’ scalp. “I was out there and all of a sudden it just… blew up. I didn’t know what the hell was happening.”

There was a pause and you watched Bucky’s expression remain carefully neutral. “I honestly don’t know who the fuck it was that attacked you tonight,” Bucky said. “You know your father isn’t exactly a saint-”

You knew that for a fact. He was a dirty CEO, probably worse, and it was why you decided to split from his ‘ideal daughter’ and pave your own way. No way did you want to be involved in dirty money. 

“-And we,” Bucky gestured to James and then himself, “believe someone wanted revenge for something that he’s done, one way or another. It’s the only thing that makes sense right now, anyway.”

Silence fell while you considered his words. And then, you sighed heavily at the sudden weight of the world on your shoulders. “Well, fuck.”

Bucky snorted and continued to bandage James’ side. “My thoughts exactly.”

“Wait- How did- Who killed the man that had me-”

“James did,” Bucky answered, not meeting your eyes. 

You gaped at Bucky and your hand tightened in James’ hair. “How? That was not a typical gunshot wound.”

“There has always been a case in your dressing room with one of James’ snipers,” Bucky went on to explain, eyes still trained on the wound. James was stiff in your hold, bracing himself. “The case and gun only unlock slash operate when it is his fingerprints. When you went up the stairs he doubled back and assembled it, and then hid in the rafters to watch you and the crowd. I knew he was going to take the shot,” he gestured to his ear. “Thanks to that device.”

“You what?” You asked, astonished. “There has been a sniper rifle in my fucking dressing room this entire time? How did I never see it?”

“I am good at hiding,” James whispered against your neck. “You never saw it because I was the one that hid it, the staff didn’t know.”

“What the fuck.” A quiet laugh left both James and Bucky at your surprise. 

“You know we’re nothing if not thorough, doll.”

A few moments had passed when Bucky finally shifted in his seat and placed the unused supplies back in the med kit before running a hand up and down James’ back. “It’s done, you did good.”

“Thank you,” James said quietly, his voice slightly muffled by your neck. He placed a soft kiss there and then sat up, wincing from the pain. 

You smiled sadly and stood from the stool. 

“Wait, wait,” Bucky called, hand raised. “How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine, I think it’ll only bruise a little bit,” you assured, looking between the both of them who were staring up at you. “James stopped him just in time.”

They both looked displeased but you walked out of the bathroom. It felt like you were just going through the motions, operating on autopilot as you took the stool back into the kitchen. It was all too much. Your father, the attack, the realisation that no matter how hard you tried, the trail of sin would follow you and endanger you; maybe even for the rest of your life.

“Sweetheart?” The voice was soft and you turned to see Bucky hovering behind you, a slight frown that was the final nail in the coffin. “Oh, babydoll,” Bucky breathed, rushing forward and throwing the med kit onto the counter when you shuddered, a heart wrenching sob wracking your chest. “C’mere, I’m here.”

The sudden embrace broke the floodgates and you wailed - overwhelmed and so, so afraid. Bucky held you against his chest in a crushing grip, willing it to ground and soothe you, when James poked his head out from the bathroom. They must have shared a silent look because you felt James against your back, his bulk just as warm and comforting as Bucky’s. 

“We’ve got you, kisa,” James whispered while Bucky began to rock you gently side to side. “You’re safe.”

A moment later, Bucky shifted you slightly in his arms, and James let go. You whined at the loss of contact but Bucky hushed you. “Let’s get into bed, you need your rest, and so does this punk.”

James huffed and led the way towards a closed door. 

“Please lay with me, I don’t want to be alone,” you whispered, clutching Bucky’s shirt. “Please.”

“Of course we’re gonna stay, sweetheart,” Bucky offered, walking you to the bed and placing you on the edge. “We wanna hold you.”

James made a hum of agreement and moved onto the bed, kneeling behind you. “Arms up.” You did so and James pulled your shirt off, his touch lingering on your skin. Bucky made short work of your shoes, socks, and pants with minimal help from you. The weight behind you shifted and the sound of more buckles unfastening made your skin warm. 

“No, not tonight,” Bucky said, reading your mind. “Just wanna hold you.”

You nodded and then James’ hand pulled you back so your back was flush with his chest. Thinking of his wound, you opened your mouth to protest when his hand rested against your stomach and he tucked his chin into the crook of your neck. “It’s fine, don’t you worry. Just relax for us.”

The bed bounced when Bucky sidled up to your front. You looked up at him, feeling safe and content while between them. “Well, hey there, sugar,” Bucky purred, smirking cheekily. “You come here often?”

You giggled and James made a quiet noise of protest. “No funny business.”

“Bite me,” Bucky retorted, looking affronted. 

“I am tempted-”

“Boys,” you interrupted. Bucky stared at you and you could just feel James’ annoyance. They were so petty. “Cuddle me.” Instantly, James’ arms tightened around your middle and Bucky slung his leg over your thigh, moving so close you could rest your forehead against the juncture of his throat and you rested a hand against his chest, right over his heart.

“Didn’t have to tell us twice, sweetheart,” Bucky said, the rumble of his voice against your palm soothing. 

The three of you laid in silence until a wave of exhaustion suddenly hit you, a wide yawn leaving you before you could stifle it. “Go to sleep, kisa,” James whispered, and Bucky kissed your forehead. “We’ve got you, you’re safe.”

Sleep pulled you under before you could reply, and you missed the way James and Bucky looked at you; so tenderly and with a fierce protectiveness, unmeasured and untamed. They would protect you, no matter the cost.

navsegda i vechnost' = forever and eternity krasivaya, moy kisa = beautiful, my kitten dvigat'sya! = move! prikroy menya! = cover me! idti! = go! ty, blyad', idiot, ya skazal tebe poyti, i vot ty prosto- = you fucking idiot, I told you to go and there you are- popast' v chertovu mashinu = get in the damn car bezopasnyy dom = safe house da, tikhiy = yes, the quiet one. vy videli, kto yeshche eto bylo? = did you see who else it was? bol'she vragov yeye ottsa, bez somneniya = more of her father's enemies, no doubt prosto voz'mi nas tuda i bystro. = just get us there, and fast.

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[mapofthesea]

forward!jimin x social media manager!fem!reader

hockey!au

genre: smut, fluff, porn with a hint of plot!

word count: 5.8k

summary: star forward Park Jimin is not only good at the game of hockey, but the game of life. He’s rarely faced with adversity and enjoys the perks of being admired by millions of fans between his sporting and modeling endeavors. To you, he’s nothing but a massive thorn in your side: a reminder of your past life as a puck bunny and your biggest challenge in landing your next promotion. He’s damn lucky he’s handsome.

warnings: arguing, tension from past relationship (they were never Together but they did fuck), swearing, jimin is a smug little shit, jimin with a lip piercing (!!!), hockey talk but no actual game time action, they have Feelings for each other, kind of enemies to lovers but lowkey, specific smut warnings include: penetrative unprotected sex (don’t do this irl!), dom!jimin x sub!reader, slightly bratty reader, degradation (he calls her a slut, she likes it though) and praise, making out/sloppy kissing, fingering (f receiving) oral (f receiving), handjob, hair pulling, hickeys/marking, multiple orgasms, coming inside, slight overstimulation, aftercare ofc

a/n: as always my work is not proof read or edited so there may be some mistakes! Also this is clearly smut so please do not go below the cut if you’re under 18 or uncomfortable with the content noted above. Happy reading!

The warmth of the hotel sheets engulfs you, the expensive feeling silk rubbing gently against your freshly washed skin. You barely know what time it is, but the sleep weighing down your eyelids negates any logic.

An involuntary sigh passes your lips as you feel your spine decompress from the cramped position you had to assume on the plane ride here. Your phone vibrates on the beside table but you skillfully ignore it, snuggling further into the comforter. A sweet lull of sleep starts to envelope you- and then your phone vibrates again. Once, twice, three times, and then the barrage of texts turns into a full blown call, rattling your phone violently.

"Fuck, what?" You yell, throwing the covers off and snatch the phone off of the bedside table. The brightness makes you squint, answering the call without seeing who it is.

"Hello?"

"Oh Thank God, Y/N. I need you to-" the sound of your boss's voice sends anger through your veins. It was his idea for you to travel to this tournament, and now he has the audacity to call you after working hours?

"No, please, Ken. It's late and I'm tired. Whatever the issue is it can wait until the morning."

"It really can't, Y/N. I need you to go talk to Park. Now." You still, heart hammering at the name. You can't imagine what the fuck he would need at this hour, but you're not a babysitter and you certainly aren't giving up your rest for him.

"No, I'm just here to do media for the games. It's not my problem if he needs a handler tonight." Ken sighs and the tension is palpable through the phone line. The silence buzzes through you like a live wire.

"If you don't go talk to him now, your job is gonna be a lot harder than it needs to be in the morning. Please, Y/N. I need someone with boots on the ground to help me. If you get it solved I'll fast track your application for the promotion." Ken's offer hangs over your head. Fuck this capitalist system and the fact that whoever takes the promotion is based more on connection than talent. As much as you despise having to continue to climb the ladder after years of hard work in college and the office, the perks of better health insurance glimmer in your mind.

"Okay, fine. I'm going." Anxiety spikes in your chest as Ken thanks you and hangs up. You vividly remember the last time you were one on one with Park Jimin, and the thought makes your cheeks flame. Suddenly your breezy pajamas feel too warm, and the slightly damp strands of your hair at the nape of your neck itch.

When you started your career in sports media, you never saw yourself working for the same hockey team he plays for. You always saw it as a near impossibility when you moved away from your hometown for the degree- but the universe works in weird and cruel ways that happen to force you into close quarters with a whole gaggle of professional hockey players. You really tried your very hardest to avoid interacting with any of the players on the team outside of working hours, not just Jimin. Although several of them had also flew in today and settled in the same hotel, you made sure to book with a separate airline and get a hotel room on a separate floor. You had no interest in mixing your business with your personal life; it’s nothing but an irresponsible risk.

But here you are now, embarrassing yourself by applying a fresh layer of deodorant before you leave your hotel room. The lavish hallways are luckily empty, and the cool elevator shaft eases the heat crawling up your neck. It’s incredibly nerve-wracking to imagine why you needed to have this intervention, and the idea of how he may answer the door makes you dizzy.

Maybe he’d injured himself? But surely you wouldn’t be the one called to his room in that case. There was always the possibility that he did something to cause a media storm- got into a fight, was spotted robbing a store, maybe it was reported that he did cocaine in a bathroom- but it had only been a few hours since their plane landed, so would he have had time for any of that? And wouldn't covering up a personal blunder be up to his personal manager, not you? Your palms slick with sweat at the possibilities of the mess you’re going to find behind his door.

You hover outside it, staring at the gold plated numbers illuminated by the nearby sconces. It's oddly intimidating to know he's just on the other side of the door; living and breathing and simply existing- perhaps making some kind of erroneous mistake that could ruin his career or basking in the aftermath of that. The wood of the door feels thick and expensive under your fingers as you knock, and it’s so feeble that you can almost guarantee he didn’t hear it. You swear and try again, knocking harder despite your shaking knuckles.

“Coming!” His voice sounds light and airy but it makes lead drop through your stomach. The urge to run away overtakes you and just as you make the decision that no, this isn’t worth the possibility of a promotion, the door swings open.

Park Jimin has no right looking this handsome at whatever ungodly hour you had knocked on his door. His black hair is mussed at the back of his head as if he had just been laying in bed. The softness of his hair is almost enough to weaken you, but the familiar narrowed cut of his eyes runs ice through you. Heat blooms in your cheeks as you blush and internally chastise yourself for the stupid reaction; you were here for a professional reason, so why the fuck was your heart hammering in your chest at a million miles an hour?

"What can I do for you, Y/N?" Jimin's silky voice filters through your hazy mind and you startle, shaking your head to clear the suffocation surrounding you. Alarm bells ring at the familiar cadence of his voice, the way he perfectly crafts the syllables that make up your name.

"Um, I-" your eyes flit around his face; the tempting golden sheen of his skin under the gold casted hallway lighting, the fullness of his cheeks and his pretty lashes and the silver gleam of his lip-ring...

"What the fuck is that?" You practically yell, pulled out of your reverence at his handsomeness as the lip ring registers. It's a bold silver curve, resting temptingly in the middle of his plush bottom lip. It shines as if tempting you to look closer, to touch it, to feel it. Your stomach stirs at the fleeting thought of how the cold metal would pull an addicting contrast between the heated press of his lips.

