#multi-scan controls

[sw5w]

Summoning the Probe Droids

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:51:49

[hazelnutsforellie]

i was all over her | e. williams ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

PAIRING— dealer!ellie williams x fem!reader

SUMMARY— you and ellie are best friends, first year college roommates that never separated. when a friend asks for your help in making her ex jealous, you succeed... and seem to smash not one, but two hearts with one singular kiss.

WARNINGS— NSFW, smut [18+], mutual pining, sexual tension, college!au, alcohol use, explicit marijuana use/handling(?), jealous/protective ellie, ellie having dirty thoughts about you, ellie masturbating, hints of angst & fluff, kinda proofread.

WC— 7.5k

AUTHOR'S NOTE— thank you so much for 1k!! consider this a gift from me ♡ this is part one to a potential multi-part series... please feel free to leave feedback!! (also, stream i was all over her by salvia palth)

Soft footsteps mixed with whispers and the flicking of musky pages filled your ears while your eyes scanned the directory signs in the library. You were looking for a particular genre, your eyes jumping from the signs to Dina as she continued on about how Gentoo penguins use pebbles to propose to their girlfriends.

"I just think... if someone proposed to me like that, I wouldn't mind as long as their heart's there," Dina joked, causing you to playfully roll your eyes as you slowed in front of a large bookshelf. You needed a particular book for your world history course, your eyes scanning the titles as you responded.

"Well aren't you a hopeless romantic?" you quirked back, your eyes creasing as you softly laughed. You often found yourself hanging with Dina during the day, mainly due to you having classes together.

You shared more classes with Dina than Ellie did, but you weren't close with her like you were with Ellie, your best friend since the start of freshman year. Naturally, because you and Ellie had different majors, you found yourselves in different buildings during the day. While apart, your time was spent with Dina more often.

"You should come to this party later tonight," Dina said in a low tone to avoid disrupting near students as you pulled the book you wanted from the shelf, examining the cover. "Jesse might be there... I'd like to have you there."

You quirked a brow at her, knowing of her ex boyfriend Jesse. You've spoken to him numerous times, and you thought he was a cool guy. You felt the buzz of your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants, causing you to instinctively pull it out as your eyes shifted to Dina's face.

"I'm interested, but why do you want me there because of Jesse?" you raised a brow before glancing down at your phone screen.

Ellie: told kyle i'd meet at his party tn. you in?

"Who is it?" Dina whispered, glancing from the side of your phone to your face.

"Ellie. Whose party is it?" you asked quickly.

"Kyle's," Dina quickly answered, to which you nodded in understanding. It wasn't a surprise. Kyle was a cool dude and often had chill parties.

Ellie: doesn't matter. already told him im going so

Ellie: you are too.

Despite Ellie being your best friend, little things about her made your stomach twist in tingly knots. You loved how audacious she was, clearly taking the leading role in your friendship. Other than that, your feelings for her controlled your reactions as well.

"Looks like I'm already going," you sighed, tucking your phone back in your pocket before completely facing her. "But seriously... Are you wanting to avoid Jesse, or something?"

"Sh!" she whisper shouted, suddenly becoming nervous that someone could hear you say his name. "You're being loud."

"I'm whispering," you whisper-shouted defensively, causing Dina to playfully roll her eyes.

"I want to make him jealous," Dina admitted, a tiny smirk tugging the corner of her lips.

"Seriously?" you scoffed as the two of you made your way over to the counter, passing a few students studying with earbuds in on the way.

"Don't you think that's a little... I don't know... toxic?" you asked, unsure whether she saw it that way.

"Oh c'mon," Dina drew out, softly nudging your arm. "It's harmless. It's up to him if he wants to make a move."

"Or you could stop being stubborn?" you suggested with raised brows, nearly making Dina's jaw drop. Since you didn't receive a response, you pushed. "So.. what? You want me to pretend to be your girlfriend or something?"

"Not girlfriend, per se. More like... arm candy," Dina smirked, slightly spinning on her heel as she spoke. She seemed a little nervous to ask you, despite her outgoing personality. She gave you flirty eyes, the same eyes you fail to say no to every time. Sure, you thought Dina was cute, but you didn't have feelings for her. She was your friend, one that seemed to be too convincing at times.

A sigh puffed past your lips as you walked up to the counter, giving Dina one last glance before greeting the cashier. Dina's soft smile never went away as you checked the book out, and she was hot on your heels as the two of you left the bookstore with her shiny puppy eyes.

"Fuck, fine. I'll probably show up with Ellie, though," you explained, your shoes padding against the concrete as you walked alongside her, toward your next class. Dina softly squealed in excitement, thanking you before splitting off.

The rest of your day was a lot less exciting than what awaited you in the later hours. You felt a little anxious, but it was just for one reason. Your best friend.

Upon unlocking the door to your dorm and pushing it open, you saw Ellie sitting on your shared couch, manspreading to reach the coffee table. The various sidelamps and hanging lights illuminated the space. You both had a slight hatred for big room lights, your choice in smaller ones giving the space a comforting aura. There was enough light for you to pick up on the outfit she'd chosen for the party. Jeans, and a blue and white button down with a white wifebeater underneath. Her sleeves were rolled up just below her elbows, exposing her tattoo to wondering eyes. She drove you insane, in a good way.

Ellie's fingers were tending to the weed she was preparing to sell at the party, sizing bags as she'd summarize to you. Your best friend was also your roommate, and since she was a rather-lowkey dealer on campus, it wasn't a surprise to walk in and see her with the bud between her fingers.

"Hey," you greeted her with a small smile as you closed the door, locking it behind you as you both usually would. Ellie's attention had already snapped off her task, her bright green eyes meeting yours as you entered. She greeted you back with a smile, her eyes never leaving your face as her hands continued to work. Upon fully entering, you were blanketed in the slight smell of weed (of course) and a lit candle, sniffing and humming in satisfaction before questioning. "Is that cedar?"

"Yeah, it is. Smells good, doesn't it? Did you find what you were looking for?" Ellie inquired a rhetorical question before asking a real one, knowing you were going to the library for a particular book for class.

"Yeah," you sighed, kicking your shoes off by the door. You slipped your backpack off your shoulders, letting it rest on the floor next to the couch before sitting down beside her. "Dina went with me, and she also invited me to Kyle's party."

You didn't bother waiting before just airing it out, wanting to figure out the plan for the night. What you couldn't ignore, though, was how good Ellie smelled. She had hints of musk, spice, and fruits. She tended to switch between scents, but above them all, you could smell her. Ellie had her own scent, and it comforted you to no end. After a fresh shower, it was overwhelming. It was as if the atmosphere was blanketed with the smell of her. You loved it, really.

"She did?" Ellie asked, her eyebrows raising as she sealed a baggie closed before tossing it to a pile of various baggies of the same size.

"Yeah," you sighed again as you placed your water bottle you'd been holding onto the coffee table, making Ellie quirk a brow before a smile began to break on her lips.

"What happened?" Ellie laughed, suddenly becoming nervous as she wiped her hands on her knees, turning her head in your direction as you sunk into the couch beside her.

"Dina wants to make Jesse jealous," you explained, crossing your legs in your lap. "She asked me to help her."

"What does that mean?" Ellie asked, to which you shrugged.

"I don't know, but I said yes," you admitted.

"You what?" Ellie's eyebrows were knit together, her attention suddenly fully on you. Her hands halted from where she was pulling apart nuggets of weed. You watched as her back suddenly straightened after hunching toward the coffee table.

"I couldn't say no! She did the eyes," you frowned, making Ellie roll her own.

"I mean, how bad could it really be?" you defended, watching Ellie's fingers as she pinched weed onto the paper between her fingers, rolling a new joint despite the small pile of prerolls just inches from her slender hands. "If anything, just touching her hip in front of him would be enough."

"So..." Ellie trailed off, realizing that you had most likely agreed to arrive with Dina.

"Yes, we're picking her up," you confirmed what Ellie was thinking. "You didn't give me an option to come to the party, so I figured it'd be fine."

"You were already going!"

"You didn't know that!" you shot back, both of you having cheeky smiles plastered. Ellie didn't mind it, she did mind the task you had at hand, though. She had to admit that the thought of Dina using you to make someone jealous would only have the same effect on her.

Ellie couldn't bring herself to tell you that she didn't like the idea, ultimately ending the conversation as she brought the joint she was rolling to her lips, and you could feel your chest begin to tighten. No matter how many times you've seen it, it continues to have the same effect on you every single time.

You openly watched as she dragged her tongue across the top to seal the joint, and she knew you were watching despite her eyes tracking the paper. You always did, it wasn't new. She just wondered what you were thinking. And oh boy, you hoped she wouldn't realize.

"We have enough time to smoke a little before we go. You game?" Ellie suggested with raised brows as she finished sealing the joint. You knew Ellie had a high tolerance, and that the offer was merely for you. The idea of being a little high when you get to the party put you at ease. You'd hoped you'd feel relaxed in helping Dina.

"Definitely," you replied, sitting up from your slouched position against the couch. Ellie smiled with a nod, reaching into her jean pocket to retrieve her lighter. She then tucked the joint between her lips, sparking the lighter to allow the flame to burn the edge of the joint a bright orange.

Immediately, you were wafted with the smell of it, the familiar smell of herbs, wood, and a slight hint of plum invading your senses.

"Mm," you hummed, watching the smoke escape through Ellie's nose as she passed the joint to you. Her eyes flickered to yours from as you accepted it, lifting it to your lips to pull a drag. You nodded in satisfaction, the taste being familiarly smooth.

"Do you plan to sell a lot at the party?" you asked breathlessly before exhaling the smoke, watching as Ellie reached for your water bottle on the coffee table, handing it to you. She knew you always wanted to have a drink on you when you smoked, the light gesture causing butterflies to swarm in your belly. You accepted it from her as you passed the joint back to her, thanking her before taking a sip from it.

Ellie shrugged as she took a drag from the joint. You watched her face slightly scrunch and her eyes narrow as she stared at the tip of the joint.

Fuck, you thought. You wanted to clench your thighs together, the weed instantly making its way to your core. You knew you couldn't make a move, you were afraid. You had to suffer every single night. Everything you could imagine in a smoking interaction, you've seen it. Her tongue, her eyes, her smirks. It was all too much sometimes, and you'd have to go to bed early.

Ellie passed the joint back to you, to which you accepted before taking a rather-large hit. Ellie's eyebrows raised as she eyed your water bottle, noticing you had added one sticker to it after leaving it bare for so long. A sticker Dina had given you. Why that made Ellie jealous, she wasn't sure.

"A few kids are gonna be there that wanna buy," Ellie finally explained. "We're gonna make a few stops on the way, though."

"Should we leave soon then?" you asked.

"Err," she grumbled, pulling her phone out of her back jean pocket to check the time. "Yeah, probably."

You took one last hit of the joint, Ellie's bright eyes meeting your glossy ones as you finished inhaling, allowing her to take it to finish it off. You then lifted yourself off the back of the couch to prepare to stand, grabbing your water bottle as did so, her eyes remaining on yours eyes she lifted the joint to her lips. The prolonged eye contact had begun swirling more feelings than you'd like to admit, and you needed to avert your attention elsewhere.

"Are you changing?" Ellie asked, eyeing your sweatpants but mainly your ass as you stood up.

"What? Are these not hot?" you joked, turning around to motion toward them with silly jazz hands, causing Ellie to roll her eyes in response and take another hit of the joint, her eyes flicking right back on you as she sucked the smoke into her lungs. You sighed, muttering a drawn-out whatever under your breath as you made your way to your bedroom, which was right next to Ellie's.

Of course your sweatpants are hot. Everything you wear is hot, in Ellie's opinion. Ellie wanted to, but she couldn't stop her eyes from following you as you shuffled toward your bedroom. One thing Ellie couldn't control was her obsession with staring at you, watching you. Her stare was soft, sometimes hungry... but it was in admiration. Upon entering your room, you had decided to change into a comfortable pair of jeans, since you knew it was a somewhat casual party to begin with.

It wasn't long before you were in the passenger seat of her car, controlling the music from your phone as Ellie made various drop-offs. You remained quiet in your seat, greeting people you knew and ignoring those you didn't. Ellie chose which customers to deliver to wisely, not wanting particular people to see you, or try and spark a conversation. She chose the ones she clearly intimidated, and with some spots, she would even get out of the car to avoid them paying any attention to you. Some of her customers were frat boys, and although Ellie couldn't stand them, she needed someone to give less-favorable stuff to. She knew a cocky jock when she saw one, and that's when she would step out of the car. She didn't want to hear their pathetic attempts to bring you into the conversation, knowing well that you had zero interest to begin with.

She tried to hide it, but she was protective. She was cautious of who you were around, all the time, and you couldn't help but feel like she was attempting to shield you. You didn't mind it, though, hence why you never cared to mention it.

As Ellie was finishing up her last deal, her back was against her driver's side window, the only thing you could see being the back of her blue and white button up. You could hear her voice faintly, a deep chuckle leaving her lips before you heard her tug on the door handle, saying her farewells and slipping back into the car.

"Alright, you ready to get Dina? Is she ready?" Ellie asked, shifting the gear from park to drive with her right hand while her left remained on the wheel. Your eyes flickered from her slider hands back to your phone.

"I'll message her," you said, clicking her contact and texting her.

You: we're otw. ellie's driving

Dina: ofc she is. when is the last time you ever drove?

You: wtf i drive sometimes

Dina: LOL since when

Dina: passenger princess.

You scoffed with a laugh, pressing the power button on your phone to lock it before dropping it in your lap. When you arrived to Dina's place, Ellie rolled her window down to greet the girl, with you tilting your head to see her over Ellie's shoulder, waving her to the car. It was a cute sight that Dina would chuckle to herself about.

It wasn't long before you arrived to the party with Dina alongside you and Ellie behind you. Ellie planned to separate from you two shortly after entering, wanting to get her deals over with so she could find someplace to sit. Ellie wasn't much of a... partier. She preferred sitting or standing off to the side, her eyes wondering around her surroundings, and opening dealing from where she sat the entire night.

Most the time though, unbeknownst to you, she would watch you. She would watch you for multiple reasons, one being to purely take your appearance in and appreciate it. What else is a girl to do that's pining for her best friend? Instead of trying the numerous girls attempting to get in her pants by buying from her, her attention is completely taken over by her best friend.

Shortly after entering the house, you and Dina were immediately welcomed by fellow friends. The house was cutely decorated, surprisingly, with string lights hanging off the ceiling.

"Is there a theme?" you wondered near Dina's ear, not getting the memo for the party as Ellie continued to walk behind the two of you, her eyes scanning the house. You continued, "Because I really hope not... I'm wearing jeans."

"No idea," Dina answered loud enough for you to hear over the music. It wasn't blaring, but it was loud enough to make talking difficult. "Kyle shares his place with his sister, they rent together, or something. She probably decorated it."

"I'll be right back," Ellie told you with raised brows, waiting for you to nod in understanding before she left to find Kyle, you assumed. You averted your attention back to Dina, whose eyes were glued to something else, or rather someone else. Jesse was standing off, speaking to another girl. Funny how he was so easy to spot, but it was damning for Dina.

Dina grabbed your wrist, and before you could say anything, you were being dragged toward the bar to get drinks. Dina settled on a vodka cranberry, deciding to make you the same thing. Eventually, after lots of small talk, you and Dina were in the living room, sitting on the couch with a few other strangers, surrounding the coffee table.

You learned their names upon greeting, but the alcohol coursing through everyone's veins had them rather comfortable and giggly. You were playing truth or drink, and you just so happened to choose drink more than truth. You couldn't think of a lie on the spot for some of the personal questions, wanting to avoid mentioning Ellie's name, especially in front of Dina. After what felt like an hour, the auburn returned.

"Hey," you heard a familiar raspy voice from behind you turning your head to see Ellie behind the couch, looking down at you and Dina. Ellie's eyes nearly widened when she noticed the empty bottles on the coffee table.

"Oh, Ellie! Sit down," Dina urged before you could, to which Ellie obliged, taking a seat beside you on the couch. Why would she turn down the opportunity to stick by you?

"Don't mind if I do," Ellie replied, already wanting to sit and relax until you decided to leave. The party was rather calm besides the fairly large dining room, which was cleared to be a dance floor. Everyone was calmly drinking on one side, or loudly playing party games on the other.

Ellie lightly lifted her hips, your eyes unintentionally watching as she lifted her ass to retrieve a lighter and rolled joint from her pocket, not wanting to smash it. Ellie lifted the joint to her lips, sparking the lighter.

"Is this your girlfriend?" one of the girls asked you with a bright smile, you couldn't remember her name, but she was more than gone. Ellie's eyes shifted from the tip of the joint to the girl, the flame continuing to burn the tip until you cleared your throat.

"Oh, no. This is Ellie, the roommate," you explained with a gentle tilt of your head toward the green eyed girl. You had told them a funny story or two about Ellie while she was gone, nothing that would give Dina any suspicions of your feelings. You'd thought about telling Dina you liked Ellie, being good friends and all. It seemed as if you were just more afraid to admit it to yourself, preferring to ignore it and enjoy what you have.

"Oh, your roommate," she smirked, playfully wiggling her eyebrows at you and Ellie. A teasing smile began to tug the corner of Ellie's lips as she exhaled the smoke, glancing over at you.

"Not like that," you laughed, which secretly struck Ellie. You were telling the truth, she understood that, but she wished it was like that.

"Haven't I sold to you before?" Ellie asked, motioning toward the girl with her hand that still had the joint between her index and middle finger. She found the girl fairly familiar, not that it mattered.

"I'm trashed," the girl answered honestly with a flirty smile. "I have no idea right now, but..."

The girl's eyes trailed Ellie from head to toe, and she clearly seemed pleased, "Most likely."

Ellie's eyebrows lifted gently before she brought the joint back to her lips, unintentionally flirting with the girl. Ellie had an effect, that was true. One glance or smile had you convinced you were on her mind. It left you craving her attention, but since you were her best friend, you had it often.

