#only these two showed the pride tape

[deadghosy]

THIS DUO AS READERS X HAZBIN HOTEL GANG

prompt: two gen z twins fall into the grasp of hell and the hotel crew as they cause such an entertaining impression.

These two cause so much trouble in one go. Like literally you guys plopped into hell just causing chaos as the pink twin started to set hospitals and buildings on fire as the green twin was just scamming sinners😭.

The twins died looking like their favorite colors, green and pink as the smart one was green and the slight dumb one was wearing pink. The twins even have matching bracelets that have the other’s color. They also died as Gen z’s.

Oddly enough, the pink twin can go into the wrath and pride ring as the green twin and can stay in the pride ring and go into the envy ring.

You two can’t even BE LEFT ALONE HOLY SHIT- LITERALLY CHARLIE HAD YOU TAKE CHARGE IN THE HOTEL ONLY FOR THE BAR TO BE BURNT DOWN AND A HOLE IN THE WALL 😭😭

Alastor found the green twin amusing as they are very quick and smart. Hell they were the one to figure out that Alastor was in a leash when they first met him. So alastor made it his goal to try to trap the green! reader. He also found the pink one amusing, but they were just a nuisance at times 

Pink reader and Angel dust is such a funny duo as he seems to look after you since you aren’t good at taking care of your own self which is sad but at least someone cares for you.

“You’re not ascending to godhood. You’re just dehydrated….” “OUT OF MY WAY GAYBOY!” *few minutes later* the pink twin was breathing heavy on the floor. “Hopital..”

I feel like Lucifer would definitely try to adopt the twins as he find them adorable. Like Lucifer had most definitely made a pink and green duck with a magnet that makes the two ducks hold feathers.😭💗

Niffy love the twins equally as they like to hang around with the hotel maid as she shows them how to clean.

Sir Pentious find you two amazing as literally green! Reader overthinks a lot but pink! Reader doesn’t think and just acts head on. So he gets green! Reader to help with his building as pink! Reader just decorates.

The egg boiz love hanging out with the twins as they just walk around and cause havoc inside the hotel and to residents.

Headcannon on pink! Reader knowing how to use and gun and accidentally shooting themselves only to regenerate themselves as everyone panics except their own twin.

I imagine Cherri trying to bring the twins to a club and the green one is like “if you’re bring us, prepare for shit to go down.” And Cherri didn’t believe it until the club is ablaze as pink! Reader just smiled with their sharp teeth showing with their twin beside them having a tired face like. “I told you so.” Cherri’s face was so traumatized at how you did it.

Vaggie most definitely has some rules for you, even a bed time for pink as they are so adhd core 💀 so she need to drain their energy before they set anyone on fire.

It was a dark hellish night as the green twin walked into their shared room for the big dinner. “Hey just double checking, you cleared your calendar for dinner tomorrow night with the staff right? I’m dying to go to that new place like I can’t-” the green twin stops seeing their own twin spacing out. “Oh sorry, dinner, tomorrow, me.” “YAYYY” the pink reader starts to clap excitedly

Husk hates pink! Reader as they are so damn energetic and have no filter. Yeah husk has no filter as well, but pink! Reader has the worst filter ever to the point husk wants to duct tape their mouth.

STOP IMAGINE PINK! READER DRIVING LIKE SPONGEBOB AS GREEN! READER IS READING OFF A MAP SO CALMLY😭😭

“IM DRIVIN THIS HOOEEE” pink yells as green just calmly looks up and point to an exit turn as pink swerves the car as if this shit was Tokyo drift.

The combat the twins is so strange but destructive, like literally green’s combat is martial arts and poison as pink is street fighting but also just weapons like guns and bombs.

The Vee’s fucking hate the twins with a passion as those two are just bad luck for them.

lol I can see pink just bursting into the Vee’s tower on accident as green just waves at the three overlords.

Velvette finds the twins worthy of being models for her, but the thing is when she finally got the twins to meet her. They both accidentally ruined her studio as there was fire on the floor and curtains. HELL EVEN THE FIRE IS ON FIRE?! HOW TF-

Vox had found green amusing at how smart you are with calculations. He thought he could trick you with his hypnotizing power, but nah you poked that bitch’s eyes. He yelled falling to the floor just screaming at green being a bitch and a whole lot of degrading words. 

Valentino likes pink..for some reason . It’s because you are pink like Angel dust… but like then his admiration fell so quick when you glitter bombed his whole porn studio.

Pink! Reader was arguing with Vox as green! Reader has a needle ready to drain blood from the tv overlord. “Fuck you, YOU BITCH” “ya mama.” “YA MAMA, with cha bald headed ass.” “Ahh you mad.”

Yeah pink has a restraining order from the Vee’s as green just gets a warning 😭

Pink is a pyro maniac as green is a mad scientist type shit. 🦆

Yeah so the twins lore is that they were in a bad household with a mom who was a stay at home mom and an alcoholic dad that cheats. The parents were very verbal and physically abusive. So the twins only had their self.

I can imagine that green! reader had told pink! Reader a joke and was going to tell another resident only for the pink twin to fuck it up cause they found it so funny.

“Did you know, that 1981 was the year that-” “AAAAaaaAAAAaaAA-”

Tbh green is the reason why Alastor is sometimes scared to talk to them about his plans. Like green would stare at Alastor and Alastor would just sped walk away. 😭😭

The twins troupe is also “calm friend x chaotic friend” cause of course it fits them but really green is also a psycho in a making

Green was the type of kid to burn ants and dissect frogs and animals. As pink also burnt ants but thrown rocks at houses and cars. But they most definitely burnt old houses and thrown hot honey buns at people 😭

“I FEEEL LIKE A FEM QUEEN! I FEEL LIKE FEM QUEEN! I FEEL SO CUNTY!” Is how pink! Reader felt when Angel dust did their makeup as they watched RuPaul‘s drag race series.

Imagine the sibling fights just being so chaotic as they literally have to wear a “get along” shirt lmao 😭

The two siblings literally was playing rock paper scissors when all of a sudden a bomb was heard off in the distance making green immediately looks at pink who just nervously laughs and runs off.

There was a time when pink awakened their hell powers on a Thursday as green was so confused. “Pinkie, how are you doing that?” The green reader says pushing their glasses to their face seeing their twin floating. “I-I-I- I don’t know broccoli, I’m scared.” “Well come down.” “I can’t. I-I-I- I can’t. Get help.” The pink twin says to the green twin as they are floating to the ceiling.

Yeah Lucifer had to take them down as he put a spell on pink! Reader for it to never happen again.

Below the cut I show I imagine then personally💗

Their personalities:

Green! Reader- calm, secretly crazy inside, smart, protective, over thinking, sometimes snappy, just wants to be loved.

Pink! Reader- cunty😘, crazy, starve touched, hyperactive, not focused much, under thinking, destructive.

Their appearance:

Green! Reader- looks like a teen and an adult. Has straight hair with glasses. Possibly have a mole by their cheek or lip but definitely has freckles. They are skinny but curvy as they don’t gain weight much.

Pink! Reader- looks like a young adult and a teen at the same time. Has curly hair with glasses but eye sight isn’t as bad. Has a mole by their eye and has freckled skin. They are slight chubby but more on the thicc side with the right thickness in their body.

Their specific pronouns:

Green! Reader- any, but people usually call them a he/him & she/her

Pink! Reader- she/they and them/her.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #hazbin hotel x platonic!reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x you #hazbin vaggie #hazbin husk #hazbin vox #hazbin charlie #hazbin lucifer #hazbin angel dust #hazbin hotel x twins #hazbin hotel x twin readers #twin! readers #twin! readers x hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #adam #hazbin hotel lute #lute #hazbin lute #lute x reader #emily seraphim

[fxrmuladaydreams]

choices and livestreams (sv5) (dr3)

pornstar!seb x pornstar/camgirl!reader , pornstar!daniel x pornstar/camgirl!reader

summary: seb wants you back in his life, but have you already put him in the past?

notes: i know i said no more posts until after the holidays but i got this done early so here it is, also i felt bad leaving you with the carlos angst then saying peace out

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! masturbation (m & f), sex toys (dildos)

prev part next part

Sebastian sat at his computer and watched as Daniel played with you. He brought you over the edge again and again and again, and Sebastian couldn’t even get hard. He tried to tease himself, to slowly stroke his cock up and down, when that didn’t work he tried just wrapping his hand around himself and just jerking himself off, but still nothing.

The only parts where he would feel himself twitch with interest was when you had the vibrator taped to your leg. His cock would stiffen as he watched you come undone, then immediately soften when Daniel walked back into the shot.

He groans as he rests his head on his desk. He glances back up at the screen when you scream out during your last orgasm. He feels himself stiffen as the camera moves to show all of your release leaking out of you. He could get off if he just replays this four second clip over and over.

His jaw clenches when he hears Daniel’s voice.

“You were so good for me, my good little bunny.”

His words make Sebastian want to throw his computer against a wall.

He rolls his eyes as he sees all of the likes the video has, but feels a sense of pride wash over him at some of the comments.

where is sebastian?

daniel fucks her fine, but sebastian really knew how to wreck her

this will be fine to jerk off to until we get more videos with bunny and sebastian

Sebastian glances at his phone next to him. For what must be about the twentieth time today, he thinks about texting you. You’ve gone radio silent since leaving his house last week, and he’s started to really miss having you around.

He types out a quick text, just something saying hello, and that he enjoyed your video with Daniel. He stares at it for a moment, then huffs and deletes the message. He very much did not enjoy your video with Daniel. And what kind of masochist would he be if he told you he enjoyed watching someone else fuck you?

His phone buzzing pulls his thoughts away from you. There’s a notification from the girl he had recently filmed with. It’s got a link to their mew video, and a few flirty emoji’s.

He feels his stomach churn, remembering their filming day. It didn’t come as easy as filming with you did. She was trying way too hard to please him, and he seemed out of it almost the entire time, but with some skillful editing it made a half decent video.

He swipes the notification away, and opens your messages again.

Hey, I haven’t heard from you in a bit, how is everything?

He presses send before he can overthink it, deciding that even a sliver of attention from you is enough to make up for any consequences that could come from trying to get closer to you again.

You’re with Daniel when you see the text from Seb. He’s leaning back on his couch, with you sitting between his legs, your back resting against his chest. He’s got an arm thrown over your shoulder, while his other hand draws patterns along your arm. He put on a movie for the two of you to watch, something that you really hadn’t been paying much attention to.

Daniel doesn’t want to seem nosy, but the scowl on your face is worrying, especially because you’ve been staring at your phone for the past few minutes.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, shifting slightly.

You shake your head and sigh. “Nothing.” You toss your phone to the other end of the couch and bury yourself further into Daniel’s chest.

“C’mon sweetheart, I can tell something’s bothering you.” He says.

“It’s nothing. Seb just texted me.” You tell him quietly, your eyes locked onto his tv.

“And it was a bad text?” He strokes your cheek softly.

You turn so that you’re now laying on him, chest to chest.

“He said he hasn’t heard from me in a while and wants to know how everything is.”

Daniel hums. “And how is everything? If one were to want to know.” He feins disinterest in your answer, but holds his breath waiting for a response.

You slowly start to smile. “Everything is going well, I think.”

He lets out a breath and flashes you his own grin. “Good, I’m glad.”

You spend the evening with Daniel, cuddled up on his couch. You try to focus on him, but you just keep thinking about Seb. He’s made himself within reach again, but it could end up the same way it did last time. Is risking your blossoming relationship with Daniel really worth taking that chance?

A part of you feels guilty when he asks if you want to stay the night and you turn him down. You can see the disappointment flash across his face, but he quickly hides it.

You bid him goodnight with a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving him alone as you drive back to your own home. You throw your things down on your couch and pull your phone out of your pocket as you make your way to your room.

You type out a reply to Sebastian, then set your phone face down on your desk.

I’m good, how are you? I can’t really talk right now, I’m about to film a livestream.

It’s meant to be a harmless text, but a part of you knows that you want his attention.

You change into a pretty baby pink lacy lingerie set. You set up your camera and laptop and check to make sure you’re camera ready. You start your stream and watch as your usual viewers start to join. You make a few flirty comments, telling them how much you missed them.

Sebastian doesn’t seem to join, or maybe just hasn’t read your text, so you start with your stream without him. You tease yourself through your underwear, letting out breathy moans when your fingers brush against your clit.

You pull your panties to the side and push a finger inside of yourself. It does almost nothing for you, so you push a second in as well. It’s not at all comparable to Seb or Daniel, but your viewers seem to be enjoying it from the tips they send you.

After a few minutes you pull your hand away from your cunt and reach next to you for a dildo. You’re drawn to your purple one, the length reminding you of how deep Sebastian was able to push inside you. But you spot your blue one too, the girth would stretch you out and really give your viewers a show.

You hold the blue toy in front of your camera, showing it to your audience.

i can’t wait to watch her fall apart on that dick

there’s no way she’ll be able to take that

You set the dildo up on your floor and raise yourself above it. Your eye catches a comment before you lower yourself down.

be a good bunny schatz - sebv

You flush at the comment. A new wave of arousal rushes through you as you lower yourself onto the silicone toy. It’s a struggle to take it, the head stretching you out more than you have before. The pain quickly turns into pleasure as you ease yourself lower and lower on the toy, until it’s fully sheathed inside you.

You pause as you look back up at your camera. You look wrecked already, your eyes half lidded as your mouth hangs open.

“‘S so big.” You moan.

You read another comment from your computer that makes you clench around the toy.

such a good bunny, taking that dick all the way inside you. now bounce on it sweetheart - dannyric

You bounce up and down on the dildo, moaning out as it stabs at your soft spongey spot over and over again. Tears fall from your eyes, the pleasure is too much.

“Please, please, may I cum? I want to cum so bad!” You beg.

You don’t know who you’re asking, you mind far too cloudy to be thinking straight, but your eyes search for the two usernames that send you over the edge.

cum for me bunny - sebv

you’re so pretty when you beg, you can cum now bunny - dannyric

You cry out as you reach your peak, your body losing control, and all sense of pace as you ride the toy through your orgasm.

You clench around it as tips come flooding in. You slowly lift yourself off it, whimpering at the empty feeling between your legs. The dildo is coated in your milky white release. You lift it up and lick a long stripe up the side, moaning at the taste of yourself.

You flirt a little more with your viewers, then say goodbye and end your stream.

The clean up process is lonely, you try to keep your balance as you lean against your bathroom counter, wiping up the mess between your legs. You change out of your lingerie and throw it in your laundry pile. You reach for a sweater in your closet, but pause when you see what’s before you.

Folded on one of the shelves is Seb’s sweatshirt, the one he let you use the first time you filmed with him. The grey fabric is soft between your fingers, begging to wrap you up and keep you warm.

Hanging up on the rack is Daniel’s hoodie. He insisted that you hold onto it for a while after your night at the diner. It still smells like his cologne, well his cologne and a slight smell of the diner food you shared with him.

Your heart aches as you look back and forth between the pieces of clothing. You reach out and grab a sweater of your own, refusing to make any decisions tonight.

You grab your phone from your desk to see two text notifications.

From Seb

That was a fun livestream schatz, you really know how to put on a show

From Daniel

You could’ve done your livestream at my house sweetheart, I would’ve enjoyed a live show

You leave both boys on read, and climb into your bed. You hope that tomorrow you’ll have a clearer mindset about what to do next.

#sebastian vettel x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sv5 x reader #dr3 x reader #formula one x reader

[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee 04 | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk, dom!jk.

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: choking, humiliating (kinda idk), close proximity, cursing, miscommunication.

• WC: 2.1K aprox. (she's a little baby)

• taglist form

• index

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A single tear runs down your cheek.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You've never cried over a guy. Is that going to change now?

Possibly.

Jungkook has already left for work at about 9:00, leaving you to your thoughts. He said you're due to show up at his office at 12:00, considering him being free for the day. He claims he needs to use his rare vacant hours to talk you over the basic dos and don’ts of working for him.

You agreed, acting like you've met him two days ago over a work interview.

“Y/N, I went to a gentlemen’s club yesterday.”

You run his words on repeat in your mind, like a jammed tape that's just running through your head. His voice refuses to back down, growing louder at your conscience. He's basically screaming the sentence at you now, overwhelming you.

“A strip club.”

Shit.

Another tear escapes.

In all honesty, you have no idea how to feel. One minute you’re fuming at how he didn’t care enough to show up to dinner yesterday, and the other you’re miserable; because you don’t want to be mad at him.

Every time your feelings are brought to the matter, you spiral. You truly don’t know how to feel. You want to understand him, but you’d be tossing your pride in the trash for you to forgive him for what he did. It was a mistake, you know how badly he knows he’s fucked up, but you still haven’t heard an apology. All it takes is one fucking apology, just good enough to show he cares.

You blocked your feelings out and wore a cold mask, in disguise of your true emotions. You expected him to be mad at that reaction, because you basically gave him nothing to work with, but he reciprocated it. He’s playing your game. Now, you’re going to play his.

You look at your reflection, wiping away at the stray tears of utter confusion. You plaster a satisfied smile as you appreciate the effort you put into the outfit you’re wearing.

You’re wearing a mini-dress.

In basic work attire ethics, wearing a mini-dress to work is inappropriate. It’s the epitome of unprofessionalism, and you’re wearing it purely to provoke Jungkook. He said you’re going to start working for him, but the poor man doesn’t know how you operate.

He’s giving you the secretary job only to show you who holds the true power, thinking it’s him who does.

He’s so gullible to think you can simply agree to work for him.

Soon, when you’re married to Mr. Jeon and you’re officially declared as his wife, you’re also officially a partner of the company. The company of which HG and Jeon Agencies will merge to form. So, in actuality, you're soon due to be working with him.

If you wore a mini dress to work as Jungkook’s future wife, who will dare to speak a word about it?

An off-shoulder, tight black mini dress- at that.

•••

You strut through the company like it’s your own, endless gaping faces staring your way.

Your head is held high, your hips swaying with every step in such an authoritative manner. It’s impressive- to say the least- the amount of confidence you’re radiating through every stride.

