#on the other hand. really paying attention to the lyrics for the first time after having seen the season 2 finale is. is... someone shoot m

[butterfirefly]

Guess who just bothered to check the lyrics of Dive Back In Time

[fillinforlater]

C'mon

Choi Yunjin (Jini) x Oh Haewon, Kang Seulgi

Length: 7895 words

Tags: lesbian sex, girl x girl relationships, idol x idol, fingering, licking, heart break, drunk sex, hook up, thigh riding, eating out, there is a story in this, like really I tried doing drama and all that

TW: rusty writing, rusty editing

Inspiration: "C'mon" by JINI (if you pay attention to the lyrics, they might come up in this fic again)

(A/N: yeah, I'm back for a hot second. I had this fic in the freezer, topped it off with a hot/cute ending to give you hope that I might return xD I hope you enjoy it all; the plot, the sex. Happy Pride Month, remember to be excellent to each other and accept them, even if you might not understand everything <3)

“Have you seen the new trainee?”

Jini looks up from her phone, the instagram story instantly forgotten at the sight of Haewon entering the living room. She has a white towel atop her round face, an oversized t-shirt enveloping not only her entire upper body but also her butt and crotch. Jini is very much used to this style, especially post showering, hell, she even started to copy Haewon after only a few weeks of training together. Yeah, it only took weeks. Everything went so fast.

“Oh, you mean Sullyoon?” Jini responds, eyes blatantly fixated on Haewon’s lips. “Yeah, I saw her. She is very pretty.”

“Oh yeah?” Haewon raises her chin and slowly steps closer to the couch Jini sits on. “So she is very pretty.”

“Not only very pretty,” Jini breathes, her voice teasing, she drops the phone. “I think she’ll be the visual of the group.”

Haewon is right above her now, staring down at Jini’s smirk. Jini knows that her girlfriend can never resist her addictive teasing, the naughty words that are nothing but a set up to get in the mood. It works like a charm, even right after a shower, Haewon is ready to get sweaty again. 

“You’re on a first name basis too,” Haewon remarks before suddenly grabbing Jini’s t-shirt and pulling the stunning stunned girl's face close. Jini huffs, her face is flushed with thrill, the excitement of getting Haewon aroused and ready to press her body on hers. “Why are you wearing my t-shirt again?”

“I like how big it is… and how it smells.”

“Take it off.”

An order Jini gladly follows, though she remains purposefully slow to enjoy Haewon’s gaze on her toned, bare body underneath the thin, white cloth, which is quickly discarded behind the couch. Haewon’s knee carefully opens Jini’s legs as both of them lean closer to each other, yet to touch, but the heat of their bodies already merging. 

“Only panties?” Haewon notices, not looking at the tiny pink thing covering Jini’s sex, hell, she’s not even looking at the nude hills with hard nipples atop of them. She only focuses on Jini’s eyes and the black haired girl wouldn’t have it any other way. This is why she loves this dork so much. 

“I bet it’s the same for you, babe,” Jini giggles, finally courageous enough to dig her hand beneath the towel into Haewon’s moist hair. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. Have I told you I love you before?” 

Haewon’s dorkiness is showing. Before Jini can respond, the soon-to-be-leader shoves her knee right on Jini’s pussy while her hands both grind over Jini’s sensitive breasts. The timing is a bit off, the movement sloppy, but Jini would not have it any other way. Haewon could even do some cringy shit right now, and Jini would still be wet and horny for the older’s fingers.

“Y-yes, babe,” Jini moans, biting her pointer as to not alert someone who might possibly pass this dorm room. “You do it all the time, I—oh my God!”

Haewon’s tongue glides over her girlfriend's collar, up her throat to her chin, Jini’s chin, the most sensitive chin in the world. It’s a unique spot to be so erogenous, and Haewon is ready to use it for Jini’s peak pleasure. The moment she nibbles on the smooth curve, Jini pulls her in, the rest of their curves melting, Jini leaking on Haewon’s knee, then her digits hovering down her abs, into her heat—

“Haewon, Haewon, I love you!”

#

The debut is approaching rapidly, like an unstoppable train, days filled with dancing, recording, dancing, shootings, dancing—most nights, Jini just falls asleep the second she meets her bed. Luckily, Haewon is still there, together they fight through the tough times, share a secret relationship, until Haewon has to stay longer for extra meetings and other stuff. 

“Being a leader is hard,” she says and kisses Jini’s forehead before she heads out to yet another extra schedule. “I’ll see you later, babe.”

Jini stares at the ceiling, tired yet unable to use the four hours she has to sleep properly. She misses Haewon, her touch, the shared intimacy. It’s the one thing that has carried her through the rough trainee and group building process, to lose it now is unimaginable to her. Maybe the best times are already past the two of them, maybe the homophobic culture surrounding them will have their love suppressed to the bare minimum, absolute secrecy, where Jini has to ask herself:

Is this really love?

Haewon returns earlier than Jini expected, out of breath, face equally exhausted and worried. Jini lifts her blanket and Haewon slips right next to her, wordlessly, only deep breaths leaving her lips. This is very much not the Haewon Jini is used to, no amount of training has her this quiet.

“Is everything okay, love?” Jini carefully asks, hands on Haewon’s soft, beautiful cheeks. “I’m here if you want to talk. I’m also here if you just want to sleep.”

“Can you bring me the tequila?” Haewon whispers defeatedly and Jini hurries to get the bottle and two shot glasses. In the faint moonlight falling through the window behind her bed, she fills the glasses and hands one to Haewon, who immediately downs it, followed by a loud, exaggerated sigh.

“Tequila?” Jini asks with a small smile. “That bad?”

“It goes down so easily, easier than—” Haewon stops and reaches for Jini’s glass. Another shot of tequila goes down her throat in a blaze of fire. “Jini, I-I think we need to… put our relationship on hold.”

Jini sinks to the floor in front of her bed, in front of Haewon who looks down to her with sad, glistening eyes, though Jini feels already a lot closer to crying. Before it can happen however, Haewon guides the bottle to her girlfriend's lips, and the colorless, burning liquid makes Jini jerk up. Tequila stains her cheek, chin, Haewon’s t-shirt she stole out of her drawer last night.

“Careful, you’re spilling it everywhere,” Haewon cackles quietly, as if she doesn’t mean it.

“Haewon, why? I love you, I need you, please don’t break up with me,” Jini cries out but Haewon just goes for her chin and licks the liquor off of it. Jini calms down with a soft moan, while Haewon starts to hum and kiss all over her face.

“We are not breaking up. It’s just that… we won’t have any privacy. They will restructure the dorm rooms and the rest of the time, we’ll be learning choreographies. I just want to be honest with you—we won’t have any time, but I still love you, Jini.”

“A-and what if we tell them about us and ask them to give us our own room?”

A pained sick laugh leaves Haewon’s lips and she avoids looking at Jini, not able to bear those anxious eyes. Instead she focuses on pulling her onto the bed and getting a hand underneath the t-shirt.

“Don’t be silly, Jini. They will never accept us. They can never know about us, not even Lily. I don’t want them to hurt you.”

“I-I’m not scared of them,” Jini whines, while Haewon has her shirtless already. “I’m scared of losing you.”

“Don’t worry about that, baby, let’s just enjoy tonight.” Haewon’s tongue dances with Jini’s, not in the rhythm of their song for the millionth time, but lazily, sloppily. If there was a dance teacher, they’d complain about the execution, but Jini only cares that this tongue is there and makes her feel warm and wet. 

“Touch me, Haewon, please.” Jini’s voice cracks during that moan as Haewon gladly flicks past her clit and fingers the dripping sex below.

“You too, Jini, put them on me. I love your smooth skin here I could—rub it forever.”

Jini gives it her all, always making sure to be spotless down there, which is quite the struggle in between all the schedules. But it’s the way Haewon likes it, Jini has never seen her with any hair down there. And so her fingers brush past the flawlessly shaven skin to the bundle that makes Haewon take deeper breaths—

—draws moans from her, loud and glorious, like her singing voice. The fingers dance, on the outside, then inside, back and forth, always careful. For the first time in a while, Jini feels her body relax, even as it twists and jerks at Haewon’s thrusting fingers and nipple-sucking lips. 

“Jini, you’re so sexy.” Haewon’s voice is deep and Jini can’t remember when they got completely naked and moved to the couch, but she doesn’t care. More important is Haewon’s pretty pink pussy on her face as she sits on it. Jini eagerly gets her tongue inside while she feels Haewon’s gaze admire her midriff, her thighs, her sex that is—

“You’re dripping~” Haewon moans.

“You too, Unnie.” Jini can’t get enough of that addictive taste. She’d love for her mouth to be filled with it; to make Haewon cum messily has always been her goal. Up until now, it’s been amazing but not yet the way she imagined it. She will have to work harder, while her Unnie rubs up and down her clit.

“You’re about to cum again, I can feel it. Your hips are jerking up.”

“Just because your hands are so good, Unnie~”

Jini can feel Haewon smile against her crotch, those lips kiss right above her slit, never the way she does it, but it’s enough. Jini’s eyes tear up for the second time this night and with the flick of her tongue, Haewon makes her scream.

“Unnie, Unnie, I’m—”

Jini’s hips lose all their tension when her orgasm subsides and she falls into the cushions. In her blissful state, she forgets her duty to eat Haewon out, so the elder just chuckles and rubs her cunt on her nose. She will do so until the deed is finished and Jini can only admire her beautiful, stunningly hot and talented lover throw her head back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jini, I love you.”

“I love you too, Unnie.”

#

Jini has been warned, but no warning would have been sufficient for the absolute lack of touch, of intimacy, of love that was about to come in the following months. All there was was training, dancing until your legs fall off, singing until your ears are ringing—then came the posing for cameras. 

The idol life she has always dreamed of finally started. It’s been a tough road, now she is living her dream, a dream filled with the painful reminder that she truly has to sacrifice everything. From a normal childhood to freetime to all kinds of relationships.

She knew about the last part, but it’s a different kind of sacrifice. If you can never find a person to love, you don’t know what you’re missing. However, if the person you love is right there and the only interaction you have is a bad quickie on the toilet, the pain will sting and remind her forever.

About that quickie, it was hasty, a dumb decision that wasn’t even a decision. Haewon had forgotten to close the door and Jini came bursting in because she needed time away from everyone, it was all too loud and if she had to listen to ‘Tank’ one more time—

They both just locked the door and locked lips. Haewon sat back down and pulled down the shorts of Jini’s stage outfit. It was all spontaneous, so Jini wasn’t properly shaven and Haewon did nothing to hide her visible disgust. However, she didn’t say anything and so Jini rode her thighs, admiring that beautiful face that still had a glint of hope for their relationship in her eyes. A tiny glint that Haewon did not try to uphold.

Other than that, she did not cum, neither did Haewon, and they both wordlessly left. No ‘I love you’ or a goodbye kiss—no one could suspect a thing. On this day, Jini’s heart started to break properly. She let it happen until a final surge had her bursting into Haewon’s and Sullyoon’s shared room.

“Haewon-unnie, we need to talk.”

“Oh my God, Jini, you scared me!” 

Haewon slams the laptop in front of her shut. The entire room is filled in darkness, except for a faint light in the tiny, corner bathroom. Jini is in her haze, induced by alcohol, induced by sadness, but mostly induced by the desperate desire to get back to Haewon, back to her lover. She just walks over and wraps an arm around the leader's waist. 

Unlike the beautiful times before, Jini is pushed away by a cold hand, stiff and it feels so heartless. She can’t see Haewon’s face but she knows it must have the same coldness. Is there anything left? Any heat from their past love that could move her an inch?

“I-I missed you,” Jini whimpers.

“Sullyoon is right there, you can’t just—”

“What is—” A sleepy Sullyoon stands in the door frame, a yawn interrupts her words and she blinds everyone by finding the light switch with her hand. “—happening here? Jini, what are you doing here?”

“I—I…”

“She was looking, no, bringing me something,” Haewon interjects and grabs Jini’s wrist. “I’ll come back in a second. Sorry for waking you up, Sully.” 

Sullyoon’s eyes switch from one girl to the other before she weakly nods and moves back into the bathroom. The moment the door closes, Haewon drags Jini out of the room and the two find a quiet corner somewhere in the endless corridors of a mostly empty, dimly lit dormitory.

“Jini, what the fuck?” Haewon growls angrily and her eyes punch holes into Jini’s heart—her words follow quickly. She must not be thinking how much it hurts. “You can’t just do this, what will they think? Don’t touch me like that, not in public!”

“I-it was just a hug, everyone hugs in public.”

“But you do it differently. They will see, and they cannot—”

“Why?” Now Jini shouts and tears stream and fists fly against the next wall. “Why, why, why? I don’t care what they think! They can know it, they can hate us—fuck, Haewon, I just want you, I love you!”

“Jini you—this will kill our careers.”

“I don’t care.”

“You.” Haewon holds her mouth in shock. She steps back, her hand no longer on Jini’s wrist. “You can’t be serious.” 

The shift in her eyes is beyond eerie. No horror film could ever encapsulate how scary this is. To see the person you love, your lover, turn from sadness to anger—away from everything Jini knew and loved—to poison. Words cannot reach her any longer, whatever Jini says will be held against her, it will all blow up. Even the L-word, it is powerless.

Nothing can be salvaged. But Jini will only realize this later.

“I am, I lo—”

“You just want to fuck me, is it that? Jini, you don’t give a fuck about my career, what I worked for, huh? You just want to have sex with me, and everyone can know it—you disgust me.”

“No, what, Haewon that’s—”

“Stop it, stop saying my name! You, I don’t want to hear it!”

Haewon reaches for Jini’s shirt—no, this is not one of Jini’s shirts. It’s the final Haewon-shirt she holds dear to her heart. The only remnants of their intimacy, hidden deep in her closet. She only wears it every now and then and now, in what is the nightmare of her life.

“That’s how you play, you take everything. My love, my career, my fucking t-shirts.” Haewon pulls at the hem. Jini fights back at first but with every tug she feels all power leave her body. But once again, it’s Haewon’s eyes and her poisonous words that kill her spirit. “You are such a piece of shit, Jini. To think I ever loved you.”

“What?”

“Give it back, give me back my youth, my love!”

“B-but Haewon, I love you, really!”

“Never say that again. You just played with my heart!”

The t-shirt is in Haewon’s hands, a couple of strings and tatters falling off of it. Jini falls to her knees in between them, only dressed in her bra and some pathetic gray sweatpants that quickly darken as her tears fall onto them. Haewon scoffs, her face puffy and angry. She is about to cry as ugly as Jini is, but this endless anger keeps her from doing it now. 

For a few seconds, she just stands there breathing, looking at the salty rivers running down Jini’s face. They are no crocodile tears, genuine, absolutely real—but she dismisses it all and faces away from her former girlfriend.

“We had nothing,” Haewon whispers and walks away. “I wish I’d never met you.”

And Jini cries the entire night.

#

The only thing paler than Jini’s face is the wall behind her manager. Jini has been fixated on it ever since she entered the office room. It’s like she can look right through it, see what could have been—the prosperous idol career she always dreamed of, fun group activities, a successful love life in secrecy. 

The disbelief in her manager’s eyes is like a mirror that suddenly reflects the truth back to her. Jini’s dream is a lie and now she has to face it, face to face with a livid man who has his palms on the desk. He can make the floor shake.

“You, you can’t be serious!”

“I am!” That shout was easy on her lips, easier than it should have been, with a heavy, racing heart, Jini stands up. She won’t back down to him, she will get her way out of here. “I don’t want to stay here for another day, I—”

“What the fuck, Jini!” In his rage, Jini’s manager stomps to the wall and smashes a small picture, its frame crashing down to the floor in a thousand sharp pieces. Now the wall is even paler and Jini can see that her real future might as well be an immovable object she is running straight into, head first, blood all over her—

“I will leave,” Jini proclaims, loud and unmistakable through the choleric pants of her enraged manager. “Or else I’ll let the world know what happens in this company.”

“Shut up.” A pained laugh as he looks down at the mess of colorful splinters and a now worthless picture. “You’re bluffing.”

“Oh yeah? I know at least half a dozen staff members who are a bit too fond of the trainees. Those helpless, naive, young little boys and girls.” Jini steps closer; he is now the palest in the room, both the light and the wall are no match. “That’s why I picked you. You did no such things. You just looked away, like we all did.”

“Jini, you stupid—”

“Stop defending them, for fucks sake.”

Every muscle in Jini’s body is filled with tension. She could really use some release, more than mere screams. A punching bag, some crazy rapid workout or maybe just a few drinks to knock her out. It’s the opposite for her manager, who lifelessly flops onto his chair and looks like he’d vomit at the next movement. Jini has never seen him cry and this might be the moment he does without actually showing tears.

“I—I can’t, this is my dream job, my future, my life.”

“It was mine too. Dreams die, so let me leave.”

“Why now? I just got this position and you’re going to ruin my chances of ever getting back.”

The manager starts to sob, though he cannot admit it. Jini feels sick to the stomach, while her anger does not fade. When he turns around, she just imagines the blank face of Haewon and her venomous words. She can argue against that all night, all day until it frees her of this hell hole.

“I’ve looked away for too long,” Jini proclaims and reaches for her coat. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m leaving. Don’t try to stop me or else.”

“You’re cruel, Jini, I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

“Good.” She opens the door. On the other end of the long hallway are her former members, waddling to their next practice session or photo shooting or music show. Whatever. Luckily, she can only see their backs, each of them a bit exposed, sweaty—then there is Haewon, her hand on Sullyoon’s back, a bit too intimate. “You won’t even hear from me, I’m basically dead.”

#

“Hey, it’s me.” Jini is about to ignore and delete the voicemail, but this is from a person that actually cares about her. “I heard what happened. Look, I dunno why it happened or if you are feeling good or bad about it—I’m just your idiot brother after all—but I know just the place you might need right now. I’ll send you the address. Don’t worry, it’s girls only. From what I heard, they are very popular amongst your kind. I really hope you’re doing fine.”

Jini cracks a weak smile. She hasn’t left her apartment in days, only reaching out to very specific friends to tell them about what happened,  her decision to leave the company. Actually, no one knows about her break up, the relationship with Haewon. It was all a well-kept secret not even her best friends knew about. 