Dina held back a gasp as she took a sip of her mixed drink, her eyes glancing up to the dance floor across the large room. She managed to spot Jesse dancing, but with who, she couldn't tell.

"You want a hit?" Ellie murmured to you, leaning closer to offer you the joint.

You accepted it with your left hand, placing it between your lips. Ellie's eyes immediately began to search for a drink you had on you, noticing the empty cup in your right hand.

"I'm gonna go get a drink, want something?" Ellie asked, instinctively offering as she knew you liked having a drink when you smoked. Though, she also just liked getting drinks for you.

"Sure, thanks," you nodded with a small smile after you exhaled, keeping the joint between your fingers as Ellie got up from her spot, the girls on the couch across from you and Dina going on and on about their own conversation, too drunk to pay attention to you and Ellie's smiles and Dina's longing eyes at Jesse on the dance floor.

Just as you pulled another drag, Dina grabbed your right hand, pulling you up to your feet. She began tugging you toward the dance floor as you laughed, passing Ellie at the bar on the way.

"Hey!" Ellie tried to call out for you as she watched Dina drag you to the dance floor with her joint between your lips. Ellie nearly overfilled the cup of water she was preparing for you, getting caught up in seeing you jog away. She hissed, feeling the cool water run over her bare hand. She then placed the cup of water on the bar top before beginning to make her own drink.

After getting a glass of whiskey, she turned around and pressed her back against the bar as her eyes quickly found you. She watched as Dina spun you around, your usual cheeky smile spread across your lips. Ellie began to feel as if the scene was in slow motion, her thoughts turning vulgar before she could take a second glance at you. The music was catchy, though it was nearly muffled to Ellie's ears since her eyes found you. Despite numerous pairs dancing together in the same room, Ellie managed to spot you. She always could.

Ellie smirked as she sipped her drink, watching you dance with Dina. She couldn't control her mind from wandering as her eyes scanned your body, the alcohol taking its course in her blood. She was completely immersed in you.

No, Ellie, she thought to herself as she finished sipping her drink, a small smile on her lips as she swallowed. She couldn't stop her lips from curling into their form as she caved, her thoughts taking a turn as you continued to dance. Sure, Ellie wanted to be in Dina's place, but the sight before her was something else.

She visualized you underneath her, looking up at her with your usual doe eyes you'd use when you wanted Ellie to do something for you.

"Please, Ellie," she imagined you whimpering, never losing eye contact as she kissed down your chest, between your breasts, then lower, and lower.

Ellie's tongue darted to swipe against her lips in a swift horizontal motion, the icy burn of the alcohol cooling against her tongue. She took another small swig, her eyes glancing back up at you after leaving for a split second to check the glass.

"Fuck, just like that," she imagined you moaning, the thought nearly sending shockwaves from Ellie's spine to her core. Sure, Ellie had heard you moan before, on occasions you thought she was asleep and you would release your own tension. You knew the walls were thin, but not that thin. Ellie wouldn't admit it to you, not wanting to embarrass you but also because she... liked hearing it. Ellie swallowed her whiskey thickly, feeling the coolness of the alcohol drill down her throat. She shook her head to herself, shaking the dirty thoughts out of her mind as she watched Dina bend you backward, your back bending enough to make Ellie choke down a groan. Oh, to be the one doing that to you.

Dina then pulled you back up, your face just inches from hers and that's when Ellie noticed Jesse looking from the sidelines as well. Ellie smirked to herself and glanced to the floor, thinking that Dina's plan was working, and she'd secretly hoped she wouldn't have to take Dina home since it was already late enough. Just as Ellie glanced back up to you, she saw Dina lean into you, her hands on your cheeks, and then it happened.

Dina kissed you. You weren't sure if it was due to the alcohol or the heat of the moment, but her lips were planted directly onto yours either way. Both Ellie and Jesse saw at the exact same time, all movements in their bodies tensing. As much as Ellie wanted to instantly convince herself it was part of the plan, she couldn't control the burning jealousy that began to boil in her stomach.

Although Ellie hoped it was part of the plan, she hated it. She didn't consider how it would feel to witness someone else kissing you, no matter the context. Since it wasn't her, it hurt, even though it shouldn't have. That is when Ellie realized you could have anyone you wanted. Ellie placed her glass of whiskey on the bar top, which was barely sipped on. Her eyes met yours one last time before she made her way out of the dining room.

You watched as Ellie made her way out of the room, a displeased look painting her face as her eyebrows furrowed together in frustration. You didn't understand what suddenly snapped, causing Ellie to storm off after meeting eyes for one mere second after the kiss. In fact, you began to grow a little nervous. She knew it was part of Dina's silly scheme, but you couldn't help but regret it as the auburn disappeared from sight.

"Do you think that worked?" Dina asked you as her back faced Jesse, her big eyes looking at yours as you looked past her to find him. He was staring, and finishing his beer.

"Oh yeah," you answered with a nod, looking back at her. "Is this where you leave me?"

Dina smiled, pulling you into one last embrace. She gave you a small wink before making her way out of the dining room, Jesse following shortly after. You stood alone in the loud room, your drunken eyes scanning the area for your best friend.

Ellie found a small bathroom to slip into, locking the door behind her. The music and loud chattering was instantly muffled, allowing Ellie to let out a huff of relief. She glanced at herself in the mirror, letting out a long sigh at the sight of her slightly hooded eyes. She knew she had to drive soon, and despite not feeling any sort of high, she still looked the part.

Ellie leaned forward and twisted the faucet on, the cool water shooting out against her slender hands. She cupped her hands to collect the water before splashing her face numerous times. She didn't like how she felt, angry. Jealous. She wouldn't admit it if you asked, that's for sure.

"Fuck," Ellie cursed to herself as she twisted the faucet off, wiping off the leftover droplets that remained on her cheeks and chin. She then hissed to herself, "You're being stupid, Ellie."

To pine after your best friend is one thing, but to get overwhelmingly jealous when you see them kiss someone else? That's a slight issue.

The door handle to the bathroom began to rattle, nearly making Ellie jump out of her skin. Ellie quickly unlocked it, no longer needing the bathroom anyway. Her green orbs nearly popped out when she was met with Dina and Jesse on the other side of the hallow door.

"Wha... you know what? I won't ask. Where is she?" Ellie asked Dina, knowing Dina would know who she was talking about.

"Still dancing, I think," Dina said with a smile, looking back up at Jesse as she was overcome with their sudden reformation. Ellie awkwardly stepped out of the bathroom, allowing Dina and Jesse to take the room as she searched the house for you.

After not spotting you in the dining room, she began to have a slight internal panic. Ellie found her way back in the living room, spotting the same girls you were hanging out with before Dina pulled you out to dance.

"Have any of you seen the girl I came with?"

"Oh, your roommate?" one girl teased, nearly making Ellie roll her eyes. "I think she went outside. Looked like she was ready to fall asleep."

Ellie took that as her sign to bolt to the front door, exiting the house. She quickly spotted you next to her car, leaning against the side of the hood with your arms folded over your chest. You looked exhausted, your eyes nearly closed as you hummed a tune.

"Shit, I'm so sorry," Ellie quickly apologized as she approached you, fumbling through her pocket to retrieve her car keys. You blinked, still conscious as Ellie pulled your door open in front of you. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm, I want to go home," you murmured, beyond consumed by exhaustion and the alcohol that continued to make your head spin. You quietly thanked her as you got into the car, Ellie closing the door after you were fully inside. You sunk into the comfortable seat while you lazily buckled yourself, your eyes hanging half-open, threatening to close. You were drunk, but not incapable of simple tasks.

"It's really cold," you softly whined, wrapping your arms around yourself as Ellie slipped into the car. Ellie shoved the key into the ignition, starting the car to get the heat going for you. She then buckled, her arms flexing as she tightened the strap over her chest, glancing over at you to make sure yours was on as well.

"We'll be home soon," Ellie assured you kindly, shifting the gear to drive. You were afraid you had upset Ellie, remembering how upset she looked after Dina kissed you. You weren't sure why, but you had the feeling Ellie had feelings for Dina, wishing it was her instead. Your mind ran and that's when you found yourself outside, waiting on Ellie to go home.

The entire way back to your dorm, Ellie would take occasional glances at your sleeping form. Her left elbow was pressed against her door, her right hand resting on the top of the wheel as she leaned against the door. You were fast asleep soon after the car started, curled into a ball in Ellie's direction. It allowed her to easily catch a glimpse of your face to make sure you were still okay, and to admire.

Ellie was aware of her obsession with staring at you. She couldn't help it, you were gorgeous. She learned every crevice and mark on your skin, the way your lashes would relax against your cheeks.

You entire walk to your dorm from the car, Ellie's hand was gently resting on your middle back, guiding you until you reached your door, her hand then moving to your lower back as she used her other hand to search her pocket for her keys. Ellie was used to taking care of you like this — making sure you wouldn't fall over, exactly.

"I'm fine, Ellie," you'd murmur, though she'd ignore it, since you have indeed fallen on her or the floor numerous times. She managed to swiftly unlock the door and guide you inside, pulling the keys out of the lock with her other hand, then closing the door behind her with her heel. Ellie felt thankful for her tolerance, feeling completely sober as she walked close behind you to your bedroom, stopping in your doorway as you kicked your shoes off.

"You don't have to babysit me," you tiredly slurred, nearly tripping as your hands landed on your bed, using it to stabilize yourself for a moment, a sudden swirl of dizziness finding its way behind your eyes.

"You sure?" Ellie asked, stepping inside your room to help you onto your bed. "C'mon, I got 'ya."

Ellie gently grabbed your forearm, her eyes glancing to your face before guiding you onto the bed. You plopped down rather harshly, sinking into the middle of your bed as Ellie pulled your blankets over your frame. She wanted to tuck you in but she didn't want to be weird with the state you were in, so she merely made sure your entire body was covered, excluding your face.

"Thank you," you murmured with your eyes closed, causing Ellie to smile as her eyes trailed from your eyelids to your nose. She was leaned to your level from covering you, instantly smelling the liquor from your lips, as well as the sweet smell of just you.

"Anytime," she smiled as she leaned back up, taking just one step away to leave until you spoke.

"Are you not sleeping with me?" you whined, reaching to gently tug on her button down, fully expecting Ellie to stay with you during your drunken state. Ellie smiled from how bold you've always been with your words when you were drunk, though they were respectful.

"I want to smoke a little bit," Ellie chuckled at your neediness. Sure, being your best friend and all, she became accustomed to your occasional need for affection, and sleeping in the same bed was one of them. 

"Will you come in after?"

"Maybe," Ellie joked, making her way toward your bedroom door after you released your grip from her shirt.

"Please?" you whined, lightly slurring as you fell into a slumber.

The sound made Ellie want to say fuck it and lay down with you right then and there. She could've sworn she felt her knees quiver, her breath halting as her hand froze on the door handle. It was obvious you were dozing off, if not already sleep talking. Ellie realized you were asleep and quietly snuck out of the room, leaving the door cracked before heading for the couch.

As she sat on her side of the couch in the quiet living area, Ellie could smell the leftover lingering of your perfume, instinctively making her grin to herself. She grabbed a pre rolled joint off the coffee table, something she needed to stop leaving out so carelessly. Lighting the joint for herself, she thought about the party and her reaction. She remembered meeting your eyes for that one moment before she left. She didn't want to leave that way. She was angry, and she hated she was. She hoped you'd forget about it... not want to talk about it.

She was annoyed with herself for not being able to forget about it. She wanted to, she really did. Her mind began to wander as she tugged the smoke into her lungs, softly puffing it back out through her nose and mouth. She watched as it slowly crept toward the cracked windows beside the couch, which were always open, of course.

To avoid the thought of the kiss, she thought about what happened beforehand. The way you were dancing, your beautiful smile, all of it was too much for Ellie to ignore. She couldn't stop the thoughts from running, the rather-dirty thoughts that would lead her to shiver in her seat in desperation.

"Fuck," Ellie grumbled to herself, feeling herself growing wet at the memory. Your smile and the way your back arched was something different. The weed was surely enhancing her arousal, and she quickly got lost in thought about you, sinking into the couch, laying across it as she continued to puff on the joint.

The overwhelming tension in Ellie's heart corresponded with her core, a desperate need for you in particular. She couldn't help herself as her left hand brought the joint back to her lips before she used both to begin unbuttoning her jeans. She needed to release at least a little bit of tension.

Her mind began to wander, instantly picturing you. She wouldn't admit it to your face, but she used her imagination a lot. A lot. She felt wrong... naughty, even. She would be blatantly lying if she told you she had never thought about you while touching herself from being so smitten, but also because she heard you before. She knew what you sounded like when you were making yourself feel good.

Picturing you back on the dance floor and the way she could see the crevices of your neck, the way you smiled as you spun— it drove her mad. She wished she could've been in Dina's place. Once Ellie had pushed her jeans off her hips just enough to give herself comfortable access, her right hand instantly found its way underneath the band of her underwear, her cold fingertips making contact with her throbbing bundle of nerves. Her index finger and thumb of her left hand pinched the joint, pulling it from her lips after she took a long drag, her eyes fluttering shut as her head fell back against the couch.

"F-fuck," Ellie muttered under her breath, nearly sounding like a gasp for air, the sensation sending pleasureful waves through her core as her high only intensified it. She thought about how you'd watch her when she was licking a joint or a blunt when she'd roll. She would notice the way your legs would twitch in the slightest, the way your lips would part ever so slightly. Ellie wouldn't watch you the whole time, of course, because you were watching her. She had good peripheral vision, though, and she took note of everything she could. She always has.

Her fingers then dipped down to her folds, tenderly swirling her own arousal on her fingertips before pulling them back to her swollen clit. Ellie pleasuring herself is a sight, one that no one ever had the chance to see. It was shameful, for if you were to accidentally walk in, you wouldn't know what to do. You would stop in place, your eyes locked on her. She'd thought about the situation before, and had admitted to herself that she would want you to watch.

She just wanted you. In any way she could. She couldn't deny the way she would feel herself grow more and more soaked at the thought of you begging for her.

Please, you had whined. Maybe you intended to make her feel that way, maybe you didn't. Either way, the thought of you begging as she teased you, the sexual tension she had built up over time was astounding. It's a wonder how she never caved, but it was for one thing only. She wanted more than that with you, and the thought of risking your friendship was unbearable.

"Shit," Ellie whimpered under her breath. She wanted to hear you beg for her, but at the same time, she knew that she wouldn't be able to hold herself back from pleasing you the moment you'd ask. She was so distracted with pleasuring herself, the joint was seconds away from slipping between her fingers.

She suddenly brought it to her lips to take a hit, muffling her own moans for a moment as she pictured herself above you, peppering kisses on the pretty, delicate skin of your neck. Ellie imagined saying various things to you, things she would be mortified to admit. It was almost as if she could hear the sounds of your moans, echoing in the back of her mind as she recollected the memory. She wanted to know what you felt like, tasted like, truly sounded like. Ellie knew she could make you feel good, having an internal battle with herself whenever she heard you pleasuring yourself, your soft moans bouncing against the thin walls. You wouldn't say anything besides a string or curses, and Ellie would never tell you that she hoped to hear her name.

"O-oh.. f-f..fuck!" Ellie whisper-shouted, followed by a harsh grunt as Ellie pressed her left forearm against her mouth, careful to avoid burning herself with the joint. She muffled her moans as soon as her peak crashed, her shoulders shuddering and her thighs clamping together, locking her own hand against her soaked cunt.

Ellie laid in the same position for a moment, allowing her muscles to relax as she caught her breath, lowering her arm from her face to glance at the joint. The ash was gone, and Ellie's heart thumped in her chest. She glanced to the side, an obvious burn mark in the couch just inches from Ellie's view.

"Oh, fuck," Ellie groaned, pulling her hand from between her legs to sit up. She tapped the edge of the joint against the center of the ashtray that sat on the coffee table before leaving the joint in it. She then stood up, rather comically, as she nearly fell over from the sudden weight on her feet.

She turned around to face the couch again, her eyes landing on the burn mark in the couch as she buttoned her jeans. She didn't think you would be upset, since it was Ellie's couch, but she wasn't sure how she was going to explain the cause. She reached to scratch the nape of her neck, too exhausted to finish the joint let alone worry about a cover story.

Although you begged her to lay down with you after she finished smoking, the sight before caused a gentle chuckle to erupt in Ellie's throat. Upon gently pushing open your cracked door, she saw you completely sprawled across your bed with zero room for her to join you. She shook her head to herself, unable to control her lips from curling into a small smile as she pulled the door back to its previous position.

Ellie stood outside your door for a moment, letting a soft sigh escape her lips before she turned on her heel and pushed open her own bedroom door, right across from yours. She was thankful you were asleep, unable to question her own inability to sleep as she laid in her bed, eyes open as she watched the city life outside her window beside her. It wasn't often that she would stay up, unable to fall asleep despite feeling such exhaustion.

Ellie was many things, and an overthinker was one of them. She couldn't help but wonder how you felt when Dina kissed you.

It was just part of the plan, Ellie thought over and over again.

Ellie was afraid that if she didn't consider Dina a friend of her own, she would have acted a lot differently. Over the time Ellie has known you, she never witnessed you kiss another person until Dina kissed you, and she had never prepared herself for the sight. The sight of you kissing someone else, no matter the reason. It struck her, and she knew she couldn't tell you. She just hoped you wouldn't question her for her reaction.

TAGLIST @kurosaaki @prrimordiais @bellswlw @rxllingstones @coeurify @dergy @elliesstar @elliephobic

[saturnville]

on the frontline (III), major john egan

pairing: major john egan x major nessa dixon content: the reality of war catches up with nessa. warning: mentions of getting sick, blood, war tag list: @neeville @turn-thy-paige @ihe4rtisa @ineedafictionalman @lovebyceleste @alliewassobonum

“Make some room, boys,” Nessa said with an unusual sense of glee as she walked toward the group of pilots on standby. The sun beamed against her face, the breeze kissed the exposed skin of her neck, and her body was on fire beneath her flightwear, but she was ready. From behind her dark sunglasses, she saw John’s eyebrow raise and Gale look at her quizzically. “Colonel said I’m up with Egan. Medical purposes. I’m with you next, Cleven.” 

