#also doesn’t help how large their tees are I mean

[idlesana]

dear sana, i know about your affairs

minatozaki sana x fem reader ; angst, open ending, ft. miyeon

summary: your dear sana, dear sana who is caught up in “work” which just so happens to be seeing another woman

cw: cheating, cursing, sexual mentions, not proofread

dear sana, stay safe and healthy throughout work today!

sana smiles, folding the paper and pocketing it, leaving far before the sun could rise.

she wonders for a moment, wonders at what time do you set out these notes so she doesn’t see them until she leaves. the thought quickly wipes her smile, she doesn’t like thinking of you up, not able to sleep, still devoting your time to her— only her. sana frowns.

she shuts the only light on, in the kitchen, making the room glow eerily by only the moon and cityscape lights beaming in through the large window, spread through your living room.

the high rise apartment you and sana got together, or, sana got, insisting you move in with her. her smile reappears at the memories, she feels warm, for some reason. she contemplates shutting the kitchen light off and slipping back into her pajamas, spending the day with you.

ding!

mi : are you on your way, baby?

sana frowns, again. she let’s out a small huff, or groan, or a mix, but nevertheless, leaves the apartment, letting the door shut behind her, making sure to guide the handle to suppress the sound as much as possible.

even if she was cheating, she still cared for your rest, still cared for you.

—

“don’t you think her hours are a bit…?” nayeon trails, leaving the the word she wants to say in thin air, knowing the suspicion she had was valid, but also knowing the declaration of said suspicion could be problematic.

“i mean, she’s a ceo, is she not?”

to be fair, you’ve had the same suspicions, from the exact moment sana started to come home smelling of lilacs and roses instead of her strawberry and peony mixture.

“sure, but, it’s just…” nayeon looks around, chewing on her straw as she lets synonyms bounce around in her head, ultimately settling on, “strange.”

“i- well,” it’s stuttered, your fingers tapping on the table anxiously, now gnawing on your bottom lip, trying to find courage to voice your worries. you don’t want to give in and say that you’ve been thinking this for a while now, because your sana would never, but, this sana may not be yours anymore. you furrow your brows tightly.

you cared about sana, loved her, loved her more than anyone or anything, and you’d never want to doubt her, but, she made it hard. not hard to love her, of course, but hard to hold out hope.

she’s always leaving at the wee hours of morning, leaving you alone until the late, late hours of night.

“you’re right, i’ve been, kinda on edge.” you try and shrug it off, but the bouncing of your leg under the table is a dead giveaway to nayeon, who can feel the shaking of the table.

she runs a hand across the table, cupping it over one of your own, “i’m sure it’s fine, y/n. let’s not worry.”

she smiles, warm and genuine, betraying the blatant lie she tells.

she wasn’t sure it was fine, not one bit.

—

dear sana, i miss you, lots. i feel like we don’t see much of each other these days.

sana surprisingly isn’t leaving when she finds the note, but maybe worse, coming home.

it’s 4 AM and she knows she’s practically caught at this point, all disheveled and sweaty, but she can’t help but sit and stare at the note. she tries to pat down her hair, but there’s not much use, maybe the sloppily tie or crooked buttoning of her shirt was more so the giveaway.

the note still has her frozen, chest tightening with each heave. she wasn’t so sure how much longer she could keep this up— and to make matters worse, she didn’t know if keeping up meant staying with miyeon, or staying with you.

“sana?”

she snaps her head up, lips parted, eyes widened.

you stand, baggy tee, hers, baggy sweats, hers, cute kitty socks, gift from her to you. her heart twists.

you move to rub an eye, sleep still weighing in your movements, her heart stings.

“y/n.” she sticks the note back to the counter, shuffling around the island, taking steady, hesitant steps toward you.

she feels a familiar pressure build in her throat, a burn of tears forming at the back of her eyes.

“oh, y/n.” she stumbles at you, throwing arms around your waist, pulling you into her, feeling your nose tickle her neck just how she likes. the tears almost slip, she’s happy, but also, so, so sad.

you breathe in and out through your mouth, puffing warm air into her, doing so as to not smell the other woman on her. just to have her as yours, even just for the night.

she’s holding you tight, her body shuddering slightly against yours, and you hold her as tight as you can.

“god, y/n, i love you.” you hear the warble in her voice, the shaky inhales and exhales.

“i know. i love you.” you mutter back, pressing a soft kiss to where her neck and jawline meet.

“y/n, i’m s-so sorry.” you can tell she’s crying now, shaking a little harder in your arms. you feel your heart crack, her words confirming your worst fear.

“i know.”

—

you’re occupying space in nayeon and chaeyoung’s apartment, letting them pamper you as sana, is at your shared apartment.

you aren’t sure why, why she took work off, why she isn’t with her mystery woman. but you try to not let it bother you, though, that’s not working too well.

“i don’t really know what to do.” you look down at your lap, fingers toying at the promise ring sana got you.

“i mean, isn’t it obvious? you should-“ chaeyoung smacks a hand over nayeon’s mouth, silencing whatever dumb, unthoughtful remark she had in the makes. nayeon side eyes her, but doesn’t move away, knowing she was deserving of it.

“maybe talk to her, y/n.”

chaeyoung looks unsure, but you’re grateful to her being the wiser between the two girls, despite her being younger. she tries to show remorse in her eyes, and you smile, it’s sad, but you try, for her.

“okay.”

—

you shut the door behind you, for once, it’s you sneaking in late. instead of being sweaty and hot, you’re freezing cold, eyes red and puffy.

you’d taken a lap around your block as soon as you made it home, not sure how to face the inevitable— sana.

one turned to two once you couldn’t stop crying, and now your body is chilled to the touch, all except your face, still flushed from the tears.

you cross to the kitchen, ignorant to the hum of the tv, focused on the way your keys clang on the table. you start to space, and you’re sure it’s from exhaustion, blinking slowing as you stare at the keys, mind somewhere else, for a moment.

maybe you’re trying to settle your mental battle of ‘sana or no sana’, because at this point, it’s not much you fighting for what you want, but you fighting for ways or reasons to keep her— because losing seems beyond inevitable.

“hey.” you blink, once, twice, and definitely quicker than you were before because that isn’t your voice and definitely not in your head.

but you know the voice, you know it too well.

“hi, sana.” you murmur, voice almost getting caught in the atmosphere of the room, but sana hears you, she always does.

she clenched her jaw, nervous before you for the first time since you’d started dating, she’s positioned at your side, but god does she want to be closer.

she opts to lean on the table, hands grasping the edge of it as a way to take out her stress.

“you got home late.” it’s weak, and to you, you can tell sana’s been crying all day, her voice is hoarse and not in the way it is in the mornings, now it just sounds painful to talk.

you look up to her, tears welling in your own eyes again.

because sana, sana always looks so gorgeous, even with red eyes and nose, even when she’s hurting. you want to be mad, you want to ask why she’s crying when she’s the one who cheated, but you know sana would never be so evil.

you gnaw at the inside of your cheek, trying your hardest to keep the tears at your waterline from slipping down your skin.

“yeah, sorry, i was with nayeon.” you push away from the table, crossing your arms before you as you just stare at her. sana’s eyes flicker to something else, and she furrows her brow.

“nayeon? why were you alone with her?” sana’s gripping the table firmer now, jaw visibly clenched and you scoff.

“sana, am i really the person between us who should be getting berated right now? for being out with my friend? at least i’m not fucking someone else right behind my girlfriends back.” it’s a lot, and you’re not sure you said everything right, but it’s fine, you’re emotional, you’re bound to stutter on words. bound to mess up.

you want to move away from sana but her pull is too strong, and that’s when you feel the heat return to your cheek, wet hot slipping down and pooling at your chin.

sana looks as distressed, anger replaced with an unreadable sadness in her eyes. she can’t speak, but her chest is rising and falling quicker with each breath.

you roll your eyes, moving to push through to your room.

“i’m going to bed, sana.” and with that, you cross pass sana, avoiding touching her by any means, to no avail, because she’s grabbing your arm and tugging you into her.

“please don’t leave me.” sana whimpers against you, you still in her arms, feeling her body shake vehemently. your back is to her front, her face nuzzled into your hair as she cries, and suddenly your anger is replaced with worry.

because who were you fooling, you’d never not be loving sana. you turn in her arms, struggling, but nonetheless, wrapping your arms around her as she tugs you closer by the waist.

“please don’t.”

—

the sun leaking through the blinds is what wakes you, not sana’s warmth slipping away from you, which, gives you hope. especially when you feel her arms still possessively wrapped around your torso.

something about it warms your heart, but maybe too much, because you swear it stings a little being with her.

you shift in her arms, trying to move away from her grip, because no matter how good it feels, there’s still that lingering in your heart.

sana groans, tugging you closer into her, still half asleep but muttering “don’t leave”— memories from last night settle in your head.

it only fuels you to pull away more, eventually slipping from her arms, the warmth leaving your body, you can’t tell if you like it more than being in her arms or not. but, that’s a mental battle for you to fight later.

for now, you’ve decided to go out, specifically, back to holding up space in nayeon’s apartment.

—

dear sana, i can’t tell if i love or hate you, or maybe a mix of both. what would i call it when it hurts so badly to be near you, but i’m a masochist?

sana’s sat at the island, atop a stool, fingers caressing the pen ink that was imbedded into the cute pink slip of paper. her mind racing, panicked on the inside but keeping a cool exterior, ignoring the buzz of her phone.

miyeon had been blowing her up since yesterday, unfortunately.

sana was fighting her own mental battle, but, she sorta already knew the outcome. she knew she’d stay with you, the only trial left for her to face was if you’d stay with her.

she moves her eyes for the first time all day, it feels, opting to look at her phone screen, ignorant to all those messages, instead focusing on the time: 8:34 PM.

you should be home soon, she wants you home to her, her heart hurts more thinking how you must’ve felt all those nights.

she groans, letting it echo through the barred apartment, putting her arms before her to rest her head in them, ignoring the discomfort in her spine at the bend.

she shuts her eyes, whining and frustrated, she slips into her thoughts again.

never had she ever regretted something so bad.

—

you got home at 10, sharp. jittering the key in and out of the lock a couple times, struggling with cold fingers. but, once you push inside, you lock eyes to sana, smiling softly, but visibly nervous.

“did you wait for me?” you ask, teasing, but with an underline of mocking, shocked the roles had finally swapped.

“of course.” sana tries to keep her smile up, she’s sleepy, but, nonetheless, willing to stay up longer, willing to for you.

“i’m shocked— you’re not out for once.” you pause when you slip off your shoes, continuing when you stand up, eyes narrowed over sana. you walk toward the island, ending up on the opposite side, facing her.

“i’m no longer seeing her, i haven’t, for some time.”

“since i found out?” you grit your teeth, rolling your eyes at her, but unmoving. sana stays hopeful, only huffing before straightening her posture.

“yeah, since you found out. but, i want to clear it up, clear up things with,” she waves her hands around, “her.”.

you scoff, leaning over the table slightly, head in your palms, “go on.”

“i don’t love her, like i love you. in fact, i don’t care for her at all.”

you mull over what she said in your head, trying to not let the ‘i love you’ get you flushed, trying not to fall for her words, even though you know it’s inevitable.

“by the way, your note is gorgeous. the way you voice your feelings has always been— incredible to me.”

again, you huff, forcing yourself to stand tall at the face of sana’s charms.

“if you don’t love her, by the way, why cheat on me?” you feel a small burning at your eyes, and you know your not long to cry, but you try swallowing it down.

sana stills, unsure on how to answer, because why did she?

“i wish, i wish i could tell you.” sana sighs, new sadness over taking her features, and you can’t bare look at her, looking down at the counter.

you try to blink you tears away, but it only makes things worse when you’re facing down. tears spattering to the marble countertop.

“oh, y/n.” sana mutters, you hear a chair screech soon after, followed by light footsteps, and you brace yourself by clenching the table tighter.

and sana, of course, engulfs you in her arms, tugging you into her, her warmth, her oh so familiar arms that somehow make you feel better, even when crying over her.

“it’s okay, i promise, we can do this.” she mutters into your hair, pressing a small kiss into it, gripping you a little tighter, and you wish you didn’t love the comfort of her touch so bad.

you sob a little harder, throwing your arms around her hopelessly, taking in her perfume, all her now, no longer did she reek of another woman.

“please, stay, we can do this.” sana hums, followed by more quiet whispers of affirmation, and you feel yourself slipping more, because how could you stay away from sana?

she leans down a little, grazing her jaw against your own, the skin to skin making you shudder in her arms.

“i love you, y/n.” she whispers to your ear, warm and right into your ear. you can’t tell if she’s helping or making it harder for you.

“please, stay with me.”

how could you say no to her?

#sana x reader #sana imagines #sana imagine #sana scenarios #sana smut #twice sana #minatozaki sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice imagine #sana angst #twice reactions #twice x fem reader #sana x fem reader

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

you're the one - j. cage

a/n: not proud of where my life has taken me, honestly. but this is for the love of my life, luca. hope you all enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! warnings: kissing, suggestive comments, johnny being like the worlds biggest flirt, nothing too crazy, but definitely a lot of sexual innuendos, teasing, inappropriate workplace relationship, kind of, light angst with a happy ending word count: 3.1k summary: you're johnny cage's assistant babysitter agent, and you're his opposite. and yet, he finds himself unapologetically into you. pairing: johnny cage x gn!reader now playing: you're the one - greta van fleet "you're the one i want/you're the one i need/you're the one i had/come on back to me"

You decide you can never be with Johnny Cage in a dingy bar on a Saturday at 11:19 PM.

You’d been his agent for around three months at this point, and you’re always with him, to the point where it became weird that you know so little about each other. And really, it’s a wonder that you lasted so long given how different you are.

You’re awkward, and there’s no harm in it, but you find yourself standing to the side of every movie set, glancing down to your phone to try and find a reason to send an email to someone to distract yourself.

Your relationship history is far and few between, you’ve only started dressing well recently, and you find yourself struggling in crowds and public speaking terrifies you.

Johnny is electric. He has no problem finessing a crowd, has no problem being the center of attention. He’s just unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

So really, you can’t say you’re shocked when you wake up one day and realize that you have in fact, developed feelings for him. It isn’t a tough thing to do, not when he’s always flirting with you.

After a rather large slump in his career, Johnny’s new movies have been doing well in both the box office and with movie watchers all over the country. Really, you became his agent at the perfect time because right after you started, he really became quite the star. Maybe the change of pace behind the camera worked out rather well.

He sort of feels bad, that you’re constantly with him. He doesn’t know when you sleep, because if he isn’t on set or doing press or getting ready to do either, he’s asleep, but every day when you show up to the set, you have a new agenda for him to follow.

When you do it, while also sleeping, eating, and taking care of your own obligations, he doesn’t know.

But one night, after three months of your help, he asks you to grab a drink with him.

(“This isn’t a ploy to get me alone and drunk is it, Cage?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”)

And that’s how you wound up here. You’re dressed more casually than he’s ever seen you, sporting this old band tee and some rather casual jeans. He can’t stop looking at you, and he’s a little confused about it.

He doesn’t get star struck often, but he has this thought, that maybe in one of Liu Kang’s alternate universes, you two ends up together. Maybe he fixes boats in a coastal town, maybe you work at the diner there, maybe you have a dog together. Maybe, in another universe, you and Johnny have a quiet life, where you don’t have much, but you have each other, and that’s enough.

“So how did someone like you end up in a place like this?” he asks, charmingly. You roll your eyes and take another sip of your beer.

“Well, this asshole I work for—”

“Hey!”

“He asked me out for a drink, and I don’t know if it’s because I felt obligated because he pays me, or because I genuinely wanted to, but I went out with him.”

“You’re so mean to me.”

“You make up for it, always flirting with me.”

“Can’t say you don’t like it, sweetheart—”

“Listen, Cage—"

“But you never answered my question. How’d you end up in Hollywood? We spend all this time together, yet I feel like I barely know my own assistant.”

“Agent.”

“Whatever. Answer the question.”

It’s a loaded one, no doubt, but not one you aren’t willing to answer. You find yourself unable to really keep anything from him, he just needs to know where to look for it, how to interpret it.

“I moved here from home, never

had much of anything—Family, Money, Whatever—Got an internship and before you know it, I’m networking my way to being Johnny Cage’s babysitter—”

“Agent.”

“Whatever.” You shoot back, a goofy grin on your face.

“Okay, let me ask you this,” He poises, “Favorite movie?”

You exhale, finding that a near impossible question.

“Oh, and none of mine! Then, it would be too easy!” He grins, and you shoot him this look.

You have a lot of favorite movies.

You take a few minutes before deciding on one.

“Paddington 2.”

“What?!”

“Paddington 2!”

“You cannot be serious!” He gawks. “Paddington 2 over, what? The Shawshank Redemption? Gladiator? Better than Aliens?!”

You take a minute.

“I’ve never seen Aliens.”

“What?! Big alien, tiny girl, Ripley!” He says the main character’s name in this high pitched, annoying tone.

It makes you burst out laughing, and he just laughs at your laugh.

“Nope, never seen it.”

“Oh my god! How do you work in Hollywood, and you’ve never seen Aliens?”

“Stop asking me if I’ve never seen Aliens, you know what the answer is!”

You both laugh again, and for a moment, it is perfect. There is no one else in the world except you and him, and there’s no reason to feel as if this isn’t real. There’s no reason to deny yourself the rather simple pleasure of admiring him, and there is certainly no reason to stop looking at him like you are right now.

And then this beautiful blonde woman strolls up to him. Even you can admit that she’s gorgeous.

“Excuse me,” Her voice is that of a songbird, “I don’t mean to bother you, but are you Johnny Cage? Like, the actor?”

“Indeed, I am, how can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink. Maybe we can go back to my table?”

You’re full of jealousy. You feel awful for it too, because in no way is Johnny yours.

“Uh, you know what..” He glances back at you, and you give him this weak smile.

“Go, it’s fine. Have fun, it isn’t like this is a date or anything.”

He grins at you and puts a fifty on the bar to pay for your drinks and leave the bartender a rather nice tip.

“You’re the best wingman ever, man! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You finish your drink bitterly as Johnny goes off to flirt with, and eventually sleep with, that nice woman. You take notice that when the two of you are alone, you’re ‘sweetheart’ but when another woman strolls in, you’re ‘man’.

And that’s it. It’s 11:19 PM and in that dingy bar, you decide that you can never be with Johnny Cage. You know it will never be what you want it to be. That if it does happen, it’ll be like it is with this woman. A one-night stand, never to be brought up again. You’ll get him all to yourself for one night, and then after that, he will never be yours again. He’ll go back to being no ones, back to being the spotlights. Back to belonging to everyone, except you.

• • •

To tell you the truth, you snuck up on Johnny. After you made it clear the first day you met that you had no intention of sleeping with him, he sort of wrote you off other than flirting.

And one day he woke up and realized how desperately, horribly in love he is with you.

It happens a few weeks after your night at the bar. You were supposed to spend the night filming an outdoor scene, but it rained so hard that the stunts wouldn’t have been safe, so here you are in his living room. He had sold his mega mansion for something less expensive—Still lavish, but not nearly as expensive.

“So, do you want to go over the script and make those edits that the studio suggested or—”

“Nope.” He comes out of the kitchen holding a big bucket of popcorn. “We’re watching Aliens.”

You sigh and plop the script down on his coffee table.

“Johnny—” you say in this exasperated tone.

“Darling,” He echoes, in that same tone but more sarcastically. What a dick. You can’t help but want him. He sits with you and puts the popcorn between you, as he turns on the TV and brings up the movie. “Say what you want, but you’re my assistant, so you have to do what I say!”

“Agent.”

“Whatever! C’mon, take one night off, just watch this movie with me!”

You glance over to him and sigh. Why do you do the things you do for him? You’ll never know.

“Fine. One movie, and that’s it!” You tell him and curl up on the couch, your hand reaching to the popcorn to grab a fistful.

One thing no one ever told you was how God damn scary this movie was! You aren’t a big gore or horror person, so it takes you by surprise.

It’s really good, though you’d never admit it to Johnny, just fucking scary.

At some point throughout the movie, one of you moved over the popcorn bowl, slowly closing the gap between the two of you.

During a particularly scary scene, you find yourself jumping, right into his side, gripping his arm. Your heart is racing, but you’re so totally glued in.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You gasp, your clutch on his arm growing tighter.

“Pretty cool, right?” He grins, noticing your grip on his arm.

“It’s fine.” He chuckles and shakes his head, leaning back on the couch.

And that was it. He was hooked. He knew how his image had been around Hollywood, and he knew that you saw him as this playboy. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, especially since his divorce.  But he wanted to make a change, wanted you to see the change, but he just couldn’t put his finger on how.

The rain is still pouring when the movie ends, when you finally pull yourself off his arm.

“I should be heading out.”

“What? You can’t drive in this.” He doesn’t want you to leave.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Just stay the night.”

“Johnny, I don’t even have clothes to—”

“I’ll give you some of mine. You can take the bed.”

You pause.

“Don’t think that this means I’ll sleep with you.”

He grins.

“Sleep in the same bed as me? Yeah. Let me do all these dirty things that I—”

You get up and head towards his room.

“I’m not on the clock, I’m not dealing with you.”

He grins and follows you.

“I don’t hear a no in there, hot stuff—”

“I swear to god, Johnny—”

You’re too busy bickering to get much sleep that night.

• • •

The movie comes out in two weeks, so on your agenda for today is fitting him for a new suit. You’re sitting, sipping a rather crisp mimosa when he comes out in this one suit. He does a nice twirl and holds his arms out, expecting approval.

He looks good. Like, good enough that you almost break that rule you made at the bar that night.

It’s been a month since you stayed at his place, and since then, things have just been different. You no longer must watch him go off and flirt with other people, because he seems to have some sort of change of heart.

You grin gently.

You put your drink down and stand up, going over to him and adjusting his tie.

He wears this black suit, except the suit coat is a deep blue velvet that is soft to the touch.

“You look great.” You tell him. He grins.

“Only missing my signature shades, good lookin’. That way you can’t tell when I’m looking at your—”

“Eyes, right, Johnny?”

“And ass.”

You laugh and shake your head, unable to comprehend that you feel anything except great love for that comment.

“So, what are you gonna wear?” He asks.

“What? To where?”

“To the premiere?”

“Johnny, I’m not going to the premiere—”

“You have to! You’re my assistant!”

“Agent!”

“Whatever!” His hands come to the dips of your hips. It’s a little too past platonic. You say nothing. “We need to get you an outfit.”

You groan. You hate shopping for clothes. You hate fancy clothes especially.

“Let me go order this to be tailored, and then we can go shopping for you. I’m thinking either blue, to match me, or gold, to compliment—”

“If I’m going to the premiere, It’ll be quietly behind all the cameras, not—”

“Then come as my date. Not as my agent, not as my assistant, not as my babysitter. As my date.”

“Don’t you want to go with someone pretty?”

