#im also making a new tag for talking soon-
uh so im gonna cut off the hiatus for this blog short since school isnt stressing me out as much. you’ll get content on monday june 14th but im setting up my queue for only once a day instead of three. the blog will go under construction for a bit and ill remodel for a bit.
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It’s April 30th, which is a significant deadline for me irl, and that means i will finally have time to use my brain for something other than work.
I’ve never taken prompts before, so I thought I’d give it a try. I’m not sure why I decided to make it so complicated, but hopefully it isn’t?!?
Send me: a JATP character/ship + prompt + two emojis + choose a number between 1 to 8
The number between 1-8 I will associate with one of my playlists and put it on shuffle and whichever song it lands on, I’ll maybe use that song as inspo, maybe not 🤷🏻♀️
I’m open to writing for all the characters in the show and ships can be platonic or romantic or familial! If I’m not comfortable with what you suggest I’ll reach out to you ☺️
Prompts are below the cut!
A cumulation of prompts from this, this, this and this list:
“God, stop doing that.” “Doing what?”
“Are you leaving me?” “Do you want me to leave you?”
“I know it’s 2am but can we meet up”
“On a scale of 1 to 10, how hard do you want me to hit you?”
“Are you staring at me or are you staring past me?”
“Can I ask you something?”
“What do we do now?”
“I don’t want material belongings! I want my heart back!”
“I’m dreading her/his/their call, I’m not ready.”
“Can we make cake? I like cake.”
“I dedicated this nail to you, when I painted them.”
“I want to dance through an army of fireflies with you.”
“Cover me in badges of your love.”
“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”
“Time is what we don’t have, but you are what I need.”
“Soulmates don’t have to be romantic. Sometimes your soul resonates with a friend.”
“Nobody’s seen you in days.”
“Can you shut up for once in your life?”
“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?”
“Have you always been this beautiful?”
“Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”
“So, uh, I locked the keys in the car.”
“Can we please stop running? I think I’m dying.”
Or you can go wild and send me a random sentence or lyric of your own as well! I love surprises!!
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i think that, for someone who has a blog where technically the main purpose is hatred of one specific person, im actually quite a nice person
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wilbur talking abt his closed ecosystems like !!!!! pog dude holy shit
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me going through the ssoss fanart on my own blog bc i like looking at the condensed timeline of it but Also bc ive recently entered the hypetrain for my own fic again bc people are talking about it: free serotonin babey!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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would anyone be interested in a little art raffle or something idk
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ok so just want to say, i feel like im finally really starting to become my real self, like obv everyone grows their entire life and there is no set being, but i just have this feeling that I’m finally living my actual life,, god im not explaining this feeling well, im mostly just saying that I feel free in a way i have never before in my life and it’s incredible,,, and so yeah idk i just wanted to put that thought out into the world lmao
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(CW - medical stuff, maybe dysphoria inducing?) A question to distract you from the current distresses: do any of you experience social/body dysphoria and, if so, would you undergo hrt and/or surgery if given the chance?
It’s okay! But it is funny that your suggestion for a distraction is related to dysphoria skbssjb don’t worry, I want to answer this question!
So being a system is Weird sometimes because the body, if you don’t have a “”main host”” is honestly like a mascot for your system— and of course you all have to agree together so you can be happy with the body and how we present it- so we can be comfortable.
Jamie used to make all the decisions- and we kind of made her make most of the decisions because she was the “main host”.. so we kind of like, “grew up” around asking her for permission for everything. But time’s changed and she’d rather send us motivational posters like a supportive mom on the side of the bleachers kshsf (no longer a main host and she’s kind of retired now, but deserves it)
ANYWAY, that’s context. To answer your question, we kind of all agree the body is like... non-binary/trans in general.
For who experience social/body dysphoria- almost everyone does honestly! Especially as fictives we 100% know we do Not look like this (though I guess that’s body dysmorphia?). Dysphoria not in the gender sense- we feel a lot, but in the gender sense- we do too. The “older” you are as a system member, the more you try to get used to it though. Chara can have dysphoria sometimes, but they’ve learned to set it aside and not care- most of their dysphoria is honestly personal and depends on their gender for the day (always they/them, but they are genderfluid)
I don’t actually get dysphoria as hard, because.... I don’t.. care?? Sjsbdjb we’ve describe it as this way before. Sal (me): i don’t care about my gender. Kris: Do I need to have a gender? Chara: I refuse to have a gender.
Based on your gender as a headmate in our system, you’re just bound to get dysphoria of some kind. The only people who barely feel it I would say is: Chara (they shove it deep down), Myself (too busy planning outfits for the body), Crowley, Jaiden.
Anyway, focusing on body dysphoria, we actually do plan on having surgery some day! Top surgery specifically and we’d be happy to end it there. It’s either that or reduction because it’s Very uncomfortable to Have These and Everybody absolutely hates it. It’s VERY unanimous, so it’s our collective goal.
We were thinking about HRT at some point, but we decided against it. We’re a voice actor/impressionist and a singer, so it would be bad for our hobby. We actually like this voice! As a “mascot” voice besides as Jamie’s. While we know some of us miss our own voice- like Peter’s and my own, we don’t think this is much of an answer. And then, while we know there’s more to it than just affecting our voice (if it does at all), we don’t really plan on fully transitioning any time soon. We kind of.. want to maintain a really androgynous look if possible. We’ve kind of accepted this body’s facial features and so on... but to change completely is something we think we don’t need (for now), and that’s okay
Sorry it’s so long! We never get body related LGBT questions (because they’re really interesting to answer. Usually you’d answer an LGBT question individually but transitioning is something we all have to decide on collectively) so I guess I wasn’t prepared and didn’t know how to shorten it haha, thanks anon!
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i know i havent been on here in like a week but i might end up remaking this blog :x
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wheres the “do i contribute anything to the rpc no but here i am” post bc thats been a mood for at least a few weeks now
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amazing. incredible. went through the tags on that anti post and found dozens of people complaining about people dragging rape into TMA which doesn’t have sexual violence in the source material.
I am legitimately, viscerally disgusted with the behavior I’ve seen a lot of people, including blogs I trusted, display.
Do y’all not understand that a lot of the time, you are saying you hate ACTUAL SURVIVORS OF RAPE for PROCESSING THEIR TRAUMA IN A HEALTHY WAY THAT DOESN’T AFFECT YOU AT ALL???????
Use a word replacer extension! Block tags on ao3! Ao3 LITERALLY lets you exclude “rape/noncon” and “creator chose not to use archive warnings” from your search even without browser extensions! Y’all are ACTIVELY choosing to look at fics that contain rape and then getting mad when! they do in fact exist! fuck you??? That’s literally so immature and rude.
Fuck off if you think it’s your place to tell survivors what they can and cannot talk about. Fuck off if you think it’s your place to tell ANYONE what they can or cannot talk about in their own private space!
Antis stop fucking complaining about the fact that y’all REFUSE to use the resources provided to you to avoid content you don’t like! It is YOUR JOB to curate your fandom experience in a way that’s healthy for you--it is not everyone else’s job to bend over backwards to make sure to never produce any content that for any reason y’all don’t like!
Because! I have read through! A solid 90% of the Explicit tag on ao3 for TMA! And guess how many fics I found glorifying rape! 0! 0 fics do that! All of the fics that involve problematic elements fully admit that those elements are problematic! All of them! Show me the rape fics where the author is saying rape is good! Because I don’t fucking see them! And I’ve looked! The only instance I ran into of “mistagging noncon” turned out, on second read, to be a misinterpretation on my part!
It’s making me think that a lot of y’all aren’t antis out of some misguided attempt to protect others--you’re antis because you like harassing, abusing, threatening, and hurting people, you like seeing someone change their url and delete their fics and talk about how much you’ve hurt them, you like the feeling of having people afraid of you, you like being able to unleash your anger on people who can’t fight back, and you’ve created an excuse to allow yourself to indulge in your abusive tendencies. It’s gross and you’re gross and you should be deeply ashamed of your behavior because it’s literally classic abuser mentality. “It’s not abuse because my victim is a bad person! I can threaten and suicide-bait them all I want, because they posted something fictional online that I chose to read of my own accord!”
I, for one, prefer people who admit they have dark tendencies and relegate them to the land of fiction where they can’t actually hurt real people, over those of you who think your abusive tendencies are only bad if they’re used against “good” people. An abuser’s victim will never be good enough to be undeserving of abuse in the abuser’s eyes.
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Thanks @jlf23tumble for the tag! I had forgotten about this until Blake posted theirs but tee tee I do love talking about myself
rules: tag nine people you want to get to know better/catch up with!
favourite colour: emerald green and wine red were my go tos but those feel too heavy now that its hot so lets say EGG YOLK FUCKING YELLOW BABEY
currently reading: STILL making my through the third Dragon Chronicle by Susan Fletcher, Sign of the Dove. Also just got Starlight Barking, the absolutely bonkers 101 Dalmatians sequel from the library, which is a pre-apocalyptic sci-fi story about nuclear war and dog teleportation so like, stoked to start that one and see if its as weird as I remember.
last song: Hands by Jewel LMAO can you tell I'm having a bad mental health day
last movie: In the middle of Lawrence of Arabia (it’s a multiple night endeavor, for my heart and just for endurance’s sake) but weirdly we’ve been watching Le Mis obsessively?? Like twice in a week? Plus the concert version??? I don’t know. Um last NEW movie I watched was Raya and the Last Dragon which I fucking loved, probably gonna write fucky Dragon fic about it and lose all my friends soon, nice knowing y'all.
last series: Black Sails was the last I finished, but we’re still chipping away at Xena and I occasionally watch a Knight Rider episode when I need some mindless car-fucking vibes.
sweet, spicy or savory: SAVORY, but savory and spicy together is really a winning combo.
craving: the absence of pain and anxiety and a good night of sleep!! I miss sleeping well and I miss not being in pain. But also.....eggs. ALWAYS EGGS. IM A FUCKING EGG FIEND NOW. egg stan on main. Love me some eggs. After being vegan for ten years they are my NEW FAVORITE INDULGENCE.
tea or coffee: coffee for sure, though lately I can barely drink it because I'm so anxious
currently working on: a million small projects like weed whacking and helping my stupid horses stupid injured hoof feel better, finishing commissions, and packing prints to send. But most importantly, my biggest project is a graphic novel/memoir I'm writing about catholic high school. I’ve completed like 13 consecutive pages which might not seem like a lot but each one takes me an entire day soooo its big to me! Also, related, but I'm working on suing my high school for discrimination and in the process of researching how class action lawsuits work and contacting lawyers, so thats also fun lmao.
I tag @reshirement @theresonlyzuul @ahufflepuffhobbit @elwing @antismiles @thorniest-rose @elsonambulo @heterophobicrichietozier @oliver-perks @gretchensinister @bobakick and @pohjanneito !!! no pressure but if you’d like to <3
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Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.
Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup
Word count: 12k
Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.
Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)
To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.
Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.
Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.
Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.
A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.
Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.
One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"
"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.
That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.
"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.
"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.
"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.
"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.
Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.
"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.
"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."
"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"
"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.
"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"
There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.
And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?
"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.
"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.
They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.
"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.
"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.
"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.
You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.
As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.
"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.
"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.
"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."
Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.
"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.
"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.
Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.
That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.
The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!
Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.
One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.
Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.
"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.
"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.
"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"
Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.
"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.
Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.
"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.
"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.
"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.
Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"
It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.
Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.
Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.
Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.
You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.
"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.
"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.
"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.
"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.
You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"
Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.
A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.
"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.
"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.
"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"
You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."
Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.
"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.
"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.
"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.
"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"
"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.
"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?
"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.
Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.
Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.
"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"
"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.
"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.
"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.
"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.
Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.
"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.
Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.
Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.
You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.
Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.
"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.
You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.
Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.
Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.
"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.
"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.
"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.
The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?
"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.
Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.
The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.
"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.
Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.
"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"
"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.
"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.
"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."
A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?
"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.
"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?
Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.
Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"
Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.
Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.
"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.
Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"
"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.
Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.
The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.
The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.
"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?
Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.
"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.
Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.
Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.
Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.
Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.
You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.
"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.
"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.
With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.
He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"
Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?
Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"
You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.
Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.
Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.
With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.
You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.
"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.
Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.
Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.
Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.
Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.
"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.
"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.
He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.
Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.
And oh kriff, you sure are busy.
An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.
Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.
You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.
You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.
Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.
Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.
"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.
Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.
"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.
At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.
"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.
"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.
Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.
Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.
"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.
Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."
Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.
Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.
"Where?" he manages to blurt out.
"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.
Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.
Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.
Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.
A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.
Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.
"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.
"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.
"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.
"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.
"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.
"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.
"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.
You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.
Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."
Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.
You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."
"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.
Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.
You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.
This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.
Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.
"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.
You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"
Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"
"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.
Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.
"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.
Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.
Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.
When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.
"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.
Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.
Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.
He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.
Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.
"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.
"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.
Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.
Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.
At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.
Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.
"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.
"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.
They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.
However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.
Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.
Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.
The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.
"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.
Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.
"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.
"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."
"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.
Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.
"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.
Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"
"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.
You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.
You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.
Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.
"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.
"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.
"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.
"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.
You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."
You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.
It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.
Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.
The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.
With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.
You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.
"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.
"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.
When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!
As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.
"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.
"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"
Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.
Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.
Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.
"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.
You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.
"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.
Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.
"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.
"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.
Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!
A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.
"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.
"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.
"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.
You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.
"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.
"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.
Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."
Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.
A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.
Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.
Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.
Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"
Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.
You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.
You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.
Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.
"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.
"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.
"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.
Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.
A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.
"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.
Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."
You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.
"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.
"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.
"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.
Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.
"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.
"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.
"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.
An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!
The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich.
Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.
Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.
"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.
"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.
"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.
"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.
"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.
Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.
What a dream!!!!
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— when he thinks youre cheating:
↳ with iwaizumi
genre: hurt comfort
pairings: timeskip! iwaizumi hajime x gn!reader
warnings: cheating, angst, but like i think thats it? lots of misunderstandings!!
ask: can you do a "he thinks your cheating on him" with iwa osamu or any characters youd like to see ? ( @twatshag )
a/n: BRO OK SO I J KEPT WRITING AND ALL OF A SUDDEN I DONT THINK I SHOULD WRITE MORE FOR OSAMU SO HERE U GO 🏃🏻♀️
you kinda could tell haji was having a bad day. i mean he was a little extra aggressive in his previous texts
so being the great s/o you were you decided to go find him some new cologne!!
he was always surrounded by sweaty men boys so you thought it would be sweet (^w^)
but when you look for cologne you kinda have to test it out...
it had been a long day. iwaizumi could admit that all he wanted to do was cuddle up in your arms, or hold you, not being in the best of moods. his axe body spray stained the car from this morning in a failed attempt at trying the spray deodorant. he also spilled his piping hot coffee on the car seats, and mixed up whos papers were whos at work today. yeah, it had been a long day. of course, now he just wanted to even see your face, or hear his lovely s/o’s voice but alas his phone was dead and his charger broke. hey at least his godzilla soundtrack was still playing? at this point hajime was practically speeding to get home. finally arriving at the base of your apartment complex, he makes the long descent to the top floor: home. well i guess home was really you, not a place but nonetheless once he arrived his arms relaxed and his jaw unclenched in anticipation for you. as soon as he enters the space he starts off with the everyday, “baby, im home,” a tradition, and a part of yalls daily routine. normally he would be greeted with a “how was your day babe?” but it seemed today was different as he was greeted with silence. thinking you had just passed out on the couch again he went to go see where you were, and needless to say he was right. you were in fact sleeping on the couch lightly drooling and snoring. chuckling lightly to himself wishing his phone wasnt dead so he could take a photo, he makes his way over to peck a quick kiss on your forehead, maybe lingering in your scent a little as well. it was just so comforting to him. but today he smelled something different, a different scent. it was a masculine scent, one that wasnt his. it couldnt have been because after all he had been busy all day and you had just done laundry last night. so what was this scent? no, more like whos scent was this. insecurities flooding iwas brain caused him to abruptly move away from you, causing you to wake up. “babe? youre home already? sorry i mustve fallen asleep... how was work?” you ask innocently, not picking up on how iwa was practically shaking from how hard he clenched his fists, practically drawing blood. “work was... fine,” he grit out hearing how innocent you sounded wanting to trust you. but when all evidence points your way, and when minds get cloudy in a fit of insecurities... communication and logic goes out the window. finally waking up, and your eyes finally adjusting from just waking up you pick up on your boyfriends body language. “hey, whats wrong haji?” you ask concernedly wondering what in the world happened at work. “who is it l/n,” you hear those words hitting you straight in the face. “l/n? not even my first name? what the fuck are you talking about iwaizumi,” throwing his last name back at him, shocked at his tone and not understanding what he said. “dont play dumb with me. i can smell him on you, next time at least try to hide it from me,” he scoffs. “so how long has it been going on? does he make you happy?” he questions further, his curiosity getting the best of him and a bit of insecurity bleeding into his words, his voice getting meeker the more he wondered out loud. “iwaizumi hajime. you are the love of my life. the only love of my life. i have no idea what is getting into you. i bought this cologne for you to give u a bit of a cleanse from all the sweaty men you have to work with. its not someone else, youre the only one for me,” you explain, finally understanding what he meant. as you watch his face crumple you start to wonder if you said something wrong. “im so sorry. i dont know why i didnt trust you more, you were just being caring and i took my insecurities out on you. i love you, please dont leave me,” he lightly sobs, his voice catching a bit as his breathes start to get faster; scared of what you were going to say. “i will never leave you haji, youre it for me. i promise. i love you too,” you say, getting slightly emotional at your confession.
“good. youre it for me too, and for the record, i will always make you happier,” he says enveloping you into his massive arms as you chuckle and say, “ugh you ass. now cmon lets get some sleep ok?” “ok love, also id just like to say that youre home to me.”
BRO I HAD TO MAKE ANOTHER TEXT BLOCK THING BC APPARENTLY I HIT THE LIMIT ON MOBILE- ANYWAYS YALL LOOK RLY HOT WHEN U REBLOG 👀👀
↳ back to all of haikyuu
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YOU BELONG WITH ME (MULTIPART)
Part 1// Part 2//Part 3//Part 4//Part 5
Summary: You’re the fifth member of Queen and you’re rather shy compared to your twin, Freddie. When he tells you about the new addition to Queen, who seems to be exactly your type you’re slightly intrigued. On meeting him, you’re convinced he’s a perfect fit for your band, oh, and he is definitely your type
A/N: This will be a slow burn. Oh, and Freddie and Y/n are 23, Brian is 22, Roger is 21 and John is 20 when the story starts, because I’m lazy and can’t do math. And all Queen songs are absolutely a result of the genius of Brian, Roger, Freddie and John, but Y/n needs to write some too! This isn’t discrediting their work in any way. And absolutely no offense is meant through this, it’s fiction based loosely around their timeline.
New chapters will be updated every Monday and Thursday (hopefully), and this is according to IST (Indian-Standard Time)
Pairings: John Deacon x Fem!Reader, Freddie Mercury x Twin!Reader
Taglist: @sevenseasofyeet @brianmay-ownsme @foxinaforestofstars @thebeatlesuniverse @deakyghost @mirkwoodshewolf @stormtrooper-instilettos @0x0spunky-monkey0x0 @sarah0687 @tinypeculiar @plutoneu @jennyggggrrr @im-going-slightly-mad-for-roger @thepinktragedyus
(message me if you want to be removed or add yourself here, crossed out tag wouldn’t take, sorry!!)
Warnings: more angst some slightly steamy bits (nothing explicit)
A/N: I improvised a bit around the backstage scenes
*important: if you enjoy this, PLEASE like/rb it, send me feedback/questions via ask or message. it’s really encouraging to see feedback/people enjoying it.
Here’s the Moodboard
The tour for A Day At The Races had finished two months ago, and you were all on a tight deadline to write, record and release an album by October of ’77.
Your sour mood had seeped into your song-writing, you’d come up with My Melancholy Blues and there ended your creative spark. You were unable to write anymore, each time you’d put pen to paper your eyes would blur over with tears and spill onto the pages in front of you.
Your brother on the other hand, had written a song that was sure to become an anthem, and Brian had obviously gone and written another song that would surely become a popular one amongst the audience. Roger had written two strong songs, and John, his songs were so lovely that you wished you’d come up with them yourself. While recording the vocals for his songs, your throat began to close up as tears threatened to make themselves known. It worked for Spread Your Wings, but for his other song, Who Needs You, (which he’d confessed was about how his previous relationship had come to an end), it had taken you three attempts to sing it without crying.
To say that your bandmates were concerned about you was an understatement. Roger was the one who understood your need for space, but also insisted on telling you jokes and funny stories about the roadies. He’d managed to make you laugh out loud at his raunchy joke, which earned you both shocked glances from the others, they hadn’t heard you laugh since March. You smiled weakly at them, when you met John’s eyes your heart fluttered, had he always looked at you like that? His eyes were shining and his smile was soft as he gazed at you, happy to see you laugh.
Brian had recommended book after book to you, and you’d read more in the past few months than you’d read in your entire childhood. He’d even come to you about his new songs, eager for your lyrical input, you had a unique twist with words. You were able to put the words in a better sequence for him and even gave him the idea of three stages of man for his new song, which was to be a double A-side with Freddie’s song.
Freddie tried to stick by you as much as he could at parties, if he saw the way your lip trembled when you saw John surrounded by pretty girls, eager to go up to his hotel room, he ignored it, and wisely pointed out to you that he never took any of them up on their not-so-subtle hints.