As you enter the elevator, you catch a rather cute employee- the quirky type with glasses- staring at youwith her jaw to the floor. You make sure to send her a rather flirty wink just before the elevator doors close and you’re taken up to Mr. Jeon’s office. You catch a glimpse of her swooning over the action with rosy cheeks, a victorious smile pulling the corners of your lips up.

A couple of minutes later, you’re in front of the secretary’s desk, Yoona staring up at you in bewilderment.

You smile at her half-heartedly, getting straight to the point; “Is Mr. Jeon alone in his office? Does he have anyone scheduled to meet him anytime soon?” Your voice drips in professionalism, cutting straight to the point.

Yoona takes quite a bit of time before she stutters a semi-coherent answer. “U-uh n-no. He’s alone.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement as your don’t waste your time any more, heading for Jungkook’s office door.

You don’t knock. Why would you?

Holy heavens.

Jungkook is leaning back on his desk as if awaiting your arrival. He has a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand. The tie around his neck loosened as his suit’s blazer was forgotten on the couch.

He has 2 leather chairs on either side in front of his desk and a wide couch in the center, in addition to an aesthetic coffee table; seemingly creating a lounge in the middle of his office.

He has a couple buttons of his shirt undone, as the sleeves of it are rolled up on his forearms. His hair tousled like he’d run his hand through it a million times, which he does before he smirks. He tucks one of his hands in his trousers’ pocket, using the second to bring the glass up to his lips. He smirks through it at you, all the while maintaining eye contact between you two. His watch glints in the sun, grabbing your attention.

You've always had a thing for men and watches, and goddamn is it a weakness.

The sun rays shine through the tall floor to ceiling glass windows, illuminating his figure and complimenting its height and the lean muscle that hides beneath the sheer material of the shirt.

The sight knocks the breath right out of your lungs and skyrockets your heartbeat to over one hundred and ten per minute.

Whoa.

His eyes rack over your body, starting from your toes and making their way up to your head. He takes his time taking you in, a glint of lust- maybe even hunger- swirling in his chocolate eyes. He takes another sip of whiskey.

“Mr. Jeon.”

“Mrs. Jeon.”

The name escapes his lips in an amused manner.

What?

Last time you checked, you were still Ms. Y/L/N.

“Excuse you?” You raise a brow as you approach him. You place your purse on the couch, joining his blazer as you strut towards him, your head held high.

“You better get used to being addressed by that, Y/N.” He stays leaned back on the desk, speaking as if he has not a care in the world. “You are my future wife, after all.” He smirks.

God damn that smirk of his.

Oh how much you want to kiss it off his face.

You continue your stride toward him, betraying no emotion when your face stays neutral.

You stop right in front of him, only to take the glass from between his fingers and cradle it in yours. “I can still say no, you know.”

You shrug casually, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a tantalizingly slow sip. You make sure to drink from the side he had drunk from, licking your lips after you let the sensation of the alcohol burn your throat.

His expression stays unreadable, so you make sure he understands what you mean: “To the marriage. I still have an option.”

As you go to set the glass back on the desk where he’s leaned on, you almost stumble causing him to hold you by your hips. You straighten, your nose touching his in the process.

He leans in further, his lips brushing against yours as he looks into your eyes. It feels like he’s staring deeper into your soul, and the thought scares you.

What if he finds things better left untouched?

What if he reads in between the lines of your emotions?

“What makes you think I’d let you?” He whispers to you, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. His hands are still glued to your waist the same way they always are, driving you absolutely mad in every way possible.

“This isn’t very professional now, is it, Mr. Jeon?” You place your hands on his chest as you push him away, solely to put distance between the both of you. A rosy blush kisses your cheeks as his hands find their home on your waist again, only for him to pull you closer.

His tone turns cold, speaking as if he hates the thoughts of you running through his head.

“You think you’re slick, huh?” He chuckles, but it comes out rather evil than lighthearted. You almost flinch.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He stares deep into your eyes again, making your head swim. Your mind is too lost in his eyes to register the position you’re in. You don’t know what to do.

“Showing up to work in a mini-dress, Y/N?” His hand snakes up to rest on your jaw, but it’s a threat. It feels like a threat. You fail to move.

“That’s not very good now, is it?” He smiles, but it’s void of emotion. It’s scary. “Trying to provoke me?” His body is flush against yours now, with him no longer leaning against the desk, but handling your body in a way that makes it impossible for you to move; you don't even know if you want to. He’s taller than you- by far- his frame all too consuming the entirety of your thinking by towering over you.

His hand moves from your jaw to your neck, resting there. You struggle to appear unaffected, knowing very well how miserably you seem to be failing. The way he's looking at you almost seems like he's belittling you, making you doubt yourself every time you look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You breathe out a response, surprising yourself. Why does he have such a great effect on you?

“Playing dumb now, are we?” He coos, mocking you in the way he smiles. His dimple laughs at you.

The hand on your neck flexes, barely cutting off your air suply.

You stay rooted to your spot. Your mind is going in so many different directions that it makes it harder to stay focused. Not that you are- by any means- focused. Your breaths are turning more shallow by the minute, but you love it.

You trust Jungkook, and he knows you do.

You'd trust him with your life, no matter how mad you are at him.

He's sure of it.

“Hm?” His tone grows irritated at your lack of response, so you simply shake your head no- as much as his grip allows you to- at least.

“I already taught you how to use your words, Y/N.” You can’t breathe. Your heart beats in your throat and you just can’t- breathe.

But still, you push through. “Why would I want to provoke you?” You ask instead.

“Don’t you feel betrayed?” Jungkook looks at you now. Fully looks at you. No playfulness, no amusement whatsoever. His hand falls from your neck, coming to rest at your waist.

The question catches you off guard. Where did this suddenly come from?

“Aren’t you hurt?” His eyes turn to ones so deep in feeling, it sets you off. Is he talking about the prior night?

“About?” You mask the emotions struggling to stay veiled by trying to sound as calm as possible.

Don’t show weakness. Your mind screams at you, a desperate attempt to keep you collected.

Of course you feel betrayed. Of course, you feel hurt. How dare he ask when it’s him that’s causing you to feel this way in the first place. All you crave in this particular moment is to unleash. Unleash the anger you’ve been trying so hard to bottle in. Although you crave that from deep within your bones, you stay cool- calm.

All the haze from the earlier teasing dissipates into thin air, and you take the time to properly look at the man before you.

Jungkook looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. He has dark purplish eye bags under his currently heavy lidded eyes; the most beautiful ones you’ve ever been graced to see. Even in the exhaustion clearly evident in them, his eyes hold infinite depths of beauty. They captivate your whole being, leaving you intoxicated by their effect.

“I’m tired, Y/N.” He looks like he’s seconds away from collapsing. He’s angry again, his face fully expressing anger and frustration. But you have the right to be angry, too. Doesn't he think so?

You don’t give a shit if it means you’re being petty. You deserve an apology.

Your eyes squint in defiance at him, and you see his muscles tense further as a response to the action.

“You humiliated me.” You scoff, staring at him in disbelief. “You think you deserve the right to be fucking angry, Mr. Jeon?” You jab a finger to his chest.

The formality aims straight for his heart, while the coldness laced in your velvety voice stabs at it further. He stays silent, looks at the floor as his hands fall from your waist, only to hang helplessly on either side of his body. He clenches them into fists, only to unclench them right after. He repeats the action, in hopes of focusing on it instead of you. He doesn’t want to talk about it. About this. He’s thought about it too much, where it’s gotten him to a dead end. He doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t understand what he feels towards you; it’s a feeling that catches him off-guard.

A feeling he isn’t familiar with. A feeling nobody taught him how to deal with.

You jab a finger to his chest again, “Pick me up at 9, we’re going to the club you suggested the other day.”

Your tone comes out void of emotion- another stab to the heart. His eyes don’t betray the floor he appears to be so fascinated in.

You step away from him, turning away. Just like that, you’ve left the office, leaving Jungkook to drown in the confusion that’s slowly eating away at his mind- little by little, piece by piece.

Little did you know, Jungkook was angry at himself.

next

@hoseokteardrop @nays2112 @jksoftii @yu-justme @meadow-in-spring@bunnykoos @looneybleus @fushigurosdarling @alpha-mommy69 @nochuel @junecat18 @xjiminsthighsx @tanniesdoll @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @whoa-jo @ahgasegotarmy116 @jksusawife @frgetmenotz @baechugff @partyparty-yah @army130613210521 @drugerlime

#bumblebee #jungkook x you #bts jungkook #jeon jk #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook ff #jungkook #enemies to lovers #bts fanfiction

[cherryredstars]

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, Fluff

Summary: Ghost doesn’t have to work about a thing knowing you’re all his.

A/N: First time writing for someone who isn’t Miguel lmao!

Word Count: 802 (Barely Edited)

Cocky!Ghost who wasn’t as cocky when you started dating. He was unsure how someone like him, bloodstained and rough, could manage to find the affections of someone so sweet and pure. He was highly insecure, scared that any minor misstep could cause you to slip through his fingers. But after a few months of constant reassurance, Ghost grew more secure in your feelings for him. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves to show you off. He walks with you, chest puffed out, knowing how lucky he is to have a fine thing like you paying attention to him and him only. Any compliment made towards you, let it be about your personality, looks, or smarts, is a compliment made towards him too. It just makes him that much more prideful. 

Cocky!Ghost who likes to be one of the last people to walk into base after returning from a mission. Not because he doesn’t want to see you as soon as possible, but because he absolutely loves the looks his comrades and fellow soldiers have. He absolutely loves how their faces light up with hopeful eyes as you hug them and praise them on a “job well done” or a “I’m happy you made it back alright”. He lets them bask in the fantasy that you’re theirs and they’re the ones you’ve been worried sick about while they were away. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves how that hope and fantasy is instantly shattered when you run up to him, throwing your arms around his neck with more force and joy than when you hugged all the other soldiers. Loves how they shuffle out of the room when you gush over him, worrying about injuries he might have sustained while away. Loves how you cling onto him in front of the other soldiers who wished they were standing in Simon’s place. 

Cocky!Ghost who knows how some of the other recruits think about you. Knows about their crushes on you and their longing gazes that are always fixated on you. Knows because that’s exactly how he used to be, how he still is. And he definitely knows that the muffled noises coming from their rooms at night are because they’re thinking about you in the dirtiest of ways. 

Cocky!Ghost who lets them because the next night he has you under him, keeping them up with the pretty sounds you make. Makes sure they hear you crying out his name, not theirs. Loves the jealous bangs on the wall of those recruits telling the both of you to keep it down because they can’t stand the fact it’s him making you feel good and not them. Ghost who is more than happy to go to Price’s office in the morning to get lectured about all the noise complaints. 

Cocky!Ghost who stares them down in the shared room at base as they walk past. Watching as they look at you sitting besides him, marks littering your neck since you have nothing to cover them with. Loves how their jaws clench and jealousy swarms in their eyes. Loves how when their eyes move to Ghost, they instantly look away with defeat. Loves how they walk away grumbling insults under their breaths about their Lieutenant. Loves how easily it is to remind others how you’re his.

Cocky!Ghost who loves coming back to base after leave with gifts you had for him. Loves how Price doesn’t complain much at him smuggling them onto base. Loves how the recruits look at the newest mug you got for him for his regular cup of tea with longing. Loves the pictures he has sitting in dirty frames in his barrack, all of which have the two of you together with a wide smile on your face. Loves the slight thud against his duffel bag from the key-chain you got him. Loves the folded piece of paper he keeps in his uniform pocket with your handwriting on it, only held together with tape. Loves reading over the words when he’s bored or on the helicopter. Loves how he makes it obvious all these things are from you and having the squad or other recruits comment on how lucky he is. 

Cocky!Ghost who loves announcing during leave how he has to get home to you. Loves how easily the words: “Sorry, boys. Gotta get home to the lovie. Can’t keep ‘em waiting, can I lads?” falls from his lips when the squad asks if he’d like to join them at a local pub. Loves walking through that door after weeks or months of being away to see you sitting around waiting for him with a nice bath and hot meal. Loves, more than anything, when you kiss him and whisper into his ear, “Welcome home, Si. I’ve been waiting for you.”

This is my newest fixation guys, I’m so sorry!!

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost headcanons #ghost smut #ghost simon riley #cod headcanons #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley headcanons

[cosmicskittlez]

God dude could you imagine being Starlo

You're running a small town because you love cowboys, and it's going great because you're the sheriff. And it's not only because you love cowboys, you also wanna cheer up your childhood best friend who's still pretty upset after her husband and daughter passed. And you also did it to help bring people to your family's farm so they don't go out of business, even if you don't talk to them often anymore. The cowboys are still a big part of it though

Then, get this, a human child comes down who's an authentic genuine cowboy! You go nuts, immediately bringing them into town to show them off and then training them under your wing seeing deputy potential in them. Sure you've been dragging your friends through the mud a little but you're sure they understand! Then when you finally crown them deputy you almost forget their badge, so when you go off to get it made you're shocked to find your own friends trying to attack them. They tell you that you've been being a jerk, which was true, but you weren't accepting it at the time and started being even more of a jerk. Then you run away from your problems and the little human child finds you, and you fight them.

You tie them up and shoot at them, and yet they still surrender. Your hand shakes as you almost shoot them before Ceroba comes back to rightfully tell you off. You admit you were being a jerk and think that'll be all, but then she drops a bombshell of news on you. Her daughter is alive, which is great! And to find her she wants to bring along the child, who admittedly was quite tough for their age and would be able to help her out quite a bit. So you wish them luck and let them go and go back to your friends to apologise. Luckily they let you right back in with open arms, and you share the news with them about Kanako, and they're thrilled! You all think up of a plan to spruce up Cerobas old home to to throw a welcome back party.

As you're cleaning though, you find a room. Hidden under the dining room. In it there's tapes, tapes of her husband telling her a plan to save the entire underground, at the cost of two souls. A boss monster, and a human. And you learn your friend's child is a boss monster, like her father. And you remember who Ceroba took with her, a human. And you realize you need to do something before it's too late. You rush to write a letter to the poor child and storm out of town with Ed in case it doesn't get there in time. You find them both just before they're about to go to the lab, you question her but all she can do is run. You chase after her and tell Ed to bring the kid home to safety, your heart still in disbelief at your friend. You never could've expected this

You chase her all throughout the core and all throughout New Home, trailing her with every step as she tries to run. Finally you both end up at a cherry blossom tree and you beg her to help you understand why she has to do this. You know her, she's kind and caring and motherly, so how could she hurt not only her own child but another? But before you can get an answer, a certain bluebird you jailed in poor judgement shows up with Clover right behind them. The rest of what happened was only a blur, Martlet tries to leave with Clover but she's struck down by Ceroba, and when you try to stop her she strikes you down all the same, and your head hits against the stone as your vision goes black.

You come to only a bit later, Ceroba and Clover now worse for wear but no longer fighting. You find out Clover even won, and pride rushes to you before you look at Ceroba. She looks so tattered and broken. You go to hug your friend and promise that no matter what, you're here for her, and you're going to help her move on despite everything. But then it was time for Clover to go to Asgore. You and Martlet try to convince them they they can't go, that they shouldn't go, that Clover can stay with one of them while you wait for another human. But as the arguing between everyone grows and grows, Clover's soul comes out of their body, a yellow light filling the air.

All they say is that it's time. You try again to convince them down from this metaphorical ledge but they persist, they want to give up their soul themselves. They want to help monsters in whatever way they can. You get one last moment with them before everything. You try to say everything but only so few words escape. Then they reach up to you and hand you their gun, the same gun you bought them. You kneel down and accept it with a heavy heart, trying not to let your tears show. Eventually you and Martlet walk out. A minute passes, and Ceroba walks out with a canister, holding a glowing yellow soul.

You take a breath as you make the trek to the king's castle. This can't be right. This can't be just. How could someone so kind and so brave be so ready to give their life for monsters that killed their own kind? And why did it have to be this way? You and your friends give up the soul to the king, holding back tears as you let your friends soul go one last time, and possibly never to see again. Martlet goes her own way, and you and Ceroba make your way back to the Wild East. You wait to tell the posse, it's already pretty late and you figure they've had enough pain for one day.

You sit down at the empty bar with your head low. Dina can tell somethings not right, but she knows better to dig. She serves you up a shot without you having to ask. You chug it down fast in hopes it'll wash away the day you've had. But your thoughts drift. Clover was just a child, scared and pained and hopeful all the same. They didn't deserve this. You can't even think what could cause anyone to deserve this. As you look down again, you trace a finger around the rim of the tiny shot glass. Their hand couldn't have fit around it if they tried. Your head drops as a tear falls into the empty glass.

They were just a child.

#anyways ow #ow ow ow ow ow #he wasnt able to protect another child. thats gotta fuck him up after kanako #uty starlo #undertale yellow

[armins-used-qtip]

Armin finds your tapes

(This isn’t my best story but I didn’t want it to go to waste so I’m posting it :)

Armin had been staying with Eren for the past month due to renovations on his apartment. It wasn’t surprising he went to Eren since they’d been friends for as long as they could remember. You personally got along well with Armin and considered him to be your friend, rather than just your boyfriend’s friend. It also helped you were both film students.

Now that he was temporarily living in Erens house you saw a lot more of him. Often you two would hang out. Even when Eren wasn’t there, discussing your passions for filmmaking.

On this night you were in Erens room waiting for him to get back from his part time job. It was about 6:00pm and he got off at 10:00pm

Armin was in the living room, flicking through the large collection of dvds and tapes you had collected over the years. Unlike Eren, Armin also appreciated the older forms of entertainment and preferred DVDs over Netflix or Disney+.

Armins shuffling fingers stopped at a tape he didn’t recognise

“What’s this ‘Eren and me’ oh is this Y/N’s new project?” excitement filled him up as he pulled the tape out. He felt a feint sense of pride. That’s just the type of person he was, he cared so much about others goals and aspirations.

“She was probably going to show me this at some point, might aswell watch it now” he giggled to himself as he walked into his room with the tape in hand.

He sat down, turned his laptop on and slid the DVD in. He patiently waited as the video loaded. When it finally loaded he looked closely, turning the brightness up to really see the screen.

