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noona-la-la-la · 5 years

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Flight 18

Summary: Korean Air Flight 18 leaves daily from Los Angeles traveling to Seoul. You’ve taken this flight before, but this time you’ve got an irritating passenger in the neighboring seat. Little did you know that he would end up giving you the ride of your life.

Wordcount: 9500 ish. This was only supposed to be a small drabble, but I got carried away.

Warnings: Sex sex sex! Oral sex for everybody. Finger banging. Penis in vagina. Sex with strangers! Sex in a bathroom so if you are germ phobic, good luck with that. Also, dirty talking vulgarity galore.

Notable: It’s Hoseok y’all! So you can stop nagging me about how I don’t have any Hobi fics!

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“See something you like?” The man sitting across from you at the boarding gate stretched out his hands and spread his knees further apart, as if inviting you to take a closer look.

“I… I’m sorry. I was just zoning out. I didn’t even realize I was looking in your direction,” you lied.

“Uh-huh. Sure. Tell yourself whatever you need to, “ he replied with a smirk.

You ignored him, raising the book you had been reading higher, covering your face in an attempt to hide your embarrassment. The truth was you had been staring, but not because you were attracted. Instead you were appalled that anyone would show up to an airport dressed like that.

This guy, whoever he was, had shown up to the airport wearing shorts that appeared to be nothing more than a pair of gray sweats that had been cut off at the knees and a denim jacket that he had only bothered to use two buttons to close. He had on no shirt underneath and with his jacket being barely closed, a large portion of his upper chest and his abdomen were visible. His sweat-shorts were hung low on his hips to make sure the waistband of his Balenciaga underwear was visible for all to see. A hat kept his hair completely covered -- the only modest thing about him.

To think that guy would presume that you might be looking at him because you found him attractive was laughable. He looks like the kind of guy who got kicked out of his apartment for not paying rent. Probably couldn’t afford rent because he wasted all his money on stupid designer underwear. His landlord probably kept the rest of his wardrobe as collateral.

You stifled a laugh, amused by your own thoughts on why this stranger showed up to the airport looking like that. Attracted to him? As if.

Peeking over the top of your book to surreptitiously glance at the man again, you were relieved to see his eyes were closed. His arms were folded across his chest, causing his jacket to ride up some more, bringing his belly button into view. So tacky, you thought. Although, you had to admit to yourself, it was a nice belly button on a very nice abdomen… No, you shook your head, it doesn’t matter how nice his body is when this guy clearly has no sense of propriety.

Ladies and Gentlemen, we will now begin pre-boarding for Flight 18 to Inchon International Airport, South Korea…

You gathered your things and moved with the throng of people queuing up to board the plane. The flight had already been delayed by more than an hour and people seemed anxious to move as quickly as possible. Normally you would dread the 13 hour flight from Los Angeles to Seoul, but you had saved enough frequent flyer miles to get an upgrade to business class. You had taken this flight too many times in the noisy and cramped economy class and you were almost looking forward to relaxing in your extra long fully reclining seat with personal multimedia console and full bar service.

The business class cabin had wide seats staggered so as to allow some semblance of privacy. The center aisle had side by side seating separated by a low wall with a retractable window, allowing for traveling companions to chat or for strangers to put the window up and avoid interaction with each other. You were disappointed to see you had one of the center aisle seats instead of the single seats by the windows -- but took comfort that the wall between you and your neighbor meant that you wouldn’t be trapped in some idle chit chat for 13 hours.

You were struggling to get your carry on luggage into the overhead compartment when you heard a voice, “You aren’t a stalker, are you?”

With a final shove, your bag slid into place and you looked across your seat to see the man who would be sitting next to you for the flight. It’s was mister half-dressed-Balenciaga-underwear himself.

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“I asked if you were a stalker. First I catch you staring at me and now you’re sitting next to me… Look. I’m happy to give you an autograph or whatever, but I need to know you aren’t going to be one of those people who tries to take pictures of me while I’m asleep,” he said with a straight face.

“Is this some kind of joke? Why would anyone take pictures of you when you sleep?”

He looked at you inquisitively, one eyebrow cocked upward, and paused before replying. “So, you don’t know who I am?”

You tilted your head to the side, trying to see him from a different angle. “Am I supposed to know who you are? Are you famous or something?”

He thrust his hands in his pockets, causing his shorts to ride even lower on his hips, and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess I’m not famous enough if you don’t know me. Sorry to have interrupted you, please carry on.” With that, he plopped down in his seat and pulled a pair of headphones out of his bag, indicating the time for talking was now over.

You were left a bit flustered by the interaction. What a weird guy, you thought to yourself, hoping that this would be the last time you had to speak to him. You settled into your seat and closed your eyes as you awaited take-off but, despite your best efforts, your mind started to drift to thoughts of the man seated next you. What is this guy’s deal? Is he actually famous or is he just screwing with me? He is kind of good looking. But he’s so brash. He’d have to be brash to dress like that in public. Tacky. Tacky and brash… and a bit good looking.

“Would you like a drink, madam?” The flight attendant interrupted your thoughts to take your order.

“I’ll just have some water for now, thanks.”

“That sounds good,” the man next to you lowered the window that separated you to more easily speak to the attendant. “Only can you make mine a soda water? And add some vodka in there with it?”

“Yes, sir.” The attendant giggled, finding the way he ordered cute. You just rolled your eyes.

When the attendant returned, she handed you a small bottle of water and then reached across you to pass your neighbor his vodka and soda. You waited for a minute, assuming he would put the window back up, but when he didn’t -- you leaned forward to reach the button to put it up yourself only to be startled by his head suddenly popping through the opening.

“You really don’t know who I am?” He was leaning forward over the armrest, encroaching on your private space.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t. Is that a problem?” You wondered at this man’s ego.

He flashed a wide smile. “No. It’s actually great. It means when you were staring at me back at the boarding gate, it was because you were attracted to me and not because you were looking at a celebrity.” His eyes wandered across your body, making no attempt to hide that he was looking you up and down. “You aren’t too bad looking yourself, you know.”

You were agitated by his assumptions and blurted out the first thing that came to your mind, “You aren’t even wearing a shirt! How could I not look? Who dresses like that in public?!”

“So you’re more into my body than my face? That’s okay. I can work with that.” He winked at you before leaning back into his own seat and raising the window.

Stunned into silence, you stared at the barrier that separated the two of you. You could only see his hat poking up above the retractable window and you contemplated snatching it off his head and beating him with it. How could anyone be so audacious to say something like that?

You tried to read your book, but your focus kept being pulled back to the stranger in the seat next to you. What does he mean that he “can work with that”? You turned the page and squinted, reading the same paragraph multiple times in a row because you could not get the words to make sense. Also, who asked him for his opinion on my appearance. “Not that bad?” Whatever. I know what I look like. And he’d be lucky to be with someone like me.

Reading was pointless, so you plugged in your earphones and turned on the video console, flipping through the channels looking for something mindless to watch. You tried watching a movie, but your mind continued to wander. Seriously, who is that guy? Was he flirting with me? Is that what’s going on here? He is kinda cute in a dirty obnoxious sort of way.

You could feel your cheeks start to flush at the thought that the stranger could really be attracted to you and then immediately admonished yourself. Stop it! I always do this. Just because a guy is overly confident and shows the slightest bit of interest, I don’t need to be flattered. But, against all your efforts to maintain your composure, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought that this guy, even with all his arrogance and poor fashion choices, might be a little bit into you.

A few hours into the flight, the meal service began. When the attendant brought you your dinner, the guy in the seat next to you lowered the window again and looked at your tray of food.

“What did you end up ordering?” he asked without any preamble.

“I got the fish.” You answered curtly, but politely.

“I got the beef,” he answered you even though you had not bothered to ask him what he was eating. “I was thinking about the fish but I’ve had enough bad experiences with low quality airplane seafood to make me think twice about ordering it again. Is it any good?”

“It’s fine.” You refused to look at him as you answered his questions, not wanting to encourage him further.

“Can I try a bite?”

You set your fork on your plate, irritated at his rudeness. Who asks people they don’t know for the food off their plate? You turned to tell him that his request for a bite would be denied, when you once again given an unexpected shock. “Oh my god! Will you please button up? I can see your nipples!”

“Oh? Hmmm. I didn’t even realize the buttons had come undone.” He reached down and buttoned just two buttons on his jacket, making himself look only slightly less indecent.

“How do you not notice that you are basically topless?”

“I don’t know. I was warm. It happens. Besides, what’s the big deal with a little nipple action. I wouldn’t be freaking out and asking you to cover up if your nipples popped out of your top.”

You sputtered. “I… what? No. I mean… no. I would not have any nipples popping out because I would be wearing a shirt. Like I am now. A shirt! A real honest to god top that covers me and is appropriate for an airplane. Why aren’t you wearing a shirt like a normal person for god’s sake?!”

“That seems like an awfully personal question to be asking someone you just met.” His brows furrowed and his lips pulled taut. “Are you always so forward?”

Your own eyes flew wide open and you could feel the heat rising up your neck -- unsure whether this was frustration or embarrassment. How was it possible for this man to suddenly act as though he was the respectable person in this conversation.

Suddenly, his stern expression gave way to laughter. He could barely contain his glee. “Look at your expression. Wow! You look totally flustered!”

You reached over to raise the window and block him out again, but he pushed the button down to thwart you.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Do you really want to know why I don’t have a shirt on? Because there’s a story to this, but I don’t know if you really want to hear it.”

You doubted that he had a good reason for his attire, but you were curious. “Go on.”

“So here’s the deal. I actually had tickets for a flight back to Seoul tomorrow. But last night, my schedule for today got canceled. I asked my manager to try to get me on an earlier flight. He wasn’t sure if it was going to work out because it looked like all the flights were booked. So I said, see what you can do and call me if you get something booked and I’ll be ready to go whenever.”

“So far this sounds like a very average story about trying to change your flight. Where does the no shirt thing get explained?” you asked.

“I’m getting to it. Since I wasn’t sure if the flight change was even going to happen, I went on about my evening…” he paused to think about how he wanted to phrase things. “Let’s just say, I went out socializing and I ended up falling asleep at my, um, new friends’ house. When I wake up this morning, I’ve got 10 messages from my manager. He had been trying to get me all night to tell me he got me on the noon flight to Seoul, but I had my ringer turned down really low and didn’t hear him. When I called him back, he said he had gotten all my stuff packed up and sent my clothes to the airport with my stylist…”

“You have a stylist and you still end up coming to the airport like this?”

“Just let me finish, alright? He said the stylist took my luggage with most of my clothes to the airport with her to start checking in and he had my carry on and passport and everything. I just needed to meet them at the airport. So I go to find the clothes I was wearing the night before, but one of the girls in bed with me was asleep wearing my shirt…”

“Wait! One of the girls in bed with you? How many girls were in this bed?” This guy was something else, you thought.

“Only two. I’m not crazy -- more than two is nearly impossible to manage. Anyways, I try to wake her up so I can get my shirt back, but she’s super groggy and still half asleep and she’s grabbing at my junk like she wants to suck my dick again, but I don’t have time for that. So, I just put on my jacket, leave, and hail a cab to the airport. When I got there, my stylist already checked in my luggage under her name, so all I had was this one backpack I always use as my carry on. My manager somehow remembered to throw in a fresh pair of underwear for me, but nothing else. And so here I am, wearing last night’s clothes, minus one shirt and adding a fresh pair of undies.”

You weren’t sure whether or not to believe him. “So… huh. Um. Well, that sure is a story.”

“You look like you don’t believe me.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just that it’s so… I don’t even know. So you’re wearing the same clothes you supposedly had sex in last night?”

“I took the clothes off to have sex. So technically, no, I did not have sex in these clothes.” His face was relaxed as he relayed his story, no sign of embarrassment or shame.

“Most people would want to keep those details private, wouldn’t they.”

“I don’t know about most people, but I was just answering your question. Besides it’s true and there’s nothing to be ashamed about. We’re all grown-ups here.”

“Still, it feels so dirty.”

“Like I said, I’m wearing fresh underwear. Also, when the flight got delayed, that gave me time to run over to the lounge and use the showers in the spa. That’s why I have to keep my hat on -- didn’t have time to do my hair after the shower, I had to run back to the gate. The point being, you don’t have to worry about there being any sex-juices or other-girl-cooties on my body. I’m fresh and clean and ready to be put to use, if that’s something you’d like.”