"This?" He licks at the metal with his tongue and you suddenly feel the need to take a seat. "Got it a while ago, honestly. Off season stuff." He waves his hand nonchalantly as if you'd asked him if he wanted chocolate or vanilla cake. "You like it?" He arches a perfectly shaped brow and leans casually on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. He's small and lithe for a hockey player, but you know that he has intimidating strength corded through his arms and the stamina to match.

Dumbly, you nod at his question. You like it a lot. Jimin lets out a heady laugh and you can only imagine how fucking stupid you look right now; slightly damp hair and a flushed bare face, mismatched sleep socks and these stupid lamb pajamas your mom got you for Christmas. Your face blanches at the sudden realization that the shorts were certainly too small for standing in a hotel hallway under Park Jimin's gaze.

"Wait, no, I'm here because Ken told me to come down and talk to you!" You backtrack quickly, pulling at the bottom hem of your t-shirt.

"Awe, come on Y/N, you mean you didn't want to come visit me for old times sake?" His electric eyes travel your bare legs. You grit your teeth and try to find the fire of anger in your stomach-the shield that's allowed you to ward off your feelings for him for so many years- but it's been replaced by the quivering attraction that never quite left.

"N-no, Jimin." You plant your hands on your hips; hoping to instill some of the social media manager persona back into your conversation. "That thing is a liability for you, and for me, it sounds like, because Ken sent me down here to take care of it. You'll have to get rid of it. It's out of regulations for the games." Jimin blinks owlishly, as if he had never considered that the piercing would be out of regulations.

"Really?" He licks the damn piercing again and your greedy eyes soak up every part; the perfect pinkness of his tongue and the way he maneuvers it around the metal in a tantalizing circle that's much too familiar. Your stomach simmers with arousal.

"Fuck, Jimin, yes. It really is out of regulations, and I would assume Ken saw some picture of you with it, and he's pissed and made it my problem because he isn't here yet. So please, for me, take it out for the games." When is this guy ever going to give you a break? You spent your entire teenage years pining for him and half of your college visits home tangled in his bedsheets, and now as a full fledged adult you're begging him to get his shit together so you can get considered for a promotion. "Please, Jimin, can you just do this one thing for me?" The exasperation of the night makes your voice whiny even to your own ears, and you can practically see Jimin's ears perk at the sound. A cheeky grin overtakes his features.

"If I remember correctly, I've done lots of things for you." You don't miss the shift in his voice; the darkened tone that haunted your dreams for months after you vowed to never speak to him again. Suddenly your throat feels dry and you choke on your rebuttal as he takes a confident stride into the hallway. You can smell the clean linen of his cologne and you instinctively close your eyes and take an inhale. Your nose flares and you swallow your impure thoughts.

"Listen." You poke a finger into his chest and immediately regret it; the firmness of his well toned muscles rejecting your jab. "Come on, Jimin. I'm begging you."

His chest shudders under your finger, and he's so close you can feel the exhale of his breath against your hair. You're frozen as he moves, clasping one of your shoulders with strong fingers. His grip makes your skin tingle as he lowers himself to match your stare.

"I seem to remember you being much better at begging, Y/N. Hmm? Want to try that again?"

Arousal lights your veins and your brain whirs into overdrive, screaming at you to follow the animal instinct clawing inside your gut. Unbidden flashes of your past with Jimin run through your mind: the grip of his hands on your plush hips as he drives himself into you, the paths of bruised kisses he left on your tits after hours of teasing them, the reddened claw marks you left on the bronzed skin of his back.

The current of dominance in his words sparks something dormant inside of you; the slumbering brattiness that you had converted into tenacity reborn. You surge up against him, closing the gap with a bruising kiss. He stumbles slightly in surprise but easily recovers, capturing you around the waist as you devour his mouth. The cool metal of the lip ring is just as addicting as you imagined it to be, wedged between the unending warmth of his plush lips. It's fucking addicting to be kissing him again as he pulls you against the hard planes of his body. There's no hesitation in his actions as he shoves his tongue into your mouth and you nipples pebble in response to the liquid heat he elicits in you.

Oxygen becomes useless to you the longer you kiss him. All that matters is the connection of your bodies, the slip of your tongues against one another. Your heart stutters with yearning as Jimin helps himself to a handful of your ass cheeks and you nip at his piercing playfully. A moan reverberates through him and he uses his grip on you to pull you impossibly closer, walking your bodies backward into his hotel room.

The change of scenery shocks you enough that you finally break from the kiss, panting from the exertion. The heavy door slams shut behind you as Jimin pushes it, perhaps a bit too hard. To your wild satisfaction Jimin looks just as winded as you feel. “Fuck,” he croaks the word and you smile, unable to hold back anymore. Something in your mind loosens, and you surge forward to fumble with the tie of his sweatpants. A beautiful moan falls from his lips and for a second you’re sure that the control he never gave you had become yours: that in the years you’d been apart he had shifted into a man who let you take. After so long of playing the sexy and mysterious playboy, Jimin had finally unraveled for you.

But his sudden strength re-emerges just as you begin to wiggle the fabric down his hips, and he captures your wrists under his palm. Forcing your wandering hands away, a familiar gleam of delight at your pliancy shadows his eyes.

“Oh, little girl, you know better than that, don’t you? Or did you forget how this goes for us?” He tuts dismissively but the passion on his face makes your knees weak. “You-“ he shuffles you closer to the king sized bed, “do what I want you to, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Arrogance colors his tone, and you have half a mind to tell him to shove it, but he guides your hands back to his cock and your brain shorts.

He’s hard, twitching under your touch as he holds your hands there, controlling the pressure of your touch. From your seated position on the bed you get a glorious view of the vein in his neck throbbing, and you regret not plastering any bruises onto his neck earlier. “You always were so good with your hands, Y/N. Fuck. Used to drive me crazy thinking about your hands on my dick.” The husk of his voice makes wetness pool between your thighs. It had been so long since you heard him like this but it was just as delicious as before. The pressure he holds on your hands relinquishes but it’s clear what he expects of you so you snake your hands under the layers of fabric dutifully.

You can’t help but tease him a bit, tracing the curve of his balls through the fabric of his expensive boxers. His hips jump forward and he bites out a warning that has you eager to feel the firm hotness of his bare cock in your hand. You shift forward to pull him free, and you keen at the sight of his cock.

A thatch of welcoming dark hair at the base, the length that puts your last boyfriend to shame, the pretty red-tinged head pulsing with a pearlescent shine of precum. Suddenly, you feel extremely empty.

The seam of your pajama shorts presses right where you need it, so you settle for rubbing your thighs together subtly for now. Your hand encases his length, starting with small gentle strokes that you know are doing nothing but driving him crazy. His stomach clenches and trembles as you start pumping him faster, relishing in the little jumps of his cock as your grip gets firmer.

“Feels so good,” the praise falls from him without thought and strikes a hot iron in your stomach, thighs rubbing together without much thought. “Pretty little hand on me like that, fuckin missed that.” The haze of arousal occupies you enough that you don’t allow yourself to overthink anything: instead taking the liberty to rub your thumb firmly over the tip of his cock. The precum aids your glide but you feel a devious idea sneak up on you and you promptly lean forward to spit directly onto his cock. The sound he makes is inhumane and you adore it, gobbling up the strained whimper of your name as he grasps your hair, hard.

Pleasure shoots down your spine at his grip and he grins slyly, calculating eyes shooting down to the quivering of your thighs. You don’t cease your hands, only adding the second to cup at his balls again while he appraises you. “My pretty little slut, spitting on my cock without me even asking.” He holds your hair harder, cocking your head just enough that you can’t look away from his smoldering eyes. “Are you my pretty little slut?”

You were expecting the question: a relic of your college aged trysts, but it still bowls you over like a semi truck.

“Y-yes, Jimin. ‘M your pretty little slut.” He grins so hard that his eyes scrunch and an approving sound rolls out of him. Your pussy throbs at that, hips canting forward as you mindlessly work your hands over his cock. “Do you need some help?” The grip on your hair disappears and you immediately miss it, the sting of your scalp serving as a beautiful reminder. It takes you a minute to decipher what he means, but the way his penetrating stare flickers between your eyes and your center clues you in. The seam of your shorts had been consistently stimulating you but not nearly enough for any kind of relief: you had soaked through them and your panties while Jimin spoke to you.

You pout at him and nod even though he really didn't need more persuasion. Jimin's quick to cup your pussy in his hand, rubbing his palm over the soaked fabric. Your grip on his cock tightens at his touch and he hisses approvingly, pressing harder against your pussy. You grind your hips upward in a bid to get him closer to your clit. The dull pressure of him cupping you entirely only heightens the neediness in your veins.

"Please, Jimin," you whine and petulantly drop your hands from him when he doesn't get the hint fast enough. Jimin arches a brow at you.

"Is this the game you wanna play, Y/N?" Only now do you realize that his hand has stilled as well, the heat of his palm radiating against your wetness. You shake your head, unable to bear the idea of being denied his touch any longer. "That's what I thought," he tuts. "Now be a good girl and keep touching me, and maybe I'll return the favor."

You immediately grasp for him again, making quick work of thumbing the vein running on the underside of his cock. Jimin returns the favor by honing in on your clit through the fabric of your shorts. You work each other in a lustful tandem, sharing moans until Jimin slips his fingers underneath the soaked layers of fabric on you. The feeling of his fingers on your bare pussy sends you reeling, hands doubling their work on him as he circles your clit with a nimble index finger.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gonna make me fucking cum," his hips stutter wildly under your grip and you smile, dopey on the satisfaction and the energy building in your core.

"Wanna make you cum," you supply, squeezing the head of his cock lightly. Jimin grunts heartily, head tipping back against his shoulders and you know you have him right there. Triumph squeezes your heart as you make quick deliberate strokes across his cock.

You hear him cum before you feel it, the beautiful tone of his voice husked with arousal. His hips stutter and buck against your hand as his cum paints your top and your palm, the sticky wetness oddly satisfying to your lust addled brain. A laugh of disbelief leaves him as your hand finally loosens. His own hand comes back to life and you gasp; surprised by his renewed energy so soon after coming.

His chest heaves as he bares down over you, leaning your body back onto the plush mattress. His eyes skate down to the mess he made of your shirt and a devious smirk decorates his face.

"Hmm, maybe we should get you out of this messy shirt?" His voice is invariably playful again and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you.

"Oh, I guess if you insist..." you bat your eyes playfully as he dislodges his hand from your pussy. It leaves you feeling oddly cold, but the gentle tug at the bottom of your shirt distracts you.

"Can I?" The sheepish look on his face stuns you. After everything that had happened tonight, and all of the times he had taken the liberty of stripping you naked before, you're surprised to see the hesitation on his face.

"Yes, Jimin, if you're sure." You cup his face gently, thumbing the delicate metal of his lip ring. He nips at your fingertip and laves at the spot with his sinful tongue. The flush that stains your face is blocked by the fabric of your shirt as he shucks it off; and Jimin's gaze finds your tits immediately.

"So pretty," he pinches a nipple in reverence. "I missed these tits, Y/N. Missed you." You can't be sure if he meant to admit the last part, but hope strikes your heart regardless. He squishes your tits together and jiggles them, and for a second he's transformed back to the boyish college freshman he was when you first started to hook up; high on his new career as an athlete and the fame that came with it.

His tongue laves across the curves of your breasts, biting a bruise into the supple flesh right above your nipple. The pain transforms into arousal in a second, and your hips buck against him in silent question.

"Oh, can't have just half the outfit on, can we?" He dances his calloused fingers along the waistband of your tiny shorts before yanking them clean off, underwear easily going along with them. The rush of cool air that meets your pussy raises goosebumps along your skin.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll get you nice and warmed up again." Jimin cracks a feline smile and settles comfortably on his knees before parting your thighs. Wetness slicks between them and he hums in satisfaction.

His long hair tickles your legs and you already feel so overwhelmed that by the time he puts his mouth on you, your back is arching toward the ceiling. He presses a kiss to your pussy and the cold sting of his lip ring brings tears to your eyes. Jimin parts your lips with his fingers and allows himself to feast, licking you so thoroughly that you think this must be a holy experience.

Surely this is what divine intervention feels like: Park Jimin feasting on your pussy like a man starved, circling your clit with his tongue and teasing your throbbing entrance with his deft fingers. Your body is honed into every move he makes, and each twitch of his tongue and push of his fingers brings you closer to the sweet, blinding edge. Your hips squirm at the overwhelming sensations and Jimin nips at your clit in retaliation, throwing a strong arm over your lower stomach. Effectively holding you in place, he redoubles his efforts and slides two fingers home, stretching your walls at the same time he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks.

The hot wetness of your arousal, his mouth, the slip of his tongue against you, and the shockingly chilled press of that god damn lip ring send you into happy oblivion. An inhumane string of noises rips from your throat as you come, writhing against the sheets as white heat flashes behind your eyelids. You vaguely register Jimin's fingers pushing you through the high as he laps the last bits of arousal out of you.