As for her brother, he is the only one in her family who knows about her sexuality. The rest would most likely not accept her, hell, her father hasn’t really talked to her ever since she became a trainee. Jini’s life has developed far away from her family, especially her other relatives. Hearing her brother's voice feels like a relief with the bitter aftertaste of loneliness. Lonely, like the tiny apartment room she now lives in. 

Maybe it’s time for her to go out again. One night of nothing but drinking and mindless flirting, regretting it all the next day—and then it’s time for her to look forward. She can’t stay in this apartment, this state of sorrow and grief forever. Before this new found feeling of ‘fuck it all’ can go away, she puts on her prettiest dress and a tiny bit of make-up. Luckily, the bar is not too far away.

“If you promise to visit me, I might pay for a few of your drinks ;-P” Send by Idiot Brother

Jini’s second smile is already a lot stronger.

#

To Jini’s shock, she does not find a small and cozy lesbian bar with a couple of hot, single girls. The place is fucking huge, probably the biggest in all of Korea. There is a constant influx of women, usually in pairs and groups, standing together, talking, drinking, partying. The noisiness, paired with the all black and rough looking interior makes Jini quickly order and down her first cocktail. Something, something tequila. When she watches couple after couple make out all around her, she grabs her second one. Something, something vodka.

“Hey, do I know you?” the bartender asks her, voice firm and concerned.

“Nah, it’s my first time here,” Jini responds and shakes her head. A terrible idea. She can feel the alcohol flooding her head and already doing its thing. Soon, she’ll lose control—and gradually forget about the Haewon-shaped hole in her heart.

“Oh, I didn’t mean from here.” The bartender leans forward, towards Jini. She stares at the former idol, clearly unsure about something. “Maybe from the news or something?”

“Not possible, I’m not—famous.

“C-can I get another one? A Daiquiri?”

“Sure, gimme a second.” The bartender walks to the other end of the bar.

Jini’s heart starts to race. For a second, she was famous. An idol of JYP Entertainment, of course that is enough for people to recognize her. Leaving the group does not evaporate her fame. Clearly the bartender must have seen some posters or news about her. How could she forget about something like that? What’s going to happen now? Can she really go unrecognized through this night?

Suddenly, someone grabs her arm. Jini would shriek, but the liquor is already slowing her reaction time down.

“You shouldn’t be here,” a serious voice from behind her says. Jini turns towards the woman, but a mask covers her face. The uncovered eyes however look very familiar. 

“D-do I know you?” Jini asks and hopes that the bartender returns. She does not. Crap.

“There is a different area for people like us. Quick, before someone recognizes you!” 

Jini’s arm is in the firm grasp of this stranger who drags her through the bar without a care for the other partying woman. Jini tries to apologize, but the liquor already weighs her tongue down and so she is quietly staggering behind her kidnapper. An inconspicuous door later and the two are in a lot quieter area with multiple security people scanning them. 

“It’s safer here, trust me,” the woman says and removes her mask. Jini needs a second and a good shake of her head to realize who just pulled her out of the bar into—another bar.

“A-aren’t you… Kang Seulgi? The Seulgi!?”

“Sorry for not introducing myself.” Seulgi scratches her head and then combs her slightly sweaty hair back. “But it was necessary. You can’t run around like this when you’re literally—”

“Huh, is this dress too revealing?” Jini interrupts, her voice drowsy, a bit unhinged. She tries to pull down the hem of her dress before Seulgi grabs her shoulders and shakes her entire body.

“Girl, you are the top news story of today! Everyone knows you, everyone who gives a tiny fuck about our genre thinks about you. This was the worst day to just show up at the biggest lesbian bar in all of Seoul. If anyone saw you—did anyone see you?”

Jini tries to think real hard, a finger pressed to her lips, forehead in wrinkles. She does not notice how she sways from one foot to the other, dangerously close to just slumping  backwards, then forwards. Seulgi gently puts a hand to her back and guides her towards a corner with neat tables and cute chairs.

“Th-Thank you,” Jini whispers and tries to keep eye contact with the older idol. Her beauty and the fact that she is right there, a genuinely concerned look on her bear-like features has a bigger effect on Jini than any of the first drinks she’s had. “Sorry, I’m a bit… tipsy. B-but maybe, the bartender. She might have recognized me, maybe.”

Seulgi sighs in relief. “Okay, if it’s just one of them there is no need to be concerned. If you believe it or not, it’s not the first time a gay idol icon has just walked into a regular bar—it’s a miracle that they haven’t been in the news before.”

“S-so you’re saying that there are more idols l-like us? Wait, are you into g-girls too, Seulgi?!”

Seulgi raises an eyebrow and leans back on her chair. A black, leather jacket, at least a size too big, hangs down her shoulders. Beneath it is a loose crop top that exposes her insanely attractive midriff. To finish it off, her tight black pants are pulled high above her waist and hint at, almost teasing a navel. Seulgi is stunning, definitely made for the girls, as they say. “Don’t tell me that this is a surprise to you? What’s next? Exy or Eunseo suddenly like men?”

Jini’s eyes open wide. Before she becomes incoherent however, she falls back down to earth, her face buried in her hands. Of course there are more lesbian and gay idols, hell, she has been in a relationship with one of them. This reminder of Haewon has set things in motion. Melancholy spreads in Jini’s mind and it is only a soft hand on her head that distracts her.

“Hey, sorry about that.” Seulgi smiles softly. “I remember being a baby gay too, visiting this bar for the first time and being surprised at how many girls are like me. I promise, the longer you stay here, the more often you come here, the easier it will be to accept and understand things.”

Jini lazily looks around. She notices idols and other famous people, namely actresses and athletes sitting everywhere in this cozy bar. The music is a lot quieter, so the screams and dancing from next door are clearly audible. If she is honest, none of the people she recognizes truly shocks her. They were all already ‘probably not straight’ in her head, in her reality.

“It’s not even about that,” Jini suddenly begins to explain. “Like, I of course kinda knew you were into women, that’s why me and many others admired you. You showed us that it’s possible, even if we can’t be fully open about it. No, it’s because you all remind me of… her, and it hurts like hell.”

Seulgi’s orbs widen a bit and she starts to caress Jini’s hand. “Do you want to tell me what happened? Or should I get us some drinks and we just get black out drunk and forget everything, all our worries?”

“How about both?” Jini asks with a weak smile and Seulgi reciprocates it. She quickly skips over to the bar where the bartender is swift at preparing two colorful cocktails. Jini has no idea what it is she is sipping, but it tastes good and does the job. No reason for her to care.

“So, feel free to tell me,” Seulgi says and takes a huge first swing from her drink. “As much as you want, as much as you need.”

“It’s all just shit. A whole lot of shit.” Another sip. The drink is growing on Jini, or maybe it’s the fact that she is suddenly scared to talk about it. If only Seulgi, the older one, the clearly more experienced girl would make the first step. 

“Losing your career?” Seulgi suddenly asks, somewhat mindlessly, and Jini feels her heart drop, ache, break while she somehow cracks a smile from somewhere.

“That and the way it happened. But I can’t go back. It hurts so much.”

“Oh, that sounds like I can relate,” Seulgi says, then scoffs as her hand reaches over the table to pull Jini’s cocktail glass down. “Slow down, babe, or you’ll drown in it.”

Jini blushes, almost drops her drink and spits out the rest. That word, the nice b-word, shouldn’t roll off of her tongue so easily. Seulgi is so nonchalant and sexy about it, seeming to not mind flattering the young girl while also clearly enjoying it. To make matters better, she puts her hand atop Jini’s and starts her own story with a smile.

“I had this thought of quitting multiple times. Everytime we fight, she makes me feel like I’m not good enough—only her stress reliever. It’s like she just sees me as a sex toy. Hell, I don’t mind if the entire world just sees me as a body—but from her, I want more. Worst of all, she knows it and still flip-flops. I wish I could just stop loving her or find the courage to quit, but I simply… can’t.”

“Who,” Jini gulps. “Who are you talking about?”

Seulgi shakes her head and locks eyes with Jini. The sudden seriousness and fierceness overwhelms the younger girl. It’s like Seulgi looks right through her, as if her head is made out of glass and every memory of Haewon is replaying like a 4k movie. The truth is sucked right out of Jini as the thought about her ex-girlfriend loving her intimately starts to hurt like daggers in her soul.

“You have a girlfriend too, huh? Gorgeous, hot, your whole obsession—and very toxic at the same time.”

“I-I… I had. We broke up. I ran away. I couldn’t stand what she said to me. But I still love her, I want her more than ever.”

Jini drops her head to the table, hand firmly around the glass. She tries to squeeze it, crush it, like it’s that last remnant of yearning for Haewon inside her heart. But the glass slips and she spills the rest of the ice cold drink over her dress. A frustrated gasp from her.

“Oh God, you can’t be serious…”

“Looks like he is serious,” Seulgi jokes with clenched teeth as she gets up and kneels next to Jini. With some paper towels, she tries to dry off Jini’s dress as best as she can, but the stain looks like it will stay for the rest of the night.

“Don’t sweat it,” Jini says, flustered again. “I think after this night, it’s not going to be the only stain. And also, I really do not care if I smell of alcohol after tonight.”

“So you really do plan on getting drunk.”

“So drunk that I’ll forget about both of our toxic relationships,” Jini responds with a smile. Before she can raise her hand to order another drink, Seulgi dashes away and returns almost instantly with two red cocktails.

“These are super sweet, with vodka. I bet you’ll love the taste and suddenly—bliss will hit you like a train.” Seulgi starts to drink first as if she was talking to herself. Thus ends the heavy chatter and light fun begins. Both girls crack jokes left and right and fill the bar with louder and louder noises. Laughter, laughter everywhere until they are kindly asked to move ‘upstairs’. Jini has no idea what’s ‘upstairs’, but she simply follows Seulgi who helps her up a hidden staircase behind the bars. The older girl is giggling like crazy, while Jini is confused about all the secrets in this mysterious bar. 

“Where are we even… going,” Jini mumbles, complains, then laughs again as her head gets dizzy from the short exercise. 

“Just some private room for private things,” Seulgi lewdly giggles and presses herself against Jini’s back as the door to a simple hostel room opens. Simple in design and layout, simple in lighting as there is only the faint moonlight illuminating the interior. Jini’s unfocused, unbothered eyes fall onto a bed and suddenly, she falls onto the bed as well. Seulgi must have guided her through the room, the door closed for privacy, and now they are entangled on the bed.

“Private things?” Jini asks sheepishly and looks back at Seulgi. The way the full moon reflects off of her pale skin and those wonderful, dreamy, drunk eyes suddenly erases the stinging pain deeply stuck in her heart. Jini never believed in miracles, but she just found hope, peace and love in her hopeless state of mind.

“Oh, you know, like talking about more serious matters,” Seulgi ponders, her tone drastically sarcastic as she drags a finger from Jini’s thigh over her curves up to her chin. “Or not talking at all~”

“B-but I think it’s very important to-to talk, before, uhm.” Jini tries her best. She fights against her drunkness, her dazzled mind and relaxed body. Although they all urge her to go on and just kiss the girl spooning her, holding her waist and her chin, Jini does not want to rush it. She stops before her lips meet Seulgi’s and her glassy eyes tell the older woman that the uncertainty is real. It can even trump the enhanced state of drunkenness they are both in.

“Then tell me, oh pretty girl, what important things do you want to talk about? I’ll try my best, but I’m really wasted, like I won’t comprehend your question properly, probably, prolally.”

Jini pouts and holds onto that smooth arm that secures her body to Seulgi’s. She can feel the amazing shape Seulgi is in. Trained, strong even, a nice bust and incredible hips. No, they are all urging her to just lose it. Jini wants to lose to the booze and the smell of Seulgi’s lips and very faint, but mind-melting perfume—but for now, she resists.

“I—I don’t want to stop! I want to sing and dance and be an idol and—shit, this won’t stop me. But I’m scared, because I’m gay. I’m gay and they are not. Sorry they can’t relate—but I know they won’t even tolerate it. I-I can’t even have an open, truthful job interview because of it!”

Jini’s ramble is stopped by Seulgi releasing a deep, somewhat unhinged sigh. It’s as if she couldn’t hide her frustration any longer. At first, Jini thinks she screwed up and just lost a night of (most likely) great sex. However, Seulgi, after a short stint of eye contact with the ceiling, locks eyes with Jini again. This time, she looks fierce, more determined than Jini has ever seen before.

“I know you, I can relate. I felt very similar. But all these ‘can’t’ and ‘won’t’ will never get you anywhere. It might not look like it, but there are cool people out there. They don’t care about who you like. They can manage your career around that, give you the necessary freedoms and can even hire good producers fairly often. There is a way around all the shit, believe me.”

“I want to believe,” Jini mewls and slams her fist into the bed and it creaks. “But for that, such a person not only had to exist but also have enough money to run a company or something; and fuck, it’s like only assholes run the biggest businesses.”

Seulgi rolls her eyes and laughs. “If only there was an experienced idol nearby that could help you to find such a person. But what do I know? I’m just a drunk lesbian talking to some rookie who’s like eight years younger than me.”

“Ten, actually,” Jini responds with a pout, but she quickly laughs when Seulgi’s drunk brain actually gets a small, shocked expression to form on that gorgeous, moonlit face. “Ten years that I don’t mind.”

“It’s still quite a lot, damn.” Seulgi bites her lip. Suddenly, Jini feels like she is even closer with the Red Velvet member. Maybe it’s because they are facing each other now, quick breaths touching the other, hands on the other's body. Maybe it’s because Seulgi reaches for Jini’d chin again and tilts her towards her lips in a way that is nonchalant and deadly. The temptation is too great.

“You know you’re an icon for younger idols—in fact many girls in and out of the closet? They wouldn’t mind this age gap; neither do I.”

“Oh yeah?” Seulgi asks, more sure of herself now as she presses her lips onto Jini’s and momentarily shuts the other girl down. For a few seconds after the disconnect, Jini is still mentally paralyzed and doesn’t realize that her hands are tugging at Seulgi’s clothes in an attempt to get rid of them. “I’ve heard they like me, but to be this crazy for someone ten years older? I think that’s just you—and all that booze is helping a lot.”

“C-can we still fuck?” Jini bluntly asks in a daze.

“Hm, sure. Let me show you something~”

Seulgi drops her jacket. It glides off her arms and Jini’s gaze follows it before Seulgi directs it back at her. The older girl is on top, her arms next to Jini’s head as she leans down for another kiss. This time, it’s passionate, a rapid attack of lips on lips and tongue on tongue. A bit too fast, a bit too violent, but actually just right for Jini. She wouldn’t want it any other way. This is so unlike Haewon, so surreal in fact that it’s more comparable to a wet dream than any masturbation or pornography. 

Seulgi is absurd, the way she controls the kiss and presses her body on top of Jini’s. Instinctively, the younger girl tries to wrap her arms and legs around the one attacking her mouth, but Seulgi has different plans. She gently pushes Jini’s limbs away and makes sure she can lay in between her legs. At first Jini pouts, but then she feels what Seulgi wants to show her.

It’s akin to a dance. Seulgi’s hands roam from the top of Jini’s brown dress, along her arms and sides over her hips to the hem. In the meantime, the lips disconnect and draw a line of kisses down the dress, making sure to pay attention to all the stains of vodka, gin and rum. Jini knows where those lips will end up and the thought alone is sending her into a frenzy.

“How is this?” Seulgi asks, her cheek resting on Jini’s abdomen, her fingers playing with the hem of that dress, already carefully pushing it up her thighs. 

“F-fantastic, oh God,” Jini groans and takes a deep breath when she looks down her body into Seulgi’s dazed eyes. Although Jini knows it’s just a reflection of moon light, nothing too special, it genuinely looks like Seulgi’s eyes are glowing on their own. A soft, cold light that sends a shiver down Jini’s spine—a shiver that is suddenly across her entire body when Seulgi’s mouth disappears behind that pulled up dress. “Y-yes, right there!”

A tongue on her thong, expertly finding the aroused nub below. Seulgi is clearly no stranger to this, which is emphasized by her not stopping. Her actions are nonstop. A twirl here, a strong lick there. Fluid motions from start to finish and Jini is tweaking, wetting her already arousal-stained thong with more of her fresh juice to the point she can’t keep eye contact anymore.

“Look at me, babe,” Seulgi commands softly, and Jini stands at attention. Somehow she keeps her upper body upright on her arms, but it’s all unstable, trembling. “I want you to go all out. Don’t hold back. Wrap your thighs around my head, pull my hair if you need you. I want you to cum on and on and on.”

“S-Seulgi, I—I’m not shaven, I—”

“Like I care.”

Too late and all over. Seulgi has a finger on the weakest spot, pulling aside that thin garment and leaving Jini exposed. Seulgi does not wait. Her tongue caresses the aching core and Jini presses it onto her face with a shriek. She is a moaning mess and she wants to be even louder. Seulgi knows and so she fiddles her clit, licks that cunt, goes all out until Jini is screaming profanities.

“Fuck, yes, lick me, fuck! Seulgi, eat my pussy, yes!”

A suck on her clit and Jini wraps her legs around Seulgi’s head. The older girl is delighted that her prophecy became true and continues. It’s like she has never done anything else in her life. Her girlfriend must truly be a lucky bitch, Jini thinks and tries to curse at this unknown person—but all her curses are those of pleasure. Pleasure, just pleasure. No more Haewon, no more JYP, just Seulgi eating her out until she is silly.

“I’m so close, you’re getting me close, I can’t—”

Jini pulls at Seulgi’s messy hair in an attempt to hold out a little bit longer. However, it’s all for nought. Not a single second longer. Jini explodes and floods Seulgi’s tastebuds with her runny nectar. Her head falls backwards into a pillow. 

“Oh, we are not yet finished,” Seulgi laughs. Her voice is horny, a little bit crazy and very much drunk. She grabs both Jini’s waist and her back and pulls her up. Suddenly, the young woman finds herself seated on Seulgi’s thigh at the edge of the bed. “I need to see your face more. I want to hear you cum again, baby.”

“Ah, if-if you call me that, I—” Jini blushes. She can barely catch her breath with her face covered in her hands. Seulgi, however, continues. It’s for the best. It’s for Jini’s pleasure. She gets rocked back and forth on Seulgi’s thigh, her dripping core stimulated once more.