He frowns.

“You’re pretty.” He tells you.

“Johnny—”

“No argument on this one, Darlin’, we’re going shopping,” he quickly kisses your forehead and walks off to go get changed and pay for his suit.

So that’s how you find yourself awkwardly fitting into this gold outfit, with black accents and the right curves to fit your body shape just right. It isn’t your body that fits awkwardly into it, it’s you. You’re not used to this level of formality.

“Come on out, sweetheart, I won’t bite!” Johnny calls from outside your dressing room.

“You’re gonna be mean to me!”

He gasps, “I would never!”

You sigh and adjust the outfit before walking back out of the dressing room.

“Don’t laugh—” But he isn’t laughing. He’s just looking at you. “You don’t like it.”

“Nononono—” he says, walking towards you and putting his hands on your shoulders. He smooths out the shoulders of your outfit, his thumb gently rubbing over your collarbone. “You look amazing.”

“I feel like a barbie.”

“You look great.”

“I’m not used to this.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be a natural.”

“Besides, it won’t matter, everyone will be looking at you.”

He hums and shrugs.

“Everyone will be looking at you, I think.”

Your face goes red.

“Johnny!”

“I know you’re uncomfortable, but you do really look amazing, honey.”

You take his word for it.

• • •

When you get to the premiere two weeks later, it’s overwhelming. People are taking photos of you two, yelling his name, asking who you’re wearing. His hand does not leave yours.

“Just relax,” He tells you gently, “Just smile, it’s all you have to do.”

You do your best, trying to focus on the feeling of his arm around you as you pose. He glances down at you, tilting his shades down to the end of his nose. You can just make out his eyes. His hand comes up to your face and tilts your chin up.

He leans in and kisses you, as the crowds around you scream even louder. It occurs to you, at this moment, that he’s only kissing you to get publicity. That maybe he’s just taking advantage of the fact that you could be his mysterious new beaux. That he doesn’t want you, doesn’t want to kiss you, doesn't want anything to do with you.

You kiss back, not having any ability to resist how badly you want him anymore. You don’t care if it’s just for the cameras. You have no desire to pull away from him, no matter how pretend it may be.

When he does pull away, you make your way off the red carpet and into a secluded corner of the room.

“I’m sorry,” he starts.

“It’s okay, I get it, it didn’t mean anything—”

“What are you talking about?”

“…What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry for surprising you so suddenly, it wasn’t where I wanted to do that, but I just.. I couldn’t help myself. You’re looking so good right now..”

“Not where you wanted to do that?”

“I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while.. I just wanted it to be romantic and amazing, like you deserve, but I just couldn't help myself.”

“Like I deserve?”

“You have a lot of questions for someone who just got kissed by me—”

“Ugh, you’re the worst!”

“Does that mean you don’t want me to kiss you again?”

“…No.”

“That’s what I thought,” he leans to kiss you again, and you gladly let him. You only break off the kiss to take his sunglasses off his face, before kissing him again. Now that you had him, the want didn’t dissipate. Especially when you feel his hands on your hips again, and you only lean further into the kiss.

You can’t believe you waited so long to kiss Johnny Cage. Why would you ever deny yourself the right to make out in some quiet corner of a blockbuster movie premiere?

• • •

A week later, you’re sitting in that bar again. This time, you and Johnny have this booth in the back of the bar, and you’re leaning against him while he tries your extremely fruity drink and cringes at how sugary it is.

“I don’t know how you drink this shit.”

“I need to get nice and drunk after the day I had. Boss was being mean.”

“Sounds awful.”

“Yeah but He’s a great kisser, so.”

He grins and presses a kiss to your head. Somehow, He is more comfortable than he has been in a long time, feeling more like himself than he has in… years, maybe.

“It’s getting late, we should get you home soon.”

“Mm, But I like drinking. Besides, when did you become the responsible one?”

“When you ordered that fourth margarita.”

“Touche.” You finish your drink and sigh. “You’re not gonna let me have another, huh?”

“Not tonight, baby.” He says, patting your thigh gently. “C’mon, get up, I’ll go pay our tab and we can get some fresh air.”

You hum and get up, leaning against him as he makes his way to pay, and then you head outside to lean against the wall. Johnny keeps you up right as you try to breathe through the liquor. Then this girl comes up to you, and grins at your boyfriend.

“Are you Johnny Cage?” She asks. He bites back a sigh and smiles to her.

“I am, Hi—”

“I love your movies! Do you want to go grab a drink with me?” she asks, flirtatiously. You’re literally standing there leaning against him, with his arm around your waist.

“I’m sorry, you seem very nice, but I have to get my partner here home.” He says, “Have a nice night.”

She seems a little sad, but she bids you guys goodnight respectfully and heads into the bar.

“Your partner?” You ask, drunk on sugary drinks and love for this man.

“Yeah, they’re pretty nice.” He hums. “A pretty great assistant. An even better kisser.”

You frown.

“Agent!”

“Whatever.”

He leans in and kisses you to shut up before you can argue with him anymore. For once, you don’t mind his interruption.

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x you #johnny cage x y/n #johnny cage x gn!reader #johnny cage fluff #johnny cage angst #johnny cage mk #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #johnny cage love of my life #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 x reader

[hausofmingi]

his good girl - chapter 1

pairing: song mini x stripper!reader

tags: stripper au, smut series

warnings: slight mentions of stalker, bad words (tee hee), dom!mingi, sub!reader, riding, daddydom!mingi, finger sucking, being carried and getting fucked, a bit of physical roughness (reader receiving), degradation but also praise, cum eating (off the floor!), aftercare

wc: 3.8 k

an: so I decided to give the reader a name because that feels more realistic to me as a reader than y/n. I find that sometimes reading "y/n" takes me out of it a little, so lmk if you find this helpful as well! Also, I am a little depraved so right off the bat, this gets very crazy kinky

minors dni!! 18+ only!!

“Where is the red garter belt I let you borrow?” You are racing around your and Lina’s small apartment, trying to prepare for yet another night on the job. 

“I don’t know, I may have left it at the club?” Lina answers from the bathroom. 

Red is his favorite. You don’t want to disappoint. 

“Well great Lina thanks for that, I’m never letting you borrow my shit again.” 

“Love you too!” she calls after you as you leave to go shopping. It’s not like you’re against making another trip to get some new pieces, but why do you always make the same mistake in letting Lina borrow your favorite stuff…

Your’s and Lina’s apartment is in a pretty run down building in an unsafe part of Gangnam, but no matter how shitty it is, its yours and you really want it to feel like home. 

But, that doesn’t mean you don’t feel the pair of eyes watching you as you exit out of your apartment building and walk towards the bus stop. 

You have been noticing that lately, the feeling that someone is watching you. When you leave your house, when you’re at the grocery store, while you’re going on a run. You try and brush it off because this is normal for women and all that, but today, you pay just a little harder attention. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a figure in a black hood (Jacket? Coat? You don’t want to look too hard) standing across the street from your apartment building. You walk a little faster to the bus stop just in case. 

That night, after spending more than you should on new lingerie sets, you and Lina are about to take the stage for your first stage set. It’s almost midnight, which is usually the time he makes his appearance. 

You always get butterflies, but not the stage fright normal kind of butterflies, the kind that make your clit perk up and your nipples harden. 

Why do you always get so worked up over a man who hasn’t even fucked you?, you think as you make your way up to the stage. 

You really have become quite the pro at this. After 4 years of working for this club, your boss has dubbed you his favorite girl. Doyeon always protects you and gives you the most popular customers, knowing you will always keep them coming back. 

You always thought it felt nice to be appreciated, especially knowing he didn’t have any intentions of coming onto you, on account of he’s a flaming fruitcake.

Its a good ways into your set, and his table still sits empty. You feel the sweat start to form on your back, but try to stay in your routine. 

Why isn’t he here? Where could he be instead? Did his company find out he was doing this? 

You always got scared that it might be leaked that idols come here, knowing the sasaengs stalker habits. Mingi, being a part of one of the biggest Korean boy groups, Ateez, must have a large number of crazy fans following him. 

Did they find out and tip the press to show up here? You didn’t see anyone outside though… Your mind runs rampant with all of the reasons that it could possibly be as you walk off stage and collect your tips from the stage manager. 

Tears start to threaten to spill, and you think you are crazy yet again to be this affected by a man you haven’t even had a conversation with. 

On the way home, Lina can tell you’re bothered and nudges your side as you walk home. 

“So you know how Taehyun has been requesting me a lot? Well he mentioned his upcoming tour tonight, I think he might finally take me along with them!” She exclaimed excitedly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s just saying that so you’ll suck him off some more.” you say. 

“Well damn… What’s got you all worked up honey?” She always called you honey when she was trying to comfort you. 

“Mingi didn’t come tonight..” you admit. 

“On a Thursday? That’s… super out of character. Well don’t worry, I’m sure practice just went long or he has an early morning schedule or….” her talking trails off as you dissociate. 

Lina has always been a nice friend, agreeing to move in with you without knowing you very well, trying her best to always cheer you up. It’s not her fault you felt like you guys were never really close. You give her props for trying though. 

You pull out your phone and check his bubble and instagram, seeing if maybe they could give you some clues. Nothing. 

You fall asleep that night thinking of the last time his fingers swiped your lip, hoping it wasn’t the last.

—

The next night at the club is gloomy. Even though it’s a Friday, attendance is lower and your energy is even lower. 

The feeling of someone watching you has been bothering you all day, but the guy in the hood has yet to make an appearance. You are just looking forward to curling up in your bed tonight and continually refreshing Mingi’s bubble messages. 

The stage manager calls for everyone to get onstage for the final number and the other girls rush out. You take your time though, not feeling like getting in a rush for this menial thing. 

You hang your head in your hands, covering your eyes and taking a breath. Just get through it, he’s just a man, you try to remind yourself. 

A smell reaches you, like a really expensive cologne. Musky and masculine, and somehow… dominant. 

You look up and standing in the doorway is him. He stands as if he owns the place, hands in his pocket, opting for a fitted vest tonight in lieu of a jacket. 

And he’s staring you down, studying you intently. If it was anyone else, you would feel the need to cover yourself and apologize. But not with him. 

You probably look like a dumbass, staring at him through the mirror with your mouth slightly open. 

He speaks first. “You were worried.” It’s a question but he doesn’t need an answer. 

“Yes,” is all you can manage to squeak out. 

He leans against the doorway, messing with his shirt cuff. You still haven’t moved, frozen in place. How did he get in here, past the security guard? How did he know which dressing room you were in? Was he the person in the hood you noticed this morning? He must be stalking you… Why doesn’t that bother you more? 

He notices your anxiety moving through you. “Don’t worry, I just know the security guard. He owed me a favor. I’m not a stalker” he responds, as if he read your mind.

“That’s… good” you say. 

He drops his arms and strides towards you, slowly as to not spook you. “Well thank you for worrying about me. I’m okay, for now. But, here’s the problem my love,” he draws his finger up your arm, making your hair stand up and bumps form. “You may be in trouble.” 

You aren’t sure what he means. “What kind of trouble?” you ask. “Like legal trouble?” 

You are afraid that maybe one of the idols ratted this place out and the feds are going to come knocking down your door and take you all away. Would Mingi still visit you in jail? Surely not, there’s no lap dances there… 

He sticks his finger under your chin and pushes it up to make you look at him. Drip. 

“Please stop letting your mind get ahead of you, baby. Let daddy speak.” DRIP. 

“A sasaeng has been getting very close to you. Too close. I can’t let you get hurt.” Awe, he wants to protect you. DRIP DRIP DRIPPING. 

“How did they find me?” you ask. 

He leans against the counter as he continues, “I am not sure, I don’t even know how much they know. Sasaengs are insane people with insane complexes. This one has been stalking me since pre-debut. But I’ve always been careful that she doesn’t see me come in here. So how she knows that you are important to me, I don’t know…” IMPORTANT TO HIM??? 

Okay you’ll have to throw these underwear out at this point. 

“So what do I need to do then? To protect myself I mean” you ask him. 

“Nothing, I want you to do absolutely nothing and let me handle it. But in the meantime, you can’t go back to your apartment.” 

Hate to say it, but fine by you. Maybe you’ll save some money by not having to replace your stolen shit anymore.

“Where will I go instead?” you ask. 

“You’ll come stay with me.” Jesus Christ, 20 year old you would be freaking the fuck out. But, it doesn’t make you freak out, in that way at least. 

“What about Lina, what about my job? I can’t live with you, much less San and Seonghwa. I’ll never see you. What if you have to travel for schedules? I’m just supposed to stay in your dorm 24/7? I have a life! I barely even know you! You only ever say 4 words to me, and then fucking leave me in a puddle, how can I just-” 

His hand stroking the side of your cheek cuts you off. “Again with the mind racing, baby. I don’t want you to uproot your life, it will be temporary. I have my own apartment now too, so we won’t be with other members. It will only be until we are 100% sure you are safe to be alone. I will take care of you, I promise.” he reassures. 

You lean into the hand that holds your head, a few tears falling into it. You finally get the courage to look up at him, making eye contact. He has dropped his heavy, dominant demeanor. Instead, his eyes hold only comfort and concern. 

Maybe he wasn’t kidding; maybe you really are important to him. 

After a minute of silence, “Okay, so what do I need to do right now?” you ask.

“Change and pack up your stuff, we are going to the apartment. Make a list of what all you need from your apartment when we get home and I will send a staff to collect it all in the morning.” 

“And take a breath, princess.” You unclench your jaw, which you didn’t even realize was clenched. He kisses your forehead before reaching down to grab your duffle bag that you carry your things in. 

You think in silence as you pack. Take a breath he says… he will protect me he says… Why me? Why is protecting me, a stripper, just some stripper that he barely speaks to. He doesn’t even know my real name…

“Yes I do,” he says from the chair he has sat down in to wait for you. Oops, you must’ve said that part outloud. 

“It’s Cora.” You like the way he flips the “r” of your American name with his Korean accent. 

“How do you know that?” he ignores you. “How do you know I used to live with San and Seonghwa?” “Touche…” you respond.

“All done?” he asks. You nod. He crosses to you and starts stroking your arms to comfort you. 

“I want you to remember though, you still have to be a good girl for me at the apartment, can you do that?” 

You look up at him through your eyelashes, surprised that he still is holding this up even at a time like this. Is it all an act, or is it truly how he is? Either way, you are turned on once again. 

“Yes..” you respond. He cocks his eyebrow, questioning your answer. 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes… daddy.”

“There’s my good girl.”

With his hand on your back, he guides you out of the dressing room and out the back door, where a black hatchback with tinted windows is waiting. He holds open the door for you, and helps you into the car. If only other men treated all their strippers like this…

The car ride home (whatever home means at the moment) is very silent. He has his hand on your thigh the entire way, the other staying steady on the wheel. His thumb rubs back and forth, another attempt at comfort you’re guessing. It works, sort of. 

Just smelling him and being near him your body is relaxed, knowing he will take care of you and wanting to give yourself to him. It’s like you are under his spell, which is crazy. You are usually so independent and self-sufficient. What about him makes you want to grant his every wish? 

“Shouldn’t you be blindfolding me, so I won’t know where your apartment is and so I won’t run away and all that?” you ask, kind of joking. 

“You won’t” he says while keeping his eyes on the road, fully confident in his answer. 

He’s probably right. 

–

Finally you reach the apartment. You almost drifted off to sleep, even though the drive was only about 20 minutes. He parks right outside the front door of the building and gets out to open your door for you. He offers his hand to help you out of the car. It’s much appreciated because you are still in your platform heels, just throwing a coat over your outfit you were going to wear to perform in. 

He keeps his hand on your back as you walk up to the doors, through the lobby, and up the elevator. It’s a really nice building with a concierge and fresh flowers all over. Sometimes you forget how big Ateez really is, and figure that Mingi bought this place with his own money. 

You wonder if he has neighbors on his floor. Do they know he lives next to them? Does he talk to his neighbors at all? Do they know that he is having his own personal stripper move in with him?

They’re gonna know now, from how loud you are being. 

How you ended up riding him in his dining room chair about 15 minutes later, you’re not so sure. 

—

He was going slow, too slow, slow enough that you could feel every. single. inch. 

You tried to grind your hips and get him in deeper, but the tight hold he had on your asscheek lets you know that even though you are on top, you are not in control. 

His other hand is holding your face, his thumb hooked in your mouth. You suck and gag on it as much as you can, but it’s hard to focus when he is going this slow. 

You felt high, things were getting foggy. All you knew is that you wanted to please him. 

“My beautiful girl, doing so well. You were waiting for this for a long time weren’t you?” his deep voice sends sparks to your clit and makes you even wetter, if that’s even possible. 

You can only close your eyes and nod. You want to throw your head back, but his hand on your cheek and thumb in your mouth keeps it facing forward. “Now baby, what did I say? Eyes. on. me.” 

He jerks your head a bit, just to make you a little scared. 

You know he would never hurt you. 

Unless you asked. 

You open your eyes like a good girl. How could you not be a good girl for him? 

His breath catches when you make eye contact with him again. His eyes bare into your soul, never breaking. 

You whimper a little when the head of his cock catches someplace you have never felt before. He smirks, knowing. He hits it again, making the upper half of your body keen forward, his thumb slipping out of your mouth. 

Your hands, which were bracing on the back of the chair, move down to his pecs. You are desperate for him, desperate for that feeling that release you dreamt about him giving you. 

You start to bounce since he let go of you, letting his arms hang down and his head fall back in pleasure. You are doing that to him. You are making him let go. 

You grind his cockhead up against your g-spot over and over again, drooling down his neck. 

You wish you could see what you guys look like, his giant body draped over the chair in ecstasy, you sat on his thick thighs bouncing on his perfect cock, licking up and down his neck. 

You’re close, really close, and your walls start to constrict down on his cock. His eyes shoot open and he jerks his head up at the feeling. 

“Hold on princess,” he practically growls at you. 

Hold onto what? You think. 

He grabs underneath your thighs, holding his hands behind your back and lifts the both of you out of the chair with him still inside of you. 

Oh my god, holy shit. 

This was too good, you couldn’t have even dreamt this up. 

You wrap your hands around his neck and he pummels into you as fast as he can, hitting your g-spot every single time as if he has memorized the angle. The sound of his balls hitting your ass covers your cries of his name. 

“Fucking. Take it.” he says, his forehead touching yours. He has essentially lost control of his body, just bouncing you wildly up and down his cock. 

It’s coming, It’s coming. Please, please, please, “please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for, if you’re even talking out loud. You feel like you are losing your grip on reality, its so so close. 

He stills inside of you, leaving his cock right on the spot you need the most. He just shallowly thrusts, just rubbing your g-spot with his cockhead. Holy shit, it feels like fucking heaven. 

“Now,” he commands. 

And you obey. 

You flutter around him, feeling how his shallow thrusts stutter when you cum. You don’t stop for at least a full minute. 

“Thank you thank you thank you, oh fuck, thank you daddy” is all you can say as your clit jumps in ecstasy. 

His eyebrows are furrowed together, he’s close too. Right as your orgasm tapers out, you tighten your thighs around him and give him 3 bounces. That’s all he needs. 

He pulls you off of him just as he’s cumming, holding you away from him so you can watch the cum drip out of his cock and onto the floor. It’s so beautiful, you think. 

He sets your legs down on the floor, but they can’t hold you up and you fall to your knees. You can barely see straight, and you can’t catch your breath. Holy shit he may really have fucked the shit out of you. 

You keep your eyes turned to the ground while you try and slow your heart, but you see him start to squat down to your level. He picks up your chin with his hand to look up at him. “Baby… you need to clean up your mess.” 

“Wh..What?” you stutter. 

He stands up straight again, looming over you with his giant presence. “Clean it up.” his gaze falls to the ground and yours follows. 

Oh… you get it now. 

Not breaking eye contact, you lean your head down. You stick out your tongue and lick up the cum that he let fall to the floor, as well as some from you that you didn’t even realize had dripped down. He smiles. 

You feel like a pet, like a slave. 

You fucking love it. 

“That’s my good girl.” he praises you. You wipe off your mouth and look up at him through your eyelashes. He squats back down to your level, seeming to have fallen for your puppy dog eyes. 

“Does my baby need help getting cleaned up?” 

“Yes daddy.” 

He bends down to pick you up, which he does with ease, as if you weighed nothing. He guides your legs to wrap around him and he carries you into the bathroom. 

He sets you down to sit on the toilet and turns on the shower to start heating up. Why do you feel so dizzy? You gaze can’t focus. 

“Cora… don’t pass out on me my love.” he holds your face in his hands. 

“What do you need baby?” you grab onto his wrist to try and steady yourself. 

“Just a minute… I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize, take your time.”

He strokes your hair as you take a few deep breaths to steady yourself. 

“Is the shower ready?” you ask. 

“Yes my love, whenever you are.”

“Will you help me?” you ask.

“Of course” he says as he starts guiding you towards the shower door. 

He lets you step in first and before you can protest that you can shower on your own, he steps in behind you. 

It's a really big shower, with beautiful blue tiles and a detachable shower head. Detachable? Huh…

You lean into his chest, your head barely meeting the middle of it due to his height. One of his arms wraps around your body while the other starts to shampoo your hair. 

Why do you already feel so comfortable with him? As if you have been showering together for years. You literally just licked this man’s cum off the floor and have no remorse about it. Should you feel guilty? 

Nah, you kind of just feel like bragging to other Atiny’s on Twitter. I sucked his beautiful cock!! Suckers!!! Probably wouldn’t be the best idea…

After washing the rest of your body and getting you out of the shower and making sure you brushed your teeth, you are now tucked into his extremely comfortable bed. You don’t usually sleep naked, but it seems right when he is too. 

You turn to face him in the bed. He was already staring at you, it seems. 

“You know, I wasn’t expecting us to fuck right off the bat..” you admit. 

“Me neither, but I am not surprised. It’s hard to resist you.”

“You’ve been resisting me for the past 6 months. You know I always craved more from you.”

“Yes I did know. But I didn’t want to enjoy you in such a public space. I just craved being around you. Its hard to resist you, though, princess. Just know that.”

I guess that makes me feel better, but still… so many things unanswered.

“I know you are probably questioning a lot of things. Just try and get some sleep tonight, okay my love?” he asks. 

“Okay..” you agree in a small voice, knowing that you will wake up tomorrow with even more unanswered questions. 

“Good girl.” He curls his arm around your middle and tucks you into his side, kissing your forehead before drifting to sleep. 

He smells like the same cologne he was wearing earlier tonight. Beautiful, musky, and masculine. You let yourself drift to sleep, breathing him in.

OKAY I DID IT MY FIRST CHAPTER. plz reblog and like.

#ateez mingi #mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi #mingi smut #kpop smut

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for getting angry with my mom for trying to help me with my self-esteem?

Okay so I honestly have no idea if I’m the AH or not, bc I’ve come up with mental arguments for both. It’s nothing too serious, just something I’ve been wondering about for a while. The whole situation is just so weird that I’m throwing it to the courts of Tumblr.