"There's my pretty little slut," he purrs as you settle. Your thighs twitch as he pulls his hand away to smooth down the hairs sticking to your face. It takes you a few blinks to register the pretty grin on his face, but you return it with ease.

"Never get rid of that thing." You gesture vaguely to his mouth and a puff of laughter runs across your face. He tongues at it thoughtfully, and even though you had just come, your pussy throbs again.

"Funny, about an hour ago you were begging me to take it out."

You slap his chest noncommittally, still weakened from your explosive orgasm. Jimin pecks your forehead and you keen. A softness appears around his edges as he looks down on you; and even in your bare faced, sweaty state you feel adored.

"I missed you too," the words burst forward before you can rethink it. It'd been swimming around in your mind since you accepted your job offer and caught sight of him for the first time in years. Although neither of you were ever bold enough to make it official, there was no denying the magnetic attraction you shared.

"Fuck, I'm so glad you said that. I have so much I wanna talk to you about-" he presses another delicate kiss to the corner of your lips and you grin. "But I am so hard right now, can we please talk later?" He rolls his hips against you and the evidence is clear. Your brain blanks, replacing the fuzzy adoration with sharp, demanding need.

"Uh huh, talk later. Need you now." Jimin makes short work of his shirt at your approval. His instagram modeling presence has made you no stranger to the sight of his bared chest; but the toned muscles of his pecs and abs scramble your mind. His skin nearly twinkles under the light, and whether its a trick of your mind or the evidence of a very fancy moisturizer, you're just happy to be in his presence.

"Flip," he orders, voice devoid of the sweetness it held just moments before. A shiver wracks your spine as you follow his instructions, flipping onto your hands and knees and obediently curving your back. Jimin hums in praise and you feel renewed energy course through your veins.

He traces the curve of your ass, ghosting his touch around the sensitive skin. You can't see him but you can picture the self satisfied grin on his face as he relishes in the smooth skin. The touch of his lips against your full cheek shocks you and you rock forward into the bed. Jimin bites into the flesh firmly and you moan at the feeling of his sharp canines. You can imagine the blooming bruise that will be there by the morning, and the mere idea of the sore reminder of this night makes your core throb.

"Do you-" Jimin's words die in this throat. "Do you have any condoms?" The punch of reality has you sagging into the sheets. Of course you didn't. The last thing you expected was for this night to unfold like it did. Heavy disappointment weighs your heart.

"I didn't bring any, I haven't..." he trails off again and you wait a few breathless seconds for his words before you twist your upper body so you can see his face. His cheeks are flushed a rosy red that's so endearing your heart squeezes. If it weren't for his evident arousal you would think he had just woken up from a long, restful sleep.

"I haven't been with anyone in a while." He gives you a sheepish smile and you nod in understanding.

"Me either." The admission passes between the two of you like calm water, cooling the tension until a storm whips up in Jimin's eyes. His cocky grin returns as he palms himself.

"I'm clean, are you?" You nod, body reacting to his insinuation before your mind can fully catch up.

"I'm on the pill," you breathe the words as if you can't believe them, and Jimin looks absolutely ravenous. He runs two thick fingers up your pussy, gathering the heady arousal that already has you slippery and stretched for him.

"Gonna let me get in you raw, huh?" He shuffles forward until you can feel the tip of his cock pressed against your folds. He holds his cock against you with his thumb as he glides, careful not to enter you prematurely.

"If I woulda known all it took was a few years apart..." you huff a rueful laugh that transforms into a moan as he slips the head of his cock into you.

"Oh fuck-" Jimin wastes no time in sliding in until he is seated fully inside of you. Your walls pulse around him and you can feel drool pooling in your mouth. He takes a handful of each of your asscheeks and pulls your body against his own, a little experiment to see just how greedy your pussy is for him.

An obscene squelch sounds between your bodies and it only spurs Jimin into further action.

"Fucking perfect little ass and pussy swallowing me up." Jimin moves impossibly fast, taking care to sheath his entire cock inside of you hard before pulling out. Your finger nails rake through the comforter as the waves of pleasure ripple through you. Jimin's body encases your own, trapping you under the strength of his muscles and heat of his sweaty skin. With his chest pressed to your back, his cock drives into you at a brand new angle that makes your toes curl with delight. Jimin's sinful lips find a home at the juncture of your neck and he seems more than happy to decorate you with hickeys to match the one on your ass. The addicting drag of his cock pairs with the tickling cold of his lip ring each time his mouth lands on you, and the sensory overload has your stomach clenching.

You have completely lost control of your mouth and allowed the animalistic sector of your brain to take over as Jimin fucks you stupid. His own incoherent grunts vibrate against your neck in fragments. "Pretty...good little slut...fuck..."

Your eyes roll as he slows his thrusts, aiming for the perfect spot that makes your legs jelly. It only takes him a few moments to find it, and the world quickly becomes washed with tears.

You hiccup his name as he steadies a hand around your abdomen, sneakily playing with your clit.

"You gonna come for me, Y/N? Get my cock all nice and wet just like you're supposed to?" He braces his unoccupied hand overtop of you, clutching the headboard with flexing muscles. His presence is suffocating in the best possible way and you feel like you're drowning in Jimin.

"Such a perfect little pussy. So hot and wet for me all the time." His voice wavers and his thumb catches your clit just right. A dark chuckle graces your senses just as you tip into oblivion.

Your entire body contracts and shivers under him as you cum, Jimin's hips driving you forward until you collapse into the comforter in a fit of cries. It feels like you come forever, leaking waves of arousal around Jimin as his hips slap against your own.

"Good job, baby. I-I'm gonna come, you feel so good." You whine and plead for him, ready for the electric feeling of him filling you with his cum. You're still feeling shaky when he comes, driving his hips as far forward as possible as he fills you. Beautiful airy moans leave him as he grinds against you, relishing in the sloppy warmth of your mixed cum.

His hips slow their movement but his mouth never ceases, spilling praise and planting kisses along your back until he's spent. When he pulls out you instantly feel empty, whining as his cum slides out with him. Both of you are too spent to do anything about it, but Jimin watches with hooded eyes from beside you as it leaks onto the comforter. It's scary how suddenly the sleepiness hits you, and you reach near blindly for the man next to you.

You must look exhausted because he coos and pecks a kiss over your nose. "You can sleep here." You giggle and crack your eyes open and find him so close that you can see the irregularities of his teeth as he grins.

"Good, cause I'm not walkin' back to my room now. Even if I could walk, my clothes are ruined." His face flushes at the reminder of your debauchery. He licks his lips and your eyes catch on that damned lip ring again.

"You really will have to take that out for the games," you run your thumb across it again, obsessed with the feeling.

"I know," he whispers, and then his lips are ghosting over your own for permission. This kiss is nothing like the one you shared at the top of the night. It's gentle and slow and punctuated with a deep connection that runs years deep. Despite how much you had done tonight, this kiss feels the most intimate of all.

No more words need to be exchanged as he helps you sit up and walks you to the bathroom with some pajamas from his bag. He patiently waits outside as you pee-both of you agreeing that you weren't quite ready to be that available with one another- and he lends you a bit of his face wash in earnest.

The comforter is stripped from the bed by the time you're back, and he's pulled the extra pillows from the linen closet to accommodate for you. You shuffle under the sheets and are happy to find them just as silky as your own were. Jimin slips in next to you, fully clothed again, and promptly kills the bedside lamp.

Sleepiness overtakes you almost instantly then, and it's so dark that you rely on the pattern of his breath to gauge if Jimin is still awake.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird for all that time, I- I was just scared that I would say the wrong thing." You speak to the surrounding darkness, and for a minute you think that maybe you missed the short window of opportunity. But then Jimin gives a thoughtful hum, shuffling so that he can tuck your body against his chest. His response is muffled by your hair.

"It's okay. We were young and stupid last time. I hope you'll let us try again." Your heart swells and you hum in affirmation and snuggle back against him. "Tomorrow?" You offer, the hazy edge of sleep just seconds away.

"Tomorrow." Jimin agrees before your consciousness drops easily into dreamland.

[whumpinthepot]

Hamster Interactive Story

Chapter 12. Decision

Prev - Masterlist

Content: Giant/tiny, tiny whump, pet trope/whump, kidnapping, cages, loss of mobility aid (prosthetic leg), solitary confinement (non descriptive), manipulation, power dynamics, fear, female cast

Ashley’s Pov

Poll winner: Let Hamster decide what to do with Soap Scrub. 

ART, WRITING, AND POLL UNDER THE CUT

-

A row of ideas fills your mind on what to do with this pest. Just as you’re thinking of chucking the whole jar out, you look at your little girl's face. Hamster’s eyes are full of worried tears and it dawns on you to get her input on the matter.

Placing the jar with the tiny man inside in a different room, you return to converse with Hamster. Admittedly you sway the options in your favour when speaking to her. Picking her up, you wipe her tears and brush back her curly hair. “Do you want him gone sweet pea? I can get rid of him for you,” you roll the words slowly, “Or, would you like a new friend?” A careful smile spreads across your lips while you rub her back gently. “I think he could warm up to us. He could be a new model for our blog. Who knows, if we got rid of him he could get hurt again. He would be safer with us don’t you think?” 

Hamster frowns slightly with pressed lips. You can only guess her worries and reassure her. “Don’t worry honey bunny, I would never let anyone hurt you. Ever. If he’s not nice we can make him go away after all.” 

Hamster hums and then nods her head. She smiles some, and dare you say she’s starting to get excited by the idea. You give her a little kiss on the cheek and explain that it might take some time to become his friend. She’ll have to be patient with him. You also tell Hamster that she gets her cast taken off in the next few days, giving her more to look forward to. 

Once that's settled, you go into the room where the pest was left alone. He’s there in the jar with his head slumped against the glass. He becomes alert when you get closer. 

You rest your arms on the dresser with your face close to the jar to talk to him. “I know it was you who scared her before. Tell me what happened.”

The man reacts exactly how you want, and goes rigid. “I- I never hurt her. Ask her. When she fell off the counter a mouse was going to attack her, and I scared it off.”

“And then?” You raise a thin brow. 

“And then, what? That's all that happened,” he defends quickly. 

You watch him for a second as his eyes dart around, then break the news to him. “I’ve decided to keep you. It's that or I sell you and who knows what could happen to you then. I won’t hurt you as long as you never upset Hamster. M’kay?” 

“You have to be kidding me…” Tears well up in his eyes and he cradles his bandaged hand. “Can’t we make some soft of deal? I- I can do what ever you want if you let me go after. Then you’ll never see me again, I swear.”

Furious, you pull the jar closer just to startle him, who does he think he is trying to negotiate as if he has any leeway. “That is the deal, little boy. You’ve caused a lot of stress to my pet, and now you’ll pay it back to her with nothing but kindness. Do that and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable, well fed, and I won't hurt you. If you don’t, well… I’ll sell you and who knows where you’ll end up. Snake food? Some kids live Barbie doll? Neglected, starved, forgotten in a tiny. Little. Jar?” You tap the glass with your long nail between words. “The choice is yours.” 

The man is left speechless with his mouth gaped open and his hair sticking out everywhere. You take a second to breathe deeply to calm down. The thought that you're taking this overboard clouds over you - but he really did cause a good amount of grief for you last week. "So, tell me your name or I'll come up with one." You smile, feeling just slightly sadistic. "Maybe Rat, Pest, or maybe Hamster can choose."

“It’s Soap.” He chokes out in a tiny voice.

You snort at the strange name, but wild pets are usually an odd bunch so you don’t hound him on it. 

“It's nice to meet you, Soap.”

The next few days you set things up as a precaution. Making sure there are no other wild pets in your home, getting Hamsters cast off, setting up an escape proof cage for Soap, and isolating him just enough for him to crave the company of yourself and Hamster. On the fifth day of leaving him in the dark alone, you enter the spare room to check in. He’s sulking, hidden under a toy that you’ve given him in his cage. 

“Soap?” You use a softer tone than the last time you two spoke, “Are you ready to come out? What would you like to do?” You give him a few options to choose from and offer to give him his doll leg back if he cooperates. 

