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unicyclehippo · 1 year

Note

Hmmm...how about a one word prompt of...Skin?

for @possibilistfanfiction i hope it makes u laugh

two

every week, superion talks to beatrice late tuesday night. at the end of every call, she asks to speak to you and you let her.

are you struggling with anything? she’ll ask, or what has your week been like? or, how are you, ava? she doesn’t ask that one often because it makes you hang up on her fast. like. what the fuck are you supposed to do? she says your name nicely, makes it sound like she wants to know about you, not the halo, and yeah. it’s a bit much to deal with.

‘we went to the thrift shop,’ you tell her week two, ‘and spent half the money you sent us on clothes. beatrice got new pyjamas.’ from the kitchen, beatrice sends you a betrayed look. you wave at her. you’re not going to tell superion that you picked out boxers for her—black, comfortable—and that you think you’re going to have a heart attack every night because beatrice has surprisingly buff legs, toned, and the first time she came out of the bathroom in boxers you had to put your hands under your head, pin them down with your heavy fucking skull so you didn’t touch her legs, her knees. how knees could be sweet, you have no fucking clue, but beatrice’s knees are sweet, soft in repose and then sharp and strong when she moves and. yeah. anyway.

‘i’ve never bought clothes before,’ you tell superion, and beatrice looks startled and a little sad and you laugh because it’s funny, actually, not sad. ‘i stole the hottest dress from this rich lady’s house—um, borrowed, i mean. they don’t really have high fashion here but i picked up some cute stuff. right, bea?’ beatrice ducks her head. ‘she says yes and also wants to know if spending this money means i’m your sugar baby now. or the pope’s. ow! okay, she didn’t say that but she did throw a pen at me. i’m your halobearer, that’s so rude!’

‘phase through it next time,’ beatrice suggests, and almost smiles when you flip her off.

‘hello, ava. is there anything you wish to talk about tonight?’

you have been thinking of things to say all week that’ll make superion hang up on you and so, when you pluck the phone out of beatrice’s hand, you’re grinning. she picks up on your energy and excuses herself to the bathroom.

‘so much. where to start? bea has been kicking my ass in training. i think she’s enjoying it. is that allowed? i thought nuns were supposed to not enjoy things.’

‘i’m sure any and all enjoyment pertains to the pleasure all instructors feel when their student shows improvement.’

‘no,’ you muse. beatrice is for sure eavesdropping so you raise your voice a little and say, ‘i think she’s a sadist.’

the bathroom door slides open half an inch, just enough for beatrice to shoot a forbidding look out at you. it’s undermined by the way some of her hair hangs free of her bun and the toothpaste smeared at the corner of her mouth and she’s brushing neatly and you want so badly to squash up next to her and clean your teeth there with her, in your stupidly small bathroom, so you forget all your nun jokes you’ve prepared and say,

‘all good here, supes. catch you next week,’ and hang up on her.

beatrice is in boxers that show off her knees. her sleep shirt is tucked into the waistband of her boxers, which is so endearing you think you might explode. you press your fingers to her hip and nudge her away from the sink so you can get in there and wet your brush. you do the same thing every night. she ought to know by now. she does know by now. you think she wants you to touch her, to lay your hand gently on her hip and make her space into your space. the toothpaste is minty and froths up as you brush enthusiastically. beatrice swishes her mouthwash. puts her hand on your wrist. you obediently shuffle away from the sink so she can spit neatly into it.

‘short conversation with mother superion tonight.’

you shrug. ‘tired, i guess.’ it’s half true. you would have happily made a nuisance of yourself but tonight, you just want to brush your teeth next to beatrice and go to bed.

‘am i pushing you too hard?’

you consider the question. tuck your hair behind your ears so it doesn’t get in the way when you bend, spit into the sink too, like beatrice did. rinse. wash your brush, strick it into the polka dot toothbrush holder on the counter.

‘i want to learn. i’ll do whatever i have to do.’ beatrice eyes you like you’ve said something really interesting, which is worrisome because you don’t know what about that was interesting. ‘bedtime. wanna be little spoon tonight?’

beatrice goes pink at the offer and you can’t resist lifting a hand to her cheek, to touch it. she doesn’t pull away, but her eyes go wide.

‘sorry.’

‘no, sorry,’ you say almost immediately. ‘um. i’ll check the front door is locked.’ you run out of the bathroom, through to the kitchen and the front door. thunk your head hard against the wood and swear under your breath. blindly reach for the door handle. turn it gently. it hits the lock and you release it. you stand there for a few long minutes, hearing the sounds of the bedsheets and beatrice shuffling and the click of the lamp turning off and then the apartment is dark and still and there’s a longing right on the centre of your tongue, dry and empty like a wafer sucking the moisture from your mouth, and you want to pick up the phone and tell superion, i want to live. i don’t want beatrice to teach me how to fight, i don’t want you to know my name, i want this to be real. a home in the mountains and a girl who wants me to touch her.

beatrice pretends to be asleep when you finally join her, crawling into bed and pulling the sheets up to your shoulders. you’re always careful about touching her, when and where you do it, and tonight is no exception.

‘bea?’ you whisper.

‘yes, ava?’

‘can i –‘ you reach over. hover your hand over her forearm.

beatrice shuffles in the bed. the lamps in the street outside are dim and they have covers that keep the light shining down to the street instead of filling the sky. it’s not enough to see beatrice by. you light the halo—the tiniest bit—and her expression goes awed and nervous all at once.

‘you shouldn’t.’

touch her? use the halo?

‘i want to. feels good.’ beatrice breaths out. she won’t say it, and won’t ask you, but when you move your hand to hover over her wrist, sidle close enough to hold her, she doesn’t stop you. ‘g’dnight, bea.’

‘goodnight, ava. sleep well.’

‘good evening, ava. i trust you are well?’

‘we got jobs!’

‘beatrice informed me.’

‘of course she did,’ you roll your eyes. catch sight of the brim of the pink cowboy hat still squashed onto your head you had been given tonight as a prize, the only thing you had wanted. it's a little small, maybe made for a kid, but whatever. ‘did she tell you it’s at a bar? she doesn’t drink but she’s killing it at the books. i don’t have the same hang ups – hans is teaching me everything about being a great bartender and it involves a lot of alcohol. i can – he’s german and i drunk him under the table. i think the halo helped. do you – can the halo heal being drunk, do you think? did i cheat? maybe i should give him this hat back.’

‘i will ask you not to test the limits of the halo in this manner.’

‘i know, i know, control the halo, don’t draw attention, blah blah blah—bea already gave me the speech. i’m being safe. it was just some fun, mother,’ you tease, feeling loose and good and happy. ‘the hat suits me, though. it’s pink.’

superion’s smile bleeds into her voice. you grin, imagining it. a smile on that stern face. that’s the best, that’s one of the things you love the most, making people smile, making people laugh, especially when you have to find the right way to come at it. this feels almost too easy? you’re just…telling her about your day and your job and the hat you won but you know that she’s smiling and you’re a little drunk so you decide not to think about whether she likes you or is showing some softer side of herself for your benefit and just enjoy it.

‘you are entitled to some fun, ava.’

‘tell bea that. and her too. she can have fun too. she doesn’t have to drink, just relax a tiny bit. right?’

‘sister beatrice will attend her duty as she sees fit, you know that. and,’ she adds dryly, ‘i believe she is more likely to listen to you when it comes to relaxation.’

‘what you’re saying is i need to convince her. i need to tempt her.’

superion sighs. ‘drink some water, please, ava. look after yourself. and beatrice.’

‘yeah, always.’

there’s a girl who comes to your bar to flirt with you specifically. you know that because she told you, because she pressed her teeth to the pink of her lip and pressed against the hardwood bar, leaning over it to give you a good—really good—view of her chest and for a second you’d forgotten that there was anyone else in the bar when she looked at you so intently. and she told you.

‘you know i’ve been flirting with you, right?’

‘you? no way, this is a huge surprise,’ you’d teased, because she’s been super unsubtle.

the other night, she’d let the condensation from her beer bottle drip onto her chest and asked so sweetly for a napkin and laughed when you went tongue-tied and clumsy, dropping the cocktail shaker. which was fine because it was empty but it had clanged on the stone floor and hans had looked over with this stupidly knowing grin and only laughed when you flipped him off.

‘sometimes girls don’t know,’ she’d shrugged. ‘and i don’t like to waste my time. you like girls?’

you spin the beer bottle in your hand, because it’s a fun trick and because it makes girls look at your hands. dani is no exception. you haven’t said it out loud before but you want to. should you wait for a special moment? or does the moment become special when you say it?

‘girls are incredible,’ is what you end up saying. it’s not that you’re scared, it’s just that beatrice isn’t here and some part of you kind of expected to say it to her first, the way she’d shared that with you.

dani doesn’t take it as a cop out, thank god. she grins, big and bold, and tosses her hair back over her shoulder. ‘yeah. incredible. let me take you out, ava—dinner, dancing, drinks. what do you say?’

you should say no. for multiple reasons, but chief among them the fact that when dani used her water on her tits trick, you’d thought about beatrice and what her reaction would be if you tried it on her. probably, it’s a dick move to think about another girl when one is being so kind as to show you her tits. but. beatrice is a nun and dani is not. super not. she’s portuguese and taller than you—most people are, to be fair—and you like that the bar is lifted over where the customers sit so she has to look up at you, but you also like looking up at her and the way she crowds you a little, smirks down at you when you sit a little sluttily on the barstool next to her, hand on her knee. she wears, like, a dozen silver rings and her earrings dangle and glitter when she shakes her head, which she does when you make her laugh really hard, and when you think about kissing her it’s, yeah. good. it makes you a little tongue-tied and you stumble over your words and dani looks at you like she knows what you were thinking about which is. yeah. good.

you say yes.

'—compromising our mission here, compromising the halo, compromising herself—'

'whoa! where does the halo come into this? i'm not whipping my top off for her, it's a date.'

beatrice glares at you. she's standing tall and straight—well, rigid—and with the dark clouds gathering outside the window you're a little worried god will mistake her for a lightning rod, but mostly you're worried that you've actually hurt her by agreeing to go on this date. but then she goes and says,

'this is a stupid risk, you can't just - just--'

and you hate being called stupid so instead of trying to calm her down, you rise up to meet her. 'just what? say yes when a girl asks me out?'

'yes!'

'why not?' beatrice glares over your head, unable to meet your eyes. 'give me the phone.'

'what? no!'

'yes, give me the phone.'

'i'm still debriefing mother s—'

'give me the phone or i'll debrief on my date,' you tell her, and you can feel the anger and spite spitting on your tongue and sparking in your eyes. now she does meet your eyes; hers are black with fury, her jaw tense, and you're doubly pissed because you'd said yes to the date because dani is hot and has this quick flirty humour and because she looked at you like she could eat you up and it's a hell of a feeling to be on the receiving end of a look like that, but beatrice... beatrice is pissed and you're nearly positive it isn't because of the mission, and god, whatever your rules are about thinking nuns are hot, she looks hot with her jaw clenched and the muscles of her neck and shoulders tense like she's thinking about keeping you from the door by whatever means necessary. but she is a nun and you're not an asshole, or entirely selfish, so you said yes to dani because if you can't kiss the girl you like, you should be able to kiss a girl you like. right?

beatrice flicks a look over your outfit—high-waisted jeans, a shirt that shrunk in the one laundry load you did so now it shows off a decent strip of belly, and a blue sweater tied around your waist that you'd found over the back of the couch, in case it ends up raining—and she scowls.

'fine. fine.'

she grabs your wrist. your skin sears where she touches you—god, is this allowed? is this allowed? i'm gonna be thinking about this tonight in my alone time, is this allowed, dude?—and you open your hand, you'll take whatever she'll give you. you're so startled by her hand on you that you forget to be angry. if she weren't a nun, if she were a little more open, if she liked you the way you like her...

she drops the phone into your hand. it’s heavy and you nearly drop it, focused on—god forgive you, or better yet, mind your own fucking business dude—her. ask me out. ask me on a date. look at me like you want to push me against the brick wall outside where we work together and kiss me. she must see some of that in your eyes because she drags in a shaky breath and all the anger leaves her. she doesn’t move away. you look at her lips.

‘ava…’

your thumb flickers to mute the phone. ‘tell me not to go.’

beatrice huffs. ‘you want to.’

‘i’ll stay. i won’t go. if you ask.’

her hand goes to your hip. you want to know how much of her hand can fit there, on your skin where your top rides up. but she doesn’t touch you, even though you’re aching for it, even though she can see that you’re aching for it. it’s like there’s an invisible barrier that blocks her from moving those last few centimetres.

‘i’m taking a shift tonight,’ she says. ‘hans is sick.’

‘oh.’

‘i won’t be home. after. i’ll be back tomorrow,’ she says hurriedly, before your heart can totally break. ‘but not tonight.’

‘i’m not bringing her home. you know that, right?’

‘it would be fine if you did,’ beatrice lies, and pushes past you into the kitchen to collect her things.

you let her go. lift the phone to your ear.

‘hey. what’s the company policy on halobearers going out with girls? also, like, your personal policy. not that it fucking matters, i’m gonna do it anyway, but i suppose i’m curious. lesbians…thoughts?’

beatrice slams the front door behind her.

superion doesn't talk straight away—ha. you hear a chair dragging on stone and then a creak as she sits.

'well,' she says, and you forget about beatrice as much as you can because superion doesn't sound angry or disgusted. only considering. and this question isn’t totally about beatrice, it’s about you too, and you don’t care what superion thinks of you, you don’t. but. 'there is nothing written to specifically bar halobearers from dating girls.' nuns, on the other hand, she doesn't say but you hear it loud and clear. 'as for my personal policies... they revolve around, and are cemented in, caring for and protecting my order and my girls.’

‘what kind of protection?’

‘physical and emotional strength is paramount, as you know. if you are being safe, and if it is something that will make you happy, then i have no reason to forbid it.’

you think on that for a minute. then, in a small voice you don’t recognise, you ask her, ‘are you excited for me? can you be excited for me?’ tears sting your eyes and the back of your throat prickles with heat like you’ve drunk hot sauce again, or whiskey, and before superion can say anything, you break in again with, ‘i’m going to be late,’ kind of brusquely. ‘bye.’

after dinner and dancing and drinks, all the things she had promised, dani offers to walk you home.

you lean back against a lamppost and wind your fingers into the lapels of her lilac blazer and tug her forward, kiss her eagerly. the streetlight is almost the same warm gold as the halo, which is snug and silent between your shoulders. dani tastes like coffee, from her espresso martini. she kisses you, bold and unafraid. you’ve thought a couple times tonight about going home with her and you think about it again now, about letting her walk you home, about holding her hand as you let her into the apartment and pushing the same hand down the front of your jeans, into the underwear you bought new for precisely this reason, to where you’re slick between your legs and wanting but–

‘this was fun,’ you tell her, panting just a little.

she groans. kisses your jaw, your neck. fuck. ‘why does it sound like you’re saying goodnight?’

‘i - well - you’re making it fucking hard -’ you say, and laugh, and your stomach twists a little because if you had said that to bea she would press her lips together and shake her head and the way her laugh escapes as a huff makes you feel like you could walk over oceans, shoot up into the fucking sky. you make that joke in front of dani and she laughs, sure, but then half a second later her teeth are on your skin over your pulse and neither of you are thinking about the joke. which is fair. but while you want dani to touch you, she doesn’t make you feel like you can take on the world. she kiss you again. puts her hands on your waist, thumbs sliding up to brush over your belly. hands sliding up until her thumbs are dipping beneath your shirt, fingers wrapping around your hips, and you feel fucking incredible, delicate and wanted and hot. but.

‘dani, fuck -’

‘yeah, i know, saying goodnight.’ she sounds pretty wrecked too, which is a huge boost to your self-esteem because all you’re doing is clinging to her but apparently that’s fine. ‘you’re sure i can’t walk you to your door?’

‘if you walked me back, i’d take you upstairs,’ you tell her, and put a hand to her chest, push her gently away. ‘which - i had a lot of fun, but i can’t.’

dani nods. ‘text me when you get home though.’

‘of course, yeah.’

she takes a step back. out of the halo of the streetlight. you rake your eyes over her—she turned up in matching lilac blazer and slacks with this tiny white crop under the blazer and perfectly white sneakers, a few silver necklaces—and it reminds you a little of seeing doctor salvius for the first time, honestly, in her full pantsuit moment, and maybe you have a thing for women who look like they know what the fuck they want and how to get it.