To make a long story short, I (2XF) dislike being perceived just like… in general. I’m fine in private contexts but whenever I’m going out in public I’ll typically wear looser clothing, long sleeves, etc. There’s no particular trauma or anything for this, it’s just the way I’ve always been since I can remember.

Recently I told my mom (5X F) about my reasoning (don’t like to be looked at) and after a brief panic where she thought I meant someone was making me uncomfortable she understood that it’s just like. A general thing. I know it’s kind of weird but I thought that was it and moved on.

After that conversation started bringing home clothes for me that were more form-fitting, low cut, sheer, etc. I liked them and wore them around the house and when visiting friends but again, not in public. I didn’t think much of it bc she’d say things like “I bought this for myself but I don’t like how it looks on me, if you like it you can keep it” or “my friend was getting rid of this, do you want it?” but apparently she was actually buying these things. I didn’t think anything of it (before I knew she was buying the clothes) bc we do that sort of thing all the time, one of the things we bond over is secondhand searching and clothing swaps.

But one day she came back with a bikini. On one hand this was very thoughtful of her, bc she knew I was looking for a new swimsuit since mine had gotten all faded. On the other hand, my previous swim suit was a tennis skirt and a tee shirt so. It was a large departure from my norm.

I told her I wasn’t going to wear it. Eventually it escalated to an actual fight, and she ended up admitting that she was encouraged I was wearing the clothes she gave me regularly and was really worried about my self esteem. Specifically she said I “shouldn’t be ashamed of my body” and that wearing a bikini was “the next step”. Our argument went in circles and both if us walked away mad.

This remains unresolved but has since blown over.

On one hand, I think it’s AH behavior to try to force someone to change how they dress just bc you don’t agree with it, and to assign meaning to what they wear - in either direction! Clothes don’t equal consent but also. On the flip side. Just bc someone is layered it doesn’t mean they have some sort of body issues. I’m an adult, I can choose what I’m comfortable with, and if I’m not comfortable with a bikini then that should be that.

On the other hand, the way she tried to “help” was subtle and respectful, and tbh I know the whole “don’t perceive me” thing is weird so I get where she’s coming from and I don’t think I should’ve gotten so upset with her over it. And part of me says I should’ve just gone with it bc what’s the harm? If I felt uncomfortable then lesson learned, if not then maybe I’m “getting better”.

Idk man. I don’t think I should’ve yelled at her, but I also think it’s weird she brought it up in those terms. So *shrug* it’s up to ya’ll now

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[doubtingthomasin]

i am here to prove that i am god's weakest soldier once and for all.

kinktober: hellcheer edition

prompt 1: orgasm denial

word count: 4k

MINORS DNI FFS

(i'm really not sure how many of these i can do since i'm also working on a larger piece...but i just had to try.)

@viharker

------

Just act natural, Chrissy thinks to herself, standing outside the door to the drama room. Well, not the drama room itself, but the place where they store set pieces and costumes and the like. Her stomach roils in anticipation all the same.

Eddie had slipped a note in her locker between third and fourth period that day, simply asking her to meet him there once school let out, even more simply signed E.M. She ignored how her heart leapt, as she did every time it made any motion around him. It doesn’t make sense to her, how infatuated she already is with him after only a few weeks of hanging out, if that’s what you can call it. She had agreed to help tutor him for Ms. O’Donnell’s class, and things were going well so far. Probably just wants extra study time, she assures herself, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

She’ll take anything as long as he doesn’t say what she’s dreading to hear the most.

None of this makes sense, Chrissy. We shouldn’t hang out anymore. We’re just too different.

The knots in her stomach tighten again at the thought. She knows he’s actually a good guy, wouldn’t do anything to embarrass or hurt her on purpose, so why else would he want to meet so privately if not to call this whole arrangement off?

It’s a little longer before she realizes she’s been standing there for about five minutes. Maybe he left. Maybe he’s smoking. Maybe she should just knock, for crying out loud.

She does so, timidly so that she thinks it might not carry enough.

“You may enter.”

His sudden voice makes her gasp, and she shakes her head. Get it together, Chrissy. It’s probably just a tutoring session.

She pushes the door open slowly to find Eddie sitting on what looks like a throne at the head of a large table, one foot on the chair, the other leg dangling over the side carelessly. He’s leaning on the chair arm with his hand dangling in front of his mouth, but he rests his chin on his fist as she walks closer. Smiling a little at her obvious confusion.

He looks so damn good she could die.

She offers a small, nervous, “Hi,” little wave and all.

“Hey.” It's all he says, staying still. She can't see how his pulse is jumping in his throat or how she's stolen his breath just by walking in the room.

She looks around the room, empty of any other occupants. Still. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He shrugs, folding his hands over his t-shirt. “‘S just us, gorgeous.” Chrissy swears her whole body shudders at the endearment, but it doesn't seem that he noticed.

“Right, yeah. The note.” She nods, taking him in again. His jacket and vest are on the table, his tee dotted with slashes and holes she's sure he made himself–and she realizes he's one of those guys who looks dangerously attractive in one layer. Calm down, Chrissy, holy hell.

“Sorry to be so mysterious." He's up off the chair in one fluid movement, slowly walking toward her. "But I figured if you accidentally lost it, you wouldn’t want someone explicitly knowing who you’ve been hanging out with recently.” He raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't actually mind being her secret friend. Or whatever she wanted to call him.

She can call him anything. No matter what, he's already hers.

She shakes her head. “I don’t care if people know.”

That actually surprises him a bit, though it doesn't show. “Really?”

“No," she insists with a shrug of her own. "I mean…they have you all wrong.”

His somewhat smug grin softens a tinge. “How so?”

“They think…well, don’t make me say it.”

“Why not?” he asks innocently.

“I don’t want your feelings hurt," she implores. Eddie's eyes widen before he scoffs, which then turns into a genuine laugh. It'd been years since someone around his age had given even two shits about his feelings. “Did I do something? Say something?”

He swallows the rest of his laughter before playing coy again. “What makes you ask that?” He's standing right in front of her, and he hopes she can see the affection in his eyes past the teasing.

But he's not sure she can. Instead, she just seems suspicious. “You’re just…acting different.”

“I guess I’ve made a decision." God, here it comes, she thinks miserably. "It…occurred to me when you told me you were breaking up with Jason soon, but it took me a few days to, I don’t know, imagine the possibilities.”

She thought she knew what he was about to say, so the strange turn in subject matter has her shaking her head again. “I’m not following, Eddie.”

“D’you know what makes a good DM, Chrissy?” He looks at her expectantly, leaning back against the table on his hands.

“DM?”

“Dungeon Master." He's moving, can't seem to stop moving actually, walking slowly around her. "It’s a Dungeons & Dragons term. It’s what I am, actually. I decide what happens to all the player’s characters, in a manner of speaking. They roll the dice, but I’ve already laid out what could happen ahead of time. Whether they roll well or badly, I’m always ten steps ahead." 

He puts his hands softly on her shoulders for a moment, but it still makes her jump. "You gotta be. It’s more than just having a good imagination. I mean, I do…God, I do." He's standing right behind her, his voice suddenly heavy, and she thinks she might know what he's looking at. She refuses to get her hopes up. "The point is, in this room, I’m in charge. I rule with an iron fist and very little mercy. So now, being forewarned," He walks back into view, eyes shimmering as he crossed his arms, "I ask you, Chrissy Cunningham. Do you have what it takes to join us?”

She'd been so caught up in wondering whether he was checking her out or not that she almost misses his question. “I'm sorry. Join who in what?”

He looks to the side, wondering how he could've been clearer. “D-Dungeons & Dragons. We’re starting a new campaign next month, and we’ll have the full group as long as…Lucas doesn’t abandon us for basketball camp.”

“W-..." A smile spreads across her face as she realizes this is the opposite of what she thought would happen. "I don’t know the first thing about it.”

“I’ll teach you," he says supportively, waving a hand. "You’re gonna need something to distract you from the heartbreak and I am more than happy to provide that.”

She's honestly not sure what to say. The fact that he wants to include her in a hobby that she knows is vastly important to him has her blushing for some reason. “I…I guess I can try.”

He claps his hands in triumph, making her laugh. “That’s my girl! I was so hoping you’d say yes. Trust me, it’s so fun, especially when you get to make Dustin mad. I do it on purpose all the time." He's grabbing his lunch box and textbook when he remembers the nervous look on her face when she walked in, so he stops, mirth evaporated. "Just out of curiosity, Chrissy, what did you think we were meeting to discuss?”

“I thought maybe an extra tutoring session," she says honestly, but he's giving her that look. The searching one he gave her that first day at the picnic table, like he's trying to read her mind. She decides on more honesty. "Or that you didn’t wanna hang out with me anymore or something stupid like that." She's not making eye contact, fiddling with her hair as she kicks her foot a little on the floor. "It’s so stupid.”

He leaves his things on the table to put his hands on her shoulders. The seriousness in his eyes gives her goosebumps. “Why would I abandon you?”

The way he says it, as if there's no possible way he'd ever consider it, finally brings her eyes to his. “I don’t know.” 

She said it in such a small, quiet voice that it was a good thing he was looking at her lips anyway. He knows she's not naturally quiet, no cheerleader is. It's been instilled in her, forced on her somewhere along the way. He definitely wants to gut whoever did that. 

“I guess," he begins, scratching the back of his neck, "I could…go ahead and tell you something else I’ve been debating. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or make you change your mind.”

Her brow furrows before she smiles softly. “How could you make me uncomfortable?” He's close enough now that he can smell her strawberry shampoo, see the mascara meticulously coating each pale lash above those beautiful blue eyes, the shine of her plush, glossed lips.

He's so close. So dangerously close.

And she doesn't seem to mind.

That knowledge gives him the courage–or stupidity, he'll find out which soon enough–to continue.“ I like you. I’ve liked you for a long time, like years. Like…since the talent show back in eighth grade when you were, uh, the only one who clapped for our song. And um…the last thing I’d ever want to do is make you feel obligated or…I don’t know." He swallows nervously, smiles a little frantically. "I’m losing my words. That’s not a good quality in a DM, by the way.”

“You like me?” Chrissy asks, taking one of his hands in hers. “As in…romantically?” She's almost too calm, but she's still trying to comprehend how this can be possible. He's older and gorgeous and so much more sure of himself than she fears she'll ever be.

Eddie's heart hammered in his chest, trying to escape because it's still too far away from her. He gives a wry nod. “Pretty sure that’s the word for it." Dropping her hand, he shifts both his tone and his body away. "So, yeah. Much bigger chance of you leaving me. And that's what I'm giving you a chance at right now, I guess."

She's starting to get whiplash. "I'm lost again."

"Leave if you want, kill me now before I get attached to you or something." He laughs a bit manically on the "kill me now" like he expects it. She can tell he means it, not taking his eyes off the table as he idly flips at the textbook cover. But he's waiting, breathing heightened as he tries to brace himself for the worst.

"Eddie…" She crosses the small distance, reaching up to touch his cheek. Relief floods them both at the moment of contact, his eyes closing against her cool fingertips on his cheekbone. He exhales sharply, the sound making her thighs clench. She presses even closer, her thumb ghosting over his bottom lip and he shivers. "It's too late for me."

When he opens his eyes, hers are so warm, so innocent and wide that he feels his pants tighten. He almost protests when she removes her thumb, the words lost yet again when she leans up to press her lips to his.

It's a chaste, sweet kiss that his brain doesn't even compute until it's over, so quickly he easily could've dreamt it. He has before. He swallows thickly as he opens his eyes again to find hers are still closed–and his darken as he thinks of the ways in which he wants to consume her. Ways he'd only ever let himself imagine in his room in the dark, now released unbidden in his mind with one, soft kiss.

His eyes are dazed as if he'd gotten hold of some really good bud. He might as well have, for how intoxicating she proves to be. "You haven't broken up with Jason yet." It sounds like a valid reason to stop, but his hands are already resting on her waist, the back of her neck.

His voice is barely above a whisper, reverberating through her chest. She thinks she's already wet. But then her eyes fly open for a moment as his cool fingers reach the heated skin on the back of her neck, and she sees his face and knows she is. "Is that a deal-breaker?" Her voice is high, quaking and strained at the sight of lust in every feature of his.

And then he's smiling, hand sliding into her hair to hold her tighter, leaning into her lips just to brush against them. "Not even close." He chokes it out, already sounding desperate as he kisses her again.

He's almost bruising, he's wanted this so goddamn long, their tongues meeting as she lets him in. But she squeaks, pulling back a little, and he realizes he pulled her hair too hard. "I'm so sorry," he says quickly, panting as she pulls away completely.

Chrissy catches her breath, not taking her eyes off him as her mind absolutely reels. It's obvious from his face, from the red flush and the set of his jaw, that she'd just caught a glimpse of a side of him she wasn't meant to. His eyes are wide, apologetic, and she looks toward the door.

Oh, God, please don't leave me.

"What am I doing?" she asks, staring at the floor for a moment before moving toward the exit.

Eddie's stomach falls in a sickening way, his brain frantically searching for the right words. "I'm so sorry, Chrissy, please." He follows after her at a distance like a puppy, anxiety clawing up his throat, watching her strawberry blond ponytail bob up and down for what could be the last time. “I’m such a creep, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave, yell at me or hit me or–” That’s as far as he gets before he sees her shut the door and lock it, turning to him with a partly amused grin.

“Hit you?” she asks, walking back over to him. He stays perfectly still, unsure whether or not he actually messed up. But she places one hand against his cheek, letting the other slip slowly down from his shoulder to his stomach, leaving a trail of fire in her wake. Her eyes stay trained on his, fleeting glances at his lips, as she presses her body firmly to his. “I could never hurt you, Eddie.”

Oh, if she only knew how horribly wrong she was.

His breathing slows as he realizes everything’s okay, but his heart is making a beeline for her yet again. “I thought you were leaving.” His voice sounds pitiful to his own ears, but he can’t even find any shame in that.

“Don’t think I could do that either,” she whispers, her roving hand resting on his belt buckle. Oh, Christ. "Just thought…we wouldn't want anyone to interrupt us…would we?"

Her eyes are hazy, her bottom lip jutting out slightly, begging to be bitten. Never so fast has relief turned to white-hot need in his gut. A groan escapes him as he feels one of her fingers pressing against his stomach, and the sound makes her ache in all the right places. He says nothing, his voice stolen by the vixen currently letting her fingertips ghost over his collarbone. 

God, she’d wanted to touch him for what felt like ages.

Even just the small movements of her hands has him on a knife’s edge, and he wants to let her do whatever she wants, but he needs clarity. “What exactly are you asking for, Chrissy?”

She slowly blinks up at him. “Whatever you’ll give me, Eddie.” She sounds so pleading, so breathy, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Careful.” He finally moves, taking her hand from his chest and placing it on the back of his neck. “That’s everything, princess.” He’s glad he sounds more confident than he feels.

She smiles as he looks at her reverently, his hands on her hips. “Then…I just want you to touch me.”

At the request he groans again, lower in his chest. “Where?”

And then she says the three most beautiful words he’s ever heard.

“Anywhere you like.”

She tilts her head, leaning up to kiss him, when he suddenly lifts her into the air. Chrissy yelps, her hands meeting behind his neck, and her legs have no choice but to quickly wrap around his waist. He exhales sharply as he feels her heat against his fully clothed erection, and she gasps at feeling him grind into her, happy that she went with a skirt that morning.

Eddie gives her a mischievous smirk before capturing her lips, his hands on her ass and thighs as hers weave their way into his hair. They moan freely, loudly into a furious assault of tongues, lips, and teeth, and she barely feels gravity pulling against her as he lowers her onto the table.

He has one hand on her thigh, halfway under her skirt, as his other hand grabs her chin to break their kiss. She whimpers at the loss of contact, which only makes him laugh, a low, dusky sound as he meets her eye to speak. “Can I taste you, too?” His voice betrays him, shaky and full of hunger.

She’s stunned, her eyelids fluttering as she comprehends his meaning. Jason had said before that boys didn’t like going down on girls, refusing to do it himself even as he asked for a blowjob. The fact that Eddie wants to has her legs opening wider on their own, her skirt falling back prettily against her hips. So she nods, her world tilting on its axis as his thumb presses into her bottom lip.

He swears he’s going to burst just looking at her. “I need words, baby.” 

She exhales shakily, trying to find her voice. “Yes…please.” She somehow makes eye contact, his pupils blown wide so that his eyes look almost black, and wonders if she looks the same. His thumb is still pulling down on her lip, laser-focused as he moves it inward across her teeth.

Oh.

She’d read about this move in Cosmo.

Her tongue languidly laps at the tip of his thumb as she closes her lips around it, sucking him further into her mouth. She gives him those big doe eyes again and she can tell right away that he hadn’t been expecting the lewd display he was currently receiving, his mouth falling further open as he groans loudly.

“Jesus Christ, Chrissy.” He removes his thumb quickly to kiss her again, hand sliding back into her hair as he lays her down. He moves away from her mouth, peppering kisses over her cheek until he makes it down to the pulse in her neck, growling into her skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

She can’t focus to respond as the hand on her thigh hooks into the waistband of her panties, pulling gently in question. It’s the only response she can afford, pulling down from the other side as they remove the thin fabric together. Once they’re off, he shoves them in his back pocket, nipping her neck a little when he finally feels how wet she is.

She cries out at the sudden contact, his large fingers stroking almost immediately up and down her opening. “You’re drenched, baby.” Chrissy whimpers at the smile in his honeyed voice, marveling at how he can play with her when he’s just as aroused. 

“Eddie, please, I need it.” And he almost breaks, almost gives into the temptation to rip her clothes off and fuck her into the table. Instead, he removes his hand, neglect drawing a pained whine from her pretty little throat.

“What do you say?” He’s almost kicking himself mentally, on the edge of Heaven itself and he still wants to push for more. Her legs wrap tighter as she ruts against him, and he presses both hands into her hips, pinning her to the table. She whines again, eyes closed with the most gorgeous, agonized expression on her face, and she’s perfect how she is. 

He doesn’t need her eyes open yet anyway.

Eddie catches her chin again, firmly turning her face to where he can rest his lips against hers, speaking into her mouth. She’s already burning up. “What. Do. You. Say?”

“Please,” she cries softly, her cunt throbbing. “I said please.” He’s smiling again, his fingertips brushing the inside of her thigh, a promise of more on its way that makes her squirm beneath him.

“‘Please,’ what?” He doesn’t know exactly why he’s pushing her so much, but she sounds so fucking good that he can’t seem to stop.

She’s almost confused, and she searches her mind for what word or phrase he wants her to use. It doesn’t take her long, and the knowledge of what he wants to hear surges straight down to her clit.

“Please–” she begins, faltering. But she was already too far gone. They both were. “Please, master.”

The hand on her thigh stops, his eyes closing as hers open, his jaw clenching as the sound of her plea reaches into his gut and turns him inside out. He’s kissing her again, lazily licking into her mouth as he resumes stroking her. She moans with relief as he sucks on her neck, her head lolling to the side to give him better access. She’s just relaxing into his hand, smiling and biting her lower lip, when a finger slides inside her. 

Chrissy arches up slightly, mouth falling open as he curls the digit against her inner wall. “Oh, my God.”

He kisses up her throat, trailing his hand down from her hair to over her clothed breast, squeezing. “Let’s stick with ‘master’ for now.” She laughs, a small, clipped sound cut off by his thumb finding her clit, rolling it in small quick circles. She keens at the intensity, and she’s so loud they might actually get caught. Fuck it. “One more finger?” he asks once she’s quieter, his voice somehow stronger.

She nods desperately. “Please, please.” He obeys, and her eyes roll back as he strokes in earnest. His hand slides under her shirt, under her bra, finding her nipple and pinching. Her hand tightens in his hair as she yelps, legs starting to shake. She feels cool air on her chest as he pushes her clothes up, trading his pinching fingers for his mouth.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” She really is being so deliciously loud, and he’s never been harder in his life. He groans as he sucks, but his patience with himself is wearing thin. The fingers inside her quicken, her whimpered words incomprehensible as she gets closer to her breaking point. But he does catch, “Eddie, I’m so close.”

And that’s his cue. His hands and mouth cease their onslaught, and he pulls her bra and shirt back down as she feels an honest flare of anger in the pit of her stomach. She hides it, opting for just as honest confusion instead. “W-What are you doing? I didn’t finish.”

“I know,” he says simply, his cock leaking as he slides her panties up her legs. She catches his wrist firmly. He figured she would, and looks up at her with feigned innocence.

“Why can’t I come?” She sounds so heartbroken that he almost changes his mind.

He sits her up, takes in the exquisite sight of her rucked up skirt, messed hair, her pouting swollen lips and pink cheeks. Christ, she’s perfect. And she wants him.

“Sweetheart,” he begins, grabbing his coat and vest to put them on, “you’re loud enough to wake the dead.”

Her face falls as she looks down at her legs. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no, no,” he says softly, taking her chin again and planting a comforting kiss on her lips. “That’s never a bad thing.” His fingers caress her neck and she leans into the touch. “I’m so hard it’ll probably be painful to walk, if that’s any indication of how much I love it.” Her lips curl up in a shy smile as he presses his forehead to hers. “And while I’d love nothing more than to ravish you on this table, you can’t afford to get caught on school grounds, can you?”

It’s a really good point, and she nods against the aching emptiness between her legs.

“So, my lady,” he concludes, pulling her off the table and into his arms, “we’ll just have to move this party outside.” And with one more kiss that makes her giggle, he gathers his things, takes her by the hand, and leads her out to the parking lot.