“Now I want to call you it more,” Seulgi whispers, one hand on Jini’s hips, the other trying to cup the idol’s face. “My baby. Cum on me. Forget about everything and just love me hard for tonight. I want you loud, cum so fucking loud that the neighbours start to complain.”

“I might, I might,” Jini moans and throws an arm around Seulgi’s shoulder. The two share an intimate gaze before Seulgi’s lips crash down on Jini’s chin. Another exposed weak spot that sends Jini spiraling into an abyss of more and more pleasure. She is falling, but not from Seulgi’s thigh. The older girl makes sure of that. 

Soon Jini is riding on her own, wetting those black jeans. She finds it a bit sad that Seulgi gives her everything but she can’t seem to give her pleasure back. In an attempt to change this, Jini tries to sneak a hand into the top of Seulgi’s jeans after opening the button. At first successful, then futile. It urges Seulgi on more. She plants her fingers on Jini’s clit and rubs her in circles. 

“Oh, fuck, Seul-gi!”

The tempo is slow but perfect. The timing is immaculate and Jini becomes a fountain. She squirts out her second orgasm all over Seulgi’s crotch, drenches her clothes and the edge of the bed in her girl cum, all while her voice finds new levels of volume. The bed shakes, the ceiling shakes, Jini’s world shakes as her orgasm washes everything away. Before the concoction of alcohol and orgasmic pleasure can push her into a blissful slumber, Seulgi kisses her with a giggle.

“After you wake up, you better get rid of my pants before using your fingers, babe~”

#

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you. You must be Miss Choi? Miss Kang told me a lot about you.” 

“The pleasure is all mine, but please, just call me Jini. I’ve always been called by my stage name.”

“I’d love to do that. How about we sit down and you just tell me a little bit about yourself? I know that this organization has, rightfully so, put a lot of trust into your abilities. I personally value the recommendation of Miss Kang a lot, but I’d like you to tell me more, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t mind at all. I think that my personal manager should know what they are getting into. I wouldn’t want to surprise you with something.”

“Wwe are on the same page then. Excellent.”

“It might sound a bit odd, but I think I should start off by saying that I, uhm, like girls and have a… very vibrant life when it comes to relationships and… yeah.”

“Oh, I can’t say this surprises me.”

“Uhm, what?”

“Well, I know Miss Kang has certain tendencies when it comes to this. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind and I don’t care. As long as I know everything I need to know to manage around certain things, you are free to do whatever you like.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s my job as your manager to support and protect you.” 

“You have no idea how much this means to me!”

You scratch the back of your head. The beautifully dressed girl in front of you smiles from one ear to the other, lyrics sheet in one hand, in the other the freshly signed contract. You don’t know why, but you surely seemed to have made her smile. So smile back. 

“You’re welcome, I guess?”

[1dream-big1]

Jouw liefdesleven is een sticky situation

soo, uh, i wrote my first fanfiction and smut ever. this is explicit rpf, please just scroll away if you're against it.

summary: horny joost jerking off in the shower and thinking about the reader pairing: joost x fem!reader word count: around 1.9k cw: 18+, jerking off, mentions of unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), handjob, no use of y/n, all lowercase

not proof read, i only used grammarly to check for random mistakes since english is my second language lol.

all these festivals were getting exhausting – not just physically, but also mentally. sure, it was fun, addicting even, to have all these people shouting his name, his lyrics, being completely enamoured by his mere existence. it wasn’t always just positive, sometimes he would have people looking for him, digging up personal things, being disrespectful. it hurt, but unfortunately, that was just a part of being famous. he didn’t want to think about that though. 

he just finished another performance – the energy was great, everything went well, yet he couldn’t shake off this weird feeling. the whole crew decided to go out for a few drinks. that would for sure help with that feeling, right? it was something they used to do way more often, but lately, the hype was too much and it was hard for him to unwind and truly enjoy the rest of the evening when he wasn’t sure if someone was secretly watching him, taking photos, or recording him. this city, however, was quite lowkey. they all went to a place where they had a vip space reserved for them. the music was okay, not his taste, but it didn’t make his ears bleed. not that it mattered in the end, all he wanted was to just get his goddamn beer. maybe the alcohol hitting his bloodstream would help with the feeling which he still wasn’t able to shake off. the conversation was fun, filled with so many inside jokes and stupid memes that they had seen on social media, but the uneasiness still sat deep inside him even after several beers. he didn’t want to drink more, they all had to leave pretty early the next day, and traveling with a bad hangover wasn’t exactly on his to-do list. 

„not to be the party pooper,“ he interrupted the ongoing chat and continued: „i think i’ll leave you here. something’s kinda off, i dunno, think i just need to shower and sleep.“ he got up, grabbing his hoodie that was lying next to him on the couch. „no worries, man, get some rest,“ said one of his friends, they all exchanged goodbyes and with the hoodie over his head he left the bar. it was already around midnight, he could hear some people yelling in the distance but he didn’t really pay any attention to the noise. the cold breeze felt good, „smells like summer,“ he thought to himself as he breathed in the fresh air and smiled. so many crazy memories made during such nights. he stopped under a flickering post lamp, dug into one of his pockets, and took out a pack of cigarettes, all of them almost gone. „shit, i’ll have to buy some tomorrow,“ he muttered under his breath as he was taking one of the cigarettes, putting it between his lips. he lit the cigarette, smoke filling his mouth and then inhaling it all. the walk towards the hotel didn’t take him too long, in just under ten minutes, he was standing in front of his room and unlocking the door. 

the room was spacious, and quite fancy as well, there was some expensive-looking modern art hanging over the king-sized bed. it didn’t matter to him that much though. as long as he got to sleep somewhere. he used to move so much, going from couch to couch, living in different foster families’ houses. nothing felt like home, not even his own house. the only time he actually felt at home was in your embrace. „shit,“ he sighed as he started thinking about you. he really missed the feeling of you two being together in bed, him lying on top of you and you holding him closely, one hand caressing his back while the other one was lightly scratching his scalp. feeling your chest lift with each breath, you kissing him on the top of his head, playing with his hair. such intimate moments that were taken away from him while he was doing all these shows. he sighed again and rubbed his eyes. all he could think about was you, making out with you and touching all the sensitive places that always made you lightly moan into his mouth and lean into his touch.

he pulled off his hoodie and threw it somewhere haphazardly, then removed his shirt and pulled his pants off, kicking both in the same direction as the hoodie. he looked down at his polo ralph lauren boxers and felt himself get excited from all those thoughts about you. all those whimpers, you whispering: „fuck, joost, please don’t stop,“ into his ear as you’re getting close to your climax while he’s thrusting into you, his fingers circling your clit. it was driving him crazy. he reached down and palmed his growing erection. for a second, he contemplated jerking off right on the spot, but he needed a shower anyway – he might as well just get off in the shower. he groaned at the sensation of his hand slowly stroking himself through his underwear. „fuck, schat, i miss you so much,“ he thought and finally walked into the bathroom, where he removed his last piece of clothing. 

he looked at himself in the mirror, his hands slowly roaming over his body, the skin feeling a bit sticky from all the sweat. he liked being gentle with himself like this, sometimes he would just wrap his arms around his body and feel the self-love. in the end, that is the most real love anyone can get in this world. he pinched his nipple and watched his dick twitch – yet again it surprised him how sensitive his nipples were. the thoughts of you kissing his chest, your hands caressing his soft tummy, your lips moving to his nipples and softy licking them, kissing them, gently biting them filled his mind. all this always made him arch his back and whimper your name, desperate pleas to wrap your hand around his hard cock already ready to escape his mouth. his hand continued down his happy trail, the movement was so slow, he was so pent up yet for some reason decided to tease himself like that. maybe because that was something you would always do? always using your fingertips and light touches to build up the tension and make the release even more powerful. „fucking hell,“ he let out a moan as he finally wrapped his hand around himself, stroking his cock a few times. it was so lewd, masturbating right in front of the mirror, watching himself get harder – „shit, what if there are cameras?“  an intrusive thought entered his brain, but he immediately shook his head to get rid of it. „okay, fuck, shower,“ he realised and finally entered the stall. 

he set the shower head to rain and sighed at the sensation. it felt so good, warm water gently falling on his skin and he wished he could share the moment with you. you’d press your body on his, push one of your legs between his, and feel him slowly grind your thigh, his leaking tip touching your stomach with each thrust. then you’d get on your knees and look up while wrapping your lips around the tip, your right hand working on the rest of his cock while the other hand would massage his balls. he was sure he wouldn’t last for a long time, his hand would stroke himself so fast and then come all over your tongue and lips. he knew the taste wasn’t good at all, he was smoking too much, but you still swallowed because his reaction was so worth it plus it made the cleanup so much easier. all these thoughts were too much, he was slowly losing himself in all this. he leaned towards the wall and stroked himself. he looked down, his dick fully erect, he knew he was pretty big, and the size was especially noticeable when your dainty hands were jerking him off instead. he moaned loudly and picked up the pace, already feeling himself getting close to the edge, even though it had been only a few minutes. 

his mind wandered again, this time he imagined pushing you against the shower wall, making you face it, slapping your ass, and positioning himself right at your entrance. he would tease you for a few seconds, to make both of you want it even more, then slowly push his dick inside you, letting you get used to his girth. it wouldn’t take long for him to start thrusting into you hard and fast – he loved taking his time, even being submissive and letting you take the lead, but sometimes, all he wanted was to fuck you senseless. he loved hearing your moans, calling out his name. yeah, fans screaming out: „joost klein!“ was great, but it was nothing compared to you moaning it when he was deep inside of you, his hands on your hips, moving them towards his body with each thrust, and his lips kissing you everywhere he could reach. it was such a dangerous game, fucking you raw with no birth control whatsoever, both of you not ready to bring a child into this world. he wished he could thrust into you deep and come inside, then watch his cum drip onto your pretty thighs. he’d always pull out and come on your body instead. 

„fuck, baby,“ he moaned loudly, his hand moving so fast on his dick that he was scared he’d get a cramp. his head fell back, he shut his eyes tight, and the thought of feeling you coming on his cock and your muscles squeezing him set him over the edge. he felt his dick twitch in his hand, his movements slowed down until he stopped completely, just holding his cock, and watched the cum that had fallen on the shower floor mix with the water. some of it got on his hand, „ugh,“ he muttered under his breath because it would always turn into such a sticky mess when mixed with water. he washed it off, grabbed a bottle of shampoo, and squeezed some of it in his palm. he massaged his scalp and wished you were there with him and helped him finish the shower. the sex was great, but it was these intimate moments, you slowly massaging his body with a loofah and cleaning him up, that made him feel so loved. he finished off the shower, wrapping a towel around his hips, not even bothering to dry off his wet body. he had a better idea on his mind – he quickly entered the bedroom, wincing at the cold air against his skin, and grabbed his phone. he opened up instagram, quickly found your messages, and opened the camera. he took a selfie, making sure you could see his body was all wet and the towel was dangerously low, showing off his trimmed pubes, and added a short caption: „miss you, schatje, so much. i just came so good thinking about you, baby. :-* can’t wait to get back to you. i love you, liefje. <3“ he set the photo to one view only and hit send.

[9w1ft]

i declare

thinking about the tortured poets department the song, and the charlie puth line, and how maybe like, the act of declaring he should be a bigger artist helps place the song into the greater timeline.

because it’s a sort of weird thing to say in 2024 of an artist that’s no longer up and coming.

charlie puth got his start in youtube in the late 2000’s and released his debut single in february 2015. and leading up to that he had several EP’s and promotional singles. it made me curious, at what point might the people en masse start to pay him attention? i checked google trends and as you can see here he gets a huge jump between the 2014 and 2015 data.

(he then gets a further jump toward 2016 when he did a promo single featuring megan trainor, and then doing “see you again” with wiz khalifa. (coincidentally this song becomes one of the guest duets featured in the 1989 tour movie))

and i was looking around at articles from this time period, when i ran into this tasty morsel:

so i clicked on through

take a little ride with me

so to summarize, charlie puth had his breakout star peak over the course of roughly 2014-2016, during which he was up for an award at the 2015 MTV VMAs. he doesn’t win, and in fact, he loses out to taylor herself! later on in the article it talks about him going to an after party and hanging out with taylor selena and others. so it had me thinking, i could almost imagine taylor talking with her friends that year or that night, or even declaring to charlie himself in the wake of his loss and her win, in a giddy manner, at the party they are reported as having talked at, that he deserves more success than he gets. in this way i came to the conclusion that the timeframe of 2015-ish (rather than 2023) really fits the spirit of the lyric “we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist”

and

yes.

yes fam.

the 2015 vmas was that vma’s.

that vmas.

let me pull quote an excerpt from the billboard article as i included above, just to emphasize:

4:40 PM: Charlie has the good fortune to walk the carpet in the wake of Taylor Swift’s gaggle of supermodel friends, including “Bad Blood” star Karlie Kloss, leading photographers to alternately yell “Charlie! Karlie! Charlie! Karlie!” as if it were a hectic version of Name Game. While on the carpet, Puth chats with multiple news outlets, and later he says of the dealing with the paparazzi, “It’s amazing that we view people in unnatural states and just love it. I don’t really understand it — it just makes me very uncomfortable. But, whatever. I’m so appreciative to be here.”

such a fun convergence of events, don’t ya think?

and just a few extra points i thought i’d add:

first, i don’t know how many of you remember how taylor was behaving that evening, but don’t you think she was giving major golden retriever energy??

both in how she was chasing after karlie that night,

and also… call me crazy but, her hairstyle??

(also she’s in a houndstooth print, har har)

and i can kind of envision this taylor, who brought the whole bad blood music video crew as her entourage, having more than several bars of chocolate at hand for everyone that night, but ending up eating them all herself 😆

and another thing that helps tie the song to this time period (maybe some of you have guessed?) the line “who else decodes you?” is extra apt because… *da da-da daaaaa*

🤗 karlie had just embarked on her coding journey!

on a more solemn note? i don’t think it requires too much of a stretch of the imagination to see “but you awaken with dread” “i chose this cyclone with you” among other lines pointing to the new layer of stress taylor probably was harboring around being with karlie in public. because this is all taking place in the year directly following kissgate 🥺

so there you have it folks! this is why the tortured poets department is a kaylor song to me 😌

[trashcanfanfics]

I see you're taking Jason Todd requests?👀 Hello, I'm new to the fandom btw! So... I thought of a scenario. What if the reader and Jason is on the edge of asking each other out, and he's on patrol one night, finding it quite boring, and the reader send him their playlist... only it was the reader's... ✨️spicy✨️ playlist?👀 As in, Arctic Monkeys (Do I wanna know?, Why'd you only call me when you're high?) and Two Feet (I feel like I'm drowning, Love is a bitch) type of vibes?

Thank you for your time and a pleasure to meet you!🥺

hi!!! omfg it's been too long since i've had a fresh ask!! i'm a long time enjoyer of dc but i'm new to writing for it, welcome to the fandom!!

It was one of those slow nights. No big baddies, only a few muggers, one shifty man following someone. Nothing big to distract Jason from his thoughts of you. How you were so close to him but it felt like miles. He could lie and say all he wanted was you to smile at him. Jason knew the truth, though. You could smile at him one hundred times and he'd want one hundred and one.

He texted you and smiled under the helmet as you ranted about your latest interest. It was so cute the way you'd misspell words in your frenzy. He felt giddy as he got another text from you.

[Name]: You said you're boeed?

[Name]: *bored

[Name]: Anyway I've been curating my personal playlist

[Name]: Give it a listen :) [link.spotify]

He clicked the link and scrolled through the songs idly, not really paying attention before he clicked on one. It connected to his helmet's comm piece. The slow beat hit him and he recognized it. Okay so one song. And then it progressed to more like that one.

Was this a subtle way of flirting? Was this because you wanted him like he wanted you? He was probably making it out to be more than it is. It's not like you even looked at him like that. You said it was your personal playlist. So you had to listen to this all the time. So it's probably nothing. Part of him wondered if you ever thought of him while listening to these songs. The thought made his heart jump.

He made up his mind. He grappled away across the rooftops all the way to your apartment. Jason hardly registered that he opened the door, your playlist still playing in his ears. You looked up from your phone on the couch.

"Jason?" You stood up and walked to him. He struggled to pull his helmet off. The sound of your playlist softly played into the air from it. You stiffened and looked at the helmet. "Is that the playlist I sent you?" He knew he was breathing a little too hard. You so close after he had the lyrics of the latest song bounced around his head had him dizzy.

"Yeah...It's good." He huffed a laugh and looked down at the helmet, still playing those soft, sensual songs. "It's your personal one?" He scratched some dirt off the chin. Jason looked back to you through his eyelashes, a small smirk playing at his lips. Your face looked mortified.

"No..." You voice was soft and full of horror. "I sent the wrong one." You covered your face with your hands and apologized. He tossed his helmet onto the nearby chair. His hands found your wrists, gently pulling your hands from your face.

"Well, I really like this playlist." His smirk turned into a full, teasing smile. Your embarrassment showed clearly on your face and you looked away from him. His heart fluttered at how cute you looked.

"I meant to send the other one." You mumbled and he leaned in slightly to hear you clearer. That made you clam up and glance at him before looking back to the side. He could feel your breath on his face and it drove him crazy.

"Look at me." He was practically begging. He needed you to look at him like he needed to breathe. You complied, gasping at how he leaned in further. His lips were so close to yours. If he just leaned in a bit more...

"Buy me dinner first." You chuckled nervously. Your comment made him blink, his senses coming back to him in an instant. He pulled away and let go of your wrists, clearing his throat. Jason mentally kicked himself for getting too caught up in the moment.

"Sure, how's Saturday sound?" He joked back, half serious. His heart jumped as you met his eye, a glint of determination in yours. You gulped and stood up straighter.

"It's a date." You looked serious. He felt his heart thump harshly, a bubble of hope filled his chest. Were you joking? You didn't look like it. It looked like you were far from joking. His mind raced, he couldn't think of anything to say.

"Huh?" Brilliant, Jason, truly so eloquent. He wanted to smash his head into a wall. You almost lost your resolve. He could see it in the way you started to fidget with your hands. You were nervous.