True to his word, John had kept his distance from you, giving you space. All you wanted to do was go up to him and grab his collar, kiss him fiercely and tell him how much you adored him. Even on stage, he’d stay away from you, a stark contrast from your usual dynamic on stage, where he’d come and stand beside you, smiling at you happily as he plucked away at his bass, dancing along to the beats. You felt incomplete without his presence near you while performing. Even during ’39, he’d position himself in such a way that Freddie stood between the two of you. It hurt. Even more so when you remembered it was all your fault.
11th December, 1977-The Summit, Houston, USA:
The new album had been released by October end, and the tour had begun a month ago. Today, there was a show at Houston, you had finished getting ready in your small dressing room, something to ensure you got your privacy while changing, but you usually hung out in the main dressing room with the others.
You had put on a sparkling silver dress, to contrast with Freddie’s black-and-white leotard. The dress had left you feeling confident, even if it was shorter than you were comfortable with, it hit a little above mid-thigh. It hugged your curves in a very flattering manner, accentuating your waist and emphasizing your hips, which Freddie often told you not to be shy about because according to him, ‘If you’ve got it, you should flaunt it’, and you had to admit, you had got it. The silver heels you’d donned were low enough for you to be able to move around on stage comfortably. Glancing at your reflection with a smile on your face, you fluffed your hair once more before leaving for the room where the boys changed.
You didn’t bother to knock, and walked in only to see none of them dressed, except Brian who had worn his white shirt or was it a waistcoat? (you couldn’t tell), and was doing his eyeliner. Freddie was lounging in his robe and drinking tea, Roger was wearing a robe over his jeans, and seemed to be getting his hair done. And John? He was in his red checked shirt and jeans, reclining in a chair beside Freddie. Roger looked up to see who had entered, and beamed at you, and asked the camera man to get a shot of you in your stage wear, oh yes, this tour was being documented for the BBC by Bob Harris.
You walked into the room, ignoring the camera, it made you a bit nervous. John looked up at you, and promptly fell off his chair. He picked himself off the floor, looking a bit sheepish. You felt a little flicker of pride as you realized he’d liked the way you looked. Maybe you had a shot with him after all.
“That’s a lovely dress Y/n”, Brian complimented from his spot in front of the mirror, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror as he smiled at you, conveying his sincerity.
“Thank you Bri”, you smiled back at him, for the first time in months the smile didn’t feel forced.
“You look happier”, Freddie observed, “Maybe you should wear sparkly dresses all the time”, he joked as he took in your outfit.
“I am feeling better Freddie”, you said softly as you looked over at John shyly, hoping you were conveying through your eyes that you wanted to speak with him.
You and Brian had left to get some water while the other three changed into their outfits, “So, what’s the reason for your improved mood?”
You giggled, “I realized, there’s no way I can compare with the mystery woman John’s infatuated with, and that doesn’t mean I have to make myself and everyone else miserable”
He stopped walking, “Wait, what mystery woman?”
You looked at him, “That day, when I flipped out completely, I heard you all encouraging him to ask her out”, you explained, “He seemed so into her, how could I compete with that?”
“Oh Y/n”, he sighed, “You’ve got it all wrong”
You wrinkled your nose, “What do you mean?”
“He was talking about you”
Your jaw dropped.
“Gosh, is that why you were so upset?”, he sounded incredulous, “He hasn’t shut up about you for the past year, he’s in love with you”
“Oh”, was all you managed before Ratty came over to you both, “Freddie’s calling for you, Y/n”, he said and ran back to the stage to ensure the amps were all working.
You walked back to the dressing room and saw Freddie standing dressed in his leotard, “There’s my twin”, he called out in a sickeningly sweet voice, one he used when he wanted something out of you.
“What do you want Freddie?”
“Can you tie my shoes?”
You rolled your eyes but made him sit down anyway and kneeled down to begin tying them, “All these years, and you still don’t tie your own ballet shoes?”
He grinned, “Not when I have people to do it”
You finished tying them and pinched his leg for good measure before standing up and straightening your dress, “Ouch”, he whined.
From the corner of your eye, you saw John emerge dressed in a dark blue shirt and the loveliest (and tightest) white satin pants you’d ever seen on him, they made his legs look ridiculously long, and he was wearing his white platforms that added an inch or two to his regular height. Your mouth was suddenly dry as you took him in, admiring his hair and his sharp features that were accentuated because he’d cut his hair. Roger cleared his throat, making you snap out of it and blush as you realized you’d been openly checking him out, John had been left flustered at your perusal of him, your gaze sweeping over him from head to toe. Freddie snickered while Brian politely hid a smirk.
Soon, it was time to go onstage, you could already hear the audience singing We Will Rock You, the adrenaline began pumping through your veins as you heard them, bringing you into your pre-concert mindset, by the time you’d reached the wings. Brian and Roger had headed over to the opposite end of the stage, Freddie was jumping up and down, energizing himself. You had been handed your mic and you were clutching onto it as you shifted your weight from one leg to another. You were unusually nervous and it showed because John had wrapped his hand gently around your wrist, “It’ll be alright”, he soothed, speaking to you for the first time in months about something that wasn’t related to recording, and before you could turn around and talk to him, Ginger had pushed you onto the stage. And a huge wave of energy hit you as the piercing spotlight shone on you and Freddie as the openings to the fast version of, We Will Rock You began, your voices were at peak condition and the audience was eager to listen.
It began smoothly, you all swiftly transitioned to the regular We Will Rock You which had the audience stomping and clapping along with you all. Brighton Rock was of course a delight to perform. Then began the fun part, Somebody To Love, you sat beside Freddie on the piano stool as you both duetted vocal improvisations, he’d sing something and you’d reply with something even more complicated, it’d go on for a while like this, both of you riling up the audience until the opening keys began to play and you stood up from the stool and headed to centre stage. On your way there, you met John’s eyes, he mouthed to you, ‘perfect’, you flushed and began singing in perfect time with Freddie.
Then came the next part of the medley, you all launched into Death On Two Legs, followed by Killer Queen. Your nerves were at an all-time high when Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy began to play, Freddie let you take this solo, you had a deal on tour. He’d sing Killer Queen solo, while you backed him up, and vice versa for your song. You steadied yourself as you walked right up to John and began singing into the mic while gazing into his eyes as you twirled and pirouetted around him as you sang in a slightly husky tone,
Think of me always
Love you, love you
In a wave of confidence, you blew a kiss to him, something which was met with raucous applause and cheers from the audience, and made him blush. Roger shot you a wink from behind the drums, encouraging you, while Brian grinned widely.
Hey, boy, where do you get it from?
Hey, boy, where did you go?
I learned my passion
In the good old-fashioned
School of lover boys
As the song drew to a close you stood next to him and leaned your shoulder against him before shooting him a dazzling smile and walking off towards the piano, swaying your hips slightly. Next up was I’m In Love With My Car, you and Freddie gave your voices a bit of a rest while Roger did all the work. Then came the psychedelic Get Down Make Love, you played the piano for this one while Freddie took the solo vocals for it, followed by The Millionaire Waltz which you and Freddie sang as a duet.
Then came John’s song, You’re My Best Friend, it was a delight to sing and harmonize on with your brother and Roger. You stood up from the piano and walked over to centre stage and stood beside Brian as he plucked at the strings on his precious Red Special, John walked over to where you stood and nudged you lightly, ‘You’re my best friend’, he mouthed as you sang the lines of his beautiful song which he’d written for you, making you beam at him.
Then came Liar, but with a mishap, Brian broke a string just as the crescendo hit. You froze, something had to be done, you couldn’t be silent. Just then a sharp spotlight shone on you and Freddie as you improvised back and forth in rhythm with Roger and John. Brian returned soon with a replacement guitar and smoothly picked up and the song progressed. Just as the ‘all day longs’, finished with John moving away from Freddie’s mic and towards you just in time for his bass solo. That bass solo never failed to make you lose focus, you’d watch his fingers fly over the frets faster than you’d ever seen anyone else play. You focused on your shoes and on listening to the sound instead of his fingers, not wanting to get distracted in the middle of a concert.
When Brian was handed his acoustic, you, John and Roger headed backstage. No matter how much Freddie insisted on having you sing this onstage you denied him. It was far too personal a song for him, it was also why you’d let him take solo vocals on the record. Love Of My Life was something for him to bond with the audience over. But he’d done the same for you during My Melancholy Blues, he let you take lead vocals while he played the piano.
While backstage, Ginger handed you a towel with which you removed whatever sweat had dripped down your face and skin. She then passed you your favourite perfume which you quickly re-sprayed and gulped down some water. You thanked her and headed back to the wings, passing John who was drinking some vodka Ratty had handed him, he choked on it as you breezed by. Roger looked at him oddly over his own drink. You didn’t know that it was the smell of your perfume that had made him choke, he loved the scent on you so much, it drove him crazy.
You all walked onto stage as Love Of My Life drew to a close, the lights were still black towards the back of the stage, all the focus was on Brian and Freddie. When Brian announced ’39 you all walked towards the front of the stage. This time, John came and stood right beside you on your right and Roger was on your left, next to him was Freddie and on the extreme left was Brian.
As the first verse ended, you and Roger took the higher falsettos while Brian and Freddie handled the same at a lower pitch. The strain was higher on your voice today and Roger had point-blank refused to hit the highest falsetto, his voice had cracked the last time and he hated it. You threw your head back as you coaxed the notes out and accidentally hit them full-throated to whistles and cheers from the audience. Once the second verse began, you took a break to catch your breath and looked over at John who looked astonished at the sheer power your voice held a few seconds back. They all knew you and Freddie had an incredible range, but you had hit a falsetto Roger struggled with in your full voice.
Soon ’39 ended and it was time for the last song of the acoustic set, Freddie squeezed your arm and walked back to the piano to play My Melancholy Blues, John took a seat on another stool while Roger went back to his drums. A bright white spotlight shined down on you, making your dress shimmer even brighter, as the piano began to play.
You closed your eyes and let the song take you on its journey, you let the emotions you felt over the past months wash over you and slipped into the mindset you were while composing it. In your subconsciousness you could hear your voice soaring through The Summit, it was powerful, unwavering and strong. By the end of the song your face felt wet, and you realized that you’d been so into the song that your emotions had gotten the better of you and now a few tears had escaped from your eyes.
You nipped backstage for a moment where Ginger handed you a tissue with which you wiped your eyes and tossed it into the trashcan and ran back onstage to applause and cheers. “That’s my twin sister!!”, Freddie called as they all clapped for you.
Next up was White Man, followed by Prophet’s Song and then came Brian’s guitar solo. Once he’d finished wowing the audience, it was time for Now I’m Here, Roger had forgotten the cue and Freddie had to practically push him onstage as he went on hurtling behind him, almost falling, (later in the dressing room he’d say he nearly went ‘arse over tit’) but he covered it up pretty well and the rest of the show went on smoothly.
Before you realized it, We Are The Champions was upon you and meant the concert was over. The song ended with a sweeping flourish and God Save The Queen began to play, you all took your bows and walked off the stage feeling satisfied.