‘fuck.’

‘baby, i’m trying.’

you flip her off and push away from the lamppost. ‘thanks for tonight. i had a really good time.’

she smiles and watches you leave. you look back when you reach the end of the road and she’s still there, waves.

by the time you get into the apartment, you’re considerably more drunk than you’d felt when you left the bar. you get the door unlocked, kick it closed behind you, and text dani as you struggle out of your jeans, kicking them vaguely in the direction of the wardrobe.

made it home thx for tonight

she doesn’t answer immediately. which is fair, she was drunk too and maybe she went back into the bar or whatever and you don’t really care but beatrice isn’t home and the apartment is quiet and cold and you’re standing pantless in the middle of the room and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut when you realise that you’re sad. it’s not fair. it’s not fair.

the phone is hidden away under a loose floorboard, because of course it is. you hear the wood snap as you peel it up. you’re alive and super strong and drunk and it's fine, the phone shouldn't be hidden away anyway, you shouldn't be hidden away. you pull it out, call the only number programmed into this stupid, bulky phone.

‘beatrice?’

‘no, it’s me.’

‘ah, ava. hello.’

you climb to your knees, push onto your feet. she sounds fine that you’ve called, totally unbothered. ‘i’m not struggling,’ you tell her.

‘i’m glad to hear it.’

‘i’m fine.’

she’s quiet. you think about her towering over you. i know you killed yourself. you are a coward. you think about her standing in front of you, putting herself between you and harm. you are worthy. you are.

‘i’m fine,’ you say again, anger hot on your tongue, hot down your spine. ‘i’ve been fine this whole fucking time but you keep asking so, so if you don’t believe me, let me tell you and maybe you’ll listen this time. i am fine. i’m not struggling. we’re hiding away from the fight and camila is in danger all the time and mary is gone and you - you talk to me but you don’t know me! you don’t know anything about me, and i know you don’t because you still think i’m going to run, or kill myself, but i never did, i never did and i won’t so stop asking me about my fucking life.’

‘ava,’

‘and stop saying my name! scolding me? poor crippled girl out on the streets—i have a job! i have friends! i’m really not fucking interested in what you think of me! fuck. you’re all the same. you nuns…you think b-because i’m not on my knees, crying and praying that i’m not grateful? i died! i’m alive! i’m grateful. you want me to thank you? you w-want me to learn how to be perfect from bea so that i’m worthy of the halo? so you don’t decide you’ve had enough of me? lighten the fucking burden of me? fuck perfection, fuck worthiness, fuck your god, and fuck your halo!’ you yell into the phone. anger stings your lungs; there’s not enough space around it for all the air you need.

‘breathe, ava.’ superion’s voice is muffled by distance and the crackling of the phone line and the dizzy swirl of your head. ‘ava,’ she says more sharply. ‘breathe.’

you breathe in.

‘good. again.’

you breathe in again, til your chest hurts with it. stumble over to the couch and curl into the arm of it, hand on your chest, feeling the trembling of your muscles, the desperation of your body to breathe, to live.

superion can hear when you settle a little. ‘i am sorry. my questions have never been about doubt.’ you scoff. ‘if you had come to the OCS another way, i would have asked you these things. i would have taken the time to know you. it is not doubt, ava.’

‘then what the fuck is it?’

‘it is care.’

‘fuck you.’

‘ava,’

‘no! fuck you. you’re not my mother.’ you want to cry. you want your scars back. you want anything that tells you you’ve been wanted even once, even if it’s that—a sick, dreamy, drowning memory of a twisting road by the ocean, and scars where a parade of people worked to save your life. your skin is blemish free. ‘i had a mother.’ you pick yourself up from the couch. slam through the kitchen cupboards until you find the vodka hans gifted you. you pour a shot into a stripey mug, clear liquid sloshing onto the tabletop. ‘i had a mother and she died and you’re not her. and the nun who cared for me killed me twice, you know. so. fuck.’ you throw back the shot. it stings. ‘you’re not my mother and i hate your stupid god and you don’t get to care about me. i don’t care. i don’t care. it’s not fair. my mum would—i could’ve told her, i could’ve come home to her. hey mum, i went on a date with a girl tonight and it was really nice. but i can’t tell her because she’s dead and you’re a shitty substitute.’

you drink again. and then—because the anger doesn’t feel as good as you hoped it would and doesn’t do anything about the sadness unspooling in your stomach, glossy and tangled like the tape out of a cassette—you twist the cap back onto the vodka and set it back into the cupboard.

superion says, ‘i’m not your mother. that’s true. but i am here to listen to you, and guide you. and i was unduly harsh on you but there is no doubt in my mind or my heart that you are worthy, not only of the halo but of the extraordinary life you will lead. and i am sorry that you cannot kiss someone and go home and call your mother.’

you’re standing, still pantless, in the kitchen and superion is being nice to you when you’ve just yelled at her more than you’ve yelled at anyone, ever. you sniffle. ‘a girl. kiss a girl and call my mother.’

‘yes. a girl.’

‘that’s important.’

‘i understand.’

‘it’s scary,’ you admit. ‘but it’s really awesome. and - and i don’t want to give any time to people and the church who think it’s a sin, i really don’t. because there are people who think - who have been made to think that it is a sin, that they’re bad and they’re not. they’re really wonderful, they’re beautiful and incredible and good. and i know you have faith in something, i don’t want - i don’t want to disrespect that - you love god and that’s cool or whatever. but if god has a plan for me, it’s shitty and it hurt and it’s not fair and i don’t want - i don’t believe in anything that cruel, i’m not going to and you can’t make me.’ you’re really tired all of a sudden. and very drunk. ‘i want my mum. do you have - you can talk to the pope, right? can he talk to god for me? can he make sure my mum is happy? i don’t believe but i think she did. can you - can you tell me if she’s happy? do you think she’d be proud of me?’

superion’s voice is thick with something you are too drunk to decipher. ‘yes, ava. she would.’ you feel turned inside out. like she’s touching raw, exposed nerves when she says, ‘thank you for talking to me.’

‘had to get drunk ‘n’ sad to do it. hooray.’

‘please drink some water and ensure the door is locked.’

‘’kay.’ you shuffle around to lock the door. pour a glass of water. it spills a little down your front but, whatever, it’s just water. ‘okay,’ you say again when you’re done. ‘sorry. for yelling.’

‘you are forgiven. and ava… you are fine. you are good. you do not believe, but i do, that God has made you in His image.’

‘wow. god’s really hot, huh? that’s cool.’

you sleep. beatrice is home when you wake up, sitting at the kitchen table with a book, a bowl of cut-up fruit, and a croissant. you don’t have a headache—thanks, halo—but your mouth is dry like you’ve eaten a mouthful of fucking sand and when you stumble out of bed to dunk your head in the kitchen sink, drinking straight from the table, she watches you, hawk-eyed.

it’s only when you stand, wipe your chin with your wrist, and flop into the chair opposite beatrice, stealing a piece of her fruit, that you realise you are pantless. without pants.

the tips of beatrice’s ears are red. her jaw is tight. ‘please put your pants away when you take them off,’ she says, and turns the page of her book even though you’re pretty sure she wasn’t done reading the last one.

‘uh. yeah. i will.’

her finger taps against the spine of the book. ‘did you - was it fun?’

‘yeah.’

‘good. i’m glad.’ beatrice pushes the croissant over to you. ‘pain au chocolat,’ she says, and you realise that the croissant isn’t hers, it’s yours, she bought it for you because she never buys herself chocolate croissants. you think of her standing in the beautiful, warm bakery after a stupid long shift and buying you a pastry to eat after you went on a date with another woman and she watches your hands for a while as you split the croissant, which flakes between your fingers, smears buttery goodness everywhere. you break off a tiny bit and hold it out to her. ‘it’s for you,’ she says, shakes her head.

‘try it.’

she gives in. she gives in, beautiful when she does it. hungry. takes the little piece and pops it between her lips, which curl upwards, pastry melting, chocolate melting on her tongue. there’s a bit of pastry on her lip and the whole room is full of light.

#tagging my stories #prompt fill #avatrice #warrior nun #i would kill n die for ava i hope u know that #mother superion

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almost-a-class-act · 5 months

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hi I saw your recent post in the tag, so um are you taking Givenson prompts? bc if you are can I request a "9. . .out of fear" from that "things you said" list please? I hope that's okay!

Hello! Thanks for the request! I am just now finding my way in the Justified fandom so I'm excited to hear from new pals.

The prompt was: "Things you said out of fear"

It’s the second hat Raylan has lost to a bullet, an “if I had a nickel” sort of situation if ever there was one – except that he’d been able to play down the first one pretty effectively on account of no one currently alive in Harlan County having been there to see it except Loretta.

The second time, he isn’t so lucky.

The sequence of events, as described to him afterward – they’re somewhat muddled in his own recollection, for obvious reasons – are as follows. The bullet passes through his hat, not quite clean, grazing his head. Raylan goes down, as does the fellow who took the shot (cheap, through a window while Raylan stood on the porch), because taking the shot had given him away and Tim needs less than that to punch a ticket at four hundred meters.

By the time he sits up, people are running, which is a relief because it means the situation is going to be handled by someone other than him. Getting shot in the head is no less disorienting than it had been the first time, the sort of thing where you’re scared to touch it in case it’s so much worse than you think. Tim is running, too, and he hurtles up onto the porch, one knee coming down hard on the wood so that he can hunch in and comb away the hair that’s hiding the wound spilling blood down Raylan’s face.

“Think you’re gonna live?” Tim asks, tone as even as it always is, even as his fingertips press into Raylan’s scalp, checking for himself.

“For my sins,” Raylan replies. “Ouch. Do you mind?”

“Looks okay,” Tim says, ignoring him. “Some stitches, maybe.”

Everything is a churn around them, and Raylan patiently lets an EMT with much gentler hands deal with the wound while Tim leaves the porch to congregate in a group with Art and Rachel, within eyesight. Once the bandage is in place, Raylan figures he’s got the okay to do the paperwork on this one tomorrow, and catches Tim’s eye.

They’re only just outside of Lexington, which means the drive isn’t the long slog from Harlan County, and they’re home in twenty minutes. Raylan has a hunch that Tim has a rant locked and loaded, but on the drive all he engages in is a smattering of shop talk – not uncommon for them, to be fair.

In the apartment, Raylan makes his way in the dark to the kitchen, searching out bourbon to cure what ails him. He can see Tim through the doorway to the living room out of the corner of his eye, yanking the curtains across, stopping to scratch the cat behind the ears.

Tim used to closed the curtains on Raylan’s bedroom window every time he came by, too. There aren’t any sightlines to worry about in the apartment they live in now, but it seems to be a force of habit anyway.

And then the light comes on, and Tim is leaning in the kitchen doorway.

“Shoot,” Raylan says, holding up the bottle mutely to ask if Tim wants a pour. He shakes his head.

“Don’t ask me to cover you and then do dumbass shit like stand out in the open.”

“I wasn’t doing dumbass shit,” Raylan says patiently.

“You could teach a college course in doing dumbass shit. Do you think if I wanted to live with anyone else, I’d be living with you?” Tim demands. “You use my mouthwash and you keep letting the cat out.”

“By accident.”

“The circumstances of the situation don’t matter. The cat is still outside at the end.”

Raylan is not going to smile, because Tim is clearly very serious about this, but sometimes the things that come out of Tim’s mouth are very… well, Tim. “Are you telling me not to get myself killed because I’m your last resort?”

“I’m telling you not to get shot in the head.”

He turns and vanishes from the doorway. Raylan has stopped with his glass halfway to his mouth.

“Tim.”

There’s no response, and Raylan drains his glass and follows after. He finds him in the bedroom, enacting the same routine as every night, the same things he would do in the same order no matter the circumstances: Boots, watch, clothes come off, putting on that soft, worn-in Dragonriders of Pern t-shirt and shorts, disappearing into the bathroom to brush his teeth. He always looks young in pajamas, standing at the sink with toothbrush in hand, and Raylan starts to reach for him because sometimes those odd, tense lines in his body don’t go away on their own.

“Don’t touch me,” Tim says pointedly, around his toothbrush, and Raylan redirects.

When they get into bed, sometimes Tim stays up to read while Raylan dozes next to him, but tonight he braces up on his elbow and turns off the light. There might be forty-five seconds of silence, and then Tim rolls over and tucks a proprietary arm around Raylan’s middle, tugging him in until he has Raylan bundled in clumsily against his chest. Raylan lets himself be big-spooned, though he can’t help his bemusement.

“I thought you didn’t want me to touch you.”

“This is me touching you,” Tim mumbles into the back of his neck.

“Got it.”

“Go to sleep." The edge in Tim's voice from before has gone down a little. Now I can keep you where I can see you. “You do less dumbass shit when you’re sleeping.”

#givenson #justified #tim gutterson #raylan givens #fanfiction #roaroftheninth

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sweaty-confetti · 1 year

Text

physical self care tips for folks who don’t have the emotional/physical capacity to do so

disclaimer: these are not going to work for everyone nor are they a cure-all. sometimes you need additional help or sometimes these just aren’t going to work for you. this is not me assuming that every single mentally or physically disabled person is able to do all these. at the lowest points in my life i wasn’t even to get out of bed for days on end and once didn’t brush my teeth for several months. but these help some folks, and that’s all i’m going for!

can’t brush/floss your teeth? mouthwash. mouthwash always. plus you can get it in fun flavors :)

- additionally: are physically capable of brushing/flossing but can’t find the emotional capacity to do so? put on a video/show you like in the background. it helps me !

- oh also you can get toothpaste in fun flavors too if that helps

- you only really need to wash your face like once a day with a fairly gentle soap. like even a bar soap or a diluted hand soap works.

- don’t wanna deal with acne and stuff? pimple patches are your best friend (but wash your face first)

- additionally, acne is normal and common. you don’t have to have “perfect skin” and it’s super rare that people do (and if they do, they most likely invest in a bunch of expensive skincare products and routines).

- don’t/can’t shower? deodorant on stinky/sweaty areas. your armpits, your neck and upper back (trust me on this one), your crotch area, all that stuff.

- or you can just use a washcloth. wet it, put some soap on it, and then rub it on stinky areas. make sure there’s more water on it than soap so that you can wipe it off with a dry washcloth after.

- if you don’t wanna take care of your hair and you don’t need/want to keep it long, buzz it. or just cut it short!

- alternately, if you want/need to keep your hair long but can’t take care of it:

- if you have a looser hair type, run through it every now and then with a brush or your fingers. if you’re able, run through it with your fingers at least a few times a day. running it under water for a little and then gently running through it with your fingers/a comb works as well. also, dry shampoo is your best friend if you’ve got oily hair. if you don’t want to brush/wash it often, keep it in easy to maintain styles like regular braids.

- for black/coiled hair types: i’m not black and have 2c/3a wavy/curly hair so i really don’t know much about this so please do not take this as if i have firsthand experience, this is all internet knowledge/from black peers. i always open to better information, please tell me if you have any! from what i’ve heard and learned black/coiled hair doesn’t need to be washed as much. keeping it short helps because it shrinks easily and means you don’t have to wash/clean it often. but if you want to keep it long, it can get dry easily. separating it into sections and then running through it with a detangling brush helps (a good option is the Spornette DeVille Cushion Paddle Boar Bristle 344). protective hairstyles mean you don’t have to wash it that often as well.

- some foods may not be healthy but if they’re easy to prepare and leave you sustained for some time, fucking go for it. as long as you don’t have any dietary/medical restrictions regarding them.

- foods like omelettes, oatmeal, microwavable burritos/ramen/etc, peanut butter on toast, tuna sandwiches, frozen chicken nuggets, bag salads, and mixed nuts are all easy to make and/or good sources of vitamins and protein.

- fatness isn’t a bad thing. you don’t need to work out or eat specifically to “stay in shape.”

- but if you do want to work out: i am not a physical therapist, personal trainer, etc. nor do i have much gym experience. listen to your body and consult legitimate medical sources/medical professionals. i am also not physically disabled. i cannot judge what is right for your body; only you and medical professionals can do that.

- remember to warm up and cool down. wear comfortable clothes that make you feel good. drink plenty of water!!!! and listen to what your body is telling you !!! if you experience pain/nausea, it’s time to stop for a bit and there’s no shame in that.

