#the preview for this ask was just ‘hi this is important now. please...’ and i got scared jfskjf i thought i did something wrong 😭

[enluv]

the couples quiz <3

PAIRING! bang chan x fem!idol reader

SYNOPSIS! - back with enluv productions, we have our favorite idol couple to take the enluv couples quiz! - this consist of a multitude of questions asked by each of them to test how well they know their partner! enjoy <3

word count: 3,310 (and it’s all fluff 😁)

genre(s): interview styled writing + video layout chic (?) & so much fluff like it’s so cavity inducing you may need to call a dentist 🤭

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, both idols, profanity, nervousness, and I am pretty sure that’s all! (if I missed something lmk!)

coco’s love note: idea is based off the gq couples quiz videos !! please note that our reader is in an oc group I’ve made :)

[ video preview begins now – our idol couple are shown sitting comfortably in two opposing director chairs ]

Y/N: What’s our contact names on each others phones?

Chan: Oh that’s easy I have her as (he makes quotation marks with his fingers) “Y/N L/N” and in parentheses (he cups his hands to express them) “gf”

[the room falls silent as y/n stares shocked at chan]

Y/N: There’s no way…you’re so lying right? (her eyes are widened with shock)

Chan: Of course I am baby! Why would I ever just have you as your name? I have you as “future ms.bahng” (he smiles proudly displaying his contact name for y/n and her contact photo)

Y/N: I almost threw these cards at you for real Christopher! Don’t ever do that again!

Chan: What’s my contact name?

Y/N: Bang Chan dash Stray Kids. (she stares deadpanned at the camera before giggling at his expression)

Y/N: Now you know how it feels! I have you as “my love” it’s a bit simple but I just really love you.

[ end of preview - the screen cuts back to the couple as they first start the video and it begins ]

Y/N: I’m Cupid’s Y/N!

Chan: and I’m Stray Kids Bang Chan!

Y/N & Chan: and we’re taking the enluv couples quiz!

[the couples quiz logo pops up over them to signify the start of the interview – y/n’s questions are first]

Y/N: What’s an item of yours I always seem to steal?

Chan: Oh that’s obvious, she always steals my hoodies. All the colorful ones go to her!

Y/N: Correct! His fans always tell him to wear color but I think I’ve stolen everything with a decent amount of color on it…oops? Sorry stays!

Y/N: What’s something I always bring with me on tour?

Chan: Hmm well there are a few ways to go about this. You could be asking like sentimental items or like necessities.

Y/N: I wrote a list so if the items you guess are on it I’ll give you a point.

Chan: Oh god. (he shakes his head and looks up to show he’s thinking) I would say probably your first aid kit bag. She’s pretty clumsy and needs to have a band-aid on her at all times.

Chan: Oh also probably our son. Oh! I know the most important one is definitely your headphones. You don’t ever leave the house without them.

Y/N: Channie I think you need to elaborate on what our son means (she laughs pointing towards the production team) because they seem worried.

Chan: Oh right. Y/N and I have matching plushies that we won each other on our…hmm I think it was our fifth date? I took her to an arcade and they had claw machines. She got me a psyduck plushie it’s really big and I got her a bunny plush. We call them our sons and usually I’ll take the bunny and she takes psyduck. We care for them equally though! We aren’t absent parents!

Y/N: Okay you were right about all of those, you’re missing one thing though. This one is the most important one.

Chan: Babe…I thought I hit them all seriously…gimme a hint pleaseee….

Y/N: It’s something you gave me.

Chan: I’ve given you a lot of things Y/N.

Y/N: Can I just tell you?

Chan: No! I wanna guess.

[a compilation of chan guessing is played in x2 speed, y/n continues to answer no as he guesses]

Chan: I give up! Tell me.

Y/N: It’s my bracelet! (she laughs softly at his expression)

Chan: Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot about our bracelets!! (he holds up his right hand so the camera can see) We have bond bracelets!

Y/N: When you touch them it sends the other person a small vibration and it means that we’re thinking of or miss the other. They’re really nice since we work a lot and don’t see each other as often as we’d hope.

Chan: I touch mine a lot.

Y/N: Mhm he does, but so do I so I’d never complain.

Y/N: Have I ever written a song about you? And if the answer is yes, which one is my favorite.

Chan: Yeah, plenty of them.

Y/N: Woah okay no need to expose me sir.

Chan: Babe I’m not exposing anything, it’s kinda obvious…

Y/N: Just answer the question Chris.

Chan: “two souls” is your favorite and I know that because you worked on it for almost three months then gave it to me on my birthday.

Y/N: He’s right. That song is my baby, it’s so personal but I just really love it so much. He kept trying to sneak into my laptop to listen to it but I caught him every single time! He cried when he first heard it though so it was worth hiding.

Chan: I thought we promised not to talk about that sweetie.

Y/N: Next question!

Y/N: What was my first concert?

Chan: Oh man. I don’t think I know this one babe.

Y/N: Channie I promise I’ve told you the answer to all of these questions.

Chan: Okay can you tell me how old you were?

Y/N: No.

Chan: Please prettty? I think I’ll get it if I know how old you were!

Y/N: I was sixteen almost seventeen. (y/n sends the camera a wink)

Chan: OH! I’ve so got it then. I know it!

Y/N: Okay who was it then?

Chan: It was Seventeen sunbaenim!

Y/N: Ding ding ding! Correct!

Chan: I always forget how big of a carat you are seriously. She loves them. The kids are friends with them so it’s wild to see her interact with them.

Y/N: I’m good friends with them now, perks of being an idol, they always tease me too.

Chan: Who did you bias?

Y/N: Some secrets should never see the light Channie.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite food?

Chan: It’s Chipotle but you get the most mundane thing ever so you always throw in a side of chips and queso because you’re scared the workers roll their eyes when they see your order.

Y/N: That…what oddly specific…why did you expose me like that omg…embarrassing!

Chan: Babe you recite exactly what I just said every time you order Chipotle, literally word for word I know it by heart now.

Y/N: Feels like he’s attacking me a bit right guys (y/n turns to the cameras as if asking the audience)

Chan: I am not! You have said that to me a million times! It’s seriously engraved in my head.

Y/N: NEXT!

Y/N: What’s my favorite song that you’ve written that’s about me?

Chan: I know the answer but if I say it then fans are going to have a field day on twitter.

Y/N: How would you know? Been on twitter recently Chris?

Chan: (he stares at the camera and winks) I don’t have twitter, you know, idol things and all those logistics.

Y/N: Should we answer the question together?

Chan: Stop cheesing so hard, you did this on purpose didn’t you.

Y/N: Yes I did. Ready? 3…2…1!!!

Chan & Y/N: Red Lights

Y/N: What can I say! It’s a good song.

Chan: Is it my turn yet? I need to seek revenge.

Y/N: NOPE! Still me!

Y/N: How many pets do I have and can you tell me in which order I got them?

Chan: This is terrible because she had pets even before getting with me.

Chan: Okay here it goes. You have three pets, first one is Pickles, he’s a greyhound. Next would be Peanut, he’s a fish and he has a brother named Jelly. They count as one because they’re a pair, and finally we have Kimchi and that’s our gecko, I named him. (he smiles proudly at the camera)

Y/N: Four points! Wow babe good job!

Chan: What kind of dad would I be if I didn’t know our kids names?

Y/N: So true like imagine you forgot one I’d be so mad.

Chan: I know that’s why I got them all right.

Y/N: What’s my dream wedding look like?

Chan: I also know this answer, we talk about it a lot.

Chan: You want a small wedding with the most important people in your life, so like family and friends but also people who have helped you in your career as well. You want a summer wedding and want a pastel creamy green color to be the theme. It’ll be inside but you really liked the forest vibe from Twilight so the inside will be decorated to look like the woods.

Y/N: Okay woah. Do you have access to my Pinterest or something?

Chan: You say that like we don’t talk about getting married all the time. (he smacks his lips playfully at her)

Y/N: I am in love with you, seriously like on god dude.

Chan: Stop saying on god after you tell me you love me, we talked about this!

Y/N: He doesn’t like it because he says it sounds like I’m talking to a brother.

Chan: You sound like my nineteen year old sister!

Y/N: and I love her very much! We went shopping last time we went to visit them.

Chan: and you bought her $800 shoes.

Y/N: What can I say, I love all the bahngs!

Y/N: Last question Chris, let’s see if you get this one right! What was my first impression of you!

Chan: Oh you’re going there? I see how it is. (he fixes himself to sit straight up and looks at the camera) Our fans don’t know this story but Y/N hated me.

Y/N: (laughing to herself and gesturing to the crew again) They look so confused! He made it sound so bad, I just thought he was one of those really weird guys because, so basically we met at an award show and his group, Stray Kids, had been seated next to us.

Chan: We were so close we could touch arms.

Y/N: No truly! And it was funny because his entire group, and if you don’t know, they have eight members in total, all got up and went to the bathroom together. All eight of them! It was hilarious, I’d never seen any group do that!

Chan: We like to stay together. Safety in numbers!

Y/N: They came back after a while and almost missed getting their award. It was just so odd to me at the time but after that we started talking as the show went on and I thought he was super sweet and obviously he cares for his members.

[the couples quiz logo pops onto screen as the video depicts chan at the center, he flashes an excited smile at the camera]

Chan: Is it finally my turn? I’ll be honest I don’t have that many questions…but they’re pretty hard to answer. I don’t know if Y/N will be able to get them right.

Y/N: Don’t antagonize me Christopher! I know everything about you.

Chan: We’ll see about that.

Chan: First question! Before we went on our first date I had originally planned something else but it fell through, what was it and why didn’t we do it?

Y/N: Woah you’re going BACK.

Chan: Mhm, answer the question baby.

Y/N: This is a funny story that not everyone knows actually. Chan loves doing crazy things like he doesn’t do traditional dates ever, it’s always something outrageous that you least expect.

Chan: I want things to be memorable, plus if I have free time I don’t want to spend it sitting around, I want to go out and do things.

Y/N: He originally wanted to take me bungee jumping, (the camera pans to a laughing chan and the staff can be heard gasping) can you believe that! Bungee jumping for a first date!

Chan: It would have been memorable though, right?

Y/N: Yeah definitely. It didn’t happen though because he heard from a mutual friend of ours, Minnie, that I was really scared of heights.

Chan: I canceled the day super quick, the date was in two days and I called and had to cancel but I was honestly grateful I found out because imagine if I hadn’t known and took her to it? Memorable first date but not in a good way!

Y/N: I think maybe now I’d do it, but only if he’s with me because I trust him the most.

Chan: Wait really? Wait we’ll talk about this later, finish the story!

Y/N: Right! He took me swimming instead, it was a indoor private pool place and it was so much fun. He actually taught me how to swim.

Chan: It’s one of my favorite memories because I just knew I’d be asking her to be my girlfriend.

Y/N: Stop I’m going to cry if we get into this again!

Chan: I told her this last time we talked, how I knew she was the one for me our first date. She cried and then called her mom to tell her.

Y/N: My parents love him, maybe more than me to be honest.

Chan: What was the first achievement we got as a group that made me feel like I had made it?

Y/N: This feels like a trick question.

Chan: I promise it’s not.

Y/N: There are two answers because your first win is so memorable that I’d pick that one but you also always say you haven’t made it, because you’re still going, still reaching and setting goals and achievements for yourself.

Chan: You worded that perfectly. She’s right. First win on a music show was huge for us but honestly as a group we have a lot of goals and want to achieve them all, I don’t know if we’re ever going to truly feel like we’ve made it but seeing our fans celebrate our achievements always makes it feel like we’re heading in the right direction.

[the camera shifts and pans to y/n running her thumb on the back of chan’s palm, she whispers something in his ear before they continue]

Chan: What was my favorite sport growing up?

Y/N: Easy! It was swimming and you were really good at it.

Chan: Don’t say that they’re going to believe you.

Y/N: Babe I’ve seen those awards your mom has lining the walls of your house, trust me, you were good.

Chan: My dad owns a swim school so I swam a lot as a kid and naturally went on to compete at meets and stuff. If I wasn’t here doing this, I’d be a swimmer.

Y/N: He’s really good at it, and he taught me how to swim so like he’s a good teacher too.

Chan: I can’t believe I taught you to swim that memory is so engraved in my mind.

Y/N: Mine too! I could not learn for the life of me and then suddenly on my first date with him he taught me. That should tell you how good he is at swimming.

Chan: I don’t know if I’m good now but back then I wasn’t terrible.

Y/N: My boyfriend is so humble!

Chan: What’s one thing that you hate that I do but I love it?

Y/N: Sleeping in the recording room?

Chan: (he lets out a sarcastic laugh) Ha Ha Ha. Close but no.

Y/N: I don’t know, I don’t hate anything you do honestly.

Chan: Want me to tell you?

Y/N: You so want to tell me.

Chan: I do.

Y/N: Tell me.

Chan: It’s when I spend too long in the studio, so long that you have to come get me.

Y/N: You’re so….(she’s cut off by chan’s laughter)

Chan: Let me explain before you blast me in front of everyone!

Y/N: Mmm…go on…

Chan: I know you hate coming to get me but some of my favorite times are when you come because then we spend hours together listening to things I’ve made or messing around and recording things. It’s nice to have you so interested in what I do because I love you and I love music, it’s like my two favorite things are interacting and meeting one another.

Y/N: I hate you so much! You know I’m a sap, I’m going to cry you meanie, that’s so cute what even is this!

Chan: My revenge worked!

[the video cuts to the next clip and the viewer can see that y/n now has a tissue in hand]

Chan: Next question, who gave me advice when we first started getting to know each other and dating?

Y/N: Was it not one of the boys? You said you told binnie first no? So I’d assume him.

Chan: Nope! Guess again.

Y/N: No? Hmm I don’t know…maybe one of your other idol friends?

Chan: It was actually our choreographer.

Y/N: What? Really? Why?

Chan: They saw how stressed I was because I wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend officially and it was making me distracted so they sat me down and made me spill what was bothering me. Funny too because when I told them they told me to just go for it, and I did and then later on they told me they were glad I had because I looked so much happier.

Y/N: Wow this tissue is being used to its fullest today. I am making a mental note to buy them anything they want right now like wow, imagine if they had never told you to just do it. Where would we be?

Chan: Still sneaking around to hang out as “friends” probably.

Chan: Final question, what’s the title of our new collab song coming out?

Y/N: Oh you’re terrible, did you even get permission to reveal this?

Chan: No but I feel like it’ll, a) this will be out by the time we announce it or b) I don’t have a plan B since I’m hoping plan A is successful!

Y/N: Stay please pray for your leader, he’s so going to get us in trouble for this!

Chan: Don’t say that pretty, have some faith in me.

Y/N: Our collab song is called “Here for you,” and it was written and produced by us.

Chan: It’s a love song if you didn’t guess that.

Y/N: I think they got that one babe.

Chan: Making sure they know it!

Interviewer: Can you tell us a little about the song?

Y/N: Well like Chan said, it’s a love song. It’s about finding the right person and immediately knowing they’re the one.

Chan: Immediately knowing they’re your person.

Y/N: We wrote it one night in the studio after fighting, nothing huge but we both had a bad day and it was intense, when you’ve been with someone for a while you have those days you know? He wrote something down to blow off some steam and so did I. We realized that we’d wrote one half of a song each. Then we put it together, fixed it up and made it that night.

Chan: It’s a really special song to us both, that’s why I’m so excited to announce it.

Y/N: We’re really excited to have you all listen to it.

Interviewer: Well thank you both for coming. We appreciate you making some time for us! 

Y/N & Chan: Thanks for having us! (they send a smile to the camera and bow in thanks to the crew)

Y/N: We had a lot of fun today, really thank you.

Chan: Maybe we will come back in like ten years, married, and all that and do it again!

[ the camera zooms out and in fades the couples quiz logo, you can see the couple as they whisper to one another after the director yells “cut” ]

ENLUV EXTRA:

Chan: Why do I love Y/N? That’s a big question to ask, and if I named all the reasons we’d be here for a long time, to put it simply she’s my soulmate, I don’t think there is anyone else in the world more right for me than her. She’s caring, fun, creative, so many more things and it’s like wow, people do exist like her out there and I was lucky enough to find her? She must be my soulmate.

Y/N: Why do I love Chris? Hmm let me think. As a society I know we don’t believe in soulmates, and for a long time I put no thought into them you know? But meeting Chan and being able to experience the love he gives, has honestly changed that for me. I don’t think there is anyone out there more perfect for me than him. I can’t put into words why I love him but I can try to describe it. It’s like when you find a new favorite thing to obsess over, and that becomes something you love so dearly but in the case of me and Chan, it’s that feeling on and on, it never falters and my love for it stays consistent.

[ the video ends with a black screen fading out the image of y/n from frame ]

coco’s <3 note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! I’ve been talking about this fic for almost three months now 😭 and finally it’s done! Hope you all enjoy it as much as I do :) Thank you @odxrilove for being my beta reader for it! I love you wifey 😻🫶🏽 As always, feedback & rbs are always appreciated!

SKZ TAGLIST! - @cherry-bushes @en-fvr @nikis-mum @bloom-bloom-pow @kyublr @enhacolor @fxckingshame @stealanity @haoreo @jxp1t-3r @chaerybae @vatterie @tytrackfebreze @veryjeongintxtkid @haechan-nahceah @mnwrld @queen-klarissa

— Want to be tagged? Check out THIS post!

#🩷: the couples quiz! #kflixnet #k labels #bjnet #stray kids #skz bang chan #bang chan comfort #bang chan drabbles #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fic #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan skz #bang chan stray kids #bang chan soft thoughts #bang chan scenarios #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #chan skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz fanfic #skz x y/n #skz chan x reader #skz chan fluff #skz chan scenarios #skz chan imagines

[wonryllis]

I CAN BE WHATEVER YOU WANT ME TO BE ⭑ LHS.

⭑ ᵎᵎ preview. where heeseung finds himself once again locked in your cages when you drunk call him to pick you up at night. where heeseung has no intentions of escaping the said cages, forever remaining under the spell of your love. LIBY?

wordcount `834 ﹙𝒘? + 𝒄𝓪𝐬𝐭﹚toxic situationship with a down down down bad lee heeseung x kinda naive philophobic fem!reader, age gap, suggestive: mild.

she's crazy but i love her.

heeseung's steps are slow and calculated, eyes glued on your figure trying to make your way to his car. stumbling and wobbly in heels you (kind of) seem accustomed to, feet clicking against the pavement in a hasty stride. he's worried. you were out with friends past midnight on a weekday, called him all drunk to pick you up from the bar and now you are barely able to walk straight, ankle on the verge of twisting at any given moment but you wouldn't let him hold you. he's worried sick.

"angel please just hold onto me hm?" he pleads rushing over when you visibly slip on an uneven part, hands almost gripping around your waist as you manage to keep your balance, staggering back into his arms in a couple of steps.

"you! who are you!" your hands push against his chest as you turn around startled. there it goes, again! heeseung sighs knowing what's to come. it's the third time in the last fifteen minutes, going over this exact conversation word to word.

"it's heeseung, your cousin's friend and your friend," he makes sure to emphasize on 'your friend' trying to stop this before it gets further into the loop.

"where's my cousin?" you ask, looking around the rather empty parking lot.

"he working," heeseung's explanation is dry because he knows you'll cut him off before he can say anything more,"and why are you here?" just like that. he remembers the first time this happened, when you were actually sober and met him at your cousin brother: jay's workplace. you showed up out of nowhere, without any notice and jay was going bonkers at how he'll get you back home when he has the most important client waiting for him in the next room. heeseung hadn't thought much when he offered to drop you off, a favor for a friend that was all it was to him.

"because you called me, angel," but god was he wrong, for he swears the moment he laid his eyes on you he was a goner. you were too darn pretty to be just a favor. you were younger, a party girl always running out to frat and sorority gatherings, bars and clubs. often calling jay to pick you up to avoid letting your parents know of your shenanigans.

"why did i call you and not my cousin?" everytime he had wished it was him and not jay, even though ultimately he was the one who went. carrying your cute drunk ass to your mansion and getting you to your room as discreetly as possible. you are a rich girl, two worlds apart and heeseung has felt it in many ways than not.

"because i'm your cousin's friend and you know me well," heeseung never thought he'd ever be more than just your cousin's friend to you. at least he hopes he is more. you have done things with him that you'd definitely not do with just your cousin's friend. a space curtaining acquaintance and lover, he hangs dangerously cold and heedless.

"so where's my cousin?" between days left ghosted and nights you throw your arms around him he stands unsure of his place in your life. at times he feels you know he's the one who could treat you better than any of the guys you cry for. yet there are moments when there's this sturdy wall you build, holding him away for the sake of not losing him like others. afraid of love is what you refuse you are but heeseung knows your conceptions of it are a little too twisted, broken he dare say. and his love for you is so far and conflicted to the things you have experienced, he understands the lengths and the time it will take for you to recognize and accept him.

"you know what, i'm getting you in the car myself," in an instance his hands grip at the back of knees and the curve of your waist, hauling you up in his arms. he walks quick to his car parked at the far end, smiling through the constant pouty mumbles of yours. eyeing you every two seconds, not being able to resist that pretty face of yours.

it is absolutely not in him to ever resist that pretty face of yours, your pretty eyes and your pretty lips as they graze against his own in gentle brushes. arms looped around his neck and thighs resting on the soft matress of your bed, albeit on each side of his own, yet again. sitting on his lap, so close, bodies pressed. "heeseungie, please stay," your voice a sultry whisper of a whine, a naive vixen, if that's even a thing.

lee heeseung knows he will never have the power to refuse you, he will be whatever you want him to be for how ever long you will want him to be.

you make him crazy and he loves you for that.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles

#BROTHER'S BEST FRIEND EXCEPT IT'S COUSIN'S COWORKER? #enhypen imagines #k-labels #enhypen fluff #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunoo imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jungwon imagines #enhypen niki imagines #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted, Chapter 1: Unarmed, Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: (For this part only) Following the events of CA:CW, Tony Stark has offered Steve Rogers an olive branch of sorts to bring The Avengers back together. You, CTO of Stark Industries and head of Innovation & Technology for the Avengers' Initiative, have your doubts, as you're not quite ready to forgive Captain America for ripping your family apart just yet. Steve had one condition, however, when agreeing to return to the team, one that's going to turn your life upside down and inside out: If he's coming back to join The Avengers, he's bringing his best friend, Bucky Barnes, with him.

Warnings: (For this part only) Language (obviously), minor mention of alcohol, I'm obviously on Team Tony during the CW; don't come for me, awful jokes, minor use of (Y/N). As always, if I missed any, please let me know.

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: Here's a little preview of Unwanted. In it's current form, it's standing at about 50k words, with about 25k still in editing, and I'm maybe about half done with writing the entire thing? I'm not going to lie, it starts out cute and fluffy, but it's gonna get real angsty and painful. Dear Reader has unresolved emotional trauma and Bucky doesn't understand the importance of boundaries in 21st century relationships. This piece has been my baby for several months now; I really hope ya'll enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917

Taglist: (Please let me know if you'd like to be added!) @blackhawkfanatic

"You're sure you're cool with this, Boss?" you asked Tony Stark, for what was probably the ten thousandth time in the last hour. The two of you were sitting by yourselves off in a corner of the common area of the Avengers Tower while the rest of your team congregated around the bar, eagerly anticipating the official return of Captain America to the Avengers. That, by itself, would be enough to warrant a gathering of Earth's mightiest heroes, but what had everyone in attendance talking was the fact that Steve Rogers wouldn't be returning alone.

Your billionaire employer sighed and swirled his glass of Laphroaig, the amber liquid sloshing along the sides of the tumbler. "I don't love it, Pocket, but it was Cap's only condition for coming back into the fold, and since Barton, Wilson, and Maximoff all went off the reservation with him, it seemed a small price to pay to get everyone back under one roof." He took a swig of his whiskey and smacked his lips.

You couldn't help but smile at his use of your nickname. Thor had inadvertently given it to you when you first met the God of Thunder years ago, remarking for everyone to hear that you were so small and tiny, he could tuck you into his pocket and abscond away with you to Asgard. Somehow, it stuck. You'd hated it at first; it had felt dismissive and condescending, which of course meant that it soon became the only thing the members of your team called you, but the more they used in their daily lives, the more you actually came to love it. It was a brand new, unique identity that came to embody the person you’d become, and the past you’d worked so hard to put behind you. You were more likely to answer to 'Pocket,' now, than you were your legal name, and you were grateful for it.