“I… what?!” You were dumbfounded. This man you had just met was telling you sordid stories about his sex life and then asking if you would like “put him to use”. Your mind reeled. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because I think you’re kinda hot. And you think I’m kinda hot too. So, why not? Besides, I’m not expecting you to make a decision now. I’m just laying the groundwork so you’ll feel ready when I make a real proposition to you.”

Never in your life had anyone been so brazen with you. “How is this laying the groundwork for anything?” you asked incredulously.

“Because now you’re thinking about my dick,” he smirked.

“I am not!” you huffed.

“Anyhow - I’ll leave you to finish your meal in peace. We can talk more later.” And he pressed the button to raise the window, again separating himself from you, only the blue of his hat visible above the barrier.

You ate your meal in silence but couldn’t really enjoy the taste of anything because he was right, you were actually thinking about his dick.

Stop. Stop stop stop stop, you told yourself. But there was no stopping it. You picked up your book, but every few minutes, you’d pause to wonder who those women were that he had sex with last night. Did he know them well? Why did they want to have sex with him so badly that they were willing to share him? How does one man even manage to satisfy two women? Does he have some kind of magical sexual prowess? Is this story even true? He has to be making this up.

You ordered a glass of wine and listened to some music. One song in particular reminded you of your last boyfriend. The two of you had broken up over two months ago and you hadn’t had so much as a date since then. Lack of sexual compatibility was part of the reason you split -- but general boredom was the primary motivator.

You ex was the epitome of a nice guy. Easy going, unassuming, respectful. You didn’t go out much during the week since both of you had full time jobs and wanted to be well rested for work. Weekends were spent at farmers markets, scenic drives through the woods, going to the movies. It was pleasant. In bed, he was romantic and caring, always careful and cautious with your body, wanting to make sure you were okay. It was an absolutely stress free love affair. And that was part of the problem.

After a while, you started to crave tension. It showed up first in the bedroom when you asked him to pull your hair or talk dirty to you as a change of pace. He tried, you had to give him credit for that. But every time he uttered the word pussy or said he wanted to fuck you, the words came out whispered and hesitant. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that even if he learned how to say those words with confidence, you would still be wanting much more than he was able to give.

Over time, you started to realize your dissatisfaction had worked its way into all your interactions. He was always so agreeable. You shared the same views on social matters and politics. He never disagreed when you suggested a movie to watch or restaurant to go to. You began to wonder if he really was someone who shared all your points of view on everything, all the time -- or was he just so conflict avoidant that he had given up having a personality of his own.

I bet that guy has a filthy mouth on him. Even if he is an asshole, I’m sure he knows how to have a good time. You pondered the raised barrier and were curious as to why he had not tried talking to you again. It had been a couple of hours since your last interaction and he made it sound like you should be waiting for him to hit on you. Oh my god - am I actually looking forward to that cocky son-of-a-bitch talking to me again? No, I’m just attention starved. I need to start dating again -- but real men, not make believe celebrities with no shame.

The captain turned off the main lights in the cabin to give people an opportunity to sleep if they wanted. You closed your eyes and reclined your seat. Maybe it would be best to just try to sleep for a bit and put everything out of my mind. You would be more clear headed if I just got some rest.

It was a few hours later when you awoke. The cabin was quiet. A few people conversed in hushed tones, the faint glimmer of an occasional video screen. One of those glimmering screens was coming from your neighbor.

You stretched a bit and moved your seat to be a little more upright. Surprisingly, the window between your seats was down. Did he lower it to try to talk to me while I was asleep? You peered over at him and took comfort that he was fast asleep, clearly having dozed off while trying to watch a movie.

His slumber gave you an opportunity to really look at him more closely. He looked serene and gentle when he wasn’t awake. His facial features were really quite delicate, a high narrow nose bridge, moderately plump and perfectly pink lips, high cheekbones, his face was gently tanned by the sun. You would describe him as almost pretty. His clavicles were pronounced, his chest a bit paler than his face -- he must have been wearing his shirt when he went out in the California sun -- his abdomen was taut and firm, he clearly worked out.

You let your eyes travel further, until noticed something striking going on with his shorts. At first you wondered if it was just an odd shadow being cast from the lights from the video screen, but the more you looked, the more certain you were that you were looking at an erection. Not fully erect, you presumed, but there was enough that the draping of the fabric could not conceal everything he had going on between his legs. This was the distinct form of a penis and you couldn’t stop staring at it.

“See something you like down there?”

His voice caught you by such surprise you literally jumped in your seat and hit your elbow against the side wall, knocking over your headphones, sending them clattering to the floor. “Ouch! No. What? I… what? No. I was just… I woke up and I saw the window thingy was down and was just checking to see if you wanted to talk to me or something… or you know.”

He laughed aloud, stretched his arms over his head and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Were you planning on asking my dick whether or not I wanted to talk to you? Because I doubt it’s going to tell you much.”

“What?! I.. no! What are you talking about?” You tried to act indignant to hide your humiliation at being caught staring at his genitals. When trapped, deny everything, you thought.

“Are you married? Have a boyfriend?” He rolled to his side, still reclined in his seat.

“No. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“I know I come on strong. But life is short and I just think if you want something, you should say so. And I want you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat at his directness, but you tried to hold your expression steady. There was no point in getting involved with a guy like this. “You don’t even know me.”

“Ah, let me be more clear. I want to have sex with you. Right now.” He carefully watched your face to judge your reaction. “Was that too forward? I could try the romantic approach if you want, but I always feel like it’s a little dishonest. I never want to mislead anyone.”

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest and you felt a little light headed. You had a couple one night stands back in your wilder college days, but those days were long gone. Besides, no one had ever approached you quite like this. “I appreciate your candor, but I’m just not that kind of girl.”

“What kind of girl do you think is the kind to say yes?” He started to sit upright, keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I don’t know exactly. You had two women in bed with you last night -- so those kinds of women, I guess.”

“Do you think you are better than them because they gave in to their carnal desires and just let themselves enjoy the moment? No one was hurt. There was no damage done.”

“How do you know there was no damage done? You just left them there.”

He shook his head, dismissing your statement. “They were groupies, star fuckers. I was just a name on their bucket list. Last night they had sex with me and tomorrow night they’ll be chasing down Shawn Mendes or some other dude. I gave them what they wanted and they gave me a hell of a good time. Is that so bad?”

This seemed so unbelievable to you. “Are you really famous? Or have you just been messing with me?”

“Is me being a celebrity the thing that will make the difference in whether you say yes or no to having sex with me?”

You started to squirm under his gaze. Until now, he had been cocky and arrogant, but it all seemed like a game. Now, it was starting to get a little more serious and you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. “I don’t actually care if you’re famous or not. I’m just not generally the kind of person who does whatever she wants -- there are rules against these kinds of things, you know?”

“So you admit that you want it too.” He looked a bit too pleased with himself.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Are you sure? It sounds to me like you are trying to talk yourself out of something you actually want. What’s the point of that?

You immediately thought of your ex-boyfriend again. Simple, proper, agreeable and dull. You had left him for want of more excitement and now here was a man you just met, who was offering you nothing but excitement. But still, you hesitated, remaining silent but not explicitly saying no.

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a condom, making sure you saw it before he slipped it into his pocket. “Safety first,” he said. “Also, no strings. No commitments. One time - no shame, no guilt. No consequences.”

“I don’t know…” was all you could eke out.

“It’s time for you to figure out what you want. So here’s the deal,” he sat up and turned to face you fully. “I’m getting up and heading into that restroom over there,” he motioned toward the front of the plane, pointing to the left. “I’ll leave the door unlocked while I wait for you. If you decide to join me, just pop in. From there on, it’s ladies choice. I can make it as sweet or as nasty as you want it to be.”

“What happens when I don’t show up?”

“IF you don’t show up, then you don’t show up. I’m a big boy -- I’ll find other ways to occupy myself.” With that, he stood up and swaggered away.

This is insane. Who does this guy think he is? How full of himself is he that he can saunter off expecting me to follow him? You glanced at the time on your phone. I wonder how long he plans on waiting?

You remembered reading an article about people who have sex on airplanes; it said that almost 20 percent were complete strangers who met on the plane. At the time you couldn’t imagine how something like that was even possible. I guess I know now.

You wanted to giggle to find yourself in this predicament. You wanted to be outraged at how presumptuous he had been, but instead you found yourself feeling a bit flattered. It’s just because I haven’t had much male attention in the past two months. I’m just feeling a bit deprived - that’s all it is. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even entertain the thought of doing something like this. But you were entertaining it and it made you nervous.

You looked around the cabin, most of the other passengers were fast asleep. The few who were awake mostly seemed to be watching movies with headphones on. The flight attendants were chatting quietly on the right hand side of the galley, leaving the restrooms on the left side, mostly ignored.

What would my friends say? Inha would think it’s gross. Hyeweon would think it’s hilarious. Dahyun would applaud you for taking risks and trying something new. Chaewon would be jealous.

Six minutes. That’s how much time had passed. How long will he wait? 10 minutes? 15? Certainly not more than that.

You had met girls who were wild and slept around. When you were younger you used to think that they would end up regretting their poor choices. Yet, you had never once met anyone who told you they wished they had less sex or that they had fewer adventures in their past. Why are you overthinking this! Be bad for once in your life. Who have you ever talked to that regretted going wild? Nobody - that’s who! Regret is what you feel when you don’t do something, right? But still… sex with a stranger?

You don’t even fully remember standing up and walking down the aisle. All you knew was that your hand was on the door to the restroom and there was no turning back now.

There was no greeting. No welcome. Just his lips crashing into yours, fervently prying your mouth open with his tongue. Your body stiffened in surprise but you did not try to pull away. His skin was smoother than you expected, his scent was sweet and fresh like the air after a summer rain, his lips seemed far too soft for the violence and urgency of the kiss itself.

In a far corner of your mind, you could hear your conscience telling you to stop, to run away and return to your seat, to retreat to the relative safety and comfort of your normal self. But as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled your tighter against his body, that voice became more and more distant, until finally it disappeared altogether. You finally relaxed, sinking into him and wrapping your tongue around his.

Just let everything go and do as you please for once, you told yourself. Just this once, with no fear and no regrets.

His kisses moved to your neck as he began to maul you with his hands, squeezing your buttocks, reaching up to molest your breasts, grasping at them through your shirt. His motions were rough and passionate. His teeth scraped against your skin while he tugged at your shirt hem, trying to remove it. You obliged his silent request by pulling away from his grasp, slipping your shirt over your head and tossing it on the counter.

He did not lean back in to continue kissing you. Instead, he leaned back as much as he could in the confines of the tiny restroom to assess your body, lingering on your chest. His hand reached out to trace the edges of your bra before he finally spoke to you. “How do you want it?”

“Excuse me? I don’t under…”

“How do you want things to go?” He looked up at you, holding your gaze. “I told you this will be ladies choice. Tell me what you want me to do?”

You could feel yourself starting to blush. You had been comfortable letting him take control, but now that he was putting you on the spot to ask for what you wanted, you found yourself growing shy. You broke eye contact with him and looked down at your feet, crossing your arms as you tried to think of what to say.

“Cat got your tongue?” he teased. “You’re more delicate than I presumed. So do you prefer gentle and sweet? I can whisper sweet nothings in your ear.”

“No. Not like that.” You shook your head to emphasize that romance was not your objective. You had enough of romance and sweetness.

“Well then... You want it dirty and you’re just too shy to ask for it?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I mean, some dirty talk might be nice.”

“Some? Exactly how much is some? I can get pretty filthy if you want me to.”

Awkwardly, you put your arms back by your side and glanced up at him, trying to feign confidence. “How filthy?”

His eyes flashed with desire as he leaned closer to you, running his hands down your arms. “Let’s try this. Take off your bra and let me see you.”

You reached behind yourself to unclasp your bra, a slight tremor in your hands. You were extremely conscious of how bright the lights were and it made you a little nervous to be so exposed and so visible. “What about you?” you asked as you let your bra slip off your shoulders and you placed it on top of your shirt.

“Me?” He unbuttoned his jacket and tossed it aside. “Done. Now we’re both topless.”

He leered at your chest now, cupping your breasts in his hand as if weighing them. “Very nice. You have beautiful breasts.” He watched your face closely for a response.