—-

(Multiple options may be used depending on the top poll winners)

Thank you @alittlewhump for looking over my chapter <3

Tag list: @frogkingdom @verkja @whumpsday @octopus-reactivated @marvel-gt @rsitb-second-account @fallen-grace-smd @winged-wolf-s-collection-of-arts @kyp-the-spacekiwi @ilasknives @hollowgast1 @redd956 @zobodahobo @alittlewhump @blackrosesandwhump @angst-after-dark @sandygarnelle @coppercoyoti @kim-poce @mayisreallygay @smoll-stace @demondamage @vickytokio @whump-in-the-closet @sunshiline-writes @coyotehusk @cypresscove @shadowsnowdapple @whumpy-wyrms @re-whump @whumpninja

[ya-bug-boy]

Can we get a TOP reader x BOTTOM Ingo? who just FUCKS ingo HARD and so LONG that he basically becomes the readers cumbump and passes out? Lots of love and after care at the end please 😁 and add a cockring on Ingo 😈 thanks!

Bottom Ingo x M! Top Reader

You're Ingo's partner if that wasn't already obvious. A gorgeous one at that. You are one of Elesa's male models that she has for her runway fashion shows and gym battles. Ingo was absolutely smitten by your dynamic boldness and confidence to strut onto the runway, not minding whatever suggestive clothes you put on. After seeing you once, he practically begged Elesa to make her introduce you to him.

Ingo swears he's never had a sudden attraction to other men so easily but you tease him, saying maybe it was love at first sight. He curls a catty smile at that comment, adding his own remarks that favor you in return.

As your relationship grew, so did your passion and devotion to him. Ingo will always admit how much he loves you at any given word, but you just prefer to hear him say that when he's completely spent and drained of cum.

You were unfortunately very busy in the last recent weeks to see each other, as you had to tour with Elesa to the Kalos region in a partnership with the champion over there. But you told Ingo that you would give him a very special night if he didn't masturbate until you came back.

Ingo needs you. You need him.

Given that you were away for almost two weeks, you thought that Ingo would crack. He's a little deviant pervert as well in the end just as much as you are. But Ingo has been a very good boy.

When you finally return home, you're pleasantly surprised by how clean it is. Ingo does have your apartment key but the rose petals on the ground were simply so. . . divine. He really has been waiting so long for you.

You come into the bedroom to see a bashful Ingo, dressed in that lingerie you liked so much. Just seeing him like this makes you bite your lip in anticipation as you undress.

As you finally kiss him, your tongue meeting his as your naked bodies rut against each other, you find out that he's already prepared himself as he pulls out a butt plug. He whines, looking at you with big needy eyes, "Please, I need you to fuck me," but you ask hungrily if he came without you. To his hesitation, he answers yes so you do the correct thing. You punish your naughty boy toy by slapping a too snug cock ring on him.

But then the fun starts. With his hole already prepared, your dick slides in with ease, feeling his tight body clench sweetly around your cock. You only give Ingo a moment of mercy before you slam your hips into his, focusing only on your own climax rather than his.

Ingo is quick to moan and cry, begging for release but you deny him that pleasure, only seeking yours.

Granted it's been a while for you too, with you fucking him so harshly you reach climax as well. But you don't relent, you don't give mercy, you might as well fuck him until dawn comes because you're not stopping until you're satisfied.

Ingo is just so sensitive, his swollen cock leaking pre all over himself and your body as it desperately pulses, wanting to reach climax. You pin him down by the wrists, biting and sucking on his neck since your last love bites had already faded. Ingo can't help but to make whorish moans as he begs for mercy.

Hearing him call your name, admitting how much of a good boy he is while taking your hot cock all at once is just divine. Your second climax is harder than your first, draining your balls into him.

But you don't stop. You force Ingo to be face down, ass up, assaulting his body as deep as you can go. Ingo is so far gone by this point, words can't come out of his mouth right and his body goes entirely limp. You tell him it's okay to be tired, it's okay to be limp, you'll just keep fucking him until he's so full of cum. Until he can't walk at all the next day.

Your third round lasts the longest, Ingo is a total mess, his speech slurring and his vision dizzy with how badly he needs his release.

So you give him some mercy. You turn his body around, undo the cock ring, and fuck him like the animal you are, breeding your mate. He's so quick to cum but when you don't stop, he can't stop crying. He's a sobbing, moaning mess and you love it.

Then finally, as deep as you can go, you slam your hips against his one. Last. Time.

Ingo for obvious reasons is in a loose state of mind. You make sure to clean him up with a warm wet rag, providing him with some water for all the screaming he had done, and pulling him close to your body. As he gains a bit more clarity, his body is just so fatigued that he can't do anything but rest. So you give him that rest, your naked form comforting his.

[im-the-reader-of-which-you-speak]

Cool Cut

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Reader wants a cool, unconventional haircut, but is too shy to get it. Or at least that would be the case, if she wasn't dating Eddie Munson.

Word count: ~1,000

Notes: Reader is implied to have hair long enough to cut. The hair cut they want is described in the first sentence. Not sure if it will work for all hair textures. I think the details are pretty vague otherwise. -- Eddie calls Reader "Babe" and "Baby." -- No pronouns used, but the haircut they want is on a girl. -- Y/N is not used.

Her hair was long in the front and short in the back, like a reverse mullet. The magazine she lies in is a few years old at this point, the cover reads "August 21, 1984." That's how long you've been thinking about the damn haircut.

It was weird. It was unconventional.

It was cool.

You run your fingers through your hair, imagining what it'd be like to have a cut like that. Eddie pokes his head over your shoulder.

"With how much you stare at that lady, I'm starting to think you have a crush, babe." He kisses your neck. "Should I be jealous?"

"No no- don't worry, it's nothing like that! I've only got eyes for you, promise." Setting the tattered magazine down, full attention now on your boyfriend... Only for Eddie to pick it up again and flip right to the page.

"Ya sure? This is the third time you pulled that thing out this week. You study this page like Picasso painted it."

"She just has cool hair 'is all. Don't think I've ever seen anything like it."

He lets out a knowing hum, playing with his curls. "Think I should get it? Would ya like it shorter?" He shines a playful smile.

"No!" You snatch away the magazine before it gives him anymore ideas. "I love your hair exactly how it is!" You grab two fists full of his locks as if that will protect them.

He chuckles, gives you a kiss on the forehead and grabs your hands. "Yeah I love it too. Don't worry, this mop isn't going anywhere." He gives his crown a good shake, relishing in his abundance of curls.

"So do you want a cut like that?"

"Oh uh. Ha, I don't think real people have that sort of hair. That's reserved for like, rockstars and models. Not us lowly serfs."

"Says who? What, are the fashion police gonna stop us?" He hops off the sofa, finger gun pointed in your face. "Place the shears on the ground! We have you surrounded!"

"Officer! I was only getting a bob, I swear!"

"Likely story. With a cut this stylish, you're looking at a lifetime of conical bras high-waisted suspenders."

"Noooo!" You throw your hands up, surrendering to Officer Munson.

Grinning from ear to ear, Eddie ends the scene and returns to his place next to you on the couch. "I know you have shears in the bathroom. The style doesn't look that hard, I bet I could do it if you want."

You thought about it again. Feeling the breeze on your neck. How the long bits in the front would frame your face. You sigh. "No... Thanks but, nobody has hair like that. I'm not trying to put a target on my back." You fold in on yourself. "Probably wouldn't even look good on me anyway."

"Woah. First of all, you'd look hot wearing a fishbowl on your head. You'd look even better embracing your own style." You shy away from his words, but he pulls you right back to him.

"Second of all, what with this target? You're already dating the Freak of Hawkins High." He hops out of his seat, putting on the theatrics. "Are you gonna let them suppress you? Stamp out your individuality? Mold you into a drone like them?"

"Yes."

"So not metal." He rolls his eyes, shot down by words. His body drops down like a sand bag, weighted by disappointment. "I can't control you, babe, but I hope you know I love you. No matter the hair style."

"Even if it's matted and ratty?"

"Even if you were bald. And I think anyone worth a damn would too. 'Cuz you got good taste, baby. And anyone who thinks differently can fuck off!"

How does he make it look so easy? He dances through life like no one is watching. He screams to the world that he's a nerdy metalhead freak every day. He doesn't give the backlash a second thought.

If you were Eddie, you would have had this haircut for years now. And here you are longing for it. What to you is a dream, for him is a reality. You loved Eddie. You loved his style, every little weird thing about him, all his unconventional hobbies. To you he's the epitome of cool.

Man, how did you score a piece like him?

"Okay let's do it."

"Wait what?" Eddie tuned out while you were admiring him. It takes a second to process what you're saying.

"We have hair clippers. Let's do it" You hand him the magazine for reference.

"Fuck yeah baby let's do this!"

You wash your hair and throw on one of Eddie's shirts, one that you don't mind sacrificing to the prickly hair gods. You look in the bathroom mirror. Eddie stands behind you, pulling goofy faces, pretending to be some crazed killer with the scissors.

"Ready babe? Standing firm? Don't move around too much, I don't want to cut your ear off." You take a second to ground yourself, you're really gonna do this. Grasping the sink, you look at Eddie's eyes and he gives you a reassuring smile in the mirror.

"Ready."

He combs through your hair, separating a bit from the back.

Snip!

There's a drop in your stomach as you watch the wet loc fall to the ground.

"Hey could you pull your head back a bit?" He gently guides your face back up to the mirror. "Stay still, let me work my magic here."

Snip snip snip

Eventually you close your eyes-- you can't keep looking anymore. Deep breaths, you focus on Eddie's guiding hands. His fingers lightly scratching across your scalp. The long inhale he takes before holding his breath as he focuses. The long exhale that leaves his mouth as he makes the last cut.

"Done!"

You open your eyes, but he covers them immediately.

"Uh oh Munson, what did you do?"

"Gave you the perfect hair cut. But don't look yet! Let me comb it out and dry it first."

Your eyes mostly remain closed as he gets rid of all the stray hairs, but you manage sneak a little peek while Eddie is blowdrying your hair. His tongue pokes out as he concentrates.

"No peeking!" He blasts your peeping eye with the blow dryer.

A final brush out later he finally announces that you can look.

"What'd'ya think babe? Lookin' like a rockstar?"

Any reasonable person would probably not let Eddie cut their hair. Any reasonable person would probably lock away any sharp objects in his line of site.

But good thing you weren't reasonable, because it was perfect.

"Wow. Eddie, when did you go to cosmetology school?"

"So you like it?"

"Eddie, it's exactly what I wanted."

"Yeah, but how do you feel?"

Finally seeing yourself with the hair you always wanted, only one word comes to mind.

"Metal."

"Damn right you do babe." He squeezes your torso and places a fat kiss on your lips.

If there was any question amongst the student body of Hawkins High that you two were dating, there isn't anymore. Because you two freaks belong together. You guys were too cool for the rest of them anyway.

[here2bbtstrash]

okay SO!

i have a long-running history of coming up with chaotic bangtan prompts to bother my friends with - once dubbed ~thot exercises~ ✨ - and i'm bored and one just popped into my head - so i figure maybe we can start doing them together 🥺

i shall present the prompt and my thoughts - feel free to comment, reblog, or even make a new post and share your own opinions if you feel differently! (just be sure to tag me hehe) there are no wrong answers - you're welcome to provide explanation for your choices, or absolutely no supporting evidence, just ~vibes~ 🤍

bts as iconic mall stores

namjoon: barnes & noble (or lowkey even borders, RIP queen) - dependable, cozy, and chock full of new things to learn and old favorites to revisit again and again. a respite from the overstimulation outside its doors - curl up with your latest find and stay for hours 📚

seokjin: if i say bass pro shops am i getting disowned 🧐 okok how about instead we go with hot topic (current era not the scary hot topic of my childhood lmao) - pop culture and anime references galore! adorable tchotchkes from all your favorite shows! you're definitely not leaving without at least one plushie! all in all, an underrated fave 🌸

yoongi: williams sonoma/sur la table - well-stocked, refined, and fancy enough that you lowkey wonder why you're allowed to be in here. what the fuck is a decanter? what purpose does molding ice into a sphere even serve? and why is that slotted spoon $45?! 🔪

hoseok: auntie anne's (or cinnabon, or jamba juice) - you spy it between the passing crowds and your whole face lights up. is that - could it be?! the stop that makes even the most chaotic of mall outings worthwhile. everyone loves it - and how could they not??? 🥨

jimin: tiffany's - elegant, stunning, timeless; you can't tear your eyes away whenever you pass by, it's all just too gorgeous, you have to stop and stare. (and wow, that model on the wall is stunning too 👀) of course it's far too expensive, but... can't a person dream?! 💍

taehyung: honestly? that new designer store that you swear wasn't here the last time you went shopping. when did we get a - gucci, burberry, LV?? whatever it is, it looks like a museum in there - and why is there a velvet rope and a bouncer outside? you don't even bother going in - everything is distinctly out of your league 👜

jungkook: hollister/abercrombie - it's dark as fuck, the aroma is certainly strong, and - hold up, why is everyone naked??? why is everything low rise AND cropped??? does that model have an EIGHT pack?? you're immediately overwhelmed - but the playlist is fire 🏝

[changingplumbob]

Coming this rotation, a new High School!