"Besides," Tony continued with a shrug, "if letting the Barnes thing go means we get the band back together, I'm willing to be the bigger person about it."

You stared at him, impressed. "Well look at you. When did you get so emotionally evolved?"

"Since Pepper told me I needed to start seeing a therapist or she’d leave me once and for all," he admitted to you with a cheeky wink; you both knew that, though Tony drove his partner, Pepper Potts, absolutely insane sometimes, she loved him far too much to ever walk away from him for good. That didn’t stop the threats, though. Lord knows he tried her patience. In your opinion, the woman was a saint.

Your eyes widened at the revelation and you let out a low whistle of appreciation. "You're going to therapy? Wow. Tony, That's amazing. I'm proud of you."

"Oh please," Tony scoffed, "I have much more important things to do than sit on a couch and spill my feelings. Besides, my secrets are too valuable to divulge to an actual human being. I just trained FRIDAY on therapeutic conversational datasets so she can handle all that psychological mumbo jumbo and then I paired that with BARF's augmented reality-- it's seriously the platinum standard in mental healthcare. No awkward silences or judgmental stares, just pure efficiency. You should try it; it’d do you wonders. And the best part? No copays."

You chuckled as you took a sip of your pineapple and Malibu. "Yeah, okay. That completely tracks for you," you told him with a smile. "So, what did Dr. FRIDAY tell you that got you to change your mind about the Barnes situation?"

Furrows appeared between Tony's eyebrows as he took another sip of whiskey to buy time for collecting his thoughts. There was still so much pain in him where Bucky Barnes was concerned. You'd worked for him in some capacity for nearly fifteen years and you'd never seen him as defeated as he'd been when he got off that Quinjet from Siberia. He'd been bloodied, battered and utterly broken, body and soul. Seeing him like that had shattered you, and you never wanted to live through something like that again.

Tony ran you through his experience with his therapeutic innovation, and you had to admit, it was impressive. The system had helped him realize that Bucky Barnes wasn't responsible for the heinous crimes Hydra had brainwashed him into completing, and so his anger over the death of his parents, while justified, had been misdirected.

"Once I processed that, it was a quick jump to realizing we can't be the best version of the Avengers if we only have half the team at home, and it's innocent people who would pay the price for it. So, when I reached out to Cap and he agreed to come back if I agreed to let him bring Barnes with him, well..." Tony trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hand toward the where the rest of the team was waiting.

"So, you and Rogers are just, what? Good then? All water under the bridge?" you asked him, mild irritation clouding your voice.

"Oh, absolutely not." Tony took another sip of whiskey. "I can work with him again, and I'm glad to, but we're not going to be braiding each other's hair anytime soon."

"Good," you said, raising your glass in a mock toast to Tony. "I'm not quite ready to forgive him on your behalf just yet." Tony had essentially saved your life when you first met him, and he’d continued to support and guide your career to heights you could have never imagined. You'd started as a systems analyst and mechanical engineer at Stark Industries fresh out of college, and under Tony’s mentorship, it wasn’t long before you found yourself rising to the position of the company’s Chief Technical Officer, second in command only to Pepper, now that Tony had passed on the reins to her. All this happened long before he'd ever brought you in to work with him on the Avengers Initiative, and now you spent the majority of your time heading up their Technology and Innovation Department, as well.

Any kind of healthy respect you might have had for your boss had died out a long, long time ago, because Tony Stark  was Tony Stark, but now he was just Tony-- more like an annoying older brother you loved dearly,  whose name just happened to be on your paychecks. You owed him everything and that had earned him your unwavering loyalty. You'd follow him to hell and back again if he asked it of you, though he knew he’d never have to; you’d be paving the path there right alongside him.

The sound of laughter made its way across to you from the other side of the room and you felt warmth at the sound-- everyone, together again and happy. Just a few short months ago, you never would have been able to imagine the scene before you, not after the fight in Berlin and its brutal aftermath. You had thought for sure that this little family you'd found yourself in the middle of had been destroyed beyond repair.

So, you might have had your own reasons to be pissed at Steve Rogers.

"What's Barnes like?" you asked Tony. Having only ever glimpsed him from a distance, or from behind a computer monitor, you'd utilized all the resources at your disposal to dig up as much information on the Winter Soldier as possible, but even your skills hadn't been able to get you what simply didn't exist. "You know I don't like unknown quantities."

Tony seemed to think for a moment. "You mean, aside from being a brainwashed, murderous assassin?"

"Tony," you chastised. You knew that Barnes had spent a good deal of time in Wakanda before coming home to New York, working on having the words that triggered his homicidal alter-ego neutralized. Rogers may not always acted rationally when it came to making decisions about his oldest friend, but you were sure he wouldn’t be bringing Barnes back to the Tower if he posed a serious danger to the rest of you. Right?

"Fine," Tony said, with a typical exaggerated sigh. "Aside from being a former brainwashed, murderous assassin; better?" You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Don't really know, didn't care enough to ask. I'll be happy as long as he doesn't start murdering us all in our sleep. Cap vouches for him, so that counts for something. Maybe not as much as it did once upon a time, but something. But T’Challa seems to think he’s harmless enough now, so that’s good enough for me."

You nodded, taking another sip of your pineapple and Malibu, then leaned back, pensive. "Oh, God," you said after a moment of thought, sitting up in alarm. "You don't think it’s going to be like having an entire extra Rogers around, do you? All '40s morality and emotional repression? Because I am so over having him police my language." It wasn't that you had anything against Captain America as an Avenger, but there was only so much of the Boy Scout act you could take before you started getting nauseous. And okay, fine, you weren't too proud to admit it-- there was a not-so-small part of you that still hadn't forgiven him for what you saw as his blatant betrayal of Tony when he refused to sign the Accords. You'd promised to play nice, though, for the sake of your family, but your personal relationship with The Star-Spangled Man had taken heavy damage since Berlin.

Tony chuckled. "As if you'd ever let Cap's presence keep you from a good profanity. I should put out a swear jar. We could fund that crisis algorithm project of yours off your mouth alone."

"Fuck you, Tony," you uttered with a chuckle, fully aware that he had your number. You never met a four-letter word you didn’t fall immediately in love with.

"And look at that," Tony said with a smirk, "I just made another dollar. Hey FRIDAY, open up a new savings account and deposit a dollar into every time Pocket has a potty mouth."

"On it, Boss," the AI replied cheerfully.

You swore at Tony a few more times for good measure. "I fully intend to financially bleed you dry now, asshole."

"Oh no, I'm shaking in my custom Tom Ford's," Tony mockingly bemoaned, putting his feet, enclosed in the aforementioned ridiculously expensive loafers, up on the coffee table.

Raised voices from the other side of the room caught your attention. You stood up and craned your neck, trying to see what had caused the commotion. "I think they're here, Boss," you said.

"Alright," Tony said, standing up and putting an arm around your shoulder, "big smiles, kiddo. Remember, we're supposed to be happy about this." You suppressed a chuckle as you watched Rogers present Bucky Barnes to the rest of the team. Everyone was welcoming; you wouldn’t have expected any less, but as you watched their body language, the only word that came to mind was guarded. And you completely understood; The Winter Soldier’s reputation had preceded him, after all. There were hugs for Rogers, of course, but no one made any attempt to reach out to his friend.

Despite your overall annoyance with Rogers, you couldn't help but feel some degree of happiness for the giant oaf. When you'd been assigned on a mission with him (which happened fairly frequently, as he was so pathetically abysmal with anything having to do with technology) and ended up having to hole up in a safehouse for an extra couple of days while waiting for extraction, he'd started opening up to you about James Buchanan Barnes, and the reminiscing had made him so happy, you encouraged Steve to tell you everything about this Bucky. After that, the trouble was getting Rogers to stop telling his Bucky stories. If he wasn't sharing tales about growing up with his best friend during the Great Depression and all the absolute mischief they got into, he was sharing war stories of their time together with the Howling Commandos. He'd even shared his grief with you– how painful it had been to watch Barnes fall from that train and the guilt he carried for not being able to save him. He’d confessed to you once that, when he went into the ice, fully prepared to die, there was a part of him that was relieved to be reunited with Barnes in the next life, and waking up some 70 years later to a world where he was still alive but Bucky was still gone had broken his heart all over again. And yet, here they were– together in the next life, after all. If you were a different kind of person, you’d say it was a goddamn miracle. 

Because of the way Rogers described his best friend in those old stories, you were expecting Bucky Barnes to come swaggering along next to him, with a cocksure tilt to his head and a panty-dropping smirk playing along his lips, but the man who accompanied Steve was the furthest thing from that.

He shuffled behind Rogers slowly, looking at the floor and avoiding making eye contact with anyone else from the team. His hair hung long and limp, curtaining off his face as though it were a protective barrier. Though, if it was keeping him away from everyone else, or everyone else away from him, you couldn't be sure. He was much thinner than you'd anticipated, especially for a super soldier– though still extremely muscular, giving you the impression that it had been a long time since he'd let himself indulge in anything more than the bare minimum amount of calories he needed for survival. Tilting your head, you tried to steal a glance at his infamous metal arm, the thing of legends that had turned him from a run-of-the-mill assassin into the stuff of waking nightmares.

But the sleeve of his jacket hung limp, only empty space where the appendage should have been.

Curious. He'd come to Tony Stark's home unarmed. Your hand flew to your mouth to try and stop the uncontrollable snicker that broke loose at your own stupid joke. Tony elbowed you gently in the ribs to shut you up, and you hoped you were too far away and the others too distracted by Steve's introductions to notice you, but that thought flew right out the window when Bucky Barnes' head snapped up at the sound, his eyes locking onto yours from across the room.

"Holy shit," you breathed, knowing another dollar would go into Tony's digital swear jar, but damn if the man didn't have the most striking blue eyes you had ever seen. There were dark circles under them, and he looked incredibly tired, yeah, but they were beautiful. You didn't mean to stare, but you found you couldn't look away, either, and so the two of you were locked into some sort of impromptu staring contest. The longer you looked at him, the more you could sense an overwhelming sadness coming from him, as well as a level of wariness at being in a room full of strangers. It was almost overwhelming.

But then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell was broken. Blinking once, Bucky looked away and you felt the tension vanish from between you.

"What was that about?" Tony asked you in a low singsong voice.

"I have no idea," you answered, honestly. There had been so much pain and loneliness in his eyes. You'd seen eyes like that before, when you were younger and looked at your own reflection in the mirror following a scalding shower with your skin scrubbed raw and bloody. You suppressed a shiver.

Finally, Steve managed to disengage himself and Bucky from the other Avengers and began making his way toward you and Tony. Up close, you were struck by how tall Bucky was. He had to be at least a foot taller than you, if not more. And God, he was handsome. Granted, in a kind of heroin-chic sort of way, but still. A couple of good nights' sleep, a few good meals, some light personal grooming, and... well, there was a very good chance you were going to be in trouble once he got his shit together, that was for sure.

"And Buck," Steve was saying, drawing you out of your ogling, "This is our resident computer genius, Pocket (Y/L/N). You ever need help with anything technology-related, she's your girl."

"A bit of an over-simplified version, Rogers," you said, sticking your hand out to shake Bucky’s, "but yeah, that about covers it."

Bucky looked at you, then down at your hand, making no move to take it.

"What the hell kind of name is Pocket?" he asked, voice rough as though he hadn’t been using it a lot. Pulling your hand back, you shot him an annoyed glare.

"I don't know," you oozed back sarcastically. "What the hell kind of name is Bucky?"

"It's his nickname, Pocket," Steve supplied helpfully, though not without a trace of confusion. You gave him an annoyed, pointed look.

"No shit, Rogers." You turned back to Bucky and spoke slowly, as if to a child. "So, what do you think Pocket is, then?"

"Oh," said Bucky, catching on. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Gotcha; m'sorry about that. My manners are rusty from a severe lack of use."

You didn't mean it, but your mouth curved up into a hint of a smile, too. And then, almost as if you couldn't stop yourself from doing it, you found yourself saying "I see you've arrived unarmed."

There was a long, heavy beat of silence as Steve and Tony stared at you, mouths slightly agape, and you wondered if you'd made a critical error. You were just about to punch yourself in the face and claim you had a concussion and therefore couldn't be held responsible for what you said when Bucky burst into laughter.

It was the most beautiful sound you'd ever heard, and it was contagious. Through your own laughter, you risked a glance up at Steve. He was looking back and forth between you and Bucky, an indiscernible look in his eyes, and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since he'd heard his best friend laugh. Hell, you wondered how long it had been since Bucky Barnes had laughed at all.

"Pocket," Tony groaned, palming his face, "that was truly terrible, even for you."

"I'm sorry," you said, trying to catch your breath through your burst of giggles. "It just slipped out-- I couldn’t help it. You know once these things come into my head, they just bounce around in there until they fall out. I didn't mean it."

Steve smiled at you. "So that's what you were snickering at," he said, amused. Damn that enhanced super soldier hearing. Rogers didn't need to be so nosy with it.

You shrugged. "What can I say? Bad jokes are my superpower. Don't be jealous that all you got was super strength and a six pack, Rogers."

Bucky laughed again, then nudged Steve playfully with his elbow. "I like this one, Stevie," he said. "She's funny."

You weren't sure why, exactly, but something in Bucky's words turned your insides into a warm puddle of goo.

Oh, you were going to be in trouble, indeed.

Next Part ->

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #mcu bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n

[tbyfandoms]

Flowers | Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: austin butler x f!reader

Word Count: 3k

Summary: after making a quick run to the store, austin comes home with a surprise for his favorite girl in the world (requested)

Warnings: none

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: I swear it takes the bare minimum for me to go off in delulu land and create a whole scenario of some cute domestic ish about one of my faves lmao! thank you to the anon who requested I write this, you truly fed into my fantasies and I appreciate the excitement. I know it’s been a while since I’ve uploaded a fic so I figured I’d finally try to sit down and write something quick and get it out for the last day of austin’s birth month! I hope you guys enjoy sentimental aus and the dash of horndoginess I threw in there. after finding out about a certain *ehem* tidbit, I saw an opportunity to include the fact austin is an ass man-ANYWAYS! as always lmk what you think! <3

also important side-note! for right now I think I am going to hold off on accepting any new requests for a while. I have quite a few backed up in my ask box that I really wanna get out for the people who sent them in and are patiently waiting! I can’t stop ya’ll from sending things in, but please know that at the moment the requests I have on my currently writing page are my current priorities and it might be a while until I get to yours!

“God, there’s literally nothing on,” you grumble after skipping past yet another movie preview on Netflix.

It’s both yours and Austin’s first off day together in such a long time and all you want to do is cuddle and watch a good film, but it’s like nothing is catching your attention, and at this point you kinda just want to rewatch a comfort film and call it a day. You doubt Austin will put up much of a fight.

The blonde did leave you in charge of finding something to watch while he went off to gather snacks, so he can’t complain too much if you two end up watching a movie you’ve both seen a hundred times, right?

While an idea starts to form in your mind and you quickly scroll to the search bar, soft footsteps from the kitchen make their way to you.

“Baby, I’m headin’ out the store really quick, I just need to pick up a few things before we get started. D’you need anything?”

Your boyfriend’s voice immediately takes your attention away from the black and red screen you’ve been staring at for the past ten minutes. Needless to say the interruption and new view is much appreciated. You swear to yourself that Austin could walk out of a place wearing just a trash bag and he’d still be the most beautiful man you’ve ever laid eyes on.

He looks so soft and cuddly in his cotton shirt and track pants that it makes you sad at the idea you’ll have to wait even longer now to wrap yourself in his arms.

“Did we eat all the snacks again already? I swear neither one of us is home enough to go through food that quickly and yet somehow we always do,” you say as you shake your head lightly.

Austin’s soft chuckle drifts through the air. “It blows my mind too, sweetheart.” The actor moves closer to the front door and begins to put his shoes on—grey and black Adidas with the white stripes, his latest favorites. “I mean we have stuff but I wanna get you some of those candies you like to have when we go to the movies, I figured we could really make it our own little film experience, y’know?”

You scrunch your nose in fondness at the sentiment and get up off the couch to meet your boyfriend at the door. He grabs one of his many baseball caps and settles it atop his blonde waves. You notice how thick Austin’s hair is getting, the hat sliding snuggly over his head.

“Awh, Aus, I’d love that, that sounds amazing,” you grin, stepping forward and wrapping your arms around his neck. “Now, tell me, how would you feel about me picking a certain favorite Gosling film for our movie?”

You grin cheekily at Austin, seeing the flicker of realization in his eyes as he understands exactly which film you’re referencing. Between the two of you, there really is no other Ryan Gosling film it could be besides—you guessed it—The Notebook.

“You’re really gonna make me cry on my day off?” The blonde teases and you roll your eyes jokingly in response. After you and Austin started dating, it didn’t take long for the two of you to go in depth about your favorite films—I mean, it was only fitting—and it was only then did you discover his love for The Notebook. Although written off as a typical, cheesy romance film, it’s so much more than that and Austin was one of the only people to see it as such. The both of you talked for ages about it and no matter how dumb it sounds, that conversation—among many other things—convinced you wholeheartedly that Austin was the man of your dreams. It’s been years since your relationship with Austin started and that film is still one of you forever favorites. You and Austin make sure to rewatch it together at least once a year, tears and choked back sobs included.

“C’mon, baby, you know you want to! It’s about time for our rewatch anyways! I’ll be there the whole time to console you during all the sad parts, and then you’ll be there to console me right after that! I’ll even bring the tissues,” you laugh.

Austin shakes his head and because of your closeness to him you can feel his chest rumble as he laughs along with you. It’s an odd thing to find comfort it and yet you do.

“Fine but only because I love that film—and you—so much. I mean crying in my girl’s arms over a Gosling movie sounds like a day well spent to me anyways.”

The blonde inches closer and rubs his nose against yours, grinning broadly at your giggles that ensue. He swears if he could bottle up that sound and keep it forever, he would.

“Alright, I’m goin’,” Austin says as he steps back and begins to open the door. “You didn’t answer earlier, did you need anything from the store?”

Shaking your head, you respond, “Nope. All I need is for you to come home to me as soon as possible so I can wrap myself in your arms and cry over Noah and Allie with you.”

You’re met with that thousand watt smile again and you can’t help but to return it. “I promise I’ll hurry back, I wouldn’t miss that for the world.”

Before Austin steps fully out the door, he stops and turns back towards you, reaching out his hand to cup your cheek and connect his lips with yours.

The kiss is soft and sweet and the second Austin pulls away you want more than anything for him to kiss you again.

“I love you,” he says before sneaking in another quick kiss, this time on your cheek, and then proceeding out the front door.

The lock clicks into place and as you stand there in the hall, the only audible sound being Austin’s car pulling out of the driveway, you sigh and reach your fingers up towards your lips. It doesn’t matter how long you and Austin have been dating, the whimsical and electric state he leaves you in after each time he kisses you will never, ever get old.

*****

It’s probably only been about fifteen to twenty minutes since Austin left when you hear keys jangling in the door knob.

You figured it wouldn’t take him long considering the store you always go to is right down the street, but the time apart was still long enough for you, so you leap off the couch and hurry to meet your boyfriend as he walks through the front door.

Instantly you notice the small plastic bag Austin’s holding in his hand that he used to open the door. You can already see the wrappings of all your favorite treats peaking through the top and that alone gets you excited. So excited, in fact, that you don’t even notice the way Austin’s holding his other hand behind his back.

The blonde holds out the plastic bag towards you and you squeal in excitement as you begin to dig around in it. “Ah, no way! They actually had them this time!? When I went last they were sold out.” As you grab at one of your favorite snacks, you watch as Austin angles himself awkwardly to try and close the door. It’s like he doesn’t want to turn his back towards you and it’s at this time that you notice he’s holding something out of your line of sight.

“Austin what are you doing?” You giggle, quirking your eyebrow at the way he stands there with a mischievous, yet fond smile on his face. You hear a distinct crinkling sound and you know it’s not from your own bag. “What d’you got there?”

“After I grabbed all our snacks and was headin’ up to the register, I passed a display and saw these.” Your boyfriend brings the hidden object from behind his back and you gasp at the sight of it. “They reminded me of you so I got ‘em for you. Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

Austin hands you the bouquet and your eyes instantly well with tears. They’re the most stunning blush colored roses you’ve ever seen and they smell absolutely incredible. There’s a small card sticking out of the side of them and as you read the words written in Austin’s handwriting, your heart swells with adoration.

For my favorite girl

Love, Austin

“Aus,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to withstand anything else. “They’re beautiful. Thank you so much. You didn’t have to do that.”

The actor can tell how emotional you are right now, can tell how much this means to you. He’d do anything to let you know how much you mean to him, to let you know how much he loves you. He’d buy you flowers every single day if it meant he’d get to see that look on your face. That look where your eyes get real big and sparkly and your smile is so wide it makes your eyelids crinkle at the corners. That look that makes Austin want to give you the world.

Careful not to smash the bouquet held delicately in your hands (the bag of snacks now laying on the floor), Austin reaches out and hugs you with one arm, planting a soft kiss on the side of your head. “I know I didn’t have to, sweetheart, but I wanted to. I love you so much and you deserve to be appreciated.”

With the right words to say completely escaping you, you do the next best thing and instantly close the gap between you and the man standing in front of you. One of Austin’s hands finds its place on your lower back, pushing you closer to him, and your own hand without the bouquet in it finds its way to the nape of his neck—fingers twisting in those thick waves you took notice of earlier.

“I love you so much more, Austin Butler,” you breathe out as you break apart from your boyfriend’s soft lips.

“Mmm, whatever you say, baby,” he mumbles against your mouth as he goes in for yet another kiss. You nearly drop your flowers as you get caught up in Austin again, so you break apart before you can do any real damage to them.

“As much as I’m enjoying this right now, I need it to stop for like five seconds before I completely lose myself in you and ruin this gorgeous bouquet,” you giggle, before reluctantly taking a step back from your boyfriend in order to go find a vase in the kitchen to set the flowers in.

“Would that really be such a bad thing?” Austin calls after you. It doesn’t take long for him to meet up with you in the kitchen, his tall figure leaning casually against the doorframe. “I think having rose petals all over the floor would actually be quite romantic. It’d really…set the mood.”

In between spreading out the roses in the vase you found, you glance up at Austin and can see the way his eyes have clouded over just slightly. His intent and emphasis on the last few words of his sentence become abundantly clear, and you try to fight the heat you feel rising up your neck.

Making your way around the kitchen island, you stop in front of your boyfriend and lean lightly into his chest, your hands basking in the warmth radiating through Austin’s white shirt. “You do realize it is your birthday month, right, Aus? Why am I the one getting all the special treatment?”

There’s a soft smirk playing on your lips and you revel in the way Austin tilts his head to the side, his own smirk quirking up at the corner of his mouth. “Who’s to say I’m not getting my own type of special treatment? Looking after my girl and seeing her happy sounds like a pretty nice birthday gift to me.”

Burying your face in Austin’s chest, you barely contain the squeal threatening to spill out of you over the actor’s words. This man somehow always knows the right thing to say to make you melt. “You’re such a heartthrob you know that?”

“I am a man of many talents,” Austin beams. The two of you laugh and you push lightly on his chest to get him to move back towards the living room.

“C’mon, think of the snacks waiting for us! I won’t let your incredibly smooth sweet talking make us miss out on our plan for an at home film experience!” No matter how tempting, you think.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I am thinking about my snack. Mine just isn’t in that little bag you got there.” As you bend down to pick up the plastic bag you haphazardly threw to the side at the reveal of your surprise flowers, Austin comes up behind you and lightly smacks your ass, causing you to let out a sharp gasp.

Jolting upright, you fake annoyance and watch as your boyfriend turns towards you and holds up his hands in innocence. You reach into the bag and throw one of the packets of candy at him. The blonde winks at you as he catches it with ease and then plops down on the couch.

“You’re right though, I did say I wouldn’t miss this for the world, and I am also a man of my word. So c’mon, Ryan’s waiting for us,” Austin grins as he pats the spot next to him on the couch.