- simple workouts! focus on one specific thing, like flexibility or strength or something. walking/pacing is an easy one if you’re able to do that. listening to music while doing it helps too. - stretches are awesome. yoga is awesome. simple things that increase flexibility and don’t require a lot of physical activity are awesome. just a simple stretch now and then is rad as fuck.

- as always, laziness is a myth. sometimes your mind or your body just doesn’t want to do something and that’s perfectly fine.

- that’s all i can think of for now i might add more later

#self care #selfcare #skincare #skin care #self care tips #selfcare tips #disabled #disability #depression #depression meals #depression tips #social anxiety #hygiene #hygiene tips #emo moss talks

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maidofdarkness23 · 27 days

Text

Incorrect Quotes: Alive Gordon AU that I semi-abandoned but want to share the dynamics for.

China: Self-care is suppressing all your trauma until it comes back and hits you in the face with the force of 7 very large trucks.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: I desire moisture.

Desmond: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Desmond is helping Skulduggery break out of prison

Desmond: Sooo… Does this make us partners in crime?

Skulduggery: Don’t push it.

Desmond: Oh my gosh, we can be like Harley Quinn and the Joker!

Skulduggery: If you don’t stop talking, they’re adding “murder” to the charges.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club.

Skulduggery: What club?

Desmond: The hating Serpine club.

Skulduggery: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club!

Desmond: ‘Technically legal’, the two best words in the the English language, right before ‘cowboy spectacular.'

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Dad… I’m bleeding…

Desmond: Oh god… what’s your blood type?!

Stephanie/Valkyrie: B positive…

Desmond: I’m trying to but you’re bleeding-

Skulduggery: Please confirm to your knowledge that you are not a fully robotic being, were born an organic creature, and do in fact possess what many cultures would call a soul.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: What? “To my knowledge”? Do a lot of people not know if they’re robots?

Skulduggery: Thank you for your confirmation.

Desmond: Oh, so you two are getting along very… cordial now?

Skulduggery: Cordial? Nah, we're friends.

Desmond: Friends?

Skulduggery: Yeah. After you stopped us fighting, we got to talking. Seems like we have some common interests.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: We both love butterflies.

Desmond: Aww–

Stephanie/Valkyrie: And beating people up.

Desmond: Oh, okay.

Desmond: Nice rock.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Thanks, Skulduggery gave it to me.

Skulduggery: I threw it at you!

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Isn't he the sweetest?

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Just be yourself. Say something nice.

Desmond: Which one? I can't do both.

Desmond: How do you want your coffee?

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Black, like my soul.

Desmond:

Desmond: Steph, your soul is a latte.

Desmond: Do you want this handful of moss?

Skulduggery: Why would I want a handful of fucking moss?

Desmond: Damn, you could’ve just said no.

at a zoo

Stephanie/Valkyrie: What are they in for?

China: Valkyrie, this isn't a prison.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: So they can leave?

China: No, but-

Stephanie/Valkyrie, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Desmond: How do you tell someone their breath stinks?

China: Hey, I'm bored, let's drink mouthwash.

Skulduggery: Valkyrie doesn’t look very happy.

Desmond: She's happy. She's just like that.

China: Alright, listen up you little shits.

China: Not you Valkyrie. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Desmond, driving and singing to the Little Einstein's theme song: We’re Going on a Trip-

Skulduggery: In our favourite piece of shit!

Tanith: Doing 95!

Stephanie/Valkyrie: We’re gonna fucking die!

Skulduggery: Accidentally indulged in too much ‘free time’, turns out I’ve been reported missing for over six months and presumed dead by most local and national authorities.

Desmond: When I get Doordash I order 20 Cheeseburgers at a time and heat them up throughout the week so that I don’t have to pay the delivery fee multiple times.

China: I hope you understand how food poisoning works.

Desmond: I hope food poisoning understands how I work. I never met a burger i couldn’t eat.

Ghastly: Say no to drugs.

Skulduggery: Say yes to drugs.

China: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

Skulduggery: gets set on fire and screams in agony

Skulduggery: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Cop: What are your names?

Desmond: Don't tell them, Skulduggery.

Cop, writing: Skulduggery…

Desmond: Crap.

Skulduggery: Nice going, Desmond.

Cop:

Skulduggery: Uh oh.

Tanith: Unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, I cannot just 'walk up and join a circle of people talking', but it does sound lovely, thank you.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: I don't follow the rules. I follow dogs on social media.

China: What’s the dumbest thing you believed as a child?

Stephanie/Valkyrie: That naptime was a punishment.

Tanith: Sweet dog you got there.

Police: Yes, this is our new drug sniffing dog.

Tanith: Still training huh?

Police: What do you mean?

Tanith:

Tanith: Never mind.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Can we get a birthday cake?

Desmond: It’s not your birthday.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: The cake won’t know!

Desmond: You believe me?

Ghastly: Desmond, you’re the last good person on this planet. I‘d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: Your Honor, I hereby submit the following to the court:

Stephanie/Valkyrie: China, what the actual FUCK?

China: We need a distraction.

Skulduggery: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Desmond, whispering: My time has come.

China: Sometimes I like to place my hands on someone’s cheeks, look into their eyes…

China: …And violently jerk their head until it snaps.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: …That took an unexpected turn.

Tanith: So did their neck.

Desmond: I don’t know, this plan seems complicated.

Stephanie/Valkyrie: You once said that about an orange.

Desmond: They don’t make sense. Apples, you eat their clothes but oranges you don’t.

#valkyrie cain #skulduggery pleasant #ghastly bespoke #tanith low #desmond edgley #china sorrows

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getsojaded · 2 years

Text

part iii: non-refundable || calum hood

word count: 3.9k+

warnings: swearing, people are drunk, briiief mention of weed, tiny tiny underlying mention of sex lol

a/n: hello, me again :) this one is def a bit longer than the last two and nowww we finally have some slight action from cal and y/n (ik it was a slow start for this story i am soz). i hope u guys like this one! xo

playlist

—

“So, you’re just gonna go with him?” Gab questions through Y/N’s headphones, as she walks through the aisle containing all the little travel-sized necessities. Her (not-so) anticipated trip with her ex-boyfriend was now less than a week away, Y/N coming to the realization that she should probably get her shit sorted out before it’s too late.

“I mean, there’s nothing else we can do. We tried getting our way outta it Gab, trust me,” Y/N responds as she grabs the first toothpaste that catches her eye. “Are you not fucking terrified?!” Gab asks. “If I were you, I’d be straight up shitting myself and crying. Aren’t you like, still in love with this guy?”

Y/N sighs at Gab’s response. Gab knows everything about her, and most definitely saw her at her worst when she left Calum. Poor Y/N couldn’t even get out of bed for at least two weeks, only listening to her favorite songs of his, and scrolling back to the thousands of photos they had together – she hadn’t deleted any of them.

After all, how does one recover from a three year, intensely loving relationship? All crashing down because of a lack of communication?

“Yeah, but… he doesn’t need to know that. It’s only a two and a half week trip. I don’t need to mask my feelings for that long, no?” Y/N asks not only Gab, but herself as well. “You’re right ; it’s not that long of a time period, however it’s two and a half weeks of spending the majority of your time with your ex, staying in the same room, potentially in the same bed, pretending like you wouldn’t take him back in a heartbeat if he asked.” Gab states, and Y/N groans at her amazing logic. As much as she hated to admit, Gab was completely right, doubting herself at how long she can keep the act up of being moved on.

“I fucking hate you bro,” Y/N starts, frowning at her best friend on her phone. “Why do you have to be so - oh fuck!” her sentence gets cut off by her walking to a broad figure. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to run into… Calum?”

“Lovely seeing you here, Y/N.” Calum responds, with a small smile on his face. Y/N’s heart jumps, flutters, and sinks all at the same time as she quickly tells Gab that she’ll call her back later, before ending it and putting her attention back towards him. “Sorry for crashing into you, I was totally looking at my phone.”

“Was that Gab Gab?” Calum asks Y/N, her slightly giggling at the old nickname he used to call her best friend. “The one and only,” she sighs, picking up some small, empty plastic bottles for her shampoo and conditioner. “I’ve missed that insanity of a human being,” Calum responds, remembering how rowdy Gabriella was at their gatherings. She had always had a strong, outgoing personality, and it didn’t help that she was the most lightweight person ever. Two shots in, and the girl was gone for the night. “Anyways, I’m assuming we’re both here for the same things?”

Y/N takes a quick glance at Calum’s shopping basket, and then hers. It’s practically the same, tiny sized items, Y/N having just a bit more than Calum, but that was totally expected. Calum always told her on their trips that it was overpacking, but Y/N countered his statements by saying “it’s called being prepared!”

“Why’d you get the shittiest mouthwash? You know Listerine is the best one.” Y/N jokingly shits on Calum, receiving an offended look from him in return. “Listerine is two dollars more! I’m trying to save some money here,” he scoffs, pointing to the two different price tags. “You say that as if you’re not a multi-millionaire, bab- Calum..”

Y/N fucked up. Y/N let that stupid, basic slip out of her mouth and she immediately feels heat rush to her cheeks as she realizes her little slip up. But Calum’s not dumb, he hears that switch up of names all too well, his face almost falling once he hears his full name. To save her embarrassment, he pretends to not hear it and continues the conversation, ignoring the fire starting in his chest.

“Money is money, I could totally be using those two dollars for something extremely important. What if we’re short two dollars for touring and I need to pitch in the extra?”

Now Calum has fucked up. He knows he was trying to make a lighthearted joke out of everything, but the topic of touring was always a sensitive one, for the both of them. It’s practically the whole reason they were no longer together — constantly being away from each other. Calum and Y/N both take notice of the tension almost immediately, as she tries to blow the whole thing off.

“You’re such an idiot,” she quietly laughs, looking down. Calum’s about to reply, but he feels a vibration in his front pocket. “Hold on, Mike’s calling.” Y/N looks back up at the sound of Michael’s name, her eyes lighting up. Not only has she missed the boy standing right in front of her dearly, but his three brothers as well.

“Hey, what’s up? .. I’m at Walmart .. I ran into Y/N. … Tonight? Yeah sure .. You want me to? … Yeah, I’ll ask her. … Alright, I’ll see you later. Love you,” Calum’s conversation is short and sweet, ending the phone call less than a minute later. He looks back to Y/N, who’s currently inspecting the two small bottles of mouthwash.

“I know this is a bit odd, but Mike’s headed to Australia for a little bit and today is his last day in LA. We’re gonna spend a little bit of time with him at his place tonight, and he asked if you wanted to come along.”

Y/N doesn’t think twice before responding. She loved spending time with all of them, and she’d love to reunite with all of them. “Yes! I’ve missed them so much!” She excitedly responds, before her smile turns into a frown. “But I didn’t drive, I walked here.”

“I drove, I’ll t-take you.” Calum stutters, internally facepalming himself at the nerves that instantly filled his body. “O-okay, thank you,” Y/N responds, feeling the exact same things that Calum does. “I’m finished here now, can I grab a small snack to bring to Michael’s though?” She asks. Calum gives her a quick of course before he follows her to the bakery aisle. “Chocolate chip or oatmeal chocolate chip?” She asks for his opinion, holding up the two plastic boxes contained with cookies.

“Well, safest option, regular. But for you and I, hundred percent oatmeal.” Calum responds, thinking back to the countless amount of times they’d devour a 12 pack of oatmeal chocolate cookies a joint or two in. Y/N flashes a grin at Calum, and he swears that he breaks a sweat. So fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself, before his thoughts get cut off by her voice. “You’re right. I’m the one paying for these anyways.”

After quickly making their way to the checkout line and paying for their items, Calum and Y/N make their way back to his car. “I’m a bit nervous,” Y/N admits, as Calum opens his trunk. “You are? Why?” “I mean, I haven’t seen them in what — six months? What if they think I’m all weird and annoying now..” she trails off, and Calum’s hands find their way to her shoulders as he forces her to look her in the eyes.

“Hey,” Calum begins, and he struggles to continue his sentence the moment she looks up at him, all doe-eyed with a scared little look on her face. “There’s no need to worry ‘bout that shit. They’ve always loved you and loved having you around, and they’ve missed you dearly.” Almost as much as I do, he thought. “Mike’s the one that asked me to bring you along as well, no? Don’t you worry, okay? They’ll be very happy to see you.”

Y/N’s nervous face immediately turns into a soft smile once Calum’s reassuring words fill her body with warmth. That’s one thing she had always adored about him throughout the entirety of their relationship – his way with words. Calum can barely contain his smile once he sees her grin up at him, softly responding with an “okay” before he lets go of her shoulders and lets her walk to the passenger seat of his car, unaware of her tiny smile that has now turned into a big one as she buckles her seatbelt. Y/N’s also unaware of the cheeky grin he makes after letting go of her body, the stupidest smile planted on his face while he closes the trunk.

As Calum starts the car, he passes Y/N his phone. “Take it away, Miss Aux Cord.” The both of them laugh at what he says, as they both remember that was the one sentence Calum had always said to Y/N as they were about to head off on a drive, no matter the distance. Y/N was always great with music, having the best playlists on her Spotify account and always being given the aux at functions. “Let’s hope I’m still good at this.” She giggles, going onto her account and clicking one of her random playlists, settling with The Sound by The 1975. “Straight banger!” Calum exclaims, as they sing the first few lines of the song.

“You’re so conceited, I said that I love you. What does it matter that I lie to you?”

“I don’t regret it, but I’m glad that we’re through. So don’t you tell me that you just don’t get it ‘cause I know you do!”

The two of them get to Michael’s place not too long later, Y/N’s cookies in one hand as she knocks on the door with the other. In the car, Calum said that she “should knock on the door and be the first one that they see so it’s more meaningful”, in which she happily obliged.

“Hey Cal what’s u- Y/N!!” Ashton greets at the door, immediately giving Y/N the biggest hug. She giggles into his chest, as he sways the two of them back and forth. “It’s good to see you, Ash!” She exclaims, Ashton pulling away to dap Calum up.

“No fucking way Y/N is here,” the three of them hear a voice call out from the top of the stairs, seeing an extremely excited Sierra run down. Y/N runs towards her, engulfing her in another big hug once Sierra is an arms length from her. “I’ve missed you so much!” Y/N groans, and she feels another body to the side of her. “What’s good, little miss thing? I’ve missed you.” Luke happily says, patting the top of her head.

“Aw, I wanna get in on this!” Michael exclaims once he walks out of the washroom, rushing towards the little group hug that was forming in the centre of his living room. Ashton had already gotten his but, but he didn’t want to miss out on it either.

Calum watches the little group hug about three feet away from him, admiring the sight. All his friends loved Y/N so much, and it’s safe to say that that hasn’t changed. His heart feels full, and he’s glad to see all of them get along as if she’d never left.

His thoughts are cut off by Luke’s voice saying “Cal, get the fuck over here!” and Calum happily partakes in the hug, groaning in contentment. “Happy reunion!” Y/N’s happy voice echoes throughout the room, the rest of the group cheering in union.

After pulling away and getting settled, Y/N places the cookies on the little table that the couches are surrounding, taking a seat in the only available spot — in between Calum and Michael.

Sierra gets up from her seat, opening the bottle of champagne and pouring everybody a glass, passing the first one to Y/N. “Take it girl, I think you need it.” Y/N laughs at the underlying jokes within that statement, gladly taking the glass from her. “You have no fucking idea.”

“So Y/N, how have you been? Update us on everything!” Luke says, all eyes darting on Y/N. All her nerves have dissolved by now, immediately feeling comfort with the group she had once been in. “Everything’s been pretty well, for the most part! Came back from a business trip in Wisconsin about two weeks ago? Now I have a month and a half off, thank God,” she exclaims, leaning back into the couch, which happened to be where Calum’s arm was laying. Ashton and Luke take notice of what had happened, winking at each other and dapping each other up.

—

Three bottles of champagne and two hours of conversation later, it’s safe to say that everyone was pretty drunk. Everyone except for Calum and Luke, that is, being designated drivers for the night. Y/N and Sierra had taken over the TV, running their fifth game of Mario-Kart, and Ashton and Michael rummaging through his kitchen, after eating the majority of the cookies and still being hungry.