“Thanks, I guess.” You weren’t sure what he was expecting from you.

“That’s not it, huh? How about this?” He ran his thumbs over your nipples, brushing against them until they grew and hardened. “I love a girl with a nice pair of tits. Yours are amazing. I can’t wait to suck on those nipples.”

His directness was appealing. “I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

Leaning down, he caught your left nipple between his lips and sucked at it, his tongue running circles over it. The sensation was pleasant and you reached over to pull his hat off his head after suddenly being overwhelmed by the urge to run your fingers through his hair.

“I told you I’m having a bad hair day, so just know that.” He wagged a finger at you before pulling off his own hat and tossling his dark brown locks that had been matted down by hours confined under a hat.

He bent back down back down to suckle at your nipples, his lips latched tightly to the protruding bud. The suction sent little shock waves down between your legs as if your breasts were attached to your sex.

Soon, he detached himself and stood back up, whispering in your ear. “Your tits are tasty, but I bet your pussy is even better.” His hand slid between your legs, kneading your cloth covered crotch. Pulling back a little to better see your face, he asked you, “I want to touch your pussy.” He watched your reaction carefully. “Or would you rather I finger fuck your cunt?”

Your previous boyfriend would have sooner died than ever uttered the dreaded “c” word. But hearing a man you just met talk about your cunt thrilled you, and you could feel the moisture gathering between your legs. “Finger my cunt, please,” you whispered back at him.

He smiled and nodded. “Yeah, you do want it dirty don’t you?”

All you could do was nod in affirmation before he shoved his hand under the waistband of your pants and beneath your panties, tracing your slit before penetrating you with his fingers. He slid in and out of your vagina, the palm of his hand cupping your vulva. His lips returned to your neck, biting at you. The heat of his breath matched the growing warmth of your sex. “Oh, fuck! That feels good,” you encouraged him to keep going.

“You like that? You like having my fingers up your cunt hole? You like getting finger banged by some dude in a public toilet? Tell me again about what kind of girl you are. Little miss prim and proper, my ass.”

Biting your lip, you tried to hold back, but you couldn’t help it. You mewled like a cat to hear the filth coming from his mouth. Your stomach fluttered at the crude way he described your reality. You were now the kind of girl who lets a guy finger her in an airplane toilet. This was not who you thought you were when you woke up this morning.

Enthused by the sounds emanating from you, he started to finger you more vigorously. Slipping in a second digit and thrusting so hard, it shook your body. His other hand slid up your back, over your neck until his fingers were entwined with your hair. He ensnared a fistful of hair right at your scalp and pulled your head back, further exposing your neck to him. He licked a line from your clavicle to your chin and then planted a long lingering kiss on your lips.

Your mewls turned into a full on moan. Never had you been this turned on in your life. “Oh my god,” was the most coherent thing you could say.

“I love those little noises you are making, but if this is how you get from a finger fuck, I can’t wait to see how you react when I’ve got my face buried in your snatch. Now, let’s get these pants off of you.”

He tugged at your waistband, lowering your pants and panties together, getting them to mid thigh when you took over - wiggling to get them to fall to the floor before kicking them off completely. “Shouldn’t you be getting undressed too?” you asked.

“There’s some time before that’s necessary. Let’s take care of you first.” He tried to kneel down, but the tiny confines of the bathroom made it difficult. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up off the floor and set you on to the narrow counter.

You sat precariously, one butt cheek halfway over the sink, and you could feel the cold hard metal of the faucet pressing uncomfortably into your backside. Before you could adjust yourself, you felt hands pressing your thighs upwards, bending your knees into your chest and without warning, something soft and wet snaking through the folds of skin between your legs. You clung tightly to the edge of the counter to keep from slipping off.

Looking to your side, you could see your reflection in the mirror on the back of the bathroom door, your naked body illuminated by the harsh light overhead. The rather unflattering lighting and pose was offset by the amazingly lurid sight of a man kneeling on the floor, his head pressed between your thighs.

He lapped at your clit, dragging his tongue across your pussy - wet and sloppy. You looked down at him, his face glistening with your juices just as he came up for air. “That’s one juicy and delicious cunt you got there. You get this wet for all the boys, or is it special for me?” he asked before diving back in, opening his mouth wide as if trying to devour you whole.

It felt amazing. The heat inside your grew with every stroke of his tongue against your raw flesh. He let go of one thigh and brought it to you damp slit, further spreading your lips apart. His nose pressed against your clit while he inserted his tongue where his fingers had been earlier. Sucking and slurping away at you.

“Mmmmmmmm…” You desperately tried to keep quiet. Biting down hard on your lower lip to prevent yourself from being overheard by the people outside, but still the occasional hushed moan or hum would escape your lips. The noises spurred him on to keep going, rubbing his face into you, covering himself with the glistening evidence of your arousal.

He let go of your other thigh to insert his fingers back into you while his lips affixed themselves directly to your clit. His fingers curving upward as he pumped them in and out of you, hitting your g spot with every stroke, while his tongue laved your clit. “Please don’t stop,” you pleaded as you grabbed on to his hair and pulled his face tighter into you. “Please.”

You extended your legs, realizing that the bathroom was so small that you could sit on the counter and plant your feet on the opposite wall, helping stabilize you enough that you could close your eyes and just let yourself feel the pleasure of this man ministering to your sex.

As your orgasm approached, you could feel you leg start to shake and your breath quicken. He sucked lightly at your clit before pulling back the hood and drawing his tongue gently across the surface. You gasped aloud at the intensity, which he took notice of. “You like that? You like being spread open wide and licked like a bitch in heat? Tell me.”

“Yeah. I like it.”

“What do you like? Say it. You aren’t the only one who wants to hear some dirty talk. Tell me what exactly you like.”

“I like it when you lick my cunt. I like the way your tongue feels against my clit. God, I’m going to cum if you keep doing it like this.”

Smiling, he returned to his duties; his mouth placed firmly against you and slurping at you like eating a ripe piece of fruit. He removed his fingers from inside you and instead used them to spread you pussy lips even wider open. The loss of sensation from within you was disappointing. You were so close to cumming right on his face, but the urgent desire to have something inside you was growing stronger.

“I need you inside me,” you implored.

He didn’t hesitate. Standing up from his position on the floor, he massaged the growing bulge in his shorts for a moment while staring directly into your eyes. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

Your eyes wandered down to where his hand was playing with himself. “I want you to fuck me. I want it so bad, you don’t even know.” Any reservations or shyness you once had was driven out by the overwhelming lust.

“Oh, I know.” His conceit was amazing, but you were too horny to care.

“So what are you waiting for?”

He pulled his shorts and underwear down in one fluid motion, leaving him completely naked in front of you. His body was lean and taut, the image of youthful sexuality. His dick stood proudly erect in front of him, firm and smooth. Between his two fingers, he held up the condom that he had stealthily removed from his pocket. “You, put it on me,” he demanded.

Sliding off the counter, you welcomed being able to stand upright for a moment, with nothing poking you in the back and no fear of accidentally slipping off. But once again the space was so cramped, that you could not both stand on the floor and not have your bodies collide. His distended dick brushed against your pussy as you grabbed the condom from his hand.

He leaned in and kissed you again, deeply and passionately. “Can you taste yourself? You were fucking delicious, I could have stayed down there for hours. You should know what you taste like.” With that comment, he slipped his finger back between your folds, dipping into your juices and pulling out a slick and glazed finger. He held it to your lips. “Suck my finger and taste for yourself.”

You balked at first, never having even thought of what you might taste like. But he pressed forward and you grew curious, opening your mouth until he laid his finger on your tongue. You licked his finger clean, intrigued to see if you were as delicious as he had claimed. The salty sweet mixture was better than you imagined. “Good girl,” he told you.

Fumbling with the condom wrapper, you finally got it open and reached down to grab hold of his manhood. You held him in your palm and enclosed your fingers around him, meaning to hold him steady while you slipped the condom over the head of his dick, but you couldn’t resist stroking him with your hand for a moment. He sighed contentedly at the sensation and leaned back against the wall, allowing you more room to see what you were doing.

His penis was beautifully formed, you thought. Big enough but not too big. Firm and hefty, the girth felt just right in your hand. Without thinking, you pressed the head of his cock against your slit and stroked it against your clit. His eyes flew open wide and he looked down at what you were doing.

“Were you planning to fuck me raw?” he asked.

“No, I just wanted to know what it felt like.” You quickly slipped the condom over the tip and rolled it down his shaft. Although, you had to admit that the idea of having condomless sex seemed appealing -- but you had not yet lost all your sense of self preservation. “Now you have a little bit of my pussy juice under the condom with you.”

“You act so normal, but you’re a freak in the sheets, aren’t you?” He grabbed you by the shoulders and spun you around so he was pressed into your back while you could see his face reflected back at you in the mirror over the sink. “Now, spread your legs and hold still while I shove my cock up your hot little fuck-hole.”

You keened at the vulgarity, spreading your legs wide and leaning forward enough to arch your back slightly, giving him better access. He leaned over you, squatting down slightly to slip his penis into you, pressing his chest against your back and then thrusting upward, pushing forward and burying himself to his hilt inside your pussy.

“Good god, you are so warm inside.” He slowly pulled himself out before thrusting up into you again and again… and again. Slow and steady, he fucked you for several minutes, but you wanted more and started pushing back against him, egging him on to fuck you faster.

“Nice, “ was all he said before slapping your ass and speeding up his thrusts.

“Yeah,” you panted. “Very nice.”

He folded his body over you, planting one hand on the counter to hold him steady and sliding the other hand around you to stroke your clit while he fucked you. You could feel an ache starting to build up inside you and wanted more. You raised one leg and placed it on top of the closed toilet seat lid, spreading yourself open wider and giving him greater access to you.

As his fingers drummed against your clit, his thrusts accelerated. His body engulfed you and his mouth was pressed against your ear where he whispered to you. “Such a good girl, huh? Is this what you do? Fuck total strangers in bathrooms? You act all proper, but you really just want to get a good pounding in your cunt by some random dude. You don’t even know my name, do you?”

For the first time, it dawned on you that you had never bothered to ask his name. Nor had he asked for yours. The realization both appalled and thrilled you. This was by far the most depraved thing you had ever done. “What is your name?” you asked while he continued to plunge his cock deep into you.

“What does it matter now? You are fucking a total and absolute stranger. I’m going to make sure you cum on the cock of a guy whose name you don’t know. Just think about that, my dick is rammed up your cunt and you like it. What does that make you?”

You tried to fight the moan building in your throat. His words should offend you but instead they brought you closer to the edge. “A slut,” you answered him. “Fucking a total stranger makes me a slut.”

“That’s okay,” he consoled you. “I’m a dirty slut too.”

He grabbed your breast and buried his face in the crook of your neck, sucking on the skin. His fingers continued their assault on your clit while he pounded away at you pussy. Finally, you came undone, gasping, open mouthed in a silent scream as your orgasm hit with full force. Your body shook and all you could do was whimper quietly until finally the feeling subsided.

“Oh my god. That was amazing,” you turned around to face him.

“I’ll say.” He looked desperate and his eyes blown wide. “I could feel you pulsing around my cock. I was so close to cumming myself. I just need a little more to take me over the edge.”

“What exactly do you want?”

He moved you to the other side of the room so he could now sit on top of the closed toilet seat. Slipping off the condom, he told you exactly what he wanted. “Suck me off. I want to cum down your throat.”

You looked at his dick, standing ramrod straight, leaking precum from the tip. It looked ready to bust and you felt a strange pride that you had managed to get him this turned on. Without a second thought, you dropped to your knees and took him in your mouth.

His brow furrowed as he watched you bobbing your head up and down, snaking your tongue along his shaft. One hand held your hair back while the other balled up in a fist and rested on the counter. He was holding back, you could tell.

Redoubling your efforts, you locked your lips around him and focused on the head of his cock, swirling your tongue over the sensitive tip, before inching down further until you had swallowed as much of his flesh as you could stand.

“Fuck yeah. You are really good at this. You must have sucked a lot of dick.” For a guy who claimed to have had sex with two women the night before, you took this as a significant compliment. “I’m not going to last long if you keep this up.”

You came back up for air and smiled. Gripping his saliva covered cock, you stroked his shaft while planting delicate kisses at the tip. “I want to see you cum. I want to taste you. If I’m going to be a slut, I want it all.” You then plunged your head back down, sucking him like your life depended on it. You wanted him to remember you the next time he got his dick sucked by some random girl. Your pride depended on it.