In my mod frustration I took a break from gameplay and rebuilt my old very square high school. I changed the time of day for taking photos and cheated the weather to sunny about 5 times but it kept raining so we're just going to roll with it. I mean at least it shows off the covered walkways?

As you walk on to the grounds the building on the right is the first stop. It is the reception area of the school and features the first aid room and principals office. We may or may not see the principals office depending on how evil a certain sim will be once they age up to a teen.

If you exited the office and went past the picnic tables to a side walkway you would find the basketball court (yes this is 100% here because @matchalovertrait character Dulce played basketball which made me remember most high schools have a court). The end of the walkway has a group cheer mat which Onyx may or may not use, obviously not in this weather, they like their hair too much. Opposite this is a proper sized pool inspired by the wonderful high school build done by @stargazer-sims (seriously wanting a pool even close to yours was a main drive of redoing the place).

What? We can walk from the pool to the main building without getting rained on? How convenient in this deluge! As we turn to look back at the pool notice how the watcher solved the empty space problem by chucking down a whole skating rink. Back into the main building and we're greeted by a pride flag because this is an inclusive school even if the principal is an arse gosh darn it!

I thought I couldn't get a more colourful cafeteria then I went and built it! Please notice the pride flag wall (please let me know if I forgot any key ones and I'll add them), colourful menus and a security camera to keep track of who really starts those food fights.

Double doors lead to an outside eating area, once again covered and- who put a waterslide back there? Seriously questionable building taste (it's me, I have questionable building taste). There's also a couple of swing sets because you're never too old for swings.

The other set of internal double doors lead to the library which is kindly being modeled by the default principal. Space for group study and comfy reading. I liked the idea of taller tables and normal height tables coexisting in the space. Room to work on projects together or study alone.

What's that you say? I've never looked into voidcritter lore despite owning kids room stuff? Me neither my friend. Didn't stop me from decorating the locker section with them though. If we continue clockwise- oh look, a full length mirror! How convenient for image obsessed teens without them clogging the bathrooms. You can also see the space on the opposite side of the cafeteria where there is a mural outline in case sims want to fill it in (I'm looking at you art lover Carson who still managed to get a low boost to his exam despite not having art knowledge). Anyway back to clockwise, this is my math class. Math diagrams because math.

And then we come out of the side hallway where the entrance to math was and face back towards the front entrance. Let me just take a minute to highlight that all bathrooms here are unisex individual spaces. Gender is a social construct and honestly making a group of young people who are already self conscious get changed in the same space is... not a great plan. The bathrooms in the pool also look like this. Down our second side corridor and I wonder what could be here. Oh look at that art, it kind of looks like something @eljeebee reblogged yesterday... silver and yellow... (I swear I forgot about seeing it until after I finished the build and I rechecked tumblr and saw it again. It's not my fault Lana is being an influencer)

Through the door you will find the graphics studio/art class. Hopefully it can inspire the students a bit. Alas not much room for easels but in graphics in high school all we needed was blank paper and a good desk.

Then we have business class right by the front entrance. Why is it so feminine I hear you say? Because business is for women to! Eliza is proving that. And I fell in love with the colour scheme and ran with it... And I wanted to try different style individual desks in different classes. Have you noticed this is the third room with different style desk? Probably not as this is the first time I'm mentioning it.

To the other side of the entrance we have two more classes (these are bordering the cafeteria). First up, computer science! Not a single computer in sight! Because when I tried to put computers at desks the students just sat in a huddle by the door and all got yelled at by the principal didn't they (I am sorry about that detention Onyx and Carson, my bad). Next we have social studies, one of my school favourites! Broke out the dino wallpaper and some maps to go with historic pieces. Fun fact, I'm useless at geography, couldn't find anywhere on a map really.

Now upstairs may seem a bit of a jumble... But that's just because it is. The main landing connects with a small workout area. Here we have a punching bad, some yoga mats, and the traditional exercise machine and treadmill for those before class tasks. Of course we have a sneaky bit of unicorn art as tribute to the queen of unicorns @azuhrasims herself.

In one of the upstairs corners we have our Language Studies room. And look, there's the big blank spot on the wall I couldn't decide decor for, oops. I have a film poster in here because my English teacher had film posters up and I loved them! Then we have a chill hang out space with a variety of comfy seats to choose from. These wall murals really set the vibe I wanted. A place to relax indoors that wasn't the cafeteria.

Next corner we have the science class where I definitely did not go overboard with green, nope not me. I wanted to chuck some chem labs in here but I also wanted each class to be able to sit 10. When I play the Pancakes next both teens will need to be in the same class so I'm going to run that week with a larger mixed class, they'll each have 4 friends of their own age in their class for company. Then we have what I assume was the builder's attempt at a Foreign Language classroom? Between quilted floor tiles and gingham walls I'd guess they were out of ideas by the time they got to this room (yeah I kind of was, plus I just don't know what to put in a foreign language class when all simlish is foreign to me)

And finally we have Olive Grim! Wife of the reaper who is kindly testing my build out for me in the photography save. I should have had her test a shower in the bathrooms but hindsight is 20/20 or whatever the saying is. She's chilling in the most bland boring room I could make for my sims to have to sit exams in. No inspiration and no cheating off classroom posters!

Thank you for coming on my tour. Once again I am sorry about the rain! I even skipped forward a whole other day and it was still there... at least we're putting the covered walkways to use I guess?

[bbrissonn]

𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 - 𝐍𝐞𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐫 𝐉𝐫.

disclaimer: not proofread

warnings: swear words, both neymar and the reader are bitches in this...

wc: 4.2k (including lyrics)

pairing: neymar jr x model!reader 

bold italic = lyrics

series masterlist 

You got blood on your hands 

How you do plead? 

Boy, it’s like treason, how you treated me 

It’s eight mondays in a row, nine days of the week 

These tantrums been old 

All bitter, no sweet 

You’re killing my vibe 

In ways words cannot describe 

But I’ll try, I’ll try 

You let out a sigh as you checked your phone for the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Your boyfriend, Neymar, was supposed to be meeting you in front of a fancy restaurant he had found, only it had now been almost an hour that you’ve been waiting and you hadn’t heard a single word from him. No text, no call, nothing. 

Trying to distract yourself, you opened instagram and clicked on Kylian’s story, only for your heart to drop when it showed you a picture of him along with his teammate out at a party, Neymar’s smile looking right at you. Your hand clenched your phone as you quickly made your way back to your car, slamming your door behind yourself. This was now the fourth time your boyfriend had stood you up in the last month, but this time was even worse. He had stood you up on your three year anniversary. 

As you left the parking lot, you made a decisions, you weren’t going home. Well, at least not at Neymar’s home where you had been staying for the past couple of months, instead you were going to spend the night at your apartment, far away from him. When you opened the door to your home, a weird feeling took over your body, you hadn’t came here since he had helped you move out most of your things.

You ignored the feeling inside of you, instead walking over to your bedroom and changing out of the dress you had put on, one he had bought specifically for this night. As you started taking off your makeup, your mind started to wonder why Neymar hadn’t texted you yet. Normally, when he stood you up, he’d at least send you some kind of signal to let you know he was still alive, but this time it was radio silent. 

A frustrated groan left your mouth as your call went straight to his voicemail, something that had never happened to you before. Was he doing this on purpose? Or was his phone just simply dead? But then again, you don’t even remember the last time his phone had died, always carrying a portable charger around with him. So, he was ignoring, right? Your hands pulled at your hair as the thoughts of what he could be doing at the moment flooded your mind. 

It was almost midnight now, you were laying down on your couch, watching some series you had found earlier in the night, when a loud knock came from your front door, making you jump a bit. The smile at was on plastered on your face quickly dropped as you looked throught your peehole, only to see the man of the night on the other side of your door. 

“What do you want?” You asked, anger in your voice as you opened your door slightly, making Neymar’s brow furr even more than they already were. 

“Meu amor, what are you doing here? And why haven’t you been answering my texts and my calls? I’ve been so worried about you!” He said, his tone soft and calm, the complete opposite of the look on his face. You roll your eyes at his words, making him even more confused about what was going on. 

“Now you’re worried? What about when I was standing in the cold for a full hour waiting for you, only to find out from Kyks’ insta story that you were at some party? Huh, were you worried about me?” You sassed, making his face fall. He had completely forgotten the two of you had a date, when his practice had ended, he only one thing on his mind, going home and cuddling with you for the rest of the day. But Kylian had convinced him to come hang out with him and a couple of the guys, and he later found himself being dragged to a party. 

“Bebe, I’m so sorry, I completely forgot–” 

“Of course you did, you always forget!” You cut him off as you walked away from the door, leaving it open as a sign for him to follow you. Once you heard the door closed, you turned around to look at him and you let it all out. 

“It’s the fourth time you’ve stood me up, Neymar! You always forget, always! But that’s not even the worse part. You don’t know what today is, do you?” You asked, your tone harsh and sharp, making him look down at his feet. You took his silence as a “no” to your question, making you let out a laugh as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Of course you don’t, why would you remember our one year anniversary when you can’t even remember a simple date night.” Your words making him look up at you with a guilty look on his face, biting his lip before opening his mouth, only you cut him off before he even had to chance to let out a single sound. 

“I’m so sick and tired of this, Neymar! You’re always coming home late and drunk out of your mind, we never spend time together anymore and when we schedule time for us, you don’t show up, not even bothering to let me know you’re still alive or that you wouldn’t show up. Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to sit in those restaurant telling the waiters that I was waiting for someone for over an hour every time, only for you to never show up? All the looks of pity I got? You wanna know the worse part of that, one time there was a group of teen girls that recognized me, they were sitting right next to my table, and they probably figure out I was waiting for you, and you wanna know what they said to me when I was leaving? They said you were probably fucking some model. Everyday I wake up and all I see when I open an app is cheating rumors, people saying we’ve broken up, pictures of you with your arms around million of girls. And I am just supposed to be okay with that?” You yelled out, your voice breaking at the down as you tried to hold back your tears. 

Neymar tried to take a step towards you, his hand reaching for you, but you quickly took a step back, shaking your head as you looked at him dead in the eyes. His whole mood changed as he realized just how much he had hurt you, but it was too late now. 

“We’re done.” You whispered before walking away from him and locking yourself in your bedroom, your back hitting the door as you slowly let yourself fall to the floor, tears falling from your eyes. You heard footsteps coming closer and closer to the door until he was standing right on the other side of it. 

“I’ll come drop off your things tomorrow.” He said, his voice showing no emotion, no regret, nothing. A sob left your mouth as you realized he didn’t even care that the two of you weren’t together anymore, not even bothering to apologize for all the pain he had caused you. 

You put the “over” in lover, put the “ex” in next 

Ain’t no “I” in trouble, you the “U” since we met 

‘Cause you’re toxic, boy 

I ain’t even gotta try to find the 

G-O-O-D in goodbye 

You had been awake for not even 5 minutes before you shoot up in your bed, your mouth hanging low at what you had just seen. This man had the audacity to go to another party after he left your home, bringing a girl home with him and making no effort to hide it from the papparazzis. The headline of all the articles being rumors of Neymar cheating on you, asking if the two of you had broken up or not. But what completely broke you was a video that was taken while Neymar was guiding the girl back to his car. 

“Neymar! Neymar are you and Y/N still together?” The man behind the camera asked, making the football chuckle a bit with a small on his face. 

“No.” He answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and you felt your world coming down on you. The way he just didn’t care that the two of you were done, going as far as going back to his old habits the minute he left your home a single man, completely breaking you. 

You waisted no time getting out of bed and taking a box out, throwing all of his things in it. All his shirts, pants, hoodies, everything he had left over here or that you’d stolen from him, all making their way into the box. As you cleared the top of your dresser, your eyes landed on the letter he had written for you barely a month ago to celebrate your 3 years together. 

You knew it was a petty thing to do, but you didn’t care, and he obviously didn’t care about how you felt, so was it really that bad? You preferred not to think about it to much as you opened your sharpie and wrote in big ‘FUCK YOU’ over and over again so it filled up the whole letter. You smiled at your work before placing it on the top of box, making sure it’d be the first thing he saw when he opened, along with the promise ring you dented using a knife in the your kitchen. 

A misviouse smile was plastered on your face as you knocked on his front door, you knew he was home from training, since his car was in the driveway and he barely even went out after practice. 

“Hi!” You say way too happily as he opens the door, pushing your way inside. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked, his brows furred as he followed behind you over to the kitchen, where you dropped the box on the counter. 