She peeled her backpack off her shoulders and threw it at their feet. “You mind taking that up for me?” The majors looked at each other, but nonetheless, John grabbed her backpack and slung it over his shoulder. His eyes raked her figure as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants.

Her outfit was just slightly different than what she wore on a day-to-day basis. Rather than her shirt and pants being separate, they were together. A green jumpsuit covered her body, save for the few buttons she left undone He saw a gold necklace wrapped around her neck with a pendant that sat at the valley of her breasts. On top of that were the dog tags she refused to take off. 

Across her chest and shoulders were the series of accolades, pins, and lapels she’d been rewarded for her years of service. In her mouth was a piece of gum that she chewed on violently. She was nervous, John noted. And it didn’t go unnoticed by him. But, she kept a smile on her face and kept her upbeat attitude the best she could. If only she knew how quickly it would falter. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised that the Colonel put you on his craft,” Gale chuckled, guiding her to the belly of the plane. His teasing didn’t fall on deaf ears. Instead of replying, she chose to send him a wink. John, who’d entered first, held his hand out to her which she took. His hands were strong, calloused, and warm. 

Nessa grunted as she used Gale’s hands as a boost, then was yanked onto the aircraft. She was stabilized by John’s hands; one on her back and the other on her hip, dangerously close to her bottom. “You good?” he asked her. Nessa didn’t meet his eyes but nodded. “All good.” 

“See you in the air, B,” Gale nodded at the pair and sauntered off to his aircraft to prepare for takeoff. John sighed lowly and looked around the aircraft, wondering where to start. A flight nurse was new to him, just as he assumed it must have been new to her. 

“Alright, here’s the fort,” he started, gesturing toward the front of the plane where the controls and wheels were. Nessa’s eyes scanned the control board. So many buttons, switches, and wires to manage at once. In the corner of John’s fort was a picture. A picture of him and Gale at their flight academy graduation. She smiled. They were truly two peas in a pod; inseparable. 

“Navigators work back here,” he pointed to the small table toward the back of the plane. “Exit is the same way you came in. Parachutes are here. You need one at all times. Never know what’s going to happen. Since you’re not navigating or flying, you put one on now.” 

Nessa glanced at the contraption the major handed her. She was smart, sure, but the parachute looked more complicated than she needed it to be. No words were spoken as she raised her eyes to meet his, a silent help being spoken through multi-colored irises. John chuckled lightly and unbuckled the parachute and slid it over her arms. “S’supposed to fit like a backpack.” His fingers carefully snapped it into place at her chest. “You good?” 

Nessa’s eyes twinkled, “All good, Major.” 

-

“Stay with me, dammit!” Nessa’s voice was strained as her voice raised an octave. Being in the air was terrifying. It was nothing like she’d expected it to be. She knew she’d dodge and dive a few bullets, that she’d mend a gunshot wound to the leg, or that she’d flinch from the turbulence, but she was sadly mistaken. 

She’d fought her way out of her coat, parachute, and hat. The mask across her face was hardly hanging on for dear life as she fought tooth and nail to stop an abdominal bleed. An enemy plane shot at the American aircraft. The bullet found a home in an amateur pilot. 

Her hands were stained crimson, blanketed with warm blood as she hovered over the pilot to keep the bleeding at bay. The bullet was too deep. She tried to retrieve it, but she didn’t have the materials needed. 

Guilt drowned her as the pilot’s breathing went shallow. His eyelids struggled to stay open. She snatched her oxygen mask off and placed it on his face forcefully. His face began to fade as her eyes filled with tears. “Wake up! Stay with me. Please…” Silence. 

Nessa’s face softened as the tears finally fell. Her tongue ran across the bottom row of her teeth as she moved her jaw from left to right to delay the sob that bubbled deep within her. The emotional turbulence outweighed the physical turbulence of the plane; she hardly recognized they had landed. 

She felt a gloved hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head hung heavy and turned slowly. Her mascara was smeared, her eyes were bloodshot red, and her eyelids were swollen. She was destroyed. She’d seen many things from the war, but this was too much. “C’mon, we’ve got to get out of here so the coroners can get his body.” 

She shoved his hand off her shoulder and shook her head rapidly. “No, I’ll wait here.” From above her, John sighed heavily. The grief would wreck her even more once the reality fully set in. 

“Nessa...”

Fire rose in her eyes. “This is my job, John. I am to offer comfort and stay with the patient until the appropriate physicians come. This is my job. Let me do my job. Please.” Her request drifted to a broken whisper as she asked herself what she signed up for. 

-

“How is she?” he heard Gale’s voice like water in his ears after a pool day; garbled and incoherent. 

Nessa Dixon prided herself on being a strong woman, being able to handle anything that life threw her way. She was humbled. By the time the coroners retrieved the soldier’s body from the plane and her feet were planted on the ground, she was hunched over, coughing violently as she emptied all that was within her. The little strength she had left was fleeting and she hit the concrete with a thud. John dropped her backpack against the ground and raced toward her. He tapped the side of her face but she didn't respond. “I need a nurse!”

John hoisted the nurse in his arms and took long strides to the infirmary. “Exhausted. It was too much for her. Find a new nurse to be in the air or keep everyone ready on the ground, but she can’t handle what she saw up there.” The major brushed passed the slew of soldiers who watched in curiosity. Major John Egan carried Major Nessa Dixon, the most highly trained nurse, into the infirmary. What a contradiction. 

“What happened to her?” asked a familiar woman. Bessie. One of the lower-ranked nurses, but still a Lieutenant proven by the badge on her shirt, nonetheless. She plucked some gloves out of her pocket and slid them over her hands.

John met her light eyes, careful of his volume so as to not disrupt Nessa, though the likelihood of her waking up at the moment was slim. Lowly, he said, “My guess is shock. Exhaustion. She threw up and passed out as she stepped out of the plane. M’sure you have something for that.” 

The younger nurse nodded and instructed him to bring her to the nearest empty bed. Nessa hardly moved a muscle. John stood off to the side, giving the Lieutenant room to work. Bessie had a diagnosis within a few minutes. The answer was simple: shock and exhaustion. Nessa, along with the other nurses, had been working day and night with minimal rest and nutrition. The events on the plane were too much and her body shut down. 

“When will she wake up?” John questioned. Bessie shrugged. “I give it three days, max. She’s in a state of sedation without the medicine. When the body crashes, it needs adequate time to rest and recover. So, like I said, it could be within the next 24 to 72 hours. If she doesn’t wake up by then or stops breathing, she’d need to be transported to a hospital.” 

John’s stomach clenched. How was he reliving the same scenario he experienced not too long before? He ran a hand down his face and palmed his mouth. Through his fingers, he asked, “Can I stay with her at least?” 

Bessie’s lip turned upward as to smile just a little. She nodded once. “As long as you have the time, go for it. I may need you to leave during any extreme circumstances, but you’re permitted to stay. I’ll check in soon.” 

“Thank you, Lieutenant.” 

At that, Bessie smiled wider. Respect was easily granted with the 100th, she recognized, and she was thankful. “Anytime, Major.” 

-

She woke up 53 hours later. It was like she was pulled out of her body as she gasped and searched the room sporadically. The senior Major adjacent to her lowered the book in his hands and raised an eyebrow. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Her eyes moved slowly. 

“What happened?” God, she sounded awful. Without much thought, John grabbed the cup of water by his foot and handed it to her. The cup was empty within seconds. 

“Passed out. Been out for a little over two days, I guess. Yeah, 53 hours is two days and some change, right?” 

Panic rose like flames. Nessa sat up as quickly as her body would allow. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. From behind his book, John raised his eyebrow. “Sit down, Nessa.” 

She cut her eyes toward him. “I was out for 2 days! I can go do my job now.” 

“But you can’t.” John set his book beside him and crossed his arms with a shrug. “Out for two days. You haven’t even eaten, what are you going to do out there? Pass out again? You’ve got nurses out there to handle it, they’ll be fine.” 

Nessa inhaled deeply. Her eyes grew dark in frustration and her voice lowered as she thought about her words. “Telling me how to do my job is quite disrespectful, Major.” 

John leaned forward in opposition. She knew how to stand her ground, a skill that she had no choice but to learn in her field of work, especially since she worked with men. However, this was different. Her health was on the line. How could she want him to take care of himself yet refuse to do the same?

“And not knowing how to take a step back is disrespectful to yourself, Major. I suggest you get comfortable, Bessie will be here soon.” Once again, he grabbed his book and perched his feet on the edge of her bed. The low growl she released didn’t fall on deaf ears, but he chose to ignore it anyway. 

She’d be fine. Hopefully.

[officialclangen]

March Update!

March update is available on itch.io! Check out the changelog below:

New white patches: MAO, CHESTSPECK, PAINTED, WINGS, and BLACKSTAR.

Skin color now affects the inside of cats' ears.

New nylon collars - plus indigo and white variants of all color types.

You can now delete saved clans on the Switch Clan Screen.

New camp background: Grotto

New fading effect. Previously, cats became more transparent as they got closer to fading. This has been replaced with a three-stage "unraveling" effect.

Added many new kittypet and loner names.

Grief system has been expanded to give more unique death reactions based on the trait and mate status of the living cat.

New backstories!

"Bee sting", "headache", and "severe headache" are now potential injuries. "Persistent headaches" have been added as a permanent condition.

Lost cats can now return to the clan via moon events!

Lost cats can now die randomly, rather than just from old age.

New background for the Unknown Residence Screen.

Kittypets, loners, and rogues have a chance to appear in the "Cats outside the Clan" tab. These cats have a chance to join the clan during patrols.

Returning to the main menu or closing the game will now cause a pop-up window to appear, which will ask if you want to save your clan before proceeding.

Lots of new patrol art!

Added a setting to control the display of gore in patrol art. Gore is turned off by default.

New patrols!

Added a handful of new mediator moon events.

If there are no warriors that have trained apprentices in the clan, a random warrior will be selected to be deputy. A special event text will be displayed for this situation.

New scar system for patrols on Classic Mode.

Previously, a bug was preventing patrol outcomes that rely on traits or skills. This bug has been fixed. This doubles the amount of accessible patrol outcomes!

Allow more variety in tortie base colors, including ginger-on-ginger torties.

Many new ceremonies, including special ceremonies for dead mentors and parents.

The code for moon events has been rewritten to allow for more flexibility and utility.

The limit on mediating has been reworked. Each mediator may mediate once per moon, rather than a global "one mediate per moon" limit. However, a single pair of cats can only be mediated between once per moon.

Murder events are now affected by relationship values.

Moon events regarding other clans now trigger based on your relation with the other clan.

A variety of game-chances have been moved game_config.json, in the resources folder. This will allow players to more easily edit chances, if they desire.

Star is no longer a possible prefix for clanborn cats.

When a kittypet that has a multi-word name joins the clan, there is a chance for them to pick only one word from their previous name to use as their prefix.

Cats who cannot work are no longer eligible mentors for new apprentices.

Male tortie chance has been significantly lowered - they now occur at a similar rate to shinies in pokemon games.

Affairs now work!

Mediate will now correctly affect trust, romantic like, and platonic like.

Mediators and mediator apprentices will no longer retire due to permanent conditions.

Clicking on a cat on the family page will now take you to that cat's family page, allowing for easier scanning through family lines. You can still access their profile by shift-clicking.

Reduced age at which cats fade to 202 moons.

Chance to develop "Lasting Grief" has been reduced.

And many other bugfixes!

[simping-overload]

sampos tango

commission for @pickingpixel

First time writing smut! I like how it turned out.

summary: sampo manages to drag you into a naked wrestling tournament.

tags: dom/sub understones, naked wrestling, gay, male reader, bottom reader, top sampo, reader is not trailblazer.

word count: 2,759 | ao3 link

ヾthis is a multi-fandom blog that is designed for mlm/nbmlm identifying readers! so if you're female or fem alligened, please do not follow or interact with my mlm related post!! you will be blocked if you do not heed this warning ゛

You stare at the wrinkled flyer in your hand, rereading the headline for the 15th time. It an advertisement for a naked wrestling tournament? The contesents were allowed to do whatever they wanted with the opponent. Whoever wins gets a grand prize of 10,000 credits.

You look up at Sampo with a disgruntled look, "There is no way in hell I am doing this."

Sampo chuckles, slinging an arm around your shoulder, ignoring the way you sqirum under his touch. "Well, my dear, you don't have much of a choice. After all, you did lose the bet, and I have your agreement to it in writing." He says, wrapping himself further around you, pinning you to his chest. "We both know the things I can do to you if you try and back out."

He uses his other hand to tilt your head up towards him, the devious glint his eyes make the hairs on the back of your neck stand tall. You simply nodded your head to the forced agreement. His signature grin returns, and he realses you from his death grip of a hold.

Sampo clasps his hands together, "Wonderfull, my dear! Just make sure to be early. We wouldn't want you to be late after all." He turns on his heel, slipping back into the shadows, disappearing from view.

You stood there for a few more moments thinking things over. You didn't think that single simple piece of paper would have such a control over you. However, it would've been far worse if Sampo wanted it to be. You really need to stop associating yourself with him, even your colleagues, disprove of him.

They say you shouldn't trust him. He's a con artist, and he has so many enemies that probably will become yours one day. Although there's just something about him... probably just the charm of a con artist. He just seems like someone you want to keep close for whatever reason that may be.

You turn on your heel, heading into the direction of your home. Preparing for whatever shit shows you just got yourself into.

-

The place was swarming with over and underworlders alike, some you even recognized, but thankfully, none has recognized you yet. You make your way through the crowd, trying to get a glimpse of the blue hair con. For such a tall man, he is difficult to spot.

You approach the check-in desk, and there are two identical looking workers who seem to be nothing but tight boxer briefs and a name tag stuck to their muscled chest. They greet you in synch.

"Hi, I think I'm supposed to check in here? My names (Y/N) and I'm supposed to be one of the uh contestants." You managed to stammer out, trying not to get caught having your eyes anywhere but theirs.

The one on the left, Jax, begins scanning through the list while the other, Max, eyes you up and down.

"So, who dragged you into this? You don't look like you'd sign up for yourself willingly."

You sigh, shifting your weight, "I lost a bet, and I was wondering if a man named Sampo checked in? He's tall with blue hair."

Max nods and points behind you, "I think that's your guy."

Jax holds out a pen and paper out towards you, "Before you run off, we need you to sign this. It's just a consent form of what could happen during the matches."

You sign the papers quickly, thanking both of them before going to Sampo, who is leaning against a pillar scrollling in his phone. He seemed to notice your approach, making his way to you.

"Good to see you, my friend! Hope you're ready. " He grins, grabbing your hand and tugging you along with him. He brings you to what looks like to be a dressing room that only has empty hanging racks and a few of body oils spread along the counter.

Sampo clasps hands together, sly grin etched onto his face, "Well, for the first order of business, Strip."

This makes you choke on your own spit in surprise, "Can we at least go over how these rounds are gonna go and general rules too before you see me naked?"

"It's simple. It's elimination based. You defeat your opponents and climb your way up to victory. The matches are timed, so whoever is on the ground at the end loses." Sampo starts to explain and gestures to you to start removing your clothing.

You start with your shirt, shivering when the cold hair hits your skin. You slip off your shoes and socks, shivering more as your feet touch the cold tiles. While you're undoing your pants, you ignore how Sampos gaze falls on your crotch.

"I won't be participating in these matches. I won't be able to stop anyone from doing certain... things to you. So you need to make sure you dont allow anyone to get the upper hand." He places your shirt and pants on the counter, sliding your shoes and socks under.

You stop on the waist band of your boxers, nervous. You've never been naked in front of someone you knew personally. The only people that'd seen you naked are random hook-ups.

Sampo notices your hesitation, "If you're worried about being judged. Don't be. I've seen my fare share of dicks. I highly doubt yours will disappoint."

The comment made the blush on your face grow brighter. With a shakey breath, you slip out of your boxers.

"Well, that wasn't so bad. Was it? You're pretty decant size, too...nothing to be ashamed about."

"It's more embarrassing than bad, honestly. This is the first time I'll be naked in front of such a large crowd."

Sampo turns for a moment, grabbing a random bottle of body oil. "You'll be fine~ Most of the contesents are new to this too. No ones gonna judge you."

"Now, we have to smother this all over you, aside from your hands and feet, of course. Do you want to do it or me?" Sampo asks, leaning back in his chair, his eyes not so stubly trailing up your body.

"I'll do it, thanks, but you'll have to get my back. Also... I saw on the waver that people would try and have sex with their opponents? How would that even work. I thought these matches were timed." You ask, taking the bottle from his hand as you turn away from him. You put the oil on your hand, giving it a sniff. It was a subtle semll of coconut. At least you'll smell good.

"Yes, though, that matches are timed, 3 minutes each. If the pair starts to do the deed, they'll extend it to 5 so the audience can have a good show. You might even be able to see the audience getting off to it themselves. But if you're not going to do it, the matches stay the same, and as long as you have the person pinned down for a few seconds, you'll win."

You hummed, listening to him talk as you spread the oils on you. You start with the legs, making your way to your dick, quickly going over before pulling away and grabbing more oil.

You move to your torso and sides, lathering them up generously. You reach your shoulders when you feel bare hands lay themselves on your hips.

You freeze up for a moment, leaving your hands to rest on your tense shoulders. You don't even try to look up at Sampo as he begins to run his hands on your sides.

He rubs the oils into the skin even more, moving to drag the access on your lower back, dangerously close to your rear. He pulls his hand away for a meer second before pouring the oil on his hand and spreading it along your back.

The way his hands glide along your back, spreading the oils into every nook and cranny it can reach. You resist the urge to fall putty under his skilled hands.

It's a few more seconds before his hands leave your back. You nearly whined at the loss of contact.

A voice suddenly came over the rooms speakers, "All contestants, please make your way to the rink. You have 5 minutes."