It was only a couple minutes when he started to completely lose himself. You watched as he pursed his lips and threw his head back. His grip on your hair tightened and his eyes glazed over while you could see his abdomen contract and then you tasted it. The slightly salty, slightly bitter taste of his cum landed on your tongue. You pushed your head down further so he could truly cum down your throat and making it easier to swallow. It was only a few spurts, but they seemed to come out with great force, nearly making you choke.

When he was done, his body relaxed and he slumped forward. “My god, I’m going to need a nap after that. You sucked the life right out of me.” He leaned down, placing his hand under your chin and tipping your face upwards, planted a soft and rather sweet kiss on your lips. “Thank you. This was wonderful,” he said.

“The feeling is mutual.”

After giving yourselves a minute to bask in the afterglow, you both started the clumsy task of getting redressed in the tight confines of the bathroom. You bumped into each other, knocking into the walls and accidentally turning on the sink, until finally you were both dressed and ready to step outside.

As soon as you opened the door, a flight attendant stood in the passageway and greeted you with a knowing look. “If you both want to retake your seats, we’ll begin breakfast service soon and should be landing in another hour and a half.”

Mortified, you returned to your seat and tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone else on the plane. Had they all heard you? Did everyone know? Your partner in crime seemed unphased and immediately fell asleep as soon as he sat down.

The rest of the flight seemed to go without incident. You refused breakfast in order to avoid talking to the attendant and hid yourself behind your book. You tried to read, but the truth was you couldn’t help replaying the events from just an hour before while you grinned like a giddy schoolgirl, amazed that you had been caught doing something extremely naughty but somehow escaped punishment. You doubted that you would be able to think about anything else for days to come.

Once the plane landed, your neighbor finally awoke and stretched out. He looked across at you and smiled warmly. “Hey, I just want to say that I enjoyed our flight and will remember this fondly. I hope you will too.”

You tried to look look cool and unfussed, although you were secretly happy that he wasn’t completely ignoring you and running off without saying anything like he did to those girls from the night before. “I have no regrets. It was a good time.” You stood up to gather your things and wait to get off the plan, but noticed he was making no moves. “Are you just going to hang out on the plane?”

“I have to get off last. It’s too much chaos with the fans in the terminal, so I’ll get off later with my team. It gives the other passengers time to get by before the mob of fans and paparazzi obstruct everything.”

“Ah, right,” you said, disbelieving. You wondered if this was just a ploy to separate from you and cover up for the fact that he had been playing at being a celebrity this whole time. “Out of curiosity, what is your name?”

He thought for a moment before answering. “You can just call me Jay.”

“Is that your real name?”

“Nope,” he responded honestly. “Let’s just say that it’s something of a nickname that I’ve been given. It seems the most appropriate way for you to remember me.”

You shrugged your shoulders and decided to not break the illusion. “Well, Jay, thanks for everything.” You gave him a small wave good-bye before stepping into the aisle with the rest of the exiting passengers and left him behind forever.

--------------------

Mini-Epilogue:

You walked down the wide concourse, pulling your luggage behind you. You were largely unaware of your surroundings since you attention was on your phone, trying to text your friends that you had landed and make plans for seeing them later in the evening. You had already been practicing in your head how you would tell them about your adventurous flight and the mystery man who made it so memorable.

Behind you, you could suddenly hear a loud commotion. Girls cheering and yelling, the rushing of feet. You turned to see what was going on and could see the flashing of cameras as a crush of people moved towards the exits. You strained to see who was at the center of all the excitement.

“Do you know what’s going on?” you asked an older man standing next to you who was also watching the crowd pass by.

“It’s one of those idol boys. The girls go nuts for them. I saw one of the girls carrying a sign saying ‘Welcome back J-Hope’. What kind of name is J-Hope anyway? It sounds weird if you ask me.”

“I’ve never heard of him. He must not be too famous.”

“Exactly. These girls should all be in school and not following around some no name nobody.” The man threw his hands up in disgust before walking off.

You turned to go your own way, but a thought nagged at you. You tapped the name J-Hope into your phone and smiled at the results. The story you would tell your friends just got a bit more interesting.

#BTS smut #Hoseok smut #J-Hope smut #BTS fic #Hoseok fic

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Note

89 & 90 from the love prompt with Topper

you got it! gonna try and repair the hearts i broke with the last one oop. i didn’t proofread this sry in advance

89. “I noticed.” 90. “You can tell me anything.”

pairing: topper thornton x reader

warnings: fluffffff

word count: 730

It had been a long week. Turns out juggling a part time job with full time undergraduate studies is not easy, especially during finals. Having written your intermediate stats final at 9 am, followed by a long shift at the local diner across from campus where you had worked short staffed because someone had flaked on her shift again, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for fifteen hours.

Unluckily for you, your roommate Topper had different plans. The second you had entered the apartment, you had been assaulted by the bright light of the hallway and the sight of Topper cheerfully greeting you, grabbing you by the hand to lead you into the living room where Rapunzel was queued up on the large tv, and two cartons of ben and jerry’s sat on the coffee table. Your frown lessened when you realized one was your favourite flavour. You looked up at him questioningly, exhaustion and surprise causing your left eye to water a little.

“What’s all this?” you asked softly.

“I noticed you usually put on a disney movie when you’re stressed, and I picked up ben and jerry’s from the store earlier,” he told you, “I figured you would need it after today.”

“No one has ever paid that much attention to me,” you admit quietly. It’s true, you’ve never really had a strong friend group. You had friends, sure, but you were never the centre of a friend group. You existed on the fringes of most friendship circles, never truly finding yourself belonging to any. Even the people you had grown up with hadn’t really considered you ‘one of them’. That was how you had ended up befriending Topper in the first place and then moving in together when you both got accepted to Duke.

You had been at a boneyard party, offhandedly invited by Kiara who you would consider a friend, but you weren’t really close. It was like that with all the pogues, y’all were friendly but it’s not like you were crashing on John B’s couch or anything.

Topper had seen you looking melancholy, sitting at the edge of the party, red solo cup in hand and decided to talk to you. At first, you had been wary. Despite not being one of the group, you were still a pogue and keenly aware of the disdain most kooks had for your kind. He had quickly proved you wrong, kind and caring and always striking up a conversation when you were left alone at parties. The casual conversations at parties turned into hanging out beyond the boneyard and a real friendship flourished.

When you and Topper had both gotten into Duke, it was a quick and easy decision to move into the apartment his parents were paying for. They liked you well enough, for a pogue, and only charged you half of what market rent would be.

“Are you still deep in your head, or can we watch the movie?” Topper teased you, sitting on the loveseat and motioning for you to join him. You rolled your eyes and sat beside him, leaning on his body heat slightly and let the exhaustion take over as you slouched your shoulders. You reached for your ice cream and mumbled a thanks, causing Topper to grin.

Tangled was one of your favourites, low key you thought Flynn Ryder was cute and the lanterns always made your heart happy. You played with the ends of your hair as you happily watched and sang along quietly when you felt eyes on you. Turning to Topper, he was staring at you, his intense gaze causing your heart to stutter in your chest.

“What?” You asked self-consciously, pulling your legs up to wrap your arms around them. He didn’t answer you right away, eyes searching yours for what, you didn’t know. “You can tell me anything, Top, you know that.”

“I’m think I’m falling in love with you,” he admits after a beat. Your mouth falls open in shock, and Topper mistakes your reaction for rejection, starting to pull away from you. Unable to think of any other way to show him how you feel, you throw a leg over his lap to straddle him and pull his lips to yours. Pulling back to breathe, you rest your forehead against his and mumble against his lips, “I think I am too.”

come join my 500 follower blurb night!

#anyway im soft for topper again #topper obx #topper x you #topper x reader #topper x y/n #topper thornton x you #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x y/n #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton fanfiction #topper thornton blurb #diverdcwn writes #diverdcwn blurbs #sguymon21 #diverdcwn 500 blurb night

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pompedia-archive · 4 years

Text

Good morning / afternoon / evening wherever y’all are!

I’m currently running on about... 4 hours sleep give or take, but I feel fully energised! And my mood is all the way up there, too, which is always good!

As of today’s lil’ thing,,,

UPDATES !!

Under ❛keep reading❜ as it’s super long oop! BUT PLEASE TAKE A LOOK, I’LL BE QUEUING THIS UP!

• FIRST OF ALL!

As of right now, I’ll be going through my asks and deleting the ones I probably won’t be answering. This is so I don’t feel as pressured, and then I can get more memes out that I can actually keep up with!

So if your ask doesn’t get replied to? Don’t worry! We’re gonna make things fun and bouncy around here.

I just want to make it so I can interact with all of you instead of hoarding all these asks!

• SECONDLY!

Trust me when I say I don’t mean this toward absolutely anyone in a mean way, because I don’t! But... If you’re NOT interested in writing with my blog, please SOFT BLOCK it so it also unfollows me from you as well as for you to unfollow. It just makes it easier than keeping a blog that you have no intention on writing with, right?

And I promise, this is totally fine! If you do have intentions on writing with me, then fantastic! I can’t wait to write with you. ♥

• THIRD

Yesterday, I added a new section to me CURRENT ACTIVE MUSE LIST page. This little section / filter is the ❛TODAY❜ filter. If you click it, it’ll show you all the muses I’m actually really feeling today! Some of them may change, but some of them won’t, too, as they’re always very constant!

In relation to this, my MUSE INTEREST CHECK SHEETS. I KNOW I push this a lot, but it’s important! These sheets really help me know what muses of mine you’re interested in! It’s so if I send asks, or do starters for you, I know which muses interest you the most, and so I don’t send you one that you don’t want!

• FOURTH

I want to work on friendships with people !! I know my blog and me can seem super duper scary, and trust me, I get that. But you don’t gotta be scared of me. I just wanna be your friend. ♥

Yes, me and my muses are all total dorks that just wanna love the living heck out of you. That’s not a bad thing! ❛ But you have so many muses, how can I pick just one? ❜ Sure, for asks, this question is a spooky one. But you can list to me as many muses as you like that interest you, and we can go from there, working down your list together! We don’t just have to have ONE thing going on at a time. We can have as many as you like going on!

But I want to make sure you’re totally okay and comfortable around me, this blog and it’s muses. So if you want to talk, vent, plot — I’m here for you! I’m looking forward to all the new friendships I’ll make with all of you. If you’re shy, and I KNOW a lot of you are ( which is totally fine ), if you can prompt me in someway to get in touch with you to write or just talk at some point, that’d be amazing! I don’t want to pressure people — that is the LAST thing I want to do. I love a l l of you and the last thing I want to do is make you feel uncomfortable! ♥

Truth be told, a lot of you really scare me, but not in a bad way! I’m really nervous to approach some people as I feel like I’m not good enough, but I’m going to change that! I want to push myself to be BETTER, regardless if any of you super cool people give me the spooks. I want to work on that, with all of you. ♥

I want to talk to people more so I can can better my emotional and mental state, cause as some of you know, it’s really not been its best over the years, and that’s due to my heart holding onto a lot of negative energy that people ( IRL people and Facebook RP people ) have left me with and made me feel. But with these updates — I think that these changes will totally work! ♥

————————————————

And that’s about it! ;v; I know it’s long winded and definitely a LOT to read but... For me, this is a step in the right direction. ♥

#𝑫𝒊𝒔𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝑭𝒊 ➜ ❰ Out of Character ❱#𝑴𝒚 𝑩𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑴𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔! ➜ ❰ Long Post ❱#𝑨𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑻𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔! ➜ ❰ Updates ❱#𝑨 𝑴𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒈𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒚 ➜ ❰ PSA ¦ Pom’s Special Announcement ❱#SUPER DUPER IMPORTANT;

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ragingwave · 4 years

Text

i’m not the VERY BEST with words, but i’ve just been thinking all day and I hope it’s okay for me to share why that 2019 meme has been overwhelmingly meaningful to me

To preface everything before I start, I really don’t like getting too personal on my roleplay blogs. This is an escape space and I don’t want to hinder that for myself or anyone else. I’ve been back and forth all day if this post is even necessary and if I should just move on.... but I eventually did decide that making it is something staple for me, in the year’s road to recovery i’ve been on and it’ll be something i’d like my future self to look back on someday. So i’m sorry in advance if this off puts anyone!