You had been bundled into your robe by Ginger and practically shoved into bathroom set aside for everyone to shower and change in. You let the water wash over your skin, relaxing your muscles. Feeling refreshed, you wrapped a towel around yourself and stepped out into the changing area only to run smack into John, who had a towel wrapped low on his hips, droplets of water streaming down his chest, his hands immediately going to your waist to stop you from slipping and falling. “Oh”, you squeaked, grabbing his shoulders to steady yourself, ignoring the way you felt a blush spread across your cheeks as you realized you were touching his bare skin.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to run into the others in the bathrooms, but this time it was just the two of you, the others nowhere to be seen. You were both staring into each other’s eyes until he snapped out it, “Err, I’ll just go”, he said awkwardly and let go of your waist and went over to the curtained off area to change into his regular clothes.
You sighed and picked up your change of clothes which had been laid out before the concert started and went into another cubicle to change into them. By the time you were done and had stepped out, John had left the bathroom. You picked up the bag that held your crumpled up stage wear and walked back to the dressing room. They were all inside, Freddie dressed in his robe once again, sipping on something while John sat beside him, slipping on his socks and shoes. Freddie had begun examining his toes, the ballet shoes tended to pinch.
“Oh blood! Blood! Shit! Peter, sue the management!”, he called dramatically. Roger was dressed in just his trousers and Brian was in the process of slipping on his own trousers, the camera trained onto him, ‘Get off my trousers, fucking get out!”, he chided.
Chuckling you made your way further into the room when a bright flash clouded your vision, Roger had snapped a photo of you with his camera, black spots were clouding your vision when you poked his ribs lightly with your elbow causing him to screech and dart out of your way.
“Good show, wasn’t it?”, you asked as you perched yourself on the counter and ruffled your twin’s hair fondly. He batted your hand away, but grinned all the same. “It was, but I had to tell Roger to go on, he was just standing there!” He was talking about Now I’m Here, “I know, I didn’t realize we were playing!”, Roger called from his spot near the table where he was fiddling with his camera.
John had finished wearing his shoes and socks and was buttoning his shirt sleeves when Roger began talking about his beloved maracas “You threw my best fucking pair of maracas away!", that according to him were “Best sound maracas, took me hours to steal them”, he fumed, “And he just throws them”, he imitated someone throwing something, and just then John went over to the other side of the room, glancing into the camera, a little smirk on his face. “They were rather good, I must say”, Freddie apologized. Freddie was now talking about how they now knew he’d throw things and they’d give him these rattles with about two peas in them, and how they made such a small sound. Brian had finished getting dressed and walked over to you all.
“Maybe you could throw me in the audience”, he joked. Freddie grinned widely and stood up, “Don’t give him ideas”, someone warned, making you all chuckle, “You don’t rattle as well”, Freddie quipped at Brian making you all laugh.
“Lovely colours”, someone called from across the room, “Mmm yes, lovely kitsch colours”, Freddie agreed.
Soon, they were all dressed and it was time to head back to the hotel for the after-party. You all got into your limos, Freddie, John and you in one while Brian and Roger took another.
it gets a bit better from here now :D
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PeppersGhost's Proposal, I guess.
K/O Failure Scenario Hub » SPC-001 » PeppersGhost's Proposal, I guess.
You are now connected.
[13:04] Topic is "Fuck credentials, fuck passwords, fuck secrecy, fuck everything. Just, fuck in general. Fuck like it's the end of the world, because it is. Fuck me, please oh lord im so alone | Welcome! If you're still alive to read this, good luck finding someone to talk to."
[13:04] DrTsega: Hello? Anyone here?
[19:32] DrTsega: I'll take that as a no, then.
[22:48] DrTsega: I can't be the only one left.
[22:49] DrTsega: Hey Queg, are you still running?
[22:49] Queg: Hello, DrTsega. What can I do for you?
[22:49] DrTsega: thank god
[22:50] DrTsega: !backscroll 10
[22:50] Queg: [04:33] SgtYitay: I've looked through the entire building
[22:50] Queg: [04:33] SgtYitay: Everyone is dead
[22:50] Queg: [04:33] AgentCaleb: No shit
[22:50] Queg: [04:33] AgentCaleb: I know nobody uses this thing anyway but DAMN it's been EMPTY
[22:50] Queg: [04:34] AgentCaleb: You think it's just the two of us?
[22:50] Queg: [04:37] AgentCaleb: You still there
[22:50] Queg: [04:39] AgentCaleb: Saaarrrrge
[22:50] Queg: [04:50] SgtYitay has been disconnected (Ping timeout)
[22:50] Queg: [18:22] AgentCaleb: oooookay well i think im gonna call it quits then. If anyone sees this tell my husband I love him
[22:50] Queg: [18:22] AgentCaleb: lol jk i'll see that dogfaced whore in hell 👍🕶👍
[22:51] DrTsega: hmm
[22:52] DrTsega: !seen Agent Caleb
[22:52] Queg: AgentCaleb was last seen 8 days ago saying: lol jk i'll see that dogfaced whore in hell 👍🕶👍
[22:52] DrTsega: shit
[22:53] DrTsega: shitballs
[22:53] DrTsega: shitmonkeys
[22:55] DrTsega: shit the nail on the head
[22:55] DrTsega: okay
[11:16] DrTsega: Good morning. If anyone sees this just ping me, I'll stay around as long as I can.
[09:48] DrTsega: I'm still here
[14:26] DrTsega: !quote CaptSumner
[14:26] Queg: CaptSumner: I may be shitting out of my pee parts but FUCK YOU I will WALK IT OFF
[14:26] DrTsega: haha what
[14:27] DrTsega: Good times, good times.
[14:28] DrTsega: I wish Sumner wasn't lying dead in the bathroom
[14:29] DrTsega: or anywhere, for that matter
[14:33] DrTsega: but especially the bathroom
[08:01] DrTsega: I'm still here
[12:55] DrTsega: Man, if anyone sees this later I'm going to look really pitiful
[05:51] DrTsega: okay I can't sleep so I guess I might as well do this
[05:52] DrTsega: !settopic Check the backscroll. Look for "Start here"
[05:52] Topic is "Check the backscroll. Look for "Start here""
[05:52] DrTsega: Start here
[05:53] DrTsega: If you're still alive to read this, congratulations. You survived.
[05:54] DrTsega: You also have access to working internet and enough knowledge about shadow governments to visit a (previously) private communications channel, so, hey, good on you.
[05:55] DrTsega: As a reward for being such a cool and alive person, I'm going to tell you the story of how we ended the world.
[05:55] DrTsega: For context, though, you'll probably want to start by reading a certain document…
[05:56] DrTsega: Actually, you can probably just skim it. A lot of this won't make sense to you anyway, so who cares?
[05:57] DrTsega: Anyway. I'll go find the link. If memory serves, they declassified everything when they realized we were all gonna die.
[06:13] DrTsega: How are these servers even still up? Isn't that just the craziest thing
[08:22] DrTsega: Found it.
NOTICE FROM THE CENTRAL INTELLIGENCE COORDINATION
AND PROJECTS OPERATION COMMAND OFFICE
There is nothing new to report regarding SPC-001 at this time.
Test subject displaying the results of his exposure to SPC-001.
Project #: SPC-001
Selachian Pugnātorial Capabilities: Individuals enhanced with SPC-001 display a dramatic improvement in pugilistic prowess and have consistently proven capable of easily dispatching 90% of squaloid entities in simulations, even with no prior training. Furthermore, SPC-001 subjects have reported a radical elevation in coastal requiescence position retention, even when under assault from extragranular sedimentary weaponry.
Project Components: SPC-001 is a manmade chemical substance which augments the biological strength and dexterity of human beings. After initial exposure to SPC-001, subjects will undergo a steady increase in muscle mass over the following 72 hours, accompanied by heightened energy levels and adroit perception of their surroundings. Increased lung capacity and resistance to deep-sea hydrostatic pressure are common side effects.
Following the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION and the subsequent activation of the ALL HANDS ON DECK PROTOCOL, SPC agents embedded in the food industry began introducing discreet amounts of SPC-001 into numerous products intended for public consumption. Centre researchers have projected a full global saturation of SPC-001 to be achieved by the year ████. In the event that the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION ends before global saturation can be achieved, more aggressive means of SPC-001 dispersal may be undertaken to prevent a complete End-of-World K/O Failure Scenario.
Nascency Impetus: On May 16, ████, all observed selachian entities across the globe simultaneously demanifested, including those in SPC captivity. No selachian entities or evidence of the continued presence of selachian entities have been observed since. A Maximum State of Emergency was declared soon after by the Executive Pugilist Assembly and the phenomenon was codified as the DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION. It is the belief of the Assembly that the selachians are congregating in preparation for the FINAL CONFLICT, an event foretold by Elder Pugilord Azmanititas in the Centre's original constitutional documents in 1451.
[08:23] DrTsega: Did you get all that?
[08:23] DrTsega: No? Okay, I'll break it down for you.
[08:26] DrTsega: I was part of a group known as the Selachian Punching Centre. An organization dedicated to fighting the menace that plagued our oceans. "We punch underwater so you can live on the land." That's what we used to say.
[08:27] DrTsega: I know what you're thinking.
[08:29] DrTsega: Yes. It was us keeping you safe the entire time. The Centre safeguarded mankind for centuries. Civilization as we knew it wouldn't have been possible if we weren't around. Our influence was unparalleled, extending to every level of every government, changing the course of world events, yet remaining a complete secret from everybody, which was really quite tricky.
Then, one day, the selachian menace disappeared. Our immediate reaction was one of disbelief, followed by euphoria, followed by raucous celebration. We danced. We drank ourselves stupid. We sang the songs of our forefathers. The orgies weren't officially sanctioned, of course, but boy howdy-doo were they tremendous.
Sadly, our revelry wasn't meant to last.
"DREAD PORPOISE COMMUNION", the Assembly called it. The prophesied gathering of every selachian, big or small. Every sharp, slimy, putrid horror that haunted our dreams, coming together in one place to bring about the end of all other life on our beautiful, green planet.
"But fear not," said our trusted Assembly. They told us that the human race would fight back. They said that when the selachians returned with their armies and squaloid murder-drones, we would be ready.
And they were right. We were ready. Thanks to SPC-001, we managed to get the entire human race fighting fit. At first people were alarmed when everyone started getting super ripped for no apparent reason, but then they realized it was awesome and the panic died down. Within a few months, every man, woman, and child was a lean, mean, punching machine. Even babies had abs you could wash your clothes on. It seemed like everything was going fine.
And that's how it went for the first couple of years: fine. Sure, boxing had to be outlawed once folks could punch with the same Newtonian force as your average car crash, and there were a few riots now and then over tank top shortages, but for the most part everything felt normal.