Unable to keep up your feigned irritation, you let the smile that’s twitching at the corner of your lips break through as you hurry over to Austin. No matter what happens, you’d never turn down an open invitation from the man you love with all your heart.

Cuddling up to Austin’s side you sigh in the satisfaction of finally getting to relax with him. Sure you two are able to see each other relatively often considering the fact you live together, but it’s rare when you get to just sit together and do absolutely nothing besides enjoy each other’s company. No cameras, no expectations, just you and him.

If anyone were to ask you, you’d say that’s what you’d call pure heaven.

As Austin presses play on the movie and the opening credits begin to roll, you watch as he rips open the bag of candy you threw at him. You take in how he eats one and then sets it aside, beginning to set up the rest of the treats he purchased for you. The reality of it all settles in as it does every so often and you feel a tiny squeeze in your chest as you take it in.

Having someone love you so deeply, having someone who knows practically every part of you from your favorite types of candy to what flowers you would like, having someone who sees your happiness as enough satisfaction for them and truly mean it, is just incredibly unbelievable.

You wonder practically every day how in the world you were lucky enough to find someone like that. To find someone who you love wholeheartedly and who loves you just the same, if not more. The material things—the flowers, the candy—are nice, but nothing beats the feeling you get when you’re with Austin, and you thank your lucky stars that the universe brought him to you. You truly don’t know where you’d be, who you’d be, without him.

“Austin,” you start, looking into his clear blue eyes as he turns towards you, a soft smile already adorning his lips as he catches sight of you. “Thank you for…”

You can’t even begin to think of where to start. You’re sat here looking at this man that’s staring at you with such a fond, loving expression and it’s like words won’t even dare try to form in your mind in a way that would express everything you feel for him. There aren’t enough of them, there aren’t any right ones.

“For what, sweetheart?” Austin whispers as he reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear, the warmth from his fingertips leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“For the…flowers,” you say before letting out an airy laugh. “For the candy, for staying in with me and letting me coerce you into watching this movie for the thousandth time, for just being you, and a million other things I don’t think I’ll ever have the right words to express.”

“You don’t have to thank me for any of that, my love, but you’re welcome anyways. I do it all because I want to, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you just like I know there isn’t anything you wouldn’t do for me. I hope you know how much I appreciate you. I love you.” Austin leans down and plants a kiss on your forehead before pulling you even closer to his side, wanting nothing but to have you wrapped in his arms.

As your boyfriend turns his attention back to the movie and begins to rub his hand soothingly up and down your back, you feel a sense of content wash over you. When you’re with Austin, it feels like no matter what happens, as long as you have each other, everything will be okay. Nothing is certain, but you’d bet everything you’ve got that this love is.

“I love you too, Aus.”

#austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler x you #austin butler imagine #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fic #austin butler fluff #austin butler #requested

[ctrlsht]

Seat of Power | jungkook political au teaser

pairing: ceo!jungkook x reader genre: political & yandere au

summary: in the world full of power and greed, there are people who seek freedom and peace. While the two rival families are fighting for different purposes, it's their son and daughter fighting for what they desire. You already buried the memories that happened that night while he already tattooed it on his mind. You've forgotten them while he's doing everything in his power to make it happen again.

content & general warnings: political rivalry, mentions of drugs, mention of corruption, death, cheating, stalking, yandere, abduction, drugging, traumatic injury, depression 

date of release: April 2023

Preview:

“Do you know how you were so different right now from the last time I saw you?” Your face immediately turned red when he asked that. You looked away and he leaned to get close to you. You obviously didn’t anticipate that and he was enjoying it. He loves every reaction you make.

For Jungkook, it is the night that will forever linger in his mind, but for you, it is the night that you wish it never happened.

“D-do you have something important to say because I still have work to do, if you d-don’t mind.” You respond still stuttering.

“But I mind, Y/N. And the thing that I am going to discuss with you right now is much more important than the work that you were about to do.” With how he spoke, he sounded so professional but in reality, it was full of shits. You thought.

“I wanted to ask, why didn’t you wake me up before you left the next day?” You really can’t take this conversation so you stand up and prepare to leave.

“Sir, I’m sorry but I really have to leave.” You said and you turned around but before you walked away, he spoke.

“Why don’t you want to talk about it, Y/N? Is it because you don’t want to admit that you also enjoyed it or is it because of your boyfriend?” Your body froze.

How did he know about Joon? He doesn’t even know who you are not after that night.

Or that’s what you thought. You’re a daughter of their rival.

You faced him once again while you were trying to hold your tears. “Please, I know what I did was wrong and I am asking for your forgiveness.” You speak in a low voice.

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s nothing to forgive about. In fact, I have so much fun and if you would give me a chance, I’d love to do it again.” Jungkook sounds so sweet and he also sounds like what he said isn't wrong.

The day after it happened, he wished that you stayed until he wakes up or he woke up first before you did. He always touched the bottom of his lips as he remembered what happened that night. That thought alone turned him on. He remembers vividly the taste of you and how you moaned his name while he fucks your cunt. He remembers the texture of your skin and how soft they are.

“It was a mistake and I regret that it happened. I’m so sorry Jungkook. It wasn't supposed to happen.” Jungkook’s delightful mood slowly turned into bitterness. He doesn’t like what you said and he wanted you to take it back.

“But it happened already, Y/N. Ever since it happened, you cannot leave my mind and I can remember exactly how you feel that night.” he was dead serious as he spoke. Very different from the bubbly Jungkook just a while ago. He stood up and slowly walked towards you. You wanted to walk away but it seems like your feet are glued on the ground. He caressed your right cheeks and wiped away the tears that fell. You didn’t even notice that you were tearing already. He looked at your eyes with so much intensity and before you knew it, he closed the distance of the both of you. It took you seconds to realize it before you pushed him away and your palms met his cheeks. You were stunned to speak and he didn’t even move after you slapped him. Before something happens again, you immediately storm out of his office and you leave him dumbedfound.

#jungkook au #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook yandere #yandere bts #btsfanfic #bts scenarios #yandere jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts au #seat of power

[missmaywemeetagain]

Got a Lotta Lovin' to Do (A Scarf Universe Story) ❤️‍🔥

Okay, sooooo...this just came to me in a strange fit of inspiration this week. It's naughty but also a little sweet in concept. It may not be for everyone, so let's say it's currently canon adjacent for the Pink Scarf Universe...

This takes place a few months post A Pink Scarf Thanksgiving, in February of 1978. Yes, I know, we make it to '78 and there is something both heart wrenching but also wonderful in that, isn't there?

I wanted something that felt real but also a bit indulgent, and also wanted to bring our spitfire Sandy back into play. In fact, I made it from Sandy's perspective, which was a bit challenging considering the use of second person, but hopefully it makes sense!!

Premise is that Reader is in a fix, desperate to coax a very nervous Elvis back into her bed, and enlists her best friend Sandy to help in an unorthodox way. 

Anyway, I'm a bit nervous about this one 😬 and am just sort of testing the waters as a preview, so let me know if you like it and want me to continue it! (Also, the turnaround was fast, so please excuse the semi-rough edit/revision! 🙏🏼)

xoxoxox, Madi 💗

(listen, I know this pic is much earlier than '78, but the vibe is right and the hint of silver at his roots seems applicable and has me in a chokehold, so bear with me here...)

TW: sexy smutty stuff, heading towards a threesome (mff/fmf), mention of medical issues/trauma, sassy Sandy, silver fox Elvis!!🦊

Got a Lotta Lovin’ to Do

February 1978

“Darlin’, you sayin’ what I think you’re sayin’?” he asks you. Elvis’ eyebrow is halfway to his hairline and he sounds more incredulous than hopeful, but Sandy can see the twinkle in his eyes when they slide over to her. It’s more than a cursory glance, one filled with questions and a latent heat. She wrestles with the urge to fidget under his gaze, clenching and unclenching her fists instead of looking away from his scrutiny.

She’s certainly never been one to back down from a fight, not even with the enigma that is Elvis Presley.

Especially not with him, she thinks.

But Elvis has never looked at her like this before and even knowing him as long as she has, she isn’t unaffected. Despite everything he’s been through this past year, he still has the ability to level a woman with a look, she’ll give him that.

His eyes slide back over to you, and Sandy can breathe again. It’s gonna be a long night, she thinks, if a mere glance has her feeling so exposed.

You nod, biting your lip, and she knows how nervous you are, how desperate you are for this to work. She grabs your hand in solidarity and you squeeze it in return.

If it were anyone but you, she wouldn’t have agreed to this. It is much too messy, but extraordinary people and circumstances call for extraordinary measures, and being in Elvis’ world has always meant living in shades of gray.

Sandy knows she’s the only one you’ll trust with this. For as much shit as she gives Elvis, she loves and cares about you both deeply, more than she might voice in mixed company. And you know she understands why this is so important.

Now the two of you just need to convince Elvis of it, too. Though by the increasing level of tension in the room and the way he adjusts himself in his seat, Sandy doesn’t think it’ll take much persuading.

He cuts quite the figure, sitting there in the plush, golden, velvet chair with his bejeweled fingers tapping a slow and steady rhythm out on the arms. After what happened last summer, he’d finally let his hair grow out to its natural color, the salt-and-pepper combined with glinting silvery streaks. It’s incredibly striking, giving him an even more handsome and regal air than before, if that’s possible. With his new post-recovery regime, he is looking good and, according to you, feeling healthier than he had in years. The result is attractive, to say the least.

But while that side of things improved, the sexual piece apparently has not.

Sandy and you perch on the edge of the bed, sitting so close you are pressed against each other, facing him, waiting for his verdict. Elvis takes in the two of you closely before sliding his eyes back over to her.

“And you, Sandra? You agreed to this?” His voice is laden with curiosity and surprise. She doesn’t blame him.

“Yes, with conditions,” she says, willing her voice to stay steady and calm when she’s feeling anything but.

He chuckles darkly. “Of course. I’d expect nothin’ less from you, honey.”

The endearment, one he’s used with her a million times over the years, now comes out laden and warm, sliding through her veins like liquid heat. She’s not sure how she feels about it, to be honest, but it’s a little late to turn back now.

Sandy looks at you for permission to continue. You nod.

“Okay, first, this is a one-time deal,” she begins, forcing herself to look him straight in those endlessly blue eyes.

His lips curve up with the beginning of a smirk and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s thinking. She thinks it’s funny how he’s posturing, considering the whole reason she is here is to help bolster his confidence, but she supposes over twenty years of adoration from females makes his response a habit.

Honestly, it’s the stipulation she’s the least worried about, it being there more for your sake than hers, and it gives you all an out if this goes south. But boundaries are good for Elvis. So she quirks a brow back at him until he nods.

“Second, no one hears about this. It’s a nonstarter. No bragging to the guys, ever. No one outside this room can ever know…especially not Jerry.”

This is the one she is most worried about. While her marriage to Jerry ended over half a decade ago, on relatively decent terms considering the circumstances, she knows this would cut Jer to the core, and that is not why she’s here. Jerry isn’t in Elvis’ employ anymore, but they are still good friends, brothers even, and she doesn’t want to ruin their relationship.

A cloud of seriousness falls over Elvis’ face, banishing his earlier mirth, and that lets her know they are on the same page with this one, despite his terrible track record of secret keeping. “Done,” he says with finality.

“Good. Third, I reserve the right to bow out at any time,” she adds.

“Honey, I’d never force you to do somethin’ you din’t want to do. Ain’t never been like that and ain’t startin’ now,” he says with surprising gentleness.

She nods, expecting as much. Taking a deep breath, she pauses before the last request, mainly because she can’t believe she’s actually saying it out loud. Might as well just get it done.

“Finally, your dick stays out of my pussy.”

He chuckles at your frankness while you choke, coughing wildly—she hadn’t warned you about this one. It’s more the principle of the thing, really. She is along for the ride, sure, but in the end, she’s mostly here for your wellbeing. And by the way he looks at Sandy with something akin to respect and nods as she rubs his wife’s back, she knows he understands.

You eventually recover from Sandy’s bluntness, turning your attention back to your husband with a hopeful look in your eyes. “So, is this…I mean…do you want to do this, baby?”

For the first time, you see his trepidation, his overwhelm of the situation only barely covered by his mask of humor. This is what you’d been talking about, this reluctance and lack of self-assurance. When you’d come to her about the fact that Elvis hadn’t been intimate with you since the medical crisis that nearly killed him, it made perfect sense. Not only had he gone through something terrifying, but his surgeries also changed his body in ways that must have been uncomfortable. Coupled with extensive recovery and weaning off old medications and starting new ones, it was a recipe for disaster in the bedroom.

Sandy knew you had to be desperate for you to ask her for this kind of help. You knew it wasn’t because Elvis found you unattractive or didn’t love you anymore—he was afraid he couldn’t perform, afraid he couldn’t satisfy you, and you were afraid you’d hurt him somehow. It was obvious your sex life had been amazing in the past, though according to you, it had dwindled the sicker and more in denial about things he’d gotten. But for you to invite her into the bedroom to put the spark back in their marriage wasn’t something Sandy had expected.

Apparently, Elvis loved some girl-on-girl threesome action and had indulged in such things back before you and he had finally gotten together. You were never entirely comfortable with the idea when Elvis brought it up in the past—the idea of sharing him didn’t sit well and knowing Elvis, he’d make some poor woman fall in love with him or someone would talk and you’d be in a fix, so the idea had been nixed before it could take root.

But now you were frantic and willing to try almost anything, which apparently included asking your best friend to fool around with you and your husband.

It’s a matter of trust, you’d said, twiddling your fingers uncomfortably in Sandy’s kitchen, tears pooled in your eyes. You knew she’d never talk, knew she’d never betray you, and most importantly, knew she could separate sex from emotion and would never fall in love with your husband.

It was all true. How could she say no to you when you needed her help so badly? So, here she was, apprehensive but intrigued, waiting for Elvis to decide all of your fates.

“You can just watch, baby, if you want to, or whatever, it’s fine,” you encourage him when he seems frozen and unable to respond. Sandy can see you both floundering in indecision and fear and can’t stand it anymore. She’s never been one for patience or inaction, after all, so without further ado, she silences your pleas for your husband’s attention with her lips.

“Oh!” you exclaim in quiet surprise against her mouth, your hands flailing a bit in resistance.

Talking about something like this and doing it are two different things, Sandy knows, but she persists, kissing you gently, hands cupping your cheeks, until you relax enough to kiss her back. She can’t help but feel a little gratification when you sigh softly and yield to her, your hands flitting to the curve of her hips.

It would be stupid to say she didn’t find both you and Elvis attractive, but never in her wildest dreams had it been in the cards to have either of you, so she’d never dwelled much on it. But now, feeling the weight of his gaze as she laps her tongue between your lips, testing your willingness to do this, her body lights on fire.

She pushes through the foreign feeling of being watched so intimately, knowing this is just as much about putting on a good show than anything else, but she didn’t expect it to be quite so tantalizing. Something about being the one to take charge sends a thrill down her spine. Dragging her lips down your neck to your collarbone, she knows she’s not imagining the rapid fluttering of your pulse under her lips or the way you lean back to give her more access.

You’ve never been with a woman, but she knows it’s been a long time since you’ve had attention of this sort from your man, either so when Sandy trails her fingers down over your breast, she feels the jolt go through you. Her moves are deliberate but slow, allowing you to acclimate, allowing Elvis to take in every movement.

She can’t help the warmth pooling in her belly when she palms the heaviness of your breast, pinching your clothed nipple and you gasp, arching into her with genuine willingness.

“Lord have mercy,” Elvis huffs quietly, and you both know you have him.

It’s much too easy, then, to unbutton your blouse, exposing the white lace bra underneath before pulling hers up over her head to reveal her own. You’d been clear about the white—apparently he gets all kinds of excited about little white underthings—and far be it for her to ignore such a titillating detail.

Sandy takes it upon herself to continue the play, pressing her lips to the soft skin of your décolletage, following the soft rise of your breasts before nuzzling and nipping at the dusky areola peek-a-booing through the lace. Mewling and pawing at her head, you are strung so tight Sandy thinks you’re not acting in the least.

It’s a little strange, this softness of your curves against her own, but pleasant. Moreover is the deep satisfaction in her belly at drawing little whimpers out of you as she kisses and reveals more of your skin. Even more surprising is the gratification of bringing something out of both you and your husband that has been out of reach for much too long.

Your fingers cart through her hair, manicured nails tickling her scalp in a way that makes her vibrate. She arches at the contact and looks up at you with a coy smile, sliding a hand up your smooth leg and under the hem of your skirt.

Elvis clears his throat, interrupting them. “Be good lil’ girls f’me and s-strip down to your panties,” he says in a gravelly voice Sandy has never been privy to hearing. A shiver runs down her spine, melting and churning with all the new feelings the evening is bringing. His tone is halfway between a need and a command and neither of you need to be asked twice.

Her inhibitions fall to the floor in a heap along with pants and skirts and bras. Never once in her life did she expect to feel Elvis’ heavy, heated gaze turned on her nearly naked form but now that it’s happening, she can’t help but squirm a little. She has nothing to prove and is usually confident in her skin, but she’s certainly not a young woman anymore, her body soft and curvy with the changes age brings. Her only consolation is at least the three of you are in relatively the same boat in that regard.

Sneaking a glance at Elvis, she is bit relieved to find his examination admiring rather than turned off. Though, considering he has two naked women ready to do his bidding, it seems the natural response.

“Don’t be shy, Satnin. I’m sure Sandra won’t bite toohard if you touch her,” he muses, those bedroom eyes of his flickering with lust. You giggle nervously and then look to Sandy for permission, which she gives with a nod and a reassuring smile.

Your caress is timid at first, then more exploratory of her body than she expects. Maybe it’s the resounding hum of encouragement from your husband giving you more confidence or just pure sexual energy and curiosity, but whatever it is has Sandy feeling delightful. A tweak of a nipple here. A soft tongue there. Hands and mouths finding a rhythm of pleasure.

Sandy palms your bottom, running her fingertips down along the seam of your white underwear, when Elvis cuts in, his voice thick with desire:

“Play with her an’ make her feel good, Sandra.”

Tingles erupt over her skin. She follows orders, sliding her hand down into your panties and through your soft curls until she reaches your hooded clit. She rubs gently, like she would do to herself, and you gasp in her mouth, body bowing to get more friction.

After a few moments, the unmistakable sound of a zipper clicks through the air. Her body suddenly burns with the scandalous nature of it all, and her excitement surprises her.

“Is she wet?” he asks Sandy.

Sliding her fingers down, she can feel the slick of your arousal on her fingertips.

“Yes,” she says unabashedly.

A pause.

“Are you?” His voice is low and dripping with honey.

A pulse of heat starts throbbing in her core, and for the first time tonight, she stumbles over her words, suddenly breathless. “I…I think so?”

“Honey, see if you’re makin’ Sandra excited,” he commands you, then with humor adds, “She apparently doesn’t know.”

Sandy throws a glare Elvis’ way but then your fingers are cold against the blazing heat of her muff, a sensation which makes her jump as you glide your fingers over sensitive, slick skin.

“She’s soaked,” you relay demurely, and all at once Sandy feels like the tables have turned in this little tableau.

“Show me. Both of you.”

His demand makes her stomach drop, like she’s on a roller coaster.

She feels disappointed when you pull your hand away, and the sentiment feels mutual. Both of you display your shining fingers in the dim light.

Elvis crooks his finger and beckons you both closer.

There’s no helping the curious way her eyes drift down and land on his dusky pink cock, the head peeking out from his foreskin, dripping and standing at full attention now he’s been released from the confines of his black pants. Sandy’s mouth goes dry when she realizes just how much nature has blessed him in ways other than his talent.

Is it wrong that she wants to touch it, to feel the heavy heat of him in her palm? To make him shudder underneath her touch? Perhaps so. The itch to torture him with her body just a little for every cunning remark and every dumbass selfish move he’s made in the last 15 years is strong and it makes her tingle just to think of.

He must read the look on her face because his eyes go a bit wide with something unreadable before narrowing with laser focus.

Her heart starts thudding against her ribcage, all the blood rushing out of her head when he wraps his large hand around her wrist, dwarfing it, and pulls her between his spread muscular thighs. Then he draws those glistening fingers of hers right into his mouth.

She gasps. Every nerve in her body is set alight with fireworks as he sucks her fingers clean of his wife’s arousal, his tongue warm and soft and oh-so thorough.

It’s her whimpering now as he pins her with his flaming eyes. Her breath catches. His mouth pops off her digits.

“Mmm…sweet as a sundae. You’ll see, Sandra Dee.” A slow, sly grin spreads across his handsome face as he releases her wrist.

Being on the other end of that devastating smile, especially in a situation like this, has her trembling. It pisses her off a little, actually, that he’s having this effect, and by the glint in his eye, he knows it.

Like he’s saying, Game on.

Then, he looks to you, pulling you close. His mischievousness softens slightly. Sandy is glad to see under the red flush of pleasure on your cheeks there is also a look of relief on your face, as if you are thinking, “Oh, thank heavens, it’s working.”

Sandy steps back, happy to give the couple space, but Elvis’ hand shoots out, latching onto her arm.

“Nuh uh, now where d’ya think you’re goin’?” It’s husky and playful but also fraught with an undercurrent of tension, as though he’s not quite ready and maybe a little nervous about being alone with his wife. He keeps his hand on her arm but turns his attention to you.

“Haven’t sampled another pussy in a loooong time, lil’ mama,” he drawls up at you, “Ya sure you wanna give daddy a taste?” His brow quirks, asking for permission, making sure you’re still comfortable with this arrangement you’ve surprised him with. The words are confident, but Sandy can hear the gravity behind them.

You nod encouragingly. “Yes.”

“Mm’kay then,” and then he sucks your fingers right into his mouth.

Sandy can’t help but blush wildly as she watches him savor her off his wife’s hand. And it’s positively obscene the way he opens his eyes and stares into hers brazenly as he does it.

Never has she felt quite so exposed. Arousal swirls in her core, betraying all her sensibilities.

Elvis runs his tongue under his upper lip after he’s done, where he lets it peek out at the corner of his mouth with a smirk. “Now ain’t that jus’ the cherry on top,” he purrs, eyes sparkling.

Sandy hates how she goes a bit weak in the knees at that. God, this man infuriates her, always has in that loving way of his, but this is a whole different level of understanding and intimacy she’s not accustomed to with him.

But whether she likes it or not, her body is absolutely buzzing with anticipation for the both of you, as evidenced by the way she clenches her thighs and the way her panties get just a little bit more ruined.

The motion doesn’t go unnoticed by Elvis, and his gaze darkens.

Oh, it’s gonna be a long night, alright.

A long night, indeed.

*

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance! 

Taglist Pt 1

@eliseinmemphis@russian-soft-bitch@tattywood

@sassanoe@thella @suspiciousmidge @hiddlepiddlediddlewiddle@carolinesbookworld @juggernort @aesthetic-lyss @stitchattacks @donnamarie23

 @littlebitofgreen@paigevis@bugg06@xhannahbananax03@artlover8992

@18lkpeters@frozenhuntress67@girlblogger2002@kendralavon7@misspresley

@be-my-ally @whositmcwhatsit @vintageshanny @ellie-24 @thatbanditqueen @powerofelvis @from-memphis-with-love

 @precious-lil-scoundrel @stylespresleyhearted @prompted-wordsmith @crash-and-cure @elvisgf @lookingforrainbows @fic-over-cannon @godlypresley @ab4eva @whatstruthgottodowithit @elvisabutler @amydarcimarie@idontwanttoputanything @callieselvisobsessed @captainamerica1235-blog  @xenaspace3-blog 

@simplyamberj@claire-elvisgirl@everythingelvispresley@louisejoy86@deniseinmn @madelynpresley

#got a lotta lovin' to do #a scarf universe story #pink scarf #pink scarf universe #elvis presley #elvis #if you’re looking for trouble #you came to the right place #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presely smut

[skz1-4-3]

MY DEMON CH.1

Navigation || ateez Masterlist || hongjoong Masterlist ||.

¡Click here for the preview which holds important information to understand the story!