#i've gotta be less wordy lol #eddissy #hellcheer #eddie x chrissy #chrissy x eddie #hellcheer kinktober #evan's writing

[god-whispers]

jan 3

i believe; help my unbelief

"immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, "Lord, i believe; help my unbelief!" mark 9:24

"Jesus said to him, “if you can believe, all things are possible to him who believes." mark 9:23  that was the word of Jesus to a father long ago and He still speaks that to us today.

like it or not we all struggle with a measure of unbelief.  is it really God's will for this?  do i have to believe this thing into existence?  i am not among those great saints of faith described in the book of hebrews.  those "who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens.  women received their dead raised to life again." heb 11:33-35

i stand as a pauper among princes of faith.  and yet, our Lord exhorts us further: "for assuredly, I say to you, whoever says to this mountain, 'be removed and be cast into the sea,’ and does not doubt in his heart, but believes that those things he says will be done, he will have whatever he says." mark 11:23

perhaps our mouth will speak it but are our hearts really doubting?  i ask this of myself as much as others.  as my mother lay dying in my arms, i think my heart believed i could call her back, but i wasn't sure i could call her back healed.  i saw her remaining in a tortuous state.  how insane is that; the limits we put on a limitless God?

the word of God says, "assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you." matt 17:20  when Jesus adds "assuredly" before anything, that means it is a certainty.  and a mustard seed?  it is said to be one of the smallest seeds of all that grows large enough to allow birds to nest in it.

no, faith doesn't begin as something great.  unless one receives a gift of faith from God, like the mustard seed, it needs to grow into something great.  if one can't believe for a headache to be healed, how will they ever be able to believe for cancer?

i think again of my early walk in the things of the spirit.  i've told this before but the Lord is leading me to tell it again.  there was a pecan tree in my front yard that had been overrun with bagworms threatening to destroy it.  even as gideon fleeced God, one day i stood under that pecan tee and commanded all the worms to fall to the ground and bear no fruit.  nothing happened immediately.  several days later as i entered the house, suddenly i notice there were no more bagworms on the tree.  they had indeed all fallen to the ground.

i have heard it said, get a baby christian to pray for you and you are more likely to get an answer; maybe because they're simple enough to believe, and maybe because God wants to show Himself strong.  either way, i don't believe that.  God has a reason for everything He does and all things are in the right time and in the right place.

they say building one's faith is like building muscles; use it or lose it.  i sit here today having know a few victories in the Lord.  i also sit here in a wheelchair, unable to walk a step without falling.  by faith i am still believing for restoration knowing all things are in His timing; in the fullness of time.  i will not give up on His promises.  my prayers may never see another one answered but that will not stop me praying.  that will not stop me believing in His promises.

in my bible, in the book of psalm. i have carefully gone through and marked each scripture using the word "wait."  i believe and i patiently wait for the fulfillment of His word to me.  i await the fulfillment of this promise:  "but those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles, they shall run and not be weary, they shall walk and not faint." isa 40:31  someday i shall walk.  someday i shall fly - right into His waiting arms.  come fly with me.

the leper came before Jesus pleading, "'Lord, if You are willing, You can make me clean.'  then Jesus put out His hand and touched him, saying, “I am willing; be cleansed.”  matt 8:2-3  yes, He is willing.  Lord, i believe!  help my unbelief.  help all our unbelief.  even so, come quickly Lord Jesus!

[stirlingsports]

How to Style Your Nike Puffer Jacket – 5 Ways to Wear

Your Nike Puffer Jacket may be the warmest, most useful coat you own, but it doesn't necessarily mean it looks its best. Some of the ways that people most commonly wear their Nike puffer jackets are unflattering and just plain wrong! Check out these 5 ways to style your Nike puffer jacket, so it always looks as good as it feels! This article will also show why some of the more common ways people wear their Nike puffer jackets are not the best to use when going about your day-to-day life!

Layer Over a T-Shirt

A puffer jacket is a layering essential, so don't hesitate to wear it with a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans for an easy yet on-trend look. The jacket adds warmth and protection from inclement weather without adding bulk underneath your clothes. Don't be afraid to shop around! You might find that buying online can save money and ensure you get your hands on the latest styles. Remember: When it comes to fashion, you get what you pay for!

With A Monochrome Athleisure Look

A monochrome athleisure look is a simple style for your Nike puffer jacket. It comes in tons of colours, prints and designs—but sometimes it pays off to keep things simple. Style your Nike down with a clean white tee, black leggings and some cool kicks. Throw in an oversize bag and some jewellery for an easy look that's still super stylish. And don't forget to throw on a pair of cute gloves so you can keep warm during those cold winter months! The key here is confidence—if you feel great wearing it, go for it! And if not? You can always mix up your look by throwing on some accessories or adding another layer underneath.

With Cozy Knits And Sneakers

The trend of puffer jackets with sneakers is all over stores. While it can be a fashion risk, remember that you don't have to go overboard. Pairing your warmest jacket and thick knit booties or sneakers is perfect for these chilly days. A warmer day calls for an open front with flowers, but if it's cold enough, even those florals need some warmth; throw a scarf around your neck and pair it with thicker pants and boots. Going against the norm: If you are feeling daring, try pairing your Nike puffer jacket with something other than sneakers like loafers or flats. Make sure they match in colour, so there aren't any awkward textures between your outfit pieces.

With Faux-Leather Leggings And Combat Boots

The first way to style your puffer jacket is with a chic combat boot look. Start by putting on your favourite pair of faux-leather leggings. I like how they help make my legs look longer and thinner. Then throw on your favourite t-shirt or a blouse; just make sure it looks good when tucked in! Finally, put on your jacket and pull up your collar until it feels snug (the tighter you keep it, the longer you'll be able to wear it!). Some people think that if a jacket doesn't fit perfectly off-the-rack, it's not worth getting. But trust me: many jackets are sold too large for retailers' tastes, which allows us, consumers, more room for personalisation!

Best For A Travel Outfit

Today I'm going to share how I wear my puffer jacket. As an avid traveller, I rely on a comfortable and durable jacket for long flights. While puffer jackets have been extremely popular for years, one of my favourite brands is upgrading its classics with new colours and styles—and that's exactly what we're focusing on today. For example, you can now purchase a stylish puffer from Nike in various colours, including red and green. Now that's something worth showing off! Here are five ways to style your Nike Puffer Jacket.

Source: https://dailybloggingnz.wordpress.com/2022/06/21/how-to-style-your-nike-puffer-jacket-5-ways-to-wear/

#nike puffer jacket

[toxoiddiamond]

T H E B A S I C S Given Name: Manaia Ngatoko Nicknames: Mana, Manny (but only Nick is allowed to call him that) Age: 45 Birthday: December 2nd Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Birthplace: Christchurch, New Zealand Current Location: Auckland, New Zealand Speaks: Te Reo Maori, English Dominant Hand: Right Education: Graduated from the University of Auckland with a degree in Early Childhood Development, then went on to get his Master’s degree in Teaching. Occupation: He teaches kids in year one and two (5-7 year olds) at Newmarket Primary School, and also teaches an Early Childhood Development class at the Imperial College of New Zealand. Vehicle: 2002 Kia Sportage in silver Worldly Possessions: Things They Own Pet(s): Two cats– one a Russian Blue named Ozzy, and the other a Bombay Cat named Zeppelin.

A P P E A R A N C E Height: Just over 6’ Hair: Thick and wavy/curly, mostly gray with some dark hair mixed in. Facial Hair: Yes, but he keeps it pretty short and well-maintained. It’s very salt-and-peppery, though his beard has stayed darker than his hair. Eye Colour: Dark brown Skin Tone: Definitely brown, with olive undertones. He tends to get much darker in the summer since he spends much more time outdoors. Clothing: He dresses casually the vast majority of the time, but he always looks pulled-together. He’s a fan of jeans and t-shirts (he has a large collection of band tees), and when he’s at work, he’ll usually throw on a button-up or a nice sweater so he looks more professional. Distinguishing Marks: Some scars here and there from various childhood injuries. A more noticeable/distinctive scar on his abdomen from having his appendix out as a teenager. Face Claim: Taika Waititi

H E A L T H Physical Health: Pretty dang good. He’s not a health fanatic or anything, but he does take decent care of himself. He exercises on a regular basis, generally eats well, and doesn’t get sick very often. He does have some issues with high blood pressure, which he now takes medication for– but other than that, he’s in good health. Physical Abilities/Limitations: He can play the guitar, and often makes up songs for his students either to help them learn or make them laugh. He’s a strong swimmer and goes swimming whenever he gets the opportunity. Addictions: None Allergies: Lucky for him, none. Mental Health: Not bad. Mana is, for the most part, an optimist, and always tries to see the best in any given situation. He has experienced depression in the past, especially after his divorce and after his younger sister’s death, but his mental health is very stable in general.

H I S T O R Y Summary: Long or Short Job History: His first job was at a commercial cleaning company, during college– it fit with his schedule well since he could go to his classes during the day and work at night. When he looks back on it, he’s not sure how he managed to get by with so little sleep. His next job was at a daycare center, which helped him build some experience working with children. He did enjoy the work and liked being around the kids, but he didn’t stay for very long, since he was soon hired by Newmarket Primary School, where he has now taught for about 20 years. Fondest Memories: Going to summer camp every year as a kid and getting to see his best friend Nick. Volunteering as a counselor at that same camp, along with Nick, once they were too old to actually be campers. Various trips to visit Nick, or times when Nick was able to come and visit him. His wedding day (though that memory is bittersweet now). The births of his children. All the fun visits/trips with Nick and the kids. Basically any memory with Nick, honestly~ Worst Experiences: His appendix bursting when he was thirteen and landing him in the hospital for nearly two weeks (though he had a lot of fun recounting the story, and all the grizzly details, to all his friends later). His mother dying of an aneurysm when Mana was twenty. His divorce from his wife (although it wasn’t an ugly divorce by any means, it was still hard on them, especially the kids). His younger sister dying in a car accident.

C O M M U N I C A T I O N Speech Pace/Style: Smooth Talker Accent: Perhaps British.. or Southern Favorite Phrases or Words: Like ‘Jiminy Christmas!’ Usual Curse Words: F U U U U U U C K

P E R S O N A L I T Y, M I N D S E T, A N D B E L I E F S Personality Type: Myer Briggs Sense of Humor: Funny or Lame Habits: Nail Bitter or Something Quirks: Something Fears/Phobias: Something Strengths: Something Flaws: Something Hopes/Desires: Something Wildest Fantasy: Something Self-Esteem: Something Religion: Something

R A N D O M Sleeping Position: Something Boxers or Briefs?: Something Day or Night?: Something Top or Bottom?: Something Partying or Relaxing?: Something

R E L A T I O N S H I P S Closest Friend: Something Relationship History: Something Sexual Partners: Something Thoughts About Sex: Something

P A R E N T S Name(s): Tamati Ngatoko, Mila Ngatoko Age(s): His father is 70. His mother passed away at the age of 43. Social Standing: Blue collar, white collar, whatever Occupation(s): What they do Religion: What do they believe Quality of Relationship With His Children: Is good or bad? Living/Deceased: Maybe they dead

S I B L I N G (S) Name(s): Kora King, Hana Ngatoko Age(s): Kora is 47, and Hana passed away at the age of 32. Social Standing: Blue collar, white collar, whatever Occupation(s): What they do Religion: What do they believe Quality of Relationship with Character: Is good or bad? Living/Deceased: Maybe they dead

C H I L D R E N Name(s): Aria Ngatoko, Kauri Ngatoko, Willow Ngatoko Age(s): Aria is 17, Kauri is 12, and Willow is nearly 3. Interests: Aria is a pretty average 17-year-old– she’s very outgoing, she likes to hang out with her friends, go shopping, she’s very boy-crazy and has a new boyfriend every few weeks, etc. She took an interest in coding as a young teen and now plans to major in computer science and hopefully find work in video game development. Kauri has been in dance classes since he was about three years old, and has now tried out many different styles of dance. His favorites are contemporary and ballet. He’s a lot more shy and reserved than Aria and doesn’t tend to make friends as easily. Willow is technically Mana’s niece, but he adopted her after his younger sister passed away, leaving a three-month-old Willow with no one to care for her. She is now a toddler who enjoys splashing in mud puddles, randomly screaming, climbing on anyone who stands still long enough, and launching herself off of furniture in order to give Mana a heart attack. Quality of Relationship with Character: Mana absolutely adores all of his children and is immensely proud of them. They love Mana as well, though Aria is definitely in the middle of her “oh-my-god-my-dad-is-so-embarrassing” phase.

D A I L Y L I F E Living Arrangements: Where they live

#character: manaia ngatoko #ship: manic #character sheet

[sidedirt]

Doodles of Adrien swimming in his bfs large tees

#he is smol #also doesn’t help how large their tees are I mean #adrien agreste #miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb adrien #miraculous adrien #adrinino #lukadrien

[erodasfishtacos]

Not Your Charity Case

prompt: Harry is a frat boy - who doesn’t need sympathy from anyone. He makes Y/N feel a sense of home when they’re together. But is Harry just like every stereotypical frat boy?

word count: 6.2k 

warnings: minor violence, language, deaf!harry, smutttt

other: when Harry is talking to Y/N or any other characters - it is to be noted that he is signing. When Y/N talks to Harry - she is also always signing

Let me know if you’d want to see anything else from this verse:)

+++

You were rushed - you really shouldn’t stop at the local coffee shop for a sugary, delicious mocha chip frappuccino.

Despite what people say, professors are much more lax and carefree in college.

It was about two weeks into the new semester, - your third here- and the seasons were changing - becoming autumn.

Chilled breezes, falling leaves, and vivid colors of nature made you happy.

When you arrive in line, there are two people ahead of you. A girl currently in front of the cashier and a tall male with a red and black flannel on behind her- typing away on his phone.

When she moves to the left, the broad man steps forward. His snapback facing backwards, brown curls dancing around his neck. You can’t help but notice how tall and lean he is, shoulders broad and straight.

You definitely haven’t seen him before on campus. You’d remember.

From what you can see, he shows the young girl behind the counter the screen of his phone without saying anything at all.

The raven-haired girl’s face pinches in annoyance. “We don’t accept orders like that. You need to tell me what you want.”

You’re a little surprised by both the rude cashier but also the man who doesn’t respond right away.

He attempts to show her his phone again but she shakes her head - annoyed.

You become interested in the situation when I watch him sign, a few gestures before pointing to his ears. In the most obvious form of saying “I can’t hear.”

The clueless girl gives him a blank look, “Listen, there’s a line. I don’t have time for this.”

You hoped you weren’t overstepping your boundaries when you slide up next to him, tapping him on his shoulder to get his attention.

It is a bit startling how gorgeous the boy is. He was tanned with bright green-eyes and a defined jawline that was currently clenched in frustration.

You sign, “What are you trying to order?”

He studies you for a second with hesitance before his long slim fingers begin to move, slowly as if he thinks you may be inexperienced in the form of language.

He replies, “Large coffee with a little cream and two sugars.”

You squeeze in front of him, “It is not only rude but illegal to not serve based on disabilities. Refusing an order from a deaf person isn’t moral or acceptable.”

The girl has enough decency to mumble an apology and turned bright pink, “Sorry, he doesn’t look deaf. “You roll your eyes - how can you tell that someone is deaf based on solely appearance? This girls a fucking idiot, you think.

You repeat his order to her, along with yours - sliding your debit card towards her and give her your name for the order.

The man trails behind you to the small waiting area. “Thank you,” he signs simply. You nod and return the pleasantry. The. hand him his steaming hot coffee.

“Thank you again. I’m going to be late to class, so I have to go,” he tells me, seeming a little out of place signing with a stranger.

“Go ahead, I’ll see you around.” It was the first time in a long time you’ve signed to anyone outside your family.

+++

Sipping your drink as you are only five minutes late and the class hasn’t even started yet. The man you just helped was sat in the back of the classroom, unloading his laptop.

With a little bravery, you wriggle your way through and plop into the wooden chair easily. Letting your backpack fall to the ground. Curly looks over at you with a frown, he signs, “Why are you sitting next to me?”

You blush, “I don’t know? Thought it’d be good to have someone to talk to.”

His hands are tense as he replies, “I’m not a charity case, so you can leave me alone.”

“Never said you were,” you huff when you tell him. Not appreciating how rude he was being. Signing had its own tones and expressions so to speak. For example, when someone is happy their signs and movements are different than when they’re sad or frustrated.

Harry seems to be the latter. You wrestle out your laptop to the PowerPoint that was going to be discussed today in class. You noticed Harry stared very intently at the professor to read his lips and expression.

You was surprised he didn’t have an interpreter with him but you’re sure he got special accommodations elsewhere. Even though that was absolutely none of your business.

His shoulders are tensed and he makes sure your arms don’t brush like you have cooties for the entire two hours. The nameless boy is up and out of his seat as soon as the professor shuts off the projector and turns on the lights - signaling class to be over.

Well fuck him then.

***

You don’t make the mistake to sit next him again. But that doesn’t mean you could ogle his strong muscular back and big hands.

It wasn’t your place to care but you felt twinges in your tummy when you noticed him struggling to keep up with the fast-speed class on certain days.

You were in the large, rustic library that smelled of old books and damp wallpaper. It was dead silent as people furiously studied or worked on papers due.

As you paced the shelves, you could not find the book you needed for your American Literature class. Fuck the Dewey Decimal System.

Part-time uni students probably just stuffed returned books in any open space they saw fit. But you need this book in particular, a discussion board post due by midnight and it was currently eight-thirty. They had ran out of copies at the on-campus bookstore.

After a valiant effort, you trudge up to the checkout counter. A little sign reads, “ring me if no ones here!”

You impatiently ring the silver bell. But no one comes. You give whoever is working a minute or two but nothing. Another ring it is.

Silence. No one. Of fucking course, luck is not on your side tonight.

You dramatically clunk your head onto the high counter top in front of you - groaning at the fact you may fail the assignment.

A tentative pat on your shoulder makes you snap your head up. To see the boy you’ve been constantly avoiding standing behind the checkout desk.

“Are you okay?” He asks. He had a name-tag on - Harry. He honestly looked a bit out of place. Harry appeared to be a frat boy. He was still had a boyish air about him but an intensity that was unmatchable.

He didn’t look like he would work in the library. He looked like...well he looked like he would be a beer pong referee or something.

You couldn’t see below his torso but he had a plain black snapback on and a vintage Elton John concert tee. A cross necklace dangling over the worn shirt.

You smile, embarrassed, but reply, “Just being dramatic. I can’t find a book and I was waiting here.”

There’s mirth in his eyes when he points to the bell,”Did you ring the bell?”

Your brows furrow, “I did.”

“Well I can’t hear it, I’m deaf,” he deadpans with a straight face and a dry sense of humor.

You roll your eyes, laughing nervously, “I didn’t know you were working!”

“What do you need?”

He helps you locate the book in two minutes flat before checking you out and you rushing home to finish the homework.

You felt bad ignoring your little sister’s FaceTime calls but you promised to call her back tomorrow. 

***

Though once again, you hadn’t interacted with Harry since last week - you constantly found yourself studying his stoic profile or fast moving fingers.

You would never befriend Harry because you feel bad for him - like he presumed. You enjoyed American Sign Language and it actually made you feel back at home.

You’re little sister was born completely deaf. She was much younger than you - eight years old. Fifteen years apart to be exact. You learned the language along with her and your parents.

When you were at home and your sister was there - you guys tried to only sign so she didn’t feel left out. So Harry felt like home - a little despite his completely off-putting demeanor. It made you a little bit more persistent than with any other frat boy.

***

The bulletin board in your advisor’s office caught your eyes. None of the little tabs ripped off in interest.

‘Student with ASL experience and above a 3.5 GPA needed for tutoring sessions - twice weekly. $16 dollars an hour.’

After your meeting, you tugged the little scrap of paper off and tuck it into your pocket. You couldn’t know for sure if it was Harry but you didn’t know of any other deaf students in the program.

You say ‘fuck it’ and type out an email to the advisor of academic affairs and accommodations to throw your hat in the ring.

***

You don’t hear back for three days - nearly forgetting about it in the mean time. Your eyes scan quickly over the email to grant you the position. They include contact information for no other than Harry Styles.

After psyching yourself out a little and a few paces across your kitchen tiles - you text him.

Hey! I’m your new assigned tutor. Would you like to set up a time and place? As well as what kind of help you’re looking for.

The reply text comes shortly after

Hello, thank you very much. I am just in need of hearing ears. I am deaf and have a hard time keeping up with the my professor. I have begun recording the lectures in hope that you can sign then to me.

Sure thing. That won’t be a problem!

I live in Alpha Sigma on 3rd street. I have my own room. I’d rather not have the tutoring session in public. However, if that makes you uncomfortable - we can figure something out.

You take a minute to debate. You understand why this would be a task too loud for the library and why he’d want privacy. You didn’t feel like I’d be uncomfortable with him.

I saw twice a week so does Tuesday and Thursday at seven work?

Sounds great. Thank you again x

Did he know it was me? Was he expecting it to me?

***

He was definitely not expecting you. You automatically knew that by the way his friendly smile dissipated into a frown when he opened the door for you.

You attempted to look nice today without trying too hard. A loose crop top with the university’s name, a pair of tight black leggings, bulky white socks bunched at your ankles, and white sneakers. Very 80’s.

You try to keep your composure, “Hi Harry, I’m going to be your tutor.”

He slowly nods at you, huffing out a breathe of irritation before inviting you into the frat house.

You’d only been here once or twice for a party so you had no idea what the house actually looked like when there weren’t bodies and booze everywhere.

He’s walking you past a group of boys playing FIFA on the flatscreen in the living room, white claws open everywhere.

“Y/N! Hey babe!” You look over to see Niall - one of your good friends from your part-time job at the bookstore - trotting over to you guys.

The blonde pulls you into an overexcited hug. He reminded you of a cuddly, soft puppy dog most of the time.

“Are you Harry’s little tutor?” Niall coos, leaning over to pinch Harry’s cheek. 

Harry- who was observing the conversation, focusing in on our lips, immediately bats his friend away. A small scowl forming on his face.

It automatically turns into a playful brawl where Niall tugs Harry into headlock. But he has no strength on the brunette.

Harry turns out of it quickly and pushes Niall to the ground. He straddles his stomach and begins to jokingly pinch and slap at him.

Niall hisses, “Ouch! You motherfucker! Big oaf!”

Then you don’t know why you find this endearing but Niall signs the word, “uncle” a few times to signal he’s accepted his lost.

The fact that they wrestle so much that Niall learned to sign how to give up made you giggle more than it should.

Harry crawls off of him, running a hand through his messy curls, his face a little flushed.

“I’ll talk to you later!” You tell Niall as your trailing behind Harry up a flight of stairs.

His room is extremely neat. A fluffy navy comfort decorated his bed with a few photos of flowers and nature on his wall. A tidy desk tucked away in the corner that had all of his school work loaded on top of it.

He chooses to sit in his desk chair, motioning for you to perch on his bed. You look at him expectantly when he pulls out the tape recorder and sets it on the surface.

He pulls his laptop into his lap and begins signing, “I need you to transcribe the lecture for me so I can follow it. We can skip through the bits where he is rambling or off topic.”

You nod, letting him know to begin whenever he’s ready. He presses the side button and the recording starts but it super unclear and garbled.

“Did you record this from your seat?” You ask, the professors words nearly inaudible and fuzzy.

“Yes.”

“You need to bring it to the front of the room. Ask Dr. Morrison  to lay it on his desk before class. I can’t hear anything but static and mumbles,” You tell him.

He laughs and shakes his head. His movements rough and angry, “Of course its fucked up. I get you as my tutor and then the recorder is shit.”

You glare at him, offended as you haven’t done anything to this boy. “Excuse me? I’ve literally been trying to help since I’ve meet you. What is your fucking issue?”

“I’m not a charity case! I don’t need you to feel bad for me. I’m not helpless! You’re probably just a silly little girl who took ASL in high school because it was cool and trendy. Go back to focusing on psych.”

“Fuck you, Harry,” Your gestures getting sharper and your face sour, “You know nothing about me so don’t act like you do. I don’t feel bad for you or think that you’re helpless.” You put up a hand and tell him to not talk.