‘Ngh~ E-Eren fuck…’ the image of you getting fucked senseless came on Armins screen. His cheeks were blazing as he scrambled to shut the laptop. Suddenly he was so aware of his breathing- no it was more like panting.

Even after a few minutes had passed he couldn’t shake the lewd image from his mind. He wasn’t entirely sure how to react. It wasn’t like he hadn’t heard you two going at it through the thin walls before, but actually seeing it was so different. Especially since it was in such an intimate way. It wasn’t just cheaply recorded on a cellphone, no. It was filmed with a camcorder and put on a DVD. It was something to be cherished, and yet he had just invaded any privacy the tape held.

Armin had never regarded you in any other way than a friend. But he still couldn’t help the way his pants tightened and his face heated at the sight of you in such a vulnerable position.

As if something possessed him he opened the laptop again. The video had paused and it was a still image. Your mouth agape and eyes half rolled back. Eren had a fistful of your hair as he yanked your drooping head up, forcing you to look at the camera. Armins finger hovered over the space bar. He knew this would be pernicious to your friendship, the smart thing to do would be put the tape back and pretend he’d never seen it.

But sometimes ‘the smart thing’ doesn’t win. He pressed down and allowed the video to play.

Armin wasn’t particularly well versed, sexually speaking. He had only a few sexual experiences. Each time he had sex or engaged in anything of the sort he felt underwhelmed and disinterested.

This was not like those other times, his entire body felt like it was on fire. He forced his mouth shut as he intently watched. You were getting pounded at an ungodly pace. Tears were forming in your eyes. Suddenly Eren pulled out of you, the whine you emitted at the loss of contact made Armins pants grow even tighter. Eren walked out of the frame only to return with a lit candle. Is he trying to up the ambience??

An audible gasp left Armins mouth when Eren poured the hot wax onto your back. Your yelps of pain only seemed to up Erens ambition as he placed the candle down and began spreading the hot wax with his hands. The unholy sounds leaving your mouth left Armin gobsmacked. Surely you couldn’t be enjoying that? It looked so… painful.

He felt deeply ashamed at the way his dick practically jumped at the sight of you in pain. With lack of better judgment he unbuckled his belt and started pulling his pants down his thighs.

He shuddered at the contact between his sweaty palm and his dick. Then he positioned the laptop on his thighs so he could watch as he touched himself.

As Eren wiped the now solidifying wax of your back, your knees began to buckle from the intense and prolonged ecstasy you had been denied so many times. “Please… Eren” you panted in a desperate tone “I just want to cum” you pleaded to your boyfriend.

Erens face contorted into one of reassurance, a misleading smile plastered on his face. “Cmon sweetie, you can hold out for a bit longer” Eren said as he lifted your limp head to face the camera. “You have to put on a show for the camera, right? Fucking slut” he whispered in your ear, still holding that smile. You weakly nodded your head, making Eren smile even wider.

Armin blushed furiously as you looked straight into the camera. It was almost as if you were staring into his soul, like you knew what he was doing. This sent a wave of guilt through him, causing him to still his tugging hand.

Eren went back behind you and began pounding again at that ungodly pace. The lewd sounds of skin slapping and squelching drove Armin crazy and he started moving his hand up and down.

Armins hips were bucking, he desperately needed something more than his hand. He took his thumb and ran it over his throbbing tip. Pathetic whines left his mouth. It truly was a filthy sight to see. THE Armin Arlet jerking off to his best friend’s sex tape.

He kept his hand at the same rhythm of Eren pounding into you. His own Broken whimpers covered the sound of the tape.

The pressure was building too fast, he had to throw his head back to stop himself from cumming immediately. The deep pleasure in his gut started spreading through his whole body. At this point he was spasming like a mad man, biting on his free hand to stop himself from moaning. Although it was pretty ineffective as his whimpers filled the room. Armin wondered what you must think, hearing all the obscene noises he is making from the other room.

The thought of you catching him sent him over the edge. The scene was similar to a balloon exploding. His wild hips bucking as he shot ropes of hot cum from his cock. incomprehensible sentences were being spat from his mouth as he emptied himself all over his bed and chest.

After about a minute of cumming and shaking, he gradually calmed down. Minus his irregular and heavy breathing he was finished. His laptop was still open but the video had finished. He wasn’t sure when the tape had ended. Grabbing the box of tissues next to his bed, he wiped his lower abdomen. ‘I should put this back’ he thought as he looked at the DVD that was poking out of his laptop.

The end xx

I take requests or anything (as long as they’re AOT men 🙏🙏)

#aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan #eren jaeger #eren yeager #smut #armin aot #armin arlert #armin #eren aot #armin x y/n #armin x reader #eren x reader #attention wh0r3 #cybercore

[wisteriagoesvroom]

18 & 63 for the trope mashup please! <3

18. Circus AU and 63. Everybody knows, mistaken for a couple ^from the prompt mash ups game!

This is a Cirque du Soleil AU where Norris and Piastri are two trapeze artists who made huge names for themselves in their individual countries. They get paired up for new show, and it involves a really tricky sequence that people are convinced is not possible and has never been done before, let alone by two guys.

They have a couple of near misses on the attempts to nail the trick, and the whole gang is watching carefully from the safety nets. People are biting their nails, and george is totally double checking the insurance papers and trying not to freak out.

Anyway, Oscar hangs upside down on the bar, totally chill. on the platform, Lando shakes the last of his nerves from his fingers. he slides a firm grip down his own bar, the one place that’s been so familiar for so many years, and he takes a breath. It’s beyond conscious thought, it’s just muscle memory, stepping into the air. With faith that the other man will meet him, in that millisecond between complete connection and the plummet.

Hands. It’s all in the hands. Lando's own fingertips moulding to the floor the first time he nailed a handstand, someone else’s careful hands that taught him his first few balances and tucks. The way his hands bled bloody and blistered, until he worked up the requisite strength.

Now, Lando grips the bar steady with both hands. Now, the steady rhythm in the pit of his stomach. Once, three times, four — the pendulum hits the peak of the apex.

Lando jackknifes through the air, and he’s twisting, house lights blurring in his vision.

Oscar waits, hands outstretched.

Then, a firm clasp from a smaller hand. Callouses pressed against his own. Years of practice, leading up to this point of contact.

His body knows before his mind does. The snap of gravity into the right place, when moving object meets opposing force. It’s Oscar’s counter-rhythm that stops him falling, Oscar’s nimble strength that matches his own. The way they do this in silence, carefully cultivated trust. In that moment, their bodies are a marvel of physics.

Below, the cast erupts in whoops and cheers. Lando wants to run around, wants to scream, but in that moment there’s not really an option - he just clasps Oscar’s forearms, and lets himself be swung.

“Well.” Oscar says, wry. “That was easy.”

Lando looks up. “Yeah. Only took fifty four tries.”

Lando can tell Oscar’s trying not to laugh. Oscar's hands stay steady though.

Someone captures the footage and it takes a while to get going, but then they’re doing numbers on socials. Cirque marketing figures this could get momentum and gradually shares more behind the scenes footage of them both: heads bowed together to talk about the tricks, tightening their wrist wraps, dusting chalk off each other, and laughing as they sip their energy drinks. They even get a portmanteau: landoscar.

The final show is obviously a massive hit. Lando and Oscar’s segment ends up being a lyrical interpretation of the life of a papaya or something. It’s Seb Vettel’s show about the lifespan of plants and bees so they’re just rolling with the vision.

When Pride comes around, the two of them step out to get coffee and a snack at their regular spot. The barista waves at them and says: “a year's free coffee for the happy couple! thank you so much for repping queer excellence in the arts.”

And Oscar’s like, “oh, uh. I mean. I am. But we– we’re not…”

Then Lando turns to him. The morning light looks good on Oscar. Oscar who always lends him sports tape, always lets him order lunch first, and always, always leans forward to catch him. In or out of the ring, he is the partner Lando trusts more than anything in the world.

So Lando tugs on Oscar’s hoodie sleeve, and is like: “actually, I’d meant to ask you…”

#landoscar #oscar piastri #Lando Norris #op81 #ln4 #mctwinks #814 #twinklaren #814m #prompt game #yeeting this before i crash to sleep #thank you leaf for always sending such fun prompts for my silly bean brain #thank you for forgiving my bizzare capitalisation throughout btw cus i wrote this on a plane #wisteria HCs

[thecameronchronicles]

Toys-R-Us

TW: sex toys galore! Smut. Language. Dom!Rafe. Degrading language. 

SUMMARY: You convince Rafe to try out a few toys. 

WORD COUNT: 2400

REQUESTED

Reader getting a bunch of toys to try with rafe but he refuses because of his pride until he gives in and they have a lot of fun 😏

Toys-R-Us

He watched you from the corner of his eyes as you bounced off the balls of your feet to the new package. Midday and you were already imagining the scenarios that could come from the contents of this box. One you spent every day tracking for this moment alone. 

"If it's more shoes..." He groaned as you shook your head, your smile reaching well to your eyes. He knew this look. He was usually the reason behind this look. You were turned on from what was behind that packing tape and box branded with some company he'd never heard of. 

"Is it lingerie?" His voice shifted. That low timber and rare accent of southern inspiration sounding almost pained as his mind thought of your body from memory. Recent memory, but still too far to keep patient. He pressed to the counter, hiding his erection, as he attempted to peel into the box. 

"Even better."

"The only thing better than lingerie is you naked..." He called behind you as you sauntered in front of him and led the charge to the bedroom. 

"I don't like games..." He reminded you as you nodded, setting down the box and then him beside it. 

"I got something..." 

"I noticed..." He exhaled, rather annoyed by now. You smirked, basking in his impatience. A minor payback from Valentine's day as he'd tormented you beneath those damn handcuffs . 

"For both of us..." 

"Just show me already..." He reached for the box as you hit his hand away. 

"It's a gift. And you need to learn to be patient..." You attempted to move back to the box as he took your hand, forcing you in front of him. 

"Patience isn't exactly a strength of mine, baby..." You bit your bottom lip as you knew this. Every sundress you'd warn evidential to the rise he made of it as it bunched at your back as he relinquished himself over his father's desk, the kitchen counter, even the stairs of the Island Inn at the last Midsummers. 

"It'll be worth it..." You pressed your hands to his thighs. 

"Do you trust me?"

He paused, eyes dropping to your lips to find the way you bit your bottom lip. 

"Should I?" 

You answered by pulling the first box to view. A sleek but matte powder pink casing no bigger than a box for a tie. 

Your name came from his lips as you bit harder into your lip. A paddle meant for spanking sat at his fingertips. 

"Turn it over..." As he did, he found his name set in reverse to what would be imprinted when he struck. 

"Shit..."

"There's more..." His eyes illuminated with excitement as you pulled out box after box until the main one was empty and discarded at the floor beside the bed. 

"What's this do?" He asked before opening a square box and producing a purple rose, his finger hitting the power button as you blushed.  But that wonder and excitement that came from the paddle sharpened to upset. 

"You saying I'm not good enough?" His eyes narrowed. 

"I want to try these with you, Rafe..." But he was on his feet and towards the door before you could convince him. You had to practically leap across your shared bedroom's floor before he stopped. 

"Rafe..." 

"I want all of these toys out of my house! I don't even want to know what's in the other ones and I don't care...fucking insulting me-" He began to speak beneath his breath as you carried two hands to his cheeks. A soft kiss pulling to his jaw and up towards his ear, nibbling on his lobe as a sign of what was to come. Once his hands showed forgiveness, you spoke against him.

"Two minutes...give me two minutes to convince you or I'll throw everything away and let you bend me in any way you want..." 

"You better do that anyway..." He relinquished to your offer as you pulled him back to the bed. But instead of this rest, you took him to the chair across from the bed, far enough away to keep you just out of reach. 

"You work a lot, Rafe..." His eyes darkened. 

"If you think for a second of using anything without me, that paddle will be broken over your ass..." You grinned, your cheeks burning red. 

"I got it for us..." You spoke again. "It's no fun without you..." As you spoke, you pulled the rose rabbit to your side. 

"I want to convince you why you'll like this...But I want you to trust me..." 

"Two minutes." He looked at the clock beside you both as you nodded. 

You pulled the device into your panties, your mouth immediately slack as his eyes burned into you. The slow rise of your hand circulating when finding the perfect spot and your toes curling into the arms of his chair and he was already formed against his slacks. 

"Oh my God...." You whimpered, adding speed and pressure before feeling his hands at your ankles. 

"You wanted to show me, you show me all of you." He grunted, pulling off your panties and hovering over you. His hands teasing for only a second until your hands were lifted over your head so he could remove your shirt. The second you were naked, his lips wrapped around your breast. 

"Don't come..." 

"I won't." 

"You sure? You're already shaking..." He stood his hand over yours as yours immediately clutched into the bed beneath you. He now held all the power in less than the time you expected. 

"I'll be good." 

"Don't lie to me." He smirked before devouring your breast, his hand hard between your lower lips with the rabbit in small circles. The vibrations threatened your back to arch, which you pushed away, before feeling everything retract away. Your eyes sprung open. 

"Rafe..." He ignored your pleas before redirecting the vibrator to your nipples. Alternating between them as his dominant fingers pushed inside of you. 

"Fuck!" You gasped. 

"I'm still better than some fucking toy...but you wanna play with it instead..." He used the excess from the toy as a grail between nipples, licking the remnants as your eyes rolled to every sensation. 

"I shouldn't let you come at all for buying all of them. Wasting my money...but the way you sound right now...shit...I could almost forgive you…" 

"Ohhhh..." You offered as his fingers found that spot only he knew this well. Former lovers only tracing what he mastered. One trace to that spot and you were willing to pour for him. 

"Don't come..." 

"Rafe..." 

"You want to?" You nodded as he scoffed. 

"Ride into my hand...I wanna feel how desperate you-"

"YES!" You moaned to the way his palm felt against your clit. The rose rabbit attacking your nipples. And his fingers curving perfectly inside of you. 

"Fuuuuck!" 

"Don't. Come."

"I have to! I can't hold it...I can't...oh my God...RAFE!" You whimpered as he left you on that edge. Your body trembling from the abandonment and tease. 

"RAFE!"

"What other toys do you have?" He asked, pulling open the other boxes. 

"Oh...baby..." He withdrew a dildo. Thick and long. Colored red. His favorite.

"Didn't realize I was too big for you..." He teased as he was. 

"Oh, we're gonna have fun with this one baby..." He set it on high before holding you open with his other hand. 

"Hear that?" 

"Ahhh! Aaaahhhh!" You whimpered for the sound it made moving and and out of your sobbing core.

"You like being fucked by a toy baby? You wanna come all over it, huh?" You growled as he teased your edge, reading your body language as he pinched your nipples between moans.

"Oh it looks so good...but you know I look better between your legs...but I never get to see it like this..." You wrapped your hand painfully tight around his wrist. 

"Careful...acting a bit desperate."

"I am!"

"You wanted to be a little whore and order all this... we're trying every piece out until you learn your little lesson. I'm better than a motor and latex...and If you come because of any of these toys, you're just gonna be that much more tired by the time I'm done with this little pussy..." He spit on your clit, reaching down to suck for a moment as you pulled through his hair. 

The masterful tangle made around your sensitive bud making you unintelligible in anything but his name and the word please. He rose again. 

"I fucking love when you drip for me, baby..."

"I'm like a fucking waterfall!" You pleased as he withdrew, your excess following. 

"Did you fucking come?" You blushed. 

"I couldn't help it..." He cocked his jaw. 

"You wanna play? You don't wanna listen? Wanna be a bad girl." You knew better than to fight. If you wanted any hope of true satisfaction, you had to comply. So you did. 

He rolled you onto your stomach. 

"Knees. Against me." He unbuckled behind you, shuffling around the drawer beside the bed. 

"How desperate are you aside from just staining our sheets?".

"You can do anything..." He smirked, a hand around your neck as you felt the lube laced tip of the dildo teasing your ass. 

"Ah...."

"This desperate?"

"Yes! Do it...fucking do it-" He pushed it in slowly, the stretch making you nodded and shake. 

"Good girl...taking it all the way..." But as he pushed it completely, he removed it to the tip, fucking you with the dildo. 

"Yes! Oh YES!" You belted. 

"Good girl...food fucking girl..." He moaned behind you, slapping your ass every few thrusts. 

"Oh fuck...yeah yeah yeah..." 

"Raaaffffe....." You struggled to speak. His hand moving from your neck to the side of the bed. The vibrator back at your clit. 

"Fuck!" 

"Look at you taking it at once...dirty girl..."

"I wanna come...oh fuck, Rafe..."

"Fuck Rafe? Go ahead...put me in there baby...let me feel you clench for all these fucking toys but come on me..." You bent forward and took him, sliding him into you effortlessly. 

"Give me your lips..." You craned towards him, completely fucked in every possible sense. Your body pulling to one sensation to break from another, not a single moment of reprieve to this torture and you lived for the excess. 

"Not a single hole I don't own, isn't that right, baby?"

"Yours!" You winced. 

"This one?" He quickened the dildo as you nearly screeched. 

"YES! YEEES!" 

"And this one?" He thrusted faster as you could only nod. 

"I want you on your fucking knees right now...keep that little toy on your clit for me..." You watched him recline in the bed as you took your place. 

"Nuh uh...ass up here..." He directed you onto a 69. His breath against the split made from the dildo. 

"I fucking love watching this..."

"It feels so good-".

"If you can talk, you aren't doing your job..." You smirked as he thrust the dildo hard and fast at the vibrator set at your clit. 

"Please...I'm gonna come..." He forced the rose away. 

"On my face...come here..." He tore you apart from above. The dildo remained for pressure as your eyes crossed before closing over him. He devoured you this way, your moans around his cock making him hit your ass hard. 

"So fucking delicious..." He spread your ass wider, his tongue focusing on that second hole. 

"Oh, bad fucking girl..." He growled as you dripped on his chest. 

"Making such a pretty little mess..." 

"There's one more..." 

He grunted towards the final box set within reach. 

"You want all of this at once?"

"Make me fucking squirt, baby..." He grinned, bringing this final vibrator from the box. 

"One fucking second...I need more..." He pushed your head with one hand as another widened your hips for him. 