Year three, people started getting antsy. We had kept ourselves busy at the Centre by devising new weapons for selachian warfare, but every innovation felt hollow with a lack of anything to use them on. We grew listless. Surely the assault would begin any day, right?
Year four. There was an aura of dread hanging over the whole organization. I remember sitting in the Site-71 cafeteria, eating pickled cabbage and creamed corn salads with my comrades, when I finally heard someone ask aloud what we'd all wondered in the dark corners of our heads.
"What if they don't come back?"
It was Simmons who said that, of course. Of course. I kicked him in the face—a punch would have really hurt him—but the damage was done. It's a scary thought, losing your purpose in life. Faced with that kind of existential ennui, it's no wonder that everyone responded by flipping their shit. Hersberger screamed and started smearing her salad all over her face. Gertzler stabbed his fork tines into his cheek with no visible emotion. Bühler just broke down and cried until his tears turned to blood.
But Schwartzentruber was downright fuming. Started shouting all sorts of obscenities. Said he'd shove his fist down Simmons' throat and rip out his toenails from the inside. And Simmons was all defensive, "you all were thinking it" and that kind of stuff. The two kept going at it. We shouldn't have just sat there and watched, but no one thought fists would ever get involved. How could we have known?
I remember the entire cafeteria going silent. One moment, the two colleagues had been arguing. Next thing we knew, Schwartzentruber was wearing Simmons' face around his arm like a bracelet. Fist went straight through. Nobody knew what to say. Hersberger just picked the brain matter from her hair. There was no finishing our dinner after something like that.
We all tried to write it off as an isolated incident, an unhinged employee who forgot his own strength in a moment of pure emotion. That illusion was shattered when reports started coming in from the other sites. Similar incidents were happening all over the world, and within a few weeks it wasn't just limited to SPC personnel. These arms were made for punching, and that's just what they did.
As time went on, it became harder for us to fight the itch. Punching bags were laughable at that point, so instead we invented punching blocks out of a titanium-concrete composite. Even fashioned them into the shape of selachians to help take the pain away, but it still wasn’t enough. Whenever we came close to a cure, someone would end up atomizing the equipment with a flick of the wrist and we'd have to start over.
Eventually, one day I walked into the cafeteria and found the floor covered in what must have been two inches of blood. I thought maybe a pipe had burst until I saw Bühler sitting on a table in the corner. Guy was slathered in viscera from top to bottom, and he was wearing human heads around his arms like they were snap bracelets. I asked if he wanted to talk, but he didn't answer. He just stared at his fists and trembled. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was dead, hole in his beefy chest so big I coulda driven my Grampy's Volvo through it.
That was what broke me, I think. I had never seen someone self-pugilate before. I didn't know how many people were still alive in Site-71, but I knew that I would not perpetuate the carnage. I gathered some medical supplies from the surgical augmentations lab and tied a tourniquet around my burgeoning, well-defined bicep. Carefully, I injected myself with the nearest substance that resembled an anesthetic and bid my guns goodbye.
Screaming, writhing, I hacked off my arm using only a pair of rusty toenail clippers. Needless to say, I was dizzy from pain, blood loss, and the 5 CCs of green apple daiquiri I'd injected myself with, but somehow I managed to drag myself back to the cafeteria to cauterize my stump in the kitchen's oven. Barely clinging to consciousness, I set the oven to preheat, wrapped my stump in a tent of foil, and stuck it inside, turning regularly to promote an even cauter and applying a light baste to keep it moist.
When the bleeding stopped, I went back and repeated the process with my other arm. The second time was harder, I think. With no free hands remaining, I was forced to grip the toenail clippers with my teeth. I also ran out of baste. It was the most agonizing experience I could ever possibly fathom, but here I am. Alive. My cannonball deltoids still ripple with pugilistic vigor now and then, but the stubs are too short to be lethal.
And that's it. That's my story. That's how I ended up here, barricaded alone in an underground facility, typing on a keyboard with my tongue. I haven't been able to get in touch with any other Centre sites, and I can't leave the building. Every day I lose a little more hope. My personal hygiene has suffered, too—partly because I can't look at a pair of clippers without bursting into tears. My toenails are getting really long now. I'll probably have to use a pair of scissors or something. I could even use that electric carving knife I got for my birthday. Hell, I think there's a chainsaw in the supply closet. No shortage of options, really.
Even if I'm alive now, there's no telling how long that will last. Sometimes I hear people punching on the reinforced doors, desperate to break in and claim another victim to slake their drunken punchlust. Someday they may succeed. There's enough food left around to keep me going a while, though just for a while. I've kept my mind occupied and my spirits up by watching Dr. Cavender's Walking Dead box sets, but I can feel that post-Season-Six quality drop looming just around the corner.
Maybe this was their plan all along. Maybe they just left the planet, knowing full well we'd destroy ourselves. Maybe when the last human has passed their final breath, the selachians will return from wherever they went and feast on our tight, sculpted corpses. Or maybe they're happier where they are now. Maybe they're not coming back. I hope that's not the case. As much as it pains me to say it: I miss them.
I miss sharks.
[23:19] DrTsega: With all the squats I've been doing, I could probably pop their heads between my fucking thighs.
[23:20] DrTsega: pop 'em just like cherries. hell yeah
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mind of mine masterlist
summary: jungkook convinces you to take a staycation with him for a few days (a week).
pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc
warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, oc and jk discuss their unprotected sex practices, vomiting, some jealous jk, mild exhibitionism, fingers in oc's mouth grinding, making out, oral (m), titjob
word count: 7k
a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. also...cant believe mom manifested into butter jk im in pain
Jungkook is unsurprised to enter your home with the key you’d given him the other week and find it completely empty. You’ve been working early mornings and incredibly late nights for the last week and a half, and he can tell it’s beginning to take a toll on you. The first sign that you were beginning to wear down was when you had skipped dinner in favor of sleeping. The second was when you had snapped at him in irritation and then immediately cried over hurting his feelings.
He can think of about a dozen other things, including the even more pronounced bags under your eyes. You’ve always had dark circles under your eyes naturally from hyperpigmentation but these days, not even concealer can help you mask them.
In fact, the reason that you’d even given him a key was because you felt like work was taking over your entire life. You’d hardly had a chance to see anyone who wasn’t a work colleague, and you just missed Jungkook. At least this way, you could wake up and go to bed with him.
You had only been calling Jungkook your partner just shy of four months, and he had a key to your home. Perhaps it was fast for other people, but with him, it felt right. So he keeps a copy of your keys on his lanyard- it’s possibly his most prized possession right now. Jungkook usually only comes when you ask him to, he’s been staying at your place for the last week because of how tired and busy you were.
Usually you stop by the tattoo parlor at least once or twice a week, but you have been sparse because of work. So he’s here, in your home without you. It felt strange the first few times he’d been here without you, but then he started leaving little pockets of himself- his shoes next to yours, his hair product on your shelf, and his two of his jackets hanging near yours in the closet. He’d even purchased a new plant to keep on your windowsill in your living room (which you take turns dutifully watering and making sure she gets enough sunlight).
It’s all very domestic. He had jokingly told you not to expose him to your shared friends, specifically Mina and Mei. To which you had rolled your eyes.
Though some small, very small, part of him wonders if the magic will fade away soon. Considering how fast you both are moving both physically into your home and in your relationship.
It’s only been a few months, and you both were incredibly comfortable with the idea of unprotected sex- after all, Jungkook always pulls out in time. Until, of course, you’d had a pregnancy scare. Hoseok and Yoongi, ever the pair of realists, had scolded him when Jungkook had revealed that you both hardly ever used any protection-
“Are you trying to knock her up? Is that it? You both ready to potentially be parents?” Yoongi says mildly as he polishes off his wine, looking at Jungkook expectantly. Jungkook’s cheeks burn.
“No, I’m not trying to knock her up and no, nobody’s trying to be parents-”
“You both are lucky you haven’t knocked her up already,” Hoseok says, with more heat in his voice, “You both are fucking stupid, but you especially.” He even smacks the back of his head with the book in his hands and Jungkook glares at him.
“Hey, my pull out game has always been strong, and I’m serious about her. We wouldn’t fuck raw if-”
“Oh, yes, then we definitely have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi says, “Keep it moving, Hobi.
“Talk to her about it, or else,” Hoseok threatens, “I don’t wanna hear about another pregnancy scare because you’re both idiots.”
“I know, I know,” Jungkook relents, “We’ve been talking about it. It just sucks that birth control can fuck up a woman’s body like that, you know? Mood changes and appetite changes, nausea and everything…”
“You could always get a vasectomy,” Yoongi says bluntly.
“Mei said the same thing. She was way more mean about it, though. Told me she’d cut my balls off if I didn’t get my shit together.”
“I don’t blame her, considering what a mess you both were last month.”
“We were not a mess!”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so stressed ever in your life, not even when your first bike got run over by a car. Or when your tattoo got infected three consecutive times. And I’ve never seen her cry so much before.”
“Alright, maybe we’re a little bit of a mess.”
In the end, you and Jungkook had both decided that yes, condoms were probably a good idea. Considering the pregnancy scare you had last month, you both were on edge and a little paranoid. Jungkook hadn’t even mentioned the idea of you taking birth control or getting an IUD, knowing that your last few experiences with the former were unpleasant-
“I can get a vasectomy, you know. In fact, Yoongi suggested it,” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly but your jaw drops.
“Jungkook. I don’t think vasectomies are reversible like that. Think about what you’re saying,” You murmur, “I’m touched you’d consider a surgical procedure so I don’t have to take birth control, but what if-”
“I looked it up, they can be reversed-”
“But Jungkook! You don’t know that, what if you want to have kids later and you can’t because you decided on a fucking whim to get a vasectomy? It’s still trauma on your body! You can’t just snip snap, snip snap your vas deferens tube whenever you please. At least with birth control you can start and stop it, even if that’s not a completely benign process.”
Jungkook looks at you long and hard, his tongue poking his cheek and you sigh. “But I don’t-”
“Honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness,” You murmur, squeezing his hands in yours, “But we’re both being stupid. We’re both acting like condoms don’t exist. Why don’t we start with condoms and then think about getting your tubes tied or me getting an IUD?”
“You spoiled me,” Jungkook complains dramatically and drops his head to your chest, “With your pussy. I’m spoiled now.”
And so now, a box of condoms sits in the drawer of your nightstand and you’ve taken to bringing a few with you in your purse as well (and so does he). You’d been far more nervous buying condoms than you’d ever been of buying anything else, and Jungkook had only cockily grinned at you.
Today’s Friday and it’s the day of your deadline. Meaning that you’d hopefully be home soon and be his for the rest of the weekend. He fully plans on getting you to relax and stay in for the majority of the weekend, so that you can catch up on sleep.