“I was just being nice because I thought you were handsome and at first, seemed friendly. It turns out you’re just like every douchebag frat boy I’ve met. What a disappointment,” You chuckle, swinging your bag on your shoulder and storm out of the room without another look.

***

The cafe was jammed packed - it was Waffle Wednesday. You had said waffles in your tray and were about to plop down on a stool when you hear your name being called.

“C’mere, come sit with us!” He hollers over the commotion of the crowd. Niall.

You’re about to decline when some dude slips behind you and snags the stool. Shit.

A bit unwillingly you slide into the booth next to Niall, cracking open your sparkling water. “Mates, this is Y/N, we work at the store together and she’s Harry’s tutor,” he tells them. “Y/N, this is Liam and Louis.”

“Hello,” you try your best to come off as friendly even though you can feel Harry’s glare on the side of your face. You ended up falling to easy conversation with the boys. Niall has a very limited ASL vocabulary but tries.

The boys are also trying to talk slower and more pronounced so Harry can watch and understand. A couple of times he taps Niall on the wrist to repeat what was going on.

Your phone begins buzzing and you apologize for the interruption. It’s your little sister, Mazie, FaceTiming.

You answer the phone with a frown, signing “Aren’t you suppose to be in school?”

Mazie looks upset, eyes a little watery. She gestures back, “I left early. I’m sick.”

“Are you really sick or where you getting bullied again?” You asks her.

Your sister hesitates before sniffling, “You already know. I hate my school.” 

Mazie has had other children bully her for her disability since she started preschool and it as still happening in fourth grade.

“What can I do to help?” You frown, never wanting to see your baby sister cry.

You chat for a few minutes to help her calm down. When the phone call ends, you don’t realize that all the boys were watching you in interest. Harry in particular, keeps his focus on you with a wrinkled forehead.

“My sister’s deaf,” You tell them. The whole time you’ve been sitting with them you’ve been signing and verbally speaking to help everyone be able to be included in the conversation.

“That’s sick!” Louis says, smacking Harry’s arm. “Just like our lad Harry.” 

Harry grumbles when Louis shakes him a little. It seems like the boys loved to physically interact with Harry which was endearing.

Harry allows him to for a moment before he flicks his cheek hard and laughs when Louis flinches. The conversation goes back to normal.

***

Harry jogs up to you after your group shares farewells and a few punches. You pointedly ignore him as you trek to the class you two have together so it’s not like he can’t walk this way too.

“Please, wait,” Harry asks. He walks in front of you.

“What do you want?” You huff, keeping my glare firm and directed alley at him.

“I’m sorry. I made the wrong assumption.”

“You made a lot of wrong assumptions. The fact that you think of me so lowly is sad. I’ve been nothing but nice,” You try not to focus on his large palms that curve over the caps of your shoulders.

“I’m not very trusting of people.”

You snort rather unattractively, “No kidding”

“Can we please start over?” He asks, stepping back to give you space. He didn’t realize how close he’d been standing to you until your hair wisps across his nose.

“One more chance, Styles.”

Harry lays a hand on your upper arm and squeeze lightly before signing the simple gesture of ‘thank you.’

***

It turns out Harry is very handsy and physically affectionate. It wasn’t creepy though or something that ever made you feel uncomfortable.

You were still tutoring him but you hung around the frat with Harry nearly everyday. The days you just wanted to lay in bed resulted in a grumpy FaceTime from Harry.

Harry once stated during a tutoring session, “It is easier for me to show how I’m feeling with touch than words. If I ever make you uncomfortable - please tell me and I will stop.”

You smile slyly at his words that sounded more like a question, asking if he can touch you. “I guess I’ll let you feel me up every now in again.”

He giggles and looks down wolfishly - like an entertaining thought is dancing around in his mind.

You tuck your finger under his chin to gaze at you. “In all seriousness, I give you my consent to show your feelings with physical touch. I trust you and know you won’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

The curly-haired brunette smiles happily, his hand cupping the side of your neck and brushing over your pulse point.

He hadn’t touched you here before and it seems like it was his first goal to do so once he got permission. You can’t help but take in a deep gasp of air. You prayed he didn’t notice but by the small lift of his lips he did.

The simple touch made a flame of arousal swirl in your lower stomach. You felt like you were about to start sweating.

“Anyways,” You clear your throat and snatch back up the recorder. It now had better quality after Harry listened to you about placement.

***

The frat house was ridiculously full of drunk college students. Everybody on the dance floor was sweaty and sticky with a variety of different substances.

Niall had invited you - so you were searching about for him. Pushing through the crowd and nobody was able to hear you say ‘excuse me.’

You finally found fresh air in the backyard where beer pong and cornhole were set up. Niall was tossing his ball across the table, trying to splash in Liam’s red solo cups.

Harry was sitting on a cushioned patio chair, watching the game commence. Maybe he was a beer pong referee after all. 

He looked so fucking good tonight. He had a yellow snapback taming his curls - backwards of course. A black Rage Against the Machine shirt and his signature black skinny jeans. **

You made eye contact and were about to wave when a girl plopped down in the seat across from him.

Awkwardly you turn away, greeting the other boys and taking a seat in a lawn chair to watch them start their third round of the game.

Your eyes keep darting over to Harry who is staring blankly at the girl. She starts stroking his biceps and tracing across the tattoos like they belong to her.

Harry is attempting to let her know he’s not interested. His signs uselessly as she’s staring at his lips and not hands.

You’re moving before you know it, without another thought, you squeeze in between the two - separating them. You dramatically slide into his lap, funnily enough one strong arm wrapping happily around your middle.

The pretty blonde pouts out her lips, “Is he your boyfriend?”

Before you’re able to reply, Harry signs the obvious signal for ‘yes’ to the girl. Then rudely makes the shooing gesture. She’s up with a huff and stomping back towards the house.

Harry turns you sideways on his lap so that you two can see each other’s hands, “You saved me.”

“You’re just such a stud, have to protect you,” You joke - but not really.

He raising his eyebrows and smiles, “You were jealous.” It was a statement not a question.

You blush wildly, avoiding eye contact which you know he hates. He hates anytime you cut off ways of communication.

Harry taps your lips until you look up at him, “it’s really fucking sexy when you are.” A perk of sign language. He could dirty talk just about anywhere and mostly no one would ever know.

His thumb drags on your full bottom lip, signing clumsily with one hand so you had to use context clues to piece it together “Don’t think I forgot when you called me handsome a few months ago.”

“I don’t remember, doesn’t sound like me,” You boldly lie, snickering and nipping at the top of his thumb

His eyes become a shade darker when your teeth meet his skin. He presses his thumb further in until it’s in-between your teeth. The moment is broken when Niall screams, “Styles! You’re up next!”

**

You and Harry become separated after you spent nearly two hours watching all these drunk boys play beer pong. Harry was ridiculously good at the game and only had to drink two cups from the table.

You had wandered back into the house where the party had died down. There were only a handful of stragglers left but mostly just the fraternity brothers and their close friends.

With a fresh alcoholic seltzer in your hand - you didn’t trust open bottles at parties like this - you gaze at Harry through the back window.

Harry was being jumped by Liam and Niall. He was snarling playfully as Liam toppled them all over into the grass. Niall tries to stand up but Harry’s hand wraps around his ankle and makes him fall right back on his bum with a girlish squeal.

Niall leans over to give Harry a wet-willy but Liam manages to throw a plastic cup directly at Niall’s forehead. Harry and the other boys dissolve in childish giggles. Faces red from laughter and liquor. You feel a smile painted fondly on your lips from watching them.

“Hey, Y/N right?” A voice interrupts from behind.

You spin to face a guy you barely recognize from a previous class you shared. You smile nonetheless, “Hi...”

“Jake, Jake from Social Constructs and Society last semester.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right,” You smile and allow him to talk your ear off because you struggle to say ‘no.’ He was fine, nothing special, typical business major who thought he was hot shit because his daddy owned a golf course he wanted to take you to.

It was a normal conversation until his voice gets lower as if he’s trying to be more seductive, “Want to head to a room with me?” He nods towards the staircase.

You chuckle in disbelief at his bold and forward question. “No thank you, I’m good.” You really had eyes for one person right now and he was currently cussing out Niall in sign language in the backyard before tackling him once again to the ground.

“C’mon, I can really show you a good time,” He persuades persistently, stepping into your space - causing your nervousness to spike.

“I said - no thank you,”You bite out, starting to feel scared when he blocks your way out of the kitchen and presses himself against you and the counter.

“You’re really something gorgeous, you know?” He asks, ignoring my struggles to get away from him.

“Stop touching me!” You scream, hoping Niall or one of the boys would hear your wail. He puts a hand up to your mouth to muffle you but that only results in you biting him.

“Fucking bitch!” He cries out, pulling his hand back and winding up to either punch or slap you right in the face. You prepare for the impact.

Then in a blink off an eye, it becomes a blur, a muscular figure is crashing into Jake with full force and knocking him straight into the linoleum floor with a loud crash.

It’s Harry. Broad shoulders and thick but lean tattooed biceps. He’s standing over the harasser and drops on top of him. It shouldn’t look as graceful and tactful as it does.

You’d never seen anything like this from Harry before. Once you really got to know him - he was a gentle giant who liked romantic comedies, soft blankets, and vanilla cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles.

Harry’s fist is repeatedly connecting with the dark-haired boy’s jaw with full force. The only noise is from Jake as Harry is dead silent but his eyes zeroed in on the target.

When blood begins gushing from the man’s nose - Niall and Liam decide it times to physically pull Harry up. Harry had a slight red mark on his jaw when Jake had managed one punch before being defeated quickly.

Harry signs to Niall, “Tell him.”

Niall places his foot on the dude’s chest to keep him down, “My mate wants to let you know if you touch her again we’re not going to pull him off and he’ll gladly beat you to a fucking pulp.”

Jake groans, clutching his nose to stop the bleeding, “Fuckin’ asshole.” 

You were still blown away as you watch Harry’s heaving chest as he glares down at the boy. His fist clenched and knuckle bloody and swollen. Harry’s attention turns towards you. His furious expression melts into worry. You can read his face so clearly. He’s afraid he’s scared you off.

It was hard to believe you had this drop dead gorgeous frat boy defending you past midnight on a Friday night. A boy who didn’t need to hear but just to see you needed help to step in.

All your desires and lusts after the man in front of you burst like a rubber-band and the urge to have him felt uncontrollable. “Take me upstairs,” you demand quickly, arousal creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t understand you’re extremely turned on. Instead he looks like a kicked dog who’s about to get in trouble again.

Nevertheless, he takes your hand and maneuvers out of the kitchen and up the stairs until his bedroom door is closed.

Harry lips are turned down unhappily as he begins, “I’m sorry, love. I...” he pauses a moment before continuing. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I hope you don’t think less of me.”

You look him dead in the eye and sign, “Kiss me.”

He blinks slowly at you like he just hallucinate the gestures.

So you repeat your motions, slow and with intent, “Kiss me, touch me, do something.” No more time is wasted as he is stepping in front of you and cupping your face in his hands.

Without any hesitation now, he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips - taking your bottom one between his and sucking.

Your hands are immediately tugging at the hem of his vintage shirt, pulling apart to bring it over his head. Dark ink decorates his torso, for some reason something you weren’t expecting. A butterfly on his abdomen, two fern branches, tattoos on his side.

Harry chuckles, “This is new to me.”

Your eyes go wide and you sign, “You’re a virgin?”

Harry snorts and rolls his eyes before telling you, “God no. I mean I’ve never been able to really communicate during sex.”

Then before You can speak, he cuts in a bit frantically, “I’ve always gotten consent - not like that. I mean-“ You cut him off with a kiss - knowing he would never do anything you didn’t want.

You wanted everything from him.

“If you’d believe it, I like a bit of dirty talk when I fuck - but no one understands what I’m saying,” He tries to crack a joke but for some reason seems insecure and nervous.

“Hey,” You take his chin so he shyly meets your eye, “I can’t wait to hear it - you’ve already made me so wet.” His eyes light up like a kid on Christmas.

“You’re such a good girl,” he signs before tugging off your shirt and instantly finding your lips again. His hands are skillful as they unclasp your bra without any struggle and tosses it.

You tugs a bit as his hair to show your enjoyment as his tongue finds your nipple - lapping before taking it between his teeth. As good as it feels, you want him to feel even better.

You push him back until he’s sitting in the edge of the bed, legs spread and hands behind him on either side holding him up. Jaw clenched with arousal and restraint.

He’s pressed against the zipper of his jeans. And all you wanted to do was see him in all of his glory. You’re quick to undo the button and determined to get the finicky zipper down as well.

His fingers come beneath your chin until you’re looking at his sparkling eyes, a look of lust made his lids a little droopier and his mouth slack from heavy-breathing.

“Are you sure you want to? You don’t have to - I want to eat your pussy either way, pet,” He signs, leaning in for a slow, wet kiss.

You sign back with a pout, “Shut the fuck up.” He huffs out a laugh, letting go of your chin and wrapping a hand in your hair to keep it out of your face.

As soon as he’s helping you wriggle his briefs and jeans down his narrow hips, you’re met with the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen.

When you make eye contact with Harry, he raises a eyebrow and grins cockily, “Is it nice enough for your liking, love?”

You nod breathlessly - wasting no more time before ducking down to take him to your mouth, a slight burning in your throat from how big he is.

His hands keep ahold of your hair, thumbs pressed against your temples as you bob down his length with sloppy, warm licks.

Harry’s moaning as you pop off to kiss and suck at the underside of him, hands coming to cup and roll his balls. It is a few moments later when he taps your cheek to get your attention, one hand leaving his hair to sign that he’s close.

Your mouth speeds up, wanting to give him all the pleasure you could. Your hand coming to stroke at what couldn’t fit in your mouth, pumping quickly.

Before you know it, Harry’s rutting his hips upwards and coming with a long, deep moan from the rumbles of his chest. He’s pulling you up into his lap, pressing appreciative kisses to your cheeks and jawline.

Big hands palming at your breasts before slipping down into your leggings, brushing softly over your mound. 

You whine and hitch forward to grind against his palm as soon as he cups you. He smiles widely at your desperation, pressing the heel of his palm harder against you to create more pressure.

You were already so wet and turned on that it wasn’t going to take much. The ball of your climax was burning low in your tummy. However, you wanted him to taste you like he said he would.

You sign, “I’m close. Please, I want your mouth on me.”

With that, he’s flipping you until you’re laid out on the bed. His hands tugging off your leggings and underwear with no further ado. “Holy shit,” He gestures, gazing all over your body and not stopping on one spot for too long.

“What?” You ask, fishing for the compliments you know he’s about to shower you in.

“You’ve got such a pretty pussy,” he signs, dimples popping in his cheeks and a curious finger traces your entrance before dipping in.

You lightly kick at his stomach, “Get on me.” He pouts, crooking his finger against your spot before pulling it out. Fucking tease.

Then his face is disappearing between your spread thighs and a strong lick is delivered from your clit all the way down to your bum.

Since he can’t hear you, you grabs handfuls off his hair. Tugging at the roots, scratching your nails into his scalp to let him know how good he is. So fucking good.

When you accidentally buck your hips hard against his mouth, you curse and run a apologetic hand through the locks. He doesn’t look up at you but lift a hand and signs, “Again.”

You absolutely whine, begging to ride him with determination - climax on the brink. He hums causing vibrations on the sensitive nerves. With that, your hips are meeting his tongue and you’re coming. His face dampening with your release - happy as a clam when he pops back up.

You can’t remember the sign for condom, so you sign, “Protection?” Harry understands right away, rustling through the drawer until he finds a stray packets, “It’s been awhile.”

“Same,” You gestures - watching as he slides it down his length and crawls overtop of you. He was pink and swollen - having to be a bit sensitive from just coming a little while ago.

“Ready, love?” He asks, pressing soft kisses to your jawline. You nod, reaching down to guide him in.

And you weren’t lying, it had been a while and he was big. The stretch wasn’t uncomfortable, just a lot. But his wet, open-mouth kisses made you stay grounded.

Harry’s moans were absolutely obscene as he slide all the way in before stopping to give you a moment. His arms strong, holding himself over you. The cold metal of his necklaces brushing against your tight nipples.

When you have him the okay, he begin giving you deep, hard strokes on each thrust. His noises so loud they had to be able to hear them downstairs. They were deep and low - rumbling in his chest with pleasure.

Then his hand is coming to your throat. For a wild moment you thought he was going to choke you but instead he rest it lightly, palm flat.

It takes you a moment - then it hits you.

Holy fuck. He is feeling the vibrations of your moans - erupting from your vocal cords. Feeling out the movement from your throat so he can feel how much you’re enjoying it.

You should be embarrassed but you can’t find it in you when you come again right on the spot. His fingertips nudging into the skin to feel the intensity as it wracks through you.

When you’re done riding out your orgasm, he reaches for the headboard behind you with his other hand, gripping it tightly as he begins to pound in with all his strength.

The bedframe is hitting the wall so loud that the whole house must be able to hear it. Hitting with every directed thrust until his mouth is dropping down into a long, timbred moan and he’s coming.

---

Later, when the two are you have settled for the night in the warmth of his bed. Harry seems a little nervous, once again. It takes him a moment to meet your eyes and brushes a strand of hair off your forehead.

“What is it?” You ask, tucked into his side. His body so solid and comforting.

“It’s corny,” Harry frowns, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes flash across your face.

“Tell me,” You insist, bringing his hand to your lips to kiss his fingertips.

“I feel like you were made for me. Like...we were meant to be together,” Harry signs, hesitant to share his thoughts. But it doesn’t scare you away. You can’t help but agree.

“I think so too,” You reply before pressing another kiss to his puffy pink lips.

#Wow #here you go #sat on this for a hot minute #still not sure about it #yolo #deaf!harry #harry styles #harrystylesfanfic #harrystylessmut #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #Harry styles x you #harry styles x reader insert #harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles recommendations #harry styles masterlist #harry styles writing request

[kimnjss]

how sticky | kth

⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader // taehyung focus. ⇢ genre: smut. // pwp. ⇢ word count: 7.6K ⇢ theme: established relationships.  ⇢ rating: explicit. ⇢ warnings: cursing, dirty talk, poly relationship, handjobs, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), public sex, outdoor sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up lovelies), all the boys wanna kiss yn, cum inside/stuffing, slight over stimulation if you squint. ⇢ A/N: literally this idea came to me while watching the first episode and seeing tae washes the dishes sooo, here you goo!! lmao x also if it seems messy or all over the place, that’s bc i wrote this while streaming dynamite and obvi got distracted . 

Namjoon is the first to spot you, just as you're tugging your suitcase from the trunk of your car. The large grin that takes over his features as he makes his way over to you, brown hair flopping in the wind with each step he takes. A silver pot held in his hands that he must've forgotten the purpose of upon setting sights on you.

“You're here.” He says with a large smile, dimples showing while he leaning down to press a soft kiss to your waiting lips. “Did you eat?”

Just with one look around the backyard, you can tell that they just finished eating. Had hoped to arrive a bit earlier so you'd be able to eat with them. “Not yet,” He looked good, as usual, but oddly more attractive in this outdoor environment.

The blue two-piece outfit, which you had quickly realized was a favorite of his, hung loosely around his body. The muscles in his arms flexed as he kept his grip on the pot in his hand. Eyes turn to half-moons with the way he was smiling at you.

It had been a few weeks since you saw them last. What with their jam packed schedule and you keeping up with the things going on in your own life, there wasn't really time to be together the way you wanted. A constant long-distance relationship with the seven of them, even if they were only a few miles away.

Which was the biggest reason you were jumping on the chance to spend this week with them. Secluded with nothing to do but be together. It had been Jin who had suggested it, finding out that you had the same week free. What better way to spend it then with your boyfriends? Agreement coming from his younger members instantly and to your surprise, the staff was quick to agree as well. 

Most times riddled a distraction, but it seemed that you being here sort of fit the relaxation, recharging theme of this entire trip. Zero complaints from you, of course, you were packing your bags the moment you got the green light.

“I'll make you a plate, wait.”

All of a sudden remembering he had been in the middle of doing something before seeing you. Quick steps are taken into the house with the pot in hand and you're right behind him, marveling at the huge land they had rented out for this. All of the greens of the mountains and grass was a pretty contrast to the bright blue sky, the sparkling lake that you couldn't wait to try out.

And there was so much stuff! Placed all over the place from where you can see, each item matching a different member's personality so well that you could guess who asked for what. 

Joon is coming back, hands-free, but only to grab your suitcase, wheeling it into the house. He's gone talking to whoever is in the kitchen before he's returning, arm easily wrapping around your waist as he leads you down the hill.

“You came here looking refreshed,” He notes, finally saying out loud what he had been thinking since you were pulling the suitcase from the car.

Out of all of them, Namjoon seemed to pay a lot of attention to the way you looked. And no, not just the clothes you wore and how they fit – but like deeper. He paid a lot of attention to your facial expressions more than anything, reading your demeanor as if it was his latest page-turner.

A blessing and a curse, because although he knew when something was bothering you and tried his best to fix it without you saying a word. It was also really, extremely hard to hide things for him. Not that you tried to often.

“It was a nice drive and I'm excited to spend time with you guys,” The smile that takes over your features is causing a flutter in his heart, his large hand landing on your arm that you've wrapped around his torso – walking the rest of the way like that.

Jimin is whipping around at the sound of footsteps approaching, and you're eyes are widening at the sight of him. Unwrapping yourself from Joon's body, you're rushing the rest of your steps hands outstretched to touch the edge of the gat hanging from his neck.

“You actually wore it?” Speaking through a slight giggle and he's grinning, hands finding home on your torso as he playfully rolls his eyes. “Of course I wore it, so you better deliver,”

The result of a drunk game of Truth or Dare between the two of you. He spent the entire night choosing truth, but as soon as he was picking dare you were telling him to wear his new hanbok for the first day of shooting. He was agreeing with a roll of his eyes, boasting about how easy it was.

Then on your turn, he was hitting you with that sly grin of his. 'If I wear my hanbok for shooting, then you need to let me...' Words trailing off as he suggestively wiggled his eyebrows in your direction. You were quick to put two and two together of what he wanted. And you were agreeing because of course, you wanted it too.

With a distracted nod, your eyes are shifting to the moving figure behind him. “Of course, baby. Whatever you want.” Breaking from his grasp just as Namjoon is extending the full bowl in your direction.

You thank him with a wide smile, which he acknowledges with a short nod – going back to cleaning up while you take a seat at the table. Sat eating the food that you can tell was made by Jungkook as you watch your two men move around the yard until Joon is disappearing into the house again. Someone else exiting at the same time.

“I thought I heard your voice!” There's a smile in his voice that you can detect without having to listen very hard. And you're proven right as you lift your head, being met with Hoseok's bright smile. “When'd you get here?” He wonders once he's closer, taking the empty spot beside you.