"I'm gonna come!" He smacked your ass. "I'm fucking coming!!!" But the second you felt his tone make that swipe, you were fucked. Your hand holding one vibrator to your clit, as he kept the dildo and new vibrator in place. Every hole fucked. 

"Look at you taking everything, motherf-" he paused. 

"This what you wanted baby? Every hole?" You nodded as he fucked your ass hard with the dildo. The pressure worsening the vibrator within. 

"Oh fuck...oh my God..." You groaned to the fixation of such pleasure. .

"Yep...all these fucking toys...".

"Yes!"

"And you still come on me..." He threw your hand away from your clit as he removed the vaginal vibrator and kept the final one in place before pulling you around him in a straddle. Your hand reached to remove it. 

"You like that feeling?" You nodded as he corrected the dildo. 

"You want two cocks inside of you?" You nodded faster. 

"Anyone else in mind?" You blushed. 

"You..."

"There's only one of me, sweetheart...but there isn't a chance anyone else gets this ass..." He slapped it. "So fuck me like you're mine so I know you understand..." You did, your hand reaching for the dildo again. 

"You keep that there!"

"It's too much...I'm gonna-"

"I want you to...all the fuck over me... I can feel it..."

"It's too much!!!”

"Should have thought about that before getting all these little toys...so you're gonna take it like a good little slut for me..."

"Jesus!"

"Oh baby...not even he is gonna help you..." He forced you onto your stomach, fucking you tried over. Cock then dildo. In then out. Your body pulsing. Your chest heaving. That edge finally allowed.

"Let me hear it...let me fucking hear you..., To this, he took the paddle, striking your cheek with his name left behind. 

"Oh fuck...." He grunted, your inflamed ass around his name making him lose himself within you as you grinned wildly. 

"Shit!" He called in finality in accordance with your final spill. Your body shook beneath him, unable to be moved without assistance. 

"Here..." He rolled you onto your back and into his arms. 

"Are you okay, baby?" 

"I...I just need a second." He laughed. 

"You were the one who bought all of them..."

"I didn't think you'd use them all at once!" You scolded. 

"You think we're done?" He scoffed. "I'm just giving you a second before you blacked out...but baby, we're just getting started...."

TAGLIST:

@rafesmoon @maybankslover @puzziepoppin @gillybear17 @onclouds999

@hopebaker @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4tangerine @slvtherinseeker @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @camilynn @sweetestdesire @jjmaybanksangel @phildunphyisadilf @belcalis9503

MASTERLIST

RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

2ND RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

3RD RAFE CAMERON MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #obx #obx fanfiction #obx smut #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #outerbanks smut #drew starkey

[imflyingfish]

Finally finished this massive piece with my OCs! this took so much time. Reblogs appreciated

Tag yourself with which middle schooler you were. I was definetly a Pillow lmao

OC info below cut!

Okay so these characters are p much my only OCs. they're a gang of kids (Aged 12-16) who are caught in a zombie apocalypse. Since most of their families have been lost, they decided to reject their old lives and replace their identities with their chosen objects that they use in battle. They call themselves the Knick Knacks. These characters don't have set genders, so pronouns will be thrown around wherever in description.

Backpack - The emo of the group. Backpack's bag acts as a shield, heavy weapon and storage making them the tank. Recently discovered Hatsune Miku. Can be prone to getting down in the dumps (Who wouldn't) but still cares a lot about her friends. Is best friends with Pillow, and the two balance eachother out well. Likes edgy humour and so gets on well with Metrestick

Pillow - The pastel weeb of the group. Watches a lot of anime and DEFINETLY wishes she was a catgirl. The majority of her efforts go to healing her friends using her pillow, which does low damage. She's very emotional and quite high-strung but overall wellmeaning, even if she can come off blunt or jarring. They definetly try their hardest to reduce conflict in the group and promotes unity (or the power of friendship), which can sometimes be too much. She definetly will no longer be a girl in a couple of years. Is the best friend of Backpack and the two balance eachother. Looks up greatly to Megaphone for her ability to support a group and her genius.

Jacket - the shy roadman. Jacket is a bit of a weird character. He wears a large puffer jacket in order to look larger and more imposing, wants to be seen as a roadman, but is overall too quiet and non-threatening for it to work. so they look homeless instead (they all do, its the apocalypse). He has a close connection with animals, and will stuff birds into his jacket to release as one large, powerful attack. They then have to gather the birds again. He was bullied before the apocalypse by classmates (somewhat including Metrestick) which is why he has tried to look more imposing in recent times. Gets on well with Watergun and especially Backpack as they can relate to her more quiet presence. Metrestick has made an effort to get on with Jacket now that there's no longer the pressure of peers around to impress, feeling remorse. The two still clash occasionally, but for the most part work together very well.

Watergun - the sporty "bully". Watergun deals ranged attacks. Metrestick replaced the container of the watergun with carbonated drinks bottles for more power, held together with tape. She can be harsh and hot-headed, but usually means well and can often act as a team motivator. Occasionally though, he can give in to pride and often takes control of the group even if the others disagree with them. He's strong and has a love for sports that he will passinately share with anyone, knowing a great amount of trivia (Sometimes to the annoyance of others) They like to hang out with Megaphone, Jacket, and Metrestick, but is a good friend to the rest of the group.

Metrestick - The hot-headed art kid - Metrestick was in DT (Design and technology) class when the apocalypse started, and grabbed the metrestick on the wall. His specialty is in close range fighting, giving out quick attacks. Despite being generally uninterested in school, she did have an affinity towards design and technology, finding it a good creative outlet for her emotions. Now she shares that outlet with fighting. In school he was also a bully, picking on random kids such as Jacket to impress classmates. Nowadays he instead destroys zombies in combat in order to impress and support his group. Enjoys crude humour, much tto Pillow's dismay. Despite his differences to Pillow, he still gets on well with her and they will often hang out. He enjoys showing his softer side by making gifts for his friends of fixing machinary, such as the wires on Megaphone's wheelchair. Although he generally tries to keep being sappy to a minimum in order to preerve his image. Is prone to fits of anger in which he can be a right dick (But who wouldnt in the apocalypse) Is likely to be an engineer in the future, and may also be a girl in a couple of years idk.

Megaphone - The preppy genius - Megaphone's disability means that she is unable to partake in combat due to difficulties in moving around cluttered battlefields and a general lack of strength. Instead, she has a megaphone that she uses to direct the group, playing support. Her compliments and strategies power up the Knick Knacks and her insults and taunts weaken the opponent. Megaphone is the group strategist, and is usually trusted to make the correct decisions in battle. She's also the oldest, which makes her the defacto leader anyway. She does often get frustrated and has to pass leadership onto someone else, and her disability does mean that she occasionally has to miss battle. She's confident in her intellect, (which can sometimes lead to conflict as she assumes that shes correct, especially with Watergun) but her age makes her more mature than the others meaning that she's trying to work on this. She has an interest in fashion and reality tv, and will often watch anime with Pillow when they manage to find a way to. She also loves chaos, and finds the thrill of battle to be one of her greatest passions. Her love of chaos also means that she loves watching petty drama. She gets on best with Metrestick and Pillow but makes constant efforts to be friends with all of the gang, knowing how pivotal it is in battle.

#imfish #art #original character #ocs #spotlight #illustration #drawing #digital painting #guys im going to need ur help on this one for any reach lmao #anyway yeah welcome to the Knick Knacks #these characters have been super fun to work on #also yeah i didnt say it in the descriptions but most of them are also neurodivergent but i wont say who and how #fun fact Backpack and Jacket are meant to be blue and purple! but i had to change it lol #but no lemme know what u all think yeah

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Task Force 141 Music Headcannons

Price

-He has some significant influences from 70s/80s heavy metal, mostly influenced from his mum who was a rebellious metalhead (and a feral KISS fan) herself, but toned down her partying when John was born. That didn't stop her from showing him the good stuff. 

-John’s earliest memories are of him and his mother going on roadtrips, radio blaring. His mom giving him little music “tests,” urging John to guess the artists of the song before they ended. Being so proud of him when he got them right.  His mom had a huge stereo system, an outrageously pricey thing compared to the rest of their meager home. It could play both CD’s and tapes and it was his mom’s pride and joy. 

-They had “cleaning” days where they would deep clean the house. Taking turns between swapping songs as they danced and dusted. A trend that extended well into his teenage years until he joined up.

-John would later pick up more thrash and progressive metal influences from his older CO’s and later by his own team. John is a radio kind of man, and other than the stuff he got from his mum he doesn't bother much with collecting, but he usually can find a radio station or two that plays what he likes. He still blares music when he cleans or works out.  

-John also dips into a bit of blues, folk and country.  He’s fond of the acoustic elements, it’s easy listening and some of them tell a good story.  

-Absolutely owned a “Frampton Comes Alive” CD. 

-Price was a bit petty about it at first, but the rest of the 141’s music tastes aren’t terrible…he still shoves the foam earplugs in on the truck ride home once Soap gets ahold of the aux cord. Though it gives him one hell of a laugh to see Soap cut a rug.  

-Gaz downloaded a huge playlist for the man and crammed it on his phone. Price was tickled pink over the selections, and now this is the only mix he fusses with, throwing it on shuffle and letting it play while he smokes and does his paperwork. 

-Man actually loves to dance, he doesn't just bop around like Soap does but he will take you by the hand and groove a bit with you. He loves to feel a warm body moving with his, letting the music move them together. This is actually how he woo’s ladies at the bar. A bit of liquid courage, and smooth song. He has someone giggling in his arms in no time. 

Soap

-His library is mostly made up of funk/groove metal, metalcore, pop, disco and electronic. He can party to really anything really, he just loves anything that is fast. Something that has a bounce to it.  There is never a wrong setting for this. Has nearly slipped and busted his head open having a one man mosh in the shower.  

-Used to have several piercings, his tongue and eyebrow namely, as well as a couple more pieces in his ears and nipples. They unfortunately had to go when he joined up. But he will still throw the earrings in when it's time to party. Some thicker captive bead earrings from where he had them stretched just the slightest. 

-He's actually pretty solid with a guitar. Doesn’t talk about it because it makes him feel like a douche. But he and his friends did have shitty garage band as teenagers. (Anyway..here's Wonderwall).

-Tries to keep it heavier when hangin with the boys but don't buy his tough guy bullshit, the next song is Madonna. His shuffle will give you whiplash. 

-He and Gaz vibe the most, both crowding into the front seats to put on a concert the whole ride. Having a jam session while they cook together or having heated arguments on whether something is a cover or not (Gaz is always right). 

Gaz

-The most eclectic out of all of them. Pretty similar to Soap, he tends to gravitate toward alt rock/indie, r&b, pop, and psychedelic. While he enjoys the upbeat electronic stuff that Soap enjoys, he prefers the groove. Something a bit slower and well…sexier.  

-He is actually pretty knowledgeable (special interest you could say) about music. The man is like an encyclopedia for music. Can name songs by the first 2 seconds alone. He is a menace on trivia nights for this reason. 

-Has started collecting records in his free time. He has favorites sure, but sometimes he'll just snag a few with interesting covers and give them a spin. He has found some gems this way…and also some straight *trash*. These songs have turned into memes between he and Soap.

-Makes playlists as a love language.

-Always trusted as the trip DJ, takes his job very seriously and considers all his teams tastes to carefully weave a mix everyone can vibe too. 

-Sung in the church choir as a kid, absolutely hated every minute of it. He was always the star of the christmas cantatas until he quit going as a teen.

-He and his sisters would have knock down drag out fights over the sole CD player they had as kids. Genuinely can't stand boy bands due to his big sisters obsession with them at the time. (The shit was on repeat for months.)

Ghost

-absolutely uses the balaclava to hide a earbud when he's just doing paperwork in his office.

-It's his ritual after an op. Simon pops his earbuds in, leans his head back and rests. You don't talk to Simon during this time. He'll take them out when he's ready to talk. 

-He also keeps one in while on leave, focusing on his music in the grocery or doing mundane errands. But just one earbud, he keeps the other out to listen for anything sus.

-Simon's music is pretty precious to him, and something he's actually pretty protective of. He never listened to his music out loud, even kept it turned down low with his headphones to prevent any accidental overhearing. 

-He picked up a lot from his brother that he used as a springboard after that. Lyrics that gave him goosebumps, words for feelings he could never articulate. To him, there was music for anything. Anger, sadness, elation. 

-Simon Riley who's favorite past time was rooting through old used CD's with his big brother at old video rental shops.

-Tommy who would usher him into the bathroom, putting big clunky headphones over his ears to block the sounds of their father's abuse. Clicking play and mouthing a “Stay here” as he clicked the door shut behind him. 

-Simon Riley who scrawled his favorite lyrics onto the soles of old dingey converse. Colored them into the skin of his forearms in a mock up of the tattoos he would later get.

-And he would, Gaz finds them later, inky poetry weaved into the images along his arms, and on his collar. He subtly looks up the words later. Smiling as lyrics of old grungey 90s songs fill his screen. 

-Tool enjoyer, literally just plays the albums start to finish, he is actually really fond of the instrumentals

BONUS!! Alex

-very similar to Price though he leans away from some of the heavier stuff. He loves the easy yacht rock type vibes with some classic rock. As well as some 90s and outlaw country. 

-He is an absolute crooner when he’s drunk. He actually has a gorgeous singing voice, low and rich, reminiscent of Tracy Lawrence.

-He does know the dance to Copperhead Road, tried to teach Farah who does not have rhythm to save her life. 

Actual Playlists

Price Soap Gaz Ghost Alex

I'll be adding to all these mixes as time passes, I would love to hear what you have in mind too <3

#was man in the box to on the nose for Ghost? maybe.... #i am a Ghost is an edgelord truther untill the day i DIE #also super biased bc this is most of the stuff i grew up with/listen too now :^) #simon ghost riley #john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #captain john price #call of duty #cod headcannons #alex keller #farah karim #call of duty headcanons #modern warfare #modern warfare ii #mwii

[kekaki-cupcakes]

Yay fellow aroace!

I love cute moments too! Yours are so adorable as well!

So uhm… maybe a little sis annabeth being protected / being taken care of by her older cool sis?

I loved the punk Jason concept as well so maybe something similar? Thank you so much if you do this!

And yeah! Byeee

🖤🩶🤍💚

Thanks so much for this ask even though it's been sitting in my inbox for centuries lol I have so many asks and little motivation but this one was so close to done, that's why the endings a little rushed &lt;3

Bite me, bitch boy--- Annabeth Chase/Protective older sister!reader

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth got to camp when she was seven. She became the cabin counselor at nine. 

-Who in their right mind let a literal baby be in charge of eight bossy, snarky, far too intelligent and prideful demigods? Who said, ‘you know what this cabin needs? A child to run it!’

-It was safe to say that when you got to camp at fifteen years old and soon after got shoved into a wooden cabin full of unorganized folders and sheets of paper and books, with three toothbrushes [eight kids???] and a mini fridge with literally nothing in it, you had something to say.

-Specifically to Chiron, who reassured you that you could of course speak with the cabin counselor about how the children of Athena were living, once she got back from her quest.

-Oh, so maybe there was a proper leader here, they were just away. That made sense, they’d be smart, and obviously knew what they were doing. That shut you up for a few days, and put up with the fact there were no lights out and your little brother hadn’t showered in two weeks. 

-Then a scrawny, angry at the world, little girl came back with swinging braids and far too sharp a knife for a twelve year old, carting behind her a traumatized school boy and a very hungry goat.  

-Your expectations took a dip.

-After your new little sister was tucked into bed and you finally figured out how to threaten your siblings into shutting their books and going to sleep [Spiders, spiders were the key.], you marched straight back to Chiron and demanded a union.

-You didn’t get one. 

-So instead you did some spring cleaning. While your siblings were out showing off their wits and picking strawberries, you stacked up every piece of paper in the cabin and threw out all the random things from three years ago, organizing everything away neatly into the bookshelves and filing cabinets no one had thought to use yet. A deep clean began, and you probably held up the laundry near the infirmary for a good four hours. 

-You found an old cork board in the stables that Butch [he was nice, even if he only talked about Pegasi and a comic called Heartstopper] let you take, and pinned up everyone schedules on it, instead of where they had been washi taped to the bathroom mirror. One of your brother's school reports appeared in the mini fridge as well, so that got pinned up too. 

-Said mini fridge was filled with water and strawberries that Malcom brought back, along with mud that got tracked through the fluffy rug you’d exchanged with Silena for the third volume of Butch’s comic. 

-Annabeth glared at you with those stormy eyes that everyone in the cabin shared. 

-Apparently, as the head counselor of the Athena cabin, she was supposed to be the one doing all the things you’d done, and she did not appreciate your disrespect for the rules or her position.

-Once she found the wafer biscuits in the minifridge you’d grabbed from the camp store after Katie got one of the old ipods you’d brought with you to camp after finding out about the wifi rule, she calmed down a little.

»»————-　★　————-««

-Annabeth was fuming.

-How dare you just… come into her cabin and take over?

-How come all her other siblings didn’t seem to mind that you had this one really cool tattoo on your thigh and seemed to be allowed to just wander into the camp store and take stuff, because apparently Katie owed you something and the Athena cabin got free wafers?

-And somehow Clarrise decided not to dunk your head in the toilet on your first day [Percy was unhappy about that as well, but seaweed belonged in water anyway. He didn’t like that comment either.] because something about Silena and hearts stopping? 

-Annabeth was supposed to be in charge, and now you were going to the camp counselor meeting instead and forcing Annabeth to lay in bed all day with a box of tissues because a temperature of forty degrees wasn’t normal. You even brought back a bag of those cheetos that the Stolls always dug up for meetings for her. 

-It sucked.

-So she decided to let some of her anger out in the form of beheading each and every dummy propped up in the arena. 

-Stuffing was scattered around on the sandy floor and Annabeth could feel beads of sweat on her dark skin. Her knife was flecked with the blood that beaded on her palm after clenching her knife too tightly for too long.

-A few Iris kids were casting rainbow mists that faded into droplets of poison on the other side of the arena, and she was careful to avoid them as she whipped around and got one of the dummies in the back of the neck, which would kill any normal person not sewn together by a bored teenager.