Pairings : DEMON!Hongjoong x reader , slight Wooyoung x san(not detailed , just a lot of skinship between those and lolevly chemistry)

Warnings : not proofread , Mentioning of blood , stabbing , choking(in a movie reader will watch) , harassment(reader gets harassed by men on the streets at night). Gore , head being sliced of by unknown power , knife. LMK if i missed something that could be triggering. <3

Word count : 1.7k (1,721 to be exact)

Readers POV : „you…“

Y/n POV : „I…“

no direct interaction with hongjoong yet , but i promise in the next chapter there will be.

————————————-————————————

„No, please ! Stay with me , you can’t leave me. Im begging you!“

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-1 YEAR BEFORE THE DAY OF THE INCIDENT-

[READERS POV]

You grunted as, you finally carried the last box into your new home, from the van . Your aunt had just passed away due to a tragic car accident, she was the last family member you had left , but now shes gone aswell. Somehow every single one of your family member all died due to tragic events.

You emptied each box and settled down on the slightly dusty couch that got a little damaged from the transport. You prior lived in busan , a small town in South korea and now you were here in Seoul , the city you and your aunt dreamed of visiting before her death.

„I should probably go grocery shopping , since i had to throw everything away“ you sighed , tired from moving. You stood up , grabbed your new keys and drove to the nearest store to buy some food and other things you might think were necessary.

„okay lets see , first lets get some food , i already have enough water at home so no need to worry about that for the time being“ you said out loud , even though there was nobody around that you talked to. You walked down the aisle , scanning the shelves to check if you needed anything in particular . Nothing looking infront of you, you accidentally walked into something or rather someone.

„Oh my , im so sorry. I wasn’t watching where i was going.“ you apologized and bowed to the person you walked into , as they put a hand on your shoulder.

„Please do not bow , its alright.“ a male deep voice said and you raised your head to look at the owner.

„My name is mingi by the way and these three are yeosang , san and wooyoung.“ he introduced himself and his friends to which they all nodded and two of them-san and wooyoung- gave a little wave and ‚hey‘

„Nice to meet you , my name is Y/n“ you spoke and gave them a little smile , they seemed so nice and had a friendly aura. Especially mingi , his aura basically gave you energy . You could see their auras thanks to your moms witch side,that flowed through your veins.

„where are you from by the way ? I can hear an accent“ Mingi asked you , tilting his head in curiosity. You told him that you were from busan and you all had a fun conversation about anything that came to your minds.

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..2 MONTHS LATER

-10 MONTHS BEFORE THE INCIDENT-

This encounter was 2 Months ago . Along your journey you all became good friends , almost family. Everything felt natural , you had also met Seonghwa , Yungo and jungho . Today you were all hanging out at you apartment, having another sleepover . You all gathered around and on the couch.

„So what we gonna do?“ Wooyoung asked and everyone turned to look at him . Mingi suggested to watch a horror movie and everyone agreed ,since halloween was approaching anyways. So you gathered some blankets and pillows ,to built a small nest ,to sit in. Everyone sat down comfortably , you were between mingi and yeosang,while wooyoung and san were cuddling each other. Seonghwa and jongho were on the couch, while yunho turned on the selected movie on the TV and proceeded to sit down infront of you and lied his head down ,between your legs. You put a blanked on him ,so it was warm and cozy .

The horror movie felt more like a thriller, as it showed a scene ,where blood was splashing basically everywhere. The character shown on screen was being brutally murdered and stabbed several times as Ghost face-the murderer in the scene- let out a maniac laugh. His free hand which wasn’t holding the knife , choking the poor girl.

Soon the movie was over and you all decided to play a classic game called truth or dare . Whenever you were bored , truth or dare was your solution.

„Okay , Wooyoung . Truth or dare?“ Yeosang asked wooyoung in anticipation.

„Hm truth , i dont trust you with a dare man.“ wooyoung answered and yeosang asked him ,if he was interested in anyone ,at the moment . The young man, had found a love letter in the notes app ,of wooyoungs phone , so he got quite curious. Wooyoung answered „no , i dont think i do.“ so yeosang asked him „what about that little love letter of yours?“ with a sly smile on his face . „I was just trying to be poetic i guess , im planning on writing a song about past relationships.“ he swiftly answered ,as if he was prepared for this question.

Playing another few rounds , yunho got up and walked to the closet beneath the TV to see what other movies you got stored in it. „Hey y/n , what book is this.“ he asked as he held up a book, that your aunt had left you behind, before her death. Strangely to you , it seemed like she knew the date of her death and was waiting for it . Becoming more anxious day after day , and two days before her accident, she gave you the book. It was filled with sentences, in what you assumed to be latin , but some words were still unknown to you ,so thats why you thought, it must be a different one.

„My aunt left it behind for me .“ you told him and took the book out of his hands gently . You opened the book on the last page, since you were supposed to read it from right to the left , other than usual books.

„Bestiam arcesse , tegere , necare , facere quod volo . At mihi ne noceas, ut sum dominus.“( summon the beast, to protect , to kill . But it shall not harm me , as I am its master.) you said out loud , yes you knew that you came from a family of witches -just like mingi , you found out about that when he used a spell to change clothes without knowing that you saw him- but you aunt always told you , that you were to weak to cast a spell , since your dad was human .

Or so you all thought

After you read it out and san raising his eyebrow , seonghwa asked. „What does that mean?“

„I have no idea“ you responded and you all returned to truth or dare and you placed the book behind you. Behind you … just like the weird stare you suddenly felt.

„Okay y/n , truth or dare .“ wooyoung asked you , you answered „dare!“ slightly excited. Wooyoung always had the most fun dares to do. But this time it wasn’t that fun .

„i dare you to get some snacks from the 24/7 store down the street. Please? I am starving.“ he said leaning into you with puppy eyes. You sighed and agreed. Should’ve picked truth. „Let me go with you , its already 2AM and dark outside.“ yunho said being the gentleman he is.

You disagreed and said thats its all good since the store is just down the road and been to it several times before after 3AM. After some arguing he accepted to just stay and wait for you to come back. You took you purse , put on shoes and jacket and left the house.

As you walked down the street with your hands in your pocket , you started to feel slightly uncomfortable. Weird… , you thought as you grew anxious. Out of nowhere a hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you , into the alleyway. Another hand covering your mouth as the one that grabbed you held your wrists together behind you. You tried to scream but your sounds got muffled .

„Okay sweetheart , this will god by quickly if you just comply with us.“ said one of the men ,as he twirled the knife in his hands , a disgusting smirk plastered across his face. Your eyes filled with fear and pleading for them to let you go.

Unexpectedly the one holding your wrists let go , or so you thought. When you turned around you saw him unconscious on the flore . The other three were shocked and walked over to him , slapping his cheeks. The second time something weird happened was when another mens throat suddenly splashed a circle of bloods from around it and his eyes widened , you eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then his head , fell off of his body , landing on the floor next to the -which you thought was unconscious- dead man. The remaining two screamed and your eyes widened in horror. You quickly turned around and ran home where you were safe. Not really.

You were still dazed from what happened. Did the other two die aswell? You questioned yourself in your mind ad you walked into the living room where you found 7 men on couch and floor -or both like mingi whos upper body was on the floor but hips and legs on the couch- all sleeping.

You sighed in relief not having to answer the questioning of wooyoung which would lead to you vaguely telling them what happened , which then would lead to yunho feeling like he should be the one to blame for it.

You walked over to the free couch, which no one was on and settled down. You muscles thanking you ,since you just ran as fast ,as you’ve never been before. Looking down on the table you found the book open on the page from before again. The the guys read it ? You thought before you layed down to finally get some rest.

Why you weren’t confused on what happened just now? You were always told stories ,by your aunt and some of your mother , before they both passed ,on how crazy events happened to them, because they were witches.

Must be a witch thing…

Was the last thing you thought as you finally fell asleep.

#hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #ateez hongjoong #ateez headcanons #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez san #ateez fluff #ateez wooyoung #ateez mingi #ateez jongho #ateez seonghwa #ateez yeosang #ateez x female reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you

[lilfawnsblog]

Nanami x reader smut nsfw! I hope you enjoy. If you have any requests please send them.

Preview: You his sweet wife come to his work to bring him his jacket that he forgot at home. He can’t keep his composure very long.

Thank you so much for reading!

Nanami is so calm and collected. He’s a stern man and takes his job very seriously. So when you, his loving wife come into his work in your sweet little skirt to bring him his jacket he left at home he had to keep his composure.

“Sweets, you didn’t have to come all the way here to bring me my jacket.” He says

“I didn’t want you to be cold and I know your job is important so I just brought it to you.” You smile

He kisses you and caresses your sides sweetly.

“You look so pretty right now baby.”

You giggle and he takes your hand as he sits down in his chair. You sit down on his lap and he brushes your hair out of your face.

You whisper in his ear, “I woke up this morning and you weren’t in bed with me. I needed to come see you at work. I need you so bad.” You slowly grind down on his lap.

“Baby not here. I can’t.” He whispers

You smile and he notices that you aren’t wearing anything under your skirt. He moans. Throwing his head back. He moves his hands down to your hips and guides your body. His fingers caress the inside of your thighs.

“Wasn’t last night enough for you?” He says remembering the events of the night before.

You just giggle as his hands move down to where you wanted him most. He gently touches your clit and it sends a tingle up your body. All of a sudden his phone rings. He picks it up as you sigh.

“Hello, yeah what do you need I’m not busy.” He smirks as he speaks into the phone.

He talks on the phone and you get a little impatient. He notices and plunges his finger into you. You moan abruptly and your eyes roll back. He shushes you as he’s speaking with his higher ups.

“No no we need someone to take care of this special grade curse now.” He spoke

He fingers you faster as you start to quiet down. You try to bit your lip to hide your moans.

“Huh it’s just my chair. Sorry, it’s a little squeaky.” he apologizes on the phone

“Gotta be quiet baby.”

“ ‘m sorry can’t help it” you whimper

You take his hand and stick his finger into your mouth. Licking and sucking his fingers. He finishes his phone call and turn his attention to you.

“You did so good baby. You close?” He asks

You just nod as your eyes roll back. Soon after you come around his fingers. He moans as he looks at you with so much love.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” He says

You both look down at his pants and see the bulge and the giant wet spot slowly spreading

“Baby did you just cum in your pants.” You giggle

#nanami kento #kento smut #jjk kento #kento x reader #nanami smut #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut

[keeponquinning]

Yes, Professor — Part One of Three.

Joseph Quinn x Erotica Novelist Fem!Reader. 18+

Word Count — 4.6k

Summary — slightly based on this, but mainly. You're Joseph's secret writer girlfriend who you met amidst the start of his convention tours, things are hot and heavy between you two, though strained for the inconvenience of not living in the same city and not being official. You're forced to spend a week apart but plan to meet up with him back in London on the last day of his Con appearance, and after teasing him for his Professor type choice of outfits, well, you just couldn't resist showing up dressed as your professor's favorite student, now could you? We thought not.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three

Part One — He's in London, you? Are not. In a party for you best friend's boyfriend, you manage to get him in a call, hearing his voice, laughing, conversations wishing to see his face, but you can take what you can get.

Preview —

Warnings — Not too many, nothing really smutty happens this part, maybe some dirty talk. Established relationship, it is a big ol' RPF and my first attempt. If not your thing, that's valid AF, just don't be mean / a dick about it. I am but a drop in this massive ocean called Tumblr, just swim on past and enjoy the waves without me if it bothers, I beg. There's also cursing. 18+ so minors, PLEASE, DNI!

Notes — Oh, this came out sooner than my last one, huh?? Mainly because I decided to split this into three parts instead of one big ol' one shot. I def learned my lesson lmao I had a lot of fun writing this, dialogue and banter are my fave things and there was a lot of that in this. Kinda fell in love with these two and planning on doing an actual multi-chaptered fic with them, how they met, all that jazz, let me know if it's something you'd want. Or not, if I get just one person like "yes, please" I'll do it bc people pleasing tendencies fuel me. I've left Reader pretty vague and ambiguous but we do have her mentioning Joseph's British-ness and obviously not living in the same continent because transatlantic romance is so rom com it hurts, but, feel free to ignore that and implant your own background on her, kinda the point, right?? Alright, hope you like this! Like, Reblog and Comment, they fuel me and make my heart go pitter patter!

Taglist — @lunaapis , @munsons-mayhem28 , @inourtownofhawkins , @hopperscock ( i fucking love this url you have no idea )

"What are you wearing?"

You hear an amused chuckle on the other end of the call, along with a distinct clicking of tongue. "...don't I get a hello first or are you missing me that much?"

A snort comes out your way, totally undignified, but he'd never call you out on it. "I mean, I am, but... Shut up." He's cackling now, that laugh that makes you smile stupidly and you're glad you're on an audio call rather than face time — though you wouldn't mind seeing his stupidly pretty face. "I'm serious, what are you wearing?"

"Why are you asking?" his voice strained, amused, but strained. He must be smiling, his laughter barely dying down.

Taking a deep breath, you explain, "Because I haven't seen you in a week and from the photos I've been seeing of you all day today... I need to prepare myself for when I see you tomorrow."

"I need you to repeat that, not the nonsense about my clothes but the...seeing me tomorrow bit."

Your eyes closed, lips stretching in a smile that, in the crowded room you were in the middle of, you tried to suppress. Teeth biting your lip, eyes cautiously looking around the party you were attending but your mind being on a man across the pond as it were, you let out a soft scoff. "....I need to prepare myself for when I see you tomorrow."

"Damn fucking right you will," his voice low, almost a growl that was...unfortunate, considering your surroundings. But more important, his tone was wistful. You heard the sound of gentle squeak, taking to mean that he sat on his bed, one that you missed very much at the moment. "I can't wait for that, and you will be needing to prepare yourself once we're alone... I fucking miss you."

"Mmm, your voice notes kinda gave that impression, yeah," you chuckled, hearing his as well. "Though I enjoyed hearing them when I wake up. It's lame, but, I do miss hearing your voice first thing in the morning." You hear him take a deep breath, exhaling with a soft hum. "Among other things. Hotel beds are just a bit too cold without you."

"Mhm, feeling the same way with my own bed, darling. Have to remind myself it's just been a week, but, feels a bit longer. Can't wait to have you back, though I know, temporarily."

"I know," this time it was you that sounded wistful. You knew you shouldn't, it was a good reason you'd be away from him. The latest in your book series was out there, digitally and in a week, in physical form. The gap between that and the previous book a bit too wide for your liking, or that of your publisher and readers. It was good that you finally finished it, but in that, included a tour of the book, which meant away from him, your sort of boyfriend. "At least you'll have me for a week, well, between your filming, anyway. Enough time for your friends to get sick of me and then wish I went away to have you to themselves again and for my friends to miss the me that isn't attached to your hip."

"Hah," he scoffed, a sound of a stretch that you could only assume was him laying down on his bed. "My friends are sick of me now, keep complaining about how I miss you. Even have Wes saying if I'm this needy without you, can't imagine how you handle me by your side, so, you've somehow got their sympathy and on your side, I'm the problem now, apparently." You couldn't hold in the laugh that barked its way out of you, and you could hear the offense even from the other line. "Oi. Don't laugh, you knew I was needy from the get go, I made no attempt to hide that."

Recovering from the laugh, you have a nod, though you knew he couldn't see, "Yeah, you are a bit of a clinger." Your smile still lingering, eyes soft, "But... It's...kinda one of your more endearing qualities, so... I'll take it."

"Oh, how gracious of you, accepting that I fucking adore you to the point of being miserable enough without you and getting on my friends fucking nerves"

He always made you laugh, you didn't even know if he intended to, but you could hear him laughing alongside you, so he must have, right? "God, hearing you curse is the best, y'know? You seem like a nice, proper boy, but then you curse and it..." You shake your head, "Makes me miss you more."

You heard him scoff, a wet sound, and you could almost see him licking his lips with a smile. "I know, dead sexy and all that... Hard to resist."

A shrug of your shoulders, more to yourself, of course, "...it kinda is. Makes me wanna do things to you to make you curse more..."

He groaned, which was also a lovely noise on its own. "Don't say things like that when you're not in grabbing distance, it's not fair."

You smiled, almost wickedly, eyes catching sight of your best friend, the only reason you were away from him at the moment. "Yeah, well, at least you're alone on your bed, I'm surrounded by people in my pretty dress, not getting grabbed and kissed by you and..." you trailed off as said best friend stopped in front of you, a pointed brow arched. You cleared your throat, smile still in place, "Which is totally fine, because I'm here to support my best friend and her crazy talented boyfriend on his birthday and album release and I'm totally fine with it."

"Mhm," she let out with a nod, "What I thought. Hi, Joe, can you two say goodbye because said boyfriend is gonna start up in a few minutes and I will not have you two have phone sex while he's performing, thank you."

"Excuse me!"

"You're not excused! You're so not excused — you're not allowed."

"That's just—" you were about to say rude when you very clearly hear the cackling on the other end of your call. "Stop laughing! You're not allowed to laugh right now, that's not fair."

"I'm sorry!" he let out, his voice thin, high, and you could hear an attempt to calm the laughter — but an attempt he did not win as more laughter came rolling out, making your lips twist and wanting to laugh despite yourself. Why did his laugh have to be so infectious sometimes? "I'll stop, I swear..." he continued, making you roll your eyes, looking at the smirking face of your best friend. "....oh, god... Tell Jen I said hello."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, looking over at her, "The painfully British one says hello, because manners maketh the man I'm sure."

Jen cackled as well, shaking her head, "I'll give you two like, ten minutes, tops. You're introducing them, remember?"

"Of course. Ten minutes." A mock salute given, you watch as she turned toward the stage of the intimate venue, just a smaller group of closest friends. Taking a deep breath, directing your attention to your phone, "J o e."

"Oh, no, not Joe. I'm always in trouble when I get Joe instead of your usual Joseph."

"Damn right, that was not cool, I know we're not official, but, you have to have my back. It's the most chivalrous thing to do."

He snickered, "I'm... I'm sorry, I'm sorry! But, well," you heard him release a soft laugh, then heard, "...not to point fingers but you did start the conversation asking me what I was wearing... So was that...not where this was heading...?"

You clicked your tongue off the roof of your mouth very disappointingly, kind of. "No, you perv, I just wanted to know if my sort of boyfriend is going to continue dressing up as a slutty professor so I can figure out how to handle seeing that in person."

"I—" he started, but words cut off with a snicker, and then a proper laugh. "You—Okay. Several things. Don't fucking call me your sort of boyfriend. I am your boyfriend, just.... Well. Secret boyfriend. At least for now—"

"—until your publicist deems me worthy of being known to be dating you."

"No, just... Until we're more established, is all. And I am looking forward to that, taking you to events and such. I'd love to go to the book tour with you, show off how fucking proud I am of you and this book. But... I also don't want to overshadow your accomplishment, the way it's so mad right now. But I am your boyfriend, I know you say it in a joking manner with Jen and our friends, I get it, but... And it's fine to joke about it. Really. But I need you to know it's real for me and I hope it is for you, too. It... It is, isn't it?"

You smiled softly, his words warming your heart more than they should, once again blown away by his sense of sincerity. You never really dated anyone like that before and sometimes, it honestly takes you by surprise. "... Yeah, I know. And I don't mind it, honestly. I'd end things if I did... You're my boyfriend and I'm your girlfriend and...if my joking around hurt you in any way, then I'm sorry, you know I don't mean it. Not with something like this. You...mean a lot to me in a very short amount of time and...it's kind of overwhelming sometimes."

There was a soft sigh, a pleased one, from the other end of the call. "I know. I feel the same. Was never expecting you, or anyone, not like this. And no, you didn't hurt me, not one bit. There's no worry of that. I just needed you to know, I'm in this with you."

Though you certainly didn't need to hear it, there's a lightness from within your chest at his words, a light ease in your breathing and your soft smile grew wide. You didn't need him to confirm what you already knew, but, it was lovely to hear. "Me too. I'm in this, too. Especially if you're going to be sweet like that," you end with a light chuckle, joined by his own. "Not fair on your part. But, I'll let it pass."

"My girlfriend is very gracious like that, I'm so lucky to have her."

"Don't you forget it. Okay. I'm assuming you had more to say?"

"Yes, thank you for that. Was quickly getting side tracked... I just wanted it to be known that I am severely disappointed that phone sex is off the table, that broke my heart since we've been in an almost constant state of phone tag, its ridiculous," you giggled at that, actually giggled which was rare. And he knew it, you could hear his chuckle, and though you couldn't see him, you knew he was pleased with that smug little smirk on his lips. "But, I'll survive that. Also. Slutty professor? I've no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on. You dress like a romantic, slutty professor to these things and you know it."

"I think someone's too far into their own erotica stories and confusing some things, I... Dress as a professional. I have to. My stylist deems it so and I just...do as I'm told."

"...Joseph. What were you wearing today, and don't lie, I've seen the pictures. I just wanna hear you say it."

"You're being absolutely ridiculous, I... My loafers, my favorite ones, trousers, erm... Blue button shirt and... Well, a cardigan..." There was a pause, and you knew he was rethinking it all. "...beige cardigan and.....my dark grey...coat—okay. Maybe... Maybe it was a bit professor-ish. You...might be on to something there..."

"Uh-huh. Dressed like a professor who cares and has long office hours for any of his students to come by to unwind..."

"Stop that," he let out with a laugh. "That should be your next book."

"Oh, who says it won't be? I'll dedicate it to you, for inspiration. I'm assuming you'd be open for me to come to you for...brainstorming? Test out scenes, just, y'know, for the sake of art and authenticity?"

"Morning, noon and night, yes, I'm all yours and your....creativity." He chuckled, softly, there was a lingering silence between the two of you, and then a groan from his end. "Just out of curiosity... Would... I dunno, say...a sweater vest, erm... Like....Oof, a grey one with a dark jacket, that um... Is that slutty professor chic, you think?"

"I fucking knew it."

"Hold on! It was... It was a thought... Are you into the slutty professor look, though?"

"Why do you think I called you in the first place? Yes, of course I'm into it. Do you know what it's like, seeing your pics all over my social media, people sending me pics of you with that cardigan and long coat and just... Do you?"

You could almost hear his smug smile as he let out an even soft chuckle. "I do, actually... You're wearing that burgundy dress aren't you?" Your brows rose, though you didn't say anything, not yet. A soft little hum buzzing into your ear through your phone. "I've been stalking your instagram the past week, so I saw the picture you posted today. It's that burgundy dress I like. The one with the bow at the hip and the... The matching choker with the jewelry that you think is almost tacky but... I like it. Gave me something to look at the other time you wore it, remember that? Was it New Years? Took you to an empty room right before countdown, lifted your skirt and—"

"S t o p, we're not doing that, not now," though you smiled, remembering the moment quite clearly, feeling your skin flush especially as he laughed then. He had such a nice, deep, warm laugh sometimes. "...okay, so, yes, I'm wearing that dress... It's not the same, though, like, aside from that choker you love so much, it's pretty tame in comparison..."

"Mm, not for me. I love that color on you. I love anything on you if it means I can take it off of you. And—a cardigan's tame. A long coat is tame."

"The hell a long coat is tame, that's... Anyway, you wear the slutty professor really well and it's not fair. Especially if you're going to to do tomorrow. After being away from you a week... That's cruel, baby. I won't even be able to touch you until the con's over." You heard him hum, probably thinking the very same. A thought comes, making you chuckle suddenly, "I should retaliate."

"...oh god," he let out, clearly recognizing when a wicked thought comes to mind. "Pray tell, how?"

"Why... Professor..."

"....Oh, fuck."

"Yup. By dressing up as one of your favorite students, of course."

"....jesus fucking christ." You heard a small groan, "God, you would, wouldn't you? I don't know if I could take that. It's been a week, body going in withdrawal without you and the sight of you with knee high socks..."

"Hmm. Telling that the knee high is the first thing you go to. Noted."

He chuckled, "Yes, well... The thought of you in knee highs is rather... I wouldn't take them off. Not the entire time."

Your smile widened, biting your bottom lip. "Yeah? Mmm. Well, good, because I'd definitely wear your favorite colors, just for you, Professor."

"Fuck off," he said softly, though, and when you laughed, you heard him let out a breath. "Shit. I can't shake the image, now. My favorite student, dressed so pretty for me. Looking nice and soft...with uh..." He exhaled, "Burgundy knee highs, snug and soft..."

You kept a careful eye around you, trying so hard to suppress your smile. But the sound of his voice was so...alluring, finding yourself squeezing your thighs a little bit. "Keeping up with the color theme, I see..."