“Not too long ago,” You speak through the mouthful of food in your mouth, the words you're speaking coming out a murmured mess. 

The smile on Hoseok's face only grows, his hand lifting to push his hair back on his forehead. “I missed you.” A random confession that has heat rising in your cheeks. He always did this. Knew what a few simple words did to your mind and took pleasure in making you flustered whenever possible.

This time was no different. Just three words and you were forced to put extra focus on your noodles. He missed you. Obviously, you missed him – that's a given. But the fact that he, Jung Hoseok actually missed you and was just telling you about it casually. With that smile on his face. Yeah, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“I missed you too.” A delayed reply, but he's not faltering. Doesn't even think twice about what you could have been thinking about in the time it took you to answer. Instead, he's reaching his arm to wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body into his so he's able to press a dozen chaste kisses to the top of your head.

And then just like that, he's releasing you. Not even giving you a moment to react before he's standing from his spot beside you and moving to help Jimin clean up the outside area.

After the third time, you're asked to scoot over, you're standing feeling as though you're in the way of the cleaning. So, you go to find the others that you haven't seen yet. Thanks to a FaceTime call from Jungkook while they were going through the tour, you had a pretty good understanding of the layout of this place.

Heading over the hill to the Upper House, bowl in hand. And you're grinning when you spot Jin standing out front, staring at the line of delivered groceries in front of him. “Jinnie!” You're calling with a wave of your hand, and he's turning around.

“Yn!” He calls, just as loud – waving you over with one frantic hand.

Easily speeding up your footsteps, it's not long before you're standing in front of him. Arms wrapped around his torso in a tight hug. “What are you doing?” He's out of your hold now, bending to lift the bags off the ground.

“Putting groceries away.”

Following behind him, you shovel mouthfuls of noodles into your mouth while sinking down at the island. For a little while, you're able to enjoy your meal and engage in broken chatter was Jin moves in and out of the house.

He's filling you in on all the plans he has for this trip and the things he's excited about and you listen with a smile on your face. Loving the way he looks when he's completely in his element, eyes sparkling as he talks about being able to fish with Yoongi.

Speaking of Yoongi. Sauntering out from God knows where, white tee hanging loose – revealing a bit of his chest, baggy black jeans that you've now decided is the only thing you ever want to see him in. His hair is unkempt, laying messily over his forehead and only slightly covering his eyes.

There's a smirk on his face when he notices the blatant way you're gawking at him, sinking into the seat beside you – his cold hand not hesitating to reach for your thigh. “You're here?” He speaks in the bored uninterested drawl that you've become used to. Use to read too much into it before you were realizing that just the way he talked.

Now it had the ability to have heat rushing through your veins, especially if he was using that voice when telling you just exactly he wanted to do to you. Never failed to have you basically salivating, putty for him.

“I just came...” The patterns he draws on your inner thigh stills as he lifts his eyes to look at you, a chuckle falling from his lips. “Did you?” He asks teasingly and you're too dazed to pick up on the double meaning of your words.

His hand inches further up your thigh until the tips of his fingers are just inches from reaching the hem of your mesh shorts. Without a thought, your legs are opening for him – giving him as much room as he needs to do whatever he wants.

Yoongi's grinning at your compliance, his lips are just inches for yours. He takes a moment to study your features. Lips shiny with grease, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes staring unfocused. A slow grin lifts the corners of his lips moments before he's leaning in closer.

Yoongi kisses you once as if he's testing the waters before diving in. Grip tightening on your thigh, pulling your body closer to his while he slowly moves his mouth over yours. Soft tongue slowly tracing over your lower lip and you're instantly opening up for him.

The groan that leaves his lips from the feeling of your wet muscles meeting as arousal rushing through your veins and pooling between your legs, fingers reaching to grasp the rough material of his pants for some type of grounding.

And he grins, teeth gently tugging at your lower lip as his hand slides up your thigh toward your waist. So sure he's fingers are about to sneak underneath your shirt, so you giddily wait for the contact. 

But it never comes. "Would you let the girl breathe, she just got here." Is what you hear.

Jimin, into the Upper House to change into something comfortable. And all too ready to scold his Hyung for trying something with you when it hasn't even been an hour. With a roll of those dark eyes of his, Yoongi is leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips – much different from what he had initially planned.

Moment ruined, he's standing from his spot beside you. “I'm gonna go help Jin,” He announces to no one in particular, cheeks darkened with pink from having been caught. Yoongi talked a big game, but he was the most private out of the boys. Wasn't one for an unwarranted audience and preferred to have you to himself rather than sharing you.

“Tae's washing dishes if you're done with that.” He's jutting his chin out to point at your empty bowl on the island. As he speaks, he undoes the tie of his top letting it sag at his shoulders before he's shrugging it off. And you watch his fingers carefully, allowing your mind to wander to just how skilled he was with those fingers.

Playing the same notes for the past eight years on the piano wasn't the only thing he was good at. It's a moment before you register his words enough to stand to your feet, plucking your plate up and exiting the Upper House to find Taehyung.

Back to you as he scrubs the inside of the bowl, you watch as his hips sway to whatever song he's got going in his head. No idea that you're entering the kitchen or that you've arrived – just in his own world.

Taehyung looks handsome even from the back. 

His broad shoulders were still visible underneath the brown top that was just so him. He wore a pair of olive green shorts, giving you a perfect view of his strong legs and the way they flexed with the movement of his feet. Thoroughly riled up from Yoongi's interrupted touches from before, you're struck with a very mischievous thought.

Light steps are taken in Taehyung's direction, quickly setting your bowl in the sink before reaching your arms to wrap around his waist. Palms sneaking underneath the fabric of his shirt so you're able to touch his soft belly. You feel him still against you, taking a moment to put together that it's you back hugging him like this.

He's turning just enough so he can look down at you, a large smile spread across his lips as his eyes take in your face that looks brighter for some reason. “How long have you been there?” Tae tries to hug you back but gives up because of the awkward position.

“Not long,” You answer, nose pressed in the dip of his back after he's turned. Your lips place soft kisses against his covered back, the tips of his fingers brushing over the skin of his stomach. “I missed you.”

And you had. There was just something about Taehyung that drove you crazy with little to no effort. Had to be his aura. The way he carried himself. The unreadable expression that always decorated his features. How he was able to smile with his entire face, pulling large smiles on the lips of the people around him.

All of that and the simple fact of how well the boy could fuck. Of course, all of the guys knew how you make you feel good. All in their own ways, different and unique and still good. But Taehyung. Fuck, Kim Taehyung. A living Sex God, with a thick long cock that he knew how to use. Long fingers that could bring you to climax over and over again with very little time in between. And that mouth. God, that mouth. 

Porn stars would blush at the dirty things that came out of that boy's mouth.

Taehyung's eyebrow is lifting at the mindless way your fingers are dipping lower down his body, flinching just slightly when the tips of your fingers are grazing his quickly hardening cock. “That type of missed me, huh?” He's grinning, you can tell without having to see his face.

Head nodding slightly, you continue placing gentle kisses against his back – fingers drawing teasing lines over his cock through the fabric of his shorts. “Don't be a tease,” He hisses.

His wet, glove covered hand is wrapping around your wrist – forcing more of his cock underneath your palm. A soft moan falls from your lips at the feeling of it twitching with the new friction. Tae's hips rock slowly with the movement of your hand, half of his attention still on the dishes he washes.

And you pout. Want to turn his mind to mush like he's done to you many times before. Until the only thing he can think about is you and how you're making him feel. Fuck the dishes.

Even on your tiptoes, you're only able to reach the nape of his neck. But it's the first bit of bare skin you're able to press your lips against so you settle for it. Leaving open mouth kisses on it while your fingers slowly make their way underneath the waistband of his shorts.

Pleased to find he had decided to forego underwear, you're instantly met with the warmth of his shaft. A low cruse falling from his lips when your cool palm is wrapping around him. And you hold it there. Waiting to hear the scoff that falls from his lips as he starts to rock his hips again – his cock sliding through your grip easily.

The sound of his breathy groans fills the kitchen, egging you on. You can feel him growing harder in your hand and the slow drag of his hips is quickly driving you crazy until you're giving in to the tiny game you were playing and moving your hand.

“Oh, fuck.” Tae hisses, the dish he had been holding crashing into the sink as his fists reach to grip the edge of the sink. Voice gruff and it's usual deep, it has a wash of arousal flooding your body and fueling your movements. Free hand lifting to grasp his hipbone, holding him steady as you bring your hand up toward his tip.

A simple swipe of your thumb over his bulbous has a shiver running down his spine and a grin pulling on your lips. Strokes on his shaft speeding up as the sound of his breathy groans tickled your ears. Hips stuttering underneath your grasp in an attempt to take more than what you were willing to give him.

Always so greedy.

“Does it feel good?” Voice hushed where he can just barely hear.

Taehyung is quick to nod his head, though. “Your hand feels so good on me, Yn. Faster,” He whines, something that you're not quite used to hearing from him. Especially over a simple handjob.

He must've missed you a lot more than he was willing to admit.

And because your soul purpose is to give Taehyung any and everything he asks for, you're rubbing down on him quicker, squeezing him a bit harder. His cock twitches and jumps in your hold and you're fastened by the effect you have on him that your grip on his hip is loosening – allowing him to freely roll his hips upward.

A strong arm is reaching back while his body twists, large glove covered hand tangled in your hair to hold your head steady. For the first time, you're getting a good look at his face. Eyes blown and unfocused, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten. He looks so sexy staring at you as if it's taking all his restraint not to devour you.

The way he leans in, crashing his lips into yours for a sloppy hungry kiss only validates your thoughts. Grip tightening in your hair to hold your head still while his tongue tickles the roof of your mouth.

You try, desperately, to keep your focus on the movement of your hand. Letting him lick into your mouth and kissing him just as much as you can without completely losing your mind. Taehyung, like his six other teammates, worked really well with his mouth. In all ways.

He's nibbling on your lower lip, harsh breaths exiting his nostrils as your thumb runs over the underside of his cock. So close and you can tell from the now frantic roll of his hips. And you're more than ready to bring him there, loved watching him fall apart for you, because of you.

More than ready to have him explode in your palm so you can like it up when the sharp knock on the glass behind you is stilling your movements. Head turning to peak behind you, but Taehyung does stop his head tilting so he's able to suck wet hickeys into your warm skin.

Hoseok stands on the other side of the door, looking extremely impatient. You move to pull your hand from his pants, but Taehyung is quick to grasp your wrist. “Yn, I swear to God.” He speaks through gritted teeth and you're flashing a bright smile up at him.

“It's Hobi,” There's another knock on the glass, “He can't just stand out there,” Laughing, you manage to wiggle yourself out of Taehyung's grasp. He watches you with squinted eyes as you pull the door open for his Hyung.

Cued in on what had been keeping you, a teasing smirk plays on his lips. “What? You're just in here giving Taehyungie all the attention?” Both hands knit into your hair from underneath, slowly closing the space between you two.

“He's working hard in here,” You defend with a slight pout. Upon realizing he wasn't going to be getting off any time soon, Tae turns his attention back to the dishes. Scrubbing the gunk off with much for strength than needed, quiet grumbles leaving his lips.

“I worked hard too, cleaned up outside all by myself. What do I get?” Lips a mere inches from yours, all you'd have to do was lift up onto your tiptoes to feel their softness. “I saw Jiminie helping you.”

Hoseok is rolling his eyes at the slight detail. You're teasing him, he can tell from the way you're gripping his shirt in your fists. Like you're desperate to feel him but at the same time seeing how much you can hold back.

What you failed to realize was, he was much better at teasing than you. Without a second thought, he's leaning down to press his lips against yours. Kiss much different from Taehyung's. More controlled. More intense. Strong hands reach for your thighs, easily lifting your body off of the floor and setting you to sit on the countertop.

He's taking up space between your legs, large hands set on your thighs while he sucks your lower lip into his mouth. You can feel the smirk that plays on his lips from the sound of your moan. 

Hoseok responds by reaching back to give your ass a firm squeeze, pulling your body toward his. He's hard. You can feel it through the fabric of his neon shorts, but the moment you're angling your hips to feel more of him – he's pulling back. 

“Jimin should finish up, hm?” Recalling your earlier comment with a teasing glint in his eye. Planting a soft kiss to your lips, he backs away attention now on Namjoon who had entered with a bag of groceries. As if nothing had happened.

Body buzzing and senses fogged, you're left to wonder just how many times you'd be denied the release you craved.

The two men chatted amongst each other mindlessly, surveying the contents of the fully stalked fridge in front of them. Joon is pulling a bottle of coffee from the bunch, handing it over to you with a soft smile before twisting the cap on his own. You watch as he wraps his plump lips around the edge, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the liquid down.

Plopping down on the soft red cushion, you watch as Joon moves to offer Tae a sip of his drink. Which he's denying with a pout of his lips. From where you're sitting, you can see that his bulge has gone down a bit – but the foggy need for sexual release stays. You know the feeling. Had half the mind to get on your knees for him right then and there, not like either of them would complain.

They did share you, at times. And those were the times that you secretly hoped for each time you were being interrupted with one of them. But, all of them were so different from their interests and really liked the idea of being alone with you – it didn't happen as often as you'd like.

You could simply suggest it and no doubt they'd agree to the idea. Ready to do whatever you asked to fill your desire. But you liked the surprise of not knowing just when you'd be taking two cocks, or three, or maybe even four. All seven if the weather was right. The suspense had a great effect on you.

Jimin is entering the main house just as halfway through drinking your chilled coffee. Fully changed out of his hanbok, standing in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and a white SAINT LAURENT tee. Dark hair floppy messily at the top of his head, evident that he's been running his fingers through it.

He looked good enough to eat and if he kept looking at you with those bedroom eyes, you were about to do just that. Beeline made in your direction, settling in the spot beside you. An innocent hand lands on your thigh and your brain short circuits, registering it as anything but.

Without a word, he's reaching for your bottle, taking a long sip from it before licking the drip from his lips. “Where's Kookie?” You ask, forcing your thoughts not to wander too much. And realizing you had yet to see that bunny smile of his, hear the cute way he say's 'Noona' as he wobbles in your direction.

The same age as Namjoon which made you older than Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook – yet Jungkook was the only one out of the three that actually referred to you as Noona. No matter how many times you'd tell him to speak comfortably with you, he'd refuse with blushed and a shake of his head.

The others believed he got off on it, the subtle reminder that you were older than him but he was still able to turn you to make you fall apart with the simple flex of his thigh. “You haven't seen him?” Hoseok speaks with his head inches deep in the fridge and you shake your head despite the fact he cannot see you.

“He’ll come running the moment he hears you're here,” Deciding that your drink is his now, Jimin stands from his spot beside you heading further into the house. Steps cut off by Jungkook turning the corner, as if on cue.

“What!?” A large grin on his lips as his sparkling eyes land on you. Soft hair bouncing as he skips over to you, leaning over the counter so you're face to face. Tattooed hand reaching forward to enclose the back of your neck, gently pulling you forward until your foreheads are touching. “You didn't tell me you were here, Noona.” Eyebrow arched and head tilted to the side.

You can barely see his face with how close you are to it, but there's no doubt that he looks attractive as hell right now in his attempt to be intimidating. Lower lip poking out in a slight plea, “I'm sorry, baby. I was asking about you, though.”

Jungkook only half listens to your words. Some space put between you and he takes advantage of that by allowing his eyes to take in your appearance greedily. Aware of the warmer temperature, you had decided a simple v-neck crop top would suffice. From this angle, he could see straight down your top. And he was doing very little to hide the fact that he was looking, respectfully.

“I'm sure you can think of some ways to make it up to me. Right, Noona?” Hand slipping from the back of your neck, the tips of his fingers brushing over the collar of your shirt. Lips suddenly dry, your tongue is jutting out to wet them. Thighs squeeze together instinctively at the promise his words held.

A contrast to his demeanor, Jungkook is placing a sweet kiss on your lips. One that lingers for a second shorter than you want, but the small smile on his lips upon pulling away is enough to make your heart melt.

All at once, he's releasing you and moving on to follow Jimin out of the kitchen. Taehyung is finishing up he dishes at the same moment, shaking his hands of the water droplets before wiping the excess onto his shorts.

Alone in the room with him again and you feel the atmosphere shift as soon as his eyes settle on you. Finally able to get a good look at you and taking in just how short your shorts are and how thin the material of your top is. But Taehyung is a gentleman when he wants to be. 

His hand rests on your back, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bare skin your shirt leaves exposed. “Want to go for a walk?” Teeth biting into his plump lower lip. Instantly, you're sliding from your seat head nodding at his words.

Taehyung's arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body into his chest and you just faintly see the grin on his face before you're being enveloped in his sweet scent. Guided steps are taken into the game room where Namjoon sits, a laugh leaving his lips at the weird way the two of you are walking.

“What are you making?”

“A boat,” Joon says with a wide smile, lifting the plastic boat to show you. Cutie. Impatient, Taehyung is pushing his hips forward into yours. Even through the layers and with the small fact that he's not exactly hard at the moment – you can still feel his bulge against your ass cheek.

But he doesn't stop there, slowly dragging his hips up so you can feel his entire length. A strangled gasp is leaving your lips that has Taehyung smirking, Namjoon too focused on whether or not he just broke his model, doesn't notice.

Arms tightening around your waist, Taehyung takes a step forward – urging you to do the same.

When Tae said he wanted to take you on a walk, he wasn't speaking in sexual innuendos. You had actually gone for a walk around the land. Hand in hand making comfortable chatter as you soaked in the nice weather.

Somehow, you managed to convince yourself that he hadn't been itching to get you alone to fuck you – but really just wanted to spend some time alone with you. It's sweet when you think about it. The gentle way he's talking to you about the nervousness that surrounds working on his new mixtape. His soft thumb brushing over your knuckles as you assure him that everything will turn out alright.

It's not until you're reaching the picnic table just a few feet from the water, is he wrapping his arm around your hips. Lifting you from the ground as if you weighed nothing and setting you down on the table.

Blunt nails lightly dragging over the back of your knees as he gently spreads your legs so he's able to stand in the middle of them. He's easily hooking your legs around his waist, ankles instantly locking to pull him closer to you. “You know what I want to do right now?” 

“What?” You humor him, even though you could probably guess. Arms lifting to wrap around his neck, head tilting to the side as a slight smirk plays on your lips. His mouth hovers over your ear, wet brushing over the shell of it as he speaks.

“Wanna taste that sweet little cunt. Bet you're already soaked from all the attention you've been getting.” To prove his point, Tae's fingers trail up between your thighs. Your body shudders as he drags a single digit over your slit through the fabric.

He wasn't wrong, had started to feel the heat pool between your legs when Yoongi first kissed you. Mind driving you insane with being able to be with them for this entire week. All of them. It was safe to say it had gotten to you in a very obvious way.

Not one to tease, Taehyung is using his long fingers to push both your shorts and panties to the side so his fingers can press against your bare skin. A surprised gasp leaving your lips with the nudge on your clit, hips bowing toward him. He grins.

“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He's a little breathless, but his fingers never falter. A single digit slipping past your folds and pushing through your walls. “Shit.” He chuckles at the enthusiastic way you nod your hand, tongue rolling over his lips before biting down. “Yeah? Gonna cum all sloppy on my tongue, baby? Let me hear you.”

At the end of his words, his thumb is pressing into your clit, rolling it around lazily as his finger moves slowly inside of you. “Y-yes-” Words breaking on a loud whine, he slows his fingers – waiting. “Wanna cum on your tongue, Tae... p-please.” Hips lifting to rock into his hand but he's pulling back, leaving you feeling empty.

It doesn't last long because he's quick with lifting your leg. Fingers wet with your arousal and wrapped around your thigh, bringing it up to his shoulder. Tae lowers himself to his knees in front of you, at the same time pushing the useless material aside before diving in.

Taehyung watches you through his long eyelashes while dragging his tongue along your folds. Always loved the way you looked when he was between your legs. The way you tried to keep your eyes open to watch him, biting your lip in an attempt to keep quiet, fingers tangling in his hair – holding him close. Hot.

Tongue dragging up to flick against your clit, Taehyung reaches for your other ankle. Lifting your leg over his shoulder so he's completely enclosed by your legs. Plush lips wrap around your bundle of nerves, sucking gently while he's pushing two fingers past your walls. 

“Oh! Tae, fuck...” Panting at this point, grip in his hair used to pull him tighter against you. His free hand reaching around to sneak underneath the hem of your shorts, palming your ass while pulling you closer. Fingers angled to brush against the sweet spot inside of you, loving the way you squirm underneath him.

Just faintly, you can see the outline of his hard cock through his shorts. Straining against the fabric begging for some attention. Having you spread out for him, hearing those pretty moans fall from your lips is enough to drive anyone mad. And it doesn't help that Tae's been waiting for this for weeks.

Sharp teeth nip at your clit just as he's pushing another finger inside of you. “Taehyung!” You're crying out, in half pleasure – but also a warning. If he continued like this you'd be cumming before even getting to feel him inside of you.

“Close, baby?” His words are delivered into your throbbing cunt, sending vibrations through your body that has your back arching. Fingers tightening in his hair as you grind your hips desperately into him.

So close you can practically taste it, no longer able to worry about not being able to feel him. Just chasing your release. A breathy chant of 'keep going' falling from your lips as you hold his head in place.

Heat spreads throughout your body, a dull ache starting in your core and spreading throughout your body. Walls clenched so tight around his fingers that it's almost hard for him to pull back, so he doesn't, instead pushes deeper – pressing all three fingers against your sweet spot. In that exact moment, his lips are wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly and you feel the band snap.

Body tightening and legs shaking as incoherent curses fall from your lips. Taehyung watches your pretty eyes roll back, head tipping too. And once he's sure you're at the peak of your climax, he's pulling his fingers from inside of you and standing to his feet. Quick with fishing his cock from inside his shorts, you just barely notice the absence before you're being filled again.

A drawn-out whine falls from your lips at the new stretch, a thick groan from his from the tight squeeze. The wetness from your release makes it easy for him to move, though and he's thankful – too eager to wait longer than a few seconds to have you.

Your fingers struggle to find something to grasp as he ruts against you in an almost brutal pace. Each snap of his hips pushing your body further up on the table, only for him to drag you back down toward him. Loud cries and incoherent sentences fall from your lips that you're sure anyone in a 50-mile radius could put together what the two of you are doing.

Taehyung loves it, though. It's like fuel to his ever-growing ego. Chants of his name falling from your pretty lips, nails clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you beg for him. Just the knowledge he's able to make someone like you, like this. Yeah, he loves it.

“Fuck. This greedy little cunt,” He nearly grunts, eyes flashing up to take in your fucked out expression. His thumb is easily finding your clit through the wet mess between your legs, rubbing it slowly. “You wanna cum again? All over my cock this time?”