You look at Sampo, who's just finished drying off his hand with an old rag. He makes his way to the door and beckons you to follow.

You follow him silently, keeping your gaze to the ground as you walk by the other naked contesents. You'd rather not get a face full of someone's junk.

You narrowly miss bumping into Sampo when he stops. Peaking out behind his large frame, you set your eyes on the wrestling ring. Stars, it was huge. So was the crowd.

If they were closer, you could've sworn they'd blown out your eardrums.

"Well, it's game time. Are you ready?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Good. Make sure to show them who they're dealing with. The most important thing to do is win. Just do that, and those credits are ours." Sampo grins, pushing your forward into the arena.

You go to stand next to the line of contesents. Head up tall, not letting your gaze leave the crowd.

With a few announcements from the host you couldn't bother focusing on, the matches has begun. You tap your foot in anticipation, snapping out of your trance when your name is called.

"(Y/N) and Kody, please come to the stage!"

You and a very burly man make your way up the ring. You shake hand before the match begins. He gets the first hit on you, making you quickly learn that he is top heavy. You dodge the next attempt to tackle you. Moving out of the way fats enough to grip the back of his neck and slam him on the ground, making sure to force your entire body weight onto him.

The referee calls it before you send off the ring, waiting for your turn again. Sampo was right about those who tried and sometimes succeeded in having sex. They even still had cum dripping out of their holes and dicks.

Your matches didn't last long, not long enough for someone to successfully grab your dick anyway.

You reach the end smoothly, standing on the back of your last opponent as the crowd chants your name.

The chant slowly dies down when a certain blue hair con artist makes his way to the rink, the spot light shining on his naked body.

The announcers cackle over the speakers, "You guys couldn't have thought that we weren't gonna end this without a bang. Now give it up for Sampo, one of our longest running contesents! Let's see if our new hotshot can win."

You step off of the man under you, staring at the blue-eyed bastard in front of you.

He grins mischievously, "I knew you'd make it this far. Now, let's see if you can make it past me."

You don't know what to say, thoughts getting interrupted as the referee begins the match. Sampo is quick to advance, throwing you against the borders of the ring, nearly making you fall through the ropes. He grabs you in a choke hold, pressing himself against you.

You claw and scratch at his arm, freezing for a split second when he rubs himself against you. You lean forward before quickly reversing and slamming into Sampo.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!"

You managed to get Sampo off his feet and back on the ground. Slipping out of the hold, you move to pin his arms down and attempt to pin his long legs with yours.

"Just having a little fun, of course. Plus, it looks like I'm not the only one getting excited." Sampo chuckles, looking down at your harden dick.

Your head snaps down, checking to see if it was true. By the time you processed the truth, you were flipped over by Sampo.

He pins your arms with one hand, using his other to hold your hip down. He rubs himself against your, agonizingly slow.

"Sampo..." You whimper, already getting worked up. You internally curse yourself for becoming undone so quickly. You attempt to create more friction by rubbing yourself against him but fail as the hand on your hips doesn't allow you to move.

Sampo grin doesn't falter, if anything it judt grows. He leans towards you, noses almost touching.

"Yes, my dear?" Sampo asks with a teasing tone.

"Please..." You whimper out, desprate for his touch.

"Please, what? You'll have to use your words. C'mon now .." Sampo uses his thumb to rub at the dips of your hips. As if trying to be encouraging.

Sampo gazes down at you, his eyes feel like they can see your soul.

"Please fuck me, Sampo."

Sampo chuckles, taking his hand off your hip, not minding the way you start grinding your dick against his. He cups your face and gives you a soft pat before slipping two of his fingers into your mouth.

"Be a good boy and get those all nice and wet. Don't leave it dry."

You obliged, eagerly sucking off his fingers. Some of your saliva dripped its way out of your mouth and onto the floor. Sampo moves to rub himself against you again. Instead of your dick he chooses to run himself underneath your balls, having a hunch that's one of the places that you're sensitive.

Indeed, your were, the muffled moan around his fingers made it clear. This causes a tiny bit of your precum to start to drip out of your tip.

Sampo gives his hand a slight tug, a small warning before pulling his drenched fingers away from your mouth.

He moves his hand downward towards your hole. He lines his finger up with it, looking up at you for confirmation. You nod quickly.

Throwing your head back when he pushes inside, your walls tighten around him. He thrusts it in and out, letting you get used to the feeling before adding the other.

He adds the second in, despite the tightness he manages to scissor and curl his fingers. At this point, you're a drooling mess. Not at all used to his heavenly feeling. You can feel that certain knot in your stomach tighten.

You look up at Sampo, pleading eyes displaying how desprate you are for him. "Sampo, please... I need you in me so bad."

Sampo is glad he deemed you stretched out enough to take him and the way you say his name makes him want to pound you into the ground.

He slips his fingers out, admiring your the way your hole clenches around nothing. He lines his dick up, pushing in slowly. Enjoying the way you tighten around him.

You moan loudly, fuck... he felt huge, making you feel so full and good already.

He bottoms you out, balls slapping against your ass. He relases your wrists from his hold, placing his hands on either side of your head as he looks at the stomach bulge and back up at you.

You press one of your hands down on the bulge, liking the way it shapes into your skin. Sampo takes this as the queue to begin moving.

He starts out slow and hard before gradually going faster. Soon, the only thing you can focus on is the way he keeps hitting your prostate perfectly.

He moves your legs, putting them into a matting press as he thrusts deeper. He dives down, catching his lips with yours. Swallowing the sound of the beautiful sounds you let out.

His thrusts start to become erratic and sloppy as he fucks you, a sign that he's reaching his peak. You are as well.

You wrap your arms around Sampo, pressing your forehead against his, your last clouded eyes lock with his. "Fuck, Sampo I gotta cum so bad."

"Yeah I do too, let's cum together yeah?"

You nod eagerly.

"1,2,3...fuck. Baby, you feel so good." Sampo groans out, realsesing his load into you, pressing right against your protaste as he does so. You cum in long spurts, it landing mostly on your chest but some on his aswell.

He slowly takes his dick out of you once he's finished. Letting your shakey legs back onto the mat. He kisses you once more, mumbling sweet praises as he rubs your thigh.

He looks up at the referee proud and carefree look on his face.

"The winner is: Sampo!"

[everybodyshusband]

deus in absentia ; chapter two

[previously known as: you're so goddamn frail]

rain/swiss (the band ghost)

explicit | m/m | 6.6k words (12.5k overall) | HURT/COMFORT, coming out, crying (so much crying), making up, pet names, so much LOVE, supportive as fuck swiss, anxiety, unreliable narrator rain

—the world's biggest thank you's are in order for @spoiledleaff who helped with a few sections that were giving me grief months and months ago and to @ghoultrifle who beta'd this whole chapter and has been far more enthusiastic about this whole thing than i ever expected anyone to be <3 and if we could all pretend that this chapter hasn't taken me over a year to write and publish that'd be GREAT ksnksjfdf i hope you all enjoy the fic as much as i've enjoyed writing it !!!

snippet and ao3 link under the cut !!

As time went on and the earth ghoul still hadn’t returned, Rain found that his eyes kept flicking back to the plant mischievously, tempted to pour at least some of his water into the pot, just to see if Mountain would really notice, or if the earth ghoul was just using Rain’s lacking knowledge of earth ghoul magick to his advantage. Unfortunately for Rain’s ever-present sense of mischief, the calmer and at least vaguely rational side of him told him to suck it up and finish the glass; if not to avoid the worsening of his headache, then at least to avoid Mountain’s inevitably disappointed shake of his head. He drained the remaining water in the glass and set it on a side table, more than happy to wait by himself for however long it took Mountain to come back. Before he had the chance to sit with himself for very long however, the sound of running footsteps in the hallway startled him. Excitement sparked in him at the thought that Mountain would be back so soon, along with confusion as to why the earth ghoul would be running to return now that he knew Rain was safe. When he heard a voice call out however, it wasn’t Mountain’s.

“Rain? Baby?”

Rain froze, heart beating as his breath caught in his throat and unshed tears began to sting at the corners of his eyes. Not now. Please not now.

Not when he’d just started to feel better.

“There you are, mi renacuajo.” Rain turned his head towards the door slowly, inhaling sharply at the sight of Swiss standing there, breathing heavily, a relieved smile on his face for having found his love. “I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you, Rainy.” Rain could feel his chest heaving faster and with less and less rhythm the more Swiss talked. No matter how hard he tried to control his breathing, his body shook with the force of it and the tears were now threatening to spill down his cheeks.

The second Swiss noticed this however, the smile dropped off his face, immediately replaced by a concerned slant to his mouth and a worried furrow of his eyebrows as he scanned Rain up and down, no doubt taking in the signs of distress. He walked over and crouched on the floor in front of Rain, careful to avoid contact with the water ghoul. “Are you– Are you alright?”

Rain opened his mouth to tell Swiss he was fine, to tell him not to worry, to tell him to go away and leave him alone, but all that came out was a choked sob. Once he started crying again, Rain quickly realised he couldn’t stop himself. It wasn’t the multi ghoul’s fault, it never was, but the sight of Swiss had brought back every single turbulent emotion Rain had been experiencing that day. Despair and dysphoria washed over him knowing that Swiss would, inevitably, say the wrong thing and there was nothing the water ghoul could do about it. This was only followed by waves of worthlessness that took immense delight in reminding Rain that he’d be able to stop these horrible situations if only he could suck it up and tell swiss; if only he could stop being so fucking pathetic. At Mountain’s appearance, Rain had thought the worst of his day was over, but now, with Swiss’ return and remnants of his thoughts from earlier coming back in full force, he wasn’t so sure.

Who was Rain to keep such sensitive information about himself, one of the multi ghoul’s packmates, a secret from him? Who was he to use Swiss as a means of making himself feel worse without his knowledge; to force the multi ghoul to fuck him while neglecting to tell him the full details of Rain’s situation and identity? And who was he to be able to do nothing but cry at the mere sight of Swiss, his friend; his partner? He wasn’t even able to pull himself together enough to pretend he was fine, to relieve Swiss of his worries and reassure him that he’d done nothing wrong. Sathanas, Rain was a fraud. A burden. How dare he let himself break down like this in front of Swiss? All he had to do was smile, hold back the tears, and nod serenely in order to convince the multi ghoul that he was okay.

So why couldn’t he just do that?

[read the rest on ao3 !!]

[matchibee]

A Web of Their Own Design (pt. 5)

the plot is thickening, I promise everything has a purpose. semi-proof read, i’m lazy but with standards.

"Hobie, I..." Words refused to string together, simple tasks burdensome, impossible. You didn’t know where your words would begin nor where they’d end, the possibility of bringing unseen experiences to the front of your mind troubling.

Hobie seemed acutely attentive, looking to you with remorse, dropping himself onto one knee, hands shoved into the pockets upon his multi-patched jacket. He look to you critically, scanning your features, not missing a single detail. Once he condemned them to memory, to past experiences — heart rate, pupil dilation, breathing habits — he only had one thing to tell you. The one thing he had to tell you to make everything feel a semblance of what it was. Even if it never would be, never could be.

"You don't need to say it, I know."

What did he know? You thought to the context, the way you must appear to the external. It would be obvious to anyone with a pair of eyes, let alone spider senses, you were going through some type of turmoil. Whether it be of your own design or from the outside was unclear, at least to the untrained eye. And then a thought seemed to plague you, encapsulating you in only blackness — a shadow — as you pondered upon what he’d said. Why he’d said it.

He knew as in he knew the situation, the network that connected the various Spiders keeping him informed? Or had Hobie been exposed to enough losses he'd become desensitized; developing a meter for grief? You know? "You do?" You were skeptical.

"It's a fucked up world — universe — multiverse that we live in, man. It ain't fair, not right that we have to live like this and simply accept it."

You replied through tears, "The canon event shit?"

"The entire thing! Why should we be expected to devote our lives, ourselves, to fighting crime? We lose our reason, loved ones; all what for what?What have they — those institutions that created us, forced us into this life — ever done for us besides condemn us, wanting us gone?”

He’d gone onto an entire tangent and you’d simply allowed him to, sitting wordlessly as he was as expressive as ever — without or without the mask — Hobie was as theatrical as they came. Even if his words were correct, even if they struck a chord.

“We’re a pawn to their game, to the people. Working with those blokes that want us dead, yeah? Damn those cops... Damn them all." Hobie slumped beside you, maintaining his distance, moral support in his own mouth fully wordless way — the only way he knew how.

You didn’t know what to say, could only discern his words from a surface level of understanding. How badly you knew he was correct, how diligently you worked to keep thoughts of grief below the surface.

"About this uh... Anomaly? When did you detect it?" You choked out your words, throat dry, lips cracked. A fish out of water. Tears so far gone your body had deprived you of the nectar of life.

"Don't trouble yourself with that," Hobie stood to his feet, back slouched, boots pattering against hardwood flooring, "I'll contact Bossman, let him know the deal. He can handle it. Big man, that one."

This was your job. Your place in the multiverse. If you weren’t there to be the Spider to your people, to those that relied on your protection; what were you?

You’d lost your sense of self, sense of reason. Everyday you seemed to stray further from yourself and closer to this persona you’d created. Were you a person with their own life? A Spider whose life revolved around others?

Besides, you didn't want Miguel to have to handle it, extending himself too far, just like you’d done these past — fuck, how long had you been a hero, again? He tended to an infinite number of multiverses, doing his best to control outbreaks as they presented themselves, the best interest of the people in mind.

He didn't want to see innocent people overrun with malice, neither did you.

Even if Hobie wouldn't admit it, he didn't want that, either.

"Grief can put itself on hold," Could it really? You'd hardly begun the grieving process when Hobie showed up rearing for a fight. The loss of a life, friendship, multiple. Anyone would be rendered bedridden for the next few weeks, months. To know that such transgressions could’ve been prevented if only they’d been there? An eternity.

Spiders didn't have that luxury, not in this life, nor the next. Even if you pushed the thoughts and responsibilities away, they'd forever persist. It was your responsibility divined by the multiverse, a vessel chosen to bare the responsibility, a web that required your attention.

You couldn't break away without running the risk of severing its fickle connections. All it took was a single moment, a stroke of bad luck, and your universe would cease to exist.

You couldn't allow such transgressions to occur. If not for yourself, for the people who would lose their lives to a premature death.

"If there's an anomaly I should be there to deliver it from evil."

"Nobility doesn't suit you, not now."

Hobie was slowly but surely breaking down your walls in an attempt to rebuild you, mold you into someone capable of living for themselves rather than the people — it was your fatal flaw, the reason you lost so much in such little time — incapable of keeping up with the personas of daily life.

Spider. Sibling. Lover. Child.

You couldn't have it all, couldn't remember special occasions, finding them pushed further into the back of your mind as crime picked up during the holidays. Presents gone unwrapped, piling up in the corner of your apartment, holiday cards unopened. They only wanted to see you, make sure their darling child was alright.

Spider. Sibling. Lover.

Love didn't work for a Spider, time too inconsistent, intimate moments disrupted by the cruel reality of crime. Scrapes and bruises impossible to hide as wandering hands traversed the most delicate parts of sensitive skin, lies only deepening the rift between love and like.

Spider. Sibling.

Eventually they grew tired of lies, tired of an identity you work diligently to hide. The person who once ate sand alongside you now spat words of malice, siding with a parent stricken with grief, fearing they might lose someone of their own fruition. Siblings are fickle, fights breaking out for the smallest of instances. Usually they're simple to remedy, an ice cream cone and a shove, but not this time.

Spider.

The only thing that remained consistent.

The reason everything was unable to coexist.

The only thing you had left.

Hobie had tracked the anomaly to central Newer York, the two of you discovering nothing out of the ordinary upon your arrival, the typical hustle and bustle of the working class's evening, returning home to adoring families, perhaps none at all.

Multiverse knows you had nothing to return to.

From damn-near thin air Hobie produced the small spider surveillance mechanism Lyla had taught you to use, the AI a whisper away in the dead of the night — a cheeky conversationalist if you entertained her, but your experience was far from first-hand.

Things change.

"Miguel wants to know if you two were successful in apprehending the anomaly." She fluttered at your shoulder, craning her to look you in the eyes — spider-eyes, but eyes nonetheless.

"Not particularly...?"

"I'll let him now."

"No!" You and Hobie were quick to shout in a succinct unison, terrifying you, a shiver running down your spine. You continued before the Spider-Punk, "I'd rather do this of our own voilition, y'know? Learn the ropes without a teacher breathing down my neck?"

"I completely understand," Your breath stilled, Hobie extending his fist, your own colliding with boney knuckles. "Unfortunately, I've already contacted him."

"Lyla!" Hobie shouted, running his palms down his mask. "Why would you do that to us, man! Way to kill the vibe!"

"Matar la vibra?"

Your backs grew rigid, Hobie swatting at you, wordlessly telling you to turn around, greet the man. You did the same, if not with more force, Miguel the one to inevitably deliver you from your silent argument.

Claws gripped where your suit pooled around your neck, raising you to the air like a cat to its infant, looking between the both of you with a scrutinous gaze. "Some maturity, children. I'm not a babysitter."

You crossed your arms over your chest, mumbling something under your breath, Miguel humming in prompt to continue.

"I'd appreciate if you'd stop calling me that."

"I'll call you whatever I want until I believe you deserve a different title, niño."

"I'm not a child."

Hobie furrowed his brows, "You speak Spanish?"

You tossed your hand back and forth, so-so, "Highschool Spanish, you can fill in the blanks."

"Teach me."

"Enough!" Miguel dropped you on your asses, your hand flying to rub at your tailbone, wincing. "Did you two spot the anomaly, or not."

“Or.”

You snickered at Hobie’s response, elbowing him at his side, Hobie responding with the same. Miguel from his spot above you, shoulders tensed and stare running like a chill down your spine, was far from amused.

"Doesn't appear to be showing up on my scanner." Hobie replied in a mumble, displaying his watch for Miguel to view, looking anywhere except the man above him.

The man groaned, turning to you. "Nothing?"

