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roosterforme · 1 year ago

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Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation

Length: 8600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"I need to move."

Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout.

"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"

For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."

"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.

You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"

"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"

"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"

Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."

You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."

"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."

Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."

You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."

Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.

"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."

You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."

Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.

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

You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.

He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.

"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.

You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time.

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."

But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.

Fuck.

It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"

His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."

His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."

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

You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?

But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.

He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was.

You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."

He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge."

When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.

You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"

"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"

You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."

He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."

With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."

"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked.

"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.

"My treat."

"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."

"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.

"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."

He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."

Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."

Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."

You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth.

He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.

"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."

"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"

He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.

You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"

Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?"

"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."

You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"

Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."

"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."

Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."

He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"

"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.

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

You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.

You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."

"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza.

"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking."

He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"

Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."

You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"

"What?"

You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."

He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar."

"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."

He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"

You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"

Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"

"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."

Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"

"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."

A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."

"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep.

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

Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.

He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.

You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way.

When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"M'kay."

Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side.

Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"

He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."

You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.

"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him.

The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him.

After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs.

"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."

He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."

Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."

With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.

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

Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home.

The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you.

So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there.

You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.

"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.

"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"

"Right now?" he asked immediately.

You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."

"I'll be there soon."

He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.

"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"

"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."

"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."

Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."

That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.

Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"

"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"

"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"

You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."

You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."

He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."

Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers.

"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."

"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.

"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room.

"I don't really want to do that."

You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"

He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.

"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."

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

You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar.

"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.

"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."

Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."

Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."

Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him.

"I think you should quit," he told you blandly.

"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."

You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"

He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.

"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"

You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too.

You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.

Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.

If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar.

"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started.

"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."

Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."

That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.

The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them.

Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped.

Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process.

"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."

"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit.

"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."

You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again.

"Not those ones."

You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"

His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him.

Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."

"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."

He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet.

"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."

"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding."

He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips.

Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case.

But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.

His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him.

Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life.

Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered.

"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.

He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot.

"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers.

"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone.

Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms.

"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.

"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."

Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.

Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."

"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."

You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."

"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache.

"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."

"Why?" he demanded again.

Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."

"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body.

You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."

Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."

His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."

"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response.

"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.

He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."

"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.

"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."

"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."

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

You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.

"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk.

"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.

"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."

"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."

"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.

You moaned. "I owe him so much."

Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."

"What conclusion would that be?"

"That you're in love with me."

You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."

Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."

That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love.

"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."

"Just for that, you get a remix too."

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

I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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pasiveagressive · 7 months ago

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Halloween Icons || M.V.33

liked by f1gossip, wagsoff1, and others

paddockgossip In honor of their 10th annual Halloween Party coming soon, we are counting down with Y/N and Max's iconic halloween costumes over the years!

liked by leclercfan, noverstoppen, and others

paddockgossip 2012 Halloween: Even before she and Max were showing us how to be the world's best couple Y/N was slaying halloween down!

liked by wagsgossip, maxfan33, and others

paddockgossip 2013 Halloween: Another slay without Max! This time with two of her besties!

liked by maxiel4life, wagupdates and others

paddockgossip 2014 Halloween: Max and Y/N's first halloween as a couple, looking absolutely adorable as Kim Possible and Ron Stoppable!

liked by wagsgossip, landonowins and others

paddockgossip 2015 Halloween: Ruh Roh Raggy, Y/n and Max in 2015 as Scooby and Shaggy!

liked by y/nfan, maxfan, and others

paddockgossip 2016 Halloween: Taking things a bit more sinister, Max and Y/N in 2016 as a Purge couple! This is also the first year Y/N and Max hosted what would become their annual Halloween Party!

liked by redbullracingupdates, paddocklove and others

paddockgossip 2017 Halloween: These killers will make you Scream! This years party hosted was the first one that was really popular almost every driver on the grid attended as well as some smaller celebrities!

liked by wagsupdates, 44love, and others

paddockgossip 2018 Halloween: Y/N and Max as Romeo and Juliet from the 1996 adaptation! Y/N has claimed this as one of her favorite movies in the past!