In late 2018 I lost my mother suddenly. It was a huge blow for me being raised in a single parent family. One day she was here perfectly fine and the next day it was just me. Trying to face that reality, having to try to grow up overnight— I didn’t really take to that well. This time last year, I was counting down the days until I took my own life. Everything was so calculated and specific from the date and how...I’d never been that close to going through with that before and it was scary... But I really thought I couldn’t make it without my mom. I didn’t think I knew how anyways.

So getting past that, rolling into 2019 I promised to myself i’d make this year something to remember. Yes, my mom passed, but I didn’t want to crutch on that. I didn’t want it to define my life now. I’d try new things and go on adventures i’d be afraid of. One of those things ended up being trying to give independent roleplaying a shot again. Legit every experience i’ve had trying to make blogs in fandoms past have either gone awfully or just fell through on me. Making Nessa in June was really my make or break on roleplaying on Tumblr at all.

Reading everyone’s messages last night (WHICH i’ve queued to post over night because I don’t want to spam the dash too much ;;) was really...I can’t express it honestly? I really want to and I wish I could, but just my primary thought reading each of them, even if we’ve hardly talked is, I can’t believe I wouldn’t have met this person had I taken myself away. Nearly a year ago I almost tried to take my life. I never thought I would find a place in a community. I never thought i’d be able to live again, to write again, to love again, to be myself, to do something I love and make so many friends. I genuinely thought I would never smile and laugh and have fun again, but that’s all I do each day I log onto this account. This year has given me so many days of laughter and glee and a handful of them come from just sitting here at my screen on this account. Just reading everyone’s messages struck me in the biggest way that hey girl you’re really standing here in this sad timeline where i’m without my mom but i’m surrounded by more people than ever before.

And i’ve got this personality where I enjoy giving and showing love more than I know I need to in all things. It’s just how i’ve always been and I never ask nor expect to give or receive as much love in return. But with that meme I got so much love of it, so many heartfelt words and deep expressions that was beyond what I expected from a silly time passer internet meme. I crashed to sleep last night because I didn’t know how to handle it. I woke up this morning and didn’t know how to handle it still. I’ve been laying low all day because I don’t know how to handle it without saying something or having something here for the people who just took out the time to say something know how much doing that impacted me. I’ve just read all these messages over and over again today cause I just remember where I was a year ago and how unreal all of it feels.

But it is real and there’s absolutely no way I can tell everyone thank you in any fathomable way than just letting my emotion bleed out on the internet because that’s just how it be in this gen of life. It feels like i’ve come full circle in a chapter of my life that I started drowned in helplessness and despair. I swore to myself that i’d make 2019 a year of memories, where i’d grow and rediscover myself despite being on a path dabbled in grief. I’m so glad that I found many of you. I’m so happy that I stayed to be able to welcome new people into my life and touch others. I’m just happy y’all. I feel like i’m going to walk into 2020 with my head so high. I wish I could better express how freeing it is to say that.

ANYWAYS, THAT’S the end of my sappy on main post of the evening. If you’ve read this far, you’re a trooper and I appreciate you hanging tight! I just wanted to get this out there and off my chest for a blog that’s become a staple of my “rebirth”. ;v; ♥ I’ll go back to ya regularly scheduled dose of Nessa probably tomorrow again. But I just wanted to say i’m so happy to be here with you.

#suicide mention #death mention #🌊 | porta vista ( ooc )#//long read pls forgive mobile users asdfsfsafs #//i'm sorry IN ADVANCE for this post but i'm just??? feeling too much i gotta outlet #//i'ma abuse that one fact 'its my blog and i post what i want!!!!' just this once ;eyes emoji;

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neicywrts · 4 years

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Sis. Who tf else would I be here for?? [ dream ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare [ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger [ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine || reverse any you want btw

@iraclemayrps

otp: in real life

[ dream ] for your muse to wake mine from a nightmare | reverse

For the past couple of days, she’d been having the same dream. Ryan knew before getting pregnant that sometimes the hormones could cause…vivid dreams. She thought that maybe she would be an exception, since she had a rather smooth first and second trimester. But the third trimester of her pregnancy tested her strength.

It started out the same every time.

She was in a labor and delivery room at the hospital because her water broke in the middle of the night. Her husband was next to her, holding her hand and smiling. Her parents were on the other side, smiling and being surprisingly supportive. She was only dilated four inches but the nurses said everything looked great. But Ryan felt like something was off. She couldn’t feel her child. Throughout her pregnancy she could tell when her child was up, when she was asleep, and when she was restless. Overall, she could tell her baby was going to be active. She felt Zaina grow inside of her for nine months like a constant weight. But sitting in that delivery room, she felt…empty. Over and over again she told the nurses and doctors that something was wrong, but they didn’t listen to her, saying that everything was fine. She tried to calm down. Maybe she was overacting. Maybe her nerves were getting the best of her. Taking a deep breath, she decided to take her doctor’s advice and drifted off to sleep.

Gasping awake, she grabbed her side, where a sharp pain was spreading up her spine. That’s when she felt it. A warm liquid between her legs. Ryan ripped the white knit blanket off her legs. The large pool of blood beneath her was all the confirmation she needed.

The scream she let out in her dream was the same scream that woke her from it. In her bed, not in labor and delivery. Sweaty and heart racing, she patted her swollen stomach. “Hey,” Tariq sat up, his dark hair messy and his voice heavy with sleep. She turned to her husband with tears in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. It wasn’t the first time she woke up screaming. “You had that dream again?” He asked, and she nodded. “Its okay. She’s okay,” he put his hand on her swollen stomach. Shakily, she lifted her hand and put it next to his. Ryan let out a deep breath when she felt her baby move, a small smile pulling at her lips. Maybe her scream woke her daughter up as well. “I don’t know why I keep having that dream. Maybe because it’s so close to the time.” Tariq’s hand rubbing small circles on her back further soothed her. He kissed the side of her head before getting up from the bed. “I’ma get you some ice cream,” because he always knew what she needed. Ryan smiled and laid back down, her hand caressing her stomach.

[ guard ] or your muse to step between my muse and “danger”

The trader joe’s on gold street was hell on earth, but the only place in the city where she could get dark chocolate orange sticks and crunchy broccoli bites. Being pregnant made the five o’clock crowd even more irritable. Tariq could sense it. He put his hand on her lower back while she pushed the cart—only because she insisted—through the aisle to get to one of the ridiculously long lines. Before her third trimester, she was okay with standing in long lines like these. She even prepared for it; queuing up her favorite podcast, or finding something interesting to read on her phone while she waited. But with her ankles on swole, her breast heavy and sore, and having to pee almost every five minutes, she did not have the patience.

Ryan was turned around and facing Tariq, while his back was towards the crowd of shoppers. He didn’t notice the lady moving way too fast with her shopping cart and looking down at her phone, coming straight for him, but Ryan did. Stepping around him, she nudged the shopping cart out of the way before it could hit him. “Excuse you, get off your phone. You could hit someone,” Ryan snapped when the lady looked up at her. The lady’s eyes bulged, probably not used to being spoken to like that. “Woah, sorry, but it’s not that big of a deal,” the lady responded, looking genuinely confused. Ryan’s bitch switch flipped. “Not that big of a deal? You almost ran my husband over with your basket because you ain’t payin’ attention!” Said husband was trying to put himself in between Ryan and the lady, probably sensing his wife’s temper, but Ryan stepped around him again. The lady screwed her face up, “you need to calm down.” Perhaps she didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to tell a pregnant woman to calm down, but she was about to find out why you shouldn’t. “Oh no, I don’t need to do shit, but you need to—”

“Okayyy, baby stop,” Tariq had managed to pull her back in front of him and away from the lady who was five seconds away from meeting the back of Ryan’s hand. She didn’t even realize that she had began walking towards the lady once she told her to calm down. Knowing what was good for her, the lady rolled her eyes and walked off with her cart. Ryan eyed her until she couldn’t see her anymore. “As sexy as I find you getting all H-Town Hottie on somebody over me, you can’t fight while you’re pregnant,” he said, still holding her arm but looking like he wanted to laugh. Ryan’s lips pulled into a small smile, rolling her eyes at her husband. “I wasn’t gonna fight her…I was just gonna smack her.”

[ sing ] for your muse to sing to mine

Whenever she visited her hometown of Houston, Texas, she always tried to link up with her favorite five cousins. Ryan is an only child, but her Aunt Jacklyn had three daughters and two sons back to back, and they grew up thick as thieves. They endured church choir, Sunday school, Wednesday bible study, and every other family outing together while also going to the same schools k-12. The hardest part about moving clean across the country when she got engaged to James was leaving them. They were the only ones who were absolutely supportive of her relationship with Tariq, and the only family she actually enjoyed being around for a long period of time. They welcomed Tariq with open arms, and even invited him to their tradition of karaoke at Kibby’s on Saturdays. Ryan hadn’t been in ages and couldn’t believe that her cousins still went to the bar they had been going to since she was young. It was impossible for her to say no, even if she knew she would end up embarrassing herself in front of her husband and other friends. He teased her on the car ride to the bar, and she laughed and rolled her eyes at him. “I’m not singing tonight, so you’re not even gonna get the chance to record me, you jerk.”

Not many people knew Ryan had a secret love for 90s r&b, another thing she and her husband had in common. Anita Baker, En Vogue, After 7 and Toni Braxton (and of course Adina Howard’s Do You Wanna Ride but that’s not the vibe right now) were a few of her favorite secular artist that she had to sneak and listen to while she was growing up. Her parents didn’t keep that type of music in their house, but her Aunt Jacklyn did. Whenever Ryan went to her house, and she and her cousins were left alone, they would sneak into her CD stash. They even choreographed dance routines to almost every song on En Vogue’s Funky Divas album.

After a few tequila sunrises that were definitely missing the sunrise, her cousins Mary, Lynette, and Keisha bullied her into doing a song with them. “No, no, y’all, I’m not doing it!” she protested. “Like hell you not. It’s been years, Ry, c’mon,” Keisha said. They pulled her up and out of her seat anyway, dragging her to the makeshift stage at the front of the bar. Ryan looked back at her husband, who was grinning and cheering along with the crowd. She shook her head, but smiled. “What song are we even doing?” Her question was answered when she heard the first few notes of Giving Him Something He Can Feel. Their favorite song, and one of the few songs she used to sing lead on when they were making up dances. Ryan threw her head back and laughed. “Y’all, I don’t remember the steps,” she said while simultaneously getting into formation.

What happened after that, she blames on the liquor. Although she complained about knowing the steps, they sure did come to her pretty quick. She and her cousins had the whole bar carrying on, but her eyes were trained on Tariq the whole time, a sultry smile playing on her lips. At one point, she broke off from the group. Sauntering over, she stopped in front of him, one hand feeling down her body while she slowly twirled her hips in a circle. That really got the party going, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the look on her husband’s face. They finished their routine with a standing ovation. Ryan sat back down next to her husband, red in the face and hot. “That’s the first and last time you see that routine,” she laughed.

#otp: in real life #lololol #now i wouldn't be me if i aint get a lil extra #answered #iraclemayrps

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lady-rhaesnow · 2 years

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Beauty and the babe 😍

#Upstead #hailey upton #truckstead #this pic has both of Jay’s loves #jay halstead #chicago pd #one chicago #jay x hailey #babe and the beast #Hailey is both his babe and beauty #but let’s not be fooled that truck is a close second #queued cause I’m sleeping y’all

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dregstrash · 5 years

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hey, are you still doing this song+ ship thing, if so, might I suggest Dixie boy by April Smith with Zoyalai (I think it could be fun ;))

I very sincerely hope that I’m not bothering anyone by posting so often lol. But I can’t help it cause y’all have given me such great songs to write to, and everyone has been so supportive I honestly cannot stop.

Among the other aus that I have come to claim my own, I also have a Zoyalai Rock au inspired by @kestrel-of-herran‘s Rock playlist she made a couple of weeks ago. So this drabble is based off of that because while I was listening to it, all I can see is the Triumvrate + Zoyalai doing karaoke

[this fic also roasts some artists, and if you like them i mean no offense, just trying to stay in character] [this is also hella long]

I’m just warning you ahead of time

The Stormwitches have this tradition that predates the start of their band.