But then you come home past dinner (you had sent him a text earlier telling him that you were going to be late. He knows your mood is sour- you had been in a foul mood all week, and the fact that you’re so close to being home but so far just makes it worse). You come home with an empty belly, a weary mind and wetness along your lash line. Climbing into bed next to him, you circle your arms around his waist and cry tiredly into his chest.
“J-Jungkook,” You hiccup, “I’m so tired, they kept me s-so late today but it’s done. Everything is finished-”
“Oh, baby,” He sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “It’s okay. We can just sleep now. You should take a few days off next week, baby.”
“I don’t know…” But your eyes are wide and considering it.
“You’ve been running on empty all week,” Jungkook points out, “For longer than that. Your job can handle two or three days without you while you recharge. Text your boss, baby. You need to rest, too.”
He nudges your cheek with his nose and you hum in agreement. “Okay. Five day weekend? Sure you won’t get tired of me?” You murmur and laugh when he squeezes your waist.
“We can make it a staycation.”
And you’re already texting your boss, telling her that you needed a few days off next week. She gives you a thumbs up and encourages you to rest up, making it a point to recognize how hard you’ve been working. She even suggests you take the full week off, which you jump at and Jungkook only grins at you.
“My brilliant girl, charming her way into a full week off.”
You swat his hand away and hide your burning but satisfied face in his chest. “Yeah, your bad habits are rubbing off on me.”
“Oh, that’s not the only thing rubbing off on you,” Jungkook says wickedly and pushes his hips into yours, earning a fierce pinch to his bare waist.
“Hush, I’m trying to nap,” You mumble, your voice muffled. Without warning, you lick his neck and bite lightly at the base of his neck, ignoring his soft yelp. He doesn’t have a chance to question you on what that was, as you’re already falling asleep.
You’ve always thought from the beginning, even when you and Jungkook were just friends, that he was an ass man. You’ve caught him staring at your ass many, many times- in jeans, in a dress, in a skirt. And now that you both are officially together, he spends any and every moment he can with a hand on your ass. Casually, when you both walk side by side. And purposefully when you’re both just in his bed or on your couch. His hand is a well known presence on your ass, not that you’re complaining.
One of Jungkook’s favorite places to nap is on your ass, with his cheek pressed into you and one hand firmly gripping your ass. He also likes laying with his head on your lap. But his favorite place to nap is with his head buried in your chest, specifically buried in between your tits. He is currently analyzing his hypothesis that your right tit is smaller than your left, a thought he’s had for a while now, but needs further samples of evidence to properly assess.
But he’s always had an affinity for your tits, whether you’re blissfully unaware of it or not. You don’t notice it not really- you like any and all of his touches on any inch of your skin, as you’ve told him many times before. Especially when he holds you close next to him or under him and you feel protected, surrounded by only him.
He holds you, looks at you as if you’re as soothing as the sea and as bright as a supernova. And yet, the universe is contained in his big, doe eyes.
But really, at the end of the day, it’s an affinity for you. Jungkook loves every part of your mind, body, and soul, and he thinks he has for a long time. His heart has been tangled with yours since the first time he had seen you years ago at Hobi’s surprise birthday party that you had planned. Jungkook is sure that when he had seen you with a homemade red velvet cheesecake with a ‘Happy Birthday Hobi <3’ written perfectly in red icing in your arms, a silly party hat on your head, and a shy, beaming smile on your lips, he had been magnetized to your center of gravity from then on.
But even then, he had only hovered. Barely introducing himself, if it weren’t for Mina and Mei. He thought he had known girls like you- girls who baked cakes, planned elaborate birthday parties for their friends and wore flowery dresses liked other predictable people. It’s another one of his hypotheses (which has been clearly debunked)- but by now, he knows not to be so judgmental of others.
But he doesn’t dwell on that for long. Even the first time he met you, right after he had introduced himself to you and you had stared at him with starstruck eyes and stammered a quiet ‘hello’ in return, Sora had cornered him. And told him to back off from right then, that you were off limits. That you’d never be interested in a guy like him, so to not even spend a second in his stupid little mind even entertaining the ridiculous idea.
So he backed off subconsciously, thinking it wasn’t worth it to even know you as a friend. He’d convinced himself that it was too much trouble, and Jungkook has always been an easygoing kind of guy in most instances. After all, your best friend would know you best, right? And really, what did he care? As the saying goes, there were about a million other fish in the sea.
However. Even then, with each word uttered between you both, with each laugh that he pulled from your soft mouth, he couldn’t help the reluctant fondness for you that began to bloom. You had surprised him every few months after that, just saying hello at events that you were both present at and asking how he was. With that stupidly beautiful smile and those bright, shy eyes.
You were a smart, kind woman, always remembering details about others. And he was no exception.
That was years ago. He’s known you since your third year at university, hanging by a thread just outside your orbit. But this is now.
This is now, and your lips are against his neck, your chest pressed to his. You climb into his lap haphazardly, nearly knocking your mug off of the coffee table. You both have only just woken up and stumbled out of bed for coffee and breakfast. You had combed the tangles out of his bedhead with his head in your lap, but now sleepiness has washed away and you’re tugging at his oversized shirt.
You promptly bite him, right where his neck tattoo starts and ends. Jungkook meets your eyes with an incredulous, breathy laugh. “What’s gotten into you?” He murmurs, palming your chest from under your shirt.
“Nothing. You just have a very biteable neck, I told you,” You say, resuming your inspection of the vein next to his tattoo, “What a juicy jugular vein-”
Jungkook holds your wrist and flips you so that your back is on the couch. “My sexy vampire girlfriend. Love when she starts talking about my jugular vein.”
“Watch out, I might drink from it. You never know,” You giggle with a wink, squirming in his grip.
“You can do whatever you want,” Jungkook murmurs but then an idea that has been planted in his head for weeks now spills from his lips without him meaning to, “I wanna fuck your tits, baby.”
Your eyes go comically wide, mimicking Jungkook’s own. His cheeks are a little pink from his abrupt confession as silence falls between you both.
“That’s really interesting,” You muse.
“Is it?” He asks, feeling a little lightheaded. You tug a little at his purple locks to pull him down to you.
“Yeah. Always thought you liked booty. And legs,” You shrug, “But I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised.”
Jungkook’s throat is too dry for him to reply coherently. But he finds his voice after you give him a reassuring smile, “Uh, when it’s you, I like everything.”
“Me too. When it’s you, I like everything,” You mumble, heat rising in your cheeks, “And uh… you can. Do that I mean.”
“Do what?” He asks teasingly, tilting his head to the side.
“Don’t play dumb,” You whine, shoving his shoulder.
“C’mon say it,” Jungkook jeers, not unkindly, “Put your big girl panties on.”
“I hate you,” You sigh dramatically, “Fine. You can fuck my tits, if you so desire.” His face splits into a grin as he thumbs your chin and ducks his head into your neck. He playfully nips at your skin, murmuring that he’s just giving you a taste of your own medicine, but you feel his half hard cock pressing against your thigh.
The image of his cock wet and slick between your tits is now imprinted in your mind, and when both of you want something, you’ll surely get it.
Despite your eagerness of making Jungkook’s wish a reality, neither of you have had the chance for your usual shenanigans just yet. You still have quite a few days of your staycation left, so you won’t rush it. You had spent most of the first two days sleeping, cuddling, spooning, eating and lots and lots of slow sex.
You think you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve left your bed. Jungkook has been nothing short of wonderful, bringing you food (just this once, you hate eating while in bed), giving you shoulder rubs and booty rubs without you asking. Your favorite ice cream is in your freezer. Life is good.
His shirt hangs off of your shoulder and you’re too lazy to fix it. In fact you’re too lazy for pajama bottoms, only settling on your favorite pair of comfortable panties (nothing flashy. Just a standard black cotton panty) to wear under your shirt. One might even call them granny panties or whatever, but lace was uncomfortable on your skin. Lace and thongs are for very, very special occasions (hardly if ever) and you are in the comfort of your own home. You’ll be comfortable if it’s the last thing you do.
In fact, you’re too lazy to even raise your head to pucker your lips for a kiss from Jungkook. You only open your arms and hum, as if he’s supposed to telepathically know what you want from him. But he does, and he flops onto you once he tugs his shirt off. Jungkook’s face remains buried in your chest as you gently rub his scalp.
He hums happily, nearly purring at your touch and shoves himself closer into your hold. You can’t believe this man, the man who mildly intimidated you for years, is now in your arms and purring like a baby kitten. He’s admitted a few times that his scalp has been irritated and inflamed ever since he dyed his hair purple. One of his favorite things is to lay in your lap while you massage a mix of coconut oil and peppermint oil into his scalp.
He looks up at you, warm heat blazing in his eyes. You’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about but he palms your pussy from under your shirt- your still swollen, puffy pussy from the four times he’s made you cum already.
“Can I help you, Jungkook,” You ask flatly, but your poker face breaks when he dots you with kisses up and down your thighs.
“Yeah, fuck,” Jungkook groans, voice slowing to a whine, “I’m still hard, baby, fuck. Help me.”
“How are you still hard,” You wonder with a grin, “Damn, Jeon. You must really like me, huh?”
“If that wasn’t obvious then I’m clearly not doing something right here,” He breathes into your skin.
“Gimme a kiss then,” You murmur, pushing his long hair behind his ear. His eyebrow piercing glints in the light of your bedroom and you trace it gently with your fingertips. Jungkook desperately pushes his lips to yours, parting your lips easily and slipping his tongue into your mouth. He kisses your teeth hungrily, strands of his hair brushing against your cheeks.
His hips roll into yours impatiently, hands already pawing at your shirt. The air in your bedroom is suddenly so stifling, thick and nearly choking you both with the intensity of your desire. You just want him to feel good with you.
“Jungkook,” You say softly with warm cheeks, “You can use me, however you want. Tell me what you want, bunny.”
He lets out a quiet gasp, his eyes bright and wide.
You’re both on the same page, because he’s scrambling to chuck his boxers to the side and you’re tossing your shirt on top of his boxers.
“Fuuuck,” Jungkook groans. He’s breathless, heart racing erratically. All he can do is hold your shoulders as he watches with a piercing, hazy gaze as his cock is swallowed in between your tits. You squeeze them tightly together, trying to create as much friction as you can for him.
“Fuck,” He whines, “Fuck, you look so good, baby. O-oh, shit, my pretty baby, you’re pretty-”
Jungkook nearly cums when you mischievously stick your tongue out to brush against the head of his leaking cock. The visual is almost too much for him and his breaths are choked, strangled as he forces himself to look into your dark eyes.
“So big, bunny, look,” You say softly, “You like this? You’re so hot like this…”
He’s nearly in tears, eyes shining and wet at how good this feels. If your pussy was a slice of heaven, then your tits were the next best thing. You moan softly, feeling your own wetness and heat pooling. Jungkook’s cheeks and chest are flushed, eyes wild and wet as he slides his cock in between the valley of your tits languidly. Almost as if he doesn’t want the moment to end.
You’re so warm, warm everywhere.