The 2018 party was the first one that really resembles what it still looks like today, they rented a club, a DJ, a photographer and more. The guest list was in the 100's for the first time!

liked by y/nfan, maxiel4life and others

paddockgossip 2019 Halloween: Hide your wallets and jewelry, Bonnie and Clyde are in town!

In 2019 Max and Y/N decided to charge admission into the party in the form of donations to Charities!

liked by checo11, russellfan63 and others

paddockgossip 2020 Halloween: First time they ever 'repeated' a costume, back as Bonnie and Clyde but this time after the shootout!

No Party this year because of the global pandemic! The couple still requested that their friends donate to charities to help support those that lost their jobs due to the pandemic!

liked by f1wags, f1gossip and others

paddockgossip 2021 Halloween: Not much to say about this one, Catwoman and Batman,

Max and Y/N had their party in person again this year after taking the previous year off for the pandemic!

liked by noverstoppen, wagsupdates and others

paddockgossip 2022 Halloween: My personal favorite Max and Y/N costume, they absolutely killed it as Joker and Harley Quinn!

They asked everyone to dress up as heroes or villians at this years party:

Daniel went as Loki

Lando went as Darth Vader

George and Carmen went as Mr. Incredible and Elastagirl

Charles and Alex went as Superman and Lois

keep reading

liked by youruser, wagsupdates and others

paddockgossip 2023 Halloween: Of course our Halloween Icons went as Barbie and Ken in 2023, with a first for Max and Y/N a costume change mid-party!

We can't wait to see what they dress up as this year!

liked by charles_leclerc maxverstappen1 and others

youruser We couldn't decide which costume to do this year so we decided why not both?

tagged maxverstappen1

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paddockgossip brb got to add this to my list!

#x reader #fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #max verstappen #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you

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sosakali · 8 days ago

Text

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

mutualfriend!jisung x f!reader

SCENE : jisung has always had a crush on you ever since his friend introduced you to him , obviously you were oblivious until a drunk truth or dare game goes left .

TW: smut

WC: 5.7k

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the night air is thick with leftover bass and the scent of sweat and perfume . your group stumbles out of the club, laughter echoing under the orange streetlights . someone yells for fries, another argues that they should walk home to "burn off the alcohol." you just want to take your heels off and collapse somewhere soft. you’re walking ahead, jacket wrapped tight around your shoulders, phone clutched in one hand, when you hear footsteps catch up beside you . it’s jisung.

he’s got that nervous energy again , eyes flicking between the ground and your face , hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets like he’s afraid they might betray him . there’s a slight flush on his cheeks, though it could be the cold or the vodka from earlier. "you danced a lot tonight," he says, voice a little too soft, like he’s unsure if he should’ve spoken. you nod, smiling. "yeah, it was fun. haven’t had a night like that in a while." jisung chuckles, barely audible. "you looked like you were having fun." he adds something under his breath, but you miss it .

"hm?"

"nothing," he says quickly . his hand brushes against yours and he jerks it back like he touched a flame . you barely notice .

you’re talking about the DJ now, about how weird the remixes were, and jisung is walking beside you like always. that’s the thing , you don’t even register how he’s always beside you . how, at the club, every time you turned around, he was never far . how he brought you water before you could ask , how he told that one guy who got too close to back off .

"i think I left my charger at your place," he mumbles .

"you have like three chargers at my place," you say, laughing .

he shrugs, bashful . "guess I keep leaving stuff on purpose."

you grin. "then you're definitely doing it for attention."

he looks at you , eyes wide for a second , then he quickly looks away, smiling to himself . "yeah. something like that."

the group is behind you now , their voices fading as they joke about someone almost tripping over the curb . the night feels quieter, more intimate . you notice how jisung keeps opening his mouth like he’s about to say something , then stops . like he's fighting with himself . you slow down near your street, and Jisung matches your pace.

"hey," he says , suddenly sounding a bit more serious . "do you… remember that time we were out and some random guy asked if we were together?"