A frantic bob of your head and a whiny 'please' is prompting him to reach for your hips. Easily, he's lifting your body from the table, securing your legs around his waist. His hips rut against yours with much more fervor in this standing position. And you attempt to meet his thrusts but you're so delirious that all you can manage is a lazy bounce.

Arms wrapped around his neck and face buried in the crook of his neck, your walls squeeze around him as you feel the pressure build in your stomach again. Sloppy, wet kisses sucked into his skin. Teeth scraping against the tanned flesh before you're crying out your orgasm, body shaking in his arms.

You're positive if it weren't for the rough grip he has on your ass, you'd be sprawled out on the floor from the power of it. Taehyung fucks you through the entire thing, not slowing down until he feels his own release approaching, just second after yours. Thighs tightening and thrust becoming sloppy while he pulls your body down tighter against his.

The feeling of his thick ropes of cum coating your insides has your senses waking up, that paired with the slow drag of his cock inside of you has your legs stiffening again. Hips rocking slowly against his as another tiny orgasm washes over you. So small Taehyung wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't been paying attention – but of course, he was.

“Did you just cum again?” He says with a laugh, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. Lips sucked into your mouth to hide the sheepish grin that fought to take over your features. “It felt good... you cumming, inside.”

A triumphant grin takes over his features and he's leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Let's keep it in then,” He's mumbling against your mouth and you're not sure what he means until he's pulling out – fingers quick to meet your entrance, pushing his cum back inside of you.

Body twitching with overstimulation, but you let him stuff you with his cum, not able to deny how hot it was. Especially the look of concentration on his face, careful not to miss a drop. Once he's satisfied, he's secured your shorts back in place patting his hand over your crotch playfully.

“You better keep it in there, too. Gonna fuck it out of you later,” He promises with a large grin, head tilting up to nibble at your jaw. He's got one hand resting on the curve of your ass, the other gripping your thigh. Zero plans to put you down any time soon, loving the way you're wrapped around him.

He'd stay like this with you forever if he wasn't for the distance shout he's hearing from the main house. Trying to ignore it and praying that you don't hear it, but as it grows louder your ears are perking up.

“Taehyung-ah!” It's Namjoon's voice and you're immediately pulling back when you register it. “Think Joon is looking for us,” You say through a giggle, the kisses he's leaving on your skin starting to tickle.

“He'll give up.” Tae murmurs, trailing a wet line of kisses down the length of your neck. And you almost agree with him, but you hear Namjoon call again and figure it would be best to just go see what he wants. So, despite Taehyung's reluctance, you're unwrapping your legs from around him.

“Or we can go see what's up.” Taehyung's changing his tune once he's realizing you weren't going to change yours.

His arm is easily sliding around your waist, pulling your body into his as the two of you make your way back into the main house. It's a little weird walking with his cum stuffed inside of you. Like a subtle heaviness between your legs that you just barely go without noticing. And if you moved too fast you could feel a bit of it start to trickle out, forcing you to pay much more attention to your movements than usual.

When the two of you are reaching the sliding door, it's locked. Your other six men are sat in the room, snickers falling from their lips with one look at your frazzled state and the fact that you're locked out.

“Ooh, what were you guys doing out there?” You can hear Hoseok's teasing tone through the glass. As if it weren't obvious. As if they didn't hear what you guys were doing out there.

Taehyung doesn't miss a beat, hand dropping down to grasp your ass. “Stuffed her full of my cum.” He says with a wide grin that has hollers of amusement falling from their lips. “Tae!” You're gasping, face heating up as you lift your arm to punch at his shoulder.

“What it's true?” Sparkling eyes turned to you, lips shaped in a soft pout that you'd lean up and kiss if you weren't sure it'd have a glob of his cum rolling down your leg.

Namjoon, your perfect little angel, is the one to pull the door open. And you're thanking him as you walk past, carefully taking the vacant spot beside Jungkook. “Do you really have cum in you, Noona?” He wonders. Eyes dark while a curious hand reaches to brush over the waistband of your shorts.

“Only a little bit,” Fingers lifting to just barely pinch your fingers together to show him. “Prove it,” He says with a tad bit of playfulness in his tone, tugging at your shorts just slightly. 

You have half the mind to do just that. The thought lingering in your mind long enough for both Hoseok and Yoongi to notice. Intrigued, Hobi waits to see if you'll actually do it – but Yoongi speaks up before the tension can grow any thicker.

“We're choosing rooms,” Changing the subject completely acting as if an eight-way orgy wasn't just on the table. “Oh, right!” Joon, who had been subtly watching to see if you take Kook's dare is all of a sudden the reason he had gathered everyone.

A few moments are granted for conversation to bounce around the room, choosing where they'll sleep for the next seven days. And once they've settled their arrangements, attention is back on you – but for an entirely different reason now.

“Noona can share the floating house with me,” Jungkook is saying with a wide grin, keying you in on the fact that this conversation had been going on a bit longer than you had been paying attention.

With a quick nod of your head, you're assuring the young boy that you'll share the room with him. “I figured I'd just bounce around? If you guys don't care.” Much easier that way, whoever wanted you to spend the night in the room – you would. But to keep things tidy, you'd keep your stuff in the floating house with Jungkook.

“Of course we don't care-” Jin starts, but his words are being cut off by Taehyung's haste. “My room first!” Hand raised in a cute schoolboy raised, the look that he pins you with washes all remnants of the word cute out of your mind, though. 

With a thick roll of his eyes, Namjoon's standing. “If she wants to. You choose, baby.” His attention now on you and the pet name has shivers running down your spine. There was just something about the way Joon called you 'baby' that had you keening.

He doesn't act on it, though. Not right now. And neither do you. One by one, they each break off to do their own thing until dinner time. You find yourself following Jin out to the dock after hearing he was going to fish for a little bit. You had gone on quite a few fishing trips with him, never did it but liked to keep him company when he went.

It's hard to ignore how at ease you feel here, with them. Not a single worry in mind in this secluded spot with your favorite guys. Where they're able to be themselves and be with you and be happy. Thankful that you were able to join them. And so ready to be apart of the memories this next week holds.

No matter how sticky.

- seven days in the forest spent with your seven boyfriends while they film their upcoming reality tv show. there’s no telling what the eight of you will get into when the cameras are off.

masterlist ⤐

⇝ taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hehehehahahohohuhu @sw33tnight @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @soulstaes @bangtansonyeondayyyum @samros95 @korkanswers @houseofarmanto @marifujioka @tae165 @uxwi @jinhitwhore @preciouschimine @yeontanie21 @aa-ronpa @taefect94 @lee-karliah @codeinebelle @mochibabycakes @diminieshoe @fuddyize  @soloikeadates @0xmysticx0 @bbyjoonies @amoreguk @tricethecharm @diminieshoe @jayyayyy17 @softlyjins @bangtan-noona @fan-ati--c @fuck-expectations-people @paradisetaemin @nyamjinnie @lilacdreams-00 @vsugakookie0104 @koostime @la-evforia @betysotelo18 @chocobetterknot @simplysanha @delicategukkie @kookieswithtaeq @jeon-ggukkie @angjeon @bangtansbun @flamboyant-louie @elliemeetsevil @angiexyoung @stonyiscanon @strawberryforever25 @mipetronella @rageyoudamnednerd @hellotherehoneybee @joonies-babyy @mypurplelamp @jikooksgirl19 @sushi-date-ghost​ @bigimpression​ @kookiesjoonies​ @amour-quinn​ @diamonddia-mond​ @alterlovess​ @gemad08​ @daydreambrliever​ @acc3ssdenied​ @silentlyimpractical​ @bella-victoria002​ @ashleyjoyx​ @yoooonie​ @diamonddia-mond​ @btsbed​ @sungieshines​ @thia-aep​ @taeshuworld​ @hopiebabie​ @trynavibewhileicry​ @illwritetomorrow​ @kookoo-kachoo​ @prettxyliies​ @triviasjms​ @ratking101​ @elephantdoors​ @feel-like-gold​ @kelitt​ @itsponybeaches​ @alpaca1612​ @jeonkookiebangtan​ @rather-not-sayy​ @kimsouthjoon​ @beeeb05​ @dreamcatcherjiah​ @yoongiverse​

#bts #taehyung #kim taehyung #bts x reader #bts smut #ot7 x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung imagine #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts fic #taehyung x reader #namjoon #jin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #jungkook #bts imagine

[bulkhummus]

How do you design characters? I want to draw my own characters (or my own versions of existing ones) but I don't know how to come up with design ideas and they all end up with some variations of the same face :c

There are far more qualified people to give you advice, but the four rules I personally follow are these:

1. Embrace the 'ugly'. Make your characters look like people. This is explained very well in this post. I find perfection to be very boring in art and its becoming more and more common bc of social media algorithms and when everyone is sexy nobody is. Things we view as ‘flaws’ often make for unique character design and end up making beautiful and wonderful and sexy additions in making characters feel more authentic and realistic anyways. I always find people who look like people way more enticing than a stream lined perfection. (All v good reads!)

2. Have an idea of who your character is. The personality and story of your character should be enhanced by how they look. Constantly question why you're applying certain characteristics to your characters, and whether or not you’re coding those characteristics as positive or negative. If you’re subverting a trope, give those choices a reason.

Look at your favorite shows and see how this is applied— take Arcane for example. Jayce is supposed to symbolize strength. This is amplified by the fact that he an iron worker. Very classic design. He’s got a square jaw, broad shoulders, and is very symmetrical.

In FMAB, you’re supposed to remember the Edward Elric is a kid — despite having automail, a mean face and scary intelligence, a large part of his design is overall how small he is despite trying to be so grown up, and a big brother for Al. Arakawa pairs Ed with his huge suit of armor brother who amplifies this, while also giving Al the gentle giant trope.

If you subvert a trope, look at ATLA (excellent character designs) — Toph subverts normal characteristics of what ‘strength‘ is and is one of the most beloved characters. This works stylistically because part of her backstory discusses people underestimating her and telling her she needed protecting— she learns from blind badger moles how to earth bend— so her being a tiny blind girl who is the best earth bender who ever lived suddenly works very well. Shes barefoot because she sees with her feet. Choices and reasons.

3. Use Reference images!!! Reference!!! Reference!!!!!!!! Almost every figurative artist works from reference. Compile a big grand reference folder on your computer or phone and actually reference it. Snap a picture of people you see in a magazine, screenshot ads on some recipe website, watch videos of people talking or dancing and pause them, reference comes from everywhere! Train your brain to keep track of the stuff you find visually interesting whether its poses, clothes, settings, a face, palettes of an ad, or even other art! (its so easy now with phones!)

You aren't going to know how to draw something if you can’t picture it. I always go through my reference folder after I have an idea of what I want to draw — then I make the reference image work for me. Reference doesn’t mean you copy the image to a tee, you just use it as reference. I can push and pull features and angles once I have the base down, change positions of limbs, expressions, add or take away clothes, etc.

4. Hate to say it but you just have to keep drawing. Don’t be afraid to fail. Fuck up. Thats what sketchbooks are for. Its why I don’t often post sketchbook stuff because thats for me to fuck around in. You just have to get comfy with failing. Failing is SO important and don’t let social media think you’re the only one doing it. Take a breath, come back with fresh eyes, and try again. It’s your weirdest and most fucked up fails that create the most interesting work more often than not. And your designs might change and will grow and become more of what you want them to be! I love my old designs bc they helped me grow as an artist! I was learning then, and I’m learning now!

I went to school for painting not illustration whatever that means etc. etc. but this is my own personal artist manifesto. Embrace the ugly, give your choices reason, make research part of your art process and fall in love with failing!

I hope any of that helped, at least a little— and take what I offered with a grain of salt. ♥️

#this was long and im probably not qualified bc theres tons of better artists BUT my voice matters too i suppose #i think about character design every single day ALL the time #I love talking about it #Its so fascinating and i LOVE visual story telling #I use cecil and carlos bc i put them up here the most — but i could go into DEPTH abt my ocs and the choices ive made 😩 #im happy i went to school for painting bc i feel like i escaped a lot of the illustrator school yunk i see talked abt on twitter #i love my painting degree even if its kind of useless lmao #I do have knowledge banging around in my brain tho ngl #ask tag #anon #Long post #drawing reference

[jobean12-blog]

Tag! You’re It!

Pairing: Bucky x reader 

Word Count: 1,220

Summary: You convince Tony to let the team play Laser Tag and you get paired with Bucky on team Cap. 

Author’s Note: This is for the @redhead-wine-and-literature-club Love in Bloom Challenge and day 28: Cornflower which means good-luck charm. I didn’t use the actual flower this time but the meaning is here. Also, laser tag is so fun, I’d love to be on Bucky’s team! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: lots of flirting, fun and fluffs! :) 

NO SPOILERS HERE!!!

Thank you so much to @jamesbrns for this awesome gif :) Just imagine it’s a laser tag gun instead of a real one haha :D 

Love in Bloom Masterlist

“Why do you get to pick who’s on our team punk? Don’t Sam and I get a say in this? Bucky grumbles.

Steve sets his hands at his hips and purses his lips. “I didn’t say you couldn’t help Buck and if there is someone you want on our team so badly just say it! You’ve been a pain this whole time.”

Bucky now smiles, shooting Sam a sideways glance before blurting out your name.

“I KNEW IT!” Sam shouts triumphantly. “Alright Steve, they are definitely paired up. You’re stuck with me.”

Bucky doesn’t bother to hide his happiness at being your teammate, walking off with extra pep in his step as Sam and Steve’s laughter follow him.

The next day everyone is seated in the common room and you’re bouncing in your seat with excitement. Tony stands in the center and pulls up his holographic screen.

“Alright Avengers. We’ve got my team here on the right and Steve’s team on your left,” Tony states. “You have the rest of the morning to figure out your game plan and we’ll meet at the facility at 2. I rented the entire building so we can do what we want.” He throws everyone a grin before hailing his team and walking off.

“Ok gang,” Steve starts. “I think it’s best if we pair off, this way no one is left alone or unguarded.”

Everyone nods their heads in agreement. You’re seated across from Bucky and you catch him staring. You throw him a wide smile before giving your attention back to Steve.

Steve rattles off the pairs and when he says that you’re with Bucky you jump out of your seat and plop yourself next to him.

“I was hoping you’d be my partner,” you whisper.

Bucky can’t stop his surprised look but it quickly turns in to a smile when you continue.

“I know you’re the best shot so you’re going to be really good at this.”

He leans in close to your ear. “That’s not the only thing I’m good at doll face.”

You turn your head at his remark, your face now only inches from his.

“Is that so?” you ask with a smirk.

Before you can ask him to elaborate, Steve let’s out a dramatic sigh. “If you two are going to flirt the whole time then maybe you shouldn’t be partners. I don’t want anyone getting killed because they couldn’t keep their head in the game.”

Both you and Bucky scoff, dismissing him with a wave.

“Whatever punk. We got this,” Bucky assures him, sending you a wink.

“And it’s laser tag Steve. No one is getting killed,” you add with a roll of your eyes.

Steve’s hands are on his hips once again and he glares at you. “No one ‘dies’ on my watch and I want to win this thing.”

With that he storms off, yelling, “I’ll see you all at 2. Don’t be late!”

When you get to the building everyone starts putting on their gear. You’re struggling with the buckles on your vest when Bucky saunters over.

“Need some help doll?” he asks.

You look him up and down, enjoying how his dark jeans and black tee shirt fit tightly across his body.

“That would be great Bucky, thanks,” you reply.

He moves closer and his chest brushes yours as he reaches behind you to secure the vest. You inhale his scent and try to keep your hands at your sides, the need to touch him hard to resist.

When he pulls away and sees the heat in your gaze he licks his lips.

“Ready to play baby doll?” His tone is laced with promise and it takes you a moment to pull your head out of your lewd thoughts.

“So ready,” you purr.

The game gets underway and you and Bucky sneak off to find a hideout.

“If we hide ourselves well enough I can pick people off while you keep watch,” he explains as you walk through the field.

You trip and curse, following it with more curses for the noise you made. Bucky turns around and grabs your hand, holding it tightly as you creep along a darkened wall.

He silently motions for you to hide behind a large wooden box. You get into position and almost let out a loud gasp when he covers your body with his and presses against you.

“Just stay low and keep a look out,” he whispers, his breath fanning over your neck.

You hold back a shiver, needing to stay focused on the task at hand. As the minutes pass it becomes increasingly difficult to do so as Bucky continuously swivels and his body rubs along yours. He’s so close you can feel his muscles flex with every movement.

Bucky tags Tony and then Bruce and you give him a high five. A few minutes later you catch some movement out of the corner of your eye and discover Peter slowly inching closer. You elbow Bucky and he turns just as you tag Peter on his vest.

Bucky continues to tag people from your secret spot and you start to get distracted by his closeness. He unexpectedly bends down and presses you into the wall.

“Don’t move,” he warns.

You hear the scuffle of boots approaching and you stop breathing. Even under the low lighting you can see Bucky’s eyes drift to your lips. The sound of footsteps gets closer before they eventually start to recede and you realize whoever it was is gone.

“You must be my good luck charm,” he says sweetly before inching up and checking the area. “It’s safe,” he says, pulling you up by the hand.

In the next hour, the game really gets going and only you, Bucky, and Nat are left.

“We’re going to have to team if we want to tag her,” Bucky whispers. “Nat is an expert.”

You acknowledge the truth in his words with a silent nod. You both lay low, waiting in the stillness for any clue to her whereabouts. Bucky’s hand settles at your waist and he nudges you forward. You start to move as quietly as possible and the only sound you hear is Bucky’s steady breathing.

A flash of red moves across the field and you instinctively give chase, watching Nat skillfully evade your tags. Thankfully, Bucky goes in the opposite direction and heads her off, tagging her point blank when she rounds the corner.

You give a loud hoot and start jumping up and down. Bucky rushes over, laughing at the string of curses that leave Nat’s mouth. He picks you up and twirls you around.

“We won!!!” he shouts.

As you slide down his body you feel adrenaline rush through you and you plant your hands on his chest, grabbing his laser tag vest.

“I guess I really am your good luck charm,” you simper.

With one swift motion you haul his mouth down to yours and kiss him hard. He immediately drops his gun and circles his arms around you, sliding his hand to the back of your neck. You’re not sure how long your lip locked but when you finally come up for air you’ve gained an audience.

“Now I see why he wanted her on his team so badly,” Steve chimes with a smile.

@addikted-2-dopamine @book-dragon-13 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @la-cey @lookiamtrying @loricameback @lorilane33 @loveitorleaveit20 @lizette50 @ironmansuucks @mardema @meetmeatyourworst @moonlitskinandcrimsonribbons @marvelgirl7 @moonlacebeam @nano--raptor @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @starlightcrystalline @white-wolf1940​

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky #bucky fluff #rwlc love in bloom challenge #laser tag

[melwilson]

Stuck With Me | D.H.

pairing: derek hale x reader

rating: fluff

warnings: none

a/n: it’s been so long since i wrote anything teen wolf related. i miss it. also, lowkey unedited...i apologize :)

You were sure you were losing it as you climbed the steps to Derek’s apartment. He was the last person you would go to for comfort, yet here you were longing for his warmth and the sweet smell of sandalwood that radiated off of him. You and Derek weren’t enemies, but you certainly weren’t friends either. You were just two people who tolerated each other. You didn’t speak to each other when you didn’t have to, found out how the other was doing through mutual friends. That was the extent of your relationship...if you could even call it that. In fact, most people were quick to believe that you two didn’t like each other. However, you hadn’t gotten close enough to determine whether or not you truly disliked the middle Hale sibling. Derek was closed off and reserved. He had a hard time opening up and trusting people and you didn’t blame him. If someone had set your house on fire and killed your entire family, you would feel the same. Which makes you question why you decided that coming to Derek’s was a good idea. 

By the time you had reached the door, your palms were sweaty and there was nervousness settling in the pit of your stomach. Before you had the chance to turn around, the door was pulled opened and you were met with a pair of green eyes. Derek wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t confused to see you on the other side of the threshold. You were the last person he was expecting to show up at his apartment unannounced on a Thursday evening.

“Y/n, hey,” Derek said, eyes raking over your frame. You were still dressed in your work clothes, jeans and black tee, a jacket tied around your waist. His attention was then drawn to the large suitcase that stood next to you and your eyes that were brimmed red, tears threatening to spill over. “Are you alright?” 

“Look, I, um,” you paused sniffling, “I know this is really late notice and we don’t really know each other, but this is the only place I could think of. And I could have stayed with Jenn, but she moved in with her boyfriend and Maggie just moved back home. Believe me when I say that I don’t want to be a bother. This was my last option and I get it if you say no because you need your space, but I really a need a place to stay. Um, temporarily. As soon as I get enough saved to get my own pla-”

“Y/n,” Derek interrupted, a look of concern adorning his features, “Why don’t you come inside and tell me what happened, yeah?” 

You took in a shaky breath, wiping your nose with the back of your hand, before nodding. Derek grabbed your suitcase and allowed you to step inside. The loft had more furniture than what you could remember. A couch, desk, table, and a few chairs now littered what used to be an empty living space. It smelled vaguely of freshwater and Derek’s sandalwood scent. Derek watched you with careful eyes as you sat down on the couch, hands wringing together. You reeked of anxiety and disappointment. Even if Derek wasn’t in tune with everyone else’s emotions, he’d still be able to tell. If it wasn’t the slouch in your posture and the way you let your head hang, it was definitely how fidgety you were. You were always so composed, it was hard for Derek to see you in such a vulnerable state. You always carried yourself with your head held high, a smirk tugging at your lips, eyes harboring that carefree glint. 

“Can I get you something? Water, tea, coffee?” 

“Water is fine,” you replied, taking Derek up on his offer. You took the cold water bottle from his hand as he sat down next to you. “Thanks.” 

He nodded, throwing his arm over the back of the couch, turning his body so he was facing you. “That frown doesn’t suit you. What’s going on?” 

You sighed, pushing a stray hair behind your ear. “A few weeks ago, my landlord told me that I needed to get caught up on rent or I was going to get evicted. I thought I was going to have all the money by this week but the company I work for is behind on production. When I went in today, I was told that I was getting laid off. I get my last my paycheck next week. To make things worse, when I got home, there was an eviction notice on my door. The landlord sold my apartment to someone else,” you shook your head, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. You couldn’t believe how pathetic you sounded. “I had no where else to go. I figured if I could stay here a few weeks to get things figured out, it would give me enough time to find a new job and place to stay.” 

“You can stay here as long as you need to, Y/n.” There wasn’t a hint of pity in Derek’s voice which you were thankful for. 

“Really? Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.” Derek could sense the relief, your body visibly relaxing. 

“Positive.”

The first few days, you spent tiptoeing around each other. You felt as if you were invading Derek’s space, which you were, and it was bothering him more than he let on. But in reality, Derek liked the company. You guys didn’t interact much, but he still enjoyed another presence in his home. It had been awhile since he had lived with someone else. Although, the feeling was foreign, he welcomed it. Your vanilla and lavender scent was beginning to mix in with his own and he liked it more than he would care to admit. He liked the calmness you brought. After coming home from wherever he had been off to, the first thing he would do was find you. He’d tell you that he was back, all while breathing in your strong scent. He dreamed of the day when he could hold you in his arms and bury his face in your neck. And the day came sooner than expected.