-Of course the sawdust billowing up wasn’t helping her stuffy nose or unfocused eyes because actually that dummy’s torso looked like a great pillow but then she was tearing out its insides because she wasn’t sick. 

-She refused to let you be all cool and right and big sister-y because Annabeth was in charge, she didn’t need a big sister to make her hot chocolate before bed when she had to finish a model for Hecate's new potion shop on Olympus and take spiders out of the bathroom because somehow you didn’t find then as absolutely terrifying as the rest of them did.

-The braid that hit her cheek felt like a spider leg in that moment and Annabeth fell back with a yelp, pulling all her hair behind her shoulders and breathing hard, her glinting knife near her feet.

-It was shiny and metallic and there were spider legs and then she was running, sprinting and puffing and following that arachnid-like robot from Hephaestus through the Labyrinth before they all lost it and got stuck walking in circles and circles and circles with spider legs crawling over her skin that were in her lungs-

-Shit. 

-Deep breaths, that was all she needed to do. Annabeth pushed a fist to her chest and rolled her shoulders back, trying to blink away the image of the metallic spider crawling over her shoe.

-There was a cackle of laughter and she righted herself. She wasn’t sick. She wasn’t scared. And she was not going to be laughed at. 

-She turned but her braids were still touching her and they were crawling over her and she couldn’t breathe because the spiders were on her but she wasn’t scared and she would not be laughed at and her knife fell out of her hand and-

-”If you don’t leave right now, I’m rostering you all on for clean up duty in the kitchens tonight, and I’m telling Butch it was you guys who let Olive and Clover out onto the lava wall!” 

-”He won’t believe you, and you can’t boss us around, newbie!” Someone yelled, and Annabeth pulled all of her hair back, a gray streak in the corner of her was tucked behind her ear. She felt like throwing up when the heat washed over her skin, prickly as a cactus. 

-”Bite me, bitch boy!” You snapped, and there was a clanging of metal and then a yelp.

-Silence filled the arena as Iris kids shuffled out, but Annabeth lost track of them a moment later because there was four of them and then eight and then twelve and then it hurt her head too much to count and suddenly there was two of you marching up,a shiny spear speckled with poison rainbow droplets. 

-You dropped the spear and Annabeth couldn’t see much else because everything was grainy and full of static and the heat on her dark skin was crawling with spiders and itchiness.

-Annabeth stepped forwards, the ground coming a lot closer to her face than she planned. 

-She gulped down a cry of pain and squinted up at you, then tried to tell you to fuck off, because she wasn’t sick. It only came out as a pathetic mumble, and she lay limp, glaring up at you foggily.

-You smiled, and Annabeth tried to take it patronizingly so she could continue hating you. But it wasn’t patronizing, even when you spoke softly, “Come on, let’s get you back in bed.”

-Annabeth huffed as she was carried out, “Mnuhsick.”

-“Percy and that funny goat boy are waiting.” Your smile was patronizing then. “They brought Hidden Figures and Legally Blonde.” 

-“Msick.”

-“That’s what I thought.” 

»»————-　★　————-««

#pjo fandom #pjo #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #Percy Jackson and the olympains #annabeth chase #Annabeth Chase x reader #Annabeth Chase pjo

[babybluebex]

long lost love: after | joseph quinn x fem!reader

summary: part two of two! eight years after you break up with joseph, you reunite with him, and you grapple with the decision of if you want to get back with him and become a household name like him, or if you want to lose him again. pairing: joseph quinn x fem!reader (rpf - don't like, don't read) tags: accusations of infidelity, lovesick joey, wes makes several appearances AGAIN, mentions of smut (but no actual smut lol sorry), brief mention of vomit author's note: thank you for your patience with this fic! i don't deserve y'all, and i love y'all so much!! thanks for reading this fic, and i hope you enjoy the end!

“Oh my god, babe,” your coworker started, leaning over to wipe down a table. She was young, a girl named Anna that was still in uni, and you liked her a lot, enough that you called her your work-sister. Yes, you were doing what you had to do; roles had washed up, and you needed to pay the bills somehow, so you were waiting tables at a little restaurant in the heart of London. It was a hellish job and you hated it, but you had no other choice.

After your short stint on the sitcom right out of LAMDA, you had auditioned and sent in tape after tape, but nothing really came to fruition. You weren’t as lucky as other people were, and you sometimes thought about going to uni proper so that you could get a meaningful degree and get a real job and give up on the whole acting thing, but you couldn’t possibly do that to yourself. Your pride was too strong and, after Joe, you were determined not to sabotage your own life again. You didn’t date, and you continued to send in tapes. “You’ll never guess who just walked in.” 

“Is it Kate and William?” you chuckled, wiping the bread crumbs from your own table. “No, wait— It’s Meg and Harry.”

“No,” Anna laughed. “Do you watch Stranger Things?” 

You shrugged. “I mean, I watched the first season,” you said. “I know the fourth one just came out.” 

“Yeah, well, Steve and Eddie from Stranger Things just walked in,” Anna said. She could barely contain her excitement, and you rolled your eyes as you laughed. “Will you take that table from me? I can’t serve them, I’m too nervous.” 

“Sure,” you said; it was a slow lunch hour, and a table meant money. Especially if these guys were on a Netflix show. “But you’re taking my next table that comes in.” 

“Deal,” Anna said. 

You smiled at her as you tightened your apron around your middle, and you approached the only filled table in the whole place. Two men occupied it, one facing you and the other facing away. The one facing you, you recognized— He was Steve, you remembered from when you watched the first season. With his head of good hair, it was impossible to mistake him, but you had no idea what his name was. The other guy— well, you couldn’t make him out too well, not from the back of his head. “Hi there, gents,” you welcomed them, smiling first at “Steve” and then turning your attention to the other man. “Welcome to—“ 

You dropped your pen, your breath sticking in your chest. Joseph. It was Joseph. He looked equally as shocked to see you, dark eyes big and wide, his cheeks pale, and tears started to well in your eyes. “Oh my God,” you whispered. You couldn’t breathe, your heart ramming inside your chest. It was actually him. He was here.

“I actually get that a lot,” “Steve” laughed. 

“Oh my… Wow,” Joseph said, a grin crossing his face. “H-How are you, how have you been?” 

“I’m fine,” you told Joseph, and he stood up to envelop you in a hug. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him back, hand on the nape of his neck, appreciating how eight years could change a person. He smelled different, felt different against your body, he even seemed to carry himself differently. His hair looked darker, he had a bit of stubble on his chin, he had small wrinkles next to his eyes— but he still had his beautiful brown eyes, the same ones that had drawn you in, back all those years ago. “I’ve been fine, how are you?” 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Joseph said with a breathy chuckle. “It’s been— What? Eight years? Time flies, huh?” 

“Definitely,” you agreed. You couldn’t believe it. Right in front of you was your biggest regret, smiling at you and staring you in the face, and you could only manage to be cordial. You wanted to be childish, to break down at his feet and beg for him to take you back, but all you managed to say was, “Sorry for not keeping in touch.” 

“Oh, it’s—” Joseph said, and he dismissively waved his hand around.”Right after Dickensian happened, I had to change my phone number, so it’s probably my fault.” 

“Crazed fan?” you asked and laughed, and Joseph pulled a face, his eyes wide and eyebrows raised as he gnawed on his lip. 

“You’d be surprised,” he said. “Here, actually, I’ve had to change my number again since Stranger Things aired, let me give you my new number.”

“You’re blowing through phone numbers,” you chuckled. “That many crazed fans?”

“Well, this time I changed it because my old number was linked to my Hinge account,” Joseph said with an embarrassed flush in his cheeks, and your heart skipped. Had he been using dating apps? Jesus, even the thought made you ill. You hadn’t dated anybody since him, and you wondered how prolific he had been in the wake of his success, but then you stopped that line of thought. It was your fault he was single in the first place. “And I didn’t want people to find that account so… I changed it.” 

“Smart,” you nodded. “Yeah, I don’t have my phone on me right now— against the rules— so just, umm—”

“Give me your number,” Joseph said quickly. “I’ll text you instead.” He gave you a crooked smile, the same crooked smile that he had given you that first day, when he still had his braces on, and it made your heart melt. You were a little glad that the onus was on Joseph to contact you instead of the other way around; you never would have texted him, too afraid of messing everything up again. “I’m not in London for very much longer, but maybe we could grab a drink before I head to Santa Monica.”

“Yeah, for sure,” you said. Joseph handed you his phone, open to a new contact card, and you quickly typed in your name and number, then hesitated before adding a small heart after your name. That would tell him what he needed to know without actually saying it, you hoped. “I’d like that a lot. Oh, how’s Wes?”

“Wes is doing good,” Joseph told you, pocketing his phone swiftly. “He and Liam got married a few years ago, in 2018.”

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Oh, good for them! I remember Wes telling me all about how he thought Liam was ‘the one’ when they first started dating.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joseph laughed. “They’re still obsessed with each other, it makes me sick.” 

“They always were a little into PDA,” you smiled, reminiscing on movie nights with the pair. “But they were cute.” 

“You know…” Joseph started. “I was going to grab drinks with Wes tonight, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you joined. He was just talking about you the other day, wondering what was going on and everything.” 

“Yeah,” you said quickly. “I’d actually love that, I’ve been wondering how he is too. I haven’t been able to find him on social media. Or you either, for that matter.” 

“Yeah, I had Twitter for a bit, but I gave up on it,” Joseph admitted. “I just… I don’t know, I think I’m too old for that sorta stuff. I don’t know how it works or anything; I have an Instagram but my mate runs it for me, and only because Netflix basically forced me to get it. I don’t even know the password to it.” He laughed, and so did you, and you caught “Steve” out of the corner of your eye, suddenly remembering that he was there too. “Oh, fuck, sorry, where are my manners? Y/N, this is Joe Keery, he plays Steve. Joe, this is Y/N, she’s my… Well, it’s a long story, but we went to LAMDA together.” 

Wow. What a way to simplify your relationship. Although, you suppose it was easier than explaining “We used to date and then she broke up with me because she thought I cheated, which I didn’t, but she knows that now”. Long story, indeed. “We were pretty much best mates,” you added. “But after we graduated, we just… Drifted apart.” 

“What a shame too,” Joseph mumbled, then, before you could react, added, “I’ll text you about tonight, yeah? Time and place and all.” 

“Alright,” you said. “I’m looking forward to it.” 

You ended up introducing Anna to Joe and Joseph, telling her that they were good people and would tip her well, and you excused yourself to the server alley. Your hands were shaking as you sat down on a cardboard box and buried your head in your hands, and you tried to control your breathing. Joseph. No longer was he the awkward, blond, braces-and-glasses thing that he had been— he had matured nicely, luckily seemingly keeping his sense of humor that you adored, and you sniffled as you extracted your phone. You saw a text from an unknown number that just said “Joey” with a heart, and you frowned it away as you went to Instagram and typed in his name. Sure enough, his account was the first one to pop up, only one post so far, of a heavily made-up Joseph. He wore a long wig, giving the camera his best Blue Steel look, looking more serious and deadly than you had ever seen him before. Apparently, according to Anna, this was Eddie. 

Before you could do any more research into Eddie or Joseph, a new text came through from the same unknown number, Joey’s number. Wes and I are meeting at Soho House at 8 o’clock, he texted. I’ll be there a few minutes early, to make sure that you can get in.

You had heard of the exclusive Soho House before, although you had never been in it, and your heart skipped. Joseph had definitely moved up in the world. Cool, you answered back. I can’t wait. 

Wes says he’s excited to see you, Joseph told you. It’s been a while, huh?

Yeah, for sure, you answered. And you stopped, debating what to say next. Should you apologize?  Would he even know what you were apologizing for? Maybe you should wait to apologize and explain yourself in person. But Wes would be there, you wouldn’t be able to say exactly what you wanted. You wished that you could be alone with Joseph and talk, but you would take drinks. You would take anything that he decided to give you. 

You went home after your shift and instantly started to fret as you got dressed. Would it be awkward? Would you even enjoy the drinks with your old lover and friend? Or was tonight bound to be a disaster? You decided to try to look at it with as much positivity as you could— if he was inviting you out for drinks, he couldn’t hate you that much, right? Maybe he had forgiven you. Maybe he was still in love with you. 

No. Put that thought away. He was not in love with you. He had been dating since you, and probably had had girlfriends since you. He probably had a girlfriend now. He was the ultimate full package, kind and thoughtful and smart and funny and handsome and interesting, he was everything, girls should swoon over him. He should be absolutely rolling in women; there was no way that he still had feelings for you. 

When you arrived at Soho House, you saw him sitting outside instantly. He was looking as handsome as ever, smoking a cigarette and sipping on a drink in a short tumbler, and he took your breath away in a brown suit. God, had he grown even more handsome in your years apart? It didn’t feel real. “Joe!” you grinned as you approached him, and he smiled back at you, putting his cigarette out in an ashtray. 

“Hello!” he crooned, opening his arms for you. In an instant, almost as if you were drawn magnetically, you fell into his arms, hugging him tightly and pressing your head into his neck to smell his warm and earthy cologne. Joseph rubbed your back as he hugged you, just the same way he always used to, and, when you pulled away from the hug, Joseph gave you a warm, blushed smile. “Well, darling, you look stunning.” 

“Thank you,” you laughed breathlessly. “Says you! You— Fuck, you grew up! You look so good!” 

“Aw, well,” Joseph shrugged bashfully, tugging at the thin silver chain around his neck. “I mean, a lot can change in eight years.” 

“True,” you said. “But… A lot can stay the same… I’m sorry.” 

“What for?” Joseph asked, his eyebrows furrowing. 

“I…” you started. “For… You know what for. Don’t make me say it. It was humiliating enough the first time around.” 

“Let’s not have this talk here,” Joseph said softly. “Just come home with me later, we can talk there.” 

“Okay,” you agreed softly. “Can I just ask one thing?” Joseph nodded, and you carefully took his hands in yours, pressing your palms against his. You were scared to even ask, knowing that he would reject you, but you kept your resolve. “I know I hurt you. I know you probably want nothing to do with me, but… Please, if there’s any part of you that doesn’t hate me, just tell me. You are the best thing I’ve ever had in my life and I ruined it, and—”

Before you could say more, Joseph leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. It was quick, you could hardly call it a kiss, but your heart pounded in your chest like it did with your first kiss with Joe, all those years ago. You sighed and laced your fingers with Joe’s as he broke the kiss, and you started, “Does that mean—”

“Yes,” Joe whispered. “I never stopped loving you, sweetheart. You hurt me, but I never let you go.”

“Okay,” you said softly. “Good. Umm… Let’s go. Is Wes inside?” 

“Yeah,” Joe said. “He won’t stop talking about you.” With a hand on your back, he led you inside the exclusive club. You felt lightheaded even walking beside him again, and you couldn’t help the grin that covered your face when you saw Wes. He looked exactly the same, and you hugged him tightly. Wes’s arms were just as tight around you as he laughed, and he said, “Well, well, if it isn’t Miss Y/N. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Sorry.”

Joe helped you sit down on one of the tall stools, his hand still on your back, and he kissed your hair as he mumbled something about going to the restroom, and he slipped away as Wes showed you his hand and the gleaming silver band. “Liam and I got hitched,” Wes smiled as you squealed in excitement. 

“Oh, Wes, I’m so happy for you!” you told him. 

Wes hesitated for a second, looking over his shoulder at Joe retreating as he showed restraint that you didn’t remember him having, and he finally said, “Joe will never tell you, but you really did a number on him.”

“I know I did,” you cringed. 

“No, like,” Wes started. “He was going to ask you to marry him. He had the ring in his sock drawer and everything. When you broke up with him, I came home to find him on the floor, sobbing. He cried so hard he threw up. He was inconsolable for weeks. Didn’t do anything other than go to work and lay in bed. He was depressed, love. I thought he’d be like that forever.”

A ring. Marriage. The thought that you had ruined that made you sick. You rubbed the hem of your shirt between your fingers as you nodded at your lap, and you mumbled, “What got him out of that?” 

“Honestly?” Wes asked. “I don’t think he ever got out of it. I think working helps him, but he didn’t figure that out for a while. He did Dickensian, then didn’t work again for, like, a year, and he got really bad. He still really only works and goes home. I had to twist his arm to even get him to agree to this. ”

“Is it really your place to be telling me this?” you asked, halfway-jokingly, and Wes smiled. 

“It’s definitely not,” Wes said humorlessly. “But you deserve to know how he reacted when you broke up with him. It ruined him. He deserves better than that, and if you’re going to hurt him again, then don’t even bother.” 

“What makes you think that we’re gonna get back together?” you asked. “He wants nothing to do with me.” 

“That’s not what that kiss outside said,” Wes shrugged. “Just… Don’t let him down. Like I said, he’s been hurt enough by you.” 

You felt thoroughly shaken by that, but you nodded and righted yourself as Joe came back to the table, resting his hand on your shoulder. “What do you want to drink?” he asked. “I’ll get it for you.” 

“Oh, umm,” you started. “I can get it. Sit down, visit with Wes, I’ll be right back…” Quickly, before he could ask questions, you stood up and made your way to the bar. You needed a second alone to absorb everything Wes had just told you, but Joe had his own idea, taking the back of your shirt in a gentle grip and following you to the bar. 

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Joe said firmly. 

“Nothing,” you told him. “Everything’s fine.”

“Did Wes say something?” Joe asked. 

“No,” you insisted. “I just… This was a bad idea, all of this was a terrible… I’m going home.” 

“No, wait,” Joe said quickly. “Talk to me, darling, tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I’m not your darling,” you said quickly, edging past him towards the door. “Not anymore, I fucked that up so long ago—”

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” Joe told you, following you once again, out onto the street. 

“We could have been married by now, Joe!” you exclaimed. “We could’ve had kids by now! We could have had entirely different lives, the lives we always wanted, if it weren’t for me and-and my— I was an idiot, I was stupid and I thought I saw the signs and—”

“Hey, easy,” Joe said softly, shushing you as he pulled you into his arms. “You’re right, our lives could be completely different, but you weren’t the only one in the breakup. I could have tried to explain myself, I could have done a million things to keep you, but I didn’t, and I’ve fucking regretted it every day since then. You were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and, if I could, I’d snap my fingers and have everything change, but I can’t do that. All I can do is beg you, please, come back to me.”