You laugh. "oh yeah! that was hilarious. you turned so red."

he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, well… i mean. i didn’t think it was that crazy of a question." you blink, confused. "what do you mean?" he glances at you. "nothing. just… never mind." you smile at him again , clueless , brushing it off like always . and jisung, poor boy, just nods and kicks a pebble into the street.

he wishes you’d catch it, just once . the way he lingers when you speak . the way he always makes sure he’s the one walking you home. the way he’s memorized your laugh, your favorite drink, the way your nose scrunches when you're drunk and happy .

two blocks from the bar , the night feels different . softer . the chaos has dulled into something quieter , like everyone's riding that mellow wave after the high . streetlights flicker above you , casting long shadows on the pavement . the group’s a little scattered now , some ahead , some behind , conversations happening in pairs and bursts of laughter.

you’re walking in the middle , pace slow and easy . tour heels aren’t killing you yet , but they’re threatening to . jaemin’s up front with a few others , spinning around every few seconds like he’s hosting a reality show. “yo!” he shouts back, grinning . “let’s go to your place! truth or dare night . classic . i'm feeling chaotic.”

You roll your eyes. “didn’t y’all just say you wanted food?”

“we can walk and decide! i want to embarrass Jisung again like i did last time,” haemin cackles . you glance at jisung , who’s walking quietly beside you again , hands shoved into his pockets , his hoodie bouncing with each step . He chuckles, barely .

“can’t wait,” he mutters, eyes low .

you smirk. “you alright?”

He nods. “yeah. just… thinking.”

about two steps go by in silence before he adds , “you ever notice how different everything feels right after the club?” you raise an eyebrow . “Like how?” "like…” he searches for the words, his eyes still on the pavement . "like everything’s quieter, but louder at the same time . You hear stuff better . feel stuff more.”

you look at him for a second . his jaw’s tense, lips slightly parted like he’s debating what to say next .

“You get like that too?” he asks.

You shrug. “sometimes . depends who I’m walking with.”

that gets him . his mouth twitches like he’s about to smile, but he doesn’t . he just nods .

“you looked good tonight,” he says suddenly .

you turn your head, surprised . “Huh?”

jisung keeps his eyes forward. “at the club. you looked really good.”

it’s not the first compliment you’ve ever gotten from him , but it’s different . there’s something in the way he says it , soft but weighty, like it almost slipped out . like it mattered to him too much . you laugh lightly, not knowing what else to do with that tension blooming in your chest . “thanks.”

“i mean it,” he says quickly.

you glance at him again . his face is turned just enough for you to catch the faint pink on his cheeks . he’s biting the inside of his lip now , and for some reason it makes your heart stutter a little. before you can respond, jaemin yells again from the front, “yo! y/n! are we going to your spot or not?”

You blink, like you’d just been pulled out of something.

“yeah!” you call back . “we’re almost there!”

and then the group starts turning the corner up ahead . jisung nudges your arm gently as you walk beside him again, his voice just low enough for only you to hear .

“i keep hoping you’ll notice.”

you glance at him, but he’s already looking away, eyes fixed on the sidewalk like it’s safer there . you don’t say anything. not yet. but suddenly, the sound of your heels on the pavement, the late-night air, and the hoodie wrapped around you all feel like pieces of something you hadn’t been paying attention to until now .

and you keep walking , side by side , two blocks further from the bar… but maybe one step closer to something else.

by the time you all reach your apartment, your feet are screaming, someone’s complaining about how hungry they are , and jaemin’s still on a mission like it’s his birthday. you unlock the door and everyone pours in like it’s tradition . shoes fly off, music’s cued on low, and within minutes someone’s already digging through your kitchen for snacks .

the living room shifts into chill mode , blankets thrown around, pillows dragged to the floor , lights dimmed low. red cups start getting filled with whatever’s left in the fridge: wine, vodka, juice, whatever mix works. It's a mess , but a fun mess. giselle plops down beside you on the floor , cross-legged , her long nails wrapped around her cup . she pulls out her pineapple vape and takes a slow pull , exhaling that sweet scent like she’s in a perfume ad.