You nodded your head, smacking the watch with your palm for good measure, hoping to get some sort of reaction out of it. "Hey!" Miguel snatched your wrist, holding it his chest. "Sensitive technology, cabrón. Don't handle it like your toys."

You huffed, attempting to pull yourself free, Miguel smirking from above you. "You don't know how I play with my toys," Raising your mask to stick out your tongue, Miguel was thoroughly stunned, releasing you from his grasp.

He clicked his tongue, "toñto."

The three of you decided it was in your best interest to part ways for the time being, scouring the streets for the supposed anomaly, not a trace of where they could've gone in sight. As far as files had gone, Lyla nagging you with information as you wandered the streets, you were dealing with someone who had the ability to camouflage in some form, rendering it impossible for them to be picked up on the scanners. Perhaps an ability of invisibility, but you couldn’t be sure.

It was as though they'd vanished entirely, flat off the face of your universe, but according to your cumulative watches, a disturbance still persisted.

What could it be?

"Spider!" A voice you hadn't heard in a few days called out to you, blonde ribbons filling your vision, "Been a minute, hasn't it? How are you holding up?"

You smiled beneath the mask, grateful for simple conversation that didn't entail work. "I find I'm doing well, Officer. I hope I'm not under arrest?"

Hunter waved his hand, smiling at you with a roll of his eyes, "No way! Captain Perez is mental if he thinks I'm arresting the city's protector."

"I wouldn't call myself a protector, per say."

"Oh I would," Hunter approached you, taking your hands in his own, finger circling your palm. "I've been a diligent observer of your work for quite some time, Spider. You started this business when I was only a freshman, and so were you!"

"How do you know how..."

"I keep a close eye on the things I like. And you? I like you the most!"

The interaction had gone from wholesome to horrifying in a mere matter of seconds, a nervous laugh preceding your attempt at escape, finding his grip around your wrist tightened. "What I wouldn't give to see the face beneath the mask..." A hand detached from your wrist, snaking up the back of your head, "I promise Captain Perez would be none the wiser... Just a peek?"

You tensed, hands against the man’s wrists, squeezing in an effort to get away. Why was it that when you believed someone to have your best interests at heart, they always seemed to prove you wrong?

You couldn’t meet anyone as a Spider without them yearning for who lied beyond the mask, admiration be damned. You couldn’t get close to anyone as yourself, breaking bonds to protect what remained of your connection, losing everything in the end.

And isolation persisted once more.

You mustered all your strength to push against him, the officer stumbling a good few paces backwards before looking to you in astonishment, rejection. "Spider, I didn't mean..."

"Do yourself a favor and keep your hands off 'em." Hobie stood beside you, arm latching around your neck as he rested his weight against you, free hand pointing to the officer. "They ain't interested, man. Take a hint."

"Oh, you misunderstand!” He shook his hands in front of his face, “I'm merely an admirer, a bystand—“

Miguel seemed to manifest from nothing, towering over Hunter, hands to his hips, deviously smirking beneath the mask "Admiration can be done from afar."

Hunter took the hint, hobbling away, leaving you without so much as a wave of his hand. You breath stilled, hand pressed to your chest as you registered what had just occurred. "Thanks for the assist, Hobie. Really saved my a—"

Miguel interrupted you, "Language."

"Ass."

Miguel clicked his tongue, departing from the both of you, continuing his surveillance of the nearby area. There had to be something you were missing, something Layla had failed to debrief, and he would sooner keel over in a heap of webs than admit defeat — admit the anomaly had breached the confines of your universe.

"I wasn't the one to suggest assistance. Quite frankly, I wanted to see how it'd play out." Hobie had his hands in his pockets, walking at your side as the both of you scanned for something, anything.

You were perplexed, looking up at him as though he were speaking a foreign language, grown a second head. "Then who—"

"Who’d ya think?

taglist: @coralineyouareinterribledanger (never done a taglist before so lmk if u wanna be added) :)

[psalacanthea]

Vampires, Romance, and Other Dead Things- Ch. 7

a new chapter in the Modern AU astarion x drow bard tav story found HERE! Having set up a counter-ambush to an anticipated attack from the other vampire spawn, now all Zyn has to do is drag his ass onstage. He promised Shadowheart one live show, and afterward they'll draw out the servants of Astarion's mysterious vamp daddy.

But Zyn's used to working alone, and it's starting to cause problems.

...

Certain the Harpers were shadowing her, she’d found a back street that didn’t look like it would damage too much if there was to be a scuffle here.  Between a half-dozen old buildings converted into multi-housing units there was an empty lot.  There was a No Excavation notice on one of the walls, which explained why it was here.  Seemed like this place was over one of the many dangerous structures under Baldur’s Gate.

Maybe caves.  Or a drop into the Undercity, like the place by hers she’d dumped Aradin’s corpse down.  A scan showed no convenient dumping spots, however.  A broken stone bench, a lot of weeds, and a few bags of garbage.

“Hey Vamp Juniors,” she called, stepping dead-center between the buildings, gazing up at the sky.  How funny would it be if they were up there, being trailed by invisible Harpers?  Stupid vampires.  “I’m here for my money!  My friends are bringing your guy!”

She stood with her hands in the pockets of her jacket, feeling arrogant enough to do it.  They’d cobbled together a pretty good trap.  No way they’d figure it out.

“Didn’t you refuse the offer?  We were told to get rid of you,” an unfamiliar voice said from the shadows, snide and superior.

He walked out of the shadows with another vampire beside him, scarlet eyes glowing, casual upscale bar look slightly impeded by the…well, by the face.  And the hair.  They hair was the worst, really, with the poofing, and the– well, it looked like a guy with straight hair had tried to make his look kind of like Astarion’s.

His face also gave that impression, weirdly enough.

Budget Astarion.

Creepy, but also triggering to…certain instincts enhanced by her having reached out and touched misfortune.  “I don’t make it a habit to speak with men, they’re too lacking in reason and emotional control.”  She turned her attention to the vampire next to him, tiefling woman with scarlet skin.  Glowing eyes.  Hopefully it meant the vamp daddy could…see out of their eyes or something.

She wanted him to watch.

Angry.

“Do you want him or not?” she asked, noting movement out of the corner of her eye.  A trash can lid, jostled, fell to the ground with a thud.  Bad luck for them.  There were more than two of them, for sure.  “And if you try to sneak behind me , I’ll teleport to the roof and fireball this space, so you can either get out here or you can get crispy.”

“Clumsy,” the elven vamp said, voice high and mocking.  Almost childish.  Okay, maybe she wasn’t the one to speak to.  “Sister Dalyria, isn’t that embarrassing for you?”

“Violet, stop,” Great Value Astarion said.

“I was sympathizing.  Everyone’s always picking on me,” Violet pouted, crossing her arms under her breasts.

Zyn couldn’t tense up as two more vamps stalked out of the shadows– a wistful-looking elven woman and the long-haired shirtless guy from before.  Four was still doable.  They were fine.  “Okay, so I can see the tropes we’re going with her.  Insane child vampire was always a favorite of mine.  Bet you’ve got all sorts of creepy dolls!”

Violet glared at her.

“But I can’t quite place you.  Comic relief?”  she suggested to badly-cloned Astarion.

“Can we kill the prattling bitch, already?” he asked, scoffing and taking a step back.

All of their attention shifted, fast as a hastened monk, as the sound of voices started echoing from where Zyn had come from.  All five of them stood poised in silence as the voices and footsteps came closer, people finally emerging from the alley.  Astarion was being carried over Karlach’s shoulder.

Through the high of bullying, Zyn felt a tingle of amusement.  Of course he’d made Karlach carry him.  What a bitch.

“Got him secured?”  Zyn called.

“Put me down, you brute~” Astarion called with posture still completely relaxed, voice lilting a little too theatrically.  She wouldn’t be surprised if his cheek was propped up in his hand.  

How was he a bad liar, on top of everything?

The man was in politics!

[hometoursandotherstuff]

As if the ultra rich aren’t aggravating enough, a Swiss company called Oppidum Bunkers, creates luxury underground bunkers for the elite. 

The 1,000 sq. m. (10,764 sq. ft.) structures are designed to go underneath mansions and are optimized for a super-luxury everyday lifestyle, while prepared for all surface threats.

Bunkers will be accessed through a luxury car garage. The airlock is guarded by 2 blast doors, with the outer door controlled by a multi-biometric reader that simultaneously scans face, iris, palm and fingerprints.

15 meters (49ft.) below ground you have the luxuries of home. It has an airlock that has been fully equipped as a decontamination chamber, plus an indoor garden, a fitness space, medical room, comfortable living and sleeping areas.

You get storerooms with long-lasting & nutritious foods. Oh, and you can use the unit in ordinary peace time, too, b/c it has 2 different air filtration systems (one’s military grade and lets in no fresh air).

No need to stop business- you have a board room. 

Oppidum takes an ‘optimistic view’ of the world, but believes it’s ‘wise’ to be prepared for unforeseeable and unpreventable events, so you can protect what matters most.

You get a freshwater, as well as, a saltwater pool.

In the ‘inner garden,’ flowers and plants are sustained by sophisticated automatic irrigation. Through full-light spectrum simulation, the sun rises and sets and the seasons change in the skylight overhead.

This is a secure gallery to protect art. The secret gallery is extremely secure, meeting the strictest insurance company criteria.

The home cinema. 

Diesel generator in case of a power outage. (But what if you run out of diesel fuel?)

It’s all designed for living in extreme conditions.

This is NASA level technology, according to the company.  Oppidum’s bunkers are available in the EU, UK, USA and UAE.

https://metro.co.uk/2022/09/17/swiss-firm-to-build-apocalypse-proof-fortified-bunkers-for-the-elite-17394338/

[sw5w]

Rear of the Hangar

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:58:56

[hamsterclaw]

Tag

You met Jungkook years ago, when you were a rookie cop and he was brought in for defacing public property. Now he's an established artist, and a chance encounter brings you together.

Pairing: Jungkook x F! reader

Genre: Non-idol AU, graffiti artist JK, smut, angst

Rating: 18+

Word count: 8.8k

Warnings: Illegal graffiti, explicit sex, explicit language

Your uniform, brand-new, feels noisy. Like the crispness of the fabric is screaming to the people in this busy police station: Look here! Fresh out of the academy!

Maintain control of the situation, comes the voice of your mentor, Hwang.

It’s followed quickly by the voice of your best friend, Nara, raised in a loud screech.

Sexxxxxxxy! When she’d seen you in your uniform for the first time.

You look doubtfully at the guy you’ve been instructed to book.

He’s sprawled across a line of chairs nailed to the floor, hair hanging in his eyes, stains on his white t-shirt, scuffed sneakers on his feet. Oversized jeans, baggy jacket.

‘Jeon Jungkook,’ you say, trying to inject authority into your voice, act like you book people all the time instead of it being your first time.

He looks up at you, and for a moment of panic you think he’s not going to bother to get up and follow you.

Shit, what do you do then?

To your relief he gets up and sits in front of the desk.

He seems willing enough to co-operate, confirming his personal details (he’s barely older than you), letting his fingerprints be scanned (no match), but when it’s time to search him, there’s a spark of something wicked in his eyes.

This, at least, you know how to deal with.

‘You have a choice,’ you say, trying to sound bored, just about succeeding.

‘You can let me search you, or you can let Sung Joon search you.’

You tilt your chin to your six-foot tall built like a brick wall colleague.

Wordlessly, Jeon Jungkook takes his jacket and shoes off, holding his arms out.

Your hands are patting down his torso when he grunts.

‘Those are my abs,’ he says. His voice is completely neutral.

‘Thanks,’ you reply, just as neutral.

You’re kneeling in front of him, when your supervisor comes into the room.

‘Have you finished? Not yet? Good.’

You’re looking at him, quizzical, when he turns to the man in front of you.

‘Get out of here,’ he says.

Jungkook picks up his jacket, shoves his feet into his shoes, and walks out without a backwards look.

‘There’s been a multi-victim stabbing,’ is all your supervisor says. ‘Get back to the front desk.’

***

You wave goodbye to your colleague who’s just taken over at the desk and walk out into the coolness of dawn.

You’re scrolling through your music, searching for a song you want to listen to, when there’s movement out of the corner of your eye.

A flash of white, the rustle of clothing.

It’s your friend with abs Jeon Jungkook.

‘Can I listen?’ he asks.

‘Nah,’ you reply, shooting him a look, putting your earbuds in.

He falls into step alongside you.

‘Dangerous to walk alone at this time, in this neighbourhood,’ he says, and you hear him perfectly despite the supposed noise-cancelling tech of your earbuds.

‘Who’s in danger, Jeon Jungkook?’ you ask.

You pull out an earbud and pass it to him. His fingertips as he takes it are cool, a little frisson of excitement shooting across your skin from his touch.

He listens in silence.

This close, his hips bump yours intermittently. You find yourself liking the height difference between you, the breadth of his chest you had your hands on when you were frisking him earlier.

‘This you?’ he asks, when you come to a stop in front of your door.

The sun’s just beginning to come up, but there’s enough darkness you feel brave enough to say, ‘Yeah. Wanna come up?’

Jungkook laughs a little, keeps you waiting long enough that you’re about to turn away, before he’s following you in the door, across the entryway, up the stairs to your tiny one-bedroom.

You feel his eyes on your ass the whole time.

As soon as the door clicks shut behind him he’s on you, lips crashing onto yours hungrily.

His skin is hot, sticky, with smudges of dirt where he’s been roughed up tonight. He smells faintly of sweat but you like it.

He’s rough, crumpling your wilted uniform in his hands, tugging it off you. You help him, shimmying your trousers off, kicking your shoes off, keeping your socks on.

He smirks at the strawberries on your ankle socks. ‘Cute,’ he says.

He snaps your bra strap, unmindful of your sound of protest.

‘Off,’ you say, worried you’re not going to get to see the body that you got to feel earlier.

He lifts his shirt over his head, then puts his hands on his belt.

‘We doing this?’ he asks, tilting his head, looking at you.

You tear your eyes away from the tattoos on his shoulder and chest.

‘I’ll get a condom,’ you say.

He follows you into your bedroom, somehow also shedding the rest of his clothes on the way.

You’re not expecting softness, not at all, so it takes you by surprise when he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You get on the bed with him, rolling over on the sheets. He’s not fully hard yet, but you can feel him pressing against your centre, insistent, as he hooks a leg over you to put you fully underneath him.

God, he’s stunning.

He’s spitting into his hand, shoving his fingers under your panties to touch your cunt. You shimmy your panties down because there’s not enough room for his big hand otherwise.

He groans when he feels your arousal. ‘Feels good,’ he tells you.

‘Get inside me,’ you say, mouthing at his neck, hands over his ass.

‘Wait,’ he says, as you tear open the condom. ‘Get me wet.’

He goes up on his knees, tapping his cock against your lips.

You open your mouth to take him in.

He doesn’t fit, not all of him, and he hisses as you press him against the roof of your mouth.

His hand tightens in your hair, but he doesn’t push you down.

You’re struggling to take all of his thick length in when he taps your head.

You pull back and roll the condom down his heavy cock.

He pushes you back, rough again, and is in you in one smooth movement.

‘Fuck,’ you cry. You weren’t quite wet enough, but the burn’s so good you don’t care.

He laughs, darkly, and pulls out only to plunge into you again. He thumbs your clit, worrying it over and over, humming his approval as your cries get louder, higher, more breathless.

‘Didn’t think I’d have you kneeling in front of me twice in one night,’ he tells you.

Your eyes flash and you open your mouth to snap at him but he snaps his hips and strokes his thumb over your clit and what comes out instead is a wail.

He grabs your hips, holding you still, holding you hard as he fucks you both to orgasm.

He pants as he pulls out of you, holding the condom taut over his softening cock.

He ties it off and tosses it carelessly into a corner.

He sits up on the edge of the bed, his back to you.

Even like this, he’s beautiful.

You wince a little as you sit up and grab clothes from the armchair by your bed.

‘What public property were you destroying?’ you ask, referring to why he was brought into the station.

‘I wasn’t destroying it,’ he replies.

You look at the back of his head and sigh.

‘Want a drink?’ you ask.

He turns to look at you, hair hanging in his eyes. You resist the urge to push it back.

‘Sure.’

He leaves when you’re in the shower, and if it weren’t for your uniform crumpled in a heap near your couch and the empty glass on your kitchen counter, it’d be like he was never there.

***

You’re walking through the park with your partner, Minjun, on a night shift.

Minjun turns to you. ‘I gotta take a leak.’

‘Gross,’ you reply.

He rolls his eyes at you. ‘Meet you at the park entrance.’

You cut through a tunnel.

The first thing you see as your eyes adjust to the relative darkness is a man standing next to the wall.

Jeon Jungkook’s leaning against the wall at the end of the tunnel, hands in his pockets.

‘Are we going to have a problem here?’ you ask.

He shrugs. ‘I like staying out of trouble.’

You walk through the tunnel, noticing the smell of fresh paint, the gleam of wet on the wall.

You look at the wall he’s standing next to.

There’s a set of claws, and next to it, a throw-up in bubbled block letters, the initials JJK.

You look at Jungkook.

He’s got the audacity to smirk at you.

‘What a coincidence,’ you remark. ‘That you’re here in the middle of the night, standing next to fresh graffiti done by someone with the exact same initials as you.’

Jungkook’s grinning now, and your traitorous heart flutters at how handsome he is.

You shake your head as you walk past him.

‘Jungkook,’ you say.

‘Yeah?’ he asks.

‘There’s paint on your cheek.’

You turn just in time to see him swiping a paint-stained hand against his face.

***

You’re at the end of your first month in the police force, getting the hang of things, feeling less and less like you’re pretending, when you see him again.

He startles you on your way home after a day shift, stepping out from the darkness between houses like the shadowy figures you’ve always been taught to fear.

‘Hey,’ he says. ‘What’s your name?’

You have to laugh.

He waits.

You tell him.

He falls into step next to you.

‘I asked about you,’ he tells you. ‘At the station.’

‘Yeah?’ you ask, not really believing him.