“But I did so wrong by you,” you whimpered. “Why do you still want me?” 

“Because I love you,” Joe told you. “I’ve loved you since I met you, and every morning, I wake up without you next to me and it fucking hurts. I want this to stop hurting. Please.” His eyes were big and wet, pleading and begging with every inch of himself, and you sniffled as you pressed your hand to his cheek. 

“Joey,” you said on shaky breaths. “I want you back too, but I can’t… I’ll just hurt you again.” 

“How are you sure?” Joe asked. “You don’t know that. Maybe we needed the few years apart to find ourselves, so when we came back together, we’d be more mature and… Darling, please. What do you need me to do? Get on my knees? I’ll do whatever you need me to. I just need you back in my life, please.” 

“Baby, please,” you sighed. “Stop begging. I’m… It’s such a terrible idea. How the actual fuck are we supposed to go back to being together like nothing happened? I’ll always feel guilty about the things I did to you.”

“But you don’t need to be,” Joe said. “You made the best decision you could have with the information you had. If I had the same evidence, I would have done the same. My girl, please.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut as your tears fell, and you mumbled, “Everything in me is telling me not to do this, but… I’ll do it. Maybe we can do a trial run, a few weeks together casually, and if that works, we can… We can be together fully.” 

“I’ll take it,” Joe said quickly. He nodded quickly, putting his hands on your waist, and he said, “I leave London the day after tomorrow for the MTV Awards, but-but, yes, a trial run would be amazing.” 

“MTV?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “Were you nominated for something?” 

“Well, no,” Joe started. “But me and a few other guys from Stranger Things are presenting an award.”

“My famous actor,” you chuckled lightly, knocking his chin playfully with your knuckle, and Joe flushed. “I’m proud of you.” 

“Thank you, darling,” Joe said softly. “I’ve always dreamed of hearing you say that.”

The rest of the night went by better than you expected. Joe convinced you to go back inside Soho House with Wes, and the three of you threw back drinks and laughed like old times. It felt like no time had passed, all of the same old jokes coming back to you and making you laugh as hard as the first time, all of the “Remember when Joe…” or “Do you still…”, and Joe’s hand rested on your thigh all night, inching further and further up as the night went on. Eventually, as his thumb rubbed your inner thigh about half past eleven, you sighed and put down your glass. “Well, gents,” you said. “This has been just lovely, but I need to get going. I open at work tomorrow, which means I’ve gotta wake up early.” 

“No!” Wes sighed. “Don’t leave!” 

“I have to!” you giggled, pulling your purse around your body. “Bye, Wessy, it was so nice to see you!” 

“Wait,” Wes said, standing up and drawing you into a tight hug. You smiled into his shoulder as he embraced you, and, when he pulled away, he said, “Okay, now you can go.” 

“Alright,” you chuckled. Then, you turned to Joe, unsure of how to depart, and he stood up too. 

“I’ll walk you outside,” Joe said. “Have to make sure my woman gets home safe.” 

“Your woman?” you scoffed. 

“Won’t have anyone touch my woman,” Joe mumbled, grabbing his suit jacket from the back of the seat and tossing it over his shoulders. You smiled as he put a hand on your back and led you outside, the city bustling now, and, once you were outside, you hugged Joe tightly, hand on the nape of his neck. 

“Thank you, Joey,” you said. “Maybe we can see each other again before you leave for Santa Monica.” 

“Come home with me,” Joe said quickly. “Please?” 

“Cheeky bloke,” you grinned. “S’that all you want from me? Just a little fuck?” 

“No!” Joe huffed. “I mean, yes. I mean…” He laughed a little, and he said, “Are you drunk?” 

“A little,” you admitted. 

“Me too,” Joe cringed. “This is a terrible idea, isn’t it? I should let you go home and go to work tomorrow, and we can save this for when I come back.” 

“Or,” you started, then lowered your voice, tangling your finger in the silver chain around his neck. “You can take me home, we don’t fuck, but we can do all of that other stuff anyway.” 

“I could do with a cuddle or two,” Joe mumbled, rubbing his jaw with his hand, jokingly thoughtful. “But you have work tomorrow.” 

“So I’ll call in sick,” you said. “We can spend all day together tomorrow, catching up and everything.” 

“That sounds tempting,” Joe said. “Can we fuck tomorrow, when we’re both sober?” 

“Yes,” you told him. “Now, call a cab, and take me home.” 

It was the same flat that Joe and Wes used to live in. You still remembered your way around and all of the motions you used to go through, setting your purse on the dining table and toeing off your shoes at the door— it even smelled the same as it used to, laundry soap and cigarettes, and you giggled as Joe led you into his bedroom. The things in it had changed, a different bed frame and different photographs and different curtains, but the bed felt the same as you laid on your back, looking up at the same ceiling that you used to. Everything was so different, but so similar, and you watched as Joe shrugged out of his suit jacket and let it crumple to the floor as he went for his belt. At least that hadn’t changed. Your messy little Joey. 

“Joey?” you whispered, and Joe looked at you with big eyes, waiting for you to say more. You wanted to tell him that you loved him, that you had never stopped loving him, that you would always love him, but all that came out was, “You said something about cuddles?” 

“I did,” Joe said softly. “Let me get undressed, love.” 

You sat up and moved over to meet him by the closet door, and you nudged his hands away in favor of your own hands undoing his belt. “Let me…” you mumbled, feeling the buckle loosen, and it fell away in an instant. Joe sighed, his hand coming up to cradle the back of your head, and he pressed his lips to your forehead as you tugged his belt out of the loops. 

“I missed you,” Joe whispered, and you frowned. 

“I’m so sorry, Joey,” you told him. “I was so stupid, I should have just listened to you.”

“It’s okay,” Joe told you. “At least you came back to me.” 

“I love you,” you whispered, and Joe smoothed down your hair gently. 

“I love you so much,” Joe mumbled. His hand fell from your hair and went to the bottom of your shirt, and he tugged it up and off. You undressed each other with gentle love, stealing kisses and stepping back towards the bed, and you cuddled close into Joe’s warm chest as he laid down next to you. He was left only in his boxers, you in your panties, and his arm went around you, squeezing you for a moment. “Oh, my girl… I never thought I’d get to hold you again.” 

“I’m right here,” you told him, gently kissing his chest. “I’ll never leave again.”

The night passed with comfort, bundled up in Joe’s safe arms. He fell asleep quickly, just like he always used to, and you slept well in his grip. You only woke up at around 7 in the morning, with your phone going off across the room, and you groaned and wiped sleepily at your eyes. Joe was still holding you in a death grip in his sleep, and you pried yourself out of his arms and carefully crossed the room to retrieve your buzzing phone. Your mum was calling. Oh God. 

You slipped out of the bedroom, carefully shutting the door behind you, before you answered the phone. “Hey, Mum,” you said, wrapping your arms around yourself. It was cold, especially with your level of undress, and you went to the small laundry room to try to find a shirt or something. “Why’re you calling me so early?” 

“I was looking at the news as I had my coffee,” your mum began, and you flipped up a t-shirt that was sitting in the dryer. It smelled clean, like Joe, and unwrinkled, and you slipped it up over your head as your mum spoke. “And I saw an interesting article.”

“Oh, yeah?” you asked absently. 

“Yes,” your mum said. “It was a series of pictures of you and that Joseph boy on the street, snogging away without a care in the world.”

“What?” you said sharply. “Where did you see this? Send it to me! There’s a news article about us?” 

“I thought that you and Joseph broke up years ago,” your mum said. You were fully awake now, setting her on speakerphone as you went to Google and searched up Joseph’s name. Just as your mother said, there was a news article, some ratty gossip mag, your picture splayed across the front of the website: WHO IS STRANGER THINGS’S EDDIE DATING? It was a paparazzi picture from last night, of you and Joseph at nightfall, kissing and smiling, and your heart fell deep into your stomach. “Are you back together?” 

“Umm, it’s complicated,” you answered. You could hardly even register the hangover in your skull with the rapid panic of your heartbeat, and you went back into the bedroom to find Joe now awake, squinting as he looked at his phone screen without his contacts in. “Kinda? It-It’s hard to explain.” 

“Did you see—” Joe started to ask, and you frowned as you nodded. “Shit, darling, I didn’t think—”

“Well, explain it,” your mum told you. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You sighed. “Joe and I are back together,” you said. “But he’s leaving the country tomorrow and won’t be back for a while, so it’s a lot more… Casual, than I think either of us want it to be.” 

“But I thought he cheated on you?” your mum asked.

“I can call my publicist and see what we can do about getting this removed,” Joe started. “Do you want me to do that?” 

You felt sick. Everyone talking to you at once, the upset in your chest, an odd feeling of betrayal— it was too much. “Joe, stop, please,” you said quickly. “No, Mum, Joe didn’t cheat on me. I thought he did, but he didn’t. I-I have to go and sort this out, I’m sorry. Bye.” You hung up the phone and sighed, and you sank down onto the bed and covered your face with your hands. 

“Darling?” Joe asked. “What can I do?” 

“I didn’t even think that there would be paparazzi,” you admitted. “I’m so stupid, of course there were paparazzi around…”

“Stop, love, don’t do that,” Joe said quickly. “I should have warned you that it was a possibility. I didn’t think about how… I’m still getting used to being a celebrity, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh, God,” you mumbled. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. This might be more than I’m cut out for.” 

“No, what?” Joe asked. “Darling, no, don’t say that. Just because we were outed by a trashy website doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be together. I-I think we were made for each other, don’t let this little thing discourage you.” 

“It’s not a little thing, though!” you said, your voice wavering. “It-It’s a big thing! I was okay living in anonymity, but this is— I was fine not being well known, but you— You’re the most talked-about guy on the planet right now! I’m not sure I’m meant to be Joseph Quinn’s girlfriend, maybe it was good that we broke up before you got super famous.” 

“What do you mean?” Joe asked. He looked hurt, like a little puppy, and he said, “Do you not want this?” 

“I want this more than anything!” you said. “But I’ve only ever had a handful of acting jobs before, I’m a fucking server for God’s sake, I don’t think I’m ready to give that up! Right now, my options are to date you and lose my anonymity, or keep it but lose you!”

Joe sighed, shaking his head. “Well, love, I can’t make that decision for you,” he said. “What do you think is best?” 

You sniffled. “I don’t want to lose you again,” you whimpered. “But I… I don’t know.”

Joe was quiet, and he took your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across your palm, and he finally said, “Let me make some calls and see what I can do about getting those pictures taken down.”

“No,” you sniffled. “Leave them up. I want everyone to know that you’re the man I love. I’m not ashamed of that.” 

Joe nodded quickly. “Darling,” he started. “I don’t want to leave tomorrow if you’re this upset.” 

“I’m not upset,” you told him. “Not anymore. It’s not something that either of us can control, so why bother being upset about it? Or at least I can try to believe that… I don’t want you to leave either.” 

“What if I don’t leave?” Joe asked. “What if I cancelled and stayed here with you?”

“No, you can’t cancel the day before,” you said softly. “I wish there was some way I could… I don’t know, go with you. So that we didn’t have to leave each other right now.” 

Joe’s eyes lit up, and he said, “Actually… There might be a way. When I was first asked to present the award, they asked if I had a date, and I said no, but I wonder if it’s too late to say yes.” 

“The day before?” you cringed. “They’d have to shuffle around so much shit. And so would you. And I don’t have a dress or anything to wear, and I’m awful at doing my makeup—”

“Let me call my team,” Joe asked. “I wonder if Fabio can put something together for you, and my makeup artist might be able to… Don’t count this out, let me call my manager and see what we can do.”

Whether Joe had a silver tongue or what, you had no idea, but, by the time you had called into work to ask for the day (and next few ones) off, you were officially a guest at the MTV Awards. He had managed to secure you a spot— “you may not be sitting next to us, but you’ll be there”— and he was calling his stylist as you slipped out of the flat to go back to yours to pack. You couldn’t remember the last time you had done something spontaneous like this, and your heart thumped when you returned to Joe’s flat, luggage in hand. He was still in his boxers, although now he wore a t-shirt, and he smiled and opened his arms to you. “Tell me I’m the best boyfriend ever,” he said.

“Why?” you asked. 

“My stylist, Fabio, said that he got permission from Valentino to loan him a dress for you last minute,” Joe told you, and you gasped. “I’m wearing Valentino, and now, so are you. I still have to call my makeup artist and see if she can do anything for us, but, baby—“

You jumped forward and hugged Joe tightly, laughing and smiling along with him. It felt like a dream, and you could hardly believe your luck as you pressed your lips to Joe’s. You got to kiss him again. You got to hug him again. You were the luckiest girly in the world. He sighed as he kissed you, gentle and loving, and his lips parted from yours all too soon for your liking. “Let me make more calls,” he whispered, his eyes intensely watching you. You didn’t feel small or inferior under his gaze, only loved, and he kissed your forehead before he parted from the hug. “See what I can do for you.” 

“I love you,” you told him, and Joe’s ears tinged pink as he blushed. “You’re amazing.” 

“I love you too,” Joe said. “I… Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but I was… I was in a bad place when you left me. It was… I didn’t eat. I hardly slept. I could only think about how badly I had fucked up.” 

“Stop,” you said, shaking your head. “You did nothing wrong at all. You’re literally the least guilty person in this situation, you did nothing at all, and I was… I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. And I will, for as long as you want me to. I didn’t listen to you or let you speak when it happened, and you were right to, like, cut me off and out and shit, I would have done the same, and you’re remarkable for forgiving me and wanting me back, and then bending over backwards to help me so I can wreck your plans. I don’t deserve you.” 

Joe stepped back close to you, and he wrapped his arms around you and touched his nose against yours. “All I’ve ever wanted is you,” he told you. “And now I have you again.” 

You thought about what Wes had told you, how Joe was so close to proposing all those years ago, and you whispered, “Did you… Keep it?” 

“Keep what?” Joe asked. 

“The ring,” you said, and you swallowed thickly. “Do you still have it?” 

Joe nodded slowly. “I always thought that, one day, I’d have you back to wear it,” he said. “Do you want to see it?” 

“I’d like to wear it this weekend,” you told him, your heart beating up in your throat and nearly choking you. “If that’s okay with you.”

“That’s…” Joe started,, and he scoffed and smiled that movie-star smile. “That’s more than okay. I’d love nothing more. Let me go get it, a-and if you end up hating it, we can find a new one for you.”

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” you told him, and Joe nearly tripped on himself as he hurried out of the living room and back into his bedroom. You followed him, albeit at a slower pace, and you leaned against the doorframe as you watched him rummage in his closet. He checked the topmost shelf, pushing his hand all the way back to the wall, and he finally closed his fingers around a small box, dragging it out of its hiding spot. The velvet on the outside of the box was a little dusty from eight years in his closet, and he blew on it and gave you a sheepish grin as he handed you the box. 

You cracked it open and was met face to face with a silver diamond ring, not gaudy but big enough for it to be obvious that a large chunk of money went into purchasing it. Your mouth fell open, and you gasped softly at the sight of it, and you frowned instantly. “Joe—”

“Oh, you hate it,” he whispered. “It’s too big, isn’t it? I can get you something smaller.”

“No, no, I love it,” you said quickly. “It’s just… You kept it this whole time?”

“I told you,” Joe said. “I always thought that you’d come back and want to wear it.” 

“Well, you were right,” you chuckled. “Put it on me, darling?” 

Joe stepped forward, and he took the ring box from your hand and carefully lifted the ring from its velvet home. He took your hand in his and carefully slid the ring onto your finger, and you held it out for both of you to admire. “What kinda ring is this?” you asked. “A promise ring, or… More?”

“It’s whatever you want it to be,” Joe told you. 

“Can I be honest?” you asked, and Joe nodded, and you finally let your thick throat win, and you began to cry. “The thought of you being with any other girls makes me sick. I get so jealous a-and I know it’s not healthy, but I need to be your only one.”

“Have you dated since me?” Joe asked, and you shook your head. “I told you that I’ve been on dating apps, but it… I was chasing something like what you gave me, and I could only find your kind of love with you. I don’t want anybody else’s love, just yours. So… This ring?” 

“I’d marry you in an instant,” you told him, pressing your hands to his cheeks. “My sweet, amazing Joe.”

You helped Joe finish packing that day as he finished his phone calls, securing a makeup artist for you the next night, and he didn’t answer his publicist’s hounding for a response to the articles. Your flight left early in the morning for Santa Monica, and you spent every second with Joe. It felt nice to be surrounded by him again, and, before you slept that night, you gave him a kiss and bundled up in his arms. 

The day felt like a whirlwind. You barely had a second to breathe, and you followed Joe blindly the entire time, holding his hand and letting him take you wherever he needed to. It was good to be able to blindly trust someone again, especially after spending so long apart from each other; the fact that you were able to slip right back into that meant the world to you. Finally, you reached the hotel where preparations were being made for the awards show, and you met Joe’s favorite stylist, Fabio. Fabio was kind and silly, joking all the time and making you feel right at home, and he dressed you in a dark brown dress that complimented Joe’s suit. You smiled, watching your lover get dressed and get confused by the long scarf-like accessory attached to the shirt, and you held him close as his publicist nearly demanded to take pictures by the large window. He buried a kiss in your styled hair, and you grinned as you presented the ring to the camera. It felt special to be able to share your love with everyone now, and, as you held Joe’s hand as you approached the red carpet later that night, you felt like your heart would burst. 

You had to run the gauntlet of photographers and interviewers before you could go inside and escape the sunshine, and Joe held you firmly, cringing in the sunlight but smiling at you. You were very aware of the photographers calling your name, only knowing it because of the most last-minute change to the guest list, and you grinned as best as you could with your professionally-done makeup and soft lipstick smile. Your heart was lodged anxiously in your throat for the entire time (which was really only maybe 5 minutes, but felt like hours), and you sighed as Joe approached the first woman with a microphone. You tried to step away from the camera, to give him the limelight and let the focus be on him, but his arm snaked around your middle and kept you close to him. 