"A date. With me." You took a deep breath. "Only if you really want to." He couldn't believe it. A date. For real. His mind went blank and he found himself at a loss for words. The second time tonight. That should be a record. How many times can he blue screen in one night.

"That sounds--yeah. Uh I mean--" Shut up. Shut up. "I'll pick you up. Um, what time?" Your laugh had him blushing and looking over to his helmet, still playing the playlist. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Does six sound okay?" He looked back at you, composure back in his control.

"Yeah, that sounds perfect." You smiled. He couldn't wait. He wanted to lean in again and kiss you. There would be time for that later, he reminded himself. You said dinner first. He'll give you dinner. Then he'll get a kiss. Hopefully.

[joelalorian]

Lost Cause

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you shouldn’t waste your time on him. You disagree.

Warnings: Explicit MDNI; Jackson-era Joel; canon-ish but also not; drinking; mentions of cigarettes, drugs, dark thoughts, and death; unprotected p in v; oral (m and f receiving); interesting use of red wine; unspecified age gap; despair and hope.

Inspired by the song Save Me by Jelly Roll. Some of the lyrics have been woven into the story.

Word count: 2,594 oneshot

The hits just kept coming. Time after time, year after year, life just beat Joel Miller down. It started when he was young, always taken down a peg by someone who was supposed to love him unconditionally, no matter how hard he tried to build himself up. There was a brief respite when he had Sarah – those fourteen years were the happiest of his life, despite the sudden and unexpected nature of becoming a father so young, until it was all ripped away in the blink of an eye on that one horrific day.

Since then, he’d given up hoping for more. Life had completely shattered his hopes and dreams. He couldn’t even put himself out of his own misery, for fuck’s sake. Life hated him that much it wouldn’t even release its grasp on him. He was so damaged beyond repair, and he could do fuck all about it.

His latest hit was a sucker punch to the gut, though.

Just when he finally opened up his heart again, when he allowed himself to feel something other than misery again, that’s precisely when the hit came.

Ellie – sweet, feral child that she was – wanted nothing to do with him after finding out the truth of what happened to the Fireflies in Salt Lake City.

The fracture in his relationship with Ellie sent him spiraling out of control, resorting to old behaviors and vices – drinking too much at the Tipsy Bison, smoking pilfered cigarettes out back behind the bar, taking pills on the rare occasions he could get his hands on them. The nightmares returned no matter how blasted he got to chase them away and he was often moody from lack of sleep.

Joel still contributed to society in Jackson, but he did it in ways that he could keep to himself. Fixing things around town, building stuff in his workshop, taking the odd patrol shift with his brother. He avoided everyone but Tommy and Maria, and Ellie, if she didn’t flee from the very sight of him.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. What the fuck? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Because it almost worked!” Tommy was worked up, laying into Joel at the tail end of their patrol shift. He didn’t know if his older brother had a death wish or was just too hungover to pay proper attention, but Joel was nearly taken out by a clicker while they cleared their route. A clicker that he normally would have dispatched without much effort or thought. Joel cut it way too close this time.

Joel gazed at his brother with baleful eyes. He had nothing to say for himself. He did have a death wish, but how could he tell Tommy that?

Tommy knew Joel was struggling – his behavior was similar to what it had been after Sarah died, when he became a fraction of the man he had been. “Come on, let’s grab a drink at the Bison,” Tommy sighed. At a loss on how else to help him, Tommy often accompanied Joel to the bar despite already thinking his brother drank too much.  At least he could keep an eye on him that way.

They made small talk on the way, Joel’s responses little more that grumbles and grunts. Something needed to give, but what? Tommy didn’t know, but he sent up silent prayers for a miracle to save his brother.

Once they were seated at one end of the bar, Tommy ordered a round. “Joel, brother, what is going on, really? Is it just the thing with Ellie or something more?”

Two sets of deep brown eyes stared at each other for long moments, each waiting for the other to flinch or look away. Joel gave in first, clearing his throat, unable to meet his brother’s eyes as he spoke. “It’s… everythin’, Tommy. It feels like somethin’ inside me is broken, somethin’ that was just starting to repair itself until this thing with Ellie shattered it again.”

Tommy’s heart clenched. Life had done Joel dirty, even before the outbreak, and it seemed like it finally broke him beyond repair. “I know it ain’t been easy, not with… well, everything. Do you… would you ever consider talking to someone about it all? Like a professional, I mean. I know we got someone here who used to be a counselor.”

Brows pinched together, Joel’s stormy eyes glared at the bar top, avoiding Tommy’s searching gaze. “Fuck, no! I don’t want a stranger diggin’ into my psyche or whatever the hell they do, just so they can tell me I have daddy issues or some such shit. And talkin’ ‘bout it don’t help none, either. I’m talking to you and it ain’t doing shit but pissin’ me the hell off!”

“Damn, alright! Don’t gotta get all caveman on me.” Tommy held his hands up with a blatant roll of his eyes. His brother never did like the touchy feely shit and he should have known better than to bring it up. “Maybe you just need a sweet lil’ thing to take your mind off shit.”

That got Joel to laugh for the first time in a long while. “Oh yeah? You think getting my dick wet will solve everythin’?”

Tommy smirked. “Well, not everything. You’ll still be you afterwards. I’d pity whatever poor girl got stuck with you, honestly. But it couldn’t hurt none, right?” It was good to see his brother grin, nose and corners of eyes crinkling with the broadness of it, and they fell into a comfortable silence while people watching. Sudden movement at the entrance caught Tommy’s attention and Joel followed his eyeline.

You walked in with Maria, the pair of you had your heads tilted toward each other giggling madly about something. While Tommy only had eyes for Maria, Joel drank in the sight of you. New to Jackson, you arrived with a small group a few weeks ago and, while you were still settling in, you were eager to meet people and get involved in helping around town. Maria took an instant liking to you, and you spent a lot of time with her, quickly becoming part of the Miller group.

Catching a glimpse of his brother staring at you, Tommy slapped Joel’s back. “Speaking of a sweet lil’ thing. Maybe this is your chance, brother.” Joel scoffed in return. Girls like you don’t go for guys like him, at least not the guy he was now. It was the law of nature or some shit.

“Hey boys,” Maria greeted, taking a seat next to Tommy. With a knowing glint in her eye and an exaggerated wink, she gestured for you to sit next to Joel. You never should have mentioned to her how handsome you found Joel. She was becoming a menace with her not-so-subtle methods of teasing and pushing the two of you closer at every opportunity.

“Hi Joel.” You slipped onto the stool next to him, one hand placed on his shoulder for balance as you did so.

“Hey darlin’. Whatcha drinking?” he grunted, fighting to ignore the burning heat of your touch. When was the last time a woman touched him? It must have been Tess and that was… a long time ago.

“I’ll take a red wine. Cabernet or pinot noir, whichever kind is available, please.”

After relaying your request to the bartender, and with his brother’s attention focused solely on Maria, Joel turned his attention back to you. He was a miserable sod, but you were a beautiful woman – he’d be a fool to ignore the attention you paid him. “How are you settlin’ in?”

“Pretty good. This is some community.” You launched into a few stories about mishaps and people you’ve met so far, drawing a few chuckles from Joel with your interpretation of some of the townsfolk. You had a way about you that drew him out of shell of melancholy.

One drink quickly became two, then three, and before either of you knew it, Maria and Tommy left and the two of you were alone at the bar. The wine buzz left you feeling bold and brave, making a move you would not have normally.

“Do you want to go back to my place for a nightcap?”

“Darlin’,” Joel sighed, brows pinched, at once drifting back under the dark cloud of hopelessness and unable to meet your heated gaze. “You don’t want to waste your time on me. I’m a lost cause.”

“Why don’t you let me decide what and who I waste my time on,” you challenged.

Joel’s eyebrows lifted in surprise at your tenacity. You were a beautiful young woman and for some unfathomable reason you were interested in him. He had absolutely nothing to offer someone like you, except for a one-night stand, at best. He was good at those – they didn’t require deep connections or feelings, two things he was avoiding like the plague. Maybe Tommy was on to something though – sex would take his mind off his miserable existence for a bit.

“Okay then. Let’s get outta here,” he replied, downing the last of the amber liquid in his glass, and leading you out of the bar with a large, warm hand at your lower back.

The journey to your house was cold and quiet and you began to wonder if you’d made a huge error in judgement. You weren’t a one-night stand kind of girl, preferring the comfort and security of relationships instead, but something told you that this would be the only way you’d get to have Joel. There was a darkness about him, a deep residing mass of regret and remorse, and you felt a burning need to fix him, to be his sunshine, even if only for a little bit.

Your hands fumbled with the latch when you finally reached your house. The warmth of Joel’s large hands suddenly overwhelmed your senses as he helped you, and you were flinging yourself at him before the door even closed behind you.

His kisses were anything but tender, all harsh presses of his lips, teeth, and tongue, like he was a man starved. There would be marks left on your tender skin come morning, but you didn’t mind, giving him the same treatment as you sucked at his neck, soothing your tongue over the spots you just sunk your teeth into.

“I have a bottle of wine. Do you want some?” you breathed against his lips, taking a moment to slow the momentum before the pair of you spontaneously combusted.

A smirk crossed Joel’s lips as an idea struck him. “Sure, why not.” He watched you open the bottle and pour two glasses before returning to him. Accepting one of the stemless glasses, he clinked it against yours before taking a sip. The momentum picked right back up after that first taste of the dark liquid.

Fingers frantically working to undo the buttons on Joel’s flannel with one hand, you walked backwards up the stairs to your bedroom, pulling him along with you without a spare thought about the wine spilled on the wood flooring as you went. Patience wearing thin, he tore your clothes from your body with his free hand, leaving you naked and yearning as you continued working on his shirt. Placing his glass of wine on the nightstand, his hands were everywhere, he could not get enough of your smooth, soft skin.

You were the antithesis of him, bright and bubbly where he was dark and brooding, soft where he was hard, adaptable and happy where he was rigid and sad. You were ripe like fresh fruit ready for plucking. You were everything he wish he could still be. Perhaps he could get just a brief taste of happiness being with you, inside you.

Once his jeans and boots were shed, Joel tossed you onto the bed, watching with hungry eyes as your tits bounced with the movement. He was on you in a flash, hands and mouth exploring every inch of your body. Sharp teeth scraped against your puckered nipples, making them impossibly harder, and the sensation shot a bolt of pleasure right down to your core, where the weight of his hardened cock rested, twitching for attention.

Nails scraped down his chest and belly until you reached his cock, slipping your slender hand around the heft of him. He was huge – both long and thick, a combination you’d not experienced before, and your mouth watered with the desire to taste him. If you only had one night together, you wanted to make it a memorable experience.

It took great effort to get Joel to detach his lips from your breasts, the whine that emanated from him as you did so had you downright aching for him.

“What are you doin’, darlin’?” his deep voice rumbled, dark eyes rolling back in his head when you moved down his body and slipped your plush lips around the head of his cock. “Oh, fuck!”

After spending so long living in hell, your mouth felt like heaven as you licked and sucked on his length.

“Wait, doll, I wanna try somethin’.”

Sitting up against the aged headboard, Joel grasped the wine glass and brought it down to rest on his belly. Two thick fingers dipped into the dark red liquid and swirled, coating every bit of surface area from fingertip to second knuckle before he brought his drenched fingers down towards you. His hand hovered over his cock and you both watched as droplets of translucent ruby red liquid dripped onto his hardened flesh.

Your mouth watered as you watched him repeat the process, eager to taste the heady mix of the bitter tang of wine and his salty pre-cum. Ravenous, you slurped at the liquid trails running down the length of his cock before lapping at the bulbous head, leaving no hint of wine behind as you wrapped your lips around him.

Joel was a panting mess when you took him as far as you could, his weeping head hitting the back of your throat. The glass of wine was forgotten, slipping from his hand to stain the hardwood floor next to the bed. That was a tomorrow problem as you focused on devouring his beautiful cock. He was close to the edge within minutes, the sensations too much, and he pushed you off him none too gently, flipping you onto your back like you weighed nothing.

“My turn, darlin’,” Joel murmured, nestling his face between your legs. He’d been told that his current lifestyle was bad for his health, that all the drinking and smoking was hopeless. They weren’t wrong, but it felt like that was all he needed, the only thing that set him free from his sorrows. Now that he’d tasted you, he knew that was utter bullshit. You could so easily set him free if he got to have you, taste you every day. You were enough to change a man like him.

“Joel,” you mewled his name between long moans as his tongue teased at your clit, thick fingers exploring your folds before dipping inside you. He drew an orgasm from you effortlessly and you clawed at his back as the blinding flash of pleasure washed over you. “I need you inside me. Now. Please.”

He could refuse you nothing, shifting to hover over you. “Save me from myself,” he murmured against your lips as he sheathed himself inside your tight warmth. “You’re the only one who can.”

“Always,” you replied breathlessly, rocking your hips against his. Your mouths met in a kiss full of promise.

[steddiealltheway]

It happens after a visit at the Mayfield trailer. Eddie comes up with a wonderful plan to prank Steve: He’ll announce that he’s going back to his trailer but actually sneak and hide in the back seat of Steve’s BMW - he had stolen the keys earlier and secretly unlocked it.

So, when he sees Steve starting to wrap things up so the kids can spend time together, Eddie makes the announcement that he’s leaving, and gives Max a squeeze on the shoulder on the way out. He’s giddy with excitement as he climbs into the backseat and hunches down. He holds his breath after he hears Steve yell at everyone to take care from the front of the trailer.

The car door opens and closes, and Eddie waits a moment before he jumps out, letting Steve really settle into the comfort of his car. Instead, Steve mumbles under his breath, “Okay, Harrington, hold it together. Kids are watching.”

Eddie hears him start the car and feels him reversing back then taking off quickly. There’s a click and then a cassette starts playing which Steve starts singing along to. It would be endearing if his voice wasn’t so tight, sounding like he’s struggling to hold back tears.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do as he hears the first song end. Steve says to himself, “Use her as the fucking bait… and you just let it happen!” There’s a loud noise that Eddie thinks is the smack of a hand on the steering wheel.

He curls further into himself as the next song plays. It’s one of those playlist that he knows he would make fun of Steve for if he wasn’t practically choking out the lyrics. After a loud sob, there’s a deep breath and then a stern, “Steve Harrington doesn’t fucking cry. Steve Harrington doesn’t fucking-” it’s broken off with another sob.

Then the car is suddenly coming to a stop, and the car is filled with whatever pop song Steve has playing and the sounds of Steve Harrington gasping for breath as he lectures himself about not crying. It’s fucking devastating, but Eddie knows Steve would never forgive him if he revealed himself now.

“She might never fucking walk again you fucking idiot,” Steve says then there’s another loud smack. “You were supposed to take care of them,” Steve says voice cracking awfully. Eddie hand flies up to his mouth as he chokes back a sob. He doesn’t know when he started crying.

“I need air,” Steve announces suddenly with a gasp and then the car door is opening and slamming shut. Eddie takes a moment to debate his choices. He can attempt to hurry away although he didn’t pay any attention to where Steve was driving. Or he can keep hiding in the car and risk Steve finding him during the rest of his breakdown.

Eddie tries the door handle and slowly climbs out the back. He turns to find Steve standing off the side of some back road, hands on his hips, and face staring up at the sky. One hand rises up to pinch at his nose as tears fall down his red face. He looks like he’s trying as hard as he can to not let this take over him, and Eddie can hear him still lecturing himself.

Eddie can’t stand the sight. And he can’t leave. Maybe Steve will hate him forever for intruding, but Eddie can’t let him go through this alone. He lets the back door of the car shut firmly. Steve whips his head to the side, eyes wide in shock but red rimmed and filled with tears.

He reaches up and angrily wipes away the tears. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Steve asks. Eddie just slowly approaches him as if he were a wild animal. “Were you fucking hiding in my car?!” Steve yells.

Eddie’s just glad that his anger is directed at someone other than himself. “Fucking answer me, Munson!” Steve yells again, tears still streaming down his face which he wipes at again. Eddie doesn’t answer but slowly gets closer.

“Get the fuck away from me freak.” Eddie lets the insult roll off him as best as he can as he finally gets into Steve’s space. “Go away,” Steve whispers desperately. His words betray him as Steve doesn’t attempt to move back.

Eddie lifts his arms up and pulls Steve into a hug. He tenses up immediately. “It’s okay. I’ve got you,” Eddie says, and Steve finally gives in. He sobs into his neck, nearly close to hyperventilating as Eddie runs a hand through his hair. “I’ve got you, okay? I’ve got you,” Eddie repeats again and again as Steve loudly sobs.

“It-it’s my fault,” Steve says finally catching his breath, voice all twisted up in agony that makes Eddie choke out a sob.

“It’s not your fault, Steve,” Eddie says, trying to hold back his own tears.

“I could’ve stopped it. I should’ve stopped it,” Steve says weakly pounding his fist on Eddie’s chest.

Eddie’s hands comes up to intertwine his fingers in Steve’s, making him release the fist. “We all could’ve stopped it. We’re all at fault here. The weight of the world and the fate of these kids doesn’t need to fall on you. You can’t always save everyone, but you did.” Eddie feels Steve’s grip tighten on him as he continues, “She could’ve died, but she didn’t. She might be in that wheelchair for a long time, but she’s alive. Hell, she’s even back more of an attitude when I didn’t think it was possible.” Steve lightly laughs at the remark which makes Eddie’s hold on him tighten even further.

A few moments later, Steve’s breath begins to even out enough that Eddie decides he can loosen his grip on him. He takes the moment to pull Steve slightly away so he can cup his face in his hands. His eyes are swollen and there are still tears streaming down his red face. His bottom lip is quivering no matter how hard he’s trying to press his lips together. And there’s definitely snot and tears getting mixed under his nose. It’s an ugly cry, but Eddie thinks Steve looks beautiful.

“You saved me, too,” Eddie reminds Steve. “You saved us all.”

Steve’s watery eyes search Eddie’s before he’s slowly nodding, finally accepting that maybe he isn’t entirely at fault for everything that’s happened, and maybe he even caused some good.

Eddie kisses him on the forehead and pulls him back into a hug. “You can cry, too, you know. As much as you need to because I’ve got you. I’ll be here forever if you need me to be,” Eddie says softly.