It had all started when Genya was still pining after David. And Zoya couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to get her friend out of her ice cream induced pity party, because while those things had their use, she drew the line at three days.

So she did something unprecedented and took her to a karaoke bar. It was just the two of them, half-yelling, half-singing to songs they’d never admit to liking and just letting their laughter fill the night.

Next time they went was when Zoya had failed her first college exam. The next time after that was when Tamar had just transferred to their college.

And they kept coming on those good days and the bad days.

It was just something they did.

Even with the huge amount of success that came with being a band. Even when their group became a little bigger when David finally admitted to his feelings for Genya, when Tamar started dating Nadia, when she invited her brother Tolya, and when Zoya allowed Nikolai to meet her bandmates. They all went to karaoke bars, making sure no one recognized them, or cared that they were there.

“Okay, here it is,” Genya said over the pounding music being sung by some country star wannabe, “I will sing one Carrie Underwood song if Tamar can manage to give us a little Taylor Swift.”

“I’d rather never drum again, if I have to sing that acoustic nonsense.” She said.

“You could just sing something off Reputation,” Nadia supplied, “You know New Taylor and all that.��

Tamar glared at her, “Whose side on you on?”

Nadia smiled, “I’m on the side that doesn’t have to listen to you mope around with another old Sleeping with Sirens song.”

She scowled back, and didn’t budge, “I’m not doing it unless our dear lead bassist gets up there and gives a little bit of her Amy Winehouse.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, “I really regret even doing that song for you.”

“When have you ever done something for someone else, Nazyalensky?” Nikolai grinned from her side, “You sure you weren’t just trying to show off?”

“Says the king of big-headedness themselves.”

“Can’t be arrogant over what’s true.” Nikolai said in a sing-song.

“I’d like to see you get up there, Lantsov.” Zoya snapped, “Give us a little bit of those Chainsmokers that I know you so love.”

She was rewarded with an eye roll. He had always advocated that he was a fan of any and all music, but when that particular duo had started rising to the top. He had claimed that the world had no need for two white guys that could barely sing and had basic beats. When Zoya had pointed out that Nikolai was, himself, a white man, he just shrugged and said “At least I can carry a tune.”

To that she had nothing to say. Because she sure as hell wasn’t going to agree with him.

“I invoke a challenge then.” He sighed getting up. Everyone at their table suddenly straightened, and eyed each other. Karaoke challenges was a serious business. Failure to complete them meant they get the crappy bed in their tour bus. “I’ll sing a stupid Chainsmoker song, and Zoya has to sing anything except classic rock or pop songs.”

Not for the first time, Zoya wished her glare could have the power to kill. “You’re going to pay for this Nikolai.”

He had already started to walk away and smirk over his shoulder, “Is that a promise?”

Nikolai got up on that tiny karaoke stage, and queued up his choice. When the opening notes to “Closer” came on, Zoya fought the sliver of a shiver go through her. While Nikolai complained about the Chainsmokers, Zoya didn’t mind them that much. At least not this song, and he knew that. He did it on purpose, and she wasn’t sure if she hated him or loved him for it.

She decided to hate it when he started to sway his hips off the stage and towards their table. He was overdoing it by a lot, but he wasn’t fazed. Their friends laughed and sang along, but Zoya could only stare. Then tried not to stare. Then found herself staring again. She couldn’t focus on one thing as the song blasted around them. Her eyes went to his then on his cheekbones then on his lips, stayed on his lips then back to his eyes. He was standing in front of her now, and she realized that he was doing it on purpose. He was purposefully keeping all her attention on him. That bastard.

The song ended, and Zoya noticed that the crowd seemed to be cheering louder than they had for anyone. She just sighed at that. If this led to Nikolai being more insufferable than usual, she could just knock him back a few anyway.

He quickly bowed, and gestured out an arm and a smirk to Zoya.

She sniffed and just threw her shoulders back. Two can play at his game, and she was significantly better at it.

Zoya told her song choice to the man controlling the words and took her place on the stage. She held the mic in her hand, and felt the regular rush of adrenaline flow through her. She could be anything on a stage. She was a lead bassist. She was a rock singer. She was a queen of the night. And Nikolai picked the wrong challenge.

The song started. It wasn’t a song that would have been on the radio. It was all punk tones with that soul sound that talked about being a powerful woman. And just like Nikolai did with her, Zoya stalked toward their table, ignoring the friends that were raising their eyebrows at her slow deliberate steps and the predatory glances of the other people of the bar. She kept her eyes on Nikolai and noted every small gesture when she inched closer, and sang to him.

She caught the widening of his beautiful hazel eyes, and the small bob of his throat she she swallowed. The song was almost over, and as her last act of defiance she rested her hand behind his head to rest on the back of his chair. Essentially trapping him in her voice and her arms. There was no denying what the hunger that rested in the darkening of his eyes. When she stepped back, barely registered the roaring of the crowd, she bowed and gave him a smirk as she returned her mic.

#zoyalai #zoyalai rock au #zoya nazyalensky #nikolai lantsov #nikolai x zoya #triumvirate #genya safin

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jimlingss · 5 years

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jungle park twice a week actually sounds lit

hahah ok im glad that sounds like something people would actually like.

Anonymous said: You know what? Take your time like you can leave for 3 whole months and I would still wait so don’t worry, don’t rush it , take your time

:3 this is sweet too. y’all are awesome.

Anonymous said: hey, i just want u to know that im so grateful to you and ur writing. u’re always updating on time and sticking to a schedule. and its okay to feel like you cant do it anymore, this is something that you’re doing for fun and something u should enjoy, we should all enjoy it together. so if youre tired and want to take a break, we’re all going to support you! this shouldnt feel like a burden and honestly if u have more imp engagements, focus on that instead. love u so much!!!

Thank you for this. Honestly I really do love writing but I appreciate people appreciating my efforts cause really…it isn’t easy. If there’s anything writing has taught me is that EVERYTHING in life will be work. Dying is a lot of work. Sleeping is a lot of work. Breathing is a lot of work. Even if you like something, it’s still a lot of work. Don’t worry, I very move love writing. It’s not a burden on most days hhaha but thank you for this. it’s very encouraging.

Anonymous said: I don’t really know how tumblr works since I’m new to it but I’ve seen other writers queue up posts so maybe u can do that if u feel too overwhelmed by everything? but also idk how queueing stuff works so maybe u can’t 😭

yeah queuing is an option, only problem is I can’t really update any of my links or queue it again (ie. i can only post it once, usually i like to queue it three times again in case people missed it) and I can’t really answer messages right away and letting it accumulate lol I’d rather not.

#Jimlings #thanks for these guys #y'all are so nice to me #Anonymous

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aerynwrites · 6 years

Text

The Crosswalk

Connor/RK800 x Reader

This was requested by @shadows-echoes

Request: “First of all, congrats on the 400!! Secondly, your prompt list is a lot of fun and it's hard to pick just one. Can I suggest either #22 (that angst tho) or #6 with Connor? You can pick whichever one you prefer🤗”

Prompt(s): #6: “Really? Pinning me against a wall? You couldn’t think of anything more creative?” #22: “When is she coming home?” “She isn’t.”

Warnings: Death, Swearing, Angst

Author’s Note: Y’ALL. THERE IS SO MUCH ANGST. Not gonna lie, I got a little choked up writing this one....so yeah, that’s all i’m going to say about that. Also, there will probably only be one fic uploaded tomorrow because i have to work all day, but if I can get another one done tonight and queued up then we should be good. As always i hope you enjoy, and please if you did, leave a comment! I love reading what you guys think!

----------------------------------------------

You and Connor had just finished dinner and were now sitting on the couch watching an older film on TV. You scooted over to lean more into your boyfriend, but he counteracted your movement by inching away from you. You huffed and sat up slightly in your seat, aggravated at the android sitting next to you. This is the millionth time he has shied away from your touch. Ever since you two started dating he refuses to show any physical affection towards you. You tried to blow it off as he just didn’t know how to show affection, but it’s been several months since you started dating and it was starting to take a toll on you. You kept telling yourself that a relationship doesn’t need physical contact to work, but…you basically craved it at this point. You loved Connor, and even though he’s told you that he loves you as well, he isn’t showing it.

You glance out of the corner of your eye and see that Connor is in the same position as a few moments a go, relaxed back into the couch and hands resting on his legs. You slowly reach over and try to intertwine your fingers with his, but he pulls away refusing to look at you. You sigh exasperated and stand up, frustration fueling your movements.

“Why won’t you touch me?” you ask honestly.

Connor brings his attention from the screen to look at you confusion on his face, “I don’t know what you mean.” He states.

You throw your hands up in the air, “Don’t give me that bullshit Connor. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” You accuse, “you never let me hold your hand, or cuddle with you, the one time we kissed I could tell it was forced,” you run a hand through your hair, “I just don’t understand.”

Connor looks up at you, “Why does it matter if I’m physically affectionate with you?” he wonders.

You felt a small surge of anger well up inside you, “Why does it matter? Because, Connor, that’s what normal people do in a relationship! They hold hands and kiss and hold each other when the sleep!” you cry, distraught, “I feel like you don’t even love me.” You admit.

Connor stands at this point and looks at you anger now evident on his face as well, “You know that’s not true I do love you, I – I just don’t show it they way you want me too.” He argues.

You roll your eyes and turn on your heel grabbing your cellphone and slipping your shoes on, “Whatever, I’m going to get some air.” You grumble.

You twist the doorknob ready to leave but two hands spin you around and push you into the wall slightly. You look up and are met with two amber eyes, swimming with emotions.

You laugh slightly at the situation, “Really? Pinning me against a wall? You couldn’t think of anything more creative?” Connor doesn’t laugh.

“No, I should be happy!” you exclaimed suddenly, shoving him away from you, “that’s the first time you actually touched me in like three months.” You say sarcastically.

You rip the door open and walk down the steps of your house, “Where are you going?” Connor yells.

You don’t look at him as you respond, “On a walk. I-I just need time to think!” you yelled over your shoulder.

Connor knew better than to follow you. Once you were set on something nothing would change your mind, he just needed to give you space. So, he decided to go to Hanks, he needed advice on what to do. He didn’t know that his avoidance of physical affection was taking such a toll on you. He never once thought that you doubted his love for you. You were Connor’s entire universe, and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

---------------------------------

“Of course, she’s angry.” Hank deadpanned, sipping on his beer casually.

Connor’s LED flashed yellow, he was not expecting that answer.

The android sighed, running a hand through his always perfect hair, “I just…Fuck, I didn’t know that I was making her upset by not doing those things.” He admitted. He felt like a fool.

Hank sighed and sat the glass bottle down with a thud, looking seriously at the android, “Look Connor, it’s not unfixable. You can make it up to her. Once she cools down tell her what you told me, you can always learn to like affection, and she may have to learn to live without it sometimes. But if you really love each other you’ll make it work.” The old Lieutenant stated.

Connor thought over his words for a moment and smiled. Hank was right, you both could work through this. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by the ringing of Hanks cell phone. The man grumbled as he answered the phone and pressed it to his ear.

“This better be good it’s my night off.” He growled into the phone.

Hank expression suddenly shifted from annoyed to concerned and…scared? Why would he be scared? Connors question went unanswered as Hank spoke, “Don’t you fucking move Chris. I’m on my way.” he commanded.

The Lieutenant quickly stood from his chair almost running to the front door grabbing his coat and slinging it on. Connor got up to follow him, but Hank pointed aggressively at the android.

“you stay right here. Do you here me? I’ll call you as soon as I have more information.”

Before the android could protest the door slammed shut and Hanks car peeled out of the driveway.

Connor switched between pacing the living room and petting Sumo who was sitting on the couch. He couldn’t stop wondering why his friend looked so spooked. What had happened? Almost on cue Connor received a call from the very man he was wondering about. He quickly pulled out his cell phone, the one you had convinced him to get instead of answering it through his head, and pressed answer.

“Hank what’s going on? Is everything okay?” he asked worriedly.

The line was silent for a moment before he heard Hanks voice, “It’s (y/n).” he stated plainly.

His vision was instantly bombarded by warning signals, his stress level was through the roof, he felt his chest tighten at Hanks words.