“Mister Joe Quinn!” The interviewer smiled as he approached. “What a sight you are! How’s your night so far?” 

“Oh, God, bless you,” Joe chuckled. “I-It’s alright. Stressful, but good.” 

“And who is this?” she asked, and Joe looked at you with his gaze playful, a look you recognized, even years on.

“This is my wife,” Joe said, and you laughed, squeezing your eyes shut. 

The interviewer grinned at you. “You’re married to the most desired man in the world right now,” she said. “How’s it feel?” 

You stammered over your words as you spoke, acutely aware that whatever you said would be broadcast all over the world. Your few roles had the same effect, but this was something different. “I-I can hardly believe it,” you said. “When I first met Joey, we were kids, and he wasn’t… Watching him grow and mature and become what he’s always dreamt of being, it’s rewarding. I love this cheeky bloke, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.”

“And what do you think of Eddie?” she asked. “Did you like him?”

If you were lying already… “Well, someone didn’t warn me about the ending,” you chuckled. “And that would have been nice.” 

“I told you you’d cry,” Joe scoffed. 

“Well…” you sighed, and you smiled at the interviewer. “I loved Eddie. He’s my favorite thing Joe’s ever done.” 

“So, Joe,” the interviewer said. “What’s next for you?” 

Joe shrugged, pouting his lips. “I’m not too worried about what comes next,” he said. “I’m gonna sit in this sun and bask for a while.” 

You leaned in and softly whispered, “You deserve it.” Joe looked at you with a small smile, and he kissed your cheek softly. 

“Alright, well, you’ve got a long night, so don’t let me keep you too long,” the interviewer said. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, love,” Joe said kindly, and you smiled and waved at her as you stepped forward towards the next well-dressed interviewer and camera. 

“Wife?” you mumbled through a smile, and Joe nodded. 

“I’m off the market,” Joe shrugged. “Is that so bad?” 

“Not at all,” you said. “I like you being off the market.” 

“Good,” Joe said. “I like you being off the market.”

“My man,” you hummed, and you leaned forward and kissed him. “Thank you. For absolutely everything.” 

“Thank you for giving me someone to give everything to,” Joe said. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

-

taglist: @corrodedarchiv, @faeriemunson14, @steddieloverrr, @wordscomehither, @harley1608, @ellolovely22, @birdysaturne, @freakymunson, @miserybeans, @3rd-conchord

#joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn rpf

[annieqattheperipheral]

Go give him a follow!!

Full article behind $wall:

When Travis Dermott takes the ice in Los Angeles on Tuesday night, he plans to do so without the strip of Pride tape that thrust the Arizona Coyotes defenseman into the middle of one of the NHL’s most controversial topics over the weekend.

“I think the one game probably ruffled enough feathers and got enough attention,” Dermott told The Athletic on Monday night.

This is not a case of the 26-year-old being silenced or deterred, though.

Not exactly.

Some 48 hours after he skated in defiance of a new NHL rule that prohibits players from displaying “cause messaging” on their equipment by wrapping Pride tape around the shaft of his Warrior stick on Saturday afternoon, Dermott had yet to even be contacted directly by any league officials.

However, given the chance to gauge the immense amount of coverage and attention his act of LGBTQ+ allyship received and with some time to reflect on how it may have put members of the Coyotes organization in an awkward position, he figures his point had effectively been made.

And that there still exist other avenues for him to continue to make it.

“The war’s not over. Definitely not, by any means,” Dermott said. “You don’t want to fully back off and zip your mouth up when something like this happens, but you’ve got to find the right game plan to attack it with.

“Where you’re supporting your organization and not making them look bad, and you don’t want to step on the league’s toes and really start a fight with them, but still tell them that I think this stuff’s important.”

Dermott didn’t consult with management, the coaching staff or any of his peers before wrapping the rainbow-colored tape around the shaft of his stick shortly before a 2-1 win over the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena.

It’s a practice he’s regularly followed dating to his days in the AHL, and the only reason it took until the fifth game of Arizona’s season for him to use the tape again was that he was awaiting a new shipment after misplacing his previous batch during an offseason move from Vancouver.

Dermott was aware of the new NHL regulations, but he felt it was important to continue showing support for a cause and a community that are near and dear to his heart.

“None of the players really saw me put it on my stick,” Dermott said. “It was kind of just an: ‘All right, I’m doing this, and we’re going to deal with the consequences and move forward, and hopefully I’ll have a positive impact on some people that needed that positive impact.’”

While it’s not surprising that Dermott would put himself out there in the name of supporting the LGBTQ+ community given his long history of doing so — “I had someone close to me who is in that community and wasn’t completely comfortable coming out, and still hasn’t, actually,” he said — it makes it all the more notable that he did so at a time when he’s fighting to re-establish himself in the league.

Dermott was limited to just 11 games with the Canucks last season because of lingering concussion issues and is playing on a two-way contract now that would see him paid at a reduced rate if the Coyotes elect to send him to AHL Tucson.

In his skates, it would have been far easier to do nothing given the current climate at the NHL’s head office.

So why did he instead become the first player to defy a rule that’s generated considerable consternation in dressing rooms across the continent?

“It’s easy to forget that it’s a battle if it’s not in front of you,” Dermott said. “If you don’t see it every day, if it’s swept under the rug, if it’s just hidden from the naked eye, it’s easy to forget that there’s a group of people that don’t feel like they belong because the majority of people do feel like they belong.

“Once we stop thinking about that, I think that’s when it gets dangerous.”

Dermott openly acknowledges that he experienced some anxiety in the wake of Saturday’s game. He never imagined the reaction would be as significant and widespread as it was. That started to dissipate when it became clear the Coyotes were willing to stand alongside him.

“The reaction that I’ve gotten is complete support from my team,” Dermott said.

He did note that he apologized to the equipment staff for using the Pride tape without telling them.

“They’re the ones that are supposed to make sure that all of our gear is up to spec and legal and all that stuff,” he said. “I did feel a little bit like I betrayed those guys. … But I think at the same time they’re so good at understanding and they know that I wasn’t being malicious toward them.”

The challenge now is finding ways to keep supporting Pride initiatives against the backdrop of the new NHL rules.

The Coyotes are scheduled to host their Pride night on Friday — the first team to do so since the league clarified its regulations in an Oct. 9 memo distributed to teams — and Dermott is still working through his own plans to mark that occasion.

“My Instagram will probably be more active from here on out,” he said. “I’m going to be actively finding ways now that I don’t completely shut up and … don’t piss off the league and (comply) with their rules.

“But, yeah, I’m still here. The fight’s not over. We’re going to continue to talk about this. And if the league doesn’t want it to be on league time then we’ll find other ways.”

Like many of his peers, Dermott was emotional when he found out the NHL was prohibiting cause messaging this season. That decision came out of June’s board of governors meeting after a handful of players created headlines last season by refusing to join their teammates and wear Pride sweaters during warmups.

“You can see it as the league’s taking away our voice,” said Dermott. “We can’t speak. We don’t have any of this expression anymore. I feel like that’s a valid way to think, and it’s easy to kind of see it that way. A lot of people do, and I’m sure will continue to.

“It’s such a fine line where the league wants to look good and the league wants to support all of these things, but you also don’t want all of the negativity that can come from someone not supporting it and you don’t want to force people who don’t support something to support something, and I completely understand that point of view.

“I can take a step back and see that, hands down, no problem. But at the same time, you’d love for players to still be able to express themselves if they would like. You’d love to still have that.”

Dermott speaks passionately about the people he’s met in the LGBTQ+ community since first publicly supporting the cause. Through heart-to-heart conversations, he’s learned that it’s sometimes the most outgoing personalities in a room who privately benefit from seeing an NHL player “with a strip of tape on their stick.”

“I don’t hear of many people really spending time with the LGBTQ community and feeling pushed away from them,” said Dermott. “You only get more comfortable with stuff like that and you learn that they’re people, too — completely normal people that have the majority of the exact same life as you, so why would we treat them differently just because of who they’re interested in or not interested in?

“It just seems insane to me.”

And to many others, it seems. Dermott was overwhelmed with the outpouring of support that followed his decision Saturday. He estimates that the tone of those messages was “99.99 percent positive.”

“As athletes, we have such a great platform to spread love, and I think if we’re not spreading that love then what the hell are we doing?”

#travis dermott #arizona coyotes #pride tape #pride jerseys #nhl garbage league

[finleyforevermore]

BACK AT IT AGAIN WITH THE CCCC MUSICAL IDEAS YALL!!!!

Spring and a Storm is canonically a Soul song buutttt, it's an musical adaptation!! We can mess around a bit!! So the idea I had is that Soul is basically trying to clear the air between Mind and Heart (as a rift is already beginning to start again between them), and while snooping around for something that could bring them together in Mind's room (because memories are stored in the mind/brain and all that-), he stumbles across a memory in the form of a VHS tape labeled "love song". What better way to bring your brothers together and unite them with a common goal than a love song right? So Soul plays the tape, Heart is prideful because it's his work showing (proving to Mind that he's useful!) when suddenly the tape ends! Soul and Heart (yes only those two, because Mind, with his blue, logical butt, doesn't get the appeal of the love song (good ol fashioned foreshadowing for Storm and a Spring later on)) ponder briefly before deciding to just..finish it up themselves! Thus we get some cute springtime imagery and umbrella choreography (to mirror Storm and a Spring) and Mind looking uninterested in the back. I got this idea from the fact that the first minute or so sounds kinda low quality compared to the rest of it. So my thought was...VHS tape!

There's what i can best describe as a wall of lights in the back of the stage. Think of something similar to the wall of lights in Diana the Musical.

So basically throughout the show (notably in Dream, Night, Light, and The Soul Eclectic), the Wall of Lights is in action!

During Night, HMS are dressed in the OTHER colors they are associated with (Soul in grey, Mind in white, and Heart in black)

The boys are having an absolute blast during Variations on a Cloud; they can start an audience clap-along as a treat.

During VOAC, the boys and the ensemble are holding glowing prop clouds, think of something like the McC*rter version of Sugar Cloud from Ride the Cyclone!

During The Bidding, the set is made to resemble an auction house. With each verse Heart and Mind sing (Soul is the auctioneer so he doesn't participate) they slam color-coded currency (Heart gets purple and black dollars, Mind gets white and blue dollars, the ensemble gets gray, red, and gold (to represent Whole) dollars) down on a table perhaps, until Heart tries to attack Mind during the "And here he is, the piece of shit, sitting, seething, high atop his stolen throne" bit.

During the "See how the serfs work the ground..." bit in "The Soul Eclectic", Soul gestures towards either the band/orchestra in the pit (or onstage!) or to the audience.

#chonny's charming chaos compendium #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cccc #cccc the musical! 🎶 #soul chonny jash #soul cccc #soul cj #the soul eclectic #heart chonny jash #heart cccc #cccc heart #heart cj #mind cccc #cccc soul #cccc mind #mind cj #mind chonny jash #spring and a storm #dream #night #light #the heart acoustic #the mind electric #variations on a cloud #the bidding

[writersarchivex]

Just The Costume Designer: E.P

Elvis x Reader

Summary: You've been Elvis' designer for years, finally you got to do something useful

word count: 2k

theres a part two! click here loves <3

not that proud of this one, but eh. you can imagine austin!elvis or the real thing. whatever floats your boat.

enjoy, or dont its up to you my loves.

You were sat at your desk, going over some papers when you got the call. You had a meeting in ten minutes with Elvis, and his people. You had worked for Presley Enterprises for five years. You were Elvis' personal costume designer. Sometimes, at the beginning of your time working there, you found yourself doubling as his assistant.

Since he's been doing more movies than shows though, you were needed a lot less. It was sad, but of course you can always find plenty of ways to pay the bills. You owned the business, working this Elvis put a bit of fame behind your name, just enough to make it big.

You were successful.

You weren't sure why they wanted to meet with you, you didn't design his outfits for the movies he was in.

He was your friend though, so of course you would sit in on the meeting as long as he wanted you there.

Your feelings for Elvis had been placed on the back burner in your mind for years. You liked him.

A lot.

The two of you grew closer over the years. Designing costumes was sort of an intimate thing when you really thought about it. You're in the room alone with a person, hands on their body, just a measuring tape in hand, sometimes they had less than minimal clothes on.

You wrapped up a few more things realizing the meeting quite literally started in a minute.

You pulled EP's file, making your way to the meeting room feeling excited to see him.

Your heels clicked against the floor as you nodded to your employees.

They gave you warm smiles as you walked.

You opened the door, knowing that they would all be in there already. They were busy people, but so were you.

The table was full, leaving a spot for you, right next to Elvis of course.

"EP. Good to see you." You smiled, as you saw him.

He smiled back and stood giving you a quick hug.

"We called this meeting to discuss a design we need for EP. It's for the upcoming Christmas special." Jerry stated, throwing a file over to you.

Your eyebrow's furrowed. You didn't do Christmas specials.

Elvis knew that, they all knew that.

"Well, this looks big, so I believe a congratulations is in order,"

"I'm not sure why I'm needed though. This seems pretty, simple." You said politely.

You hated being so professional. These were your closest friends at one point.

"That's the thing Y/N. We need to make it bigger. We want to bring the real EP back, and we have to make a statement with it. He needs a costume. Something bold. He needs you."

Now this, was interesting.

"Hm, and whose idea was this?" You said looking at all the men that lined the table.

Elvis cleared his throat, leaning against the chair.

"Mine."

Pride swelled through you. You were beyond proud.

"Fucking finally. I'm in."

The men laughed as you stood to walk towards the door,

"Beth clear my schedule for the rest of the week. Give all the high-profile cases to Gemma, only contact me for emergencies."

Your assistant nodded, looking a bit confused.

You opened his file, memories flooding your mind as you did so. He always wore your best work. Nothing you ever designed for him was ever below par.

"Okay. EP and I will take it from here." The men smiled at your direction.

As a designer, you knew that managers had far too much impact on what thier clients wore.

As his friend you knew he was far too quick to give them all the power. This had to be between the two of you.

As the boys exited the room, you were pulling out sketch pads and pencils.

The room was clear, and you were left alone with Elvis.

"I don't know why you wear them old shoes darlin'. They look like the most uncomfortable thing.'

His voice was deep. Raspy. You loved it, then again so did the rest of America.

"Gotta be professional and lady like." You smiled, taking a seat next to him.

You took a look at the file again, if you were gonna bring the old EP back you had to go back to the origin.

"What're you thinking EP. I want this to be up to you. Your choice."

Pencil in hand, you wrote as he spoke passionately.

"I want it to be hard. Like intimidating, but I want it to be me. This is the biggest thing that happened to me in a long time, Y/N. 

You smiled and the thought came to you immediately.

"Leather baby. You want leather."

------

It had been a couple of days since you've seen Elvis. 

Today he was due for his fitting appointment, you took quick measurements the day that they all came in.

His measurements were still pretty much the same. He had filled out a bit over the years, but that was just him becoming a man. 

You had the suit ready, you just prayed you got it right.

This thing was your pride and joy. You swore that part of your soul was literally stitched into this suit.

Damn.

You had just gotten everything together, when Elvis opened the door. This was your personal office, and everyone knew not to come in. You knew he would appreciate the privacy.

"Hey lil' mama. How're we doin' today?" He called out.

You spun on your heels, and you took in the sight of him. He looked gorgeous as always.

The both of you made small talk after you convinced him to not look too hard at the suit as you were helping him try it on.

"God damn this thing is hot."

"Baby it's leather, it's gonna be hot." You laughed.

You were focused on the pants, making sure they reached the proper point at the bottom of his leg, turning him around, you definitely approved of the way his ass looked in the pants.

As he turned back around you came face to face with his bare chest, feeling a blush creep onto your face. 

You could practically feel his smirk. You knew him all too well.

Cocky bastard.

You continued to work, pinning a few things here and there, but you had to admit you did a wonderful job. 

You were nervous now. It was time for him to look.

"Okay, you can look now." You voiced, sharply inhaling as he took a look in the mirror.

He was silent. Like, pen drop silence. 

The silence was deafening.

He was just staring at himself.

"Its,"

"If you don't like it I'll redo it, or make you something else,"

He turned to you and took your face in his hands.

The metal of his rings were surprisingly cool. 

"It's perfect. It's me." He had never been that sincere about the work you had done for him.

"It's so perfect mama, I could just," 

His eyes darted to your lips, and before you knew it his lips were on yours.

This was pure heaven.

The kiss was everything you've ever wanted, and more. He was everything you wanted.

You loved him.

You loved him.

"Kiss you." He said as he pulled away.

You were a mess, cheeks read as a cherry and at a loss for words.

He let out a light laugh at your state, turning to look in the mirror again.

----

You had seen Elvis more often during the time leading up to the Christmas special. He wanted you around, wherever he went you went.

The two of you spent every moment together.

The two of you were basically a couple, but of course not officially one.

After the recent tragedies, you and Elvis were sitting with some of his guys, and they were writing a song.

A very beautiful song, nothing like you had ever heard before.

He was laying on the floor, looking at the lyrics in front of him. You could tell he was sad. The excitement he had felt before, was gone.

Of course it was, something terrible happened. 

The day of the shooting, you had made sure everyone at your company was safe, and you gave them the next day off with pay. No one should have to suffer more than they already have.

As they wrapped up, the boys left you and Elvis in the room alone. His eyes were still fixated on the paper.

"The Colonel ain't gonna be happy 'bout this one darlin." He said placing the paper on his stomach and turning to you.

You smiled at him. 

Now obviously you had a lot of words for and about the Colonel. He was a slimy old man.

You knew he needed something from you, reassurance maybe?

"Baby I don't think it matters what the Colonel thinks this time. It's about you, and the message you want to send. Not just to your fans, but to everyone. Lisa. Your daddy. The world." You stated, looking him in the eye the entire time.

He nodded and moved his head to stare at the ceiling. He took hold of your hand. 

"You're right darlin. Always are."

-----

Tonight was the night. Elvis had performed his songs beautifully, and it was time for the  number. 

You were sat, with the rest of the producers, as Tom Parker hobbled his way into the glass room

"Hey! It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas!"

You rolled your eyes, heart still pounding in your chest.