‘Yeah. I asked, who’s the new girl with the ass tattoo.’

You laugh again. ‘Fucking hell.’

Jungkook’s crooked smile is oddly endearing. You’ve always had a thing for rough boys.

‘I’m gonna grab noodles from this place,’ you say, gesturing vaguely. ‘You want to come with?’

He hesitates.

‘I’m not asking you to dinner, Jungkook. I’m gonna pick them up and take them home to eat.’

He doesn’t say anything, but keeps walking with you.

You pick up extra noodles for him at a stall you used to go to with your mother and head back home.

You eat in silence.

He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave after you finish eating, so you say, ‘Want me to blow you?’

His eyes darken as you kneel between his legs.

You unbutton the fly of his jeans, admire the length of him through the cotton of his briefs.

His abs twitch under your hand as you draw him out. You bury your face in his groin, nosing into the dark hair at the base of his cock.

He sighs out a breath, long, slow, as you lick up the underside of his cock.

He’s hardening as you kiss him, getting thicker, longer. His hand undoes your uniform top, exposing the plain bra you wear to work.

It’s not sexy by any stretch, but he seems to like it. His hand cups your breast, thumbing over your nipple, getting it to stand at attention for him.

He’s fully hard now. You let saliva pool in your mouth so it’s wet like he likes it as you take him in. The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you swallow.

You cup his balls, and the whine he lets out encourages you.

He’s gasping and whining now, breath coming out jerky as his rigid cock slides in and out of your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag on him.

‘Fuck,’ he moans, just as you feel the warmth of him spurt into your mouth.

You swallow him down until he’s hissing at the oversensitivity, squeezing your breast hard enough to bruise.

You lap at the last pearl of cum as it oozes out his slit, and he laughs then. ‘Fuck. Dirty girl.’

‘Tastes good,’ you tell him.

You get up, rubbing at your knees.

‘We good, JK?’ you ask.

He’s already tucked himself back into his jeans.

‘We’re good, Y/N,’ he says.

You head to the shower, and just like before, he’s gone by the time you come out.

***

You’re out with your best friend Nara, celebrating your new jobs.

Nara nudges you, none-too-subtly.

‘Three o’clock, checking you out,’ she says.

Nara’s got a boyfriend, a man she’s been dating for the past year, and she’s made it her life’s work to inform you of any man who might potentially be checking you out whenever you go out together.

You don’t turn. ‘Is it even worth turning my head?’ you ask.

‘He’s hot,’ Nara says.

You raise an eyebrow at Nara and turn your head to look straight into the now-familiar brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook.

You can’t stop the smile across your face as you turn back to Nara.

‘I know him,’ you tell her.

‘And?’ she asks.

‘I booked him.’

Nara grimaces. ‘What did he do? He does look like the type to hold up a convenience store.’

You burst out laughing. ‘You said he was hot a second ago.’

‘Shit! Incoming.’

Nara bumps shoulders with you as you turn to look up at Jungkook.

‘Get you a drink?’ he asks.

Nara hadn’t been wrong. Jungkook does look hot tonight, in a shirt with one too many buttons undone, silvery earrings, hair that looks like someone’s been running their fingers through it.

‘Ah, there’s Hyun Woo,’ Nara says, tilting her head as her boyfriend approaches.

‘Catch you in a bit, Y/N?’

You bite back a smile at her obviousness.

‘Sure. See you in a bit, my love.’

You follow Jungkook to the bar.

‘Is your friend a cop too?’ Jungkook asks.

‘No, but she’s pretty scary when she’s mad,’ you reply.

Jungkook laughs. ‘Her boyfriend looks pretty tough too.’

‘So don’t mess with us,’ you say.

Jungkook laughs again, passing you your drink.

‘What have you painted recently?’ you ask.

‘The side of a fancy office building, a train carriage, another underpass,’ Jungkook replies.

You laugh. ‘I’m off duty, but I’m still a cop,’ you tell him.

Jungkook just smiles. ‘Want to see?’

Which is how you end up in the financial district of the city, looking up at a mural spanning one side of an otherwise nondescript office building.

It’s centred around a skull with dollar signs in the hollows where the eyes would be, the familiar bubble letters with his tag along the bottom right corner.

He’s undeniably talented.

‘How did you have the time to do all this without someone noticing?’ you ask.

He shrugs. ‘I’ve been experimenting with stencils.’

‘Ever thought about putting your work to canvas?’ you ask.

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ Jungkook asks.

He looks down at you, hair in his eyes, lips curved in a smile, and asks, ‘Can I take you home?’

***

The next morning, you’re locking your front door on the way out to work when you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

It’s a beautiful pink and white cherry blossom spray painted on the wall of the building next to yours, and underneath it, Jeon Jungkook’s distinctive tag.

It makes you smile all the way to work.

***

Nara and you have made plans to watch the new season of a series you both love.

Nara’s sprawled on your couch, looking through the skincare face masks you’re going to put on whilst watching, when your doorbell buzzes.

You open the door to Jungkook.

He looks at you, at your fluffy bathrobe, the headband holding your hair back.

The corner of his mouth twitches slightly.

‘My friend Nara is over,’ you tell him. ‘We’re watching TV. You can come up if you want?’

Jungkook looks like he’s considering it.

‘There’s food,’ you say, trying to sway him.

‘Nah,’ he says, finally. ‘I’ll catch you another time.’

You’re watching him walk back down the street when something occurs to you.

‘Hey,’ you call.

Jungkook turns around but doesn’t come any closer.

You’re grabbing a piece of scrap paper, scribbling your number on it.

You hold it out to him.

‘You can call me, if you want,’ you tell him.

He looks down at the paper, and for a moment you think he’s just going to ignore it.

He must see something in your eyes, because he takes it, shoving it into his pocket.

Then he’s turning around, leaving you in the street watching him go.

***

You’re jolted awake by your door buzzer, insistent.

Disoriented, you scramble for your phone to check the time.

3am.

Your buzzer sounds again.

You grab your old hockey stick and head for the door.

‘Who is it?’ you call through the door, hockey stick held tight in your hand, loose by your side.

‘Jeon Jungkook,’ comes the answer.

You pull open the door and he stumbles in, sweaty and urgent, and bruised, as you discover when you switch the light on.

You survey his injuries. He’s pulled his jacket tight around him as he slumps on your couch.

‘What happened?’ you ask, as you walk to your kitchen and pour out water, pop painkillers out of a blister pack.

‘Do you really want to know?’ he asks, voice low, harsh.

His tone stings but you’re not going to kick him out over it. Not when he’s clearly been on the losing end of some sort of fight.

You pass him the water and pills. He swallows both without asking what they are.

‘There’s spare towels in the cupboard if you want to get cleaned up,’ you say, when it’s clear he’s not going to talk.

‘There’s room in the bed if you need to crash.’

You go back to bed, and moments later you hear Jungkook in the bathroom.

He spends so long in there you’re almost asleep by the time he comes to your bed.

He slides in next to you, rigid, not touching you.

You’re worried if you speak he’ll leave, but you don’t want him to be this stiff all night, so you stroke your fingers through his damp hair.

He doesn’t say anything, but seems to relax a little into your touch.

You fall asleep with your fingers entwined in his hair.

When you wake, Jungkook’s arm is around you, curled tight under your breasts.

His face is buried in your hair, and your ass is snuggled into the cradle of his hips.

‘Feels good,’ he tells you.

You hadn’t realised he was awake.

‘Warm,’ you say.

Jungkook pulls your ass tighter into him. You can feel him now, hard, solid, against you.

You reach a hand behind you to touch, and realise he’s bare.

You’re giggling now, turning to face him.

He looks younger like this, trying to pretend he doesn’t care if you touch him or not when he’s stripped himself naked and woken you up.

You’re pushing yourself down, trying to get to his cock, when he grabs your hand.

‘Wanna be inside you,’ he says.

‘How do you want me?’ you ask.

He helps you turn over, ass up. He pushes into you, and again you’re not quite wet enough but you get there as he rocks his hips against your ass.

You bury your face in your pillows, enjoying the feel of him plunging into you, murmuring encouragement, when he tangles a hand in your hair, pulling it back from your face.

‘Pretty,’ he says, and you can hear the affection in his voice, clear as day.

You smile at him, and his hips stutter.

‘Fuck,’ he utters. His eyes squeeze shut, and he snaps his hips, hard, a low moan leaving his lips as he cums.

He pulls out, and you hear the snap of latex as he knots the condom, the quiet slap of it against your wood floors.

‘Stop tossing our used condoms everywhere,’ you say, teasing.

He huffs out a surprised laugh. ‘You should have a bin close by.’

You pull him into your arms, and to your surprise, he comes willingly, letting you cuddle him.

‘Go back to sleep,’ you say, and eventually he does, cheek pressed into your chest, heavy arm round your hips.

***

He sleeps most of the day. By the time he wakes up, you’ve had dinner, left some on a plate for him.

He eats quietly, and you use the time to examine his face, the dried-up blood on his temple, the riot of colour on his cheek and under his eye.

You’re trying to read when he comes to the couch.

He rests his head in your lap.

‘Read to me,’ he says.

You run your fingers through his hair as you do, enjoying the feel of its softness, the way he relaxes into your touch.

‘You ok, baby?’ you ask.

He nods, not opening his eyes. ‘Like it when you call me that.’

‘Baby?’

‘Yeah.’

You go to bed with him, but the next morning when you wake up, he’s gone.

You kind of wish he’d say goodbye.

***

You’re on a training day, trying not to roll your eyes constantly at the barrage of toxic masculinity from your colleagues in between lectures.

You’re one of two women in your cohort, and your only female colleague is pulling the night shift in a different precinct, so you’re on your own today.

You’re talking to Minjun during the coffee break, when you’re approached by Jae, a guy you barely know and you’ve always steered clear from.

‘Heard you have an ass tattoo,’ he says.

You glance at Minjun, who’s stiffened slightly at Jae’s words.

‘Yeah?’ you ask, bored. ‘Who’d you hear that from?’

‘Can I see it?’ Jae asks.

‘Nah,’ you say, turning back to Minjun.

‘I’ll paint your ass if you want,’ Jae offers.

You make the mistake of laughing in his face, which the idiot takes as encouragement.

‘No thanks, Jae.’

He has the audacity to grab your ass as you try to walk past.

You slap his hand away.

‘No means no, Jae. Do you need more consent training?’

You sit on your own for the rest of the day.

By the time the day ends you’re more than ready to get out of there.

Minjun invites you out for drinks, but you can’t think of anywhere you’d rather not be.

You’re jogging down the steps of the training centre, shouldering your backpack, when you see him.

Jungkook’s walking past, with another guy you don’t recognise.

You don’t know if he’s seen you, but you’re not in the mood to talk to any man right now, so you keep walking.

‘Hey!’

The shout echoes across the street.

You turn.

It’s Jae.

‘Think about my offer,’ he yells at you.

You don’t bother to reply, instead increasing your pace until you can’t hear his laughter.

It takes you more time than you should to realise that Jungkook’s following you.

‘What was the offer?’ Jungkook asks.

You stare at him.

‘What do you think?’ you spit out, angrier than you intended.

You sigh and run a hand over your face. ‘Sorry. He’s been an ass all day.’

‘Want me to fuck him up?’ Jungkook asks.

You stare at him again. He seems totally serious, waiting for your answer.

‘Nah,’ you say, just in case he really needs to hear you say it. ‘Want to grab noodles?’

‘I’ve eaten,’ Jungkook replies. ‘I was gonna come by, give you this.’

You look down at what he’s holding out to you.

It’s a phone case, decorated with an intricate tiny painting of cherry blossoms.

‘Wow,’ you say, admiring it. ‘It's beautiful. Did you paint it?'

‘It took me a couple days straight,’ Jungkook tells you.

‘It's so pretty,’ you say, running your thumb over the textures of paint, whatever he’s used to seal it.

You slip your phone out your pocket and slide it into the case.

‘Thank you,’ you tell him.

‘Thank you,’ he replies. ‘For looking out for me.’

Impulsively, you hook an arm around his neck and kiss him on the cheek.

It’s chaste, especially considering all you’ve done together, but Jungkook seems to like it.

‘Thanks,’ you say, again.

He smiles at you, almost shy.

‘I’ll let you get dinner,’ he says.

‘Sure,’ you say.

He doesn’t really like to say goodbye, you’ve noticed. You think about that as you’re waiting for your noodles, admiring the pretty case he’s made for you.

***

You’re partnered with Jae tonight whilst Minjun’s on leave. You’re on your way back from a call when you spot Jungkook’s familiar profile as he ducks into an alley.

Jae nods to the convenience store at the corner. ‘There aren’t any other outstanding calls. Mind if I grab a snack?’

‘Sure,’ you agree readily.

You head for the alley as Jae gets his food.

A hand reaches out suddenly and pulls you behind a dumpster.

‘Saw you park,’ Jungkook says, lips close to your ear.

You relax into his hold.

‘Saw you duck in here,’ you reply.

Jungkook looks like he’s about to say something, but instead he leans forward, lips meeting yours in a hungry kiss.

Your eyes close as you kiss him back.

God, he feels so good like this, arms tight around you. He tastes like mint and sweetness and he smells so good you want to lick him.

‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmurs.

‘So call me,’ you reply.

‘Not sure I want to date a cop,’ he says, and you freeze.

Jungkook’s eyes meet yours. You can’t read his expression in the darkness, and hopefully he can’t see your face too clearly either.

‘Yeah,’ you say, working to keep your voice casual. You fill in the rest of his sentence in your head.

You just want to fuck one.

You drop your arms from around him and take a step away.

‘I gotta go. I’m on duty.’

You head out the alley without looking back.

‘Where the fuck were you?’ Jae asks, when you get back to the car.

‘With your dad,’ you reply.

He scoffs, starting the engine and pulling away from the curb.

***

You rub your thumb over the cherry blossom phone case Jungkook gave you as you listen to the team briefing.

The city’s about to host an international sporting event, and as a priority they’re cracking down on ‘anti-social behaviour’.

You find it ironic that they’re prioritising graffiti artists over rapists and murderers.

You’re unlocking your door when you get home when you hear footsteps approach.

It’s Jungkook. You haven’t seen him since that night in the alley. Your face warms at the memory.

‘Hey,’ he says. He stops a few steps away from you.

‘Hey JK,’ you say. You lean against your door.

He scratches the back of his neck. ‘Do you want to-‘

He stops, clears his throat, and starts again. ‘Do you want to go grab dinner?’

You hadn’t been expecting that.

‘Yeah,’ you say.

He must have been tense, because his shoulders relax, visibly, when you answer.

‘Noodles?’ you suggest.

‘Sounds good,’ Jungkook replies.

***

You glance at Jungkook across from you as you slurp up a mouthful of noodles.

He’s looking back at you.

‘What the hell,’ you say. ‘I guess I don’t know what to say to you when I’m not fucking you or arresting you.’

Jungkook laughs. ‘I want to show you all my paintings so you’ll know I’m not just some asshole who gets in trouble and comes to see you at night.’

‘You’re talented,’ you tell him, sincerely.

‘I want to impress you,’ Jungkook replies.

‘Why?’

‘Because you seem like you have your shit together.’

Jungkook gives you a crooked smile.

‘You have a tonne of shit going for you,’ you say, shrugging. ‘I bet this whole tough guy thing works for you.’

‘It sure seemed to work on you when you were frisking me,’ Jungkook says, voice low.

You laugh, outraged. ‘The hell?’

‘I’ll show you my weapon,’ Jungkook mutters.

‘You’ve already done that,’ you reply.

‘I’ll do it again right now,’ Jungkook smirks. ‘Shoot you in the face with it.’

You laugh, face warming up despite yourself. ‘Shut up, Jungkook.’

After dinner you’re walking together through the park, so close your arms are brushing.

Jungkook tilts his chin. ‘There’s an old information booth a few hundred yards that way.’

You wrinkle your nose.

Jungkook laughs. ‘Come on. I’ll paint something.’

Moments later you’re standing outside a shed with a chain over the door.

Jungkook pulls you around to the side of it, pulling a can of paint out of his backpack, clicking a cap on.

‘What should I paint?’ he asks.

You don’t have a creative bone in your body.

‘Your name?’ you suggest.

Jungkook grins, then spray paints his handstyle, practised and symmetrical even though it looks careless.

He passes you the can and you spray your initials over his, sloppy and uneven.

‘What’s your last name?’ Jungkook asks.

You tell him.

He cocks his head, listening. ‘Is someone coming?’

You toss the spray can into the bushes just as Minjun and Jae emerge on the path next to the booth.

‘What the hell are you going?’ Jae asks.

He eyes you and Jungkook. Jungkook takes a step closer to you.

‘We were about to fuck, what does it look like?’ you retort, slipping your arm through Jungkook’s.

‘Don’t let us stop you,’ Jae says, smirking, the asshole.

You feel the way Jungkook tenses.

‘Nah. You’ll put me off,’ you reply.

You tug at Jungkook’s arm. ‘Come on. Let’s go. See you at work, Minjun.’

You’ve been walking for ten minutes before Jungkook speaks.

‘You work with that asshole?’ he asks. ‘He was in the car with you the other day.’

‘God. I wish I didn’t,’ you reply, grimly. ‘Anyway I was going to warn you. Because of the games they’re cracking down on graffiti instead of actual crime.’

‘So I should be more careful?’ Jungkook asks.

‘Yeah, don’t get caught,’ you tell him. ‘It might not be me booking you next time.’

‘You want to search me now?’ Jungkook asks.

He looks down at you, hair in his eyes, smile curling his lips.

‘Yeah,’ you reply. ‘Come home with me.’

***

You’ve been partnered with Jae again. The night’s going slowly, you stopped by a disturbance near the train station that had settled by the time you arrived.

Jae points at a faint light just beyond the back entrance of the station.

‘What’s going on there?’

You shrug. ‘Probably nothing.’

‘We should check it out,’ Jae says.

When you get closer you notice the back gate of the station isn’t quite closed.

Jae pushes it open and walks in.