“Hank! Is she okay? What’s wrong?” he paused his panic momentarily, “When is she coming home?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

He heard Hank take in a breath to speak but he paused before finally choking out the one response Connor didn’t expect to hear, “She isn’t.” His friend informed, voice cracking, “A drunk driver blew a stop light as she was using the crosswalk….She was DOA.” There was another short pause as Connor felt his legs give out from underneath him, causing him to fall to the carpet of Hanks living room.

“I’m sorry kid. I’ll be home soon.” The line clicked, ending the call.

Connor dropped the device in his hand, his LED a solid red. You were dead? No, no! you couldn’t be dead! He still had so much to tell you…the last thing you two did was fight. Then the realization hit him.

You died thinking he didn’t love you.

The android screamed out in frustration and anger, tears pouring down his cheeks. He grasped desperately at the stained fabric of the carpet beneath him, as if the small fibers would somehow keep grounded. He felt the wet nose of Sumo nudge his cheek, but Connor ignored the large dog. Not even the soft saint Bernard could make him feel better. Nothing could.

Connor sunk further into the floor, curling in on himself. Nothing could sooth his aching heart, or the guilt that penetrated him down to his very core. It was his fault after all. If he had just shown you the effection you deserved, you wouldn’t have gotten into a fight. You wouldn’t have been on that crosswalk.

He didn’t even hear hank walk through the door, he was only aware of his presence when he felt two hands grasp his shoulders and pull him up so he was sitting on his knees. Hank only shook his head and pulled Connor into a tight hug.

“I know Connor…I’m so sorry.” He comforted, he couldn’t bring you back, but he could at least try to help the man he considered his son. Connor didn’t respond, he couldn’t, not with the thought that you were actually gone running through his mind.

He just hugged the old lieutenant back and continued to cry.

*DOA: Dead on Arrival.*

This is for my 400 Follower Celebration!

Tags: @moderndame

#detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #dbh x reader #dbh connor x reader #dbh connor #dbh hank

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joseph-the-daddy-seed · 6 years

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Furry Apologies: Jacob Seed x Reader

A/N: My very first Jacob Seed fic!! I really hope I was able to capture his character well. We never get to really see Jacob’s soft side unless you squint and even then that’s pushing it so this is kinda what I think that side of Jacob would be like. This fic was based off two requests I got; one wanted a puppy and the other wanted something cute. Pride may be a sin but I think I delivered lol. I really think you guys are gonna like this, it’s fluffy, it’s cute. and it’s even a little angsty. So, enjoy!!! (Was planning on queuing this up to come out Wednesday but I thought it was just too good to keep from you so Christmas comes early for y’all lol)

Summary: Yours and Jacob’s relationship isn’t as good as it could be, and he decides to make it up to you

Word Count: 2508

Yours and Jacob’s relationship was… well… complicated. You both loved one another sure, but that didn’t stop the plethora of things that went on between you.

He did his best to hide all of your problems from the rest of the church but his brothers knew everything and so did Faith.

It was no secret to the Seed Family that you two argued, a lot. A lot of the times it would be over something stupid and meaningless, like who was supposed to do this chore, what you were supposed to be eating for dinner, or anything small that you two even slightly disagreed on. Other times, your arguments were more serious. You argued about him never being home, you questioned each other’s love, and each other’s devotion to the church.

Each time you argued, screams would erupt, words and curses would fly, accusations would be thrown, and something in your home would always end up broken. Each time the argument was over, one of you would end up leaving for the night and either sleep in their car or at another Seed’s home.

But somehow, the next morning, you made up, apologised with and a kiss and pretend it never happened until a couple days later when the whole cycle repeated itself.

Admittedly, your relationship wasn’t the healthiest but neither of you could bear to part forever. It was an unspoken fact that both you needed each other. You needed Jacob to love you like no one else ever had and Jacob needed you to remind him that he wasn’t in Iraq anymore.

If you two broke up forever, all that you had from each other would be gone and that wasn’t a sacrifice either of you were willing to make. So, every three or so days you’d argue and put up with each other’s shit just for the sake of knowing you had someone.

One night, your argument got particularly heated…

You both stood in the kitchen, you leaning over the island counter and him halfway sitting on the counter behind it next to the sink, listening to you yell and trying not to explode again like Joseph had suggested earlier in the week.

“Well Jacob? Do you have anything to say?” you shout, heat rising to your face and practically steaming off the top of your head.

You were mad that Jacob had decided to up and leave for five days without even telling you. Not only that, but he didn’t bother to let you know or have anyone else tell you. You wouldn’t have even figured it out had you not been told by Faith who was concerned about your worried frantic state as you searched for him.

As you scream, Jacob looks down and bites his knuckle, knowing that if he looks at you he’ll lose all control and go just as ballistic as you.

His silence making you even angrier, you continue screaming, “Did you really think that I wouldn’t be worried about you if you just decided to go to your little training camp without telling me!? Jake, it’s dangerous out there right now, especially with that crazy Deputy running around. You need to tell me this stuff goddammit!”

He looks to the left, still not making eye contact with you and you grab a plate that had been left out by him a few hours ago. “You fucking bastard,” you chuck the plate at the cabinets that he just happened to be looking at and it shatters a feet or two left of his knees.

By now, he’s used to things being thrown at him by you so he doesn’t even flinch in the slightest but he does become even more furious. As your argument continues, it becomes harder and harder for him to keep his cool.

“You’re never home,” you keep shouting, your voice becoming hoarse. You’re sure that everyone within a mile can hear you but this has gone on long enough and you have had enough. “You’re never home, and when you are you want me to pretend that you’ve been here the whole time. You honestly expect me to love you like someone who is always there for me when you aren’t Jacob. You’re never there. Sometimes Jake, I feel like your little army is more important than me but yet you come home and tell me ‘nothing could ever be more important than me.’

“Well? Which one is it? Am I more important than your work or not?” By this time, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes and you were shaking with anger and hurt.

Jacob continues to stay silent but he is also shaking, two seconds away from bursting.

You point at him feebly, “Good Lord willing and the creek don’t rise Jacob if you don’t say something I swear I will-”

“WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY!?” he interrupts, finally making eye contact with you, his face so red that it almost matches his hair.

“Do you want me to say ‘sorry’ for doing Joseph’s work? You want me to say that what I’m doing isn’t important? You know damn well that I’m here for you and you also know that my work takes priority over everything. Even myself. I’m not gonna apologise for shit (Y/N). If you don’t like that, there’s the door,” he points behind you and you just shake your head.

“I can’t believe you expect me to just wait for you to come home whenever you feel like it. I need to know these things Jacob. I can’t be expected to just wait like a dog for its master to come home. If he comes home,” you finish, and push yourself off the counter and walking out of the room.

Jacob pushes himself off as well, stepping toward where you left and yells after, slightly afraid that you might be leaving again, and this time, for good. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

You don’t respond but he hears the door to your shared bedroom slam shut and the painting hanging on the wall in the hallway outside it fall.

He angrily shakes his head. Jacob then briskly walks into the foyer of your home, grabs his coat and leaves. On the floor above, you watch him through the window as he gets into his truck and drive away in a rush.

After the dust clears, he’s gone. You’ve never felt this empty after an argument before and the feeling, while not unfamiliar, drains you almost instantly. You immediately collapse on the bed into a puddle of your own tears. You look up at the clock and see the phone sitting next to it.

You debate calling Faith who had talked you through many an argument before but felt like it wouldn’t matter, what has happened has happened and you can’t take it back.

Arguments with Jacob never ended pretty but this time, you fear that it might be the last one. This time, you might just lose him for good.

Flipping over and laying back into yours and Jacob’s bed, you wipe your tears and look at the ceiling. Everything reminded you of him; the decorations, the clothes draped on the back the chair in front of the desk, and the smell. The room reeks of Jacob; musky, earthy, and warm.

You almost smile at the thought of him and all the beautiful memories you two had made in this room; all the times he held you close as he slept, all the times you kissed him and told him he was perfect, all the times you two hummed a song in unison in the dark.

The urge to smile quickly fades however when you are reminded that it might just all be gone in the morning. Suddenly, your cheeks are wet again and as you begin sobbing once more, your eyelids slowly close from your exhausting night.

***

The next morning, you are woken up by the sound of pounding on the door downstairs. As you open your eyes, the light shines into the room and on the bed. The room felt different but you didn’t have time to think about that as you were interrupted again by the banging.

You immediately know who it is without having to go to the window; Jacob. Who else could it possibly be? No one else you knew within two hundred miles ever knocked on a door that loud except the man you had been living with for almost a decade now.

Afraid of what is going to happen when you finally go answer the door, you jump to the window, covering as much of your face with the curtain as you can. You look down to see Jacob standing at the door, bouncing nervously, something he always did in situations he felt uncomfortable in.

He was nervous? you thought. Why? And what is he carrying? You look at the handled case in his strong hand. He’s gripping it so hard that his knuckles are white and he looks like he might crush it. He pounds the door again and you hear him scream “Open the door (Y/N)! We need to talk!”

That is not what you wanted to hear. He’s gonna break up with me. He’s gonna tell me to leave. He’s gonna get get Joseph to kick me out of the church. All these thoughts run through your head as you cautiously walk down the stairs, your hot tears pouring even harder down your face than last night.

When you make it to the door, you take a deep breath. This is it. The last moment I’ll spend as Jacob’s. You reach a shaky hand to the gold knob and turn it.

Jacob stands there on the welcome mat, biting his cheek nervously but when he sees you and the wreck that you’re in, he instantly becomes guilty, knowing full well that he’s the one who caused you to feel this way.

He knows that you just worry about him and he is appreciative that you care but sometimes his temper and his work gets in the way of his love for you. If what he’s about to do works, however, you’ll hopefully be able to forgive his sorry ass.

The two of you stand in silence for a moment, him too nervous and you too sad to speak. You go to wipe your eyes and the movement snaps Jacob out of his daze and he finally begins, “(Y/N),” his voice is surprisingly soft and kind, like how he talks to you when he’s holding you in bed, it catches you off guard and you all but jump.

“I’m sorry,” he continues, “I screwed up, like I always do. I didn’t let you know I was going to be gone and in the process, made you wish you were. I know what I did was wrong and I know that I’m not around as much as I used to be, but, I hope that I can make it up to you.”

He gently pushes past you into the house and closes the door. Jacob then carefully places the case in his hand on the ground and slowly opens the door on the front of it. Confused, you watch him but suddenly understand what is going on when a little baby dog runs out, the furry bundle of joy sitting on your toes and yipping up to you.

You pick him up and Jacob speaks again, “We found him and his brothers and sisters in the woods. I’m pretty sure he’s half german shepherd and half wolf,” he walks up next to you as you hold the puppy like a baby in your arms. Snaking an arm around your waist and looking over your shoulder at the dog, Jacob smiles, “I thought that maybe if I couldn’t always be home for you, this little guy could. He’ll be better to you than I’ve been.”

You look at him and instantly feel bad for making him hate himself like this, “Jake,”

He holds up a hand to stop you, “Sweetheart it’s fine. I know I’m not as good of a partner as I could be but I just want you to know that I love you,” he puts his knuckle under your chin and lifts your head so you’re forced to look at him better.

“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long long time,” he closes his eyes, thinking of all the terrors he went through before you walked into his life, but he opens them again and you notice they have become slightly glossy, “but I’d have never made it through these past years without you. You’re everything to me and I hate it when we argue. I just want it to stop baby. I want us to be happy again, like we were when when we first started living together. Tell me you remember that sweetheart.”

With tears threatening to spill you think back to those times. No yelling, no shouting, no secrets, just the two of you and your love. It hurt to think everything has come to this but you couldn’t agree with him more. You wanted it to stop just as much as him. “I do,” you say with a raspy breath, “and I want this to stop too. But I just get so scared that one day you won’t come home and I’ll be alone again. I love you and I need to know that you love me too. Enough to want to be here.”

Jacob sheds a single tear, not daring to shed another in fear of showing his feelings too much, “Of course I love you,” he moves his hand from under your chin to under your jaw, rubbing your cheek with his thumb, “I couldn’t do any of this without you. You mean so much to me and… and I know I’m not very good with words but… but (Y/N)-”

“Jake,” you stop him, “It’s alright. I get it. You’ve already said enough.” You smile into his eyes, the eyes you’ve come to love so much, and he leans in to kiss you. His lips are sweet, warm, and surprisingly soft. He kisses you like he hasn’t kissed you in years; with true passion.