Luke takes a seat next to Calum on the couch, who’s currently playing with Petunia. “So, pulling up with Y/N? What’s up with that?” Luke asks in a low voice and smirking, resulting in Calum groaning and throwing his head back. “It’s not even like that, mate. Ran into her at Walmart buying some stuff for next week and Mike called while I was talking to her. Asked her if she wanted to come as well.” “You gonna make this girl yours again by the end of your trip? I know you want to.”

“Of course I do, there’s nothing else I want more than to do that. But, we haven’t talked about anything in that sense and quite frankly, I’m not sure if I want to, I’m scared. We broke up for good reason, we couldn’t see each other as much as we wanted to. And from the looks of it, she seems happy. We’re both happy. Don’t wanna fuck that up.” Calum responds honestly, glancing at Luke who has a frown on his face.

“You guys didn’t break up for good reason, because you guys couldn’t see each other. You broke up because you two didn’t bother acknowledging the problem. You broke up because you gave up the moment things got hard, without trying to fix it. Now’s the time to make things right! You’re gonna be with her for almost three weeks, just the two of you. You have all that time to show her you can be a better man for her. Why pretend like you don’t love her when you still do? And don’t give me that we’re happy now bullshit. You haven’t even bothered looking in a woman’s direction since Y/N had left. You still want that girl more than anything.” Luke responds, and Calum hates him for being right. Calum’s never one to cause problems, constantly walking on eggshells in certain situations. But he loves her with everything in him, he always did. He doesn’t want to start any issues on a trip that’s supposed to be carefree and laid-back, but Luke’s right ; it’s the perfect time and place to show her the love he failed to do so, before she left.

“Yeah, just DO IT!” Michael yells, bent over where his head is in between Luke and Calum’s. The two boys sitting on the couch jump, snapping their heads towards him. “Mate, how long have you been there?” Luke asks, grabbing his heart that was currently beating irregularly. “Long enough to know that Cal’s gonna try and get his ex back. Wish you the best of luck mate, text me when it happens!” Michael drunkenly responds, a little too loud for Calum’s liking, causing him to shush at him. “Sorry sorry, forgot she was there for a sec.”

“YES!!” Sierra screams as a sulking Y/N sits back at her spot on the couch, arms crossed with a pout on her face. “What’s wrong?” Calum asks her, wrapping his arm around her. He locks his eyes with hers as she leans her head into his chest. “I keep losing! I’ve lost the last three times against Sierra. I need to stop using Pink Yoshi! He’s bad luck!” She complains, visibly upset. “Guess I gotta beat up Pink Yoshi now,” Calum whispers, running his fingers through Y/N’s hair. “It’s okay Y/N, don’t be sad, it’s just Mario-Kart.”

“I HATE PINK YOSHI!” she yells, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. “No no no, don’t cry. I’ll make sure that Pink Yoshi never makes you lose another game again, okay?” Calum responds, him and Luke trying not to giggle at her drunken distress over her choice of Mario-Kart character. “You gotta use Red Yoshi, love. He’s the best.” Luke says to Y/N. She looks up at him from Calum’s shoulder, intrigued. “Red?”

“Yes. I use him every time, and I win everytime. Ask Michael, he can’t beat me.” He responds, and Y/N shifts her eyes to Michael, who’s eating a bag of chips. “Heeey,” he groans, “Red Yoshi just has a bunch of superpowers that Toad doesn’t have! You just cheat!” Y/N giggles at Michael’s statement, pointing at Luke. “Cheaaater.” Luke scoffs with a smile on his face, “It’s not my fault you suck, Mike.”

Calum just sits there and scopes out the situation, wondering how the hell he’s kept up with these people for so long. Luke and Michael continue their argument about if Red Yoshi or Toad is better, and Ashton has replaced Y/N’s spot in Mario-Kart, switching to Red Yoshi after eavesdropping on their conversation. Calum stays put with a soft smile on his face, stroking Y/N’s hair and softly rubbing her scalp. He almost doesn’t realize that she’s dozing off in his arms, lips slightly parted and breathing a bit heavier than usual.

“You tired, sweet girl?” Calum asks the girl comfortably laying on him, not even caring that he let one of the pet names he called her slip out. She nods lightly, nuzzling her face into his chest. “I’m sleepy, Cal.”

Cal. He’s heard that nickname millions of times, but he hasn’t heard it from her in what feels like ages. He hasn’t heard her call him that in a while, and he fucking loves it. He smiles at her, slowly getting up from the couch and bringing her up with him.

“Let’s go home, Y/N.”

Him and Y/N quickly say goodbye to their friends, wishing Michael a safe flight back to Australia tomorrow.

“Thanks guys. You two have one as well, alright?” Michael jokes around, earning a snort from Ashton and Luke clapping his hands together. “Oh fuck off,” Calum laughs, giving Michael a hug before they take off.

Y/N stumbles her way to the car, Calum rushing over towards her and grabbing her by the waist, trying to stabilize her. “I got you,” He whispers, opening the door for her and helping her get inside. He jogs to the driver’s seat, starting the car and passing her his phone. “Take it away, Miss Drunk Aux Cord.”

She giggles at the change of sentence, clicking Softcore by The Neigbourhood.

“I’m always gone, out on the go. I’m on the run and you’re home alone. I’m too consumed with my own life, are we too young for this?” she sings softly, sighing. Calum only now realizes how much the song she played resonated with the both of them. He wonders if the reason she sighed is because she had also come to the realization of that, as well.

Calum gets to Y/N’s place less than ten minutes later, parking in front of her house and assisting her with getting out of the car. She wraps her arm around his waist, hoisting her up. “Drank too much,” she groans, stumbling towards the door and clutching her stomach.

“Just grabbing your keys,” Calum reaches into her jacket pocket, taking her keys and unlocking the door. They kick off their shoes, as Y/N frowns at the sight of the multiple stairs she has to go up. She is way too drunk and tired for this. To her benefit, Calum notices her frown at the stairs and decides to pick her up bridal style, making his way up the stairs. “I got you, don’t worry.” “Second door on the left,” she whispers once he reaches the top of the stairs. He kicks the slightly open door, placing her lightly on the bed. She smiles at the comfort, turning to her side as Calum removes her hoodie. “Hey, we’ve seen each other for a day since we broke up. Not yet,” She half jokes, Calum immediately letting go of the hoodie. “I’m joking, can you pass me that shirt over there?” She asks, pointing to the shirt laying on her desk chair.

Passing the shirt to her, he realizes that it’s his Nine Inch Nails shirt, smiling at her once she puts it on. “So that’s where the shirt went.” “Never asked for it back.” She responds, getting under the covers.

“I’ll head out now, it was good to see you Y/-“ “Wait,” Y/N cuts Calum off, extending her arm to reach for his hand. He walks back towards her, grabbing her hand and interlocking it with his. She doesn’t know what’s come over her, and she’s a little nervous to ask. But she’s drunk, and she has nothing to lose. “It’s late, Cal. Stay here tonight.“

“Are you sure?” He asks her cautiously. Everything in his body is telling him to stay, but she’s drunk and he doesn’t want her to regret it the next day. “It’s late,” she repeats, “And we’ll be sleeping in the same bed at the same time next week. Come here.” She pats the empty spot beside her, flashing him a tired smile.

He walks towards the empty side of her bed, taking off his shirt and crawling into bed with her. She shuffles closer to him, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck, wrapping her arm around him.

It’s quiet for a few moments, and Calum’s about to doze off, before her quiet voice speaks up again. “Missed this… missed you, Cal.”

His eyes widen, and he whispers a “what?” in response but by the time he asks, she’s fallen fast asleep. He looks down at her, caressing her cheek before he hears the door open softly.

“You home - Cal?!” Gabriella whispers softly, walking over towards him and giving him a slight side hug. “It’s been a while, Gab Gab. How’ve you been?” He whispers in response. “Been good, just getting by, really. What about you? Is Y/N okay?” She asks.

“I’ve been okay, as for Y/N… she had too much to drink tonight. Ran into her at Walmart and asked if she wanted to spend some time with everyone at Michael’s and next thing you know, she almost broke into tears over losing Mario-Kart while using Pink Yoshi.“ he explains, Gabriella facepalming at her sleeping friend. “I’m assuming she asked you to stay as well.” She states, him nodding in response.

“Alright, I’ll head off to bed now too, goodnight Calum.”

“Night, Gab Gab.”

Gabriella starts walking out of Y/N’s room, turning back around before closing the door. “Oh, and Cal?”

“Yeah?”

“Get your girl back already.”

—

taglist: @someinsanefangirl @lucyjafari @i-s-a-b-e-l-l-a-o @valesnicks @juhvette @perfctcalum @bohemianhargrove @fobodob @wldflwrbby @wiiildflowerrr @fangirl-candy @asmilinghopefullromantic @jazzymariexoxoc @caramelcalum @imightcry-blog @leomoonbaby @dreaded-awakening @mytlrh @noraskaar

#5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer imagine #5sos imagine #ashton irwin #ashton irwin imagine #5sos #calum hood #calum hood imagine #luke hemmings #luke hemmings imagine #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #calum hood smut #luke hemmings smut #ashton irwin smut #michael clifford smut #5sos5

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sadnesslaughs · 1 year

Text

The 10 sit around the table in horror as the final decision is revealed. Their stomachs sink as they all remember the last time the entire Guild of Dentists were in agreement.

The guild of dentists all frantically looked at one another. Every member waiting for someone to speak an ill word towards the Hyaio brand of peppermint toothpaste that laid on the table. They couldn’t all agree for once. There had to be a mistake. Mark, the youngest of the dentists, looked at Agitha. Hoping she might have some choice words for this new brand of toothpaste.

“Agitha. Even you agree this is the best product on the market? You’re practically a dental fossil at this point. Don’t you hate all the new stuff? You tried to convince me to brush my teeth with strawberries when I first joined, you can’t be in favor of this.” Henry pleaded, trying to sway her opinion.

“A fossil? Call me that again and I’ll be giving you a tooth extraction with my foot.” The older woman pushed up her glasses, using her middle finger to perform the action. “I didn’t tell you to brush your teeth with the strawberries. I told you it helps to whiten them. I was giving you advice because any person who enters your office will run in horror when they see those decaying teeth of yours.” She commented. Her words making Mark cover his mouth. “As I was saying. It’s flawless. The product can’t be beat.”

Gasps echoed through the guild hall. How long had it been since they agreed on a product? Rumors in the guild said that the last agreement was in Pompeii. This agreement bringing about the volcanic destruction of both Pompeii and Herculaneum. Even now, the lava that surrounded the dental guild bubbled as a few of the dentists gave it nervous glances.

The dental guild built to be hard to find, filled with labyrinths of dental floss triplines and shark infested mouthwash waters. Weirdly enough, the mouthwash didn’t kill the sharks. Only giving them minty breath that would smell rather pleasant before you were devoured. As they all sat in silence, leaning against the tooth covered stone table, a voice spoke up.

“Why don’t we lie? I’ll say I disagree with it, and everything will be fine.” Hayley offered, willing to throw her pearly white dental record away for the salvation of the world. Like Mark, she was one of the younger members of the guild. Hayley being the first dentist to implement the placebo anesthetic trick in her dental office. As everyone knows, dentists compete to make their offices the most unpleasant place imaginable. With Hayley having revolutionized the dental pain experience. Even getting the golden tooth for her innovation at the dental torment award show.

“You can lie to us, but you can’t lie to her.” Graham pointed to the hanging overhead statue of the tooth fairy. The beautiful woman holding a bloodied tooth that swung over the table. Her marble wings looking spectacular under the dim light of the hall. “She knows the truth. We have to accept the consequences. If an agreement has been made, we must hope she has mercy on the world. Praise be to the one true god. The almighty tooth giver and taker. May our teeth be cavity free in her name.”

“For the last time, Graham, it’s a statue, not a god. How much happy gas did you huff before you came here?” Agitha groaned, rubbing her temple. The guild really was letting anybody in these days. Back in her day, everyone here was a respected academic, not a member of the dental circus.

“So, how do we go about this? Got some weird home remedy that can spare us? Going to pull out some strawberries?” Mark teased, only to scoot back in his seat when Agitha stomped her foot down, scaring the young dentist.

“No, I’m proposing something more sensible. Who owns Hyaio?”

“Ah, now you’re speaking my language.” A tooth drill was heard as Nichole spoke, leaning forward in her chair. She was the only dentist missing three of her teeth, replacing them with ones that could hold an assortment of weaponized pills. Using them for any dental assassinations she needed to perform. “Are you thinking of killing the product before it hits the market?”

“I’m not… I thought we could reason with the CEO?” Agitha didn’t want to admit that the thought of assassination had crossed her mind. She considered herself above these degenerates, not wanting to lower herself to their standards.

“Heh, you want to reason with them? You can’t reason with CEOs. They crave money over anything. It’s like asking a leech not to suck your blood. At the end of the day, it’s a leech, that’s what it does. You can’t even really fault them for it. It’s in their DNA. So, I suggest we give them a checkup, if you know what I mean.”

“But we aren’t murderers.” Agitha protested.

“We still aren’t. Nichole’s the one doing it.” Mark answered.

“Yeah, our hands are clean and ready for the next patient.” Hayley said.

“Praise the tooth fairy in the spreading of teeth and blood.” Graham chanted, standing up from his chair, throwing his hands into the sky, praising the giant tooth fairy statue. The group stared at Graham, making a mental note not to invite him to the next meeting.

“So, what am I doing? Am I giving him a checkup?” Nichole asked. The group muttered a little indecisively before nodding. Soon, they gave their votes and all ten dentists agreed that this was the best course of action to take. “Funny, who would have thought all ten dentists would agree on something twice in one day? Don’t worry, he will be saying Ahhhh before the toothpaste hits the shelves. Once he’s out of the way, we can impose a shadow CEO into the company and get them to pull the product. I’ll leave that stage to the rest of you. May your teeth sparkle.”

“May your teeth sparkle.” The group responded, watching as Nichole left. Hoping she could prevent the doom that would soon be coming for them.

#writing #short stories #story #writer #writing prompt

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whats-wild-to-you · 1 year

Note

I’d like to request smth too 👉👈 you have sex with Jay at a friend’s wedding and find out you got pregnant. you try to contact Jay and tell him but he calls you a liar 🥺

I kinda wanted to turn this into a story but I held myself back (maybe I’ll do it at a later time). Can you imagine that? Jay with a little girl? 🥹🥹🥹🥹____________________________________________

You washed your mouth with mouthwash and returned to your desk.

“Wow, you look horrible. Are you sick or something?”

“I’ve had a stomach bug for weeks. I went to a friend’s wedding, probably got it there.”

Your colleague nodded supportively and returned to his work.

The next morning you called in sick and went to see your doctor. He examined you thoroughly but couldn’t find the cause of your discomfort. He then drew blood and told you to call in two days for the results.

Two days later you called your doctor, asking for the results of your blood test.

‘Is it possible you’re pregnant?’ He asked cautiously.

“Impossible!” You fired back immediately.

But then you remembered.

It happened at the reception, after your friend’s wedding. You were sad because now you were the only one in your class who hadn’t gotten married yet. That’s why you hung out at the bar and drowned your sorrow in liqueur. Soon a stranger joined you. He was a friend of the groom. You saw him when he arrived and for a moment you thought about asking your friend for his name.

“Not a fan of weddings?”

“Singles shouldn’t be allowed at weddings.” You said, looking at him dead in the eye. You already had enough to drink and you had zero inhibitions.

“I agree!” He laughed and ordered another round.

An hour later you were both intoxicated and ready to leave. Since neither of you lived in that town, you decided to go to a hotel. You split the bill and the bed. Naturally one thing led to another and you found yourself naked the next morning, with the stranger cupping your breasts from behind.

You failed to leave without waking him up, and apologized saying that you both should just forget what had happened.

You raked your brain trying to remember if you used a condom but since you were drunk, most memories had vanished.

“Shit!”

That same day you went to see your gyno, and he eventually confirmed your pregnancy.

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

You didn’t know what to do but somehow you found yourself calling your friend who had gotten married that day.

“Hey, how are? I called to ask you for a favor.”

Without revealing too much, you were able to get the guy’s name and number.

With shaky hands you called, asking to meet up.

Jay never asked the reason why you wanted to talk to him but agreed to meet you for coffee.