“Promise?” Steve says quietly.

“Promise,” Eddie says, tugging Steve closer on the side of the road, feeling the dampness on his shirt grow as Steve finally lets go.

[kenzsturniolo1]

Prom night M.S

Summary: your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you at prom so Matt helps you out.

tw; Smut, Angst, semi-public sex, cheating, oral sex, swearing, underage sex.

Today was prom. you were terrified because this was your first prom since you were sick for your junior prom

You and a bunch of your other girl friends were getting ready and hyping each other up for prom. 

You’re doing your makeup as your best friend Alahna is straightening your hair and curling the ends. 

You put on some midnight blue eyeshadow that matches  perfectly with your dress that you haven’t put on yet. 

“Alahna can you do my eyeliner for me?” You say  which is out of your comfort zone “of course you're getting full glam I see” she laughs “I guess” you say shyly and giggle too “I’m jealous of chase” chase is your boyfriend of 2 years. Your relationship has always been rocky and especially right now but you’d do anything for him.

Alahna does your eyeliner and touches of your makeup 

“Thanks Lana” you say with a smile “of course,now go get your dress on, pretty girl” she pushes you away mirroring the smile on your face. 

You go into the bathroom at your friend choles house and get changed. 

After you get changed you hear a knock at the door “y/n/n can I come in” Alahna says “yeah” you say unlocking the door and letting her in. 

“Y/n, baby you look amazing” she says, making you blush. You look at yourself in the mirror “do you think chase will like it?” you say more nervous now “if he doesn’t he’s crazy,you look jaw dropping” Alahna says putting an arm on your shoulder “yeah sorry” “don’t be baby”

You Walk into the school gym that looks unrecognizable. There's lights and music and photo shoot backdrops with silly props.

You walk with alahna and look for chase and some other friends.

You see Chase at a table with the triplets and this girl named Payton who is known for being the school's snooty rich whore. You look at alahna confused when you see payton “what's she doing there with them” you whisper to alahna as you continue to walk towards them “i don't know?” you guys get to the table. “You look gorgeous” chris says getting up and kissing alahnas hand. Alahna giggles and says “thank you chris. You look alright in your lyrical lemonade suit” she says as she sits down at the table with chris.

You get a little jealous at alahna and chris because your boyfriend hasn't even said anything to you not even really acknowledging you. 

You sit down between chase and Matt crossing  your arms and slouching in your seat. Matt sees this, it's almost like Matt knew exactly what you were thinking “i think you look beautiful,y/n” he says looking down at you and you smile “matthew watch what you say to my girlfriend.” chase says sternly finally looking at you “sorry man” Matt says. Chase rolls his eyes and puts his attention back on payton. “At least Matt can pay attention to me” you mumble “what did you say '' chase says looking down at you “you haven't said anything to me at all! You knew how nervous I was for prom and you dont even care.” you say “im sorry baby, wanna go take some pictures or dance?” chase askes, and you nod.

You and Chase get up and go to the dance floor but it's just really awkward. You break the silence finally “I'm gonna go get like a  pepsi or something, i'll be right back” you say “okay, take your time” chase says looking at his phone smiling and texting someone. You ignore him and get up walking towards the cafeteria.

Once you get to the lunchroom you feel someone looking at you. You turn around and see matt. “Oh hey matt” you walk towards him “hey y/n, i wanted to make sure you are okay” matt says looking at your body and curves “im fine, thanks though matt. I appreciate it” you say to him and he just nods “who’d you go to prom with?” you ask him “oh umm i was gonna go with nicole but you know…..we broke up last week” matt says looking down “oh im sorry, i didn't know” you say walking closer to him “no your fine” “i mean she was also kinda a bitch” you say matt laughs a little at that “can i ask why you guys broke up?” you say looking up into his icy blue eyes “oh uh its kinda embarrassing” matt says looking down “do you think ill judge you” you say “no uhhh well she kinda broke up with me because…..she wasn't satisfied in bed” matt say as his face turns red “oh damn im sorry” you say “if i'm being honest you gave off big dick vibes” you say trying to comfort himc”i mean i wouldn't say i have a small dick but it's definitely not 12 inches or some shit” we and him both laugh

“Well shall we head back” you say and Matt laughs “we shall” you and Matt head back to the gym.

Once you walk into the gym your heart completely stops and you see chase and payton kissing.

You freeze for a second and then you run to the exit in the gym and you bash through the door. “y/nnn!” you here matt say running after you.

You lean against the brick wall of your school seconds later you hear the door open and see its matt “you alright?” you sniffle “no im not” you say crying. Matt pulls you tightly into a hug “i swear ill make him pay” matt says through clenched cheeks. 

You just cry into matt. He rubs your back and kisses the top of your head. He sighs “he doesn't deserve you”

You cry into his chest “what did i do to deserve this”

Matt wipes away your tears. “You did nothing wrong. You were the perfect girlfriend, he is blind and a douchebag. You dont have to tell me but how long have you guys been together?” matt says holding your chin “2 years next month” you say looking up at him heart broken

 “that must be hard, you were together for so long and this happens for the face of everyone at your prom… do you want me to tell him he's a dick, or do you want me to kick him in the balls in front of everyone?” matt says “nothing,i dont wanna make things worse.” you say quietly “how would that make things worse? I'm not gonna be gentle to him. I'm gonna make him regret ever meeting you. You are so loving and amazing and he just threw that away.”

Matt finally convinces you. “Could you maybe do that and then maybe… we could kiss just to get him back more?” you say nervously. He gives you a confused look then nods “that sounds good. Let's go back in there and i'll make him regert everything alright, darling?” you nod and wipe away the rest of your tears “uhh do i have mascara on my face?” matt wipes away the mascara under your eyes with his thumb “yeah you do, but you still look great.” your face fills with blush “did you get it all?” you say and he nods

Matt grabs your hand “lets go, and remember, only i get to kiss you, not him, not anyone else. You got that” you blush “mhm” “good girl”

Matt and you walk back into the party, matt looks around for your boyfriend. “There he is, i'm gonna tear him apart.” you stay in the corner and matt walks over and stares him in the eyes. “Youre a complete scumbag you know that? You do not deserve to be dating anyone. How dare you do such a thing to a wonderful girl like y/n? And in front of everyone” you can see matts angry you cant hear chases words but he looks scared almost.

Matt looks at your boyfriend with seething loathing eyes. “You are the biggest, most gigantic dick head on earth! You dont desever any love!” he looks at your boyfriend menacingly “if you ever hurt her again i will beat the living shit out of you, you pussy”

After he says this you see Matt walking towards me. Matt grins proudly, he walks up to you and wraps his arms waist as he pulls you close to his chest, glaring at his at your boyfriend.

You grab Matt's face and kiss him deeply and passionately.

Matt is slightly surprised but he kisses you back deeply and passionately. You sense that he is still a bit shaken by the argument with your boyfriend because he's a bit rough when kissing you. He pulls you close and keeps kissing you.

You slowly slip your tongue in his tongue. He kisses you deeply and puts his hand on your neck as he kisses you with passion and intensity.

You start to swirl your tongue with his. Matt breaks the kiss for air and looks at you with his lips curled as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly. His heart is beauting and he feels his cock harder as he puts his lips back against yours and kisses you deeply and passionately again, his hands massage your back as he kisses you, holding you tightly against him feeling his hard on.

You run your fingers through his hair, never breaking the kiss.

You break the kiss for more air and sigh happily as Matt looks at you with joy and adoration.

“Darling, i love you…” he whispers 

Your eyes widen in surprise “i love you too”

Matt smiles excitdeally and picks you up, putting his hands under your legs and he lifts you up so he can kiss you again. He wraps his arms around you, and kisses your neck, while his hand travels to your hips.

“Lets go to the bathroom and continue this” you say more arousaled 

Matt doesnt respond, he just carries you to the bathroom.

You guys get to the girls restroom and kick the door open.

You lock the whole girls bathrooms.

The two of you are inside, the bathroom is empty. He puts you down on the sink counter and wraps his arms around your waist. He kisses you deeply while rubbing your back and he pulls you close to him.

The two of you are kissing passionately and roughly, matt is wrapping his arms around your wasit and holding your hips. He grips your hips and pulls you closer to him, not breaking the kiss. 

He pulls back for more air and looks at you, you both are out of breath.

You feel each other sweating, it is hot and you can feel the chemistry between you both. He kisses your forehead and continues to hold you close, his hands tracing your body and touching your neck and back, rubbing against your skin.

You pull him by his tie back into the kiss. Matt laughs a little and kisses you back passionately after you pull him by his tie to kiss.

You start to unbuckle his belt.

Matt relieves what youre doing and breaks the kiss with a chuckle. He looks in your eyes.

“So egar”

“Matt i need you know” you whine

He stares at you intensely and you can see the lust in his eyes.

You take off his belts and set it on the sink counter out of the way.

Matt grins, he can barely contain himself as he pulls you against him and kisses you deeply again. You can feel his hand trace your curves.

Matt breaks the kiss and starts to take off your dress.

He grabs the zipper on your dress and he pulls it down, as he smirks.

He pulls the dress over your head and looks at your body. “Youre so fucking beautiful”

You blush and your supprissed as matt quickly and roughly starts sucking oon one of your boobs and squeezing harshly the other one.

“Mmm matt” you moan out and then matt lightly bites the bud of your nipple.

He puts his hand in your panties rubbing through your folds “so wet already”

“Mmm matt more” you whine.

Before you even know it, Matt is on his knees right in front of your pussy.

He blows air on it making you shiver and moan at the same time.

He puts your legs up on the counter so they’re spred apart and very open.

He licks a long strip across your pussy. 

“Mmm aohh matt” 

He pulls your lips aparts and starts going crazy absolualy wild. He's eatting you out like its the last time he could.

He quickly licked and sucking your clit and licking all your pre cum. “Mm matt yes baby” you groan out 

He continues eating you out and starts to slowly put 2 of his fingers in your entrance.

“Uahh matt”

He starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you roughly and continues sucking your clit, slappping his tongue against it.

“Oh matt fuck, im gonna cum”  “no yet baby” matt says pulling away

“I need to fuck you first” matt says standing up

“Mmm please do” you go to your phone and pop off your phone case revealing a condom

Matt takes it from you “youre such a slut carring a condom on you” matt says 

“Im your slut” you say starting to unzipper his zipper “you got that right” matt says looking at your hands

You start to take off his pants with his boxers, Matt helps you.

His cock springs up and hits his stomach. 

You look up at him with a mix of lust and submission. 

“You ready.” Matt askes gripping your hip with one hand and holding his cock near your entrance 

You nod and moan as he pushes his 6.5 dick in you.

“Matt!” you scream and he slowly thrust in you letting you get used to it.

“Its okay, baby.” he holds your back and his thrusts start to get faster

“F-faster.” you say between moans.

“Fuck!” Matt goes faster, and he's balls deep in you.

You scratch his back and moan and bite his shoulder causing the buliding knot in your stomach to get tighter and tighter.

“I'm gonna come.” you stutter out and you feel his dick twitch.

“Come for me.” Matt groans and goes at an ungodly pace.

Your vision slightly blurry and you come undone.

Matts breaths are choopy and heavy and you hugs you pulling out.

You giggle and hold him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah i just…. Really like you.” matt says into your neck

You giggle again and play with his hair.

A/N HIIIII!!! I'm aware this isn't the best isn't the best but I'm proud of it!!!! i think I may upload some of my old fics from AO3 on here if you want!!! I want to write more cause I just got on break from college and I haven't had time to write in the school year!!! send request if you want!!! XOXO.

[neomujinjja]

Our love is magnetic

Pairing: Myung Jaehyun x reader

Length: 487 words Genre: fluff, soulmate au, first meeting

Warnings: first meeting, airplane setting, live at first sight type shit, 3rd person pov, song lyrics in fic, mentions of lots of eye contact, strangers holding hands, onedoor reference (as wonder)

Synopsis: At the last minute, your friend drops out of y'all's two week trip. Which means you'll be spending your vacation in Europe with a stranger. You're dreading how awkward the next 14 days are going to be. But this trip with a cousin of a friend might surprise both of you.

Note: another one i was sitting on for a good minute (like since this album drop; long enough for them (both groups funnily enough 😂) to have a comeback 😬). just writersblock and no time at its finest, but soulmate myungjae is officially done. really hope fellow onedoors love it like i do

── ⋆⋅ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ ⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅ ಇ⋅⋆ ──

I see it in your eyes - electric

'25 B, 25 B, 25 B' Y/N repeated in their head, looking for the number as they went down the aisle. While their seat was most likely at the back of the plane, it was a force of habit. Y/N grinned as the plaque displayed that very number before then, settling into their seat. Luckily, Wonder's cousin was already in his seat so Y/N wouldn't have to stand up again until after takeoff. They turned to the distracted male, taking in his side profile before speaking. "You must Jaehyun; I'm Y/N, Wonder's friend."

Jaehyun abruptly turned his head at the sentence; the two of them made eye contact as he did. Y/N's breath hitched as the feeling of electricity passed through their body. "Yeah, nice to meet you," Jaehyun said, his words coming out airy like his breath had been caught.

Pulse is racing, love runnin through our veins

Y/N's heart was beating at top speed, it would be a reason for concern if the flight staff could hear it. But that wasn't any of their concern, the situation had both parties on a high. Neither of them had felt such emotions for a stranger like this before, but that was to be expected with their soulmate connection. The same as how they couldn't bear breaking their established eye contact. Beeping of the intercom broke the tension, the duo finally looking away from each other as a flight attendant began talking about the safety procedures. Y/N was unable to fully pay attention, instead sneaking glances over at the man next to them. They couldn't resist the magnetic pull they were experiencing with Jaehyun.

Pushin me like Superconductor, I'm pullin you like Superconductor now

Their pinkies converged, hooking onto one another, over the shared console. The pull of their new connection was powerful, despite the soulmates avoiding direct eye contact now. But that didn't stop them from stealing glances at one another; new emotions and curiosity also played a hand. Y/N froze, cheeks heating up, as Jaehyun caught them peeking. Jaehyun smiled unabashed, intertwining Y/N's hand with his while staring into their eyes. They wondered if he'd be the same in a long-term relationship; delicate, affectionate, and confident like he acted now.

"Jae?.." Y/N watched as said male gained a blush on his face at the nickname. The casualness of it resulting in Jaehyun being left speechless. He opted for a hum in response and a head tilt that reminded Y/N of a puppy. "How do we do this?" Y/N looked down to where their hands laid on the console together.

His thumb lightly rubbed the back of their hand as Jaehyun reinforced eye contact. "Slowly," he said with a reassuring smile. Y/N gently squeezed his hand as they nodded and smiled back in agreement.

"I'd like that."

[heesuits]

cry baby - lee heeseung ♡

paring: co-worker!heeseung x reader

genre: soft

! the song lyrics are mentioned at some point.

wc: 3k+

.

Closed your notebook and stretched your spine... Just finished studying for today, your fingers feel stiff from all the writing, maybe they could even get cramps later. You've been having some online classes at night from different subjects to complement your degree and just got really immersed in it for a couple hours now. You lay your head back at the chair and look at the side glancing at your phone, completely forget about its existence, stretch out your hand to grab it... 10:02 p.m, some notifications and three unread messages:

[8:47 p.m.] heesu: hey wyd :)

[9:12 p.m.] heesu: are you there?

[9:46 p.m.] heesu: there's just something I wanna talk to you about, don't want to bother okay? nothing urgent don't worry, text me back when you can...

Heeseung is a friend from work, you've been working at the same shift for about 3 months now and he kind of makes your days easier with his periodic jokes. Even though he is a shy person overall, you found it funny how it looks like people are always looking for him, trying to find a thing to talk about and make the hours go faster, but you don't judge them, he's definitely a good listener and the big shiny eyes make it easier to know that he's truly paying attention to the issue. But when it comes to the introvert chart you're a full #1 and he's around a #2, cause he often comes to you with some random vent about his life, his meals, his gaming, his love affairs, and you usually just listen carefully and show interest in his matters, rarely opening up about anything, but you can swear he's too good with conversations and still get some facts from you sometimes...

He even caught you crying from stress once, you were hiding at the staircase and he just sat by your side and stayed there for a while not really saying anything but take your time, once you looked done from the crying session you two just got up and went back to work and later that day he brought some chocolate, giving it to you like some sort of secret weapon, claiming that it would help. It surely did. And you've never talked about it but you could feel like since then you've definitely become friends somehow, the atmosphere between the two of you have changed, he always notices when you are having a bad day and keeps looking for alternative ways to help you go through it, and you know when he's just tired of being the listener and needs to open up.

You didn't know what the messages could be about, it's monday, you were working together hours ago and had no other choice than to meet again tomorrow... "I was kind of busy when you texted earlier, here now, what's the issue?" You replied, locked the phone and put it in your pocket. Headed to the kitchen to fill in the water bottle, you were feeling kinda hungry so just got an apple to eat when you felt the phone vibrate, someone is calling, you read the name on the screen: heesu... that fast? Can't help but wonder if there was something happening and just picked up...

"Heeseung? Hello?" he never called before, ever...

"Hi... First of all you're a really bad emergency contact..." he didn't have a worrying tone at least, just the usual.

"And what's the emergency you're needing to contact me about?"

"None actually... did you still not unpacked your bag after work yet?"

"Umm, no... nothing to get off of it today, why?" just too curious at that point.

"I left something there, was wondering why you still didn't say anything about it... go check and then you talk to me okay?"

"I'm not working from home don't even try."

"It's not about that I swear, it's a surprise, cmon go see it."

"Okay mystery man, I'll follow your instructions."

"Bye."

As soon as he hangs up you almost run upstairs to check on the bag, leaving the water bottle and forgetting about the apple... What could it be? A present? A gift card to get some coffee? A prank? Heeseung often handles you pieces of paper during the shift, some just written [I'm bored x.x] sometimes complimenting your different hairstyles [nice buns :D], [cool bangs u.u], [fluffy ponytail ;D], thought it could be one of those and he just made it dramatic to be fun. You found it, now almost sure about the random piece of paper theory: An envelope, locked with an emoji sticker that I gave him some weeks ago cause you recorded yourself unboxing some stationary in your close friends and he said that he liked it. You sat on bed and opened it... Chocolate! And a... handwritten letter? Your face is confused, you tilt your head to the side and go straight into reading:

—

Hello there :D (I've never written a letter)

Is my handwriting readable? Hope so...