"It is my favorite color at the moment, especially on you."

You hummed, "Okay. Question, knee highs or thigh highs?"

"No," his voice instant, "Gotta be the knee highs. I'd want... I'd want your thighs absolutely bare. For my fingers to run and roam over the skin... And...then, y'know... I wouldn't be able to resist to kiss you there as well. Gentle ones of course, but, being away from you this time...wouldn't be long until I start biting..."

A breathless laugh escapes you, now not even caring if anyone looked or listened in on you. It had been a while since you talked to him in real time, without having to push play, it was too good to cut away from. "For someone that says they can't write for the life of them, you're not doing too bad, Professor. You might give a run for my money if you ever decide to go into the erotica business."

"Mmm, tempting, but no. I'll leave that to you. It'd just be a novel of me fucking you and I'd rather have the real thing. But... Was I good enough to get you wet for me, darling?"

It shouldn't make you blush, you built your whole career in literary dirty talk and seducing your readers with your words... But when Joseph did it, his words and voice always struck you deep. Much deeper than any other partner had, which was slightly scary and mainly thrilling. You felt the heat creeping up your neck, a soft giggle being awarded to him. "....you know you are." You heard a pleased sigh from him, taking in a deep breath as you try to calm yourself. That no, sneaking off wasn't an option, that the growing ache between your legs would have to wait, even if you wouldn't have him talk you through it, guide you toward climax in the only way he could. But. "You got me wet and feeling it now every time I walk around in my pretty burgundy dress in a room filled with people."

"Well... I'm alone in my lonely room with a very bothersome hard on and... Probably feel lonelier still when we say our goodbyes and I'll only have my hand and thoughts of you in your pretty burgundy dress, wet, wishing I can feel just how wet you are."

You let out a breath, closing your eyes a moment. "...and I'd wish it was my hand, my mouth, on that...bothersome hard cock," you heard him groan, making your heart flutter, as well as your cunt. "Like I've been fantasizing this past week."

He took a deep breath, you could hear the exhale produce static on your end, a soft hum. "Same here, love. Suppose we'll be doing the same thing tonight..."

With a dejected sigh, you have an affirming hum, "Our ten minutes are about done. Otherwise I'd sneak to a room somewhere and..." You chuckled, "Tell you in excruciating detail the things I'd do to you to make you curse." His laugh comes out at that, making your smile spread further on your face. "But. I am due on stage to introduce my best friend's boyfriend and his band, so... She'd kill me if I missed that, and then would go and kill you, and no one wants that."

"No, no, we do not. That's fine. More to release when I see you tomorrow. Probably keep you to myself for the rest of the week, fair warning, darling."

"Yes, Professor. I'm very okay with that."

The way he groaned at that made your heart flutter again, as well between your legs. You did miss him, terribly, your fingers and toys did little to satisfy you, not without his warmth, his kiss, the moans you'd swallow and hunger for more. "...keep that up and I won't want you to call me anything else."

"Is it bad I kinda like it? P r o f e s s o r?"

He gave a helpless laugh, "Shit, it is. It's very bad of you. Naughty, even. Wicked. My poor coc—"

"Tomorrow, only until tomorrow. And then I'll make it up to you, in any way you want me to. I'll call you professor if you want me to."

"I knew there was a reason you're my favorite student..." You smiled and you could feel he was smiling too. "Okay. I'm going to give you back to your best friend, again. Thank her for me, for letting me have you to myself for this long."

"I will, she'll expecting nothing less. Think of me?"

He chuckled, and you could picture him shaking his head. "When am I not? Especially right now, left to my own devices... Until I have you to myself again." You heard him take a sharp intake of breath, "Have fun, yeah? I love you."

You felt like a teenager again, at the sound of those three words, said recently, right before you left. A slip of the tongue, but meant with sincerity from you both. "I love you, too. I'll see you... Bye."

"Bye, darling. I can't wait."

There was a heaviness that weighed on you as you ended the call, knowing it had to be you, otherwise you wouldn't end it at all. The warmth of his voice lingered, the image of his face imprinted on your brain, curling your fingers around your phone. A thought hitting you like lightning, going to messages and tapping quickly.

Send me a voice note. I wanna hear you.

He liked it.

Your smile widening as you turned around, dumping your phone into your purse and with your heels, made it toward the small stage where the band were setting up. Hands went to Jen's shoulders, hugging her from behind. "I'm all yours, now. He said thank you for letting him have me for the call."

She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, "Gross, you guys are gross."

"Shut up, we're cute." Jen seeming unconvinced. "Whatever, I'm happy."

Your best friend gave a shrug, "Then that's okay." You pulled away and stood beside her, and she took a breath. "He does seem to make you happy and... I don't hate that. Just the whole...secret relationship thing gives me pause." Crossing her arms, she looked to you, raising her brow. "Be honest.... You really okay with it? Because if you are, I'll back off and be one hundred percent for you guys. Because he is nice and seems crazy about you and I haven't seen you this happy in a while... I just don't want you hurt, y'know? I'm not being a bitch—"

"You're never a bitch—" you interjected, pausing as you two looked at each other, and you smirked. "Okay, well, yeah, you are, but for good reasons. A boss bitch, through and through." You paused a bit, giving a shrug of your shoulders. "I dunno. We talked about it... I kinda get it, he kinda blew up overnight and doing...so many things and I... I can't even imagine. I got booktok and like... Well, this book tour, but, obviously nothing on his level. He seems more concerned about if it came out, he'd overshadow my book and the press for it." Which you did appreciate, you worked hard, but part of the reason you got the book done as fast as you did was his encouragement. Being the first to read your pages, his excitement over the story you crafted holding a huge part. "It would have been nice to dedicate the book to him, but, since we aren't....out, didn't really feel right."

"Mmhm..."

"But. I don't know, at first it was kind of fun, sneaking around, dodging photographers, you know. Secret affair type of thing except not being horrible with spouses to cheat on, that kind of thing? And we were casual at first, seeing other people, until... We weren't and...not casual anymore. I mean, it's kind of still fun but also...not."

Taking a deep breath, she sighed. "And how long until it's not kind of fun for you?"

Looking over at her, you frowned, hating that she had a point. "I don't know. I'm not there yet... And I'm hoping it doesn't come to that because... I'm really fucking happy with him." Raising your brow, you give her a reassuring smile. "I'll be careful. And if I'm not, you can kick my ass about it."

"Deal," she agreed to, seeming a little lighter about the situation. "So, is he still going to dress all Mr. Darcy as a Professor when you see him?"

"I swear, he's a walking Jane Austen leading man, like it's just straight up Professor without him even trying." She laughed, you joining in. "It's gotta be a British thing, it has to." Laughing a bit harder, "I teased him with an idea, though, dressing up like a student."

"Oh? Oh, that'd be perfect. Are you meeting him after that con or...?"

A sly smile comes across your face, then, looking at her with a slight chuckle. "Mmm... Don't laugh, but... I actually planned on surprising him at the con?" Your smile widened as she gasped, looking at you agape. "I bought a photo and autograph with him. I knew there'd be no chance on the day of and I thought it'd be cute, you know? He doesn't know."

"Oh, God, I hate to say it, but that's fucking adorable! And kinda genius." Her eyes widened, "You know, though... I mean... The set up's too perfect, you have to dress all slutty student."

"Hey, slutty is for Halloween, I'd be dressed as his favorite student, with knee highs, he seemed very into that."

If her eyes could widen even further, Jen's would, letting out a bark of a laugh. "Oh my god, knee—no, no," shaking her head. "You are doing this. You are gonna do this. Listen...we're gonna make this happen."

"We don't have time, I'm getting the red eye, remember? And by the time this is over—"

But she was determined, shaking her head, "Nope, look. You're gonna introduce the band, because you are my amazing writer friend and words are your thing. We'll stay for a few songs, and then I'm going to take you shopping, okay? I'm making this happen, I'm gonna make this happen for you."

"I thought he gave you pause and you're gonna work this hard to make a fantasy come true for him?"

She wagged her finger from side to side, "Oh, no, no. Not for him, for you. Look, he seems great and he probably is, and maybe there will be a time where he's like a brother to me, but right now? I believe you when you say he makes you happy and that you're happy with him, I see it, so, I'm doing this for you. Because you are my best friend and that's love, bitch."

"I love you. Like... You'll always be my first love, in a totally platonic kind of way. Only because of the fact that you're annoyingly straight."

Jen sighed, "I know, it's a pain, but, we'll always have each other's backs and our hearts, before anyone else." Her gaze going toward the stage, her musician boyfriend giving her a nod, releasing a soft smile. "We didn't do so bad, though. You're up. Make me proud of my boyfriend, okay?"

"Oh, yeah, how do you want me to go about it? Soft and emotional, very serious or...roast him but from the heart?" You both looked at each other for a moment, the answer quite clear.

"Roast him."

for your consideration....

#words did come hither — writings #joseph quinn — writings #joseph quinn smut #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader

[igotanidea]

Community service : Dick Grayson x reader preview

Summary: reader is a legal trainee who may or may not have some past connections she hid from everyone in the office. And so it happens that the people she was trying to loose are a bit more resiliant than expected.

A/N: I think I might be creating a new reader!verse for Dick with the lawyer s/o. @pinksirensong- whatchya think? :D :D

***

„I got a job for you.”

“You don’t say”  Y/N peeked from the pile of documents mounting on her desk.

“Come on, don’t get moody, it’s gonna be fun.”

“Please, describe to me how do you define fun.”

As if being a legal trainee wasn’t hard enough. Y/N was working her ass off, combing work at the law firm with her studies and exams and trying to make ends meet with all the students loan and life expenses. It was hard, but worth it. She only had half a year more to endure and then, if everything goes according to plan she would become a full attorney-at-law, making much more money and it would all get better. But for now, her boss were overwhelming her with work, papers, tasks and everything that he didn’t want to do himself. Meaning he considered her smart enough to deal with them but still.

To boot that, she had an amazing yet too expressive fellow trainee in the room. Tom was like everywhere, except his desk. He knew all the rumors, events, potential clients. And more often than not he got her involved in sneaking out and spying on the bosses cases. Just like now.

“Hm, let me think” he scratched his nose “fun is when someone public gets in trouble and we get to do the damage control”

“Who?” Y/N’s eyes widened. Maybe  Tom was right this time.

“Oh, now you are getting curious. “ he smirked “you know, I’ve changed my mind. I’ll keep this a secret and let you work” turning on his heels he started walking out of the room, but she was quick to jump off her chair and grab the coattail of his jacket.

“don’t you dare!”

“Oh, all right, fine, you got me. It’s Wayne.”

“Like Bruce Wayne?” she frowned “what the hell does he have to do with our law firm? I thought he has his own.”

‘This time it’s not about the company.” Tom whispered. He just loved filtering information, keeping his friend on the verge of patience.

“Fine. Fine.” She waved her hands “I’ll ask. Who is this about then?”

“His sons.”

“Well, that is specific. With his adoption rate he’s got like ten of them now. I bet it’s Jason. He seems like the biggest troublemaker of them all.”

“I thought he was dead…..”

“Right, right, of course…… I completely forgot about it.” She may have said that a bit too quick, but Tom let it pass.

“It’s Grayson. Apparently he got in some kind of legal trouble and ……”

“ Y/N.”

“Yes, boss?”

“I need you in the conference room in five minutes. We got important client who asked for you.” He almost flinched when he said that. “Please, try to look presentable. It’s Bruce Wayne and his oldest son.” And without another word he left the room, leaving Y/n with the urge to run away and tom with his mouth wide open.

“He asked for you?! Y/N, what the hell are you not telling me?!”

#dc #dc imagine #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing x oc #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dick grayson #nightwing #batfamily x reader #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson x y/n #nightwing x y/n #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #batman

[jaketsparrow]

Tending Part 3!!

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f! Reader

Word Count: 11.4K

Preview: What happened between Jake and Mariella? What’s happening to you? 

A/N: Y’all wanted the angst, so I present to you ANGST... Please don’t be mad at me. 

MINORS DNI

MENTIONS OF/ TW: Oh boy get ready… dirty talk, name-calling, unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this!), explicit sexual content, impact play, hate fucking (oops), dom/sub, mature themes, brief mentions of body dysmorphia, language, choking, safe words, public activities… fluff (hehe)…  But as always, it's filthy (IMO). Sorry if I missed anything! 

Tending Part 1!

Tending Part 2!

It’s been almost a week since you’ve spoken to Jake. 

Who knew so much could happen in a short amount of time? Dreams came true, and in one swift kick were knocked down. Your life was starting to feel like a movie. Like a meet cute, romantic, and sexy movie. But now, you were just becoming a sad Lifetime movie that your grandma would watch.

You were the sad woman alone in her apartment whose dream boy let her down. It felt pathetic to be this cliche, to be this hurt by a man who didn’t even seem to feel the same way.  Cue the sad montage of memories, and bring on the melancholy music; because this scene was never-ending. 

Saturday night ended in a catastrophic way. You finally had all the control and you still let it- well him, go. The feelings have been burning deep inside you. Your heart feels heavy thinking about it all; how you reacted, how he reacted. 

“Jake…” You coo, “What was going on with you and Mariella?” 

He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.

“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”

Was there anything that could’ve changed the outcome? Yes.

The heat of the moment boiled over you and you exploded. You were in no place to be jealous; he wasn’t yours to claim. Still, the anger sat inside you, brewing, accumulating. There was no letting go of that. It was hard to feel like there wasn’t more going on between you two. He cared for you, he protected you in ways you hadn’t seen before. He made you feel like you were actually important to him in some way. 

You’ve run through the scenario countless times, thinking of what would have been better, how you could’ve cut deeper, how you could have forgiven. You’ve learned from your past. Learning that secrets might have been hidden from you, not only from Jake but from Mariella, was painful. You weren’t sure whether to believe what he was saying. There was no emotion, only facts. You felt crazy snapping at him as he remained there perfectly calm.

The worst part of it all was that he didn’t even seem sorry about it. 

You try your best to remain cool, calm, and unknowing in front of him, “Hi Jake,” 

He smiles at you. He holds his gaze for a moment trying to read you, but like every typical man, only sees the surface. He pats your head one last time and walks off to clock in. Fuck. Why is he choosing today of all days to actually be soft with you? He’s never been this comfortable in your presence, giving you pets, actually excited for a shift. You want so badly to feel normal for this moment; to be thankful that he’s trying. But every nice gesture feels like it's souring.

You move your hair back to its rightful place and walk down to the new set of customers that just arrived. 

“Hey, what can I get for you?” You ask. 

The couple doesn’t know, but inform you that they’ll call you over when they’re ready. You move on to the next gentleman, who before you can even ask, informs you that he’ll take the cheapest beer we have. How charming! 

You walk over to the tap and begin to pour him a glass. Jake is heading towards you and you try to be in deep focus on your pour. He turns parallel to you, sliding the front of his jeans over your ass; scooching past you to exit the bar. Purposefully. Not an accident. On purpose in an attempt to mark his territory here. 

He’s stuck his flag on the moon! He’s painting JAKE in big red letters across my ass. He’s trying to remind me that I belong to his cock. You want to belong to him. The butterflies in your stomach are fluttering for him, pleading for you to get over this jealousy and take him right here on the dank bar floor. You think back to the times this exact situation has happened before; maybe those other times weren’t accidental rubs. You want him amidst all your feelings, you want him to take you into his hands and fuck the anger out of you. Really prove to you that you're his and he's yours… But he wouldn’t.

Twenty minutes ago this sentiment would have been great. But now? You feel nauseous. Desperately waiting for a clue of what happened in Mariella’s house. He probably would touch her the same as you, taking control of her body… Commanding her to his will. Touching her in all her favorite spots, which of course would probably be the same as yours. It would be easy for him to do the same things, just interchanging the women. 

You bring the snippy gentleman his beer and take his credit card from the counter. Hardly looking at him. Men. Gross. 

What really could have happened last night? Why did Jake go to Mariella’s house? It had to be for some sinister reason. The smidge of doubt you had saved for him was starting to shrink the longer you waited for the truth. 

Mariella was a beautiful girl. She had this amazing long black hair that she would always style in cute ways for her shifts. Her face was soft, but she had these gorgeous piercing blue eyes. She also had the body of a fucking model. Not those skinny tiny runway models, but those Instagram models with hourglass figures. The ones who make you feel jealous that your ass isn’t that round, or that your body didn’t fit that way into a dress. You always felt a little intimidated by her beauty, surprised that she would want to work in a bar and not run off to Paris Fashion Week. 

After one night of seeing her tips though, you understood exactly why she stayed at this job. Everyone loved her. She barely had to show up for work to make crazy amounts of money. When you both would work Saturday nights before Jake came along, you were thankful that you split tips. She was beautiful, had a bubbly personality, and always convinced everyone that they should have just one. more. round. 

The insecurities are building inside of you as you compare yourself to her. You try to shake the feeling. You still have no idea what happened, you remind yourself. Dwelling on each negative thought that sat in your head wasn’t fair to Jake. You were only allowing the devil’s advocate to speak, instead of remembering that there are two sides to this story and you’ve only heard one. 

You were on a bender of sorts. The mania of the past week left you so high and now you were really feeling the low. Your bed had become a nest of random objects: chip bags, the book you tried to read, the clothes from Saturday night you still refused to move since you took them off, and your childhood stuffed animal you had pulled from your closet to comfort you. You were neglecting your body, neglecting your mind. 

Your room had an aura of depression. You didn’t think this collapse would hurt you so badly, but you felt so low. All that build-up and anticipation for Jake was lost by a dumb mistake. Or was it a mistake? You still didn’t know. Was it easier to preserve your feelings for him rather than trust him? Was it easier to end now instead of waiting months to find more secrets? Were you wrong to be so distrusting? These thoughts plagued you, shocked you… Hit you like lightning; thunder shaking everything you wanted around you. 

You only cried on Saturday night after it was over. The whole ride home you were struggling to see through the tears. Your breath was heavy, staggering, trying to stay alive. Panic was surging through you. Anger, fear, and sadness were attacking you from all angles. You felt even worse knowing you had no right to feel this way about a man who didn’t belong to you. He could have done whatever he wanted and you should have let him. But the way he touched you, the way he made you feel special… It made you feel like you had a fair fight. 

You even cried the whole way into your apartment, to your bed, and really, until you fell asleep from the exhaustion. You had been dreaming about building something with Jake, and you made a very serious decision to cut that dream short. You finally let yourself take control over him, and cut the chase off for both of you. The heat of the moment, the insecurity, the jealousy, exploded in a fiery argument. You felt played, you felt angry, you felt… misled. 

You woke up Sunday morning feeling empty. Your heart raced waiting to see if Jake would text you, would say something about how sorry he felt, or that he didn’t mean to hurt you. You were rotting in bed, smothered in blankets and grime. You feel empty. Your brain cycles over everything. You wish it was Friday night again and he was here, showing you brief moments of weakness…

Stroking his hair as he smiles at you. Caressing your thigh as a means to say thank you. Kissing you softly, holding you close. Finally giving you the form of aftercare he showed you Wednesday night. Staying the night with you. Playing with your hair to wake you up…

But that didn’t happen. And it wouldn’t now.

A message never came on Sunday, so you sat and rotted in bed. 

A message never came on Monday, or Tuesday, or Wednesday, or Thursday… 

And nothing today. 

Around nine, people started showing up to really drink. Each seat at the bar was full, and the tables were even starting to fill up too. The servers had tons of orders; large party groups treating themselves to more drinks than they should. Jake and you were jumping around the bar, trying to clear the orders. He brushed up on you a few more times, but you didn’t even have time to process or be angry at it with the amount of people that needed their precious alcohol. It's surprising to see how frustrated people get when they have to wait longer than five seconds for a drink to appear in their hands.

When you finally had a moment, you stepped off to the corner of the bar to make yourself your own drink. You couldn’t do this completely sober. You filled the glass with whiskey and put some cola in it, as secretly as you could. This was dangerous considering Chris would probably be checking your favorite whiskey during inventory, but you needed it. You took a few big sips, the dark liquor burning through the bubbles. The invigorating fire burns down your throat, forming a pit in your stomach. 

You were savoring this moment, drinking tonight was a means of self-care. You knew to be careful, not take too much at once, not to take too much at all. You just wanted a distraction, but it wasn’t really helping. You just wanted to convince yourself that numbing the feelings was better than feeling them all. You couldn’t numb everything though.

Seeing him jump around you in this new energy… It was hard to watch. Jake always looked so sexy behind the bar. He wore these tight dark wash jeans, black vans, and a black button-up that really showed off his tan. It made you mad how much you wanted him, how much you were thinking about your nights together. Thinking about how he corrected your behavior the first time you were petty with him. You felt better in his presence. Even though he never claimed any wrongdoing, you felt like his touch was his way of apologizing. 

You need to stay focused at the bar, but it was proving harder and harder to do. Every time you saw him, you thought of what Mariella said. You were creating scenarios in your head, convincing yourself that you weren’t the only one Jake was seducing. 

Why else would he go to Mariella’s? Why else would she be so upset? Wait, why was she upset about it? 

Maybe she had the same situation as him and you, and she was the lucky one who found out about the other woman. 

Is she why Jake wanted to take it slow? Is she the reason why he didn’t stay over that first night? 

She wouldn’t even look at him the night after he played, well actually, she wouldn’t look at either of us. She only brought us drinks, she wouldn’t talk or engage with us. She too was trying to focus on something other than him that night. Did she know he was playing that night? Is that why she agreed to cover his shift? Did he ask her to cover for him so that she could be the one there to support him from the sidelines? 

Why didn’t she tell you if anything was going on? After your first shift with Jake, you ran to her to tell her how sexy you thought he was. You even laughed about it together! She said you were crazy to go after a coworker, and that things would get messy. Was she trying to warn you then? 

When you came into the bar Wednesday night she wasn’t necessarily happy to see you there either. You specifically asked for a drink that wouldn’t get either of you in trouble, but somehow you did end up in trouble the next day. Did she tell Chris that you were asking for free drinks? How else would he know? We’re usually pretty good at hiding it or we always cover for each other. Was she upset at what happened that night? Knowing Jake had to drive you home?...

Could she sense something happened?

These thoughts are engrossing you. Breaking you down bit by bit. A lump starts forming in your throat. Your hands are getting clammy and you can feel the warmth taking you over. Picturing a teakettle, slowly starting to whistle and shake with the fire. Every time you turn down the stove, you pump it back up to high, screaming with the heat. You know you want to cry, but standing in the middle of a bar crying wouldn’t exactly solve anything. 

You swallow hard. Forcing the tears to pull back from your eyes. There would be no crying now. There’s a bar full of people and you have your job to focus on. You’re making it impossible for yourself by lingering on every little thought that pops through your mind. Each passing by like a highway billboard, advertising your mistrust and envy.

You rush back over to your drink and chug as much as you can. Your judgment is severely clouded, not from the liquor, but from the emotions. You feel the tension growing in you, tearing you apart limb by limb, nerve by nerve.

You swear that if you were lifted out of this bed, there would be a you-sized indent in the mattress from how you’ve sat there for so long. The bed became a hiding hole. You were sitting at the bottom in the dirt, trying to climb and find any way out. You put yourself in this hole to try and protect your feelings further, but it just made you feel worse. He was standing at the top of this hole, waving down to you; telling you to get out. 

You couldn’t trust Jake and that made you heartbroken. 

11:30 hits and you’d swear this bar became a fucking nightclub. College season is both the worst and the best time for Fleets. We have too much business coming in. 

Jake and you were handling it the best you could. You started pre-preparing the beer buckets; throwing 5 bottles in the tubs, and filling them with ice to pass along when they were ordered. Jake was taking his usual commanding role, telling people off, passing orders off to you, and-

“Back the fuck up!” Jake yells at the man reaching over the counter to touch your ass. You turn to look at the guy. He is quite literally standing over the bar, reaching his hand out, his finger inches from your ass. He’s stuck in a moment of shock, arm extended, completely caught. “Chris!” 

Chris is occupied at the table of regulars, but still, fortunately, hears Jake yell. Chris runs over from the table and removes the gentleman from his overhang on the counter. He yanks him off the bar stool, and escorts him not so gently out of the bar, with his friends in tow. The man is screaming at you, at Chris, and at Jake. 