“I’m sorry to call you out of the blue like that but it is important.” You began but noticed that Jay wasn’t paying attention. You realized that you knew nothing about the guy. Who was he? What did he do for a living? Was he even single?

Instinctively you looked at his hands. No ring on his ring finger.

“To be honest, I was a little surprised. I thought we had agreed to forget that night.”

His comment was like a knife to the chest. It was true, you wanted to forget it too, but now the situation had changed.

Suddenly you weren’t so sure it was the best idea to tell him. Clearly, he had already forgotten you and all that happened with you. What would happen if you told him you were expecting his child?

Probably nothing, you concluded. But still you called him out here, you owed him an explanation.

“Today I found out I’m pregnant.” You blurted out, deciding to just rip off the bandaid.

“Congratulations, I guess?!”

When you remained silent, just gazing at him, it slowly dawned on him.

“No. That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Do you recall anything from that night? Because I don’t.”

He kept shaking his head violently, and stopped short of calling you a liar.

“I don’t want anything to do with it.”

There you had it. The answer you were hoping for. At least that’s what you thought. But hearing him say those words hurt you. You needed him to care, at least a little bit. Abortion was out of the question for you. Even if it was an accident, you didn’t have the heart to kill an unborn child.

You didn’t even notice when he left, and only realized a long time had passed when the barista told you they were closing up.

At home you got a call from your friend, asking you if it was true. If you were really pregnant.

“Wow! News travel fast I see!”

‘It’s just that, Jay isn’t an ordinary guy. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize him!’

You talked with your friend for an hour and when you hung up, realized you were in much bigger trouble.

“Please arrange a meeting with him again. Please!” You had asked her before she ended the call.

“I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t promise anything.”

A week later you met Jay again. This time he insisted on meeting you in your apartment. Before he had a chance to further insult you, you painted the picture for him.

“Prior to my conversation with my friend last week I didn’t even know who you were. Even now I don’t really know much but I also don’t care to find out.

The reasons I informed you about my pregnancy are very private. I couldn’t find it in me to end a life without informing you of its existence first.”

“I already told you, this is not my problem!”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t need to believe you because I don’t care. You’re not the first woman who tries that trick on me. I’m sorry to disappoint you. I made a mistake, I shouldn’t have hooked up with you.”

“Yeah, ditto.”

You got up and opened the door. “Sorry to have wasted your time.”

He left thinking you’d never see each other again.

Two years later you saw him again at your godchild’s first birthday.

Panicking, you pulled your friend away from the other guests.

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“My husband and him are good friends.” She shrugged but then realized her mistake.

“Oh shit! Well, I’m sure he won’t stay long.”

You couldn’t even hide since you were the godmother so sooner or later he would spot you. Determined, you walked up to your godson and helped him stand on the chair.

“Ready to blow out the candles? Like we practiced, okay?”

The guests snapped photos with their phones and cheered loudly when the little boy blew out his candles. Looking up, you locked eyes with Jay but then turned away without acknowledging him.

For the rest of the afternoon you successfully avoided him, but when you glanced over at him you swore he was staring at you.

“Did you talk to Jay?”

“No. And I don’t plan to.”

You helped your friend clear the table and carry out some snacks and wine for the adults since the kids were taking a nap.

Just in that moment you heard footsteps approaching, then your daughter called you out, running towards you when she spotted you.

You didn’t dare to look in Jay’s direction. Even if he was shocked he had no right to.

“Mummy, where are all the other kids?” Your toddler asked looking around.

“They went to sleep. Don’t you want to join them?” You asked even though she had just woken up from her nap.

Your daughter looked up at you with her adorable grin. Being a carbon copy of her father didn’t really help in this situation. When Jay approached you, your friend quickly grabbed her and carried her away.

“I thought you had gotten an abortion?”

“I thought you didn’t care?”

“Fuck!” He rubbed his temples, visibly affected by the sight of his daughter.

“Listen, I respected your decision back then. I never bothered you again, did I? Now it’s your turn to walk away.”

“How can I-”

“Why? You didn’t even believe me in the first place!”

“That was before.”

“I won’t turn my daughter’s life upside down just because you changed your mind!” You were yelling now and your friend and her husband tried to calm you and Jay down.

“You had your chance but you thought I was trying to pin you down? Using what? A fake pregnancy? Someone else’s child? You thought I was a fraud? Sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t lying.”

You walked in and put a coat on your daughter, carrying her out, shielding her from Jay. Your friend was blocking him from getting to you and you made it to your car, put your daughter in her car seat and drove off, leaving Jay to wonder if he had just made a huge mistake by not going after you.

#jay park #park jaybum #more soju please #park jaebum #park jaebeom #ask request #send me asks #ask response #asks open #anon ask #ask me anything #anon request

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starboygrove · 2 years

Text

Surviving Eddie Munson - Chapter 5

Bang. Bang. Bang!

Steve groans, his head pounding harder with each sound of a fist against his bedroom door. His tongue is heavy and fuzzy in his mouth, and he’s still wearing his clothes from yesterday, shoes and all. At least he made it on the bed this time. He cracks a sleep deprived eye open and looks at his alarm clock to find it’s barely eight in the morning.

“Steven! You get your ass downstairs right this second!”

Fuck. It’s his dad. He completely forgot that they were due home today, getting too caught up yesterday at the Wheeler’s house. His parents must be pissed; he didn’t get the chance to tidy up like they always expect him to.

He shuffles into his bathroom and washes his face, swishes some mouthwash around in his mouth, and changes his shirt before making his way down the stairs.

In a truly frightening sight, his parents are both waiting for him in the living room, arms crossed tight over their chests. His mothers face is more pinched than usual, and it looks like the vein in his father’s forehead is due to pop any second now.

“I hope you have an excellent explanation for this.” His father grinds out, face threatening to go purple.

“Look, dad, I got caught up with Robin last night. I’m sorry I didn’t remember you were coming home today; can I make it up to you? I can clean right now, you can go relax, I’m sure you want to relax after your trip.”

His mother shakes her head in disappointment, and wow he really was not expecting them to be this let down by a mildly dirty house. Steve is never anticipating the scope of their ability to be disappointed in him, though.

“Robin, huh?” His father asks cryptically.

“Uh, yeah, I was over at Nancy’s with her and Robin…” He says dumbly, feeling the familiar build up of anticipation that a blow-up is sure to follow.

“Then you need to explain to us right now why your mother’s friend Kathy saw you hugging that faggot Munson boy last night!”

It’s like a bucket of ice has been dumped on him. He’s see through, totally transparent, they’ve found him out. Are they mind readers? How could they possibly know, he thought he was doing such a good job at hiding it. Maybe it’s because they’re his parents? No, they have never been able to connect with him; it doesn’t make any sense.

“W-what?” Is all he is able to croak out, and his mother finally turns away, unable to bear the sight of him apparently.

“I know you heard me just fine. What were you doing touching that queer!? Answer me!”

“What are you even talking about? Eddie isn’t gay, he’s not like that.” Steve makes the mistake of scoffing, but he legitimately can’t help himself. That’s just not possible, they’ve made some sort of mistake.

“Steven,” his mother starts, tone desperate, but holds off when her husband motions for her to stop speaking.

“It’s clear as day, no real man would wear pants like that, have hair like his. But if that wasn’t enough evidence, Greg was caught with the little fag four years ago. He had to be let go and everything, everyone at the firm was so mortified when we found out. To have worked so closely with someone like that, how truly disgusting.” His father’s voice is laced with pure vitriol, and with each word Steve can feel his blood begin to boil faster and faster.

“You’re a liar, you don’t know what you’re talking about! If that really happened, it would have been all over the news, he would have been a minor!”

His mother shakes her head, a single tear rolling down her cheek.

“Why are you protecting him, Steve?” She chokes out, clearly upset.

“We had to cover it up, if the news got out we would have been ruined.” His father simply states, as if it were obvious.

Steve just shakes his head, mind whirling. He’s too hungover for this, too confused; they aren’t letting him have enough time to process. His hands are balled into fists, he notes absentmindedly, a sure sign he is really starting to get riled up. He should leave before he does something stupid.

“So, Steven,” his father spits out his name. “Tell your poor mother why you let him touch you. Why you let him put his diseased hands on your body. Is this the first time he did it? Or is there a reason why you’re trying to cover for him, hmm?” There is an animalistic look in his father’s eyes, and Steve realizes that he’s looking for a reason to destroy their relationship.

If his father ever loved him, Steve wouldn’t know, as he certainly hasn’t for years now. He’s made so many small remarks about how much of a let down Steve is, how much they wish he were different, how he’s a loser and a freeloader. Maybe his parents don’t even think he’s gay, after all. They’re just looking for a reason to burn the bridge, and they found a socially acceptable means to do it.

So he lets it happen.

“We touch all the time, actually. Last night was the first time we hugged, yeah, but we’re no stranger to a friendly fist bump every now and then.” He grinds out his words, looking his father square in the face, letting it be known he is refusing to be like him. Refusing to be a hateful bigot.

"Don't tell me you're a faggot too, son!" His father roars, spittle flying from his mouth. He can barely make out the sound of his mother letting out a sob over the rushing sound of blood in his ears.

"What if I was? You'd hate that, wouldn't you? I bet your coworkers would laugh at you, 'Harrington's got a fag for a son!' That's what they would say, isn't it!?" He screams at his father, the first time he’s ever raised his voice like this.

It happens so quickly, he doesn’t think it happened at all at first. But there he is, flat on his back, with a new pain in his head to accompany the pounding headache he gained from drinking too much last night.

“Robert, no!” His mother cries out, pushing his father aside to get a look at their son.

“Holy shit…you, you punched me! What the fuck dad?” He groans out, placing a shaky hand to his face. The flesh is already so tender that he hisses at the contact.

“Don’t touch him, Mary, you have no idea if he’s infected!”

Whoever said words could never hurt you the way physical pain does was a god damn liar. He watches his mother’s hands still in the air before she retracts them, fully believing that he could be contagious from a hug.

“Fuck. You.” He grinds out and spits at his father. Completely enraged by this, his mother has to use her full strength to hold her husband back from delivering any more blows to their son.

“I think you should go, Steven.” She says once she’s calmed his father down enough, glaring at him with tear stained cheeks.

He wordlessly gets up off the floor and takes one last look at his parent’s faces before shoving past them and storming out the front door. Peeling out of the driveway in his car, he squints in pain at the harsh morning light. His head is absolutely killing him, and he has no idea where to go from here. Steve slams his fists against the steering wheel a few times out of sheer frustration, swearing up a storm. The adrenaline coursing through his body refuses to settle down, and before he knows it, he’s found himself pulling into the Forest Hills Trailer Park entrance.

Whether or not this is a bad idea, he has no clue, but if what his father said about Eddie is true then maybe he can help him sort this out, somehow.

With a clearer head, Steve would have noticed Eddie’s van isn’t present at his trailer, and he would remember that his Uncle Wayne does overnight shifts and sleeps during the day.

Unfortunately for Steve, and Uncle Wayne, he does not have a clear head at the moment.

He pounds on the flimsy front door perhaps a tad too aggressively, shaking the entire trailer with each knock. His eye is starting to swell shut and he still hasn’t gotten the chance to get a drink of water.

Wayne Munson rips the trailer door open, ready to yell colorful obscenities at the rude intruder, but stops short when he takes in the sight in front of him.

"Mr. Munson! I'm so sorry to bother you, but is Eddie...home?" Steve croaks out, gritting his teeth and shielding his face from the sun.

"He isn't, he's at work. Why don't you come in, Steve." Uncle Wayne replies with a heavy sigh, stepping aside to let him in.

"I didn’t know you knew my name,” is all he can manage to say before stepping inside the trailer. It’s been a long time since he was here, but also not long enough. He pointedly avoids looking at the ceiling.

"Mind telling me who put that there?" Uncle Wayne gestures to his face before going to the kitchen and filling a pair water glasses for himself and Steve.

"I'm not...it's nothing, really. I should probably just go to the record store, I appreciate your hospitality Mr. Munson." Before he can move, an aged hand guides him to the couch, and he’s forcibly sat down with a glass of water shoved into his grasp. He wastes no time to drink it down greedily.

"Has Eddie ever told you why he lives with me, and not his folks?"

"No sir, he has not..." He’s starting to not like where this conversation is going. Not that he was enjoying it in the first place.

"It's not really my place to tell you, but let's just say he showed up on my doorstep four years ago, looking just like you do right now. 'Cept he was a lot younger, ‘course."

"I'm not sure if I'm following you, Mr. Munson." He lies, not wanting to continue the rest of the conversation whatsoever. He’s not ready for it, not with a stranger, not after he just got punched in the face by his own father.

"Let's just say his old man didn't take too kindly to a certain...aspect of Eddie's personality. Not a lot of folk do, 'specially 'round here." Uncle Wayne’s gaze penetrates Steve and he shudders under the intensity of it.

"It's not like that..." He replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Is or isn't, it makes no difference to me. All I'm saying is that sort of thing is welcome in my home. Welcome, not tolerated, not hated. In here you don't have to worry about that sorta thing. Not with me."

"I appreciate that, but I'm not. I'm not a--" Uncle Wayne cuts him off, eyes narrowing at the potential choice of words.

"A faggot? Go ahead and say it. I've heard it plenty, 'specially from people like you." He spits out before steeling his features, calming right back down.

"Look, I didn't--" He gets cut off again and shrinks back against the couch, feeling incredibly vulnerable.

"No, you look here son. I love Eddie, and I’ve raised him like he was my own, no questions asked. From what I’ve heard, I can tell he cares a lot about you, but right now I'm not really seeing why he does. You need to show me you're not like your old man. I need to hear you say that you aren't going to regurgitate that same bullshit rhetoric, that I won't find my boy with an eye that looks like yours again at your hands." His tone is measured, but it is incredibly clear how serious he is being at this very moment.

"I...yes sir." Steve manages to stutter out, finding the calm and collected manner in which Uncle Wayne is speaking to him far more terrifying than his father’s rage ever has been.

"Yes sir, what?"

"I would never hurt Eddie, sir. Never."

This seems to please Uncle Wayne; he hums in thought and pauses to take a gulp of his water.

"You ever call him that? Well not out loud ‘course, Eddie woulda dropped you by now if you did. You ever think it?" His eyes narrow, scrutinizing Steve with such a severity he thinks he might be sick.

"No! I didn’t even know until…I'm not like my father. I don't want to be like him!” He sighs deeply, and just goes for it. “But fuck this man, I don't want to be like this either! I'm...I'm scared, and I’m confused, and I just want life to be easy god dammit! After everything I’ve been through...why can't it just be easy!?" He’s aware that he’s started crying, but he also knows in the back of his mind that Uncle Wayne wouldn’t judge him for something as human as crying.

"Steve. Life's always gonna be hard. For some, it’s gonna be harder than others. That’s not fair, but you can’t get caught dwelling on that. You can't change how other people think about you, or how they act towards you. The only thing you can control is your own damn self. If you wanna go through life feeling sorry for yourself because you got dealt a shitty hand, that's your prerogative. Just don't go and make it anybody else's problem."

Steve sits there in abject silence, mouth hanging open inelegantly. Tears are still streaming down his face, and his skin is doing that prickly thing again that he hates so much. He’s never been talked to like this before. So raw, and real, no frills but all at the same time it’s somehow exactly what he’s needed to hear, for months now. Uncle Wayne just merely pats him on his shoulder like he didn’t just give Steve an epiphany and stands up off the couch, but not before finishing off his own glass of water.

"I need to get some sleep. You're welcome to stay here, for however much time you need, so long as you respect my schedule and pick up after yourself. And you promise me you'll treat my boy with the respect he deserves, you hear?"

"I...yes, of course Mr. Munson. I promise. Really, I mean it. Thank you." He sputters, not entirely sure how he’s managed to land himself a safe space to live for now.

"You're welcome, don't make me regret this. And please, just call me Uncle Wayne." He gives Steve a soft smile.

"Ok...Uncle Wayne. Sorry for raising my voice at you."

"Don't be sorry son. There’s some frozen vegetables in the freezer for your eye, help yourself." With that said, Uncle Wayne retreats to what is likely his bedroom and shuts the door with a soft click.

He feels like crying some more, so he lets it happen. It’s been so long since he’s cried like this, especially in front of another person, let alone such a masculine figure like Uncle Wayne. He nixes that thought immediately, remembering that he promised to not think like his father. There’s a lot of undoing of his upbringing he’s going to have to accomplish, but he already started that process years ago.