Where to start from?... I think I worry a lot... I've got this anxious feeling but it goes away for a minute when I'm with you. When it comes to you I think I talk too much and try too hard, I want to listen more. When we talk throughout the day there's this feeling of "I know I'll fall in love with you, and that's not what I wanna do" I can taste my heart breaking from the thought of you saying that you know it... but those are just my anxious thoughts and at least I should be honest and give you the opportunity to know about my feelings and decide about yours by yourself. Every single new thing I learn about you makes me hope that there's some more time to know much more, to fall some more. I swear I wanted so hard to shake my fears away and open up to you about this in person, but as my voice fails courage I hope my writings at least let you feel my honest intentions... Oh, right, the point of the letter...

Would you give me permission to know more about you, and fall even harder? I promise I won't be your cry baby.

[ ] yes

[ ] no

From: Lee Heeseung

—

You get up and grab a pencil to mark your choice, get your phone to take a photo and send it to him without any text or context...

[ ✗ ] yes

[ ] no

—♡.

[underqualified-human]

Self-Aware Yuu sings La Seine and I:

A/N: So because there are a lot of songs that were requested, I don't think I'll be doing all of them mostly because the Jekyll and Hyde one was because I really liked the song. I’ll also be doing separate parts for the songs that I do.

All of them:

A new challenger approaches

“Who is Seine and where is the bridge?!?!”

Heartslabyul:

Most of them are too focused on Yuu’s singing to pay any close attention to the lyrics. 

Cater is once again filming Yuu, but oddly enough no clips are posted to Magicam

Trey is the most normal, not really reacting much during but complementing them after.

Ace and Deuce are trying to find out who Seine is, for research purposes obviously. 

Riddle is completely mesmerized, then he listens more closely and gets a bit sad. The only Heartslabyul guy to ask Yuu about the Seine

Savanaclaw:

Once again, not really listening to the lyrics

Leona falls asleep halfway through, but enjoyed it nonetheless

Ruggie is honestly just happy to get some time off, hearing Yuu sing is just a bonus in his eyes

Jack is pretty curious about the origin of the song, so it and others become a common conversation topic for the next few weeks 

Octavinelle:

The ones that suggested the singing in the first place

The tweels are now following Yuu around in case they go to meet anyone at a bridge

Floyd may try to sabotage the performance if he gets bored [which he thankfully doesnt]

Azul is torn between wanting to hire the prefect at the lounge full-time and wanting to keep their singing to himself [Erik style]

Scarabia:

Kalim is, once again, not fully paying attention to the lyrics. Honestly, he’s just happy that Yuu looks like they're having fun

Jamil starts paying attention when hypnotism is mentioned and doesn't ever stop paying attention. Another one that actually asks about the lyrics.

Pomefiore:

Rook is finally allowed to duet! [It was only because he knew how to pronounce Seine when reading the lyrics]

Epel is more interested in the instrumentals if he’s being honest, but he still supports Yuu from the sidelines.

Vil actually had a hand in the production of the performance, he couldn't help himself! Definitely talks to Yuu about their singing and ways to improve afterwards [is also oddly nice about it]

Ignihide:

Ortho also talks to Yuu about the song lyrics but only like, a month later.

Idia is too busy recording everything to pay attention in the moment, but he has several questions once he watches the recording back [and trust me he does. A LOT]

Diasomnia:

The entire dorm is of the few that pay attention enough to realize Seine is a place, not a person

Malleus asks about the lyrics, the origins and even where the Seine is located. He’s a little sad when he finds out it doesn't exist there. Also asks if you’ve ever thought of naming a child Seine 🤔

Sebek disregards the fact that it’s mostly about love and just jumps straight to asking if the Seine is a safe location or not.

Lillia is just laser-focused on the wine, he asks about the river too but mostly about wine.

Silver is taking a nap, please do not disturb him.

Tagging: @coffee-or-hot-cocoa [the requester]

[astroboots]

Idk if you've answered this before, but how boa and frankie met? Was it love at first sight?

At First Sight

Content: Your best friend Santiago introduces you to his other best friend: Frankie Morales

Word Count: 2,000

Homesick Masterlist | Homecoming Universe | Astroboot’s Masterlist

It is probably not the most romantic thing to say about the man who would one day be your future husband. But the first time you met Frankie, you’d barely noticed he was in the room. 

Frankie is one of those men that has a quiet energy about him. Not imposing. Not a braggart. He’s perfectly happy to sit, tucked away into a comfortable corner of the room, sipping on a shitty beer, and almost be forgotten about while the others in the room carry the conversation. 

So no, you hadn’t paid much attention to the man with soft curls, and a sleepy smile, when you were screaming your lungs out in the private karaoke booth to the screeching horror of your friends.

In your defense, you're more than a little bit tipsy. Fresh off a six hour exam with wrecked nerves, and Santiago has decided to spend more than his paltry salary with the army should be able to afford on tequila and Aguila that never seems to run out.

Santiago is faring much better than you on your duette rendition of the Celine Dion song you're supposed to be singing together. Because not only can the bastard sing, but he also seems to know the lyrics to the song, instead of whatever you're doing, which is singing the song title over and over again even as the song has moved on. But Santiago saves it, grinning happily as he pulls you in and continues to sing into the creaky microphone.

His sturdy arm, warm and clammy, in the confined small room, hangs over your shoulder. The weight of it is like coming home, and you treasure that contact.

With every chorus, his heat-flushed cheeks inch closer and you try to ignore it, in a room filled with your friends, but you end up leaning into the warmth of him all the same.

When you finally wind down and the song ends, your throat is scratching at the lining. You know that your vocal chords are going to be rendered useless for the rest of that week as you sit back down on the squeaky vinyl sofa with Santiago who is already pouring you another tequila shot and shoving the wedge of lime between your teeth. 

Your roommate, Greta, tries to offer Santiago's friend the mic when a Michael Jackson song comes on, but he immediately shakes his head, shyly pulling the cap over his forehead like an ostrich trying to hide its head in the sand, mumbling a a quiet excuse that he’s a much bigger Prince fan. 

Throughout the evening, the poor man doesn’t sing, and despite the polite smile on his face, you are convinced that he is probably having the worst time of his life. 

Not that Santiago seems to pay any attention. He's having the best time of his life, showing off how much better of a singer he is than the rest of you (the show-off) as he downs one Tequila shot after another like it's goddamned tap water.

Santiago doesn't seem to have any care in the world that he's wrangled this poor man into a post-exam party filled with rowdy strangers drunk off their asses. Which is typical Santiago really.

Shaking your head with a sigh, you tap Santiago on the shoulder, and he leans into you allowing you to cup your hand over his ear so he can hear you over the chaotic wailing in the background.

“Is your friend alright? I don’t know his name—” 

“Who? Catfish?” Santiago shouts in your face.

You grimace at that stupid army moniker. “Not calling him that.” 

From the corner of your eye, you see the said Catfish look over in your direction at his army nickname being called.

You can't really make much sense of the guy. The only thing you know about him is that he is Santiago's army buddy that's staying with him for a few week while they're on leave.

But there's nothing about the man that screams army about him.

He's soft spoken and polite, and despite the muscular build he's positively skinny. Not the brawny, loudmouthed guys you'd often imagined an army guy would be like. But then again it's not like you've seen or been around many of them. Santiago never brings any of his army friends around you or around his family.

It's a separation he clings onto, two different worlds that should never clash, and he's stubbornly steadfast about his refusal to mix the two.

The only exception he's ever made is for this man named Catfish-- and you can't help but wonder what's so special about this man that would have the most stubborn man in the universe go back on his principles.

"You never bring people from the army around, why him?" you ask.

Santiago, doesn't look up from his tequila shot or at you as he downs it before answering. “His family are some rich hot shots, deals with oil or something in New York, doesn’t get along with them. So I told him to come here before we’re deployed again. Better to be among friends right?” 

With a tilt of the head, you can’t help but observe the man across the room, making little effort in hiding your scrutiny. 

White faded t-shirt, a worn hat embossed with the company logo ‘Standard Heat Oil’, and overgrown hair underneath, the color of deep mud, weren’t exactly the markings of a trust fund kid. 

“He doesn’t look it.” 

“That’s a mean thing to say," Santiago says as if he's scolding you, but he's smiling at you as he says it.

He leans back in, even closer to you, until his lips are close to your ear so that you can hear him perfectly clear over the mayhem in the background. "He's my best friend over there. It's only right he gets to meet my best friend over here. Be nice to him."

The first time Frankie meets you, he's nervous.

It feels momentous somehow. Like the sighting of the mythical Chupacabra in the wild. A legendary creature told only in hushed whispers around bonfires, but no one has ever seen.

He knows who you are, seen your name on the military packets you send Santiago. Caught snippets of the letters written in your neat handwriting. On the very rare odd occasion, he's even managed to convince Santiago to share some of the chocolate and snacks you send him (for a hefty price).

Santiago doesn't talk about you much. But he doesn't have to say it in words for Frankie to understand that you're important to him.

It's clear from the way his smile goes soft when he reads your letters in his bunkbed. The way he'll unfailingly waste his time on leave to argue with local vendors over the price of ugly postcards to send to you. The way he hoards you like a secret, far out of bounds, like he doesn't want his life and world in the army to taint you.

So when Santiago invites him over tonight, knowing you'll be there. Frankie knows it's important.

He feels like a fiance about to meet his potential in law for the first time. The desperation to make a good impression. That nervous fluttering in his stomach where he's not sure if it's because he has food poisoning or if the beer here in Florida is just that bad. Except, of course, Santiago is not his boyfriend and you're definitely not Santiago's mother.

So far he's probably not doing a very good job at making a first impression.

Santiago being Santiago, had foregone introductions, and so Frankie never even really got to say hi or tell you his name. In the midst of the crowd, he'd somehow ended up being seated in the far end of the room. Away from you. Away from Santiago, sitting next to a couple he doesn't know who have been trying to jam their tongues into each other's throat like there'll be oil if they drill down deep enough.

Out of nowhere, he hears Santiago calls for him, but when he looks up, Santiago is in deep conversation with you.

He sees you observing him from across the room. Sharp eyes pinned on his form like you're trying to figure out what his deal is. The kind of look a shopkeeper of a bodega around the corner would have on a potential shoplifter.

And shit, that means the two of you are talking about him, doesn't it?

His skin prickles and stings under his t-shirt, and he grips hard around the neck of the beer bottle, trying to force himself to take another sip to look busy.

"Oi Fish!" Santiago shouts from the other end of the room, and this time Frankie's sure of it, Santiago is actually talking to him and not just about him.

Frankie looks up to see Santiago gesture at the door, signalling it's time to leave as he stands up and grabs your jacket. Frankie gets up in a haste with a murmured bye on his way out, but he doesn't think it makes much of a difference, the couple next to him is still busy playing whack-a-mole into each other's throats.

He joins the two of you in the cramped hallway. It's dark and smells musty of beer and sweat.

You're a little bit worse for wear at this point, swaying on your step and you're only three steps in when your shoe catches on the lump of the carpet and jolt forward seconds from landing on your face.

His reflexes react before his mind does. Arm flying out to catch you by the waist. Even through the cotton of your shirt, your skin feels warm against his palm.

You're looking up at him with wide eyes, face inches from his. Sharp and piercing, they're intimidating somehow, like if he looks long enough into them you'll find out everything there is about him and yet he can't look away.

"Oh, thanks," you say.

You're still staring up at him, and shit, he's been standing still all this time, not moving... still holding onto you hasn't he?

"You can let go Fish, I got her," Santiago says next to you. Hand already placed on the small of your back and Frankie can feel his arm brush up against him.

The small touch from Santiago is all it takes to send a shock through his spine, and his hand flinches away like it scalds him.

In that brief second, his eyes catches yours again, your head tips to the side, eyes curious. He follows your gaze, to see you observing his hand, before your eyes flicker towards Santiago's arm looped around your waist.

Maybe he's just paranoid. Maybe it's all the nervous energy in him. But something in your eyes seems to change. Recognition, and Frankie feels a cold grip around his spine, like he's burning in a firepit and freezing to death on a snow covered mountain all at once.

"Everything okay, Fish?" Santiago asks.

All Frankie can do is nod dumbly, as he forces himself to take a step forward to keep up with you two. "Where we going?"

"Grabbing food. There's an amazing Cubano place nearby." Santiago answers as he pushes open the door to the outside. "They also serve Yuca fries that this one is obsessed with", he continues as he nods towards you. "You love that stuff too right Frank?"

"Yeah, sounds good." Frankie takes in the cooling air of the outside trying to calm down his nerves and the sudden spike of adrenaline that seems to refuse to leave his system.

"See! You two have things in common already, you'll be best friends in no time," Santiago chimes.

You laugh brightly at that.

"Yes," you say, and your head tips towards Frankie, eyes observant. But there's a warm and knowing smile on your face that makes the anxious knot gnawing in his stomach ease somehow. "I think Frankie and I have a lot in common."

Follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

[farity]

Obsession, part 2

Part 1

He'd thought about her all week. During meetings, while driving, even while the Baratheon girl had her mouth around his cock. Now he smiled to himself because as he got ready for the stupid wedding his mother was making them all go to like good little children, he knew she'd be there.

She'd been in the same sorority as the bride, the daughter of his mother's cousin, who was marrying some guy from fucking Pentos of all places.

"I'm not driving."

He looked at his brother in the reflection of the mirror. "I know."

He glared at Aegon, already buzzed, and finished adjusting his tie before heading out to the car. Of course Aegon wouldn't be driving, he would not put his family's safety in his older brother's hands.

"You look very nice, Aem."

"And you look beautiful, Hel," he replied, kissing his sister's cheek. She twirled in her pretty pink dress and he thought for a moment about how close she'd come to dying. He'd added extra security, plainclothes because Helaena didn't like to have the usual guys around her.

The Boltons would pay. His earlier meeting had been with the other houses that supported his family. They had all agreed there needed to be retribution, and were it not for the stupid wedding, he would most likely already be on his way to mete out some punishment.

But for now he had to play nice and look forward to seeing one particular wedding guest.

* * * * *

You could do this.

You could walk into the massive sept and take your seat and watch as your sorority sister married that piece of shit scumbag asshole from the seven hells.

Easy peasy.

Despite your hints that the bridegroom was a nasty piece of crap, Ellie was in love and she was determined to marry him. You just smiled and decided you'd be there for her when she dumped his ass and divorced him.

He wasn't the love of your life or anything, but it still stung when you'd find out he'd been fucking two other girls on the side. Or maybe you were one of the side chicks. Who knew. It just sucked. And after getting tested and burning all the shit he'd kept at your place, you'd moved on.

Until he got Ellie to believe he was a changed man.

People didn't change.

Once an asshole, always an asshole.

You took a program from one of the ushers and took your seat, halfway down the right side of the sept, and opened up Candy Crush on your phone.

"Oh, there she is!"

You saw a blur of pink heading your way and looked up to see Helaena smiling at you.

And her brother was walking alongside her, smirking.

You hugged Helaena back while pretending you did not see Aemond standing three feet behind her.

"Oh my gosh, I've told everyone about how you saved my life!"

Before you could reply, she grabbed both of your hands in hers. "My mom really wants to meet you."

Out of the corner of your eye you could see Aemond smiling and you wanted to kick him. Hard.

"That would be delightful," you said as sincerely as you could, because one simply did not turn down a mafia wife, let alone THE mafia wife.

The septon walked out and much to your relief, everyone started heading to their seats.

"I will see you at the reception," Helaena whispered before heading off.

You nodded, and purposely avoided looking at Aemond as you sat back down. Candy Crush was just too damn interesting for you to pay attention to some mafia son who wasn't used to people saying no to him.

* * * * *

Aemond kept surveying the ballroom, making sure there was no one around who wasn't supposed to be there. But his gaze kept turning to the table across the dance floor, where a certain brunette in a sky blue dress sat chatting with the other guests.

It was time for the newlyweds to have their first dance, and everyone stood as the happy couple took to the floor. The lights dimmed, much to Aemond's irritation, and music faded in. He hadn't heard this song before, and the lyrics were kind of corny, if he was honest, but then he caught sight of her.

She was looking at the groom, her mouth open, her eyes distressed.

Aemond turned to look at the couple dancing, and when he turned to her, she was gone.

He caught a shimmer of movement towards the side door and immediately backed away from the dance floor. He signaled to the head bodyguard to keep an eye on things, and he made his way to the side door.

She was several yards ahead of him, walking fast, her hands on her ears. Aemond realized there were speakers throughout the property, every single one of them pumping out the corny song being played for the first dance, and then she started running.

When she reached the end of the corridor, she looked from one side to the other, and turned left, and he followed. Between his longer legs and the fact that she was wearing heels, he was catching up with her, but when he turned the corner he found her sitting on one of the benches lining the gardens. She was doubled over, her face in her hands, her clutch on the floor.

"Hey."

She looked up, startled.

"What is wrong?"

She looked at him. "Why the hell are you following me?"

"You were with him."

She looked like she was about to cry.

"Was that your song?"

She grabbed her clutch and stood, turning away from him and starting to walk again. There was another speaker high up on the wall, and she groaned. "Is there nowhere I can get away from this fucking song?"

He ran up to her and grabbed her free hand. "My car's right up there."

* * * * *

What the fuck was wrong with people to have the fucking music piped all over the fucking property?

You had to get away, you couldn't listen to this fucking song for another fucking minute.

Looking down at Aemond's hand wrapped around yours, you made your decision. Turning to him, you said, "let's go."

He hadn't been lying, his car was parked away from where the other guests had left their cars, and you figured it was so he could get away quickly if he needed to.

Right now you didn't care, it was bad enough being at this fucking wedding and then the stupid song, it was like it was chasing you, not giving you a second of peace.

You let Aemond open the passenger door, let him walk around and get in, let him drive away, and only then did your breathing start to slow down from the frenzied pace it had been keeping.

"It was your song, wasn't it?" he asked again, "yours and that fuckface's?