The two of you could have stood there joined at the lips all day but the furry bundle in your arms yapped, pulling you away from the kiss. Jacob chuckles, “I think he’s hungry. I don’t think he’s eaten since last night,” he then looks back to you as you gently scratch behind the dog’s small ear, “Think about what you want to name him yet?”

You look up at him in horror, “You mean he doesn’t have a name?” Leaning into you, Jacob kisses your head and mumbles into your hair, “I thought I’d let you do the honor.”

You think for a moment, then it hits you, “Fort. It means ‘strong’ in French,” you look up at Jacob one last time, “because he’s gonna be strong just like his daddy.”

#jacob seed #jacob seed x reader #seed family #far cry 5 #fanfic #x reader #farcry5

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pherryt · 6 years

Note

I can’t help myself so I’m sending you yet another prompt: Dean lives with his brother Sam and his parents in a Christian conservative community . He wants to his last year of HS to go smoothly and the last thing he wants is to fall in love with a boy. Especially when the boy is his best friend Cas. After party he and Cas end up sleeping together but Cas distances himself from Dean and dates their friend Meg. I understand you’re busy but I don’t how long it take to complete this :)

Okay, I think this is actually gonna wind up as a multi-part story if anyone’s interested. (I’ve already got some thoughts on where i want this to go)

The first part has almost everything you wanted.Word Count: 2212

WARNING: Vaguely Not Safe For Work (near the end)

And of course, there is angst.

Dean hated it here. The only thing that made it bearable was hisbest friend, Cas. Together they made plan after plan over the years, of justhow to get out of there, refining it more and more the older they got.

Nowthey were in their senior year – almost old enough to strike out on their ownlegally, but neither Dean nor Cas held out much hope that they’d get outunscathed.

“Hair,Dean, hair!” Cas ranted one afternoon. He lay on his back with his feet proppedagainst the wall of their old treehouse. It was really too small for them, butthey squeezed in anyway, the only privacy they could find and trust these days.“How does hair lead to sin? So what if I want to grow it?Or…or…turn it blue? How does that lead me to hell? Is it really comparable tobeing a murderer? Seriously?”

Deannodded absently. Cas was really preaching to the choir. Literally. Dean hadbeen volunteered as a child to sing every Sunday in church. When he wassmall, he’d been proud to do it, happy that he could do something that made hismom so happy. Now Mary was gone, and no one would tell him what had happened toher and if he wanted to leave the church choir, he would risk the wrath of JohnWinchester falling upon his head.

Itwas better to let it go and not cause ripples or any type of suspicion to fallon him. Not when they were so close. Not when John already looked at him indisappointment, though for what, Dean had no idea (he suspected though, but hewouldn’t admit it to himself so he refused to think of it).

“Dadtold Sammy not to associate with Max or Alicia yesterday.”

“You’renext door neighbors? Why not? They’re some of the nicest kids around!” Casdropped his feet and twisted to sit upright, crossing his feet elegantlybeneath him.

Deantried not to watch, knowing he would only wind up staring at how fluidly hisbest friend moved. He cleared his throat and averted his eyes, ignoring thebutterflies in his stomach.

Hecouldn’t afford to let the butterflies have their way.

Forone, he had no idea how Cas would react if Dean acted upon them. The communityin which they lived was so religiously conservative, there was no way to get aread on who – if anyone – would be accepting of such thoughts. And if Caswasn’t okay with it, he’d lose his best friend. And for another thing, theywere just so close to getting out, that even if Caswas okay with the things Dean tried not to feel for him, they couldn’t risk theplan.

Deanwas counting on getting the Impala as his graduation present. Once it was his,free and clear…he’d pack up Cas and their meager savings and book it out oftheir so fast, their parents wouldn’t know what hit them.

Heonly felt guilty he couldn’t take Sam with them.

“Uh…becauseMax is giving Sam ‘ideas’. He told Sammy about…” Dean couldn’t help but lookaround and lower his voice, “Same sexcouples. Not only that, but people who changed their genders or, or, hadrelationships with 2 or more people at the same time!” Casleaned in as Dean’s voice dropped even further.

“Wow…”Cas breathed. “People who just…change their genders?” His eyes grew wide. “Howis that even possible?”

“Ihave no idea, man! It’s crazy, right?”

“Isee why your dad freaked. You know how Pastor Zachariah says we’re all supposedto ‘be happy with the way god made us’.”

“PastorZachariah creeps me out,” Dean shuddered.

“Metoo,” Cas agreed.

Theyfroze as they both heard a noise below them and their eyes darted franticallyover to the ladder, then the window. Dean edged towards the ladder while Casshifted just enough to crane his head and look out the little window.

Theywaited a few, long minutes, afraid to talk, afraid to even breathe, but theyheard nothing more and they didn’t see anything or anybody either. Finally,with a nod and a sense of relief, the two of them went back to talking.

“So,I heard Balthazar was throwing a party tomorrow night. Apparently, UncleZach’s gonna be outta town, so, he’s got run of the house. Wanna go?” Deanasked.

“Sure,as long as the pastor isn’t going to be there. You know how Balthazar’s is. Hetoes the line between what’s allowed and…how he hasn’t gotten into trouble yet,I don’t even know.” Cas shifted, keeping his eye on the window but lettinghimself get more comfortable.

Deanshrugged. “Must pay to be family to the Pastor. Means your above suspicion. Orif the rest of the town suspects, they’re afraid to tattle. He’s got a nastytemper. You should have seen how he ripped into Kevin last week because he camein too early. Kid was bawling…”

“Nothanks. So, what’s Balthazar’s cover story?” Cas asked.

“Hmm…Ithink it was an all-night prayer meeting.” Everyone knew it wasn’t, except forthe adults, somehow. It couldn’t possibly last but Cas and Dean and so many ofthe other kids needed some sort of relief valve from the pressures of theirparents and their community.

“Meaning,we can crash there?”

“Yup,”Dean nodded with a grin.

Casgrinned back. “I’ll pack my sleeping bag.”

Aspredicted, neither Cas’s parents, nor Dean’s dad had any problem with the twoof them running off to Balthazar’s ‘prayer meeting’. With barely containedexcitement, Dean drove to Cas’s house to pick him up in the Impala and then thetwo of them drove across town to the more secluded estate of the Pastor.Balthazar was an orphan, and his uncle had taken him in to be raised alongsidehis own children. But tonight, it was only going to be housing Balthazar andthe few people he’d trusted to invite to the type of party he’d been planning.

Notthat Cas or Dean knew exactly what Balthazar was planning, butanything had to be better than being under the constant scrutiny of the wholetown.

Theyweren’t wrong.

Themusic was loud, when they arrived, and the beat was so different than anythingDean had ever heard before. It made his body sing and want to move. The thingschurch music was supposed to make him want to do. By the way Cas seemed tovibrate beside him, his best friend was feeling it too.

Theparty – for all its noise – was small, as Balthazar had promised. The three ofthem, Ash and Victor, Benny, Garth, Jesse and Gabriel, made up the entireparty. 9 people all in all, and all of them boys because girls would never havebeen allowed to go to a house full of teenage boys with no adult supervision.What if they mingled and they fell to temptation?

Dean nearly snorted at that because he wasn’t even interested in– nope. Not going there.

“So, what’s the plan?” Dean asked, trying to force his brain tofocus on something other than Cas, his blue eyes, his lips, his smile, hislaugh, his everything. It wasn’tworking. It was getting harder and harder for Dean to not think about Cas, about his best friend. About how he wanted toshare everything with him.

Balthazar held up a bottle proudly. “I raided Uncle Zach’s stashfor some alcohol, and Gabriel snuck over some porn and we’ve got some killertunes on. What do y’all want to do first?”

“I hate to be the one to point it out, but that’s a ginger alebottle, Bathy.” Ash spoke up and the others breathed out in relief. They’d allbeen thinking it.

“Exactly!” Balthazar pointed at Ash and grinned. “Uncle Zach won’tmiss it because he thinks I broke and spilled it. I have no idea what it is,but it’s as close in color to the ginger ale I could get so he wouldn’t get suspicious.”

“Clever,” Victor noted. The rest agreed.

“Great! Then I’ll be your bartender tonight. Gabriel! Get the pornready! We’re gonna party in style!” Balthazar shouted, racing back for thekitchen.

The rest of the boys laughed, Dean and Cas exchanging bemusedlooks. Dean, at least, was a little nervous. Just one of the things at this party could get them all in serioustrouble, let alone all of these things combined. He wasn’t even sure howinterested he was in the porn. Well, no, that wasn’t true. He was interested, but he was sure itwouldn’t be the right kind.

Would it?

And if it were, he could already feel how uncomfortable he wouldbe to be viewing it in a room full of other boys who didn’t know that he didn’t actually like girls?

Balthazar returned and passed out plastic cups full of an amberliquid, just as the porn queued up. It was a VHS tape, and Dean wondered whatkind of quality they’d even be graced with as Gabe paused it before it couldactually start. Balthazar raised his cup in a mock toast and they all echoedhim, the words of “To personal freedom” ringing in Dean’s head as they allknocked back their cups.

Half of them gasped and choked. Dean’s throat burned and besidehim, Cas coughed. “What is thisstuff?”

“Told you, I’ve not idea, but it’s gotta be the good stuff,cause you know how Uncle Zach is. So, let’s not waste it!”

The porn was unpaused and the drinks flowed freely, and beforeDean knew it, he was pressed against Cas’s side as they listened to theirfriends critiquing the porn. He looked over at Cas. “You uh…enjoying this?”

“Mmm…I’m enjoying the music. And the company,” he giggled.

“What about that?” Dean gestured at the porn and looked quicklyaway. He’d been right about the quality, but it was clear enough for him to seehe was far more turned on by the man then the woman and he didn’t want anybodyelse to notice it. Keep a low profile,remember? We’re gonna be outta here in just a few months…

Cas shuddered. “No. I’d rather dance, but I don’t know how. I’venever gone dancing.” Cas pouted and Dean stood, finishing off his drink in one lastgulp.

“Me neither. Hey! Maybe we can figure it out together. I’m notreally…interested in that either.” Dean said with a nod over to the tv. He reacheddown and pulled Cas to his feet. “I uh…don’t want to do it in here though. It’stoo embarrassing,” Dean confided.

“Agreed,” Cas tugged at Dean’s hand, pulling him out of theliving room and down the hall, checking doorways until they found the one Balthazarhad put their bags in. The music was loud enough that they could hear it clearlyin here and, drunk enough to be loose and giggly, the two of them startedshifting about and bopping to the music.

Dean absolutely noticed that Cas was still holding his handthrough it all.

What he couldn’t be sure of was when the dancing had changed.When they’d drifted closer, when their bodies began to move with each other. Butsoon they weren’t dancing -if it could have been called that. Instead theyswayed into each other’s orbits, their eyes darting wildly over the others face.Deans green eyes flicked from Cas’s blue ones, to his lips, to the lightscruffiness on his jaw and saw Cas doing the same.

Between one breath and the next, they swayed together and theirlips touched.

It was all a hazy blur after that. That brief touch sent sparksthrough Dean’s body, the groan Cas made vibrated through him and the kissdeepened, the swaying stopped as arms reached out and clutched. The kiss wasclumsy and wet – Dean had never dared kiss anyone before – but it felt likeheaven.

He was pretty sure that was all Cas.

Pleasure built between them, gasping breaths and moans and rustlingclothing. Skin on skin and Dean was on fire at the touch of a naked hardnessagainst his own. He couldn’t think clearly any more and he didn’t want to. Together,they spiraled in a blur of motion and feeling, till it crested, leaving thempanting and wet, clinging to each other.

Dean soared high, floating and humming as he slowly came downfrom his euphoria, the urge to curl up with his best friend very strong. Casseemed to feel the same, as he guided them to lay down together on the bed,sleeping bags forgotten. Suddenly sleepy, Dean wrapped himself around Cas andfell asleep.

He woke up the next morning with a strange headache and a smile.He’d had a wonderful dream of him and Cas together– so much more detailed and filled with so much more feeling than he’d ever dreamedbefore – but when he stretched, he realized it hadn’t been a dream. He shot upin the bed, his head swimming with the motion, realizing he was sticky and absolutelynaked, with only a light blanket keeping his modesty.

And Cas was gone.

#writing prompt #destiel #supernatural #teenagers #angst #stifling environment #first time #vaguely not safe for work #implied frottage #longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac

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