His eye is properly swollen shut now, all the crying he’s been doing just making his condition worse than it could have been. Retrieving a bag of peas and another glass of water, he lowers himself on the couch as gently and quietly as possible, letting out a soft hiss when he applies the freezing cold bag to his tender flesh. It’s not long at all before he falls asleep, although it’s more so like passing out from sheer exhaustion and less like drifting off.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #eddie x steve #eddie munson x steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steddie fanfiction #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #cross posted on ao3 #uncle wayne #wayne munson #stranger things smut #steddie smut #steddie fluff

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pastelchatterbox · 2 years

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I’m scared of my dentist, not god

TLDR: My dentist scares me into brushing my teeth but I would fist fight Jesus just to prove a point. So I hate brushing with a fiery passion, mainly because of the bristles and everything is mint or tastes bad(I hate mint, too spicy). So, usually when I tell the hygienist that I don’t really brush my teeth a lot because I either forget(ADHD), can’t(Depression) or can’t(Sensory), and they give the whole “Do it as much as you can, whenever you can, blah blah blah” talk, and it doesn’t do shit for me, because in the end I’m still autistic and mentally ill. But, a few days ago when I went to get my teeth cleaned, I had a new lady this time, a lovely woman who was so sweet and calming and very kind about my anxiety, an absolute angel who fucking scared me straight. I told her about my sensory issues, and she was like “Oh I have a son with sensory issues, we had to go through so many toothbrushes and toothpastes, if you can’t do bristles, just use a rag, it’ll do the job.”. Other hygienists were just like “Clean your teeth :3″ and this woman was like “Sensory issues? Well shit, other options it is then.”. She was respectful of my boundaries, what I could and couldn’t do, and instead of just telling me to try again, she gave me another option, because she new that I couldn’t just try more. During all of this lovely help, she was scraping the SHIT out of my teeth, getting rid of all the plaque and checking for cavities, yada yada. The problem with this, is the plaque has eaten away at my teeth and made them sensitive, so half the time I was in great discomfort/pain. After it was over, she took a picture of my gums and showed it to me, telling me “That will soon become gingivitis if you don’t take better care of your teeth, and if you use fluoride toothpaste and mouthwash, you can buildup your teeth to get rid of the sensitivity.” After all of that, I decided “Oh I can’t handle this getting worse, brushing regularly it is”, and today, I used mouthwash. Those of you who use it regularly, can imagine how someone who hates mint and has never used mouthwash before reacted to using it. For those of you who can’t imagine, it was simple- It felt like I poured hot sauce into my mouth and was swishing it around for 30 seconds. The whole time I was doing this, I was in pain and crying. A terrible experience... but, it was that or bad teeth, so I did it. I tell my brother this story, saying that I went through the mouthwash experience because scary sweet dentist, and he(an evangelical) asks me(a wiccan) why god never scared me straight(He was making a pun about me being gay but I was half asleep so I didn’t get it), and so this exchange happened- Me: *dentist story* Brother: I never thought scaring you straight would ever work, how didn’t god scare you straight? Me: I would fight Jesus in a Walmart parking lot for a single skittle. I hate skittles. Brother: ... You know that wouldn’t do anything, right? Me: Oh I would lose instantly, but it’s not about winning. It’s about the audacity. it’s about proving a point.

#Dentist #Nice Dentist Cares About My Sensory Issues #She Also Gave Me Foam Putty After For My Anxiety #I Would Fight Jesus #Yes I Know What I Said Is Heresy #But That Hasn't Stopped Me Before And Wont Stop Me Now

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ditdpodcast · 2 years

Text

Dressed In The Dark: 33 Oral Whygiene

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Summary

Teeth are weird, no getting around it. Our attitudes towards them are weirder still.

Transcript

Teeth can explode. Nobody knows why they do it. They can. 32 tiny time bombs in your face.

It was a Friday night. It was a while ago. I was with my friend, about 1:30 in the morning, last call had come and gone. He was staring at a shot of whiskey that, at this point, was just going to make him miserable in the morning. Nothing he'd notice right away. He was staring at his whiskey and he said to me, “I have to be at work at 5:30 am. I don't know if I should drink this.”

I didn't know what to say. So I said, “You might as well just drink it. 5:30 is pretty early, but you just gotta get up, brush your teeth, and go to work. “ To which he replied, “Ha, I'm not brushing my teeth. A little mouthwash and change my shirt and that's it.”

I didn't witness what I'm about to tell you firsthand. But I do trust the source that it came from. Seems that one day, late in the afternoon, my nephew was doing whatever seven-year-olds do during the summer.

It's nearing dinnertime. He was told to put his shoes on, get ready to go. He was asked the usual volley of questions. “Do you need to use the bathroom?” “Do you have everything you need?” “Where are your pants?” “Did you brush your teeth?” He said, “No, I didn't brush my teeth.” When my sister pressed him for an answer, he said, “That nobody was going to be seeing him today because he was staying inside and playing.” So he didn't see any reason to brush his teeth.

I was 10, maybe 11, if I'm remembering this right, sitting in a dentist's chair during a routine checkup. A supposedly routine checkup, at the end of which I was informed, I would need braces. At that age, I felt uncomfortable spending that much of my parents' money on teeth that I was pretty sure, based on family history, would be falling out of my head before I hit 50. I asked her what would happen if I didn't get braces. She said nothing would happen. And I asked her, “How much would they cost?”

It was about $5,000 or $6,000.

I then asked her why I was expected to spend $5,000 of my parents' money on something that wouldn't matter. Then I got to go. But something happened to me that day. Something…something happened to my relationship between me and my teeth.

Teeth, as I'm sure you know, are bones, bones that live inside of your mouth and burst forth. Think about it, bones are inside pieces. Teeth are bones outside, something inherently creepy, unsettling.

#louandstu #podcast #zen #mindfulness #meditation #intuition

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lacheri · 3 years

Note

Hello Cherry I have a request! Eren always teasing and being a little mean to the reader so she decides to give him a taste of his own medicine (so sorta like a sub! eren x brat tamer! reader) okay that is all ilysm bye bye

hi Kat!! you send me the best prompts 🤤 I hope you enjoy thank you for requesting ily!!!

too much

pairing: sub/brat!Eren x brat tamer!fem bodied reader

content: Eren’s an asshole, established relationship, ruined orgasms, oral (f and m receiving), humiliation/degradation kink, minors DNI.

wc: 3.5k

notes: this is unedited I literally just wrote this up as fast as I could bc this ask drove me WILD

Your fists were clenched at your sides, fingernails digging crescents on the inside of your palms, knuckles white. You were stomping through your shared living room with your boyfriend, curses and swears leaving your lips. Eren had managed to piss you completely off, feelings of humiliation and frustration fueling the fire coursing through your veins.

It all started earlier this morning, waking up next to your sleepy boyfriend, kissing his cheek sweetly. Your half naked bodies wrapped together in a cocoon of blankets, hair messy and eyelids heavy. Usually, Eren would stir awake and return your kisses with enthusiasm, but he had cracked a single eye open this morning, frowned and grumbled, and pushed you off of him. You had pouted, feeling rejected, and immediately flung yourself out of the bed to get ready for the day. When Eren had finally woken up, joining you in your shared bathroom as you brushed your teeth, he made no effort to console you. He saw the wrinkles on your forehead as your eyebrows furrowed together, a tell all sign for what you were feeling. He simply brushed past you, grabbing his own toothbrush and standing right beside you as if he hadn’t been so recklessly ignorant of you.

When the two of you had spit and gargled mouthwash, he cleared his throat, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips, “What’s your deal?”

Your eyes flickered to him for a brief second, and you rolled your eyes and stomped off back to your bedroom to get dressed. Fuck him, if he wanted to start the day off so sour, he was going to get the same attitude back.

Eren followed behind you, smirk still growing, “You’re mad I pushed you away this morning, aren’t you?”

“So you did it on purpose?” you couldn’t hide the hurt in your voice, back facing him as you searched through your closet. You really had intended to ignore Eren for a while, letting him stew in your cold shoulder treatment, but he always knew how to crawl under your skin and get a rise out of you.

“Just wanted to see how you’d react,” he teased, coming directly behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder, arms crossed on his bare chest. “I was right.”

Fury licked flames up your throat and you stepped forward, throwing your boyfriend off balance. You didn’t want to play whatever game he was trying to set up, you had things to do today besides bend to Eren’s will. Hearing his response, it drove motivation into the pits of your mind that Eren was not going to get a reaction out of you anymore today.

However, he had other plans.

Today has been your day off from work and school, as well as Eren’s day off. The plan was to straighten up the house, invite your friends over in the evening and order pizza. Nothing too crazy or over the top, just a nice relaxing day.

Things didn’t quite work out that way. After the two of you had gotten dressed and made breakfast, every single time you tried to clean an object, Eren would somehow get in the way. He pulled books of the bookcase and left them on the floor or any surface he could find, managed somehow to fill the sink with dirty dishes, not rinsing them off to put in the dishwasher, and found every article of clothing between the two of you to toss on the bedroom floor. The hour long cleaning session had turned into the entire day, long enough that you had to text your friends that tonight wasn’t going to work out.

Because every time you made progress in your small home, Eren would find another thing that got added to the list. As much as it infuriated you, mostly because Eren was supposed to be helping you, you couldn’t let it phase you. No, you knew he was trying to piss you off. You weren’t going to crack under his pressure, not give him the satisfaction of seeing you wound up and upset.

The last straw had snapped when he walked into the living room, seeing you pick up the last book he had thrown on the floor, and opened his stupid mouth.

“Aren’t you supposed to be cleaning?” Eren spat. “This house is a complete disaster.”

Your eyes flickered incredulously to the wall clock, six o’clock it had read, your entire day wasted away, “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You searched for a hint of playfulness in his expression, seeing nothing but his stone cold eyes piercing into you as he spoke without hesitation, “I’m entirely fucking serious. How are we supposed to have company over if you can’t clean a fucking house?”

“Already cancelled,” you fumed, standing up from your crouched position, leaving the book on the floor. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to like that?”

“You. What? Do you need me to use your name at every sentence whenever I talk to you?” Eren kept edging, a feel of gratification consuming him upon learning his friends weren’t coming over anymore. “How am I supposed to marry someone who can’t fucking clean?”

You felt sharp pangs of hurt in your chest, eyes losing their spark, “Eren, that’s mean. Why are you being so mean today?”

He had only smirked, reveling in your mood switch. In the silence shared then, he announced he was getting a bath, he had such a hard working day and wanted to relax. He had left you in the living room alone, and you felt the anger inside of you bubble up, threatening to go over. You snapped, heading straight to the bathroom where you could hear the flow of water into the tub stop.

The door slammed against the wall as you threw it opened, seeing Eren jump slightly at the impact. His hair flowed down to his shoulders, arms stretched out against the rim of the tub, and in any other situation you’d be crawling into the water with him. He’d be so sweet about it too, bringing you to his chest and giving you kisses while you giggled at the attention. Hell, he’d probably even shower you in compliments and appreciation. Not today though, his eyes hardened as you stopped right in front of him.

“Out, now,” you ordered through clenched teeth. You could hear Eren’s breath kick up, but he didn’t move. “Are you deaf? Get out, now, Eren.”

His body moved before his mouth could protest, standing stark naked in the shin deep water. You could see the steam rise off of his skin, your eyes trailed downwards. Although soft, his dick was still impressive, but the longer you stared at the fleshy member, it twitched and rose a bit. You quirked an eyebrow, realization dawning on you. Oh, so this was why Eren was acting like this today?

You made eye contact with him then, his legs shifting over the rim of the tub, before standing directly in front of you. Your hand whipped up to the back of Eren’s head, fisting his hair, and yanking his head back, exposing every line and vein and bulge in his throat.

“This what you wanted? Wanted to get me all angry so I could take it out on you?” Eren’s dick was rock solid, giving you a physical answer, but you still needed the verbal one, “Answer me.”

“Yes,” he choked out, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat.

“Well it fucking worked. I have half a mind to leave you here, like this, to take care of yourself,” you pulled his hair further, a gasp leaving his parted lips.

“No, please, don’t,” Eren’s voice came out whiny as he begged. You smirked, although he wasn’t able to see it as his eyes faced directly up to the ceiling.

“You’re going to drain this tub,” you began to instruct, tilting his head so his eyes trailed to your hard set ones. “And then you’re going to dry off, and go lay flat on your back on the bed. Do you understand me?”

He nodded feverently, happy you released your grip as his neck had begun to ache. You smoothed that same hand over his jaw, feeling the stubble underneath your fingertips, “Good boy.”

Eren set to work quickly, giddy with excitement. This had been his plan all along, to get you riled up enough to take it out on him. Genuinely, Eren hadn’t meant to start this at all today. When you had kissed him awake, he was having a really good dream he didn’t want to wake up from quite then, and hadn’t meant to push you away. Upon seeing your sad pout, followed by a flicker of anger in your orbs, something stirred within Eren. He began to question, just how far could he push you until you caved in?

Eren didn’t stick around to watch the tub fully drain, he was dried off and on the bed just as you had requested. You leaned against the wall, clad only in your bra and panties, and you watched him with hungry eyes as he followed your every instruction. Your boyfriend was a beautiful man, every part of him intriguing and gorgeous to you. He looked like a Greek God, arms and legs spread out, the subtle light from your bedside lamps casting shadows across his abs and into the V of his pelvis. Eren had a beautiful cock as well, thick and long and veiny, it sat perched on his lower abdomen, twitching as you pushed yourself off the wall to loom over your man.

“Look at you,” you mused, letting a dark chuckle vibrate from your chest. “You’re already hard and I haven’t even touched you yet. You’ve been thinking about this all day, haven’t you baby?”

“Yes,” he answered. The skin on his cock was so taut and tight, feeling somewhat light headed as all the blood was rushed to his member.

“You know I’m going to have to punish you, right? For being so mean to me today?” you batted your eyelashes, crawling on to the bed, sitting on your knees by his side, refusing to touch him just yet.

“I know,” Eren whined, trying to reach out to touch your thigh only to be met with the harsh slap of your palm. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not,” you cooed in false security, brushing Eren’s hair out of his beautiful face. “But that’s okay, you’re gonna’ make it up to me, right now.”

You traced the outline of Eren’s plump lips, resting your forehead against his as you muttered in your darkest voice, “I’m taking away your right to touch me. Convince me you’re sorry, and maybe I’ll reconsider.”

Eren squirmed under the heat of your words, eyes darting across your face for a hint of a lie, of hesitation. He found nothing, only the glimmer of lust in your eyes as you gazed down at him. Your fingers pushed past his soft lips, and he needed no instruction to latch on and suck. If this was the only touch he would get of you, your fingers pumping into his mouth, scissoring his tongue, he’d take it all so greedily to make you regret putting these rules in place. He never broke eye contact, curling and circling his tongue between your pointer and middle fingers, imagining they were the divine petals between your thighs. You were doing the same, feeling the gush of arousal slicken you. You tapped his tongue, signaling a release. He parted his now swollen lips easily, eyes pleading.

“Can I kiss you at least?” Eren rasped, his hands twitching at his sides.

“No,” you placed a contrasting sweet kiss to his forehead in your dark tone. “That would be touching, sweetheart.”

Eren held back a whine, knowing it was futile. He was simply going to have to lay there, and take whatever punishment he had coming, unable to escape it or bring you pleasure amongst it all. If there was a glimmer of hope, it was crushed as he felt your face travel down to his neck. You were in complete control, just as Eren had wanted.

You sucked and licked at his throat, your dry hand coming up to squeeze what skin you weren’t kissing. You trailed your lips down, kissing his entire torso. As much as you wanted to spend the time working Eren up, you had ideas swirling in your head. Eren had no patience with you today, so you weren’t going to have patience with him. Besides, it was sort of cruel to not pay immediate attention to his swollen cock.

Your hand slicked in his saliva wrapped around the base of his length, a sharp intake of breath heard from Eren’s lips. It came out shaky as you began to pump, his precum oozing from his tip and meeting the warm wetness of your fingers. You twisted your hand up and down, beginning to feel the moisture rub away, his spit drying. This was no good, and you continued to kiss down his stomach until your lips met the head of his reddened cock. He hissed as you spat on it, hand spreading it all over. Your tongue slipped past your lips, kitten licking at his tip. Eren couldn’t think straight, and he settled his hands above him to try and keep his grip as far away from you as he could.