“Dropping off your things.” You said with a smile on your face as you looked him straight in the eyes, holding back the want of hitting him and yelling at him. 

“Oh, uh, thanks. You didn’t have to.” 

“Oh it’s not a problem, really. I even left you a little gift, something to remember me by.” You said, and something about the way you spoke scared him. Barely twelve hours ago you were crying because of him, and now here you stood in his kitchen, a giant smile on your face as you talked about giving him a gift. He looked at you weirdly for a couple of seconds before opening the box, his jaw dropping as his eyes fell in the ring. 

“What the fuck, Y/N!” He exclaimed as his fingers grabbed the ring, pulling it out of the box as he examined it carely, his eyes growing wide as he realized just how bad the dent was. 

“Looks nice doesn’t it?” 

“Why the fuck would you do this? Do you know how much this costed me?” He yelled angrily, only making your smile grow bigger, scaring him even more. 

“I thought I would do to the ring, something you called a ‘symbole of our love’, what you did to my heart.” You sassed, making his face fall. There it was, you weren’t here because you had moved on or anything, no you were here to take your revenge. 

“Keep looking, there’s plenty more for you discover. Now, if you don’t mind, I am gonna go pack my things.” You answered with a smile on your face, not waiting for his answer before making your way to his bedroom, your suitcase following behind you. Neymar stood in place for a couple of seconds, his eyes staring at the spot where you once stood, he shook his head a bit before going back to the box. 

As for you, you slowly packed all your things, ‘accidently’ breaking a thing or two you had bought for him before making your way over to his bathroom. At first, you thought about emptying all his shower product, but he could just buy more, so instead, you decided to put red dye inside all of them, leaving a nice surprise for the next time he’d take his shower. 

You hummed a melody as you made your way back downstairs, an angry Neymar waiting for you in the kitchen, making your smile grow even wider. This was pettiest you had ever been, but you didn’t care. He hurt you, and you knew the only way you could ever hurt him that bad would be to take away his family, but you had your limits. So this was the best you could do, and you absolutely loved it. 

“Okay, what the actual fuck is wrong with you!” He yelled out as you walked in, all of his clothe laying on the kitchen island with holes in them, gratitude of your scissors. Now he didn’t care about it that much, what he was the most angry about was all his brazil gear teared up, he knew you knew how much he cared about them and planned to keep them intact for the rest of his life, which he know wouldn’t be able to do. But what really angered him the most was his ‘100% JESUS’ headband cut in half, right in between the lettering. 

“Oh yeah, the ring wasn’t enough, so I thought they should feel it too, you know.” You explained, a smirk on your face as his hands grabbed the headband his eyes looking at so sadly before looking up at you. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“I don’t know, Neymar. Why do you think I am doing this?” You answered with sass, making him scoff, his eyes still looking at your smiling face. You didn’t leave him to answer, walking straight past him and out of the house. Leaving out a sigh as you fell behind the wheel of your car, your eyes closing, holding back your tears. 

You put the “over” in lover, put the “ex” in next 

Ain’t no “I” in trouble, you the “U” since we met 

‘Cause you’re toxic, boy 

I ain’t even gotta try to find the 

G-O-O-D in goodbye 

“So, Y/N, you and your ex, Neymar, broke up a little over a month ago and you haven’t spoken out about it yet. Is this the day where we finally get something out of you?” The interview asked with a hopeful smile on his face, making you laugh a bit. You had done quite a lot of interview with him, and you knew that he’d never push you to answer his question, but you finally felt ready to talk about it. 

“Just because it’s you!” You answered, making the two of you laugh. After you had gotten back from Neymar’s house, you were quick to delete him off your social media’s and unfollowing, something both of your fans were quick to catch and post about. You still talked to Davi a lot whenever he was at home with his mom, but never when he was in Paris, something he surprisingly understood. 

“Did it have anything to do about all the article of him and the girl?” 

“No, not all. We broke couple of hours before it happened, he made the decision to do that and that’s on him. He messed up, in a lot of ways, I don’t feel one bit sorry for him about the whole situation that happened about that night. He knew what he was doing, he took those decisions, and that’s on him.” You said, holding back a smile at memories of your little morning at his house. That same night, you had received a lot of angry texts from Neymar asking if you had done anything to his products, and asking why his hair and body were now dyed red. You didn’t bother to answer him, leaving him on read was enough of an answer for him. 

“I just wanna say, I think the whole world was quite surprised when the whole situation happened, I mean, you guys looked happy and perfect together.” 

“Yeah, I like to think we were at the beginning, but things had definitely not been perfect and happy for the last couple of months. I feel like the end of our relationship was actually quite toxic from someone’s side, but oh well. What’s done is done, it’s in the past now.” You said, proud of yourself for actually moving on this quickly. You didn’t feel any kind of hatred or anger towards the footballer anymore, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to see him again without having the need to yell at him. 

“And how have you been holding up?” 

“Surpringsly better than I thought I would. I’ve been surrounding myself with people who really appreciate me and love me, so I’ve been good.” You said, making Neymar bit his lip as the words filled his ears. He was currently in the PSG dinning area, his headphones in as your newest interview played on his phone. Ever since that morning, all he could think about was you. He missed a whole lot more than he thought he would, making him regret the way he had treated you for the last couple of months. All you had ever done was be there for him for everything, and he thanked you by treating you like shit. But it was too late now,  what’s done is done, it’s in the past now. 

I would take a bullet for you just to prove my love 

Only to find out you are the one holding the gun 

I’m just tryna get focus 

Take some times for me 

People started noticing all the shit you couldn’t see 

You let out a grunt as you walked into a hard chest, making you fall bawkards before two arms caught you, making you look up at the person, only for your jaw to clench as your eyes met you Neymar’s. You harshly pulled yourself out of his hold, making gulp before speaking, but you beat him to it. 

“Look where you’re going, will you?” You said harshly over the loud music of the party, before walking past him, your shoulder bumping into his a bit. Only, he quickly grabbed your wrist, turning you around to face him. 

“Can we talk, please?” He asked softly, making you roll your eyes. 

“No.” You answered simply before walking from him once again, only this time he didn’t grab onto you, instead letting you walk to your friends. He should’ve known you were going to be here, after all this party was thrown by your agency, it’d be even more weird if you weren’t there. Neymar let out a sigh and made his way back to his friends, his eyes still looking over at you every once and a while, something that didn’t go unnoticed by his friends and by yourself. 

Later that evening, you found yourself leaning against the railing of one of the balcony of the venue, your breath slow and peaceful as your eyes looked over at the city below you, all the lights, cars driving by and all the honking giving some sort of comfort. Only that was ruined when the person you least wanted to see joined you, making you roll your eyes a bit. 

“Pretty, huh?” He spoked softly with a small smile on his face as he looked over at you, but you didn’t react. You stayed in the same position you were in before, eyes staring at the city. 

“I am gonna be honest, I was a little confused when I started rinsing my hair and the water was red, thought I was bleeding or something. Then I checked the bottle, good thing I checked my body wash too, huh? Didn’t know you had that in you.” He smirked once he saw a little smile grown on your face, your eyes still staring ahead, but he considered it a small victory. 

“You deserved it. I could’ve done worse, you know.” You stated coldly, making the small joy from his tiny victory disappear quickly. He left out a sigh, leaning his elbows on the railing as well. 

“I did. If it would’ve been anyone else I would’ve been angry, but you did it and you’re right about me deserving it.” He spoke softly, his eyes now also looking at the brightly lit city in front of you. 

“Glad to know you realized it two fucking months too late, Neymar.” You said harshly, making him cringe at the way his name rolled off your tongue. The way it used to be so soft and comforting, now cold and strict. 

“Y/N, I am so, so fucking sorry, okay? I was shitty towards you and I didn’t realize it, and when you brought it up to me, I was an asshole about it all the time, and I am so sorry for hurting you, meu amor.” He whispered, and unlike that night when the two of you broke up, there was some emotion behind the words he spoke, making you close your eyes so no tears would fall from them because of the memory. 

“And I understand if you hate me and you never want to see me again after this, because you have every right to feel that way after what I did to you, but I want you to know that if I could, I would take it all back, I really would, Y/N. You’re the most amazing thing that happened to me and I was an idiot and I ruined it, and that’s all on me, it’s my fault. And I am sorry because you didn’t deserve that, at all, and it wasn’t fair for you.” He continued, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he realized just how much he had fucked up. Now, he already knew, but saying it out loud made it sound so much more real and it made the whole situation really sink into his head. 

“I don’t hate you, Ney. I could never hate you, I wish I could, but I can’t because I love you too much to ever feel that way towards you. But you hurt me, over and over again and every time I brought it up to you, you just shrugged me off like it was nothing, like how I felt wasn’t important. So, I don’t hate you, I hate the way you treat me, I hate the way even though I want to I’ll never be able to hate you, Neymar.” You said, your voice shaky as you tried your hardest not to cry. The footballer sniffed and took a deep breath before speaking once again. 

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” He whispered, reaching his out for your shoulder, but you quickly stepped away from him, making his heart drop. 

“So am I.” You said, finally letting a tear fall before walking away from him, making your way straight to your car and home, leaving a crying Neymar all alone on the balcony, tears slowly falling from his eyes as he realized your relationship was now officially over, the chances of the two of you ever talking again being as slim as the chances of the two of you dating again. 

G-O-O-D in goodbye 

“Y/N! Y/N, over here!” A paparazzi yelled as you walked out a fashion show, you tried your best to follow your agent as closely as possible, but all the lights and flashes  made it impossible for you to see where you were going. 

“Y/N, are you and Neymar ever going to get back together?” Another yelled, making you looked at him, your face softened a bit at the sound of his name filling your eyes before you answered the question. 

“No.” 

“Y/N, what do you think about Neymar’s new girlfriend?” One called out, making you roll your eyes at his question. You weren’t stupid, you had seen all the news and posts about him and his new girlfriend, you heart clenching as you looked at all the pictures. She was the opposite of you, blond hair, blue eyes, now she was pretty, but you knew you were in a way higher league than her, all your contracts and magazine covers made that obvious. His sister had even texted you about her, whining about how rude and mean his new girlfriend was, even towards Neymar himself. How bad of a girlfriend she was towards him, the way he always complained about her going out to parties with guys.  

“Karma’s a bitch.” You answered with a smirk, now you didn’t care if no one else understood, you knew Neymar would, and that’s all that mattered to you.

[yervevee]

— You are beautiful, ya know?

I swear, I didn't reflect my mood at all in this little one-shot *lie*.

I hope you like it, and I hope that these little writings of mine about chubby readers can help - even if just a little -.

Remember that you are perfect. In any way and in any form, you are perfect<3

You looked at yourself in the mirror. No, you weren't looking either. You were judging yourself. You judged every flaw you could see in your reflection.

Your eyes, which weren't the way you wanted them and the nose that they had always talked badly about. You looked at your cheeks, plump, like a child's. but not in a nice way. You looked at your double chin, which you could barely see, but it was there.

You looked at your arms, which weren't as slender as your friends'. You looked at your hips so big and without a precise shape, you would like to have them like those models. It was a dream of yours, to become a model. Your thighs were thick, touching each other. And you really didn't like your knees.

You were entering a vortex where you only looked for your flaws. You seemed paralyzed, he thought, as he entered your shared room. You hadn't even noticed his arrival, how busy you were judging your appearance. So you jumped, when you felt his hands grip your waist and his lips on your cheeks.

“Y/n?” He asked, looking at you worriedly.

For a moment you felt breathless, as if he had caught you doing something you should be ashamed of. But that was just normality for you.

“O-Oh hey,” you said, looking away from your figure to look at his face. Oh how beautiful it was.

"What were you doing in the mirror? It looked like you were...analyzing yourself" your boyfriend murmured, as you could see the concern rising in his face. He already knew what you were doing, you could imagine.

“I wasn't analyzing myself – I was just… watching” you murmured, feeling a sense of unease as you slowly realized where this was going. “You know,” he began to speak, turning you around so he couldn’t see you in the mirror. He could sense the discomfort in your eyes.

"I know what you're doing. I know you only look in the mirror to see the bad things in you, in your body," he said in a firm tone. You felt the earth fall beneath you, as a whirlwind of thoughts and worries assailed you.

"he knows. He knows what I do. What will he think of me now? He doesn't like me anymore right? Maybe he never even-"

your thoughts were interrupted by his voice, in a tone as sweet as you had ever heard it.

"Y/n. You are beautiful. You are perfect, even if you are chubby, even if you can see your double chin or your thighs touch each other. For me, you are perfect." He said as he caressed your cheek with one hand.

"Why don't you see yourself as perfect too?" he asked you. Not in a tone of pity, but of sadness.

his words, his empathy, his love, were what broke you. In an instant you were in his arms as tears streamed down your face and your sobs were the only thing you could hear.