“Fuck you! Fucking prude! Good thing your boyfriend’s there to save you!” His voice echoes into the night as Chris pushes him past the doors. 

You break your pause and continue making the vodka sodas in front of you. Trying your best to ignore what the man just said. Working in a bar like this means things like that will happen. It's not the first time someone has been caught trying to grab you, and you’re trying not to let it bother you. You didn’t want to feel protected by your ‘boyfriend’, because he wasn’t your boyfriend; you were alone. 

 Jake walks up behind you, resting his arm on your hip, checking on you. 

“I’m fine,” You bark. Trying to prove you’re not a damsel in distress. 

“Hey,” Jake nudges at you to turn to him, and you look back, scowling, “You sure?”

You close your eyes and breathe for a moment. You feel the heat building, growing, trying to come out of you. Your whole body is sweating, clamming up at the overwhelmed state you’re in. Trying to hold back your confusion, trying to hold back your anger at the man, trying to hold back the praise you desperately want to give to Jake. You wipe your hands on the front of your shirt and ball your fists up beside you. “Yes, Jake. I’m fine. He didn’t actually touch me.”

He looks at you with a sad gaze… Maybe he can see below the surface. He rubs your side briefly and gives you a firm squeeze before heading back over to the customers. You exhale slowly, trying to collect yourself. Why did he have to be so protective over you when you were so clearly trying not to be happy with him right now? He clearly wants something; wants you to feel trusted by him. You want to trust him, but it felt so hard to in this moment. 

If he didn’t tell you he was going to Mariella’s, then it obviously was something he didn’t want you to know about. He clearly was being secretive, hiding. You also realize, he probably knows that you know something. How could he not? If Mariella had that big of a reaction with you, then she probably had that big of a reaction with Jake. So here he was, being all calm, cool, and collected, meanwhile knowing that you know what he didn’t want you to know! 

You’re spiraling. 

You reach over and finish the rest of your cocktails. You grab the three vodka sodas in front of you and balance them between your fingers, gingerly carrying them over to the blonde party girls in the corner. 

“About time!” One of them snickers. 

“Next time, you can make them,” You snap back. The shocked look on their faces was priceless. That line would probably get you in trouble if anyone heard, but these girls are already too plastered to even form full cohesive sentences. “Also girls, the other bartender and I are a little concerned. We’re going to bring you some water and cut you off for now. Okay?”

They were understandably not happy about that. Your frustration was mixing with the liquid courage and taking you to an unhappy, and honestly, quite rude place. You tried not to care so much about it, but your heart was growing heavier with each interaction you were having. 

You wave over to Chris, who jumps and scurries to your side. Damage control. 

“Hey Chris, you see those girls behind me?” Chris turns to peer at the girls, quite obviously.

“Yeah?”

“Well, I think they’re probably done for now. They were being pretty snarky. Can you bring them some water?”

“Fine.” He grumbles. 

You sigh. Chris would probably ignore whatever those girls had to say about you since you forewarned him about their behavior first. It wasn’t your first time throwing the customers under the bus, but you didn't enjoy doing it. 

You woke up from your second nap of the day around four. It was still light outside, but just barely. The clouds were making the sky a dull blue. Your hair is a mess, tangled around you. Just by the way it feels against your face, you can tell it probably looks like you accidentally left your windows down at the carwash. Your body is achy and tired. These naps are not exactly refreshing; more depressing than anything else. 

It takes you a moment to realize that your phone has been buzzing. You look at the screen through sleepy eyes. 

No... Jake. 

He’s calling you. The buzz buzz buzz continues as you stare blankly at the screen. Pick. me. up! Answer. The. phone! You tap the screen, sending him to voicemail. That lumpy feeling is happening in your throat again. You feel the sting of emotions wanting to bubble out. Everything you have ignored since Sunday wants to be thrown out. You take your palms and hold them over your eyes, pressing hard; trying to physically repress your tears. 

Buzz buzz buzz. Buzz buzz buzz. 

His name is flashing again over your phone. No! You grab your phone and tap voicemail again. The tears are coming now. They burn going down the sides of your face. The skin is still raw from Saturday night’s blubbering. You use your arms to wipe the tears as fast as they are coming. Your breath is shaky, uncontrolled. You breathe in deeply and try to hold everything in for another moment; trying to collect yourself. 

Buzz buzz buzz… Buzz buzz buzz. 

“No!” You yell. You grab your phone and throw it into the pile of laundry on the other side of the bed. The faint buzzing continues, only now muffled on the clothes. The burn of feelings is crushing you. Rising again, forcing the heaving and uneasiness to return. You collapse into your hands, holding your face and allowing the tears to fall around you. You lower your head into your lap, folded and compressed in your distress. 

Beep! Beep!

Can you get one fucking second? Some idiot out in the parking lot is deciding now is the perfect time to be honking their horn. Do they not realize this is an apartment complex? It's not your friend’s house, it’s a fucking community of people who don’t want to hear that you’re impatient.

Beeeeep! Beeeeep!

You grunt, exhaling as much negativity into your groan as humanly possible. You remove your hands from your tear-soaked eyes and sit up from your stupor. The sadness inside of you is quickly forming into an aggressive mood, overwhelmed by all the excitement. You swing your legs over the bed and angrily stomp over to the window, forcing the glass up to give this asshole a piece of your mind. 

“Shut the fuck up!” You yell. 

A familiar voice shouts back up to you, “Maybe if you answer your fucking phone!”

You look down to the parking lot to find him there. Jake. In the same spot as he was Friday night. His arm is reached over to the horn, temping another honk. In his other hand, he’s waving his phone at you. He’s wearing black linen pants, a distressed t-shirt, and wearing sunglasses to block any emotions from his eyes. He looks so good.

Seeing him after all of this is painful. You want to jump out of the window and let him take you. The sneaky twinge of jealousy and frustration consumes any feelings of absolving him. You made your decision for a reason. 

“No!” You yell back to Jake and slam the window shut. 

You return to the bar, and Jake is clearly behind on orders. Breathe. Walk over to him. 

“Give me something,” You say, watching him line up the tickets. 

He hands you three orders. Beer, beer, and oh more beer. Easy. You slide over to the tap again and start pouring. 

“Hey!” Jake yells to you over the crowd and music, “Last time, you sure you’re good?”

You fill the glass and place it down in front of you. Freezing again, trying to collect yourself. Whenever someone asks if you’re good, they clearly know that you are not. That question pushes even a person who is good to a breaking point. But it was especially pushing you, someone who wasn’t good. No, you were not good. No. Not at all. He is the perfect specimen. The perfect gentleman. The perfect lover. Except, he wasn’t perfect. He was hiding. Lying. Holding back from you. 

You were also probably being delusional and tipsy at this point which didn’t help your feelings towards him. You wanted to still give your heart away to him, even if he stabbed it, broke it, and kicked it around. 

“Not right now,” You look at him, seeing genuine concern in his eyes, “Not now Jake, okay?”

He swallows and nods. 

Maybe he did know that you knew. 

Shut up. You’re spiraling. 

Why the fuck is he here? What is he doing?! What are you doing? You walk over to the bed and fold in half over the mattress. Screaming softly into the comforter. The sheets and mattress vibrate your aggression. You weren’t ready for another confrontation. It was easier to try and ignore everything and let the world slowly collapse in on you. What the fuck?!

Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz. 

Ignore it. You’re still upset. You don’t have anything to say to him, and if you tried to now, you’re not entirely sure what would come out of you. 

Beep! Beep!

Dont. Don’t engage. Remember, don’t give into his control.

Buzz buzz buzz... Buzz buzz buzz. 

Fuck! 

You clamor over the bed to reach for your phone, sprawling out in despair. His name is flashing across your screen, you try to use all of your willpower to not answer. But you cave, sliding to answer. 

“What?!” You snap into the phone.

“Come outside,” He commands.

“You know Jake,” You try not to sound choked up, “I’m really not in the mood.”

“Just come outside.” His voice sounds sincere, “Please?”

Your heart drops upon hearing his tone. Maybe he’s going to apologize. Maybe he’s going to make it alright. 

“Fine.” You reply through grated teeth. 

You don’t even bother to dress yourself. Some might consider this look cozy fashion. Grey sweats, band T-shirt, messy hair. You’re practically dressed for a night out! Anger really brings out a moody sarcastic version of you.  

You begrudgingly head out into the hallway, each step forceful trying to extinguish the anger. You push past the glass doors and head down the steps into the parking lot. You walk over to him, head hanging low, trying to avoid his eyes. You take your last step in his direction, stopping and planting yourself a few feet away from him. You cross your arms, trying to physically exude your uncomfortable feelings. You look up at Jake. 

He’s matching you, standing with his arms crossed. Waiting for you. He seems disappointed in your attitude and probably also your attire.

“Get in the car.” He points to the open passenger-side door. 

“Why?” You grill. 

He walks over to the driver’s side and opens his door to get in. 

“C’mon,” He presses, “Just get in the car.” 

You drop your arms and give in to Jake. You resent how easily you cave into him, especially after everything that’s happened. Everything you’ve been mulling over. 

The last call finally happens around one. For the most part, the bar is emptying, the music has stopped and only the hushed voices of dates & friends remain. Jake hasn’t checked in on you since you kind of told him to back off. You felt bad for being mean to him when he was trying to be nice to you, but you didn’t want anything else to come out accidentally. 

You start to wipe down the counters and collect the empty glasses. Jake finishes closing out tabs and trying to rush people out. 

Chris walks over to Jake and whispers something to him. Jake is visibly disappointed in what Chris is telling him. You listen closely, trying not to be obvious. 

“Not tonight Chris.” Jake pleads. 

“C’mon bud,” Chris begs, “Last time. It’s an emergency.”

“Fine. Fine.” Jake points his finger to Chris, “Last time I’m saving your ass.”

Chris passes over the keys to the bar and Jake snatches them from his hand; shoving them in his pocket and walks over to you.

“I gotta close up. Can you stay?” He asks. 

I guess staying would provide the perfect opportunity for alone time with Jake. “Yeah,” you respond.

The car ride has been completely silent. You didn’t dare to break the tension. You didn’t have anything left to say to him unless he had something to say to you. 

You catch a glance of yourself in the sideview mirror. Yikes. You don’t look so good. Your eyes are red and puffy, your hair is clearly unbrushed, and you look miserable. Fair, considering how you’ve spent the last few days, but still not your usual polished self. You turn to look at Jake. His hair is doing that stupid perfect windswept thing again. Fuck. You look away and watch the road. 

You have no idea where he’s taking you and you’re starting to get concerned about that… The usual houses & buildings on each side have started to stagger, each mile becoming more remote. 

You walk back to the office to put the cash register drawers in the safe. Chris left it open for you so he wouldn’t have to give out the passcode. You drop them in the safe, and each box clamors down into the metal box. You push the door shut and lock the electronic safe. 

You walk back out into the hallway, trying to prepare yourself for your next move. You know the bar is empty now, the tasks are done. Jake is finishing returning the stools underneath the bar. Instead of immediately pouncing at him, you walk over to the bar and take two clean rocks glasses out. You pull a bourbon off the shelf and pour each of you a drink. He looks at you, confused for a moment. 

“Jake… Please sit,” You ask. The tones of disappointment are hard to shake now that the right time has come. 

You put down his drink and pass it towards him across the bar. He sits down on the stool and accepts the glass from you. 

“What?-” He begins to ask. 

“Jake.” You cut him off, “Mariella said something to me.”

The words are out. The anxiety is consuming you. The rage, the confusion, the insecurities, the frustration, all of it taking you entirely. Your arms are shaking. Your legs feel wobbly and unsure if they can hold you. A pit drops in your stomach. It feels like you’re the first car on a rollercoaster, heading straight down, closing your eyes, hoping you don’t fly off the tracks. You try your best to maintain eye contact with Jake, analyzing every facial muscle, and trying to read him. 

He takes a sip of the bourbon, holding it in his mouth a moment, before taking one big gulp. “What did she say?”

He’s too calm for your liking. He doesn’t even seem to be bothered at the thought of Mariella talking to you. Are you overreacting? You don’t like the way this situation is making you feel. 

“She said,” You take a deep breath, trying to not sound shaky or upset, “Well, she said you were at her house last night.”

You wash down the words with a swig of alcohol, trying to mellow yourself out. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be-” Jake reaches for your glass, and you snap your hand back, clutching the drink to your chest. 

“Jake.” You scold. Reminding him he should be responding to your statement, not trying to baby you. 

He sighs and covers his mouth, rubbing his face. His expression gives away signs of guilt. He looks down at the counter, taps a few fingers, and looks back up to you, “Yes. I was at her house last night.”

Fuck. 

A flurry of raw emotion floods you. You grip the edges of the counter, holding on for dear life. You bite your lip to try and keep it from trembling. Your eyes are welling up and you feel stupid standing like an idiot in front of him. You were an idiot to think that he was yours. You were an idiot to think that someone like him could want just you. You were an idiot to think that he wasn’t trying to seduce any other coworkers. You were an idiot for not getting to him sooner. And you were an idiot for letting him have you. 

“After you saw me?” You croak. Your voice is unfortunately shaking, unable to prevent the upset tone from presenting itself. 

“Yes.” His answers are cold, stripped of any warmth.

Shit. You idiot. You’re so stupid. Of course, he went to her after you. That’s why he rushed out in a panic, scared to disappoint her. You choke down the remainder of your bourbon. 

“Why?” 

“I had to.” He states. 

“What the fuck does that mean?” Your answers are starting to be harsher, the alcohol pushing you into a mean-spirited tone. You’re frustrated and angry that he’s not comforting you, that he’s only doing the bare minimum. 

“Hey,” He snaps. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh really?” You snap back, “You want me to believe after seeing how she reacted, and how quick you were to rush out last night that nothing happened?...” Jake sits there for a moment, taking in your punches. Not fighting back, not saying anything, “I believe it was you who once said nothing doesn’t mean nothing, Jake.”

Jake exhales, trying to keep his cool exterior, which is pissing you off even more, “If I say nothing happened, I mean it.” 

You grab your face in your hands. Trying to hold yourself together a little longer. The echoes of his words and Mariellas echo in your head. You feel ashamed, you feel alone. You want him to reach across the bar and tell you everything is all right and that you’re his, and you don’t have to worry about her. That he wants you to be his, that he needs it. That no one else in the world has compared to you, that he’s been waiting for the right time to tell you. 

But now this complicates everything. Your head is spinning. Gauging whether to trust him or to push him away. Your insecurities flood through you, reminding you that he wasn’t ready for this. He didn’t want the drama. He didn’t want the insecurity: he wanted easy, he wanted the chase, he wanted the fun. You couldn’t be easy when you knew all you could think about was him. And here you were now, thinking about him with someone else. 

The road ends in a small cul-de-sac by a nature trail. He shuts the car off and walks over to your door to open it. You sit further back into the seat, scared of the situation. Scared of his silence. 

“C’mon.” He reaches his hand out to you. 

You hesitate for a moment, meeting his eyes, showing your distaste. You grab his arm and let him lift you out of the seat. 

“What is going on?” Jake finally breaks your silence. 

You pull your head away from your dripping hands. You wipe them on the front of your jeans. 

“Jake I can’t do this.” You look dead into his eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” He asks. 

This feminine rage urges through you. You’ve been in his control for too long. You’ve let him call the shots, you’ve waited for him to make you his prey. You waited for him to text you first. You waited for him to make the first moves. You let him tell you what he wanted, and he let you forget what you needed. 

“Jake I don’t believe you!” You snap. Every inch of your heart is fracturing. You think about all the conversations you’ve had at the bar, every night you’ve worked together in harmony. Every moment where you’ve been close to him. Every moment you’ve been his. Only to be shot back down to one of his. “I have so many feelings about you, too many. I am jealous. I am upset that you didn’t stay the night still. I thought we were starting, I thought everything that I had hoped for was finally coming true. I have been waiting months for you to notice me. Every Saturday hoping you’d look at me a little longer than the last. I’ve lived the chase that you want so badly. I lived it every weekend, trying to play at every angle. I’ve been waiting for you, and you don’t even seem like you want me!”

Jake reaches to grab your arm, “Hey, why don’t you-”

“No! No Jake. I don’t want to calm down. I’m frustrated. I’m confused. I’m confused especially as to why you went to see Mariella last night. I’m confused as to why one of my friends is mad at me now. I’m confused as to why the boy I like was so worried about disappointing her and had to rush away from me to go see her. Something had to happen, and if it didn’t last night, it had before. And I am so hoping I’m not right. Because that would mean, you went behind her back to see me, and she went behind my back knowing I wanted you.”

You take a deep breath. Everything is on the table. Your poker face is gone. Your cool, chill, fun side is gone. You are upset. You’ve revealed yourself too early on. The liquid courage has taken its hold on you, becoming a truth serum. You feel so stupid for it all. 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake scoffs. He takes a swig from the bourbon. 

“That’s it?” You say through tears, “That’s all you can say to that?”

“What do you want me to say? You want me to be perfect?” He leans into you, “I am not going to be who you want me to be, ever.”

His tone is serious, and cold, and makes you want to crawl up and lay on the floor. You wipe the tears from your eyes, and walk around the bar to him, standing at his eye level. You put your finger on his chest, pinning him, “I don’t need you to be perfect, I just wanted you. And you fucking ruin it every time. No matter how well you ‘take care of me’ you only come around when you get something from it.”

“Don’t forget who started those games,” He pulls your finger off of his chest, “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me? You’re telling me you weren’t in it for the sex either? You seemed to also really enjoy those moments.”

His digs hurt. He makes you feel small in this moment. You know he’s right. But that doesn’t excuse how hurt you still are. You do want him. You did need him. Sexually. The tension that has been fabricated in your chest was imploding. You take your hand back from Jake and stare at him for a moment. Both of you are full of rage… And lust. 

He grabs your waist firmly and pulls you into him. Your hair hangs over the edge of his face; you’re so close… You look down in his lap to see how restricted he is against his jeans. 

“Look at me.” He instructs. 

You lift your eyes to meet his. An insatiable look of malice and desire brews behind the brown. An intensity that you haven’t seen has grown inside of him. Every time he’s played this dominant role, you’ve known that he wasn’t actually angry or upset with you, but this time… This time it was different. You loved it. You loved how you could actually see something behind his eyes, see the passion; he felt something because of what you said. This moment of deep, intense passion is almost enough to make you forgive him, but you still aren’t ready to let go. 

“Jake,” You whine. 

He pulls you further into him, taking his hand to the back of your head, and pulling you into his lips; your faces mashing together. The anger is like an aphrodisiac, making his taste insatiable. He stands, kicking the stool back behind him. It clatters to the floor, sending echoes through the bar. He shifts his arm around from your head to your neck and holds it tightly between his grip. You pull away from him, trying to choke at the air. You reach up and grab out to his stomach, trying to paw at him. 

“You’re not going to do this to me,” He says through grated teeth. He relieves his hand from your neck and pushes you over the counter, your gut wedged into the counter. 

“Jake!” You exclaim. 

He brushes himself across your jeans, letting you know he’s taking control. He takes his hands and runs them across your thighs, up your legs, and across your stomach. He runs his fingers towards the button on your jeans, quick to undo it along with the zipper. 

“Not my name,” He barks to you. 

You feel burdened by the weight of the situation, but you can’t deny feeling his touch is softening the blow. He reaches down the front of your pants, his hands just barely meeting your warming clit. He uses his force to pull you back towards him. Allowing you to better feel his cock pressed against your ass.  

“Sir!” You yell. 

He backs himself away from you, and a quick pained smack raps across your ass. Tears start forming in your eyes. You close them, trying to hide the glossiness. 

“This is what my slut gets when she talks like that to me.” 

“Please!” You yell, through gasps. 

“Color.”

You know you can take it, and you know you want to take it. Feeling him want you is the only thing holding you. “Green!” You cry. 

Another quick hand marks your ass. You hold onto the counter for dear life. 

“Do you like feeling this way?” He asks, “Do you like being punished?”

You want to scream ‘no’. You don’t like making him angry, you want him to be happy with you. But secretly you both know that his dark side is more enticing. It's addicting. Having him act this way is the only way you know he wants you. He’s right you won’t get a soft Jake, you won’t get the perfect boyfriend. But that’s not what you want right now. You want this frustration to be taken from you; taken from him too. Most importantly you know having him this way is the reason you’re starting to get wet. “Yes!” You squeal. You prepare yourself for another hit, but nothing comes. 

You start to lift yourself back up, easing your gut away from the rounded counter. Before you can even get inches off the surface, a hand comes down on your head, pressing your face into the cold wooden bar. The smell of cleanser is burning your nose. You feel everything in that moment. The counter that’s pressing into you, the stickiness of it attaching to the side of your face, the strong hand holding you down, and your body collapsing over his will. Jake assumes his mounting position behind you again, leaning into your ear. 

“When will you ever learn?” He asks. 

“Never sir,” You spit back between pressed lips. 

Jake scoffs and releases his hand from your head, moving it down to the small of your back. He takes his hand and yanks your pants down to your ankles. Your ass is bare and red, presenting itself to him. 

He takes his free hand to bring it back to your front, dancing his fingers over your tender clit. You can feel the warmth, the wetness, growing. Your brain is telling you that this is what you need, “This,” He says, applying pressure, reaching further down your pussy, “Is mine.”

“Sir-”

“No.” He barks back, “Color.”

“Green…” You whine. You know you want this. You want him. You need his touch, need to feel secure in this moment. The thoughts of him you’ve been having are consuming you, you want your jealousy to be fucked out of you entirely. 

You hear the jingle of his belt as he takes off his own pants. You dare not move or open your eyes to see. He’s groaning softly, you can hear him start to take himself into his hand. You listen to him lubricate himself, the wet sloshing sounds filling your ears, hearing each pump of his cock in his hands. He presses himself against you again, meeting the threshold of your needy heat. He takes his hands and rubs them over your hips, making large slow movements over your body. He’s teasing you entirely. 

He knows what he wants to do to you, but he has to make it as painfully slow as possible. He rolls his hand over your hips and begins directing towards your cunt. Each second that passes is getting slower, and slower until he slips his middle and ring finger inside of you. 

You gasp, not expecting his fingers to breach you so soon. He takes his other hand to grab your face, his fingers sprawled out on either side of your jaw. “See?” He asks. He slides his fingers out from you, and you open your eyes, “You want this…” He lifts his fingers to show you the dripping wet digits, “You’re already wet for this.”

He’s right, you are. You knew it all night, every glance at him made you want him more. When he saved you from that asshole you wanted him right then. You had been fighting your need for him to touch you. Each moment that he wasn’t touching you, you wanted him more. 

“I know sir,” You reply. 

He takes the fingers and puts them in your mouth. You take them in, suckling up to the knuckles. His rough fingers linger in your mouth for a moment, making sure that you take everything in. He slides them out of your mouth and proceeds to move them back between your shaking legs. He doesn’t insert them, but rather teases your clit, touching just lightly enough to drive you mad. 

“This is what you get,” He snaps. 

Without warning his cock breaches you, and he is by no means gentle with you. Pushing himself in, the hilt of his shaft meeting your body. He grunts aggressively feeling you envelop him completely. A sharp breath escapes you, feeling completely unprepared for his size. He’s stronger, rougher than he had been with you before. A new energy has taken him.

He grabs hard onto your hips, taking a hold you know will leave marks worse than before. He’s using your body as leverage to rock himself in and out of you. Each stroke comes at you harder, pushing your body further into the counter. He’s fucking you into oblivion. 

“Please!” You moan. 

He starts to pick up his motion, pounding you harder against him. Your groans are loud, echoing through the empty bar. Your unprepared pussy is aching, feeling yourself stretch over him, trying to adapt to his size. With minimal warm-up, he’s testing your body's limits. Your knuckles are red and tight squeezing on the edges of the counter. Your breath is sustained to limited gasps, unable to take in too much with the counter being wedged underneath you. Bouncing forward, face gripping to the bar, knowing there would be no way to make yourself more comfortable. 

Jake reaches up and grabs a chunk of your hair, pulling it back from your scalp. You’re arched completely, stomach tightened against the edge of the bar. You adjust your hands to try and hold yourself from completely cutting your stomach off. He reaches his other hand under your stomach, finding a new way to leverage himself further in you. 

“Fuck!” You gasp. 

“Color!” He demands. 