There’s the smell of fumes, paint in the air, and as you seek out the source of the light, you come face to face with a startled looking Jungkook.

He’s got his hood up, a mask on, but it’s unmistakeably him.

He’s standing in front of a half-finished piece, along the side of a parked train.

It’s beautiful. You can see the riot of cherry blossoms, his signature claws, the beginnings of what looks like a face, even the beginning of his throw-up overhead.

Jae’s stepping up to Jungkook, grabbing his arm.

You can’t stand to see Jae touch him.

You step between them.

‘Just get out of here,’ you say to Jungkook.

You see the way Jae’s looking back and forth between you and Jungkook.

‘Fuck. You know him.’

You turn to Jungkook. ‘Get out of here,’ you say again.

Jungkook’s looking at you.

‘You’re gonna owe me for this,’ Jae says to you.

At first you’re not sure quite what’s happened, because one moment Jae’s leering at you and the next he’s sprawled on the train tracks, Jungkook standing over him.

‘She doesn’t owe you a thing,’ Jungkook spits.

You grab Jungkook’s arm. ‘Please, go. I’ll handle it.’

Jae’s up, lunging at Jungkook.

You push Jungkook, and finally, he moves.

He looks back at you once, but you don’t see because you’re trying to placate a furious Jae.

***

It’s been two weeks, and you haven’t heard from Jungkook since the night at the train tracks with Jae.

You’re leaving your apartment when you see him.

He walks up to you. ‘Hey.’

You look up at him warily. ‘Hey.’

‘Are you ok?’

You nod. ‘Yeah.’

Jungkook’s looking at you carefully, and all you can think is that he can’t have been that concerned about you, or he would have got in touch sooner.

‘Going to work?’ he asks, when it becomes clear you aren’t going to say anything else.

‘I’ve been suspended,’ you tell him.

Jungkook frowns. ‘For what?’

‘It doesn’t matter, Jungkook.’ You look at your feet. ‘Hey, I’ve got to go.’

‘Wait,’ he says.

You both look at his hand on your arm.

‘Was it because of me?’ he asks.

As you look at him, you wonder what the hell you’re doing. Sure, you’ve fucked a few times, gone out once, but he’s never called you. He wasn’t even worried enough to check on you after you physically stopped Jae from lunging at him.

Does he care anything for you?

You’ve got a sinking feeling that you’re the only one being an idiot here.

You look him right in the eye but even now can’t bring yourself to hurt him.

‘No,’ you tell him. ‘Hey, I’ve really got to go.’

He lets go of your arm, and you walk past him.

Part of you is hoping he’ll stop you, try to talk to you.

He doesn’t, and somehow you’re not surprised.

***

Five years later

The woman making the statement is beautiful, even in her distress. She’s been robbed by men at knifepoint who broke into her house. The address, you note, looking down at your sheet, is an upscale neighbourhood.

You’re looking through the inventory sheet of things that were stolen when she says, ‘And they stole an original Jeon Jungkook painting.’

Your heart skips a beat then resumes at a faster pace.

Jeon Jungkook.

The man who started off as a graffiti artist and is now established, wildly successful.

His pieces show at high-profile galleries, his work sells for six figure sums.

Your hand-painted phone case is stored amongst things you can’t bear to throw away, even though you’ve upgraded your phone countless times since you knew him.

You glance up as a man bursts into the room.

‘Misha,’ he says, concern evident in his voice, in his tense posture.

Jeon Jungkook looks as beautiful as he did when you knew him.

His eyes skate over you, blind to you as he leans over the woman, who’s now curling into his arms.

There’s the tiniest throb of hurt in your chest. You try to focus on the task at hand.

Why would he remember you?

Your partner, Minjun finishes taking Misha’s statement whilst you take notes and try to ignore that Jungkook, after his initial entrance where he ignored you and Minjun, is now staring at you.

You give Misha your contact details and assure her that you’ll keep her updated.

At the end of the interview Jungkook takes Misha away, murmuring something about how he was so worried about her.

He’s still looking at you as he speaks to her.

You pack up your things and follow Minjun out of the room.

It’s a while before you calm enough to write your report.

***

You’re at the beautiful house where the robbery took place. Misha’s staying at a friend’s.

You hadn’t asked who the friend was but you don’t need detective skills to know it’s likely to be Jungkook.

You doubt you’ll find anything the crime scene techs missed but you’re being thorough anyway.

You’re examining the back door handle, the shattered glass, when a car pulls up.

Jungkook gets out, and walks up to the house.

At first you think he doesn’t see you, then you realise he’s headed straight for you.

‘I won’t be much longer,’ you say, not looking at him as he stops next to you.

‘It’s you,’ he says.

Your eyes meet his for the first time.

‘Yeah,’ you reply. ‘I’m a detective now.’

He’s still standing there, looking at you, so you say, ‘Is Misha ok? She was pretty shaken by the robbery.’

Jungkook nods. ‘She’s staying at mine.’

You nod. ‘I’m just going to take a look around inside and then I’ll be out of your hair,’ you tell him.

He steps back. ‘Are you alone? I’ll stay with you.’

He follows you into the house.

‘How’ve you been?’ he asks, voice casual.

‘I’ve been fine, Jungkook,’ you reply. ‘And you?’

‘I’ve been good,’ he replies.

‘Congratulations on your success,’ you say politely.

‘Thank you. I still graffiti,’ he tells you.

‘Yeah?’ you ask idly, looking through the kitchen. ‘Probably shouldn’t admit that to me.’

You smile. ‘I am a cop after all.’

Jungkook smiles back at you, crooked.

You turn and walk into the living room.

‘I used to like it when you came along with me,’ Jungkook says. ‘Before.’

You look down. ‘Yeah?’ you say.

You look at your phone. ‘I should get back. You can tell Misha she can come back home whenever she wants.’

Jungkook’s expression is difficult to read, but he steps aside to let you pass.

You get in your car and drive away, resisting the urge to look back.

***

You’re walking home one night after a long day when you realise someone’s waiting at your front door.

Not just anyone.

The streetlights light the familiar silhouette of Jeon Jungkook.

He’s as tall and broad as he ever was, his body probably a little more cut than it was when you frisked him that first time.

You remind yourself not to go there again.

Jungkook smiles at you in greeting.

You can’t stop yourself from smiling back.

‘I was wondering if you wanted to go for dinner,’ he asks you.

You hesitate too long for it to be convincing if you lied and said you’d had dinner.

‘I should probably get some rest,’ you reply. You shift your bag on your other shoulder. ‘I’m in the middle of a case.’

You don’t ask the question you really want to ask, which is, what the hell are you doing Jungkook?

What the hell do you want?

Jungkook smiles, a little. ‘I have food.’ He lifts his arm, and you notice the bag of takeout he’s holding for the first time.

Your stomach growls, and Jungkook laughs. ‘You haven’t changed.’

At your look, he explains, ‘You’re always hungry after work and you never cook.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Don’t act like you know me.’

Your tone is light.

Jungkook swings the bag, temptingly. ‘I’ve got wontons.’

‘Ok yeah, yeah,’ you say, quickly. ‘Let me find my keys.’

Jungkook lays out food whilst you get changed, walking around your kitchen like he owns the place.

You’re amused at his domesticity.

Jungkook picks up a wonton and places it on your already full plate.

You notice the smear of pink paint on his hand, popping against his tattoos.

‘Creating masterpieces?’ you ask, popping a wonton in your mouth.

Jungkook grins. ‘Something like that.’

You see him looking at a jacket Minjun left at your place the last time he was over.

You focus on your food.

Jungkook asks, ‘Whose jacket is that?’

You smirk at him. ‘Your dad’s. Can you bring it back to him when you see him next?’

Jungkook glowers at you over his chopsticks.

‘So fucking rude.’

You shrug. ‘You’re the rude one. We don’t chat for five years and you invite yourself over for dinner?’

‘Fine,’ Jungkook says. ‘I’m going, and I’m taking my food with me.’

You curl your arm around your plate. ‘Try it,’ you warn.

Jungkook says, ‘I’d never take your food.’

‘You can still leave,’ you point out. ‘Just leave the food.’

‘Want me to go?’ he asks.

‘Depends,’ you reply instantly.

‘On what?’

‘Whether you can shut up and let me eat in peace.’

Jungkook laughs.

He gets up and gets you a glass of water.

‘Eat,’ he says.

***

When you leave for work the next morning, you notice that the cherry blossom piece that Jungkook painted all those years ago has been freshly touched up, in a shade that matches the paint on his hand from yesterday.

Your phone lights up.

Jungkook: Are you free tonight?

Y/N: Depends on who’s asking. Is it Daddy Jeon?

Jungkook: I’ll be your daddy.

Y/N: Is that what you say to Misha?

Jungkook: We're close friends, but we're not together.

Jungkook: So are you free tonight?

Y/N: No, I’m busy, actually.

Jungkook: I’m working on a new piece down by the library. Do you want to see it?

Y/N: Fine.

Jungkook: Do you like the cherry blossom?

Y/N: It’s ok, I guess.

Jungkook: I’ll paint you another one later.

Y/N: Don’t make me arrest you for defacing public property again.

Jungkook: If I remember correctly, you’re the one who saved me from being arrested.

***

You look at Jungkook suspiciously.

‘If this piece was commissioned by the council, why are you acting so shady about it?’

Jungkook grins. ‘They commissioned the wall mural.’

He pauses.

‘They didn’t say anything about the main entrance.’

You step in front of him, blocking him with your body as he lifts his spray can.

Jungkook steps forward, bumping you against the glass doors of the library entrance.

His body, hard as it ever was, makes you shiver.

He looks down at you.

‘Just tell me know and I’ll stop,’ he tells you.

‘Stop,’ you say. You don’t know what you’re stopping him from doing given the way his eyes are on your lips, but it’s so hard to think.

Especially when he’s looking at you the way he’s looking at you now, eyes dark, arm bracing himself against the doors so his full weight isn’t against you.

‘What are you doing, Jungkook?’ you ask.

‘Hoping for a second chance,’ he replies. He sounds so serious you can’t look away.

‘Hey!’

The shout makes you step apart.

You both look at the uniformed officer approaching you.

To your surprise, Jungkook steps in front of you.

‘I’m Jeon Jungkook,’ he says. ‘I’ve been commissioned to paint a piece for the library.’

The officer steps back, apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Jeon.’

It’s a stark difference from the last time you saw him paint in the middle of the night.

Jungkook says, ‘You look tired. I’ll take you home.’

***

You wake up as Jungkook parks near your building.

‘Thanks for the lift,’ you say, sleepy, turning to look at him.

He unbuckles his belt then goes to your side of the car, opening your door, putting out an arm to help you out.

He puts his arm around you as he walks you to your door.

‘Will you be ok?’ he asks.

‘Sure,’ you say, smiling up at him.

He leans forward and presses a slow, sweet kiss on your cheek.

‘Go to sleep, pretty girl.’

There’s a throb low in your groin at his words, the deep voice he says them in.

You’re still thinking about his kiss when you drift off to sleep.

***

You wake up to your phone ringing. It’s Nara.

‘What the hell have you been doing with Jeon Jungkook?’ she asks, no preamble.

You love her directness, but just out of sleep, you need context.

‘Guh?’ you mumble intelligently into the phone.

‘Goddamn is he with you right now?’ Nara asks, voice increasing in volume steadily.

Disoriented, you actually check the other side of the bed.

As though you’d forget if Jungkook were next to you.

‘Nara. What’s happened?’ you ask, patient.

Nara seems to realise you’re struggling to understand.

‘Fine. I’ll send you a link.’

She hangs up without a goodbye.

Nara sends you a link to a story about Jungkook.

The sleep gradually falls away from you, but you don’t have to read anything.

One look at the picture accompanying the headline, and you’re wide awake.

It’s a piece, beautiful, flowing, symmetrical, with Jungkook’s familiar throw-up, except this time, next to it is a love heart and your initials.

Beneath the headline picture is another piece, in a different location, but with the same words.

JJK loves Y/N L/N.

As you scroll through the article you realise that Jungkook’s been busy graffitiing pieces with both your initials all over the city.

Both your initials.

Your heart’s beating so hard you feel like it’s about to pop out of your chest.

You’re sitting on your bed, frozen, when your doorbell rings.

You stumble out of bed to get the door.

Jungkook’s standing on your doorstep.

He’s dressed all in black, hair falling into his eyes, a familiar smile on his face.

He’s dazzling.

He says, ‘I know you’ve got today off. Can I take you out?’

You don’t know what to say, so Jungkook laughs a little and takes a step forward.

‘Say yes.’

You’re still searching his face.

‘Yes,’ you say.

You have more to say, but it doesn’t seem to matter right now.

***

A coffee and a shower later, you’re sitting with Jungkook at your kitchen island, looking at him quizzically.

‘What are we doing today?’ you ask, curious.

He grins at you. ‘I wanted to take you around the city.’

Jungkook takes you through the park, to the underpass you saw him in, all those years ago.

You bite back a smile as he waits for you to react to the JJK loves Y/N L/N inscribed in fresh paint.

‘What’s that?’ you ask, innocent, expecting a laugh.

Instead, Jungkook steps closer and tips your chin so your eyes meet his.

‘That’s me being crazy about you,’ he replies.

‘Are you?’ you ask.

Jungkook nods, serious. ‘Ever since you felt up my abs at the station.’

‘I was frisking you,’ you protest.

‘Want to frisk me now?’ Jungkook asks.

He widens his stance slightly, hips turning a little so he’s facing you dead on.

You’re opening your mouth to reply when his lips capture yours in a kiss.

‘I don’t want to wait anymore because of mistakes I made when I was younger,’ he tells you, mouth hot on your skin. ‘Don’t make me wait anymore.’

***

Jungkook’s body is as beautiful as it ever was. He’s added a few tattoos in the last 5 years, but most of his skin is still unmarked. His muscles flex as he fucks into you, hips snapping against yours, skin against bare skin.

You’re panting, whimpering under him, and the sounds you make spur him on.

He’s coaxed an orgasm out of you already since he started fucking you, and it doesn’t seem like he’s anywhere close to stopping.

Jungkook pulls out of you, sits up against your headboard, arm stretched out.

He taps his thigh. ‘Come sit on me,’ he invites.

He kisses you hungrily, tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you. You line up his cock against you, rubbing up against him.

He hisses, but lets you slide yourself over his cock.

You’re not in the mood for playing with him.

It’s been five years since you’ve last fucked, but only days since the memory of him last made you cum.

You lift your hips and both of you watch as he enters you.

You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath until Jungkook pulls you back in for another kiss.

‘Breathe, my love,’ he says.

It’s overwhelming, everything from his rigid length filling you to the muscles flexing in his arms and abs as he helps you ride him, to the soft grunts he makes.

You can’t talk, but Jungkook talks for you.

‘Love how you feel,’ he murmurs, grunting a little as he bucks his hips up into you.

‘Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this? Shit, I can’t tell you.’

Jungkook moans, fingers gripping your hips so tight they hurt.

‘I couldn’t do anything for you, before but get you into trouble,’ he says, voice strained.

You put your hand on his face, and he turns into your palm to kiss it.

‘Jungkook,’ you say, waiting until he looks at you.

‘You’re still getting me into trouble now,’ you tell him, voice teasing.

You press your lips to his neck, near his ear, and whisper, ‘And I fucking love it.’

Jungkook groans, and his hips buck, and you feel his warmth filling you as he cums.

He pulls you close, arms so tight around you that you can barely breathe.

***

Jungkook looks beautiful tonight, at an exhibit of his most recent work.

It’s at a shipping container port because it’s the largest painting he’s ever done, taking up all of the height of three containers stacked on top of each other, and spanning the length of the sides.

He’s been working on it for months, and you’ve spent many a night here with him, keeping him company because he works best in the dark.

Jungkook tugs at the roll-neck of his top. ‘Damn why did I choose something so tight?’

He’s not wrong. The top he’s wearing is moulded to his body, showing off his shoulders, his pecs. You can practically see the muscles of his back rippling as he moves.

‘Because you’re a ho and you wanted to look pretty even though your art stands for itself,’ you tell him.

Jungkook glowers at you, and you put your hand on his arm.

‘You don’t have anything to prove, my love, you never have.’

You’re not expecting it as he pulls you close and kisses you. ‘I’m so stressed, I need to fuck,’ he says, and to your wonder, he’s hard enough that you can feel him even though your hips are barely touching.

‘Come on,’ you say, tugging his hand.

You weave through the crowd with him, expertly dodging all the people who seem to want to approach him and congratulate him. You spot an old security booth, tug open the door, and Jungkook slams it shut behind you.

He’s on you before you can even lift your skirt up, grinding himself against your ass, gasps and moans spilling from his lips.

You feel his fingers stroking into your folds, entering you, stretching you for his cock.

He spits on his hand and pumps his cock, as though he’s not already hard enough.

A split second later he’s entering you from behind, hand kneading your ass.

‘Kook,’ you breathe.

He groans then, holding completely still, as though all he wanted was to be connected to you, like this.

You can feel yourself clenching around him, struggling to get used to the thickness of him.

‘Shit,’ he says, and there’s so much relief in his voice you feel a gush of wetness between your legs. ‘Shit, I need to be in you all the time.’

His thumb starts rocking over your clit as he stays still, keeping you impaled on his cock.

He kisses the back of your neck, warm breath on your skin making you shiver.

And then he starts to move, little pushes of his hips against yours, cock slipping out an inch or so before he pumps back into you again, dragging his cock along your walls just right.

You moan as he speeds up. He feels so good.

Jungkook bites down on your neck, and you cry his name as you cum for him.

You’re so caught up in your own pleasure you barely him crying out your name as he fills you. For a while after, you don’t hear anything at all.

Jungkook’s exhibit is, as you’d expected, a roaring success.

***

You’re leaning over the railing of the underpass Jungkook’s currently working under.

‘Hey,’ he calls, ‘come down here.’

‘I can’t be seen with you, Mr Jeon, I’m a detective after all, and you’re committing a crime.’

Jungkook scoffs. ‘It’s dark. Come keep me company.’