Why didn't you see them as perfect? Yes, that was a good question.

He carried you to the bed and laid you down, making you stick to the pillow as if you were delicate enough to break at any moment. He lay down next to you and caressed your hair, your cheeks, your hands while only comforting words came out of his lips. He let you vent until your sobs stopped and the tears stopped falling.

Then, he spoke. “I'll help you Y/n.” he started to say, then you turned to him. “I will help you love yourself, look at yourself in the mirror and instead of looking at how ugly you are, you will look at how beautiful you are.

Because Y/n you are beautiful. Inside and out. You are the person I have always needed, the person I needed to love and make me mine. Y/n you are everything I have always wanted and to thank you for loving me, I will make sure that you are able to love yourself as I do" he concluded the sentence, with the serious look that he is not lying about.

With a look full of affection that made you think that deep down, if a person like him loved you, maybe you would love yourself too.

YUJI ITADORI, Kita Shinsuke, Yuta Okkotsu, AKAASHI KEIJI, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Osamu Miya, Yaku Morisuke.

[nkirukaj]

vVv is for Voe (11)

Pairing: StaticBeau & RadioBeau

Warnings: Swearing;

Genre: Humor! Angst!

Word Count: 2.8K

11. Improv, Baby

That morning Voe was called down for breakfast, at Valentino’s request. She came down to see the other Vees sitting in the dining room on their phones, not paying any attention to her whatsoever. 

“Hey guys,” Voe said as she entered the area

“Hey,” Vox says without looking up

Velvette glances up for a moment and waves “Morning love,”

She sits down at the table with them and taps on the wood

“Could you stop?” Vox shoots out, finally looking up from his phone. He turns to Velvette “So how’s the show going?”

Velvette slams the table “Awful! None of these models know how to walk! I even got them surgery for their feet and still, they walk like constipated zombies!”

“Yeah that’s terrible, make sure the show still goes on at like 8 or something I don’t know. it’s a primetime slot so don’t waste it. Val where’s my fucking coffee?!”

Valentino enters the dining room butt ass naked holding a mug that says “FUCK ALASTOR” and places it in front of Vox “Right here mi amor,” Vox doesn’t look up but grabs the coffee cup. Val sucks his teeth and grabs Vox by the chin turning his face to look at him

“What?!” Val glares at him, Vox rolls his eyes “Thank you,” Val releases his chin

Voe stares at the 10-foot-tall moth as he places the plates on the dining room table. He smirks at her

“See something you like?” and watches his hips sway and his butt jiggle as he reenters the kitchen

“Does he always make food naked?” 

Vel waves her off “Yeah, it’s just his thing,”

“Yeah, I can see his thing swinging with every step,”

She shrugs “Eh, food’s good though,”

“A little spicy for me,” Vox adds

Voe blinks dramatically “Okay. Well, when do I get my own department?”

“Ah ah ah! No business talk at the breakfast table,” Val sashays back in with his own plate and sits down next to her

She gestures to the other Overlords “They’re on their phones,”

“I didn’t say no phones,” he shrugs

“So you sit in silence?”

“If you want,” he starts to dig in

Vox scoffs “What? Would you like to talk about something? Vera?”

She shivers at the use of her real name “Firstly, why are you calling me that?”

“Well, that’s your name love,” Velvette added

“I go by Voe, thanks,”

“I don’t care what you go by. Is this what you wanted to talk about? You want to quarrel at the table? Is that what you did when you were alive? Your parents fought every morning?”

Voe furrows her brows “No,”

“Or was that you and your mother? Says you had an ‘okay’ relationship?”

She tilts her head “How do you know that?”

Vox sips his coffee “You left your little file lying around, so I thought I’d take a peak. See who I’m working with,”

“Was such a fun read,” Val giggles with his mouth full

“Did you really make a guy kill himself?” Velvette questioned “That’s badass behavior,”

“That’s Vee behavior,” Vox smirks

Voe puffs out her chest, feeling bigger “You know people used to call me Vee actually,” she offers

Voe rims the cup with his finger “I know, I read that,”

“Yeah, so I guess I fit right in,”

The Overlords smirk at each other “Sure,” Vox responds

“Hello, this is Voe the Beau now at V Tower full-time!! Hit me up what you guys wanna know?”

wut r the vees like

r they ruthless??

R THEY AWESOME

Voe smirks into the camera “Well, they’re cool. Vox is like hella dramatic lmao and-“ At that moment all the lights in Voe’s room turn off, including her computer and camera “What the fuck?” she gets up and tries flicking on the light switch but that doesn’t work. She stands there not knowing exactly what else to do in this situation, so she sits on her bed, looking around her room in the darkness.

There’s a knock on the door and Vinny enters, she can only tell by the light of the hallway. 

“Mr. Vox wants you to come down to the conference room,”

When she gets there all the Vees are there waiting for her, none looking very pleased, Vox in the middle looking the most angry. Voe sits down and stares at them.

“So what’s all the hubbub?” she asks

“Well,” Vox begins in a passive-aggressive tone “We have two things to discuss with you. One’s good, the other one is not,” his voice distorts on the last word.

“Yes?”

Vox paces around the table “For one,” he takes out a picture of a studio “What do you think of this? We can’t have you keep making videos in your bedroom,”

The studio was large with a giant green screen wall, and various lights, such as a softbox and ring. Pink walls and furry carpet with professional cameras “This is beautiful, I love it!”

“Really? Well we need to talk,” he rips the picture away “Because if we don’t you might have to start making videos on the curb,” he sits next to her “Here’s what needs to change Vera,” Voe grimaces at the use of her human name “You can talk about whatever you want on your lives and videos, but what you cannot do is talk about any of us without talking to us first, okay?”

“Why?”

Vox laughs “Ha ha why? Because,” he turns very serious “We are our own businesses and you keep the business within the diamond,”

“The diamond?”

He nods “Oh wait, we didn’t show you!”

Velvette pulls out another picture, of their sign outside the building. The V’s were now in a diamond shape, one at the top, two at the sides, and one at the bottom.

“Wow, that’s so cool! So I’m one of the team now!” she looks up 

“Sure,” he turns her chin to face him “Are you listening to me? You gonna follow the rules?”

She nods “Yes,” 

“You gonna be a good girl?”

“Yes, Vox. I won’t talk about you guys online without your permission, I swear,”

“Don’t even talk about yourself,”

Voe is quite confused “Hmm?” 

“You’ll sabotage yourself. Just lie baby,” Val says

“I lie all the time,” Vel contributes without looking up from her phone

“Trust me, don’t show any sign of emotion. You show emotion, you show weakness you’re done. And if you’re done, then we’re done. And if we’re done…” He grabs her face with both hands “You and I are gonna have a problem. Okay?”

Voe nods and he lets her face go. “So when can I see my studio?”

“You can see it now,” he offers calmly “By the way, I have you slated for an ad tomorrow. Be here at 5,”

She quirks her head “Here, in the conference room?”

“Yes, Valentino has an outfit for you,”

Val holds up a mesh hot pink bra and thong set “And you’ll have thigh-high boots to match,” he purred

Voe laughs “What exactly am I doing in this ad?”

“You’ll know when you get the script,” Vox sounded frustrated with all of her questions

“And who wrote the script?”

Val raises one of his hands “Guilty!”

Voe widens her eyes “Can’t wait to read that,”

The shoot went swimmingly. She came into the conference room to get her costume to change into it. Valentino was a bit perturbed at her request for privacy from him watching her change, but they fit great along with the thigh-high boots, one black and one pink. She was given a robe that she could wear around the set before and after shooting, Velvette took care of her hair, nails, and makeup. It turns out the ad was for a new line of alcohol that the Vees were releasing called ‘Chemical V’. It had the look, feel, and taste of water…because it was water. They had to go through certain lines over and over again like 

“Wow, I can’t taste a thing! It’s like I’m drinking water!”

“No no no!” Valentino stood and entered the set. It was meant to look like a bar and Voe was the tender. “Why are you saying it like that? Like you’ve never tasted this shit in your life!”

Voe leans over the counter and sighs, smirking. The price of show business. She was wondering if Val was making them do it over and over so he could see her boobs shake when she shook up the drink before pouring it. 

“Do it again!”

After the 50th time, they got it to a place where Val was satisfied with their performances. 

He comes up to Voe behind the counter and cups her chin “Baby, you’re going to have to record the voice lines later okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed 

Vox storms onto the set and snaps at Voe “I need you” he turns to walk away “And put some clothes on,”

When she meets him outside she questions “What’s up?” pushing her hair out of her eyes

“Hello everyone!” he turns to the previously unseen press and puts his arm around her shoulder

Reporters shout at both of them “Are the rumors true? Are you two dating??”

Vox smiles fakely “Well, I wanted to keep it a secret, but yes the rumors are true! I’ve found the one!” he pulls her closer to him and whispers “Smile,” she does “Bigger,” She gives her biggest smile and leans into Vox’s chest.

“How do you feel being in this commercial, it came out a second ago and everyone loves it!!”

“Well it is an honor-“

“Yes, we are so lucky to have her here,”

“Mr. Vox, Mr. Vox! How do you feel about…fuck never mind!”

Vox chuckles “Don’t waste my time,”

The reporter gets shoved to the ground and their cries are heard from being stepped on. Voe furrows her brows but keeps smiling. 

“Aww there was a commercial and I wasn’t invited?” Angel sat on the couch perusing through the channels on the new TV. He takes a sip of his drink and then promptly spits it out when he sees Voe practically naked on the screen.

“Lookin’ for something different tonight,” the man said to her

She turns to face him wearing a mesh pink bra “Oh really? I know what you need. What you need indeed,”

Angel rolls his eyes “Yup Val wrote this for sure,”

Niffty crawled up on the couch with him and stared at the screen “What are you watching?”

“It’s a commercial for a new drink by the Vees,”

“Ooooh, I like the bottle!”

Angel admired Voe’s acting with a shit script “She’s kinda good,” but felt a little sad when he thought of her

“Chemical V, gives your taste buds a break,” came her voice over a shot of the bottle

The commercial is cut over by 666 News and some footage of Vox and Voe, with his arm around her shoulders

“Yes, the rumors are true! I’ve found the one!”

“Oh damn, her and Vox? Never thoughta that combination!” He leans back in his seat before hearing a record scratch from behind him. Alastor had just come down the stairs and that was the first thing he had heard.

“Hi, Alastor!” Niffty waves to the Overlord, who waves back “Look! Look! It’s that girl you talk about, the one that betrayed you! She looks so pretty!”

Alastor sighed, keeping the smile on his face, she did look so pretty, and that was the worst part. he had been lying low inside the hotel ever since the incident. But he could not get Voe out of his head. She disgusted him and made his stomach turn, he hated her. But that wasn’t enough, he wanted to feel nothing, nothing at all for her, the way he felt about Vox. But she kept taking up space inside his brain, more than Lucifer did. 

“You alright Smiles?” Angel asks him

Alastor doesn’t answer and wordlessly walks out of the Hotel, to somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t there.

After dealing with the press, Voe was in the mood for a sandwich. She could’ve had someone go and get it for her, but she decided that it would be wise to take advantage of the ability to walk around before she had to have someone do these things for her. for fear of being swamped. She made her way to the store, buying one and having only a few people stop and ask for her autograph, some asking

“Are you the one on the billboard?” 

And her replying “Why yes, yes I am,” and signing whatever they give her, paper, magazines, boobs.

She brushes her hair out of her eyes and thinks about how everything she had been through for the past month or so was worth it. If this little bit was a taste, then she couldn’t wait for the whole meal. However, when she got lost in her thoughts, she tended to ignore reality, leading her to walk smack into someone and drop her phone on the ground. She immediately bends over without seeing who she bumped into because they were not her current priority.

When she returned from picking up her phone, she saw the same slender figure wearing that same torn-up coat as so long ago. When she looked up at his face, she saw that he wore a grin that was borderline a scowl. Voe puts her hands on her hips and smirks. 

“Well if it isn’t Alastor,” she says dripping with mockery “We have got to stop running into each other like this. Strange though, I didn’t think you’d be brave enough to show your face after everything that’s happened,”

“Hmm, was that in the script? I bet you rehearsed it so many times,”

She smirks “Oh no, that was improv baby,”

“Finally doing something on your own?”

Voe squints at him “Why are you over here?”

“I’m just taking my walks,”

“And it happened to be over here?”

Alastor raises his brows “Yes,”

“So it had nothing to do with me at all?”