“Green!” Your whole body is in blissful agony. Not feeling any pain, but pure raw pleasure. He’s swiveling his hips, moving his cock inside of you. Each stroke forcefully passes over your g-spot, sending signals of complete dopamine to your brain. 

His soft deep grunts are signaling he’s close, and you are too. The pounding is becoming overstimulating; needing a release. You moan with each pump, letting him know you're on the brink of boiling over. He releases your hair and scoops you up by your neck, not grabbing it but holding it upwards to maintain his positioning. 

Through ragged breaths, he still tries to control you, “You don’t cum… until I do.” 

“Please, sir!” You protest. You can feel the heat and building happening within you. Your legs grow weaker, shaking against his body. You squeeze onto anything your hands can reach, his arm, the counter… You almost can’t hang on. You tighten yourself and try to hold back any orgasm. The night has been needing a release like this, a moment of selfish pleasure. You wanted him to use you like this, to remind you that he still wanted you. 

“Fuck!” He wails. In a few last pumps, he spills into you, and you let yourself go. Completely. A loud pleasured moan escapes from your lips. Your body convulses at the final feeling. A warm hot burn caressing you, sending tingles through your muscles. Your body collapses in his arms as the two of you mix together. 

He places you on the counter gently, careful to not let your head completely smack against the surface. He slowly pulls out of you, both of you gasping at the over-stimulating sensation. You watch him from the corner of your eye, trying to regain your breath. 

He carefully tucks himself back into his jeans and falls back onto the stool. You pry yourself from the counter and slowly pull your jeans back on. The feeling of denim pressing against your aching pussy doesn’t feel great, but you’d rather not be the only one still showing off. 

The release you had been wishing for finally came, but you didn’t feel the sour memory of dishonesty leave with the pleasure. The feelings of euphoria start to pass. Washing away from you like a tide being pulled in. The satisfaction swooshes away from you, leaving behind the mess that it had tried to cover. 

The clarity of the situation clouds back over you, still wondering about the unanswered questions. Feeling him take you was exactly what you wanted, but it still didn’t give you everything you needed. He did want your body, but it wasn’t clear whether he wanted you. He didn’t tell you the full truth or really answer anything. All he did was attempt to distract you so you’d shut up and forget the whole thing. 

The lust has quickly left your body and mistrust begins to consume you again. You try to engage with him after this moment, hoping that maybe the sex will have loosened him up. You walk over to him; he’s nursing a few sips of the remaining bourbon, trying to calm himself. His breathing is deep, exhausted. You reach out to him, and he grabs your hand to pull you towards him, wedging your legs between his. 

You reach out to move the hair out of his face, lightly brushing your fingers across his forehead, moving the airborne pieces back to their rightful place. A ritual of sorts for you two. You pat down his head, matting his hair back into shape. Trying to find the courage to speak again.  

“Jake…” You coo, “What was going on with you and Mariella?” 

He pulls his head away from your hand and looks at you with a disgusted expression.

“Nothing.” He replies, still in his dominant form. “You have to get over this.”

He had you where he wanted you. But you also had him cornered in a lie. You know if he can’t even tell you what happened, then he was hiding behind an excuse. The rage is starting to fill you again. Any progress that was made from your earlier fulfillment was gone, the envy was in full effect. You deserved the truth. Considering how much of yourself you’ve given to him; your body, your control, your thoughts… All of it belonged to him, and he couldn’t even amuse you with the truth. 

You pull away from his legs, scoffing, brewing with irritation. You wrap your hands around your face, trying to clasp onto the last bits of sanity that remained

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You throw your hands in the air towards him, “You can’t even answer that question? After I just did all of that for you?” 

“For me?” He scoffs, “You were the one getting worked up so I would do that to you!”

“No Jake, I wasn’t getting worked up so you would fuck me!”

Jake stands to assert himself again, “Sure seemed like it…”

“No, that’s not what that was. I didn’t want this to be the outcome, but after the fact, I was hoping that one little moment of intimacy would maybe compel you to tell me the fucking truth.”

“I don’t even know what else to tell you.” He sits back down on the stool, dismissing your worries, voiding his emotions. 

“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”

You swivel and turn to leave the bar. The tears stream over your eyes and your breath becomes ragged. Each step away from him feels like it takes forever. It feels like you’re walking away from the most important thing that’s happened to you. You’re walking away from the passion, from the beauty, from the sincerity. In just a few days Jake had made you feel like no other man had, he meant more to you than he probably even realized. He couldn’t even see how much of an impact he’s made on you, and judging by his reaction, maybe you’ve done nothing to him. Each step is a soft goodbye from a future with Jake, but it's also a goodbye to pure trouble. 

A loud shattering sound pops up behind you. You snap your neck to see the cause. Jake had smashed his drink; the amber liquid mixing in with the shards on the bar floor. Jake doesn't linger to see the mess he made, instead already heading out to the front door. The trail of glass stays put behind him. 

His anger pains you. His upset pains you even more. His reaction means that there was more to say, but you wouldn’t listen and he wouldn’t tell you. 

You run out the back door into the cold fall night. The breeze frosting the wet edges of your eyes. You feel so stupid, so dramatic. The whole world is imploding on your heart. 

He pulls you through the trail, practically tugging your wrist the whole way through. At this point, you’d wished that you put on better shoes, or maybe brought bug spray. Each step brings a crunch of fresh fallen leaves underneath your feet, clinging onto your fuzzy slippers. 

“Jake-” 

“Wait,” He says, pulling you harder through the brush. 

The trees get scarce, opening up to more sky. Before long, a field appears in front of you. The grass is tall, crisp, and dying, brushing past the legs of your sweats. The wind is blowing a soft chill breeze; the same autumn air that woke you on that Thursday morning and the same air that touched you Saturday night. 

He yanks you through, creating a path through the green. The ground is soft beneath your slippers; the damp dirt creates a light brown halo around the edges of your soles. Still being pulled by your wrist you try your best to keep up with his large strides through the grass. It feels like you are being waded through a pool of brush, slowly drowning through the field. He grabs at you harder and pulls you nearly off of your feet. 

“Jake!” You protest, yanking your arm back from his grip.

He turns to look at you. You grab your wrist and massage it, trying to ease the light red marks on your wrist. He looks bashful for a moment, seeing the dull pain he caused. He takes a deep breath and paces closer to you. 

“Yell.” He commands. 

You look up from your wrists a shoot him a confused look.

“What?!”

“What are you upset about?” 

“Jake,” You challenge, “I don’t want to do this right now, take me home.”

“I’m not taking you home yet. I asked what you’re upset about.”

You sigh and throw your hands down. You feel like a child whose parents just asked them to tell them about their feelings. This whole situation feels childish. “Jake I’m upset because I feel like I’m not the only one you're sleeping with and that makes me jealous.”

“Okay, and?”

You growl. Seeing him so calm again presents flashbacks to Saturday night. Tossing your stomach around like a punching bag. A welling of tears starts to present behind your eyes, but you try to breathe through it, “And!” You try to hold back the choking, but it's becoming visibly more noticeable, “And I’m mad about that because if something did happen, then you weren’t honest with me, and my friend wasn’t honest with me.”

He crosses his arms for a moment, watching you. It makes you feel uneasy when he does this, you feel insane; like he’s judging you for having real emotions. He gestures out into the field, “You’re mad at me, so yell.”

“Jake, I’m done yelling.” You admit defeat. “Can I go home now?”

“No.”

“Jake.” 

“If you’re done, then is it my turn to yell?” He asks. 

You fear for what he has to say. He could very easily make you look like an overdramatic woman, putting thoughts into your head, and making it all up. In some ways maybe you were, but you always knew when your gut was right and something was going on. If that’s really why he brought you here, then you definitely made the right decision to get out. 

You try to soften your tone and prevent any backlash from him, “Jake…”  

He takes in a deep breath and turns away from you to scream into the distance. His anger trailing with the wind, being carried away in a gust. It's a long and painful yell. Deep, full of frustration, and tension. He trails off, breaking his voice. The long note extinguishes with a sweep of the calling air.

He clears his throat and turns to you. 

“It's your turn now.”

“No!” You exclaim. 

You stand clenching your fists. You want to yell. You really do. You’re so angry about everything too. Angry for letting your lust get in the way of a real conversation. Angry that Mariella is somehow holding one over you. Angry that Jake couldn’t admit anything. Angry for telling yourself to stay away. Angry that you feel alone. Angry…

You rotate away from Jake and let out a gut-wrenching wail. Saturday night bubbles through you. 

“Fuck this.” Tears stream down your eyes. “Fuck you, Jake! You lead me on, you make me feel important, and you can’t even do me the justice of telling me the fucking truth! I’m just an easy fuck for you huh? One of your little sluts you can toy and play with!” The anger is crescendoing, “Fuck you for making me feel this way!”

Friday night surges through. 

“Yes,” He answers. He beams at you, letting you soak in his happiness, “Be good for me until then, okay?” He pulls you in for one last kiss. When he breaks away, he looks at you another moment before rubbing your cheek and turning away. 

Watching him leave is always depressing. This night confirms your feelings for Jake are far past just sexual. The promise of seeing him tomorrow is the only thing keeping you together. 

Thursday morning’s pain seeps out last. 

“Jake, stop!” you yell to him, scared he might actually leave. His hand is on the knob but he's not turning it. “Why didn’t you stay?” You finally asked it. 

Your anger for being alone is releasing itself. Your anger at Jake is releasing. He’s brought you here, he came for you. 

You let the cry echo through the field. The wind taking your sorrows away, cleaning your spirit with a bitter touch. You drop to your knees; just barely catching yourself with your hands. Jake walks over to you and puts his hand on your shoulder. He uses you as a crutch to lower himself next to you. 

“This is where I come when my bandmates piss me off,” He explains. You turn to look at him. Your head is clear, but your eyes are glossing over. “This is where I came Saturday night.”

You rest your hand on his knee, “I just wanted you to tell me the truth,” You cry. 

“I know,” He turns to meet your eyes, “You were right. It wasn’t nothing.” You pull your hand from his lap and turn further towards him to engage in his honesty. “Mariella and I did sleep together… Once….” He seems ashamed to admit the truth, “It was after my first week at the bar before I met you.”

“Oh.” You’re disappointed to hear the truth finally come out. You hoped deep down that something really never happened. You hoped that Jake hadn’t given into Mariella’s vixen-like nature. Jake looks down, embarrassed. 

“She wouldn’t leave me alone after that. She kept calling me and texting me. I played along for a little, trying to prevent things from being awkward... But then I met you,” He reaches for your hand, “And I knew I wasn’t ready for anything so I didn’t know what to do.” He passes his fingers over your hand. It's undeniable that he’s not used to being this vulnerable. His hands are warm and shaking slightly, “So I waited, and tried to keep Mariella quiet.”

He finally looks back up to you, an awkward and unsettled look flashing across his face. “Then the band really started to play more, and I knew the bar had their live music on Wednesdays… and I knew you always went. I asked Chris to let us play since he owed me anyway. He told me we could have that Wednesday and he let us take the time.

“When the night finally came, I hoped that you would still show up. I selfishly thought that maybe you only came in on Wednesdays to hang out with me, but I was proven wrong.” You laugh, knowing that he was far from the truth on that, “When I saw you at the bar, ugh. I finally had to take you home that night. I could see the way you were looking at me and I just knew I had to do something about it. I’m not the kind of guy who likes waiting.”

 “For someone who doesn’t like waiting, you sure seem to drag a lot of unwanted stuff out,” You blurt.

He sits there for a moment gritting his teeth through an embarrassed expression. “Fair point… You really knocked me off my game. As soon as I figured out you had a thing for me, I got all weird.”

You blush, hearing him talk about you like this is new and different; the kind of Jake you can trust. You play with him a little to lighten the mood, “How could you possibly figure out that I liked you?”

“It was quite obvious. Do you realize how bad of a staring problem you have?” He jokes.

You gawk at him, stunned by the truth, and push his arm. “Shut up!” You feel the color rising in your cheeks. 

He laughs and his usual Jake smirk splays across his face. It felt good to see him smile like that again. 

“I just knew that night, things would be different. I didn’t want to stay because I wasn’t sure if I was ready for it all at once- I’m still not sure if I am. But I felt even more guilty laying in your bed that night because I knew Mariella still wanted something from me too. I didn’t want to give you too much before closing that off completely. I didn’t want her to get any ideas. She already knew we went home together that night and was pissed.”

“She should be fucking jealous,” You joke, nudging him.

He laughs, and smiles smugly, “She was, trust me…” He looks up to the sky, “I told her I would talk to her Friday night,” He looks back at you, “Before you got all horny and texted me.”

“Oh my god!” You playfully push him again. 

He laughs again, squeezing your hand harder, “Trust me if I didn’t have to go tell her off, I would’ve been there with you all night… I saw that puzzle in your kitchen and it was killing me to not finish it.” 

You smile at him. Thinking about a domesticated form of Jake makes your heart warm. A possibility. “That puzzle still isn’t done.”

“Perfect.” He pulls you into his lap. Holding you softly, resting his arms over the tops of your thighs, “But before we do that puzzle, I have to tell you the rest of my story, okay?”

“Okay.”

He holds the side of your face to turn it to his. “I told her that I wanted you. Okay? She’s jealous that I chose you… Did you hear that? I chose you, okay?”

Your heart is finally lifting out of the hole. The dirt that you once sat in was growing fields of flowers, healing you. He’s lifting you out of the hole, stretching out his hand to grab you, closing the gap. “Okay…”

“I’m not saying I’m ready to be your perfect happy sweet boyfriend or whatever, okay? But there is no one else, and I’m sorry if you thought that.”

I’m sorry. The words you had been craving. He was owning up. It felt like a massive bandage across your heart. He might not be able to give you everything you needed, but this was becoming a fairytale. Sitting in this field with him was serene, healing, natural… 

It was your turn to apologize next. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I should have trusted you.” You melt into his shoulder. 

“I shouldn’t have been such an asshole… Oh, and don’t worry, I’ll get you back for the yelling.” 

The sun is starting to set around you. This moment is pure bliss. It's soul-cleansing. He’s brought you to a space of his own, cleared his mind with you, cleared his conscience. It felt good to forgive him. 

“Do you want to come over to my place?” He asks, rubbing your shoulder. 

➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-➹-

Taglist!: (I love and appreciate all of you for wanting to be on this)

@jakekiszkasbuttsweat @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gretavansara @sanguinebats @awkwardlyamazing2000

#jake kiszka smut #jake greta van fleet #jake kiskza x reader #jake kiszka #greta van smut #greta van fleet #greta van fleet smut #gvf smut #gvf fic #jake kiszka fanfic #gvf fanfiction

[adorawritesalot]

yo. hi. mh boys w a streamer s/o?:)

hello everyone, excuse my sudden disappearance:( i have really important exams coming up and i barely have time for myself between studying!! promise i'll get better at writing regularly afterwards🙏

anyway, thank you for the submission! sorry i didn't send you the preview, it's your ask anyway:) love u tomi!!!!!

Alex:

To be honest, he seems like a streamer guy. What do you think he was doing for almost a year before he called Jay again? Streamed Minecraft or something (imagine it was possible back then for me, please).

Anyway, he would be so supportive. He is your #1 fan (but wouldn't say it outloud).

"Hey Alex, I've been thinking about buying this Stream De-" "TAKE MY MONEY"

Would kill anyone who says it's not a real job, because he sees the work you put into it, the tears from receiving hate, and the inevitable happiness it brings you.

If you asked him to join you on stream one day, he would almost piss himself.

"ME??? On stream??? With my FAVOURITE streamer??? YES!" In a teasing voice, but he is secretly overly excited.

Jay:

He is very happy for you when you start becoming famous, because he sees how happy it makes YOU. He loves seeing your dreams come true in front of his eyes.

He would get you the best camera the world has to offer. Is there not a good enough one for your pretty face? Fuck it, he makes it.

A sweetheart when it comes to making you feel better after a hate raid. Draws you a bath, orders your favourite food (he cannot cook for the life of him), cuddles you in bed.

If you asked him to do a stream with you one day, he would gladly agree. He would be nervous at first, but then he would just goof around and you both would have a great time.

Brian:

He would like to just watch your streams while he works on his line delivery or something. Your voice soothes him, and that is exactly what he needs.

Would beg you to do one of those "I gave my viewers 500$ to spend on Amazon" streams. Then you reminded him that you would actually have to have those 500$. That shut him up pretty quickly.

Sometimes you think your chat likes him more than you. When he occasionally comes into your streaming room in the middle of a stream with food, your chat starts spamming his name and various versions of greetings.

One "Hey chat!" and a grin later, he is now playing with you next to him. Be ready for more streams with him! He really enjoyed it and chat did too.

Tim:

Tim wouldn't really get why you are willingly putting your face (or just yourself as a person) out on the internet. Still, he would be very supportive. He always is.

Would sit with you in your streaming room. He loves your voice.

Reminds you that you don't have to do this job if it mentally drains you after every hate raid. He is very protective of you, and he wouldn't want to lose you to a bunch of jerks on the internet.

You talk about him on stream a lot, so chat is, of course, clamouring for a boyfriend stream.

He eventually agrees, but he doesn't yet know what he's gotten himself into.

It's a cooking stream. And you basically just do what he is telling you to do while looking at eachother cutely. Beware of the edits!

#marble hornets #tim marble hornets #tim masky #tim wright deserves a hug #tim wright x reader #x reader #creepypasta fandom #lmao help #mh tim #i love tim so much #brian thomas deserves a hug #brian thomas x reader #mh brian #mh alex #alex kralie x reader #jay merrick #mh jay #jay merrick x reader #i tried #alex marble hornets #marble hornets brian #mh

[brineffxiv]

I can't believe it. I think I'm still in shock. I'm in the past. The ancients' world. The world unsundered.

(accidentally left this picture in the last post when I cut it in half. Pretend I didn't do that please, XD)

Getting some fridge logic that modern peoples probably have the Ascians to thank for Aetherytes. Yes, we reverse-engineered the technology from the Allagans, but the ancients clearly have the same structures. Seems to me the logical middle step is that the Ascians assisted the Allagans in developing the technology.

...Anyway, that's not important right now...

Argos! And...

Venat? It must be. That's the only person I can think she could be. And it makes sense. She looks to have the same appearance as the form Hydaelyn took on the boat. Oh boy. I am filled with nervousness at the prospect of meeting her...

And finally, you must be Hermes. And... I don't have the slightest clue who the little bird person is.

I do not spy any likely candidates for Elidibus in this zone's preview, despite knowing I must meet him at some point. Hmmm...

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

I don't even know if I want to tell you. I don't even know if I can.

How do I explain what you became? That I killed you? How do I tell you that you will soon lose everything dear to you in the entire world, spend over twelve thousand years fighting to restore a fraction of it, and ultimately fail?

Hythlodaus made me a robe out of butterflies! I am never taking this off. Aaaaa!

Hythlodaeus also advises that, if anyone asks, I tell them I'm Azem's familiar. What, uh, what exactly has ancient me been up to to earn this sort of reputation?

Yes, please, assume I have no common sense. I wish to know ALL the worldbuilding details.

We are searching for Hermes by appearance, which is a novelty! He apparently has short, dark hair. I see I was correct in assuming that's who he was in the preview.

Found him!

Hermes is working by some pools, with creatures that appear to be axolotls?

Oh! Um, hi?

You're adorable. Okay. I'll be your friend. You talk a bit funny, are you intended to be neurodivergent?

Oh neat! You can talk in my mind? That--

Wait. Hang on. I see that "Hear, Feel, Think" in there.

Suddenly you are ominous.

Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch catch up with me, and the former makes introductions. Hythlodaeus already has a working relationship with Hermes through their jobs, though it has been some time since they have seen each other in person.

Hermes seems... apprehensive upon being introduced to a member of the Convocation.

Meteion's avid interest in me saves me from having to make my own introduction, and to explain why I'm here. I get to learn about her instead! She is a personal project of Hermes' that he hasn't submitted for approval yet. Her aether is really thin. Her name means "shooting star". All very important pieces of information, I am sure. I am watching this blue bird girl like a hawk. Ain't no way she's dropping the "hear, feel, think" line without being Significant.

The lads are here to have a Serious Business meeting with Hermes, but first he must put the ambystomas away. Unfortunately, one is missing.

Hythlodaeus may have found it... up a tree??

I must concur with Emet-Selch's bafflement. These things can climb?

Oh, my mistake, they can fly.

But, just because they can get up does not mean they can get down. Hermes runs off to rescue the creature, followed by Meteion. Followed by me. Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch stay behind to watch the rest of the ambystomas, which Hermes seems to have forgotten in his haste.

...Hermes, are you okay?

Heh. Hehehe... I didn't. I certainly didn't expect the Fandaniel I know, but... I... This is so wholesome!

Ah... Elpis makes me happy.

Hermes falls out of the tree, but he's okay, and the ambystoma is rescued, so all's well that ends well!

Aww, thank you. I will!

.

.

.

Oh, that's nice.

Wait.

Ktisis?

Ktiseos.

I... Have a bad feeling about this.

#ffxiv liveblog #rhesh'a tag #hermes #meteion #emet-selch #hythlodaeus #argos #possibly venat? #baseless speculation

[dyhayc]

Little White Lies

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Softcore Pornstar!Fem!Reader (Light Angst Fluff, Smut)

Summary: You lie to everyone about your job in Indianapolis. What happens when Eddie recognizes you from his favourite porn magazines?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Only, Slight Choking Kink, Praise Kink, Very Light Bondage (He Uses His Hands), Marking, Vaginal Fingering, Protected Sex, PiV Penetration

(I’m not sure what this kink/whatever this counts as, but it’s mentioned a few times that Eddie’s “using” the reader)

A/N: I really don't know what to say. I think this one speaks for itself.

@pixiehollands's For Your Viewing Pleasure inspired this fic! They're a little different, but I've reblogged it, so please read their work as well !! :]

Masterlist

Your friendship with Eddie has lasted for years. You two have always had a strong connection, made stronger by your commitment to truth. As Eddie had so brazenly put it, standing in front of Hawkins High on a humid summer day in 1980: “We’re high schoolers now. All the crazy shit happens here. From now until forever, you have to promise to tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

At the time, you were skeptical. He’s a boy. Obviously, he’s hiding things from you. Why should you tell him everything that you go through? So, maybe a tad too accusatorily, you’d responded: “Sure, but only if you agree to tell me everything, too. I’ve been in your room alone, y’know.”

His face flushed, but he pretended it hadn’t happened. Instead, he spit in his palm and stuck out his hand. You’d been reluctant but had ultimately completed the spit shake. Dutifully, you’d both honoured your bond.

Well… he had dutifully honoured your bond. For example, Eddie had told you, in completely unnecessary detail, about his first time– and how bad it sucked. He’d also told you about his drug dealings, his father, the four times he’d almost gotten robbed in dingy alleyways behind the Hideout, and, of course, the one time the robber succeeded.

You had been a little more lenient, holding out on the more humiliating stories. You’d still told Eddie about a lot of things, though. Like bra shopping with your mother, family drama you’d learned during the holidays, your first time– which had also sucked, and your first period. Granted, the last one was out of necessity. He was the person you’d sent to get pads from the nurse’s office after freaking out in the girl’s bathroom.

Eddie’s also the first to know about many important events in your life. Generally, you tell him news before you let anyone else know, especially about things you’ll share with your family. He’s like a test-run, someone who will give you a preview of your family’s reaction.

Thus, he’s the first person you told about your new job in Indianapolis. You never told him exactly what the job was, but he was pretty broken up about it. After spending years together, you’d have to be separated during the week. You’re still around on weekends, but you’d split that time between him and everyone else you know in Hawkins.

He’d asked if you even needed to work in Indianapolis, but you’d just graduated high school, and money was tight. The job offered a higher salary than anything you could find in Hawkins. Besides, you’d already accepted and signed a contract. There was no turning back.

You’re a model for pornographic photos, to put it bluntly. It’s porn, sure, but it’s softcore porn. The only costars you’ll ever have are other women, and the only consumers will be teenage boys who think a picture of a bra is scandalous.

Was it a bad decision? Probably. But, you’re eighteen, you’re an adult, you can do whatever you want besides legally drinking alcohol. Anyways, you’d negotiated to include anonymity in your contract, meaning you’d never have to show your name or face unless you wanted to.