His muscles are tense, the furrow in his brow beginning to appear when he’s about to cum. “Shit, baby, oh my god, I love your tits,” Jungkook moans, tossing his head back, “Fuck, I love everything about you-”
You don’t know how he’s able to form coherent sentences to you when he’s this close to cumming. But he’s always been a man of many talents.
“You know what I just realized,” You gasp suddenly, “Neither of us made it official that we’re dating. Like I never asked you ‘out’ and you never asked me ‘out’-”
“Fuck, you talk too much,” Jungkook nearly snarls, “My cock is literally in between your tits and I’m about to fucking cum all over you and you think I belong to anyone else?”
You swallow thickly, Jungkook narrowing his eyes at you. He looks intimidating and intense above you, his powerful, golden thighs straddling either side of you.
“N-no, I was just-”
Jungkook shoots you a glare, reaches behind him and gathers your wetness with two fingers. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to shut you up. You send him a glare right back, but it melts away quickly when you swirl your tongue and suck on his digits.
He cums without warning, hastily and with a broken sort of sound ripping from his throat. It’s warm and sticky as it lands on your chest and your cheek. But he cums so much and much to your chagrin some of his cum gets in your eye and you nearly shriek at the burn.
“Jungkook! What the hell, your cum is in my fucking eyeball-”
He’s still panting above you, like some sort of golden boy, and it takes him a few seconds to register your irritation. “Oh shit,” Jungkook says and jumps into action. He tugs you into the bathroom to gently wash your eye for you (after washing his own hands), with you grumbling the entire time.
“I’m sorry, baby,” He says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. You roll your eyes and demand to be taken back to bed and lavished in kisses as penance for his cum shooting into your eye.
Jungkook tastes himself a little when his tongue slips into your mouth, but it hardly registers as he rolls on top of you, caging you in between his arms.
Jungkook fleetingly thinks he should’ve spent more time trying to convince you to stay home with him. Maybe with a few soft, long kisses to your neck, he might have. You looked delectable, good enough to eat- your dress fitted around your hips, nails, hair, and makeup done, the scent of your perfume subtle but not irritating to his sensitive nose.
You had asked him to pick what jewelry to wear, so one of his long necklaces sitting around your neck and disappearing into the valley of your chest. It doesn’t really match with your dress, but you don’t care.
And Jungkook… well, it was difficult for you to keep your hands off of him as well. His hair is tied back into a neat ponytail, he’s wearing a sequined black (fitted) button up with the top four buttons undone, a thick, silver chain and ripped, black jeans. Your eyes are glued to his chest and he knows it- you can’t help but grip his arm, his bicep whenever you can.
Neither of you really enjoyed the club scene, but you had wanted to go out since it had been a really long time and after all, you were on your staycation. Mei had planted the idea in your head, and so now here Jungkook was.
Here he was, catching flashes off the satin, coral colored wrap dress that you were encased in. For someone who doesn’t like the scene, you blend in effortlessly. But you’re a grown woman, so he takes his eyes off of you and orders a round of shots for him, Jimin, Taehyung and Jin while nursing a bottle of soju.
In the midst of the thumping bass bouncing off of the walls in the club, you’re only aware of you and Mei while you both sing along to whatever song is blasting through the club. Mina disappeared a while ago, presumably to find Jimin.
You’re holding two drinks, one in each hand, and all you feel is the vibrations of the club. Along with your own drunkenness. Mei holds your arm to keep you steady as you move your hips in time with hers. You laugh loudly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders at something she said. Everything is amplified and muted at the same time, the swirl of alcohol settling comfortably in your veins.
You’re having a great time with your friends, dancing, swirling, singing and drinking. It’s a nice night to unwind, in the company of dear friends and strangers.
“Hey,” Mei murmurs in your ear, “I gotta pee and I’m gonna go find Seulgi-”
“You can just say that you wanna go find her,” You giggle, “Don’t blame your bladder on it, Mei.”
“Oh, you’re funny. I’ll text Jungkook and tell him to come find you, alright?” Mei says, patting your head. You nod and tell her to go find her girl, and she does. Leaving you to your own devices for a bit, at least until Jungkook makes his way to you.
However, what neither of you realize is that the cell reception in this building is terrible. Mei’s text never goes through and you stay in your bubble, with your two drinks in your hands and bounce along to the music.
You’re not sure how much time goes by, but it feels like you’ve been alone for quite a while. You squint your eyes at your phone to check the time and send a text to Jungkook. A text that never goes through. You frown and are about to turn on your heel to link up with your man (wherever he might be), but you hear a surprised call of your name.
It’s hard to keep the incredulity out of your face when you come face to face with Yunho, the man who had stood you up all those months ago. The air has almost been punched out of your lungs, and you have to squint at him to believe what you’re seeing.
He calls your name again, giving you a wave and a bright smile. “Funny seeing you here, huh?”
“Can I buy you a drink? I feel like I owe it to you after…” His eyes are sincere. At least you think so, with your drunk goggles on.
“I don’t know, Yunho, it’s okay…” You mumble unsurely, “Isn’t this weird?”
“It’s only weird if we make it weird,” Yunho says and pulls a chuckle out of you.
“Oh, alright. I guess a drink won’t hurt,” You shrug and lead the way to the bar. The least he can do for you after standing you up and hurting your feelings is buy you a drink, you think.
“Hey listen, I owe you an apology,” Yunho says, sliding your drink towards you.
“Oh, it’s- it was a long time ago,” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. Sure, it was a hit to your ego, but in hindsight it doesn’t matter. Not when you have Jungkook. Honestly, you’ve forgotten that Yunho had even been a blip in your radar once upon a time. It was only because of Sora, anyway.
“I had something urgent come up last minute that day and I asked Sora to tell you,” Yunho continues, “I’m sorry I didn’t follow up or even reach out to you after. But I’d heard that you were with Jeon now, so didn’t want to… overstep, I guess.”
And even through your drunken haze, you understand. You sigh deeply, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“Oh boy,” You groan, “Sora never told me about that but we’re not close anymore, Yunho. It’s okay, I understand. I’m sorry she got you, too.”
Yunho’s lips part in surprise, “She didn’t… Alright. What’s done is done, I guess.”
“Yeah,” You murmur airily, “And yes, I am with Jeon. Though I can’t seem to find him…”
“I’m happy to keep you company until you do.”
Despite how well you and Yunho seem to hit it off (most of your time spent bitching about Sora), you can’t help but think of Jungkook. You quite miss him, not having seen him all night in the club. You want to dance with him, and little do you know that he’s been scouring the entire club for you in a frenzy once he ran into Mei and Mina and hadn’t seen you with them.
He had sent them a glare, his jaw clenched and walked away to find you. So when his eyes finally land on you at the bar, after about twenty-five minutes of searching and trying to get through strings of people around you, his heart soars. But he sees you laughing with someone else at the bar. With Yunho.
Jealousy is petty, he tells himself. But he struggles to keep it at bay as it rears its head and comforts him. He’s always been protective and possessive of those he loves and cherishes. You’re definitely no exception.
You wobble a little on your feet, but you hold your own. Even from here, he can see the drunkenness of your smile, beads of sweat as they race down your neck to hide in the valley of your breasts. He zeroes in on your necklace (his) around your neck and reminds himself. It’s his necklace that you’re wearing, after all.
Then why is the man who stood you up all those months ago making you laugh like that?
You must have a sixth sense or something for him, because you turn your head a bit as if you can sense him. Your entire face lights up when you see him, in a way that makes his tough heart swell in adoration.
You make your way over to him with your drink and peck his lips chastely, despite his desire to pull you into his arms and kiss you long enough that your knees buckle. So that Yunho sees that he is yours.
“You disappeared on me, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, adjusting your necklace. He’s gripping it tightly, but you don’t notice.
“I was with Yunho, remember him? ‘Member, he stood me up but he didn’t because it was Sora’s fault-”
“That’s no surprise,” Jungkook says, rolling his eyes. You take his hand, squeezing and introduce him to Yunho. As if he doesn’t know him already. Jungkook’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his jaw clenched. He doesn’t like how Yunho looks at you, how his gaze lingers on your skin and the curves of your dress. You lean against Jungkook heavily, absently playing with his fingers. You stay mostly quiet, sipping your drink as the two men speak (rather tersely).
Jungkook knows he’s being ridiculous.
“Kook, finish my drink?” You murmur, offering him the glass. Jungkook maintains eye contact with Yunho as he downs the remainder of your drink in a few solid gulps.
“Was nice to see you, Yunho,” You say, “I think Jimin and Mina are looking for us, Jungkook. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
With that Jungkook firmly holds your waist, keeping you close to him. You both know that neither Jimin nor Mina are looking for either of you. You’d only wanted to be alone with Jungkook.
So Jungkook leads you to a spot where he knows Yunho can visibly see you both. You let loose, giggling as Jungkook twirls you easily and moving your arms to match the beat of the music. He makes you laugh with his moves, winking at you and shooting finger guns at you as he twirls and swivels around you. He’s always been a great dancer, you realize. That’s funny, because you’re sometimes clumsy on your own two feet. He pulls you into him, his chest to your back and his hips pressed against your ass. You sigh contentedly, head lolling against his shoulder and you rest your hand over his hand to let him lead you.
His nose is buried in your neck, lips lightly brushing your pulse. He bites your earlobe gently, earning a soft laugh from you. Jungkook tilts your jaw to the side to meet your eyes and plants a deep kiss to your glossy lips. He holds you steady when your knees weaken, your belly flipping at the intensity that he pours into you.
Jungkook is all around you, encasing you within his arms and there’s not a single place you’d rather be. When you pull away for air, you thumb away your gloss on his bottom lip and bite his bottom lip gently.
“I adore you,” You say dreamily, “You are so… Everything. Everything. I adore you.”
Jungkook’s cheeks burn, but he ducks his head for another sharp kiss. And if Yunho is watching him shove his tongue down your throat and holding your hips to his possessively then that’s fine by him.
The journey back home is a quick one (after you both stop for fried noodles, despite the inevitable heartburn it’ll give you both the next day but you’re both so hungry). You both stumble into your home in a mess of giggles and groping, nearly falling to the floor due to your clumsiness.
Jungkook has been hard since he kissed you in the club, in front of Yunho. He knew Yunho had been watching, feeling the man’s eyes on you both the entire time. His jealousy has crawled back into the box that it was unleashed from, but he knows that’s something to revisit later.
Something else to revisit is that he liked that someone else was watching him with you. He stores that information for later, instead focusing on keeping you upright from falling.
Somehow, through your blurry vision and wobbly legs, you get on your knees and palm Jungkook’s cock through his pants. A shameless moan rips through you- any and every inch of him makes you dizzy with desire.
You like him so much that it nearly makes you cry.