The camera turned to the giant backdrop. It was simple, but it still made a statement. 

There he was.

Dressed in white, a suit you of course picked and tailored for him, his song started.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

You could practically feel the passion radiating off of him, everyone else could as well.

The men in the room were in awe. Even the Colonel had shut his fat mouth, for a change.

If I can Dream

By the time the song ended, you were standing. Your eyes bore into the man who was sweating and out of breath.

"He did it." You smiled, earning quite the nasty look from Tom.

You waited for a while in Elvis' dressing room, still feeling dazed from his performance. Soon the door opened, and you excitedly jumped into his arms. 

He was sweaty and gross, but you didn't care.

"You did so amazin' honey" 

He held your lower back and smiled at you. 

"Couldn't have done it without you mama."

The little bit of praise received a blush from you. All you could is stare. 

He was so powerful. Everything about him completely amazed you. His confidence, his voice, his passion.

"I love you." 

There it was. 

The words had come spilling out of you like a waterfall, there was no stopping it.

He pulled away slowly, causing dread to spread throughout your whole body.

"What'd you just say to me?" He questioned, an unidentifiable look in his eyes. 

You couldn't help but look at the floor. 

You felt nothing but shame.

"I'm sorry." 

That was all you could muster up. It took everything in you to barely mutter those simple words

"Why would you love me?" He questioned, causing your head to shoot up.

What? Is he blind?

"Elvis Presley. You aren't too quick sometimes,"

"I've loved you forever. From the beginning."

He took a seat. 

This was incredibly awkward, and not how you had wanted it to happen.

Christ, the two of you weren't even together. 

You had never been officially together. 

"You are the most incredible, talented, and caring man I have ever met." 

You put it simply, because to be frank, you could go on for hours. 

"Hm." 

"I think it would be best if I left." You sighed, not wanting to get hurt.

His silence in the moment was enough for you to walk past, grabbing your bag on the way.

Just as you had taken a step past him, he grabbed your wrist.

"You know darlin' I've made a lot of mistakes."

You sighed, not really wanting to hear it, but you decided to stay anyway.

"Not askin' you to be my girl when we met was probably the biggest."

Now that was a bit of a stretch, you figured that the Colonel was his biggest mistake, but you chose to ignore that.

"Really EP?"

He nodded, pulling you to sit with him.

The two of you were sat incredibly close. Not leaving much space in between.

"I want you to be mine baby."

His words were deep, and husky.

"Then I'm yours." 

That was all it took for him to grab your chin and pull you in for a kiss.

Nothing about this kiss was innocent. Unlike your first one, you could feel the tension between the two of you. 

A few moments passed, and he pulled away.

"I love you too mama."

#austin butler elvis #elvis x reader #elvis 2022 #elvis presley #elvis presley fanfic #austin butler #austin!elvis x reader #fanfic #austin elvis #baz luhrmann elvis #elvis film #austin butler x reader

[lokischocolatefountain]

1. For Old Time’s Sake || Red Tape, Red Line

Series Masterlist

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: G (check ratings for each chapter)

Word count: 3.4k words

Summary: Javier runs into an old friend in DC.

A/N: Javier for Day 3! Thanks for the love for the last two fics. Here’s more and here’s my favorite- Javi. I do have a series of him in my Married!Javi fics. Buuuut, it doesn’t follow a chronological order. Unlike that, I’m trying to have a coherent storyline here. Writing a linear story happens to be my downfall so I’m gonna wait and see how this pans out. Hope you like the first instalment of this story!

Wallet, keys, ID, gun, badge.

He froze with his hand on the hotel side table holding only a generic lamp after he’d taken his possessions- wallet, keys, ID. There was no gun to slip into the back of his pants and no badge to strap on to his belt. After eight years of the routine, he’d grown used to the metal digging into his lower back, used to the danger it possessed and the illusion of safety it gave him.

When he’d woken up that night from an imagined bullet to his chest, he reached for it on the same table, his heart seizing up when he found it empty. The quiet streets of DC and the streetlights pouring in through the window helped ground him, told him where he was. He’d taken to repeating the mantra that had been helping him come to after his nightmares. You’re home. It’s over. You’re home. It’s over.

As he slipped into his suit jacket, he wondered if the mantra was even true anymore. When he told himself that it was over and he was home, did he mean the states? Because DC wasn’t home. But was the US home anymore? Laredo? Bogotá? Shit, if it wasn’t the first three, it definitely wasn’t that last one.

He bent down and pulled his suitcase out from under the bed, hand slipping inside to retrieve the red pack of Marlboros he stored inside. Everything was perfectly packed- shirts and pants ironed perfectly, socks rolled up and underwear folded neatly. With everything else in chaos in his life, this bit of orderliness brought him comfort. He once took some pride in how well he could pack his life up within minutes. Not since that hijo de puta rubbed in his face that despite his shit lifestyle, he had a wife and children to go home to. A family man, he’d called himself.

While he couldn’t even look his dad in the eye or bring himself to visit mom’s grave, men like Berna took themselves home to wives and children every night. It must need some level of delusion to be able to do so.

It wasn’t over. Nothing was over. He’d been fired- well, he resigned. Columbia was supposed to be behind him, but there was still work to be done, paperwork to write up, politicians to schmooze. As the day passed, he was passed around from desk to desk, bureaucrat to bureaucrat, all praising him or letting him know just how hard he’d made their lives. State, Defense, DOJ, CIA, the fucking White House— Javi of the past with the hot blood, wide eyes and the need to prove himself would be ecstatic to know where he’d land up in the future. He wouldn’t be too pleased with the journey, though.

He’d won.

At least that was what the ambassador had said. But it didn’t feel like it. While he’d grown up and let the cynicism of life get to him, there was still that younger Javi taking up too much space in his head, telling him that he had failed in what he’d set off to do and sold his soul in the process. That the last eight years had all been for naught. I went after Medellin and Cali and all I have to show for it is the fucking nightmares. Now that would make for a wonderful print on a t-shirt.

“Good afternoon, how may I help?”

“I have an appointment with The Assistant to the Chief of Staff. I’m Javier Peña,” he said, sliding his ID across the rich mahogany desk to the woman. She took his ID, checked her computer, his face, the ID, repeated the process and then slid the ID back to him.

“Mr. Peña, Mr. Reed is in another meeting right now, but he’ll be happy to see you once it’s over. I can direct you to our waiting room.”

Great.

He smiled, nodded and followed the woman through the state department his eyes roving over the workers as he wondered how many of them had to stay late nights to fuck up the progress he and his fellow agents made on the field. How many of them typed up letters from the Secretary of State with directives to back the fuck off right when he was about to nab a valuable target. How many of them were assigned to Colombia, how many to other countries where they played around in their own interests.

He’d always held these people with contempt and not much had changed. They got to sit in their cushy office with the nicest computers and air conditioning while he and his colleagues chased goons in the streets of a foreign country. These couch potatoes who wrote condemnations and pulled visas and told them how to do their fucking job as though they knew what it was like to have a kid threatening to kill you with a hand that was too small to be wrapped around a gun if you didn’t drop your own.

Did any of these people think about men like him? Think about what it was like when you lost yet another partner and had to live with the image of him bleeding out on the road as you woke up from yet another nightmare with yet another realization of what you should’ve done to save his life in that moment.

They did not, he decided when the clock ticked and ticked but there was no word for him. The receptionist came by once or twice to apologize on her boss’s behalf and offer him coffee. Coffee to add to his sleep deprivation? No thank you.

He politely declined both times, willing himself to not take his anger out on the poor woman. She was just doing her job.

When the clock hit six, he got off his chair and stepped out of the waiting room. He’d known frustration. More often than not, he was left clutching his head in one hand and a glass of whiskey in the other as his lungs burned from the cigarette between his lips as another step in his mission failed spectacularly. He knew frustration, but nothing like this brand of idle frustration where you had nothing to do but sit on an uncomfortable chair in the office of some prick who got paid more money a year than he would make in his entire life for doing fucking nothing.

So much for being a hero.

“Javier?”

He stopped outside the elevator door, turning around to see the face that called out his name.

Goddamn.

Her name slipped out through his lips, his tongue rolling around with as much practiced ease as it had done all those years ago. She looked exactly the same, yet completely different. Slightly taller as she walked up to him with the same smile, lips painted a deep red. Her hair was down instead of up in a bun. Her eyes gleamed with the same light he’d found in them over a decade ago. Although there was a new addition— crinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled. She’d exchanged the more practical field uniform for a nice blouse and skirt. A matching jacket hung off her arm and her hand was wrapped around the handles of a handbag.

“What are you doing here?” They asked at the same time. They exchanged smiles and he followed as she lead him into the elevator.

“I was supposed to meet someone. A Mr. Reed.”

“Ah. He wasn’t here for most of the day. Some fire to put out.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Did they have you waiting the whole day?” She asked, removing the lanyard with her ID. She hissed when it caught in her hair and he stepped in, untangling the thing from her hair and taking it off for her. He took the card between her fingers and read her name out loud.

“Policy Analyst. Damn, Glasses,” he trailed, using her nickname from their time in Quantico. “You really did get yourself the nerdiest job. Can’t say I’m surprised.”

He handed her ID back to her and she shoved it into her bag, smiling at her nickname rather than shoving him like she used to. Or threatening to tell on him to their training officer. “Alright, Pissy Pants Peña. You got me.”

He let out a laugh at her rebuttal. The name surprised him just as it had the first time she used it against him in a moment of weakness even though she’d claimed that nicknames were “so unprofessional and rude. I will not call my fellow trainees rude names just to look cool around other trainees.” The first time was when he’d aggravated her more than usual and she spat out the name he’d earned when he had so much to drink that he pissed his pants.

“Are you free to grab a drink? It’ll be nice to catch up,” he asked, hopeful that a drink with an old friend would make his terrible day a little less terrible.

“As long as you don’t piss your pants,” she joked, lips curving up in an easy smile before she gave him a clear yes.

She took him to a nearby bar, a favorite of the State Department staff, she said. Many recognized her there, including the bartender who asked her if she’d like her usual.

“You don’t do tequila shots anymore, I’m guessing.”

“Ah, no,” he chuckled, thinking back to his training days when they went out and got drunk on the rare days off from their intensive routine. “These days, I—”

“Whiskey?”

“Yeah. How did you guess?”

“You look like a whiskey man. I can just picture you sitting in a dark corner of a bar, all alone and serious, avoiding paperwork or thinking about how to bend the rules.”

“Oh? That so?”

“Mhmm,” she said, sipping on her glass of red wine. She was always a wine drinker. A wine snob, one might say. She did that little swirl that wine drinkers did, took a whiff of the drink and then a small sip.

“Is that part of your job as policy analyst? Analyzing lonely men in bars and guessing what’s in their heads…”

“No, but I’ve had to creep on lonely men drinking their whiskeys in my last job.”

“Oh? What was that?”

“CIA Operative.”

He raised an eyebrow at that. She didn’t seem the CIA type. But then again, it could be his generally positive regard for her and negative regard for the CIA that made it hard for him to imagine her being part of those bastards.

“And you left because?”

“I found out that I had to do things I didn’t want to do in order to survive in the CIA. Didn’t have the stomach for it. I thought that if I just followed all the rules and did my job, I could succeed, but…” she sighed before taking a sip of her drink. “I learned that doing the right thing and doing my job contradicted each other a bit too much.”

Under the dim light that hung above her head, she didn’t look as naïve as she used to. Following every little rule will get you nowhere, Glasses. He’d made fun of her for it several times, told her she didn’t know what the real world was like, that she was in for a big shock. Little did he know that he would be in for just as much shock if not more. While she was intent on doing everything by the book, she at least knew that certain things could never change. Her ambitions weren’t too big. While he and their other classmates talked big about changing the fucking world, she said she just wanted to do her part, just help things along. She saw the nuts and bolts of the machine, know how the gears turned and pointed to every mechanism that would stop him from realizing his lofty dream of “winning the war on drugs, baby!”

“There is no war. It’s just money and politics and even more money. And a fuckload of racism.”

Javi of the past chided her for her cynicism, but if she told him that now, he would buy her a drink.

“Oh and there was the time I got shot, so I can’t really be on the field anymore. My insides are too messed up,” she said, moving the fabric of her shirt aside to reveal a healed bullet wound peeking out from under her bra strap. “Guadalajara. And this is just one of seven. The guy was a terrible shot, though. And my surgeon was fucking amazing, so I live to tell the tale.”

“A lot has happened, huh?” He remarked, considering her wound carefully as he wondered where the other six bullets had hit her body. The knowledge that she’d look completely different underneath her clothes compared to what he remembered covering in kisses infuriated him. He needed to relearn the body he should’ve taken more time to learn. To strip the proper clothing off her and acquaint himself with what was new and reacquaint himself with the familiar. Would he even remember what was new? Was the one time enough for him to register her in his mind?

“Hmm yeah. A lot. Like your work with the cartels. You and your guys always found a way to get on our nerves in State.”

“Oh?” He feigned innocence. “I didn’t know I was pissing you off, Glasses. I’m sorry.”

“Aww, he’s sorry. Don’t even try me, Peña. It was almost like you and what’s the other guy’s name…? Murphy? Like you two were fucking shit up just to get on my nerves. And then Duffy and Lopez. Duffy always pissed me off, but then he and Lopez had to go have their faces plastered on the papers. I thought it was just some other Javier Peña but then that happened and I was sure it was you.”

“I didn’t ask Duffy and Lopez to do that, I swear. They did that all on their own.”

“Really? I knew you and Duffy were close back in the day. And it looked like something you would do, breaking the rules like that.”

“Now give me some credit, hermosa. Maybe I’ve learned to follow the rules a little in the past few years.”

“As one of the people who had to put out the fires you started, I’ll have to disagree respectfully.”

“I’m surprised I have your respect now. I didn’t have a modicum of that back then.”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad. I had some respect for you.”

“That so?”

“Yeah. You always…you wanted to do the right thing. We have differences of opinion on what the right thing was, but you always wanted to choose the option that would do the most good. I always admired that.”

“I’m not that person anymore.” He was the man who lied to his agents that the Ambassador did not prioritize the safety of their Cali insider. He was the man who got into bed with Los Pepes and did it again to rescue Christina Jurado. Whatever good she’d seen in him fizzled away the moment things got hard for him. He wondered how she would’ve done it. Had he been the type to follow rules like her, would he have kept his soul intact?

“I’m not surprised. I’m not the same person either. No glasses for one,” she joked, getting a light chuckle out of him. Her light demeanor dulled just a little and he could see through her eyes some kind of darkness that wasn’t there before.

“Things are rarely as we expect when we’re at the heart of the problem. Making the right choice is more…complex because— we have to choose between option that will all hurt people terribly in one way or the other.”

He nodded and took a sip of his drink, his mind reeling with all the times he needed to make decisions like that. They tended to be a lot more complex that he imagined when he was young and idealistic.

“Job like that, if it doesn’t change you, are you even human?”

“Right,” he said, not fully agreeing with the sentiment. The standards were completely different for the two of them. Sure, she would’ve faced those choices in the CIA. But she left. Long ago, he assumed, from her senior position at the State Department.

Whatever she had to do as CIA operative, it made her leave. Unlike him, she had the moral clarity to do it as early as she did. She looked more at ease now.

Maybe it was the fact that she had a cushy office job now, but the perpetual tension in her shoulders was missing. He’d prefer her version of change to his. Perhaps he should take up an office job, be relaxed, sit back at a desk and attend meetings about when to have meetings. His body sure couldn’t handle the field anymore. His knees and ankles still felt his jump from a balcony when he chased Jurado in Curaçao.

As much as he liked condemning himself to hell for his sins, as much as he liked withering away in shame when people heaped him with praises, it felt good to be on the receiving end of her empathy. The job did change everyone. If Glasses, the goody two shoes, stickler for the rules, ultimate teacher’s pet could understand that… Maybe he should too. If the field had changed someone like her, of course it changed him.

“So, umm… it’s getting late,” she said, looking up from her watch. “I have a rule about not having more than two drinks and,” she held up her second glass, half a sip of red wine resting in the bottom. “I had an early day today and will have an earlier day tomorrow. I got a meeting.”

Shoulders slumped, he nodded at her slowly. He didn’t want her to leave, didn’t want to lose the piece of a much calmer past. “It was great seeing you again, Glasses.”

“Likewise, Triple P.”

He tilted his head to one side, smiling at the new nickname. “Pissy Pants Peña is quite the mouthful, so… And it would be weird if my bosses heard it. We aren’t in our early twenties anymore and stupid shit like this could ruin a career.”

“Well, I no longer have a career to be ruined, so… But thanks anyway,” he said, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

“Nah ah ah,” she said in a sing-song voice, reaching into her bag. “You’re in my city, I’m not letting you pay. It’s bad manners.”

“Is it now?” he said, sliding a wad of cash across the bar to the bartender. “Is that one of your rules?”

“It is. You’re a guest in D.C. and it’s poor hospitality to not buy you a drink,” she said before turning to the bartender. “Josh, don’t take his money,” she said, handing the man some dollar bills from her purse. Josh ignored Javier’s money and took hers instead, alluding to whatever loyalty he had for her. She did say that the place was a State Department favorite. It made sense that she was on a first name basis with the guy.

He thumbed his mustache, the bristles scratching his finger gently. “What if I have a rule about that? That it’s poor manners to make a beautiful woman pay for her drinks and mine…”

“Then I’d expect you to say thank you for aiding you in your rule-breaking. I know how you love to do that.”

He grinned and licked his lips slowly, taking her in as she walked ahead of him. She never wore clothes like that before, pencil skirts that hugged her ass and high heeled shoes that made her hips sway in the most mesmerizing rhythm. As though feeling his stare, she turned around suddenly, making his head whip up so fast he could’ve broken his neck. Or it was just his old age.

“So, umm…Lunch sometime? We could continue this conversation,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Or not!” She added quickly. Painted fingernails scratched at each other, chipping away at the already lightly chipped red paint. “I know you’re really busy.”

“Never too busy for you, Glasses. Drinks again tomorrow night?”

“Yup. I’ll see you here at 6:30? If my schedule doesn’t change too much, that is.”

“6:30 is good.”

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