You took a deep breath. "Not exactly."

He gave you time to compose yourself, let you gather your thoughts before you started to speak. "He used to write me these stupid poems. They were so cringe, but whatever, you know?"

Aemond looked at you, nodding.

"This was the last one he gave me," you said quietly. "Hey, at least he recycles, right?"

"I am sorry."

"I don't even know why I'm so upset, it's not like he left me for her. He was an asshole."

He said nothing, and you felt like even a bigger fucking idiot. Why were you telling your girl problems to this guy, of all people? Just shut the fuck up and let him drop you off.

"Oh, I should give you my address."

"Sure."

* * * * *

He was already driving that way, but she probably hadn't noticed because she was so upset. She lived in a tiny house that had probably been someone's guest house or in-law unit, and judging from her social media posts, it was just her living there.

He wouldn't feel bad for finding things out. For all he knew, she was part of the whole attempt on Helaena, someone placed there to "save" his sister and become her friend that way.

Except this girl didn't seem to want anything to do with him or Hel. She'd been pleasant enough but he could read people, and after Helaena had spoken to her, she'd scurried off as quickly as she could.

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, "you didn't have dinner."

"Oh shit," she said, pressing a hand to her mouth, "neither did you, I'm sorry."

"Do you want to go somewhere?"

She glanced down at her gown and raised an eyebrow. "Um, no, I'm okay. I have food at home."

It had been ingrained in him since he was a child. He protected the women in the family.

Keep them warm, keep them fed.

"We can do a drive-through."

Her stomach rumbled loudly and he almost laughed. "We're doing a drive-through."

* * * * *

He parked in front of your house after picking up food, and while part of you was appalled at eating a messy burger and fries in your gorgeous rented gown, the smell was just too damn good and you dove in. Because you were not inviting him in.

"Thank you," you said after wiping your mouth. "For the food and the rescue."

And now you owed him. Maybe he'd consider it even with you saving his sister because you really did not want to owe him anything.

"No problem." He took all the wrappers and placed them into the paper bag, placed it in the back. "Do you like your job?"

Here we go. This is where he offers me a job and I'm indebted for fucking life.

"I do, actually."

"You seem much too smart to be doing what you do."

When you glared at him for a) knowing what you did, and b) having a fucking opinion about it, he shrugged.

"It's my job to know who comes into our lives, and I'm very good at my job."

"I am paid very well, and I like the people I work with."

"But you could be doing something so much more interesting."

You took a deep breath, because you'd had this same conversation with your brother, the last time you'd heard from him.

"Look, I get that to you-, I mean, to some people," you amended, not wanting to offend him, "a job like mine, doing peon shit for a random company might seem ridiculous."

"I didn't say that, I just think you could be doing-"

"And maybe it is," you continued, "and you've known me for a grand total of what, forty minutes, and no, I don't spend my life chasing wealth and power like, again, other people, but neither am I walking into coffee shops where men are waiting to shoot at me."

His face was unreadable, but he'd gone very, very still, and you were fucking tired and again, your fucking mouth had to keep going.

"Can your sister date whoever she wants?"

A muscle twitched in his cheek and you knew you'd hit a nerve.

Nodding smugly, you grabbed your clutch and opened your door. "Thanks again for everything. Take care."

You were surprised, because you were shaking so badly, that you managed to get out of the car and thank the fucking gods the key fob worked on the first try so you could get in your house and close the door and be done with everything.

You headed to your bedroom to change your clothes, pulling on one of your old concert shirts and some soft shorts before heading back to the living area.

When the front door opened, you shrieked and jumped back before seeing Aemond at the doorway, his hand on the lock.

"What the hell?"

He stared at you, his face unreadable. "You think you know me," he said softly, "you think you know everything. "

Anger surged in your chest. At his audacity. At the fact that he could so easily get into your home. "You mean like I just knew you were the type of guy who breaks into a woman's home so he can get the last word?" Your hands were fisted at your side and you swore to the new gods and the old if he took another step you were going to rip out his good eye with your own fingers.

He started to take a step toward you, but you pointed at him.

"Get out. I don't care you who are, I don't care who you know. Get. Out."

You turned around, tears beginning to fill your eyes. You went into the bathroom and locked the door, until you heard the front door close.

You waited a few seconds before you went back out. Your heart was beating so hard you thought you were going to pass out.

* * * * *

How the hell had things gone so wrong so quickly?

I'm sorry.

Aemond drove home, angry with himself. He'd wanted to explain, to tell her he wasn't a fucking asshole, and for some gods-awful reason had decided to crack the lock on her door?

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

He'd probably terrified her. Which was his usual intent when he broke into people's houses but he hadn't thought it through, had he?

The next morning he was still seething at his own stupidity, and didn't notice Helaena walking in.

"Are you okay?"

He looked up to find her staring at him, her eyes wide.

"Yeah, why?"

"You disappeared from the wedding, for one, and now you look pissed off."

"I'm fine."

Helaena walked over and kissed his cheek, then grabbed her favorite butterfly mug from the cabinet and poured herself some coffee. "I'm going to call her. The girl from the cafe. Ask her to lunch, ya know?"

Aemond closed his eyes, sighing, "Hel, just leave her alone."

"What do you mean leave her alone, lunch is a nice thing, I want to say thank you properly."

"Just don't."

She was silent and when he looked back up from his coffee, she had tears in her eyes.

"I can't see the Snow boy because he's a bastard, I can't have lunch with the girl who saved my life, because what?"

He shook his head. "Hel, it's just not-"

"Not a good idea, yeah, I know, Aemond. Nothing is ever a good idea for me, I'm going to die alone!"

"Oh sheesh, sorry!" Aegon pressed himself against the wall as Helaena stomped away, crying. "What the fuck did you do to her?"

"Nothing."

Aegon walked behind his brother and smacked Aemond's head on his way to getting his own coffee. "Go clean that up and tell me what the fuck is wrong with Helaena. Today, I mean."

Aemond groaned and grabbed paper towels, smacking Aegon's head as he went to clean up the mess his sister had made. "She wants to be friends with the girl from the cafe."

"Is she hot?"

Aemond shot his brother a dirty look.

"Hey, I might want to be her friend, too."

"She wants nothing to do with us, I just don't want Hel to get her feelings hurt." When he looked up, Aegon was watching him with eyes narrowed. He fucking hated how perceptive Aegon was when he wasn't drunk. He gathered all the shards of the mug and threw them in the trash, wiped off the floor and threw the paper towels in the trash, too. He looked back at Aegon, who was smiling at him. "What's wrong with you?"

"You did something." Aegon laughed out loud. "Oh, I fucking love this. The perfect son fucked something up. You did, didn't you?"

"Shut up."

"Yeah, how would you know the girl wants nothing to do with us?" Aegon raised an eyebrow, "unless you talked to her?"

"Of course I talked to her, I needed to know who she was. She might have been planted into playing the 'savior' to get in with Hel."

Aegon sipped his coffee, stood up to add more milk. "Yeah yeah, but something else happened," he kept watching Aemond, who was almost squirming under his brother's scrutiny. "You didn't fuck her, because you hardly ever fuck anyone, let alone someone who might be a plant, so what? Tell me, or I will find her and ask her myself."

For fuck's sake, Aegon would. And he would make everything even worse.

"She was at the wedding. Left suddenly and I followed her, found her crying because she used to date the groom and the fucker used some song or something he'd given her as the first dance yesterday."

"That's a dick move."

"Anyway, I drove her home and might have let on I thought she was wasting her time at that stupid job she has."

"Aemond, what the fuck." Aegon pinched the bridge of his nose.

Aemond shrugged. "She took offense, said people like us didn't get people like her or some shit, and got out and went inside her house."

A huge smile appeared on Aegon's face. "And you couldn't let it go, could you?" When Aemond said nothing, Aegon barked out a laugh. "You're pathologically unable to let anyone else have the last word."

"Fuck off."

"Yeah yeah, sure, so what, you broke into her house?"

"I'm going to break your fucking face if you don't fuck right off."

"Oh I'm going, I got people to call."

* * * * *

On Monday, you arrived at the office and found two bouquets of flowers waiting for you.

"Someone had a great time at that wedding."

You ignored your boss's voice and hauled the vases to your desk, taking out the little cards from each.

The one that came with the pink roses read I meant to explain myself and ended up scaring you. I truly am sorry. A

The one with the rather gynecological-looking orchids read I can tell you anything you want to know about Aemond, I'm his brother and I know everything. Aegon II Targaryen

There was also a phone number on Aegon's card and you laughed to yourself.

"My dear girl, did we have two foxes in that henhouse?"

You ran into your boss's office and closed the door before she could continue speculating loudly enough for the whole floor to hear.

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My Ko-fi

[icycoldninja]

Can you write a reader who is a jazz singer with the DMC men?

my main inspiration for this headcanon is the ‘Stay High’ cover by Haley Reinhart in the style of 1930’s vintage jazz: https://youtu.be/7hHZnvjCbVw?si=EnbZch_hwT4B-hi1

Maybe it’s the weekend when the gang decided to hang out at a local pub but since it was closed due to maintenance reasons, they decided to hang out at a random jazz bar instead. Turns out, it’s much better than they expected, it’s cozy; the drinks are delicious; the vibes are immaculate but most importantly, the jazz singer is devilishly talented with the way her singing had managed to bewitch everyone’s heart and soul. It doesn’t help when she’s quite a looker as well

Sure!

Sparda boys + V x Jazz Singer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante was just chilling at this new bar that opened up, not expecting much, just some mediocre drinks.

-Then a song began to play and singer had one of the prettiest, sultry voices he'd ever heard.

-Dante was absorbed in your singing, and when the song eventually stopped, he had to admit, he was disappointed.

-He'd heard plenty of talented singers in his lifetime, sure, but you could beat them all any day.

-He found himself returning to that pub several times a week, not for the drinks, as the others at Devil May Cry might assume, but for you.

-When he'll actually get up and talk to you is a mystery, though.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil didn't want to go to that bar, initially, but he let everyone drag him along because secretly he wants to spend time with them.

-He was sitting awkwardly in the corner like the dork he was, until he heard a new song began to play and this lovely voice start singing.

-He was completely lost in your singing, unable to concentrate on his book, forgetting that he was sitting next to other people, and for a moment, looked up from his poetry to see the face of this gorgeous singer.

-He'd never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. Standing up there, illuminated by the dim bar lights, you looked like an angel.

-Vergil really wanted to introduce himself because if he didn't, you might disappear forever, but he was just so internally nervous, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

-With some nudging from Dante the others, he managed to MOTIVATE himself enough to walk up there and talk to you. He ended up chatting with you for about 15 minutes before walking away with an ego boost and your phone number written on paper in his pocket.

□ Nero □

-Nero was supposed to just be going out for a night with his dad and uncle, not to fall in love.

-But here he was, sitting against the counter of a bar, some lame-tasting drink in his hands, condensation dripping down the sides of the glass as he stared languidly at the stage.

-And there you were, in your lovely white dress, belting out lyrics Nero wasn't really paying attention to. Your voice was all he needed to focus on, all he would ever focus on, if given the chance.

-Dante saw him ready to fall asleep thanks to your singing and decided to punch Nero in the shoulder to make sure he didn't fall asleep. Then he urged him to go introduce himself before it was too late.

-Nero is far too introverted to care; he doesn't have to talk to you to enjoy your beautiful singing voice, so he tells Dante to leave him the F alone.

-Nero keeps coming back to that bar. You've see him so many times, he might as well live there. Perhaps you will be the one to introduce yourself first.

● V ●

-V decided it would be a good idea to walk around and stretch his legs for a bit, and ended up venturing into a pub.

-V isn't one to drink, but after noticing the menu offered cheaply priced tea, he decided it wouldn't hurt to sit and relax a while.

-He watched several shows and listened to a few live songs, but none of them could compare to the splendor that was your singing.

-After hearing you for the first time, V's mind was absolutely blown. You sounded like an angel, a true celestial being descended from heaven to bless his ears.

-V relished the moment; the song had served to inspire him to wrote poetry, right there in the bar.

-While he might never go and introduce himself, but he will keep returning to this bar, just to hear you sing.

[privateanxieties]

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 1)

Summary: For what it's worth, you don't know the man who's pointing the gun at your face. It's strange how one goes from bakery owner getting robbed to wanted fugitive. Oh, and then there's the target you put on your own back by associating with one Frank Castle. Surprisingly, you two have a lot in common.

Words: 4.1K

Series Masterlist | NEXT CHAPTER

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For what it's worth, you don't know the man who’s pointing the gun at your face. It is difficult, in these circumstances, to convince yourself that this was somehow brought on by choices made in the past, even with the sophisticated talent you have for self-condemnation. He's not a disgruntled ex-boyfriend, or an unstable relative you sassed one too many times over Thanksgiving dinner. He isn’t one of your past mistakes. He's just some guy. 

He's aiming an M1911 somewhere below your clavicles and shouting words you've never been on the receiving end of, and in the time it takes him to do so, you're successful in finding one good thing about this whole experience: at least he isn't making one of your employees stare down the barrel, even if they have to watch you do it from a few feet away. Eliza and Ramón are adults, enrolled in the local college and with bills to pay, but to you they may as well be children. 

The man has a stutter you only notice when he calls you a bitch for the second time, deeming you too fucking slow in emptying the cash register into his bag. You wonder how he reached the conclusion that four hundred dollars would be worth the hassle. Who robs a bakery on a Saturday morning? People sleep in, especially in a small town. Or, most people do. The dark-haired man sitting all the way in the back with a half-eaten stack of pancakes looks wide awake. You don't know him either, but you don't think he's from around here. 

It's weird, in a way, that you aren't really thinking about what's happening in front of you. A bubble has fogged up your attention, and all that you remark upon is how the mellow 80’s playlist you picked out for today hasn't abruptly stopped playing. Thus, you'll always remember the current song as the soundtrack to your first time getting robbed. While you gather the bills from their slots in the register, it strikes you that you didn't have a song for other firsts in life. Not that there were that many worthy of background music. If anything, this feels fitting precisely because you couldn't have predicted which song would be playing when some asshole would pull his gun on you. What used to be lyrical perfection to you will likely ring a little apropos, from now until forever. You will, indeed, be waiting on a sunny day after this — many thanks to Bruce Springsteen for distracting you. 

"Are you deaf, bitch? Move it over. " 

The bubble evaporates. Yeah. Real grateful. 

You're going to do as he asks, because you are not alone. You won’t risk any lives, even if the Colt's safety has been on this entire time. You wonder if it's even his gun, by the way his hand curls around it clumsily. No real, hardened criminal would get so close when they have a ranged weapon, and maybe you’re right, but you won't take your chances. Speed in retrieving your own weapon is not the issue here — it's that if you do, you have to use it. You're not so sure it's the best course of action, even if the skin at your back itches against the warm metal nestled there. 

He's young. He didn't even bother covering his face, and the eye-watering lime green of his jacket is the very opposite of stealth wear. Maybe he's desperate, or maybe this is his first time too, though you don't think it'll be his last, especially since you've so far let it go smoothly for him.

You pause. This will give him the confidence to do it again some time, with someone else. Someone who isn't trying as hard as you to keep their impulses in check. Someone who doesn't have any urges at all, acting only on adrenaline and principles. 

You've always believed you weren't made out of the same things others were, and that's always proved true in the most unflattering ways. When you were followed home eight years ago and instead of freezing in fear, your body fought back until the skin barely clung to your stalker's face. When your first boss out of high school cornered you next to a dumpster to ask for a favor in return for the loan he'd given you, one that you'd already paid back, and he found himself short a couple of inches— terrible for him, because that was pretty much all he'd had. 

When Mark Davidson, a name you'd never forget, tricked your grandmother into signing away her house, and then his own turned to embers just two days later. It doesn't take you long to make a decision. It didn't take Mark very long to figure out the culprit behind his real estate mishap either, but only one of you walked away from the old quarry in that faded industrial town. 

There is, you realize, a choice being presented here. None of the other instances felt this ambiguous; either you fought, or you went along with an injustice and suffered for it. Plenty of people fight back out of a desire to protect themselves and their property, and plenty more do the exact opposite out of a desire to keep their lives. You aren't sure where you fit in this particular situation. The past has taught you time and again that you're part of the people who fight, but that has only ever resulted in a trail of smoke and no place to call home, because while fighting is one thing, not knowing when to stop is another.

“The fuck’s wrong with you?! I said move it over. ”

You didn’t have to do what you did. You could’ve stopped hitting when your stalker fell limp. You could’ve quit your job. Taken Mark to court instead of resorting to arson. Instead, you went with your instincts. You’re staring down the barrel again.

People catch on quickly in small towns, and having a reputation in the way that you used to is only good for warding off trouble. The bad people don't want to get close. But, neither do the nice ones. 

This is a nice town. Lively, warm. The people are bearable— even good, on occasion. Thoughts of your elderly neighbor are quick to surface, and the knowledge that Hazel expects you back home weighs heavily in favor of doing the very thing you're not used to doing. She'd be awfully disappointed if Sunday breakfast was canceled because you decided to give in to your worst impulses and fight like a rabid dog in the face of whatever provoked you. 

The man thrusts the gun even closer to your face with a slight tremor, a show of impatience. 

This is a good place to be. You never went back to industrial Auckney, and you don't want a repeat experience to follow you here like it followed you throughout the previous three towns where you tried to build a life. You don't want to have to leave. You don't want to make Hazel sad. So, you choose to let him go. You let it go. 

And just like that, you hand it over. There's no magical moment, no switch that flips. Making a decision that goes against your every instinct is a learning experience. You're not sure how suited you are to this new path. 

From there, things are quick to end. Once he's got a hold of the money, he backs out of the modest premises all wild-eyed, looking like he expects the cops to pull up at any moment. He's watched too much TV. Nobody even called them. A moment later, he takes off running down the street, green jacket like a neon sign against the stretch of asphalt. 

Breathe.  

Your rigid fingers unglue themselves from the counter's laminate surface and you finally turn your back, the gesture bordering on unnatural. As you do, your gaze settles on Eliza first. A nineteen year old girl with a frame that could be blown away by the wind is looking right through you, her fingers moving erratically against the blacked out touch screen of her phone. 