“Gonna blow you now,” You announce happily, fumbling with the button of his jeans and using all of your concentration and strength to pull his pants down along with his boxers. You sloppily kiss your way down his chest, spending extra time on his tattoo and licking (then biting) his happy trail before humming around his leaking cock.
He’s so wet already, and it’s all because of you.
Jungkook groans, eyes closing in pleasure as your pretty mouth wraps around his cock. He thrusts lightly into your mouth, peeling his eyes open to watch you. Only to find you already staring up at him, your makeup smudged and tears already forming in your pretty eyes. He cradles your cheek affectionately, stroking your cheekbone-
But before he can compliment you, softly praise you, he hears a noise. It originates from the back of your throat, something both familiar and unfamiliar. You gag uncontrollably around his cock, and while it’s certainly not the first time it’s happened, it’s different this time. Because you’re a little drunk. So he should be unsurprised when you retch on his cock, pull yourself off of him before your drunk self can get any more vomit on his cock and sprint into your bathroom.
You manage to lock the door in your frenzy of utter humiliation and alcohol addled mind. You hover over the toilet bowl, the sounds of you throwing up bouncing off of the walls. You’re crying, sobbing more like it- from both the pain in your chest from vomiting violently into the toilet bowl coupled with the humiliation of quite literally throwing up on your boyfriend’s cock.
You groan and squeeze your eyes shut, as if that’ll erase the memory.
“Baby,” Jungkook calls softly, his cock fully hanging out in the open, “Baby, please open the door. It’s not a big deal, but I need to wash my dick off.”
You let out a choked, watery laugh at that and move to flush the toilet and rinse your mouth out. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment when you unlock your bathroom door, and you can’t bear to look Jungkook in the eye. But he holds your wrist to his when you try to escape into the safety of your bedroom.
Your heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of your chest, heat flooding your ears in shame. It feels like your head is empty, static filling up the spaces that the silence between you both doesn’t.
“It’s just me,” Jungkook coos, “Do you want to shower with me?”
“Jungkook, ‘m absolutely mortified,” You say flatly, voice a little high in pitch as fresh tears burning behind your eyelids, “I want to evaporate from this plane of existence in about three-point-four seconds, I literally threw up on your penis, I’m so sorry. Don’t even look at me-”
Jungkook winces at your tone and the way your shoulders are hunched, hands gripping the hem of your dress unsurely.
“Baby,” Jungkook sighs, “It’s really okay, there’s nothing to apologize for. Come shower. The vomit is drying on my dick-”
But that’s the wrong thing to say because you start to cry immediately, shoving your face in your hands. Jungkook sighs, mentally kicking himself and running a hand through his purple locks. He calls your name softly and pulls you into his arms for a tight hug, despite the drying vomit on his dick, which is hanging out and brushes against your hip. You sniffle, peeking at him with shy eyes and he rubs your back soothingly.
“When I say it’s okay, I mean it,” Jungkook murmurs into your hair, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize how drunk you were. I know you feel embarrassed, but it’s just me, baby.”
He kisses you, despite your protests, and helps you rinse your mouth again. You allow Jungkook to somehow maneuver you into the shower, peeling you out of your clothes. You feel grimy and sticky from the club and you’re grateful for the cool water against your skin. You stand behind Jungkook, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face in between his shoulder blades, letting him wash himself.
“Can I wash you?” You whisper, voice unsure. You feel awful, cheeks burning but still. He nods and you take your body wash and lather him with it, washing his now limp dick gently and swallowing nervously.
“See? Not a big deal,” Jungkook says, coaxes you out of your nervousness, “Lemme wash you, baby.”
And so he does, taking your loofah and gently rubbing your skin. Under the cool spray of water, your nerves slip away with each giggle and kiss that he pulls and plants from your lips. Your eyes are still a little shy, a little slick with alcohol. But it’s just Jungkook, and you’re safe with him.
Jungkook nearly wrestles you to get you to eat something more, after throwing up the remainder of your guts after you both had showered (it was mainly just water and alcohol at this point). You’re nearly falling asleep on his shoulder but he manages to shake you awake for a slice of leftover noodles and two glasses of water. But eventually, he coaxes you into eating with a few kisses, hugs, and shoulder rubs.
Once you both are in bed, Jungkook wraps himself around you, his hands immediately drifting below your sleep shirt to your belly. Your cheeks burn as the events of the night replay in your mind’s eye and you press your face into your pillow with a groan.
“I can’t believe I threw up on your dick a-and you’re so nice a-about it,” You mumble, “You really are everything.”
“Well, what else am I going to do if the girl I like vomits on my dick,” Jungkook murmurs, “Don’t worry about it, baby. It happens.”
“To who? Only to me,” You say sadly, “I drank too much. I’m sorry, Kook-”
“Shhh,” Jungkook says, tightening his arms around you and kissing your forehead, “I promise it’s okay. I promise I’m not looking at you any differently.”
His words make you relax in his hold and you nod. Jungkook tilts your jaw towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You don’t say anything else after that, only allowing your soft, breathy sighs to spill out of your lips and into him with every comforting kiss and every slip of his tongue in your mouth.
He tells you to rest in between kisses, but your eyes are already closed.
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True to his word Bossman calls with an assignment on Monday.
Her name is Ophelia Sarkissian, she’s an extremely powerful CEO of a company called Red Skull International. They look like a good company from the outside, despite the creepy ass name, but if you look a little deeper they have ties to more than one terrorist organization, specifically Hydra.
You know that they’re responsible for a mass murder in South America less than a year ago and while you’re skeptical that killing Ophelia is going to stop RSI from continuing their criminal ways evidence shows she’s not innocent. What you can find is that she was responsible for more than one suspicious disappearance, a murder and at least two robberies.
This is a woman who has a lot of power and isn’t afraid to use it. She’s a dangerous, powerful, person who hides behind a pretty face. After reading all the information you’ve been given you start to work on a plan.
In the middle of your planning you get a text from Bucky, it’s a photo of him on a plan the seat next to him has a sleeping man in it.
-Gotta tell ya sweetheart, my neighbor sucks.-
-You’ve been spoiled I guess.- You text back with a smile on your face.
-I think you should be my permanent travel buddy-
You send back the eye rolling emoji and you get a laughing one back. You love these little moments that you can still have with him. It’ll be a bit harder when you’re out working but if he can do it with his job so can you.
You start following Ophelia that night, scoping out her home and work to see what kind of security she’s got. There’s nothing super concerning, she has decent security at both her house and office. Just systems but you’ll still have to look into what kind they are, you need to know if you can disable them or if they’re harder to get past than just cutting service.
She’s got a driver, a personal assistant, and a few people that work in her house. She doesn’t speak to any of the maids, chef or driver but she does talk to the personal assistant. Maybe you could pay off one of her maids and take their place? You’ve gotta have a plan here, you should be able to take a couple of days to just watch. She doesn’t seem especially observant of what’s going on around her unless it requires her direct attention. She seems like the kind of person who doesn’t take notice of anyone she deems below her, which, while disgusting is incredibly helpful for you.
The next morning you head out early, you don’t know what time she leaves so you get to a coffee shop outside Ophelia’s apartment building around 5:30. You hang out in the shop for an hour, pretending to read a book, then you move to outside her apartment building. You have a beanie low on your head and a fresh coffee in your hands, it’s almost 8:15 and she has to be leaving soon to be on time for work. You still don’t have a concrete plan, you tried hacking into her computer last night but the security was better than you’d been expecting.
“Alright, Ms. Sarkissian we’ll be right up.” You freeze, your eyes stay locked on the cup in your hand but every fiber of your being is focused on that voice. You want to sneak a glance at him but you can’t let him see you. You shift slightly so you’re not facing him anymore, so he can’t see your face. Ophelia has, apparently, upped her security game and your worst nightmare is already happening. You don’t want to be on the opposite side of him but in all honesty it’s probably best that it is you. You don’t kill innocent people and that usually includes bodyguards. Usually.
He’s all business, a blue suit on and a gun in a holster on his side. You’re not surprised that he doesn’t wear his gun on his hip but instead wears it up near his heart.
Of all the security companies in the world she had to pick his, you want to grab his arm, pull him away and tell him to go home. But you know it’s hopeless, he’s not going to listen to you. For all he knows you’re an office admin at a dentist office in Washington DC, why would you be in New York City and would he even listen to you? Your body is buzzing, having him so close, you feel his eyes on you but they seem to just slide past you. Bucky Barnes, standing ten feet away from you, finally gets buzzed into Ophelia’s apartment building.
She must’ve paid the big bucks to get Bucky here, and she must know that you’re coming. Well, not you specifically but someone.
Bucky and his partner disappear into the building and you slip across the street to wait. You’re going to need a few days to come up with a new plan now because Bucky knows your face. Bucky knows more than your face.
You throw away your coffee and make your way to your bike, pulling your hat off and your helmet on you wait. You’re hoping that when she leaves you can slip into her apartment and bug it better, currently you’ve just got one on the outside of her balcony that you’d managed to shoot there last night. You tune into the bug, she’s got the sliding glass door open so she must not be that concerned about being attacked from afar.
You listen while playing on your phone.
“Ms. Sarkissian, I know none of this is easy but we need to know if you have any enemies we should be looking into.” Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the bug.
“I have no idea. I just got this threat in the mail.” You hear some paper rustle, “it showed up yesterday. It says they’ve hired a snake.”
“King Cobra’s crew?” The second male voice asks, one you don’t know.
“They’re a myth.” Bucky says but you know he doesn’t even believe it. You’ll have to let Bossman know that his snakes that are leaving calling cards are going to get him busted.
“They’re not myths.” Ophelia says firmly, like someone who has used Bossman’s services before. You’ll have to ask.
“And you know this how?” Bucky says coolly.
“My father was a snake.” What bullshit. “He was Cobra.” Complete and utter bullshit.
“From what we’ve heard about the snake organization Ms. Sarkissian they aren’t allowed to have families.” Bucky says and you can practically see the cold look in his eyes, “so you wanna try that again? The truth this time?”
“I hired them to look into killing my abusive ex husband.” There it is.
“So why would someone want to kill you Ms. Sarkissian?” Bucky asks tightly.
“Ophelia please.” She purrs and you clench your teeth.
“Ms. Sarkissian,” you can tell his patience is running thin, “this is not the movie The Bodyguard. I am here to protect you until the threat has been found and handled.” Have fun waiting for that Bucky, it’s gonna be a while. “We do not get romantically involved with our clients. Besides, I have a girlfriend and I don’t think she’d like my client getting all handsy with me.”
“She’s a lucky woman, what’s her name?”
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Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -
But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)
Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk
This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd
This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.
THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.
Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎
(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)
Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)
Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns
You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.
They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.
So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.
He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.
You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.
Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.
Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.
You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.
Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.
Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.
Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.
Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.
The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.
You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.
Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.
You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.
The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.
So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.
You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.
When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.
Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.
Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.
It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.
Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.
"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.
You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.
"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?
You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.
It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.
Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.
But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.
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