“Not everything is about you. You do know that, right? And by the way, you came up to me,”

She scoffs “I did not, I bumped into you,”

“And you decided to talk to me,”

“And I bet that made your day,”

“Hmmm. Not really,” he thinks “You know you’re not actually one of them right? I saw your little commercial-”

Her ears perk up “You saw my commercial?”

“Well, it is on television,”

“You don’t watch television,”

“It was on and I was walking by,”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.” Alastor’s words got more intense, he reorients himself 

Voe steps back, a fat knowing smirk on her face. She looks Alastor up and down, running her tongue over her teeth “Look at that, your face matches your clothes,”

“Are you done here?” He doesn’t acknowledge her comment, though his face is getting warmer

She seems shocked “Am I done here? This is Vee territory. Are you done here?”

“Oh darling, you don’t actually think you’re a ‘Vee’ do you? You’re not even an Overlord. Vox and I have our differences, but I respect him much more than I respect you. And he respects me more than you as well,”

Voe rolls her eyes “Please, Vox is obsessed with you,”

“I know,”

“That’s not really respect,”

“Anyone respect you? Obsessed with you? Or even like you?”

“Loads of sinner like me,”

“You mean their fans? They will turn their backs on you as soon as the Vees throw you out onto the street,”

“I meant my fans. And why would they throw me out on the street?”

He waves her off and laughs “They are not your fans, they’re fans of the Vees, and you’re something new. And trust me, they will throw you out on the street,”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because they don’t like you. They don’t even like each other, my dear.” He taps his temple “I was trying to figure out how to get revenge on you, but I realized, I don’t have to do anything. You’ll get your just desserts my dear, and oh will it be sweet,”

Voe is a bit flustered, by his words and how he looked so devious and evil saying them. She felt that warmth…. everywhere. She swallows “Why even warn me then? Hmm?”

“I’m not warning you, I’m telling you what’s to come,”

“And what? Do you think I’ll come crawling back to you or something?”

“My dear, I don’t want you. I want to destroy you,” he clutches his fist until Voe hears a crack. “So if you do come crawling back to me y̴͉̽o̸̝̕u̶̘̅’̷͎̈́l̸̠̃l̵̳̚ ̴͍͛w̷̻͋i̸͉̿s̵͔̐h̵̻̒ ̸͐͜y̸͚͒o̷͓̿u̸̼͒ ̶̮͒h̷̹͂a̶̤̋d̴̨̅n̷̯͌’̷̬͐t̸̝̎,” he grins a terrible, evil grin that sends shivers down Voe’s spine. In a good way. What was wrong with her? “Goodbye, my dear. Have a great time being…whatever you are,” he promptly turns and walks away.

[zaksdolls]

WIP Unicorn Bella

Some WIPs of the recent unicorn Rainbow High commission. For full behind the scenes, you can visit my Patreon. /selfpromotion

Started off with a Pacific Coast Bella Parker. Funny how after awhile eyeless dolls are no longer off putting.

Time for unicorn horn making with Apoxie Sculpt:

(featuring my own Bella as a model)

Commissioner felt it was too long so it was cut down a bit:

Starting the face up with watercolor pencils:

Began adding thinned acrylic paint and some light blushing:

But it turned out I hated the eye makeup. Not so much the colors, but the order in which they were layered. So I decided to wipe it all off and start over.

But first, I wanted to test out reinserting the eyes and see how much damage that would cause:

Surprisingly, not that much! Felt better about the durability of the paint.

I also decided to smooth and round out the eyes a bit in hopes it would facilitate reinsertion next time:

Yeah?

Anyway, back to the faceup:

I planned (and tried) just using soft/ chalk pastels for the gradient effect, but it was going to take forever and use up too many precious MSC layers which would probably end up in cracking around the eyes. So airbrush times:

Not bad so far.

At this point, the eye makeup was pretty much finished so I decided to reninsert the eyes at this time and mask them:

The problem isn't so much the eyes themselves, but the eyelashes which get in the way.

Pique photography skillz:

And then I thought, "Huh, I sure am close to finishing this doll up. But you know what I should do? I should try to do a simple soft gradient to her inner eyebrows!":

"Oh, that's not working. The airbrush isn't enough. I'll lightly sand and buff the inner brows first."

"I can fix this."

"I swear I can fix this."

Anyway, lots of tears and screaming were involved.

But then, I had a little mishap with some rubbing alcohol right at the end and some of the paint around the horn bubbled up a bit. Can't be seen too well in photos but could definitely be seen and felt in person:

More tears and screaming and flipping of tables.

At this point I was using the absolute last drops of custom mixed paint. Could absolutely not afford anymore mistakes.

And thankfully there weren't!

Finished it off with a light dusting of glitter:

And that's how you repaint a Rainbow High doll.* 🙃

------

*not an actual tutorial

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

AO3 Fics (3) masterlist

part one, part two

a kingdom of hearts (but not of love) (ao3) - orphan_account luke/ashton M, 12k

Summary: luke’s a prince. well, a prince who loves to wear dresses and loves girly things. however, he feels though he’s missing that special someone in his life. although it may just change when he meets a special prince named ashton.

or the one where luke’s basically a princess, ashton is his soulmate, and things get in their fucking way before they fall in love.

all i want (ao3) - lourrygum michael/luke E, 15k

Summary: Luke is a camboy and Michael has to have normal conversations with him like he didn’t watch him come untouched just last night

Or, Lush isn’t Luke’s only place of employment, Calum is falling in love with the curly haired dork that comes in to his coffee shop on a daily basis and Michael’s going to stop watching Luke’s videos soon, he swears.

Beginnings (ao3) - thenewbrokenscene michael/luke M, 45k

Summary: [College/University AU] Michael Clifford was a sophomore transfer student, trapped living in the dorms again after a technicality dropped him back down to freshman status. He had requested a single room, determined to focus on his school work, get out of university housing as quickly as possible, and start his real life, but of course, on August 1st he received the obligatory “Get to know your new roommate this summer! You can contact Luke Hemmings, freshman student, at his school email…” message in his inbox.

Whatever. Let’s just get this year over with.

be your teenage dream tonight (ao3) - burningthefutures luke/ashton E, 8k

Summary: Ashton, a photographer living in NYC, finds himself entranced when he sets his eyes on Luke Hemmings, a famous model, at a party.

can’t help falling in love with you (ao3) - prettyluke (parting_ways) luke/ashton T, 50k

Summary: Luke shows up in Britain after 25 years right in time for World War Two to start, and Ashton has been waiting for someone to yank him from his melancholy since Christmas of 1914.

come alive and bring the thunder (ao3) - merlypops michael/luke, past luke/ashton E, 36k

Summary: Prince Luke of the Faeries is forced to marry King Michael after a War between kingdoms threatens to tear their lives apart… and maybe Luke and Michael fall in love too. Maybe.

Coy Fish - @daydadahlias​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) calum/ashton E, 19k

Summary: “Please don’t fuck our yoga instructor.” Michael massages his forehead, eyes squinting shut. “We’ll lose our discount.”

But that certainly won’t keep Calum from trying.

craving something sweeter (ao3) - toddamyanderson luke/calum T, 10k

Summary: “Y’know, it was either the plushies, or the cute guy sitting on his roof drinking lemonade. Surprisingly enough, you won.” Calum’s voice is quiet, but Luke can still hear the coy smile in his voice. Hear, because Luke is still looking down at the fairy floss, trying to hide his pleased grin.

“Damn.” Luke tames his wild grin into a more reasonable smile so he can face Calum. “I feel like the plushies deserve more credit.“

Fine Print - @daydadahlias​​ (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, past luke/calum E, 61k

Summary: If Michael says Ashton Irwin will be a good bodyguard then sure, Luke will put his money on Ashton being a good bodyguard. Besides, all Luke needs is a shadow. So what if he doesn’t like him?

Who ever cared about liking their shadow anyway?

or the one where Luke is a heartbroken solo artist who can’t sleep and Ashton is his less-than-enthusiastic bodyguard

go for miles (ao3) - strxngersagain luke/calum, michael/ashton G, 11k

Summary: When Calum had bought tickets to Glastonbury Festival with his ex nearly a full year ago, he never imagined he would have ended up going alone. The very messy breakup of a nearly-three-year relationship pushed any and all thoughts of future-plans to the back of his mind. He had almost entirely forgotten about the tickets tucked into an envelope, if he was being honest with himself. It wasn’t until an email dropped into his inbox with the subject: ‘We can’t wait to see you!’, reminding him that oh shit, they had bought tickets together and oh shit, that’s in like two weeks.

He spent the better part of the afternoon sitting on the living room floor trying to figure out what to do with his ticket. It was too late for him to transfer it to someone else, he couldn’t sell it because it had his name printed on it, and he didn’t really want to lose out on the £300 he spent on the damn thing by just not going. So, he decided then and there that he would go alone. Ex-boyfriend be damned, he’d have a great time even if he was by himself.

hello, hello (ao3) - bellawritess luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 30k

Summary: For one long, blinking minute, Luke stares at Ashton and wonders if he’s hallucinating. Because that’s definitely Ashton. That’s Ashton Irwin, his former best friend from Sunny Days, the show they co-starred on as children.

But it’s also definitely Ashton Fletcher, professional film actor worth many millions, possibly hundreds of millions, of dollars, standing on his doorstep, wind ruffling his hair.

Jumping before the Gunshot has Gone Off (ao3) - tigerlily_sunshine michael/luke, calum/ashton, luke/louis E, 128k

Summary: (In which Michael’s hated Luke since they met, and Luke’s hated him back—except, somehow, they can’t stop having sex with one another. To make matters worse, Luke is dumb enough to go and fall in love with the man who hates him.)

KawaiiCalPal (ao3) - TheLarryDiaries michael/calum, luke/ashton M, 25k

Summary: Calum is an adorable YouTuber known as KawaiiCalPal. He’s most known for his oversized sweaters and matching flower crowns. Also, he’s in love with the world famous punk rock band, Swallow the Goldfish. But more accurately, the lead guitarist, Michael Clifford.

Luke, Ashton, and Michael are the three band members of Swallow the Goldfish. They all happen to be jelly beans, Calum’s name for his subscribers. It’s also quite obvious that Michael believes Calum is his ‘soulmate’. It’s also remarkable as Calum is very open with his homosexuality, and love for Michael.

It really started when Calum had the opportunity to interview the band for a video.

Le Chatelier’s Principle (ao3) - LyricalPary (hoseoky) luke/ashton, michael/calum E, 54k

Summary: Ever since being promoted to head waiter, Luke had had one problem that came in the form of a six foot, curly-headed, hazel eyed demon. And by demon, he meant his frustratingly stubborn, unfairly attractive co-worker, Ashton Irwin.

Playing With Chemistry (ao3) - fourdrunksluts michael/ashton, luke/calum E, 17k

Summary: It’s the busiest week of the year at the escape room Ashton manages, and it’s hard enough without Michael Clifford tempting him at every turn.

See the World Hanging Upside Down (ao3) - tigerlily_sunshine ot4, michael/luke/calum, luke/ashton M, 117k

Summary: “You should go out with me tonight,” says Luke, and that’s not what Ashton expected at all.

Ashton’s stomach jumps to his throat. He feels a little faint, and he holds his breath. He’s a little confused. He could have sworn Luke was in a relationship with either Calum or Michael—he’s still not entirely sure exactly which one Luke actually goes home to—but it sounds an awfully lot like Luke’s asking Ashton out on a date.

It’s a miracle, really, that he doesn’t humiliate himself before Luke’s done talking, because the next few words that fall from Luke’s mouth make it entirely clear it’s not a date.

“I’ve been talking you up to Mikey and Cal for ages, and they’re dying to meet you.”

(In which Ashton pines after Luke, who is already in a relationship, and Luke really wants Ashton to meet Michael and Calum.)

Stand Again (ao3) - crash-queen aka stelleshine (stelleshine) luke/calum, michael/luke, jack/luke, michael/ashton E, 69k

Summary: The promise of a good pie brings Calum into Luke’s bakery one day, and Luke finds more than just a new customer.

the empty white (ao3) - asymmetric ot4 E, 33k

Summary: (People all over the world start vanishing into thin air. Calum is one of them.)

there’s no need to run and hide (when the world leaves a scar) (ao3) -haveufoundwhaturlookingfor luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 10k

Summary: Luke is a new intern, and he gets along with pretty much everyone he works with. Well, everyone except for Ashton Irwin. Ashton is cold, and doesn’t give him the time of day. Certain events keep on bringing the two together whether they like it or not, and eventually, Luke finds out why Ashton is so cold.

we’ve got time on our side (ao3) - fannyann luke/calum, calum/liam E, 57k

Summary: Calum meets Luke in the midst of buying new underwear. Two tours and a lot of heartache later, they finally get it right.