“I got the job,” you muttered, “Oh my gosh, I got the job. Derek!”

You could hear his heavy footsteps trailing up the stairs before he appeared in the doorway of the guest room. “What’s wrong?”

“I got the job!” An excited laugh fell from your lips, your arms throwing themselves over Derek’s shoulders before you could stop yourself. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. You told him that you be starting the following day as a librarian’s assistant. It was a good temporary job, plus you a had a litany of books at your disposal. One of the few things that Derek knew about you was that you loved to read. You had such an appreciation for fine arts and literature. It was a rare, but admirable quality.

“Congratulations, Y/n.”

The next morning, you were gone before Derek woke up. However, on the kitchen counter there was a plate of breakfast and a note with your handwriting scribbled on it.

Hey, Der. Had to leave in a rush. Here’s breakfast. I’ll see you after my shift. I get off at 5. Do something fun while I’m gone. - Y/n

A small smile adorned Derek’s face as he put his food in the microwave. He read over the note again, his eyes lingering on the heart next to his name. His heart rate sped up a bit before he shook his head. Just because she wrote a heart next to your name doesn’t mean she likes you. This isn’t high school, Hale. Derek sighed, hopping onto the counter. Your infectious smile lingered at the back of his mind. Sometime in the two weeks you had been staying with him, you had gone from being just Y/n to Y/n. The girl who only wore gold jewelry and watched the sunset every night. The girl who’s laugh could somehow turn Derek’s bad day into a good day and whose proximity and intoxicating smell made his heart skip a beat. Derek had gone from barely knowing anything about you to wanting...longing to be around you. He desired to know every part of you, the good and the bad.

You were on cloud nine as you walked out of the library. Your first day had gone so well. The librarian you were assisting, Mrs. Smith, was so kind. Her eyes were warm, smile worn. She was a widow. Her husband died overseas, but according to her, he loved to read and would attend a book club every week while he was back in country. Though her story was heartbreaking, she carried no grief with her. She had a heart of gold and it was safe to say the two of you would be getting along just fine. You bounced down the stairs, mind running a mile a minute. You were so excited to get home and tell Derek about your day that you almost missed him leaning against the brick wall outside the library.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, walking over to him. He responded by pulling you into a tight hug, taking you by surprise. “Someone missed me.”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his voice muffled. Though you weren’t wrong. He did miss you. You had brought a new kind of life his loft that he never thought he would get to experience. It went from being just a loft...to a home. He hadn’t had a home since the fire. He had you to thank for the new found warmth.

“I’m serious though,” you said, pulling away. “Why are you here?”

Derek’s hands lingered on your waist not that you minded. “Well, it was your first day and I thought that I would come surprise you after. We can grab coffee or dinner or something to celebrate.”

A smile tugged at your lips as you watched the light blush cover Derek’s cheeks. “Sounds perfect.”

The two of you made the short walk over to Cassandra’s, hands brushing over each others. You muttered a ‘thank you’ as Derek held the door open for you. As soon as you stepped inside the small cafe, you were met with a wave of nostalgia. Your mom used to take you to the same cafe for muffins after school. You eyes traveled over to where the two of you would sit while she helped you with your homework. You missed the days when growing up seemed so far away, like age would never catch up to you. Days were simpler then.

“Well, well, look who it is?” a deep voice said in surprise. Derek’s eyes fell onto the man who’s arms were currently wrapped around your shoulders. He was a taller man with dark brown hair, tan skin, and a thick Latin American accent. You knew him as Manny. His mother, Cassandra, opened up the cafe when she moved to the states. She made a living for her family and Manny began running the cafe after she died. “How’ve you been, angel?”

You offered him smile walking up to the counter. “Good, actually. Sorry I haven’t stopped by in awhile.”

Manny shook his head. “You’re a busy woman, Y/n. What can I get you?”

“How about a vanilla latte for me, a black coffee for my friend here, and two muffins.” You pulled out your card, but Derek had already placed a twenty on the counter. You sighed glancing at the much larger man.

He simply shrugged and said, “You’ve had a long day. My treat.”

“I’ll bring out your order when it’s ready,” Manny said, winking at you.

You shook your head, a blush crawling up your neck. “You’re the best, Manny.”

“Anything for you, angel.”

“He’s nice,” Derek said as you found a place to sit. It was next to the window, the sun shinning on your faces. Derek understood why Manny called you ‘angel.’ You were glowing. Your face was free of a lot of makeup, just mascara, highlighter, and chapstick if he remembered correctly. But it wasn’t just that. You radiated positivity and happiness. Wherever you went people seemed to love you. You had this natural ability to put a smile on someone else’s face and make their day. Derek wondered why someone like you associated with someone like him. He was labeled as grumpy and closed off, though it was for good reason. He was the complete opposite of you. His presence usually pushed people away, yet yours was warm and inviting. Two polar opposite personalities, yet you complimented each other so well.

Manny watched from behind the counter as you two talked, smiles on both of your faces. There was a different kind of light in your eyes, a light he hadn’t seen since before your mother had died. This man, Derek, made you happy. Truly happy. He found himself chuckling as he watched you laugh. Your nose scrunched, the smile meeting your eyes. This was the Y/n he remembered and the one your mother longed for you to be.

--

“Derek? I’m home,” you said, your voice calling throughout the loft. You set down your bag on the kitchen counter and soon enough you heard Derek’s heavy footsteps.

“Hey,” he muttered, his arms wrapping around your shoulders. “How was work?”

You hummed, taking in the familiar sandalwood scent. “It was good.”

Derek pulled away his eyes furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?” You were usually quick to tell him about your day and the people you had met and the new book that you had picked up for him to read. Derek hated reading, but for you he would read every book that you placed in his hands.

“Nothing,” you shot back, hopping onto the counter.

“You’re lying,” Derek replied, his eyes narrowing on you. He could sense your nervousness, the slight skip of your heartbeat. He sighed, moving closer to you, hesitantly stepping in between your legs. “Talk to me, Y/n.”

You shied away at the proximity, fidgeting under Derek’s intense gaze. “I- I found another place.”

Your voice was so soft, Derek was sure he misheard you. “What?”

“I found another place. An apartment a couple miles from here. It’s affordable and I have enough saved to last me four months. By then my income should be steady.” There was a kind of disappointment laced in your voice. Like you didn’t want to move, but you had been invading Derek’s space for nearly two months now that the thought of leaving just didn’t seem right anymore.

“When are you going to tour?” Derek asked.

“Um, tomorrow,” you replied. “If I like it, I can sign the lease and move in as early as the end of this week.”

“I’ll come with-“

“I don’t wanna go,” you said abruptly.

“What?”

You swallowed hard, eyes wide at the confession that spilled from your lips. “When I asked for a place to stay a couple months ago, I wanted it to be temporary. I felt like a bother and honestly, it didn’t feel like home to me. But here I am two months later and I um, realized that yes, this place is home to me, but you are home too. I haven’t been in a place that felt like home to me since my mom died, but I think that’s because I couldn’t understand that home wasn’t a place where you go, it’s the people that you’re with. And truthfully, there’s no one I’d rather be with than you, Derek. But I get it, you know, if you think this is too much or if you would rather be alone. I just thought you should know.”

“Y/n.” You glanced up at Derek, eyebrows raised. “Cancel the tour.”

“Huh?”

Derek shook his head, his hands itching to find their place on your jean clad thighs. “I don’t want you to leave either...because truth is, the past two months with you have been the best two months of my life. I was so alone before you asked for a place to stay and now, there’s a new...I don’t know, warmth, I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it, but things are better when you’re around.”

Derek could hear the way your heartbeat began to speed up, the heat crawling up your neck. “Looks like you’re stuck with me then.”

His green eyes met yours and a small smile played on his lips. “I’m more than okay with that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

taglist: @hellishseaqueen @agentpretoria @emiijemii

#derek hale #derek hale x reader #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf aesthetic #tyler hoechlin #derek hale imagine #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf fandom #teen wolf fanfiction

[pascalpanic]

hi angel 🥺 i’ve had some time to think of what i want to request and i’ve finally come up with something ;-;

do you think you could write something comforting (doesn’t have to be long!) where maxwell is caring for a reader who is a little tipsy or drunk? the reader is the kind of drunk who’s giggly and playful. and he’s super sweet and gentle with her. maybe they already have a pre-established relationship? maybe some slimy guy is hitting on her and he gets all protective and takes her home? and i’d neverrrrr object to smut either. but i’m leaving it up to you to write whatever you think works the best. i just miss reading soft and protective maxwell yanno ;-;

Overdoing It (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: alcohol obviously, sexual innuendo, Maxwell lifts reader so I know some ppl aren’t comfy with that

A/N: RACH MY LOVE I’m sorry this took so long but I’m glad I finally did it bc I love how it turned out! ALSO HAPPY WW84 DAY (July fourth) SO WHAT WONDERFUL TIMING!

You certainly had not intended to imbibe to the level you had tonight. The problem was Maxwell, really, although in the best possible way.

The man has a high tolerance; you, admittedly, have one considerably lower than his. You love seeing Maxwell when he’s tipsy. It’s rare that you get to see it and remember it. The times that he’s tipsy are the times where you’re next to vomiting.

But tonight was a celebration, and Maxwell spared no expense. You’d finally received a position in a job you’d dreamed of, one that caused the two of you to spend hours poring over applications and perfecting cover letters. It was a success for the both of you, you said, but Maxwell insisted that it was all you.

You’d said that takeout was just fine with you, so long as Maxwell was there, but he insisted that a bigger celebration was in order. You didn’t really mind; you love getting dressed up to go out. Max made a reservation at a nice place in downtown D.C. and kept the specific place a surprise from you until now.

As you walked inside, the gorgeous atmosphere made you lose your breath for a moment. Your eyes nearly watered as you looked at Maxwell, and he simply kissed your forehead. “You deserve it, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The words aren’t exactly rare from Maxwell, but they mean the world to you. Having someone tell you that they love you is one thing, but having someone say they’re proud of you is a completely different one. “I love you,” you grinned and followed him to your table, lacing your fingers through his.

Dinner was wonderful, unsurprisingly. Maxwell had scanned the menu the last time he came here, with business cohorts, and been certain you would like it. The delight on your face as you scanned the menu confirmed it, and Maxwell mentally gave himself a little pat on the back.

You’d ordered appetizers and drinks, then more drinks with the main course (two to accompany the meal, to be exact), and then more with dessert. By then, you were starting to feel a little tipsy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Slowly, as you left the restaurant, the alcohol sunk in. The drinks were stronger than they’d seemed.

Luckily, Maxwell has a chauffeur. He’d had as many drinks as you, but the man’s tolerance is quite high. He seems barely affected, if not slightly looser and more carefree. The two of you made your way outside, Maxwell holding his arm around your waist to ensure that you didn't stumble; just in case, he reminded you, but you didn’t believe him.

In the car, you snuggle into Maxwell’s side happily, resting your head on his shoulder. “Buckle please, love,” he insists and wraps an arm around you.

“No,” you whine, kissing the soft cologned skin of his neck. “You’re too cozy.”

Maxwell laughs and nestles into you. “I’ll excuse it this once, only because I trust Jeeves,” he teases you. “How are you feeling, love?”

“So happy,” you smile up at him, dazed but content. The alcohol has brought you to a state of bliss now; love for Maxwell, a full stomach from the wonderful dinner, pride in your achievement.

Maxwell nods. “Of course you are,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Ooh, do we have wine at home?” You ask, sitting up and looking at him. “You need a few more.”

“No, no more drinks,” he chuckles and pulls you back into his side. “I think we’re both done for the night, don’t you?” His hands slide over your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin that’s cold to the touch.

You pout at him and Maxwell turns his face away, smiling. “No, I can’t look at that. I won’t be able to say no.”

“Please, baby?” You plead with big eyes.

“We have wine at home,” Maxwell tells you, even though he’s unsure whether or not it’s true. Either way, he won’t be allowing you to drink any of it.

Sighing, you snuggle into his side, shivering. “Car’s cold,” you murmur.

Maxwell removes his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, kissing your head and smiling down at you warmly. “How’s that?”

“Smells like your cologne,” you practically purr like a satisfied cat as you wrap yourself in the expensive fabric. “I love you so much, Maxie-poo.”

“I love you too, darling,” he chuckles. The chauffeur brings you to his house not long after, and Maxwell offers you a hand when you get out of the car.

Sitting in the seat, you frown up at him. “I’m fine, Max.” Standing in your high heels, your wobbly legs thanks to the alcohol send you falling into Maxwell, who catches you.

“Fine, yes,” he chuckles and lifts you back to standing. “Take off your shoes and let me help you inside.”

Sighing and crossing your arms, you step out of your shoes, calves screaming a thank you for removing them from those torture devices. He reaches down and picks them up, ass straining in his suit, and you can’t help but give it a smack, giggling.

“Oh, no, little miss,” Maxwell playfully chides and grabs your arm. “Let’s get you inside, tiger.”

Your legs lead your brain without any thought, drunkenly stumbling your way inside. Maxwell’s arms are your support, really the only thing to keep you from falling. He purposely steers you away from the path leading to the kitchen, knowing you’ll ask for more alcohol should you see it. When you reach the foot of the stairs, you groan and look at Maxwell with puppy eyes. You know his back has been bad lately, his joints ache when the humidity rises, but you can’t do this without him. “Can you carry me? Please?” You ask him.

Maxwell chuckles and kisses your head tenderly. “I suppose. Climb on my back.” He stands with his palms the wall, squatting for you to jump up on him.

The formal dress makes it difficult, but you hop up, both of you groaning as you latch onto him. “I love you so goddamn much,” you babble happily, kissing along the skin behind his ears.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he grunts as he makes his way up the stairs, his knees aching from the weight of carrying absolutely anything on his back.

When he reaches the top, you get down and sigh, kissing him sloppily. “You’re the best.”

“I’m wonderful,” he sighs and rolls his eyes, leading you to the bedroom and letting you plop down on his plush California king bed.

You strip off his suit jacket and toss it at him, and he catches it without even looking. “Don’t even think about seducing me tonight, darling. You’re too far gone,” he chuckles.

His words make you frown and stop in the middle of unzipping your dress slowly. “I wasn’t gonna,” you grumble and stand, slipping out of the dress and getting under the thick covers of the bed.

“Sure,” Maxwell smiles and retreats into his large closet. He returns in pajama pants and the white tee he wore under his button-up.

He looks so soft like this, and even drunk, you recognize what a privilege it is to see him like this. His large suits hide his frame, but you can see the soft curve of his tummy, his broad shoulders and narrow torso. “We should get married,” you blurt to him, your heart-eyes penetrating through to his center.

“You’re drunk,” he shakes his head as he wanders to the bathroom. He returns with his thick-rimmed glasses on, and it completes the look, his highlighted hair messy and beginning to curl.

He sits on his side of the bed and hands you a glass of water and some painkillers. “You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, and you’re not allowed to blame me.”

“I won’t,” you pout and take the pills, rolling onto your side to face him. His legs are beneath the covers, and one of yours snakes to his and wraps your ankle around his.

Max smiles softly at the gesture. He recognizes it. You need his touch, want to snuggle tonight rather than keep to your own in his spacious bed. He lies down and you quickly scoot over to him, resting your head and a palm on his chest.

“I love you, dear,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead, his hand stroking your back lovingly. “You sleep now. Please.”

“I want to cuddle a little longer,” you frown and look up at him, face barely peeking out from the covers.

Max laughs. “Of course. We’ll stay like this, but at least make an effort to fall asleep. Your headache in the morning will be better if you sleep more.”

“Fine,” you sigh and scoot your body as close to his as possible, kissing his chest through the plain white t-shirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeats and sets his glasses to the side, letting himself sink into the squishy bed. He’ll surely have to care for you in the morning too, but he doesn’t mind. It’s worth it.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @deltadebelleza @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal @wintermuteway @maievdenoir @dobbyjen @beskarboobs @sharkbait77 @day-off-inkyoto @darnitdraco @iamskyereads

#maxwell lord ww84 #maxwell lorenzano x reader #maxwell lorenzano #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord headcanons #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #ww1984 #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #wonder woman 84 #wonder woman 1984

[kaunis-sielu]

Schoolyard

You’d first met him in second grade. Your dad was a high ranking military man and so your family moved around quite a bit. He had been rowdy but he’d always been nice to you.

You’d become close friends with him and his little group of friends, going to the school for kids whose parents were government officials gave you all kind of a weird perspective of the world. One that was from a more political perspective since many of the kids in your school will end up being involved in the government somehow.

You’d been so close that you’d even had a mock wedding, his best friend knew all the wording for a Nordic wedding and all through middle school he’d joked about being your husband. Even after you’d left Asguard you’d occasionally get emails from him that always started “To my Wifey” but you don’t see him again.

It wasn’t even until you had moved to a new boarding school that you’d even realized who he was. Your new roommate Jane had seen a photo of your friends and had promptly freaked out. She couldn’t believe that you knew Prince Thor, the hottest actual prince in the world.

You’d stayed in touch over the years, through high school and graduation but once college hit you both kind of drifted. You got busy with getting your MD and he, well you suppose that he got busy with learning to run a country.

You know he hasn’t married yet, Jane keeps you updated on that. There have been a few women he’s been spotted with but none seem to actually be dating him or even in the running. Jane always teases you about Thor still being your husband, you still have the little mood ring that he’d given you.

You’ve got about an hour before Jane comes for your monthly pizza night. So you order pizzas and change out of your work clothes into a pair of sweats and an old college tee shirt. Girls night is about being comfy and watching Disney movies so you’re able to catch up without missing anything in the movies.

Jane has her own key so she just lets herself in when she arrives.

“Hey Dummy. When’s the food gonna be here?”

“That’s rich you calling me a dummy. I’m the only real doctor in the apartment.” You fire back and you hear Jane laugh loudly from the living room. “But in all honesty I think it’ll be here in the next ten minutes or so. Pick a movie.”

“Wine first!” She yells and you come out of your room with your hair up and glasses on. Jane is also in a pair of sweatpants but her shirt is one that you’d made her a couple years ago.

“How has your month been?”

“Good, busy. We may have found a new star!”

“What! Jane that’s amazing congratulations!”

“We just have to track it for a bit longer to see if it repeats what it did last year and some other boring shit.” You laugh as she passes you a glass of wine, “How about you?”

“One of my patients came back cancer free the other day!”

“Oh yay!” There’s a knock at the door and Jane sets down her glass before bounding toward it, cash in hand. “Pizza!” She cries just before flinging open the door. She stands in the doorway gawking and you laugh.

“Dude what are you doing? You look like a psycho.”

“Not pizza.” Jane manages to say and you start toward the door eyeing the baseball bat propped against the wall.

“No, not pizza. Had I known you were waiting I would’ve brought some with.” The male voice in the hallway says. It’s accented and familiar but that doesn’t really help you.

“Jane you’re freaking me out.” You tell her scooping up the bat on your way to the door. “Who is at the..door?” You blink up at the large blonde man in the doorway. “Thor?”

“That’s Crown Prince Thor.” A man grumbles from behind him. Thor waves the man off and you understand why Jane is acting so weird now.

“Hi, I’m sorry I should’ve called but I didn’t have your number so that would’ve been hard.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I needed to talk to you about some things.” He looks good, his hair is short and he’s got scruffy beard going on that isn’t quite a full beard but not a five o’clock shadow. He’s got a dark blue peacoat on but those bright blue eyes are the only thing that haven’t changed. “Can I take you out tomorrow night? To dinner somewhere?”

“Oh, um that would be fine. Seven?”

“Excellent, it’s a date. We will come pick you up.”

“We?”

“Oh, Volstagg and me.” He gestures to the man standing in the hallway behind him. “Odin insists now that I have a bodyguard.” He says with an eye roll, this is so reminiscent of your childhood that you can’t help but smile. “Sorry for interrupting your night.”

“It’s okay, it was nice to see you.” The pizza guy comes up and Thor pulls out his wallet and pays before you can stop him. “Thor you don’t have to.”

“I know.” He says with a wide smile before passing you the box. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Right here at 7.”

“Sounds good.”

“Could I get your number just in case anything changes?”

“Oh, yea sure.” He pulls his phone from his coat pocket and hands it to you. You punch in your number and hand it back, “Let me know who you are when you text okay?”

“Okay. Bye.” He and Volstagg leave then and after you shut the door Jane looks at you and whispers,

“What the fuck?” Then she yells, “What the actual fuck! You have a date with a fucking prince.”

“Oh my god Jane could you chill please?”

“No!” She cries, “forget pizza and a movie we need to find you a dress! I have more fancy dresses than you. We should go to my apartment! You always looked so pretty in that black swoop neck one that I have, or maybe a blue one so it can match his eyes. Have you ever seen eyes that blue.” As she rambles you head to the couch with the pizza then place it on the coffee table. You grab both wine glasses from the kitchen counter and bring them to the coffee table too.

“I am going to sit here, watch a movie, drink wine and eat pizza. You can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“But-but-you have a date with a Prince.”

“It’s not a date.”

“He literally said it was a date!” She protests.

“Turning the movie on now.” You tell her and she lets out a long groan. “Besides I have the black dress here.”

“Oh. Okay.” She sits down on the couch and reaches for a piece of pizza.

You’re actually able to get Jane to focus on something other than meeting with Thor tomorrow. You do wonder what he might need to talk to you about that was so urgent that he needed to come here unannounced, and after so much time.

When the movie is over you watch one more before Jane decides to head home. She hasn’t mentioned your ‘date’ since you’d started the second movie. But when she turns on you at the doorway you know she hasn’t forgotten.

“I want every. Single. Detail.”

“Okay okay, every detail.”

“No, no, every single detail.” She repeats emphasizing the single and you laugh.

“Copy that. I mean who knows I might have to sign a NDA.”

“Ooh, scandalous.” She teases with a raised eyebrow and you shake your head at her.

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Takes one to know one.” She calls as she heads down the hallway.

“Let me know when you’re home!” You call back and she gives you a little wave of acknowledgement.

Now that she’s gone though you’ve got plenty of time to think. What was it he needed to talk to you about? Why couldn’t it wait? Why didn’t you get his number too? You don’t even know how nice you need to dress because you don’t know where you’re going.

You get ready for bed, washing your face and brushing your teeth. You lay in bed for a while, you and Thor had always gotten along well. Now that you knew he was the Crown Prince of Asguard things might be a little, weird, but he’d seemed normal enough other than the bodyguard. Like he wasn’t putting on airs or being all posh, if you didn’t know he was the Crown Prince you’d have thought he was just some hot dude. Which, he is, those damn ocean blue eyes could convince you to do just about anything when you were kids.

Probably still could.

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