It was nearly impossible to not grab your hair and slam you down as your sweet lips parted and you began to suck his fat tip. Eren succeeded though, knuckles white gripping pillows, and he heaved out a groan. You swiped your tongue along his slit, tastebuds soaking up his salty precum. You prodded in just a little bit, sending a shiver up Eren’s spine. Your hand still doing most of the work, you thought you’d up the game by throwing your other hand in the mix. Eren let out a high pitched moan, throwing his head back at the onslaught of attention.

“It’s so fucking cruel I can’t touch you,” he whined yet again, craning his neck to meet your eyes.

You popped your mouth from his head, “I guess I’m going to be downright evil after what I’m about to do.”

Before Eren could respond, your hands moved to his thighs and his cock was swallowed into the back of your throat. He couldn’t stop the noises he was making as you bobbed your head unbelievably fast, sucking him more and more until your nose buried into the neatly kept curls above his shaft. You were trying your hardest not to gag, your throat entirely full, and Eren was trying his hardest not to cum on impact. You pulled back a bit, tears blinked back from your eyes, and returned a single hand to work what you couldn’t reach.

Eren’s thighs tightened, his breathing hitching, “Fuck, I’m getting so close.”

At this reveal, your pace only quickened, full intentions of bringing him to his utmost height. Your cheeks sucked harder, tongue lapping the underside of his length, and you were covered in your own spit. Sloppy and messy, just how Eren liked it. How you seemed to like it, as well.

“Right there, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Eren called out alongside your name, hips bucking into your mouth. Your other hand met the swell of his balls, feeling them tighten up as his release was right there. As Eren let out the first whine to signal his climax, you yanked your hands away and slipped your mouth off with a pop.

He spasmed, too far gone to stop. His dick stood tall, shooting his load onto his stomach, throbbing so hard and so uncomfortably that tears rolled down Eren’s cheeks. You had ruined his orgasm. His cock was leaking clear fluid, his body frustrated with the lack of contact, entirely unsatisfied. His jaw slacked open, eyebrows furrowed as he gazed at you in disbelief.

“That’s what you get for trying to piss me off all day,” you growled, wiping the spit from your mouth with the back of your hand. “Stay right there, Eren.”

You got off the bed, reaching into your bedside table to pull out two objects — a tiny vibrator and a suit tie. You yanked Eren’s hands up, tying them to your headboard. You undressed yourself quickly, revealing your naked body to Eren’s greedy eyes. His dick hadn’t softened, still painfully erect and needy as he subconsciously bucked into the air. You didn’t comment, knowing how bad Eren wanted you and your attention back to his pulsating member. You threw your thighs around his neck, straddling the lower half of his face.

“You want me to touch you?” Eren nodded, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. “Make me cum, and I’ll return the favor.”

Easy enough, Eren thought, lolling his tongue out for you to place your glistening folds on. You sat down fully, letting out a moan as your hips circled his mouth, your hands latched into his hair. Eren heard the soft click of the vibrator in your hands, and moved his south south, knowing exactly what it was you were searching for.

You gasped as his tongue penetrated your tight hole, walls fluttering around his wet muscle as you slid the vibrator right up to your clit. If Eren had only had his hands, you wouldn’t need that little toy to satisfy you. He’d be doing all the work, bringing you all your pleasure up to your climax. All Eren’s work, but you didn’t want him to have that satisfaction.

Because this was you, and you were in full control, there was absolutely no point in teasing yourself. You were rewarding yourself, Eren just happened to be a part of the ride, literally. You thought of all the mean words he had said to you today, all the teases and inconveniences. Your hand in his hard gripped harder, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood as you tried to level your moans.

“You pissed me off so fucking bad today,” your head was thrown back as Eren fucked you with his tongue, your hips pressing down harder. “You were so mean. Now look at you, pathetic. Letting me fuck your face like the little brat you are.”

Eren felt his cock twitch, feeling similar waves of humiliation you had felt today. He knew better than to speak, instead, thrusting his tongue even harder into your entrance to show his response. You were right, he had wanted to feel completely powerless under your wrath, wanted you to use him as if he was disposable, to punish him. When he felt your hand leave his hair, feeling the harsh sting of a slap on his chest behind your ass, he was grateful. This is all he wanted, tears brought to his eyes in pure joy.

Your nails dug into his peck, your orgasm fast approaching, “Oh my God, you’re such a good boy, keep going. Oh fuck, Eren I’m about to cum.”

Eren felt pure pride and love swell in his body, ruined by a cold chill of blinding pleasure. No, no, he was not going to cum with no contact, surely? His scrotum tightened, eyes slamming shut. You were going to be livid when you saw the mess he was creating.

Eren’s cock shot thick white ropes into your back, yes, from that far away. It was just all too much, the degradation, it was like your words had been stroking him up the entire time. His body vibrated, but he forced his eyes to open to watch you fall apart above him.

Your wrist flicked fast with the vibrator in hand, feeling your walls clench and tip over the edge. You screamed breathlessly, pushing your entire lower half into Eren’s mouth. Eren could feel the tingle of your toy against his nose, a small goofy smile on his lips as he thought of how funny it would be if he sneezed. You pulled it away quickly though, mind coming back together as you began to worry about how hard you had pushed into his face. Your orgasm slowed, walls contracting at a much lazier pace, and you lifted your hips.

“Good boy,” you praised, eyes full of love as you reached up to untie his hands. “You did such a good job, baby.”

You hadn’t noticed what Eren had done until you felt a cold brush against your lower back and ass. You hand circled around, feeling the wet sticky spots, and your jaw dropped.

“Eren, did you cum from just eating me out?”

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it,” he was pleading, shying away from your widened eyes. “Was too much.”

Eren thought you would’ve been furious, instead, a soft laugh echoed in your chest. You moved off of him, laying on your stomach to place a sweet kiss to his lips. He eagerly returned it, happiness tickling throughout his entire body. When you pulled away, you rested your head on his shoulder while his arms circled your waist.

“That’s the hottest thing ever,” you admitted, curling a strand of his hair in your finger.

“I’m going to piss you off more often,” Eren joked lightly, kissing the tip of your nose. “I like this side of you.”

“Please, Eren, don’t. Next time you want me to top, just fucking ask me.”

#eren x reader #sub eren #attack on titan fanfiction #eren fanfiction #eren x you #eren jaeger #eren yeager #shingeki no kyojin eren #aot smut #aot x reader #tw: degradation #tw: humiliation #eren jeager x reader #eren smut

1K notes · View notes

fromchishiya · 3 years

Text

Drunken Haze

Chishiya x g/n Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend looks after you whilst you’re drunk

Warnings: Alcohol, drunk Reader, Chishiya is once again whipped for you, ignore the title I had no idea what to call it lmfao

“And what’re we celebrating tonight, hmm?” Kuina laughs, tapping the side of your cocktail.

“I beat a game,” you pat the seat next to you, inviting her to sit down, “a tough one.”

She shakes her head, sliding onto the seat, “what type?”

“9 of diamonds,” you gloat.

Kuina lets out a pleasant yet surprised noise, “now that,” she points her finger at you, “is a reason to celebrate.”

Calling for a drink of her own, she takes the miniature umbrella out of yours, rolling it between her fingers a few times before looking back at you.

“So, you and Chishiya,” she starts.

You tilt your head curiously, “what about us?”

A loud scoff escapes her lips, her drink finally being placed before her, “you really expected me not to notice?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you take another sip of your cocktail, a mischievous smile crawling up your face.

“Oh come on,” she groans, “you practically drool every time he enters the room, not to mention the time he accidentally called you "Honey" in front of me.”

You lean your head on the counter, still grinning up at her, “really not like Chishiya to mess up, is it?”

“Stop avoiding the question,” she huffs, swirling the liquid of her drink around in its glass.

“Okay, okay,” you look around nervously, checking to see if anyone else is listening before leaning in, “we’ve been dating for quite a while now.”

Her jaw drops, hands reaching over to shake your shoulders, “why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you wriggle out of her grasp, “he said I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone apart from you, and I was only allowed to tell you if you asked about it directly. He wants to keep us hidden from everyone, y’know?”

She squeals, “how cute, he wants to protect you.”

Scrunching your nose up, you try to ignore the warmth rushing to your cheeks, “I’d want to protect me too if I made enemies with practically everybody who owns a gun in this place.”

A loud laugh escapes her lips, “touché.”

Ordering another drink, you watch Kuina tap the side of the counter, bobbing her head to the tune of the song blaring out of the speakers across the room from you.

“What about you?” you wonder aloud, “have you got your eyes on anyone?”

She looks startled, almost like she wasn’t expecting the question, “I’m more focused on getting out of here than anything else. No time for love for me!”

The constant stuttering and shakiness of her voice prove to you that she’s lying. You’ve known her for too long for her to be able to get anything past you.

“Really?” you raise your eyebrows, “cause I thought I saw you and Ann looking at each other quite a lot today.”

Her face morphs into a look of pure surprise and humiliation, “is it that obvious?”

“No, no it’s not,” you’re quick to comfort her, “I just notice these things.”

She calms down a bit at your words, fiddling her thumbs slightly.

“I do think you should ask her out, though, if you haven’t already.”

Her hands reach up to grab the counter edge, “maybe I will.”

Suddenly she stands up, downing the rest of her drink before facing you, “don’t get too hammered, okay?”

“I won’t,” you lie, eyes following her body as she walks away.

Nobody would mind if you went a bit overboard, would they?

๑♡๑☆๑♡๑☆๑

The door to Chishiya’s room swings open as you stumble in. You giggle when you see his brown eyes analysing you, eyebrows pinched together in confusion.

“Are you drunk?”

“What? No, of course not,” your words are slurred, and it takes Chishiya all but 3 seconds to make his way to your side, nudging you gently onto the bed before walking back to shut his door.

The sheets smell nice, you think, a grin creeping up your face as you bask in the Chishiya-scented bed coverings.

“Here,” Chishiya tosses you a pair of pyjamas; cute, soft button-ups that you usually would’ve loved to wear, but not tonight.

“No,” you whine, a pout replacing the smile previously on your face, “want your clothes.”

His unwavering eyes bore into yours for a few seconds before a loud sigh escapes his lips and he turns away.

Blocking out the sound of the wardrobe opening, you instead focus your attention on how soft his hair looks. You want to play with it so bad, put it into pigtails and attach pretty bows and butterfly clips to them. You doubt he’ll let you, though.

“If you throw up on these, I swear to God I will kill you,” Chishiya threatens, moving over to you swiftly.

You shake your head playfully, “I won’t, I promise!”

After a full 15 minutes, Chishiya finally finished helping you get dressed, which proved much more difficult than he originally anticipated due to your constant attempts of cuddling him. Thankfully, brushing your teeth wasn’t as bad as he thought, you had just sat there calmly whilst he brushed them for you. You had tried to swallow the mouthwash he gave you, though.

“Bedtime for you now,” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and guiding you out of the bathroom.

“Not yet,” you protest, “I’m not tired.”

Chishiya turns his head to you, arching an eyebrow with the same unfazed look in his eye, “I don’t care.”

You let out a whine, finally laying down on the bed as he pulls the blanket over you and kisses your forehead. Ignoring your sulking, he turns on his heels and begins to walk away.

You shoot up immediately, hand reaching out to grab the back of his hoodie, “please stay, please.”

Chishiya freezes in his movements, a conflicted puff of air leaving his lips after a few moments as he climbs into bed next to you.

Beaming, you shuffle closer before attacking him with a hug. He tenses up slightly, but due to your drunken haze you don’t notice.

“I love you,” you nuzzle your nose against his, kissing the tip of it along with his cheeks.

He does nothing but stare for a few seconds, blinking as if he was trying to figure out your words.

Eventually, he speaks up, “I love you too.”

Scoffing at your overly enthusiastic reaction, Chishiya shifts your body until you’re in a position he knows you’ll both be comfortable in.

“Now be quiet and go to sleep.”

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softyoongiionly · 3 years

Text

Power Trip

You and Jungkook make a bet to see who can last the longest in bed.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Genre: established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: explicit smut, oral (f receiving), spit, swearing, fingering, Jungkook

A/N: If I ever tell you I don’t have a bias wrecker, call me a liar. Also this one is for @bulletproofbirdy, I hope Jungkook can lift your spirits. I love you so much! also, this unedited cause im the worst :D This can be read in the same universe as my fic Press Start btw!

He smirks, “You really wanna go there?”

You shrug, “I’m just saying- I know I can last longer than you can, that’s all.”

At this, his brows raise as a short and unimpressed laugh leaves his lips, “What led you to that conclusion?”

From the opposite end of the couch, you feel him staring at you. His competitive nature is simple minded and easily baited into situations where it’s able to prove itself; Jungkook simply cannot resist a challenge.

“I mean-” You bite your lip, “You are usually begging me to cum at some point...”

His smirk only broadens, “Oh? And you think I do that for my benefit?”

Oh.

Staring into his eyes, the two of you regard one another for a moment, sexual tension floating aimlessly in the air above you.

“I want you to consider the fact that you’re looking your fiancé in the eye and, telling her that you’re faking something in bed...”

Jungkook finally laughs at that, his head falling back on his shoulders momentarily, “Whoa whoa whoa- I never said I was faking it, I just said I wasn’t doing it for my benefit. I beg you to cum because, I know you like it- not because I can’t control myself.”

“Oh so it isn’t that you’re faking it- it's just not as good as you make it out to be...” You clarify, voice loaded with sarcasm, “That’s so much better.”

Jungkook clicks the tip of his tongue against his teeth, “You know that isn’t what I'm saying...”

You cross your arms, trying your best not to notice how good your fiancé looks lit up by candlelight, “No actually, I don’t know that.”

He knows he needs to choose his next words carefully because, this conversation can go one of two ways. One, the two of you spend an undetermined amount of time tangled up in one another and two, he ends up in the doghouse.

“Well you should-” He insists, “Because I don’t lie. I’ve told you that you’re the best I’ve ever had and, I meant that. All I’m saying is that I can make you cum first- and that has nothing to do with how good you are. It's just how bad I want to make you cum...”

You feel your lips twitch, “Even if that very convenient explanation were true- it doesn’t change the fact that I can last longer than you...”

Jungkook chuckles finally and the sound of it sends a shiver up your spine. He jerks his chin towards you, “You wanna bet?”

Your teeth find your bottom lip as you feel your heartbeat increase slightly, “What are your terms?”

He shrugs but his palms are already itching with the desire to touch you, “Who ever cums first loses...”

Snorting, you roll your eyes, nudging your foot against his leg, “Yeah I got that part but, how are we going to do this?

Again he shrugs but this time the smirk creeps back onto his mouth, “Oh well- if you’re asking that, this really isn’t going to be a fair fight...”

He’s such a little shit.

Your lips part with shock whilst your eyes blink owlishly at him before you decide that you’ve had enough of his attitude. Flipping the covers over your head, you work your way across the couch until you’re positioned between Jungkook’s legs. He snickers when you maneuver the covers over your head, doing his best to assist you until you’re finally free from the endless swath of blankets.

“H-” Jungkook opens his mouth to make another comment but, your lips stop him from doing so.

You’re irritated with his goading but, you know that you can’t just start roughly making out with him in order to turn him on; you have to take things slowly.

Situated atop the seam of his grey sweatpants, you press your hips down carefully whilst you kiss him. He’s lost in your mouth the moment he feels it, his fingers coming up to brush over the apples of your cheeks. They encase your face moments later and, you make a conscious effort to ignore how good this is. He tastes like the sweet mint mouthwash he uses but, the rest of him smells like amber and vanilla.

Outdoing Jungkook is so much easier said than done.

But what you don’t know is that he isn’t fairing much better.

The softness of your lips and the tiniest instabilities in your breath are going straight to his dick. His hands find themselves sliding at a snail-like pace up the backs of your thighs and, god he can’t help himself as he grips at the flesh there. He always says he would die happily in between your thighs and even though you laugh, he’s dead serious. They are so perfect.

Deep in the trenches of his muscular chest, he groans when you grind against him. His breath coming out much shakier through his nose before he finally pulls away,

“Bedroom?”

You hum, pecking his at his mouth again, “What about it?”