He waggles his eyebrows, looking up at you.

You don’t take much convincing.

‘Stand against the wall,’ Jungkook says, ‘please. And don’t move.’

You stand, perfectly still, as he sprays the outline of your body on the brick wall behind you, using his sweatshirt to cover your face as he sprays around your head.

‘Perfect,’ he says.

You hear the clank of his spray can hitting the ground, then his sweatshirt is pulled off your head, and then his lips are on yours.

‘Fuck, JK, if you wanted a kiss you just had to ask,’ you say, pulling back a little.

‘I’m asking,’ he says, looking down at you, eyes serious. ‘I’m always asking. I’ve been asking since the day I met you, only I was too stupid to keep you, before.’

He pulls you into his arms.

‘Stay with me?’ he says.

He must see your answer in your eyes, because his smile is already curling his lips before you say, ‘Yeah. I’ll stay.’

©hamsterclaw 2022

Author note: With much thanks and love always to @madbutgloriouspond for reading and shaping this story with me.

[bcbdrums]

The Voice - ch. 4

First Chapter | Previous Chapter AO3 | FFn

A Drakgo story.

Suspense/angst, injury, hurt/comfort multi-chap. Spoilers ahead if you've not read the first parts.

-------------

"I, um...would you like to hear another story?"

Of course she didn't respond, and Drakken felt the sick feeling return to his stomach. He frowned and looked away to where the red of the sunset had all but vanished. He wondered if he should turn the flashlight on when it got dark... He could still hear the rain through the hole in the cave's ceiling.

"The hover-car really won't take long to fix, as soon as the rain stops. I know you've been telling me to put a dome on it for years... Eddie would call it 'tricked out.' But it does have some utility... As long as I'm adding things, do you think it needs more seats? I know the last model had three in the front... It would be useful if we ever capture Kim Possible...although I suppose we could just stuff her in the trunk... Yes, I know that's what you would prefer... But I'd like her to hear my gloating before we imprison her for life in the dungeon... Oh! That...that was supposed to be a surprise..."

Drakken felt his chest constrict in pain again.

"I built a dungeon, under the new lair..."

Tears came to his eyes again. They would never capture Kim Possible together. Shego would never see the dungeon he had built. But...he could tell her about it.

"You...you might not like it. It's entirely cliche... I even put a fake skeleton in there, hanging from a wall with shackles... But I had it built it out of the natural cave, so lava is running through..."

Drakken realized just then that even though his clothes were dry, he was still very damp. The cave was hot and humid, and his hair hadn't dried at all in the time they had been inside. He tugged at his collar uncomfortably.

"It has those...old medieval cages that are only big enough for a person to stand in...hanging from caves over the lava flow... And it has a drawbridge over the lava, with the controls only on one side. Oh! You'll like this. I calculated the length of Kim Possible's grapple gun from various security footage and made sure the ceilings are higher. Even if she escapes the cages or shackles, she wouldn't be able to use that thing to get out. And I want to find something that she's afraid of to put inside, too... Maybe—"

He had been about to say 'spiders' but stopped short. The last thing Shego needed reminding of was spiders.

"Maybe I can build a projector...or a Pepper's ghost stage... What do you think the odds are that Kim Possible knows about Pepper's ghost? I'm sure her computer kid knows about them, but there wouldn't be anything digital for him to scan. That's what I'll do..."

He tugged at his collar again and suddenly felt itchy all over. He gently placed Shego's hand on her leg and noted how cold she seemed to be despite the heat in the cave.

"I'm just...going to take my shirt off. It's too hot," he explained as he moved off of the wall.

He stayed within her line of sight as he undid the buttons and then yanked the sweat-soaked garment off of his back, the sleeves sticking to his arms slightly. He tossed the shirt away in the direction of the unopened chip bags. He untucked the t-shirt he was wearing from his waistband and pulled at the front of the shirt a few times to air out his chest.

He looked at Shego's still-damp hair and the sheen of sweat over her face. He reached his hands cautiously toward the zipper of her suit.

"Do you want me to... Ah...n-never-mind," he said with a blush, changing his mind. She definitely would not want him undressing her, even if she was hot. And...it wouldn't matter anyway.

He leaned back against the wall and found the stone cool and a slight relief, though his back was still sweaty inside his t-shirt.

"Actually, that...that reminds me of another story. Do you want to hear it...? You probably don't... But my first year in college, I'm sure my dorm room was haunted."

He shifted to put his shoulder against hers, and when he picked up her hand to hold he noticed again how cold she was even through her suit. It wasn't a good sign. Or...maybe it was? Would a quick death be better?

He fought the urge to cry, and leaned his head against hers.

"It's a scary story... You can tell me later if you think so or not..." He paused to gather his emotions as he recalled the memory and decided where to start. "The dorm room I was assigned was on the top floor and in a corner. Oh, I should explain... This was the old building, that had been part of the old campus before MIST was founded. I...can't remember what the old college was called. But my dorm had been part of the original buildings that were built in the 1920's. So it had all the original plumbing, the walls were thicker...the windows had no screens and were single-plate glass... Some rooms, like mine, didn't have a shower and only an old claw-foot tub. And the water was fed from a natural hot spring. It would have been interesting, if not for the haunting...

"When I moved in I also had a freshman roommate. His name was Jonah... He was from Kenya. But that's not relevant... The room was very nice and we both liked it, but all of the upperclassmen told us we had the haunted room. They told us that back in the twenties...a man and woman had been shot and killed in our room, because the woman was the young wife of one of the professors...and the man was a student apprentice to that professor. It was the professor of course who murdered them, after catching them together.

"The story we were told was that the ghosts of the two victims haunted the room, and if anyone ever did anything at all dishonest...horrible things began happening to them. Freak accidents and injuries... Things going missing..."

The light from the sunset had vanished entirely, and Drakken found himself feeling afraid. He turned on the flashlight and set it facing up on the floor right between his and Shego's legs.

"I know what you're thinking. I'm being a baby... But it was really haunted, Shego! After the first couple of months...first, our laundry was destroyed. Down in the washroom... In the same machines we always used. Both mine and Jonah's, but no one else's was ruined. You could say that was just a coincidence... But later that week when I tried to take a bath... I filled the tub as usual while I shaved, but then when I went to get in...the cold water hadn't worked. The tub was only full of hot water. I could have been scalded! And...and before you say it's just coincidence or the old plumbing...that same night the window fell closed while Jonah was studying and the pane shattered. He had so many cuts on his arms and face.

"After that, Jonah admitted he had stolen the answers to the first chemistry test. I was livid. I couldn't believe he had done it, knowing our dorm was haunted! And I know you'll just say...it's still only coincidence. But that night... It was the night before the test... I was asleep, and I woke up when I heard Jonah shout. I saw...I saw two people standing over his bed. It was a man and a woman, and they were wearing clothes from the 1920's. And they both turned and looked at me and...then they vanished."

Drakken turned and looked at Shego's half-lidded eyes. Nothing about her expression had changed.

"I know you don't believe me... Or you think I dreamt it, because of the upperclassmen trying to tease us... But Jonah saw them too! We moved out of the dorm that weekend..."

Drakken's skin was crawling for the horrid memory, and he moved the flashlight closer. But it was casting ominous shadows on the ceiling of the cave and on Shego's face. He noticed how she was much paler than usual, and thought again of how cold her skin was to the touch. He checked her pulse and found it perhaps slightly slower...and her skin was definitely cold.

He realized that in the dark he wouldn't be able to work on the hover-car, even if the rain stopped, which it hadn't.

"I think...maybe we should sleep now," he said as his chest constricted in pain. Was she dying quickly? Would he wake up in the morning to find her gone? "It's too dark to work on the hover-car...and...and you're right, I probably should have just done it in the rain. But...there is no anti-venom for tarantula bites. Because they're..." He swallowed shakily. "They're not fatal."

He let go of her hand as his emotions got the better of him, and he picked up the flashlight.

"I'm turning this out now...um... I'll close your eyes for you, so you can sleep better..." He very gently closed her eyes one at a time with his index finger, and then he took her hand again before turning the flashlight off. He set the light down next to him and then moved closer to her, pressing his hot and sweaty side to her cold one. He leaned his head gently against hers.

"I know it hurts... But that's what it does," he said, trying to reassure her. He hated to lie to her...but he couldn't tell the truth. "And I know it seems like it's not getting better. But the venom just has to...run its course."

He stared into the darkness for a minute and listened to the rain above. He wondered what he would do in the morning... Whether it was raining or not...if she was still alive, he would fix the hover-car. But if she wasn't...

"When I was a child...I would use my glasses to burn bugs and spiders... You know, by focusing the sun's light through the lenses..."

Drakken yawned and let tears fill his eyes as he closed them.

"Don't worry Shego... Try to sleep... Don't worry."

[tigereyes45]

For Trektober Day 25: Shuttlecraft. This is the first chapter of a Uhura x Scotty multi-chap fic.

Summary:

Scotty and Uhura were sent out on a scouting mission in one of the shuttlecrafts. It was a simple mission. Nyota was there to open up communication with the locals, and Scotty was to get her there and back. Too bad easy missions never remain uncomplicated.

Preview of story:

Uhura clutches her hands around the edge of the shuttlecraft’s navigation controls. Scotty was leaning all the way over the helm control, knees pressed against the metal protectors along the bottom of them, face contorted in pain and determination in his eyes. Despite the speed at which they were crashing through the atmosphere Uhura doesn’t panic. She forces her eyes back onto the computer’s screen. There’s no need to be scared. They won’t die. Scotty’s the best engineer in the whole fleet, and she’s had to take over the navigation console often enough that she can find them a place to crash. She slides her fingers along the buttons and controls. Land. They’d need dry land, preferably an open field.

The force of their descent pulls water from her eyes. Quickly, Uhura blinks the tears away. They were quickly flying over a desert. Her heart races frantically. A struggle to forage for food is the last thing they’d need. Uhura quickly plots in a random location code for somewhere about two hundred kilometers ahead of them. 

“Our engines are gone! We’re running on momentum alone at this point!” Scotty announces as he pushes himself further back into his chair. He pulls back his foot and launches it into the metal protection plates under the console. “Stay where you are lass!” 

It’s more of a plea than an order.

That realization drops her stomach all the way into the soles of her feet. Uhura braces herself for the crash as the new coordinates lock-in. The scans read sporadic trees and shrubbery. It’s at least a better chance. “Can we give ourselves a boost?”

[evergreenstringbean]

Fanfiction Masterlist- evergreenstringbean

Please read AO3 tags prior to reading! Some of these are old. Some of these were written for tumblr challenges. Sue me if they're cringe now.

Blue text will detail crossover fanfictions, but are included in both fandom lists. Green will signify oneshots, purple will signify multi-chaptered works. All are completed.

Bandstand

Keeping The Ghosts Away (Nick Radel/Wayne Wright): It happens every night at the same exact time. Wayne doesn't know that Nick isn't asleep this time.

Water and Smoke (Jimmy Campbell/Johnny Simpson): They all want to go on a beach vacation. Jimmy knows he can't handle it, but agrees.

Pets Are The Best Medicine (Nick Radel/Wayne Wright): Nick wants a dog. Wayne, of course, doesn't. Nick, of course, doesn't listen.

Thoughts (Jimmy Campbell/Nick Radel): Jimmy doesn't know why his thoughts seem to never listen to him.

Parallels (Jimmy Campbell & Julia Trojan): Julia can't face the band after Donny tells her what happened to Michael. Jimmy comes to visit her.

Once Upon A Time (Jimmy Campbell/Aaron Miller): Jimmy's so grateful to have Aaron in his life.

Forward (Jimmy Campbell/Johnny Simpson): Jimmy can't move on. But he can more forward.

Palliative (Character Study- No Ship): Palliative Coping: Making the situation more tolerable or keeping it under control without directly taking care of the problem.

Something in Return (Jimmy Campbell/Angelo Maggio): The band is exhausted after a nationwide tour. Jimmy most of all. A night at the Blue Wisp sounds like a good idea to relax. Turns out Jo has hired someone new.

Another Language (Jimmy Campbell/Angelo Maggio): Impromptu duets lead to interesting thoughts as Jimmy learns more about the new employee of The Blue Wisp. Continuation of "Something in Return".

The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

Here It's Safe and Sound (Ted Spankoffski/Henry Hidgens): Henry doesn't mind the silence anymore, but he really needs a break from it.

Still The Dance Goes On (Ted Spankoffski/Henry Hidgens): Showtunes help Henry with whatever emotion he feels.

Everything's Perfect/Nothing's Real (Ted Spankoffski/Henry Hidgens): Henry theorized this exact scenario thirty years ago. But what if it wasn't simply a theory?

Marvel Cinematic Universe

Which Direction is the Right Direction? (Peter Parker & Tony Stark): It's been one month and Peter gets a call in the middle of class. "He'd tried putting it into his computer, that hadn't worked at all. He'd tried looking through old archives that Pepper had allowed him to scan, nothing. He even tried asking Karen, hoping perhaps the man had sent something about it to him without him knowing. Nope. So, it looked like he was stuck with a million questions and no right answers."

The Postcards Protocol (Peter Parker & Tony Stark): Peter finds out about the Postcards Protocol, and wonders why it's called that.

Prisoner of My Past (Peter Parker & Tony Stark): Peter's finally figured it out, with help from Tony. Sequel to "The Postcards Protocol"

IT (Movies)

some time can bring perspective that we need (Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier): "The moment he made it to the surface, he was booking it out of the house and made no effort to stop. When panic set in with Eddie Kaspbrak, it failed to stop until he was absolutely sure he was out of danger. He was blocks away from Neibolt before he was able to stop for breath, and he was almost regretting tossing his inhaler into the fire while his lungs burned from the exercise. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his mind was swirling with questions he didn’t know the answers to." In which Eddie Kaspbrak gets the ending he deserves.

To Start Over...Somehow (Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris): Most of the things he’ll think about are simple. What his plans are for the days ahead, new ideas for material that he’s now, finally, writing on his own…and how the world is one cruel, fucked up place. / or / Richie is learning to cope alone.

letting go of what might have been (Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris): Richie's got it all under control...but sometimes he doesn't / or / Richie's still coping.

words we leave unspoken (Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier): Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier has 1500 words left to live. He has more than 1500 words left to say.

From Here to Eternity (Musical)

Something in Return (Jimmy Campbell/Angelo Maggio): The band is exhausted after a nationwide tour. Jimmy most of all. A night at the Blue Wisp sounds like a good idea to relax. Turns out Jo has hired someone new.

Another Language (Jimmy Campbell/Angelo Maggio): Impromptu duets lead to interesting thoughts as Jimmy learns more about the new employee of The Blue Wisp. Continuation of "Something in Return".

Sanders Sides

If I Didn't Believe in You (Roman/Logan): Roman doesn't want to go to another party. Logan knows what's really happening.

There Was Janus (Roman/Logan): Roman and Logan get to know each other after working in the same touring production for the last month, when Logan asks how Roman got into acting.

Must Be a Dream (Character Study- No Ship): Logan's alone, but not completely. An imagining of post-WTIT after Logan sinks out of the living room.

Roundabout (Virgil/Roman, Logan/Patton): Virgil's got a new job as a school secretary, a vast change from his old life. He quickly befriends a few fellow faculty members, including one happy-go-lucky drama teacher. As the year goes on, and Virgil begins to form stronger bonds, his reluctance to revisit parts of his past may begin to put a strain on the relationships he holds dear.

When You Smile (Remy/Emile): Remy just wanted to grab a quick coffee. He didn't anticipate the cute stranger dancing in line. Part of the "Roundabout" canon.

Borderline (Established Roman/Virgil & Logan/Patton, Janus/Remus): Following the unexpected death of their mother, Roman and Remus are tasked with cleaning out their parents' attic. Old photos bring up old memories, old trinkets bring up old feelings, but a stack of letters may begin to distort the thoughts of their childhood, or bring their thoughts of it to new light. A world continuation of Roundabout.

The Old Guard

When The Sun Lights The Room (Joe/Nicky): “We should do something today. We could pick up some flowers at a shop this evening,” Joe offers to his love, squeezing his hand in an absent check-in to make sure the man is in fact mentally there as he’d claimed to be. A matching squeeze confirms so and he takes a deep breath. “He should be here.” Thirty years ago, Joe and Nicky lost their son. The "finality" of death still gives them whiplash at the tricks it plays.

Always Starting Over (Joe/Nicky): Nicolo di Genova has lived many different lives. He's fought many wars, saved many lives, and donned many names. But everything's over, and he's too cold. In which Joe loses his immortality and Nicky struggles to cope.

Stand By Me

Think of Me Fondly (Chris Chambers & Gordie LaChance): Gordie LaChance was twelve going on thirteen the first time he saw a dead human being. Gordon LaChance was thirty-eight going on thirty-nine when the newspaper headline knocked the wind out of him.

M*A*S*H

this is life, with the heartache it brings (B.J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce): It starts with an average day. It ends with nothing being the same. Or, if the American Songbook's "Tribute to the Troops" broadcast took place in 1952 and landed on the ears of the 4077th

Good Omens

I hope you blink before I do (Crowley/Aziraphale): Crowley, after a Hell of a time, sleeps.

Spies Are Forever

All's Fair in Love and Death (Agent Curt Mega/Owen Carvour): Following the final death of Owen Carvour, Agent Curt Mega is thrust into a mission that seems simple at first glance. Retrieve a fellow agent from a completed undercover mission. However, there are a few caveats. For one, the "fellow agent" is a Slozhno. For two, Curt is meant to retrieve the agent in 2016. With the mix of following his mission, learning all about Tatiana's son, and grappling an entirely new world, Curt must leave every stipulation of his real present life behind to protect a potential future at stake.

Detroit: Become Human

So Goes the Roll of the Dice (RK900/Gavin Reed): Gavin Reed and RK900- known as Nines- are ready to move in together, for "convenience" or whatever they claim. What looks to be the ending of a long investigation results in Gavin re-examining the ghosts of his pasts, and the android of his potential future.

[jadedingperson-blog]

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