Five small steps bring you to her. You try to steady her shaking form while removing the phone from her hands. 

"Hey, it's okay. It's over, he's gone," you reassure her, but her breathing has picked up too quickly to go back down with just a few kind words. 

"Need to— I need to call the police. I—" 

Your hands find her shoulders as you hold eye contact and try to soothe her to the best of your ability. 

"You don't need to do anything other than breathe. I'll handle this. If you want to call someone, call a friend to come pick you up and drive you home. Ramón, you too. Take a few days off." 

The college junior throws you the strangest look you've seen in a while, but he too is shaken enough that he doesn't have the energy or the will to protest. 

"Come on. Go sit down for a bit. Both of you," you tell them, reaching under the counter for a bottle of water that you hand Ramón, silently gesturing towards the back room. A different environment would be good for wracked nerves. 

The two make their way towards the kitchen, and your eyes soften at the way Eliza has leaned into Ramón's embrace, quiet sniffles soon cut off by the stainless steel door. You aren't breathing quite right yourself, but you can live with it until things are settled. You can. You have to, because you aren't leaving this town. Not over some prick with shaky hands and horrible judgment. 

"Ma'am?" 

Instinct surges, and this time you can't force it back down. Fingers drawn to the Kimber's grip at your back, the movement feels almost liberating when you turn on your heel and lock target onto what startled you. Not that you'd ever admit it. You can't believe you didn't hear him coming until he was right there, staring at you with narrowed eyes. The dark-haired man in the back. Your only other witness. 

His hands go up in the universal gesture of surrender — or at least no harm intended — but it's too late. You've pulled a gun on a customer, and despite the fact that you kept your finger off the trigger, the damage is done. Lowering the weapon feels like a personal failure. You should've done this to the right person, less than three minutes ago. The man who's now in front of you has nothing to do with your misguided choice. 

But, he isn't leaving. Despite what you just did, he's looking at you in a way you can't decipher. Maybe he's one of those people who are hard to read, or easy to misread . Is it concern, or something else? On second thought, maybe you don't really care, unless he is a local and you've just tipped your hand in the long run. He certainly doesn’t look like the type of person to settle down in a place like this. If he’s just passing through, you can live with putting a gun in his face, as long as no one else saw you do it. 

"You alright?" 

The question surprises you, as does the way he asks it — genuinely enough, but the look he's pairing it with makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. He's watching too closely. There's too much knowledge behind his eyes, and something within you stirs uncomfortably. You don't even try for innocent. Instead, you put the .45 back where it came from and sigh, looking as dejected as possible. It isn't hard to do. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't hear you. I'm a little jumpy after… all that." 

The man takes in your words quietly, a single nod his only response. 

"Hell of a quick draw, that." 

You blink in surprise. Answering the remark is tricky. Is it praise, or judgment? Both? What do you say to either? You can't let too much time pass before you answer, as that would be an answer in itself. You settle on hiding the truth in plain sight. 

"Probably wondering why I didn't do that earlier, huh?" you ask, a nervous huff coloring your words. You lean on the counter separating you from the man, painting yourself a version of fragile that you hope translates well to his watchful eyes. But, to your dismay, he shakes his head, scanning you even more closely than before. 

"Nah. You had kids in here. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for. You did the right thing." 

It's not what you want to hear. It's also not something you think he's entitled to say, as though he's some kind of authority figure. What makes him so sure this was the right thing to do? You don't think it was. The more time elapses between now and the robbery, the more regret pools in your chest. You're having a hard time with the follow-through part of your decision to let it go, and he is most definitely not helping. 

The vexation makes your jaw tighten and the corner of your mouth turn down just so, and the all-knowing eyes studying you take notice. The words spill out before your brain can catch the mistake. 

"I don't see a badge on you, mister." 

It only takes him a second to pick up on the scorn in your remark, but to your great annoyance, he doesn't seem offended. On the contrary, the smirk rising to the surface suggests sardonic amusement. It also paints his face with the kind of insufferable attractiveness you’ve always been agitated by. 

"Should be glad about that. A cop probably would've done something stupid. He'd have gotten someone shot, tryna be a hero." He speaks words you can't help but feel are directed more at you than a theoretical police officer. Yet again, you don't bite your tongue, speaking with the same stiffness in your jaw. 

"Maybe. Or maybe he'd have just shot him down before the guy could pull the safety back on his own gun." 

"So why didn't you?" he counters immediately, the low timbre of his voice almost making his words vibrate through you. 

You breathe in sharply through your nose. The challenge in his tone is more curiosity than genuine provocation, but it still doesn't sit well alongside your growing frustration. Another veiled truth finds its way past your lips as you hold his hardened gaze. 

"Like you said. Couple bucks ain't worth dying for." 

He considers your answer for a moment or two, and then it's as if something hidden from view pulls his features into a different scene. A softer look takes hold, and on a man of his size and projected disposition, it looks almost out of place. Almost. You're not sure if the sudden change means he knows you weren't talking about yourself. 

He shuffles on his feet imperceptibly — not a mark of discomfort so much as it is, you suspect, restlessness. He clears his throat once, and then his eyes are no longer on you. 

"You uh, gonna call the cops any time soon?"

At his question, your gaze follows his a few inches to the right, where Eliza's phone rests atop the counter. It's where you placed it intentionally, so that she'd forget about what she wanted to do. And from the way he asked, you wonder if he's onto you about that.

"I'll file a report later. No need for them to show up. Not like they're gonna catch him," you say dismissively, finally leaning away from the counter and straightening your posture. You put some distance between you and him by taking one step back, wordlessly signaling that you’re done talking and hoping he's astute enough to pick up on body language cues. The slightest pursing of his lips tells you he is. Conversation over. 

He lingers only one more moment before he offers a final nod in your direction, turning in a distinctly controlled way that reeks of military habit and walking off. Only, he stops just short of reaching the door, and his hesitation makes the tension in your jaw return. He doesn't fully look back at you as he speaks. 

"It'll give those kids peace of mind. You should call 'em." 

You hold back a scoff. 

"Are you familiar with the cops in this town?" you drawl, a twinge of sarcasm flowing off your tongue. 

"No, ma'am. Can't say I am." 

The half-smirk you can still glimpse pulling at his lips beckons you to wipe it off, but you manage to hold back. He's almost out the door, anyway. 

"Well, for the record… We'd be safer with a labrador for defense. At least it's got teeth."

"That right?" he grins as if you've tickled his funny bone. He doesn't seem to have all that stellar of an opinion about the police either, if his jab about the theoretical cop is anything to go by. He's still not looking at you, and you don't understand what the hell he's stalling for. Typically, anyone witnessing what he did a little while ago would be out the door the minute it was over. And yet, here he stands, after you pointed a gun at him. Still.

"Yeah, that's right," you confirm, hoping this is finally the end of the exchange. 

It sure seems that way for a short moment of blessed silence.

"Is that why you picked a Warrior?"

His eyes finally veer towards you, smile completely gone. The muscles in your back are suddenly taut once more, and your lungs fill with air they greedily keep for a few seconds longer than they ought to. You don't know what to say. You're not sure why he's bringing up the model of your firearm, like he isn't even bothered that you shoved it in his face earlier. Maybe he's not. Maybe he's a weirdo. Maybe you're trying to convince yourself he doesn't know exactly what you're thinking, despite all the evidence to the contrary.

A scowl fights for control of your features as your hands twitch by your sides. You're still high on anger and guilt and growing resentment for not doing what you were itching to do earlier. Right next to those feelings, the desire to preserve the image it's taken you four years to build is putting up its own fight, albeit much less valiantly. You just want to be alone with your thoughts. Just a moment where you don't have to pretend. You don't know how long you have before your employees return from the kitchen.

"I don't follow," is what you say instead of telling him to get the hell out already.

It's not the right thing to say, because he fixes you with an unimpressed look and takes a couple of steps back inside. You've never had your bullshit called this efficiently, let alone by someone who doesn't know you.

"They didn't name it that 'cause it's meant for defense . And that ain't no standard issue you got there. I'm just— Look,"

You can't resist the urge to make a fist when he closes the distance again, ending up right back where he started. The only thing separating you once more is the service counter, but with the way he's staring you down, it might as well not exist. He looks away briefly, like he isn't sure he's going to say whatever words are already forming on his lips.

"It's none of my business. I get that. But I know that look in your eye, 'cause I've seen it a hundred times before. So I'm just gonna lay it out, alright?" he says, not asking or waiting for permission. "You're gonna go home tonight, and you're gonna toss and turn and not sleep 'til dawn thinkin' about what happened here. And you're gonna want to even the scales, or whatever bullshit you're telling yourself right now. But I'm telling you not to. Once it starts, that shit never ends. It follows you everywhere. Every goddamn place you set foot in."

The gruff voice, steady and so determined it infiltrates some deep part of your mind, softens on the very end of the sentence that you have no doubt will be the thing you'll actually think about tonight.

It follows you everywhere.

You should've told him to fuck off ten minutes ago. If you had, you wouldn't be standing here, trembling in anger. Or, at least, not this type of anger. The air you forcibly breathe out does not ease the tension.

Whatever desire to hold back that was present before is overpowered in its entirety by one single element. One thing that could easily define your life up until this point, and probably in perpetuity: not knowing when to back the fuck down. If he wants to have a go, well, who are you to deny him?

"Getting awfully personal there for someone whose name I don't even know. Sure you're not projecting a tiny bit?" you incise, a pitying pout meant to yank his chain blooming on your lips.

"Is that why your finger's twitching?" he shoots back, gaze locked on to the left hand resting by your side, except for the consistent movement of one particular finger. You abruptly stop, but it's hard for knowing eyes to mistake a trigger itch for anything else.

He knows that you know that he knows what you're thinking.

"Look, mister," you begin, absent a polite tone. "Whatever you think I am or am not going to do, you're right: it is none of your business. But seeing as it's so important to you, let me give you some peace of mind ." Throwing his words back at him makes you feel better, like you're slowly gaining an upper hand in whatever battle this nonsensical exchange is.

Pausing, you lean a little closer to him unnecessarily, an air of defiance permeating the space between you. You're sure it's both him and you contributing to it. You bite the inside of your cheek briefly right before you open your mouth again.

The distinct squeak of the back door swinging open halts the flow of words before it even begins, and Eliza soon enters your peripheral vision. For one short moment, the interruption riles you up, but you realize that this is the best way to ensure he fucks off once and for all. Just focus on someone else. Anyone else. You're happy to avoid that unnerving stare for the rest of your life.

Your stand-off finally ends when the young woman reaches your side, and you break your gaze away from the man's in order to give Eliza your attention, as well as to clearly send the message he's been having trouble getting. You aren't interested in his lecture, or the way you can still feel his eyes on you for a few more seconds after you've looked away.

It's only as you talk to Eliza about having her mother pick her up that you finally hear the man's quiet sigh of defeat, though it sounds more frustrated than upset to your ears. Good.

Then, just when you think he's given up, a hand slaps against the counter with a crinkling sound, the familiarity of it leaving no room for interpretation. You're about to throw him a look and sass him about having already paid for his meal, but before you can, he's already started walking off.

Your lips purse as you watch him exit the building, gait once again reminiscent of military custom. It's self-assured yet stiff, and you're pretty convinced at this point that he must've served. Whatever. Some rando with a chip on his shoulder has no business getting a rise out of—

As you look back at Eliza, a cursory glance to the bills he laid down has your muscles tensing again, and you resist the urge to go out after him. It's not the four hundred-dollar notes that piss you off. How he knew the exact amount handed over in the robbery wasn't much of a surprise to you, what with how keenly he’d watched everything unfold.

It's the two singles laid out on top of the pile that really get under your skin, a simple message he went out of his way to send.

Couple bucks ain't worth dying for.

.

.

-to be continued-

A/N: I'm in my Frank Castle era so strap in folks. I love soft!Frank but we're going to be getting a lot of asshole!Frank in this one, which I argue has the potential to be even more delicious. We'll have fluff, smut and all the goodness of Frank and Reader antagonizing each other while being mad about each other. Chapter 2 is ready to post for Friday!

[lovelynim]

Gains

Uta no Prince-sama - Ittoki Otoya x Tokiya Ichinose

A/N: FELIZ ANIVERSÁRIO @ppystkposts!!! EH NOIS QUEBRADA, TMJ VOA MLK TE ADORO E É ISSO AI!!!!!

Okay, jokes aside, I hope this is not too f*cked up because I didn't have a lot of time to research about them and I wanted to be really subtle about it so... yeah. I tried my best, but you deserve more than my best, but I can only offer you my best and-

*ahem*

Anyway, happy bday!!!

also i kind of inspired of that drawing off "lee mood otoya" you did cuz it was really cute, ehe

Summary: Otoya decides to show off his "gains" after months of workout.

Word count: 1078 words.

After months- no, probably a year already, it finally paid off! All those days struggling with lame diets and privating himself from eating tasty food… it was all worth it! 

Beaming with contempt, Otoya continued to admire his own brand new physique in the mirror, flexing his arms and turning around to check the defined muscles tensing up. He looked so cool! And even hot! Now, with his ultimate goal achieved, what should Otoya do?

Show off, of course.

Reaching for the plain white shirt that was laying around next to him, Otoya quickly got dressed up again and was ready to show off his brand new look. He couldn’t wait to brag about how awesome he would be in summer photoshoots or anywhere where he could show off his abs. So exciting!

Now, who should be the first one to know? Hmm…

Ah, of course. Who else better than the one next door?

“To-ki-yaaaa!! ~” Otoya sang, knocking on the door multiple times before walking inside the other’s room anyway. They were already beyond the level of intimacy where you’d need to wait for consent before walking in (at least, in Otoya’s view of their relationship). “Are you busy?”

No, he was - in fact - very busy. It’s been hours since he was drafting and trying out new lyrics, searching inside his head for anything that sounded nice in an eventual new performance. By now, even his legs hurt a little from sitting so long, waiting for the gears inside his head to turn. 

Still, just because he wasn’t making any progress, it didn’t mean he had time to waste with other things, like paying attention to whatever Otoya came up with this time. “Yes, so d-”

“Oh, oh, I promise it will be very quick!” Otoya spoke hurriedly, pushing the door close behind him - just to make sure he wouldn’t be shoved away again. “I just need to show you something. It’s really, really important!”

Tokiya rolled his eyes, already doubting anything from him would, actually, matter. Memories of previous “important things” scrolled through his mind and, so far, he couldn’t find one that was, actually, important. Still, if that would allow him to get back to work and satisfy Otoya’s need for attention…

“Sigh, fine,” Tokiya sighed, leaning back in his chair and spinning it to face Otoya. His arms were crossed in front of his chest, but his eyes were fixed on the redhead, which was enough for the latter. “What is it?”

“Heheh…” Otoya grinned in a way that made Tokiya shiver in his place. He made sure to stand right in front of him, tugging at his shorts with one hand and at his shirt with the other. Tokiya widened his eyes, already thinking about and expecting the worst.

“Wait, Otoya, don-”

“Check this out!” Otoya cheered while Tokiya let out a squeal and covered his eyes, hesitating to peek at… Otoya’s stomach? “Huh? Huh? What do you think?” The redhead added, arching his back a little more to highlight… well…

“What am I supposed to see?” Tokiya sighed, already composing himself again after the initial scare of being flashed with Otoya’s stomach. “Are your stomach hurting?” He said nonchalantly, looking up from his midriff to his face.

That was clearly not the answer Otoya was expecting from him. The beaming smile quickly faded into a pout with furrowed brows and eyes, totally offended, staring at him. “W-what?!”

Tokiya sighed. “Did you burst into my room just to show me your- ahm, stomach?”

“No! My gains! Look at my gains!” Otoya whined, how could Tokiya not see his totally-awesome-and-hot six pack?!

Tokiya’s eyes moved back down and stared some more into Otoya’s body and, after focusing a bit more, he could see the faint outline of some muscles. Was that what he was bragging about? He couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and peek back at Otoya’s reaction, his eyes almost meeting the latter’s expectant gaze. 

“Ohh,” he gasped, “I think I see now. Can I feel it?” He asked and cocked his head to the side, watching quietly as Otoya nodded to his request.

Tokiya’s hand slowly reached out, dragging his fingers - one at each direction - as he pressed his palm flat against the spot just above Otoya’s navel. The muscles were a little more perceptible through to the touch, he thought, caressing one of the nods of his pack.

“P-pfft…”

To think about it, Otoya was working out a lot more lately, and even stopped eating th- Tsk. “Stop moving,” he groaned, looking back up.

“T-then don’t tickle me!” The redhead complained, puffing out his cheeks.

“I’m not tickling you.”

“You totally are,” Otoya continued, tightening the grip around the hem of his shirt and biting his inner lip as Tokiya resumed his inspection. There was no way he wasn’t doing it on purpose, he thought, sucking in his stomach as Tokiya’s digits brushed around his stomach.

“T-Tokiyahaha,” he giggled, stomping his feet like a kid throwing out a tantrum, “don’t be so gehehentle!”

It was almost as if asking for the exact opposite. Resting his hand in other hand, Tokiya continued to wiggle his fingers up and down, “feeling” Otoya’s so-called gains as he did so. If it tickled so bad, why was he holding out his stomach like? Did he really want to show off his stomach so bad?

“It’s not my fault you’re so ticklish,” he mocked, pinching Otoya’s left side and making him jump out of reflex, a high-pitched yelp leaving his smiling lips. “See?”

“S-stohohop it! You’ve seen enahAHAH!!” He laughed out loudly, letting go of his clothes in a desperate attempt to stop the two hands that had suddenly latched onto his exposed body. “T-TOKIYAHAH!!”

“What? There is no way you grew only that much muscle after working out for so long,” he continued, dragging Otoya closer to his chair at the same time as he dug into his sides, letting his fingers vibrate against the spot below his ribs.

“N-NOhohoh! L-LehEHEHET GOHOH!!” Otoya protested, nearly falling to the ground as his knees gave in to the ticklish feeling. “T-thehehere is no gahAHAhains theheHEHere!”

“Are you sure? Because I think I feel something right… here,” Tokiya grinned, sparking a new chain of reactions as his hands crept to another spot. Well, surely Otoya didn’t expect to come to him and not go through a whole inspection, right? This was definitely what he came for.