Jungkook smacks your ass suddenly and just as you yelp, he’s recapturing your lips all over again. Only this time, he starts leaning you backwards towards the couch and it’s many blankets.

“Do you want it here?” He breathes, “There isn’t a lot of room...”

He’s right.

The couch is good for cuddling and making out but, actual sex is usually out of the question- especially when it’s so cold in your house.

Moments later, Jungkook is throwing the massive pile of blankets onto your bed and, just as he’s about to climb up there, you stop him by cupping his face in your hands. Your grip is gentle and your lips follow suit, plucking against his minty mouth. In the midst of kissing him, you reach behind his head, feeling around for the scrunchie holding up his mane of hair. Once you locate it, you carefully pull back until his pretty face is curtained with ebony tendrils.

He doesn’t question your decision. In fact, there isn’t much Jungkook would question right now. His attention is on you and, your deadly assault on his composure. When he feels your fingers tuck into his hair, he realizes he’s beginning to forget the reason why he needs his composure in the first place.

“You’re so handsome,” You whisper, “like a prince...”

Jungkook feels his heart flutter at your comment whilst his hands reach out to grip your hips, pulling your body flush against him. His palms travel up your back, cursing the thick fabric of your hoodie for being in the way. He knows it’s practical but, he doesn’t care. He wants to touch you.

“I’m cold-” You pout into his mouth, “Can we get in bed?”

He returns your pout and nudges your nose before reluctantly removing his hands from your back, “Yeah...let’s go.”

Jungkook unturns the winter duvet you have on your bed and, lays the pillows down flat, gesturing to the empty space which then causes you to shoot him an apprehensive look,

“It’s going to be so cold.” You whine and the sound if it forces Jungkook’s lips into a fond smile- completely against his will.

“I’ll get in first-” He assures you and just before he flops onto the sheets, he yanks his hoodie and t-shirt over his head. The presence of his body alone is a defeat to all other men you’ve been with. The tan skin, the tattoos, the softness of him reminding you that he is a walking example of duality...

It’s a lot.

But you have to stay focused and, when he settles onto the mattress and pats the empty space beside him, you waste no time in returning to your earlier mission.

“C’mere...” He mumbles once you’re beside him, his voice deep with arousal.

The two of you resume your kiss and, this time there is a bit more urgency in the way he moves against you. He nudges your nose as he introduces his tongue into your mouth. Pulling away slightly, he continues moving his tongue along the length of yours until the two of you are properly French kissing one another.

It’s sloppier than his usual style but, you aren’t complaining; he tastes amazing. And the way he’s licking into your mouth reminds you of what his mouth feels like when it’s elsewhere-

“I used to see people in porn kiss like this-” He whispers, “I never understood the appeal of sucking on someone’s tongue until I met you...” With his admission, he does just that, taking the tip of your muscle between his lips.

Mouth open around the entirety of his, you grip his biceps as he continues to suck on your tongue. If it were anyone else, this would feel awkward and sloppy but with Jungkook, it’s so unbelievably hot. He’s working his way over you until his tattooed arms are settled on either side of your head. Rolling his body downward, he presses his hardening dick right against the seam of your leggings. He pulls off of your tongue then and resumes kissing you normally, his lips are wetter and there’s so much spit involved in this kiss but, you couldn’t care less.

You wanted all of him.

Jungkook uses the strength and control he has over his body to grind against your aching core with precision, the curve of his dick sliding sinfully onto your neglected clit. Even as the pleasure begins to drown out the logical side of your brain, you desperately try to remind yourself that you are still in the middle of a bet.

“You feel so good-” You make sure to play up the whimper that leaves your lips whilst your nails begin at his wrists and slowly drag up the bulging muscles on his arms.

His dick twitches in his sweatpants and, you take that as an opportunity to wrap your legs around his hips. The strength of his arms gives out then as he opts to rest on his elbows instead. He’s still kissing you but now the two of you are grinding against one another as if you were fucking.

“Yeah?” He smirks against your mouth, “Good enough to cum on me?”

His attitude returns causing you to dig your nails into arms. You pull away from his mouth and shoot him a look of determination, “In your dreams...”

He snickers, sounding rather cute for a man who is literally throbbing between your legs. He licks his lips as he stares down at you for a moment, cocking his head to the side, “My dreams...” He clarifies before kissing his teeth, “I guess you’re right ah? If this were a dream of mine, you would have already came all over my tongue...”

His words make you bite your lip, your hips involuntarily curving up towards his. He snickers again, leaning away when you try to reconnect your lips, “You always tell me to go for my dreams though, don’t you baby?”

At the moment, Jungkook’s voice would be unrecognizable to anyone else but, you. It’s so deep and raspy and, only thickens as he gets more and more turned on.

“I will cum on your tongue,” You murmur suddenly, pecking his lips, “after you cum inside of me.”

This time, it’s Jungkook who retaliates with movement, his hips rolling down at a sinful depth, causing your clit to throb with anticipation.

He lets out a breathe from between his lips whilst he shakes his head, his dark eyes flitting down to where you’re connected before returning to your face.

“It’s so much better when I cum in you after I’ve eaten you out though-” He insists with a pout that would look innocent if this were any other scenario, “If you hold it after what I’m about to do to you, then I’ll let you have a turn with me- sound good?”

He’s so fucking cocky sometimes, it makes you want to scream. However, this wouldn’t be much of a bet if the two of you just had sex; you know that you’d have to let him touch you properly at some point, even if it would be devastating to your odds of winning.

“You’re going to cheat- I can literally feel it in my bones...”

Jungkook chuckles and slowly begins his descent down towards the ache between your legs. When he gets to your stomach, he carefully peels up your hoodie to expose the band of your leggings. He kisses along the skin there with gentle and unhurried movements, licking once just below your belly button and smirking as he hears the giggle that tumbles from your lips. Sitting up slightly, you watch as he hooks his fingers underneath the black fabric and peels it back until he’s working it down your legs. Jungkook knows that you don’t wear underwear with these pants, especially not around the house- but it doesn’t stop him from biting his lip at the sight of your bare pussy anyway.

Jungkook gently pries your legs apart and, you find yourself biting your lip when the cold air from the bedroom weaves its way onto your swollen, wet folds. You already want to tell him to stop- not because you don’t want it but, because you are severely doubting your ability to last.

That doubt only increases when Jungkook settles onto his stomach and positions his mouth at the apex of your right knee, “You really do have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen...” He says this as he starts sponging his lips up your inner thigh, his eyes looking straight up at you, “Did you know that?”

With your breath increasing, you do your best to remain calm as he nears your lips but, it’s so hard when he’s intentionally saying all the things you want to hear.

But two can play at that game...

“You think so? I try to keep it all pretty for you...” The tone of your voice takes him off guard a little bit but, he isn’t complaining.

He secretly relishes in the moments that you’re soft towards him; so much of your relationship is banter and, constantly trying to get on eachothers nerves.

Jungkooks starts at the other knee then, kissing his way back down towards your center, “You don’t ever-” He bites down and then pulls back, “ever, have to try to be pretty jagi. You just are.”

The sensation of his teeth causes you to jump, your movements coaxing a chuckle from Jungkook’s throat.

He kisses his teeth, “Easy.” He teases with a smirk, his mouth finally hovering of your pussy.

“Sorry-” You murmur coyly, licking your lips, “I just want your mouth so bad.”

Jungkook is about to lick up the length of you but, he stops at your confession and kisses the top of your pussy instead, “You do huh?”

It’s not really like you to plead for him as usually things are quite playful in the bedroom and, as you mentioned earlier: it’s usually him who’s begging.

Nodding, you reach down for his fingers, lacing them with your own as you dial up the sweetness in your tone to 100%, “Please? Can I have it? I’m so wet for you Jungkook- it hurts...”

The moisture leaves his mouth when you say his name. He’s never heard you quite like this before and, it’s driving him crazy.

He wants to give you everything.

“Whatever you want baby- I'm right here...” He mumbles against your skin, kissing the top of your cunt once more before shooting a somewhat intense glance your way, “...and I’ll make sure you give me what I want in return.”

With that, he licks up the length of you, collecting all of your arousal in middle of his tongue before drinking you in as best as he can. The feeling of his mouth finally meeting your cunt is enough to make your hips jerk from the bed. He takes that as a sign to wrap his inked arms around your body to hold you in place as he gets to work on you.

He uses the tip of his tongue to gather as much of your wetness as possible, groaning ever so softly when the taste of you graces his tastebuds. His hands are resting on your stomach but, he uses his thumbs to pull your pussy taut so he has better access. Your clit is amply exposed now allowing him to tease his languid muscle against it, the sensations making you dizzy.

You can feel your nipples hardening to the point of discomfort when he suckles the sensitive bud into his mouth. He only does it for a second before settling for laving his tongue up and down your clit. Breathing heavily, you tug up your hoodie to expose the rest of your upper half, your hands going straight for your neglected nipples.

“Fuck-”

You hear him curse and look down just in time to see that although his mouth is busy working on your pussy, his eyes are locked onto you.

And you take advantage of that, pinching your nipples you say, “Your tongue feels so good, no-” You let your breath catch on the end of the sentence, “nobody does it like you Jungkook...”

His eyes squeeze shut for a moment and, he looks like he’s like he’s in pain. But suddenly, he moves hands from your stomach and, grips the outside of your thighs- pulling your legs apart and pushing them up. With your knees up in the air and your pussy spread completely open, Jungkook quickens the pace of his tongue on your clit. Licking over it with a consistent pace that your fiancé knows all too well, you feel the pit of your stomach begin to grow in preparation for your orgasm.

You need to act fast...

Letting out the tiniest whimper, you reach down towards his hand again and grip onto one of his fingers, “Can I have your fingers please? I need you to fuck me so bad baby- please? I’m so close...”

Jungkook’s eyes are blackened with pure lust, his lips still kissing and licking at your clit as he moves his hand, somewhat hesitantly towards your dripping cunt. He looks so torn but, you can’t completely figure out why, but you have a feeling.

He licks your clit once more as he lines his index finger up at your entrance. You can see how wet his mouth has become when he pulls away slightly to watch his digit disappear inside of you. Immediately, your pussy clenches around his finger, sucking it in with desperation. Jungkook groans as his eyes squeeze shut again but, he manages to return his lips to your clit, resuming his earlier motions.

The pleasure from by his dual movements is causing your entire body to ache with need. You don’t think you can hold back your orgasm much longer, not with his finger quickening it’s pace inside you. Surrender is on the horizon; if you aren’t going to win this bet- you may as well just enjoy yourself.

“Can you fuck me faster Jungkook?” You moan, licking your lips and rubbing your fingertips over your nipples, “You’re making me feel so good...you’re so strong.”

And faster he goes but, he only maintains the pace long enough for you to whimper one more time before he suddenly pulls away. The loss of contact shocks and disappoints and, you’re about to protest until you notice what’s going on.

Jungkook is sat back on his knees, lips wet with your arousal, nipple hardened with his own and, grey sweatpants stained with precum. He’s taking a deep breath through his nose, his hair hanging in his face whilst he looks down towards his dick.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” You murmur, sitting up.

The promise of an orgasm is slowly fading but, the concern flooding your mind distracts you easily.

He shakes his head, “No no- I'm good. I just uh-”

Jungkook’s hand moves quickly, cupping over his dick and prompting another deep but shaky breath from his chest.

And then it clicks...

“Wait-” A grin spreads across your lips, “Were you about to cum?”

“No.”

But he won’t look up at you, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he presses his hand down even harder.

“Jungkook-” You get up on your knees, your chest blooming with pride as you crawl across the bed towards him, “Were you about to cum?”

When you ask him again, there is a bit of laughter at the end of your sentence that causes him to shoot a glare your way.

“You were cheating...”

A sharp giggle leaves your throat, “I was cheating??? The bet was to see who could last longer and, you literally just pulled away before you were going to cum.”

Jungkook smirks, “You were fucking cheating.” He insists, “With that fucking voice of yours and your hands all over your tits; don’t act like you don’t know what you were doing.”

He doesn’t swear often but when he does, it always gets to you. His voice his so husky now and that paired with the rest of his visuals is enough to force you into your next move.

Suddenly, you grip his chin and angle his upwards, “Admit that you were going to cum.”

His eyes widen then, that familiar doe eyed look infecting his gaze; it’s the same look he always gives you when you take charge.

But as much as he loves to submit to you, he almost hates losing more.

Almost.

“No...”

Your teeth find your lip again as you smirk, your other hand sliding down his flushed chest towards his throbbing cock, “Admit that you were going to cum baby, so we can put you out of your misery...”

He shakes his head and although his hand twitches at his side, he makes no move to stop you, “I wasn’t, I was just-”

You cock your head, your hand tucking beneath the band of his sweats, “You were just what?”

As he feels your hand encase his dick he crumbles, his whole body slumping forward, “Fuck-”

His forehead is on your shoulder now, his stomach caving in as you begin stroking his cock. You can feel how hard he is now, his length jumping in your hand, the tip of him covered in precum...

Your lips are at his ear whilst he bears his teeth, “Admit that you were going to cum sweetheart- and then I’ll let you put it inside me...”

“No-” He growls, “You were cheating, I- ugh...” He whimpers, his teeth sinking into the ball of your shoulder when you quicken your pace on him.

You giggle, turning your head to the side so your lips are at his ear, “What a shame- you're going to waste all of this cum on your pants when you could be pumping it inside of me...”

Jungkook groans, his teeth nipping at your shoulder once more, “Let me cum inside of you please- wanna fuck you so bad...”

You’re focusing your hand on the tip of his cock, massaging it within your grip and, at this point- Jungkook is leaking so much precum, you aren’t sure if he managed to sneak in his orgasm without notice.

“You can fuck me when you admit that I won.” You nibble on his ear, “That’s all you have to do baby- then I’ll let you fuck me.”

“But I wasn’t going to cum-” He still insists, his voice more of a whine now his hands desperately going for your hips.

Pouting your lips, you increase your pace on him for the final time, the sound of you jerking him off filling the room, “Well you definitely are now, aren’t you?”

“Fucking- fuck me...” He moans, his nails digging into your sides whilst his hips jerk up against your hand, “Oh fuck- I'm gonna cum...”

The admission is involuntarily as he paints your hand and the inside of his sweatpants with the his hot release, cumming all over himself.

“Mm there it is- that wasn’t so hard was it?” You tease with a bit of laughter as you stroke him through his release.

He lets out a shaky breath, moaning again as the rest of it comes out but, before you’re even able to process what’s happening, his using the grip he has on your hips to shove you back against the bed. Your back hits the sheets as your eyes widen and despite his sweatpants being stained and his dick throbbing with sensitivity, Jungkook is prying your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance.

“Ju-” You begin but he cuts you off as he pushes inside of you. The thickness of him is so perfect and your pussy swallows him whole, unable to get enough. Through your efforts to tease him you had forgotten how close he had gotten you but, he was about to remind you exactly what he was capable of.

“I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth-” He growls, his eyes piercing into yours, his swollen lips curved into a smirk, “Unless it’s please,” He thrusts, causing a whimper to leave your lips, “Thank you,” Thrust, “Or Jungkook...”

His pace is fast but it’s completely perfect and, it isn’t long until your orgasm comes crashing into your body, the pleasure peaking as he fucks you harder.

“J- Jungkook- Oh god....” You moan, reaching down to rub at your clit, which only spurs you on further, “Oh my god...”

He chuckles darkly through bared teeth, his sweaty tendrils of hair jerking back and forth with his motions, “I guess I’ll settle for god too...”

Leaning down, he hovers over you as you continue to cum and despite the smirk on his face, he presses his lips to yours sweetly- kissing you through the rest of your orgasm.

He lets up the intensity inside of you, for both your sake and his, slowly allowing his hips to come to a stop. With destroyed breathing patterns, the two of you kiss each other for a while longer until he makes the painful decision to pull out of you. Still kissing at your lips, he slumps over beside you, blindly pulling at the duvet to cover your shivering bodies.

“I love you.” He chuckles boyishly, completely giddy from your encounter.

The sound of his laughter makes you smile into the kiss, “I love you too.”

He brings you closer to him so that he can hold you, his lips moving to press against different parts of your face.

Laying on his chest, you feel content as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat slowly returning to normal.

After a few moment of post orgasmic bliss, Jungkook whispers,

“ Jagi?” He mumbles to which you respond by humming, “I was definitely about to cum...”

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