Your first real shoot was a few days after graduation. You’d pretended that you were going to an orientation and training for your job so nobody would be suspicious. The shoot went much smoother than expected, your nerves only lasting half an hour. One of the other women you’d met said it took her four sessions to get over her camera shyness, so you felt pretty good about the experience as a whole.

Since it was your first time in front of a camera, you’d been able to choose the lingerie and general vibe you wanted to have. You’d never admit this out loud, but you’d selected a set that reminded you of Eddie. It was dark red with black lace and silver metal decorations. The photographer chose a staged room that looked like a haunted house to match your outfit. The photos were a success, turning out nicely. They’d set your first appearance in a magazine for their July edition, two months away.

After your debut, you’d become quite popular. Customers enjoyed your photosets and sent letters to ask for more. The company decided that your next shoot would be angel-themed to contrast with the dark edge of your first photos. Once the set came out, people loved the angel and devil concept, so you’d stuck to those kinds of shoots from then on.

Since your start two years ago, you’ve appeared in thirty-seven magazines. Most of your pages are actually in limited-edition releases, unique to the company you work for. They’re hard to get and released separately from the usual monthly editions. They’re also worth a lot of money, meaning most people can’t get their hands on them.

Which is why you’re so shocked to find an entire box of all the magazines you’ve starred in tucked under Eddie’s bed. First of all, you’d told him multiple times that his bed isn’t the best place to hide things if he wants to keep them a secret. Second of all, even if he’d bought the limited releases when they’d first dropped, his collection would’ve cost him a few hundred dollars, at least.

Maybe he bought them because he liked some other girl in the magazines? But, skimming through the pages, you’re the only one in common between them all. Should you say something? But he can’t know it’s you. If he knew, he would’ve said something. Right?

Not wanting to seem like a creep, you simply slide them back under the bed and pretend you haven’t seen a thing. It’s just in time, too. Eddie comes back and flops onto his bed, right above the magazines. You’ll never look at him the same now that you know they're there.

He immediately notices your odd behaviour, raising his eyebrow, “You okay?”

“Yea,” you lie, wincing at your unsure tone, “just peachy.”

He sits up and leans close to you, squinting, attempting to figure out what’s wrong with you. Nervously, you stand, averting your gaze. He hums but doesn’t say anything more, falling backward to lay on his bed again.

You don’t want to be more suspicious, so you sit on his bed, too. Not liking the uncomfortable silence, you speak before your brain can stop you, “It’s just hot, y’know? This summer is way hotter than I expected.”

His fingers tap together like an evil mastermind. You know from experience that this means he has a plan, one that you probably won’t like. His eyes have a mischievous glint when he looks up at you. “I can hose you down out back. My uncle used to do it when I was a kid and it was too hot.”

“No way in hell are you hosing me down! I’d rather jump into Lover’s Lake naked!”

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t pretend like you haven’t already. I know you’ve skinny dipped in Lover’s Lake. It’s a rite of passage for dumb Hawkins teenagers.”

Scoffing, you hiss, “Are you calling me dumb?”

“You’re my best friend,” he says, rolling onto his front and pausing for dramatic effect, “of course I’m calling you dumb.”

In retaliation, you grab one of his pillows and swing at him. You’re not fast enough, his hand stops the pillow, but it’s not like you were expecting it to land. Throughout your entire friendship, you’ve only won one pillow fight.

Wrenching it from your grip, he places the pillow under his elbows. “All this talk about Lover’s Lake gives me an idea.” You make a face, ready to tell him off for teasing you, but he stops you. “It’s not a joke idea, calm down. Why don’t we go swimming there?”

Well, you weren’t lying when you said it’s hot, and Lover’s Lake is better than boiling to death in his room. You nod, “Okay, but I’m not going naked. I have a swimsuit in my bag.” Decision made, he pushes you off the bed and out of his room so he can change. You spend about a minute rifling through your bag to find your swimsuit. It’s nothing like the ones you wore in high school. Those were one-pieces designed to hide your insecurities.

Showing off your body in front of a camera has dramatically increased your confidence. Your new swimsuit is a two-piece. The bottoms are low-cut, exposing a lot of skin. In high school, you would’ve died at the thought of wearing this swimsuit, but now you’re excited about it. The print is cute, and the style is flattering to your body type.

Like always, Eddie slams open the door, scaring the crap out of you. He laughs at your expense, going to the small closet to grab towels for you both. You enter his room to change with a huff, annoyed with his childishness. You only take a minute, tossing your clothes to the corner of his room.

Reaching over to the bed, you attempt to grab your cover-up. But, wait. Where is it? Looking around, you scoff at your stupidity. Eddie’s scare had distracted you, meaning you’d never brought the damn thing with you. Opening the door, you plan to retrieve it from your bag, but Eddie notices you first.

“I recognize you,” he blurts the second you step out of the room. Both of you are caught off guard, neither expecting his words. You’re lost, like a fish out of water, floundering around for a hint of context. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized, staring holes into your bikini bottoms.

Your breath hitches, realizing your mistake too late. You’d completely forgotten about your scar! You’d gotten it as a child, but it’s in such a private place you’d never shown him in person. Obviously, he’s seen it in his magazines. He walks closer, and you walk backward. Eventually, there’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped between the wall and his body. His finger raises to trace against the scar, stopping at the edge of your swimsuit.

You’re doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, but he’s so close it’s hard to evade. He’s looking down at you so intensely that you have to turn your head. He mumbles, leaning closer to your ear, “Going to the big city to be a pornstar? What happened to the good girl you used to be?” You won’t stand for this slander. Sure, you’re timid, but you haven’t always been good.

“I never was one.”

“No?” he questions, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your jaw. Feeling the way you tremble at the contact, he continues down your exposed neck. You completely forget your conversation, engrossed in his actions for a moment.

When his lips leave your skin, you remember how to breathe, gasping, “No.”

Testing the waters, he hooks his finger into the elastic band of your bottoms and snaps them back onto your skin. You gasp and jolt at the slight pain but do nothing to stop him. Chuckling, he runs his free hand up your torso. He uses his thumb to guide your head straight, then rests his palm against your throat.

“Really,” he coos mockingly, making eye contact, “because I think you are one. Good girls let their best friends use them however they please. Are you gonna let me use you?”

Is this… his way of asking for consent? Because that might have been the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Looking up adoringly at him, your eyes must have stars shining in them. Vigorously nodding, you grip onto his shirt and gently tug him closer.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, yet he doesn’t move. You whine, wanting him to do something, but he shushes you, “I need to hear it out loud, princess.”

“Yes, please! Please, Eddie,” you beg, squirming in his grip. You’re silenced with a kiss, teeth and tongues clashing. Typically, this kind of kiss would’ve been terrible, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. His hand applies gentle pressure to your throat, making you hum in pleasure.

He pulls back, only to return to your neck. This time he sucks marks onto you, gently scraping his teeth against your sensitive skin. Searching for friction, your hips cant forward, but he puts a stop to it with a quick squeeze of his hand.

“You take what I give you, nothing more,” he chastizes, barely pulling away from your neck. Sheepishly, you mumble apologies. But he’s smiling against your skin, so you know he’s not actually mad.

Moving his hands, he guides your arms above your head, keeping his hands on your wrists for a moment. Observing his work, he mindlessly rubs his thumbs against the insides of your wrists. Only one side of your neck is marked, he thinks, that won’t do. So, he refocuses on your hands and crosses them so he can grab both with one hand.

Your thighs clench because of how large his hands are. Seriously, how have you never noticed? His free hand lightly smacks the outside of your thigh, and you think he’s going to punish you for breaking your rule, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your leg up, hooking it around his hip. The material of your swimsuits are thin, so it feels like skin-to-skin contact.

The first time he rolls his hips, your eyelids flutter closed. He’s so hard, the outline of his dick visible through his thin swim trunks, and it’s pressing right against your clit. You lose your mind when he starts sucking on the other side of your neck. With the way he’s holding you, you’re unable to move, forced to take at all. Your moans are only increasing in volume. Pretty soon, the entire trailer park will be able to hear you.

Once he’s satisfied both sides of your neck match, he helps you off the wall and lightly pushes you onto his bed. The pose you fall into feels familiar. It was probably in one of the magazines under his bed, considering how he looks at you. Timidly, you close your legs and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why are you so shy, princess? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he points out, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

It’s a little different when you’re laid out in front of him in real life, his eyes watching your every move. A little intimidated, you raise your hands to cover your face, giggling nervously. Eddie smiles softly at you, whispering, “You’re making it hard to be mean, pretty girl.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” you whisper behind your hands, watching him through the cracks in your fingers. He lightly grabs your wrists and brings them to his face, kissing your palms gently before placing them on his cheeks.

Your fingers slide further, tangling in his hair, as he suggests, “Why don’t we take off your top, hmm?” His hands trace the wire of the cups absentmindedly until you nod and lift your chest so he can remove it. The garment is tossed randomly over his shoulder, eyes focused on your boobs.

“You’re prettier in person,” he mumbles, leaning down to trail his lips all over your chest. Slowly, his kisses turn to bites, leaving an array of hickeys as he had with your neck. He sighs, sounding almost disappointed, “I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.”

“I know,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair and tugging when he hits a sensitive spot. His mouth travels lower and lower, finally hovering over your bottoms. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them down, watching them peel off your soaked pussy.

He stops for a moment to admire you, licking his lips. Lightly, he traces over the inside of your thigh with a single finger, trailing it closer and closer to where you want him most. You remember the rule from earlier, though, and keep your hips still. As a reward, he slips a single finger in.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion. Eddie’s fingers are much thicker than yours are. Involuntarily, your walls flutter around him as he brings his thumb up to circle your clit while his pointer finger thrusts in and out of you. When you’re ready, he adds a second and a third a few minutes later. You’re so close, on the brink of cumming, when he abruptly stops. You gape at him, kind of upset because of the fading orgasm, though you know he’ll make up for it. Or, at least, he’d better make up for it.

Pulling out his fingers, he spreads them apart to watch the lines of slick web between each knuckle. Wordlessly, he grabs a condom from his bedside table and tears open the package with his teeth. You watch, now entranced, as he slides it on and uses the wetness on his hand to lube the outside of the condom.

Satisfied, he turns his attention back to you. His hands yank you to the edge of the bed, ensuring you’re steady before releasing your hips. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering even more slick. You’ve never had sex with someone in this position, your legs forced to wrap around him if you want to stay balanced.

He pushes slowly in, and your breath catches. It’s not painful, just a lot. His dick is much bigger than his fingers, so he stretches you open.  Pausing only when he’s deep in your guts, he gives you time to adjust, leaning down and pressing soothing kisses to the darkening marks he’d left everywhere on your body.

You’re grateful for the short grace period, but after all the build-up, you need him now. Angling your hips, you attempt to move on your own, but he pushes your hips back down. “I thought I told you to take what I give you? Don’t start being bad now.”

“Sorry, I’m really sorry, please just move. Please, please,” you beg, devolving into whimpers of pleas. Taking pity on you, he complies, gently rocking in and out of you. Again, it’s not enough, but you don’t want him to be mad, so you continue to beg for more instead of moving yourself.

Even under all the lights and cameras you’d never felt so heavily scrutinized. His eyes are keen, watching every movement, gauging every reaction. It almost feels like you’re a photo in one of his magazines, and he’s using your body to jerk off. The mental image sends a thrill up your spine, to be used for pleasure in such a way– but that’s a thought to file away and psychoanalyze another day.

His resolve appears to be crumbling, his hands planting themselves on either side of your body as he ruts into you. His pace is steadily increasing, causing your orgasm to build back, the pleasure burning low in your gut. Your voice has been reduced to moans, higher and higher in pitch the faster he goes.

Gathering all your willpower, you beg him one last time to go faster. “Are you sure,” he grits out in return, “I might not be able to stop.” How is it possible for him to say the hottest things without even realizing it?

“Please! I don’t care, don’t stop, please,” you cry, nails scratching trails down his back. He finally lets loose, not holding back. It’s impossible, but you swear his dick hits deeper every time he pushes in.

Each thrust hits hard, inching you away from the edge. Splaying his hand flat on your torso, Eddie prevents you from being pushed backward on the bed. His other hand grips the junction of your left thigh and hip, ensuring you won’t go too far away from him.

Both your hands fly to his forearm, holding on tightly, hoping to ground yourself in the moment. Your walls are clenching uncontrollably, needing a little push to fall over the edge. You cry only his name, but he understands what you need, reaching his hand to rub messy circles over your clit. You’re both on the brink of release, so it’s much clumsier than when he fingered you, but it feels just as good– if not better.

You’re the first to orgasm, clenching your eyes shut as all senses besides pleasure fade from view. Eddie isn’t very far behind, however. His cum fills the condom, but you swear you can feel the warmth seep through. He pulls out and takes it off, tying the end. Lightly, you crack your eye open to make absolutely sure the condom didn’t break before shutting them in exhaustion.

Eddie crawls onto the bed and drops right on top of you, face-planting in your boobs. Giggling, you try to push him off, but your limbs feel like jelly, so you give up. A comfortable silence falls over you both, content to lay down and chill for a while.

You feel relaxed– until you don’t. Your insecurities come bubbling up, despite what you do to stop them. It shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t, but you have to ask, “Are you actually angry that I do what I do?”

“Angry?” he questions, pulling back to study your face. You find it harder and harder to keep his gaze, afraid of what you’ll find. He chuckles, “Sweetheart, as long as you’re not committing felonies, I won’t be angry with you– money’s money. I’m a drug dealer. I don’t have any room to judge.”

A little sheepish, you mumble, “Well, you just seemed so… intense.”

He full-on laughs this time, which you think is a little unfair. It was a genuine question, after all. “Intense?” he repeats, pressing his face between your breasts to muffle his laughter. His ringed hands press against your sides, moulding the skin there. “That wasn’t me being intense,” he corrects, raising his head to rest his chin on your sternum, “that was all jealousy.”

He pouts a little, “I’m sad I didn’t get to see your titties before millions of other men worldwide.”

Laughing, you shake your head at his ridiculousness. Was he seriously upset because he saw your boobs after other people did? “Eddie, you’re silly,” you tease, scratching his scalp. “If you asked sooner, I would’ve shown you my boobs. Even in high school.”

Astonished, he exclaims genuinely, “Wait! If I had asked earlier you would’ve shown me your boobs! Why hadn’t I thought of that!” Both of you crack up again, but you don’t bother speaking again when the laughter dies. The silence talks louder than the words you could’ve said.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie smut #eddie munson smut #pornstar!au #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #light angst #fluff #smut #my writing

[noneedtoamputate]

Blind Dates 2024: Patsy Harangody

Pasty is the secretary you wish had, but she's not going to put up with your foolishness - even if you were the most beloved Marine officer in the PTO.

A shout out to @shoshiwrites for being an absolute peach and for beta reading my fic. All remaining errors are entirely my own. And thanks to @mercurygray for being my Andy Haldane sounding board and for creating and running the @blind-dates-fest for all of us to enjoy.

Fandom: The Pacific (AU, postwar)

September 1947

Chicago, Illinois

He didn’t interrupt while she finished typing a memo. That was the first thing Patsy Harangody noticed about Andy Haldane, before she even got a proper look at him. Most of the coaches at the University of Chicago simply walked up to her desk and started talking, even if she was in the middle of work. At the very least, they faked a cough to get her attention, as if she couldn’t see them out of the corner of her eye. But Andy Haldane pretended to be interested in a photograph on the wall until he saw her pull the sheet of paper out of the typewriter.

“Welcome to Chicago, Coach Haldane,” she said after he introduced himself. She could tell by his accent he wasn’t just new to the university but the city as well. “Please take a seat until Mr. Carlson is ready to meet with you.” She gestured to a nearby chair. “Coffee?” she asked as he sat down. 

“No, thank you,” and he trailed off as he looked at her finger. “No thank you, Miss Harangody.” The nameplate on her desk simply read Patricia Harangody, not giving away her marital status. While she addressed visitors with their titles - coach or mister, sometimes dean or professor - rarely did anyone return the respect. Just Patricia. Just Patsy. Just a secretary.

She opened a drawer and took out a file, pretending to look over its contents. Instead, she watched him continue his recon exercise. She saw him look at the photos on her desk, one of her family on the steps of their apartment and the one with Ginny and Abigail and Flo when they had leave and took the train down from Washington to Virginia Beach. He took in the sorry plant struggling to stay alive despite her best efforts and the sociology textbook she bought last week, storing these pieces of information away, in case they could help him later. He looked up at the clock on the wall behind her and compared its time with his wristwatch, frowning ever so slightly at Mr. Carlson’s lack of punctuality.

“Any words of advice before I go in there?” She looked up from her reading and saw him smiling at her. 

As the newest assistant football coach, it was now his job to meet with Don Carlson, the assistant athletic director, twice weekly - on Mondays to report on the game just played over the weekend, and on Thursdays to preview the game ahead  The assignment always fell to the newest coach, just as her position fell to the newest secretary, as it was common knowledge that Don Carlson was the stupidest man employed by the University of Chicago. 

Patsy could only guess what he had heard about her boss, and while she certainly had strong opinions, she wasn’t about to share them with a stranger, no matter how polite he was and how nice a smile he had. If she shared anything negative about Don Carlson and it got back to him, it would be her job on the line, not Andy Haldane’s. 

“Coach Haldane, please understand how important discretion is to being a successful secretary. While I haven’t seen your resume, I’m confident you have the education and work experience befitting a University of Chicago football coach. I have no doubt the meeting will go just fine.”

She caught him off guard for a moment, but he nodded, a sign of respect for what she refused to say.

Seconds later, Mr. Carlson came bumbling out of his office. “Coach Haldane, Don Carlson,” he said as he shook the younger man’s hand.” He turned to his secretary. “Patsy, why didn’t you tell me Coach Haldane was waiting?”

Patsy looked at the new coach, and she tilted her head to the side ever so slightly and rolled her eyes. 

I didn’t tell him you were waiting because he specifically told me not to interrupt him. He said he wanted to show you who was in charge here.

No actual words were exchanged, but he seemed to understand. 

“A pleasure meeting you, MIss Harangody,” he said before he walked into the office. 

When he walked out forty-five minutes later, he gave her a look.

What the hell was that? he silently asked her.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down so she didn’t start laughing. He shook his head and walked out of the office, still in a daze.

The next morning, Patsy saw Coach Haldane on her walk from the train station to the athletic department office. 

“Miss Harangody,” he called out. “Do you have a minute?”

“Not really. I took a later train than usual this morning.” He nodded, understanding but seemingly disappointed at the same time. “You’re welcome to join me,” she added, and he smiled as they walked side by side.

Patsy loved this time of year, when you could almost smell the leaves change colors in the brisk morning air and motivated students gathered around the Gothic-style buildings, talking about classes and classmates. 

“It makes you almost forget we’re in Chicago,” he said. 

“What does?” she asked. 

“The trees and the buildings. The parks and the lake.” He waved his hand in the direction of the water. 

It was like he just read her thoughts. She felt unsettled and intrigued in equal measure.

“Were you in intelligence during the war?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Hardly. And my lack of intelligence is why I wanted to talk with you.” He put his hands in his jacket pockets. “I put you in an awkward position yesterday. I shouldn’t have asked you to divulge anything about your supervisor. It was disrespectful and unprofessional of me. I hope you’ll accept my apology.”

“Of course, Coach Haldane. I’m sure it’s difficult being in a new place. I don’t begrudge you trying to get an advantage, but I’m glad you understand my situation,” she said.

“Thank you,” he said. He pulled out an envelope from his pocket. “These are for you. Two tickets to the game on Saturday. It’s one of the perks of the job, and you’re the only person I know here who isn’t part of the team.”

“I’m not sure about my weekend plans …” she trailed off. She didn’t care for football, but it felt rude admitting that to a football coach.

“Take them, just in case,” he said.

She grabbed the envelope. “Alright. Just in case.”

“Miss Harangody.” He looked at her a moment longer than necessary and walked on.

She walked into her building and saw Lorraine, her friend and a fellow secretary, in line for the elevator.

“Hiya, Pats,” Lorraine greeted her. “How’s things?”

She thought of the envelope in her purse, his patience before walking up to her desk and his apology when he knew he was in the wrong. Even if she didn’t like football, there were always the trees and the tailgate parties and the coach on the sideline who she knew would be scanning the crowd for the secretary who accepted his tickets. 

“I know it’s only Tuesday, but what are you doing on Saturday?” Patsy asked. “Two tickets to the football game just fell into my lap.”

#the pacific #the pacific fan #andy haldane #patsy harangody #blind dates oc fest 2024 #oc #original female character

[fawn-eyed-girl]

MirSan: A Kiss for Luck

A little self-indulgent MirSan kiss prompt! A preview to start, and more below the cut 💋💋

Tags: MirSan, kisses, high school AU, track and field AU, high jumper Sango, Hurdler Miroku, Miroku and his bad flirting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miroku watched as Sango waited her turn in line. It was the hardest event of her competition—the high jump—and Miroku knew that Sango’s nerves were sky-high. She was bouncing in place, eyes closed, and every so often she would hop, hop, and then jump, as though she were practicing her steps in her mind. 

He smiled. Even though this was an important event—a difficult event—and even though Sango was nervous, she was still focused on the task at hand. 

“You’re gonna do amazing,” he said, walking up to her and stretching as he did so—his own event, the 1500m hurdles, was further down in the program, so he had a bit of time still until he had to complete. Normally he’d be going through his own pre-race routine, but now, Sango was the most important thing on his mind: not the hurdles, not his step pattern in between them, and not the height of his legs as he jumped. 

Sango’s eyes shot open, and she looked at him in surprise. “Miroku!” she said, bouncing up and down still. “Shouldn’t you be preparing for your own event?”

Miroku shrugged. “Nah,” he said, giving her a roguish grin, “I still got time.” He stepped a little closer to her. “It’s you who’s more important right now,” he added, and laughed when she rolled her eyes.

“You’re the worst,” she said, “and I’m not gonna console you this time when you fall over the hurdle at 900m and fail to finish the race.”

“That was only one time!” he cried, and now it was her turn to giggle. “Besides,” he added, “I think that time you consoled me helped me get over any fears I had about that happening ever again.”

“Do you ever hear yourself?” she shot back, but there was no heat in her tone; she was still smiling at him. 

“Always,” he drawled, “and I think I sound amazing and wonderful and charming.”

“You sound none of those,” Sango retorted, “but you’re cute, so I guess we’ll let you stick around.”

“Numbers 17, 35, and 47!” the announcer called. “You’re up next! Please take your positions outside the starting line.”

“That’s me,” Sango said, stretching one last time.

“That’s you,” Miroku said.

“Well,” Sango shrugged her shoulders and gave Miroku a grin, “wish me luck?”

Miroku blushed. “I’ll do better than that, if you don’t mind,” he replied.

Sango’s eyes widened. “What…what could you possibly…” she stammered.

Miroku leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Good luck, Sango,” he breathed, her face turning bright red at his words. “You’re gonna jump higher than everyone here today. I just know it.”

“And if I don’t?” Sango asked, her beautiful smile turning into a frown.

“Doesn’t matter,” Miroku said. “You’ll always be the best high jumper to me.”

“I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Sango teased.

“Don’t have to,” Miroku admitted. “I just want to say it to you.”

Sango opened her mouth like she wanted to reply, but just leaned forward and kissed him back. “See you out there, you cheesy troublemaker,” she murmured. She stood up. “And don’t even think about giving me a playful smack on the ass as I walk away.”

“Sango!” Miroku moaned. “How could you think so little of me?”

“I don’t,” she answered, walking away from him. “I think so little of your hand.”

Miroku laughed, and took his own position, stretching and jogging and going through his own pre-race warmups. When it was Sango’s turn, though, he yelled for her louder than anyone else on their team, cheering and screaming for her until he was nearly hoarse. And after she topped her personal best, he raced out onto the field and picked her up in a huge hug, kissing her there in front of the whole stadium.

She didn’t win, but neither of them really cared. Because for Sango, winning Miroku’s heart, and him letting her claim him as hers, there in front of everyone, was the thing that mattered most.

From the Kiss Prompts 💋

#mirsan #miroku x sango #inuyasha fanfiction #mirsan kisses #mirsan fluff #kiss prompts