“okay,” she says , lips already curved into a smirk, “who's tryna get exposed tonight?”

jaemin claps his hands once , loud. “TRUTH. OR. DARE. let’s gooo.”

everyone groans and cheers at the same time , and suddenly you’re all forming a messy circle , knees touching, red cups in hand, half of y’all already buzzed, the rest getting there. you’re between giselle and jisung. of course. his leg brushes against yours when he shifts, and neither of you move . it’s not on purpose… but it also kind of is .

the bottle jaemin pulled from your kitchen starts spinning in the center . it lands on one of the guys first , and the game kicks off. the usual dumb stuff at first : “text your mom and ask her if aliens are real,” “do ten jumping jacks while chugging your drink,” all laughter and chaos .

Then the questions shift.

giselle spins next. the bottle lands on you.

she grins. “truth or dare, baby?”

you lift your cup to your lips. “truth.”

she leans in with that devilish look . “alright. when’s the last time you hooked up with someone?”

everyone hollers . you laugh, shaking your head .

“damn, y’all are messy already.”

"answer the question!” felix says, pointing.

you sip. “like, two months ago . nothing serious.”

someone says “ooh,” someone else fake coughs “boring,” and the bottle moves on . the laughter stays light , but you feel jisung tense beside you a little .

your turn to spin . it lands on him .

you look at him over your cup. “truth or dare?”

he meets your eyes for the first time since sitting down . his gaze lingers. “truth.” you think for a second , then smirk. “alright, Jisung… have you ever caught feelings for someone in this room?”

he freezes for just a beat . the group gets quiet .

giselle exhales a puff of pineapple that floats between you and him like fog .

he glances around the room, slow . then, finally, his eyes land on you.

“…yeah.”

the air shifts. you feel it. heavy and warm.

jaemin’s eyebrows shoot up , but he says nothing. the bottle spins again .

the next few turns barely register , someone gets dared to take a shot off someone’s stomach , another person admits they still stalk their ex . but your mind’s not on any of that . you feel jisung next to you, quiet but not distant . his thigh’s still brushing yours . he hasn't looked away since he said it .

giselle nudges you with her knee and whispers low , “girl… you felt that too , right?”

you don’t answer . you just take another sip of your drink .

because yeah , you felt it .

and you don’t think this night’s done revealing things yet .

the bottle keeps spinning . people are getting bolder now . the kind of bold that only red cups and low lights can bring out . someone just admitted to hooking up in a dressing room. another dared jaemin to post “i miss you” on his story for five minutes. the whole circle’s buzzing with chaotic giggles and wild side-eyes .

you’re sitting there , heart still tangled from jisung’s little “yeah” answer , trying to play it cool. every time you glance at him , he’s either looking away fast… or already looking at you .

then the bottle spins again.

jake’s turn.

he leans forward, eyes gleaming. “alright, I’m feeling messy.”

the bottle does its slow, dramatic spin ,click ,click ,click ,and lands right on you. “oooooooh,” the group sings, already hyped .

jake grins. “truth or dare, y/n?”

you tilt your head. “dare.”

jaemin gasps. “she’s brave now.”

jake doesn’t hesitate. “i dare you to kiss Jisung . ten seconds . full makeout.”

the entire room EXPLODES.

“jake!” yuna shouts.

“oh my goodnesss,” giselle squeals , clutching her vape like it was a pearl necklace .

you blink. you open your mouth to say something , maybe protest, maybe joke it off , but then you glance at jisung .

he’s already looking at you.

face flushed, lips slightly parted . frozen . but not backing out.

you laugh, nervous. “are y’all serious right now?” jake holds up his hands. “a dare’s a dare. you can forfeit if you want…” you glance back at jisung . and this time , something shifts in you .

“nah,” you say, setting your cup down . “he can handle it.”

that gets the whole circle screaming.

jisung swallows , nods once , slow. “yeah. I-I can.” he shifts , turning toward you . the circle goes quiet . music still plays in the background, but it’s faint now . everyone's holding their breath .

you lean in at the same time he does , and for a second, it’s awkward , like two people who’ve thought about this way too much but never had the nerve .

then your lips meet .

and everything else drops out .

his hand finds your cheek , soft at first , then bolder as he kisses you back , slow, warm, nervous but deep . like he’s been holding this in forever . his lips move against yours like he means it.

because he does.

someone whispers “damn,” and you vaguely hear someone counting.

“six… seven…”

it feels like longer . feels like it should’ve happened forever ago. when you finally pull back , breath caught in your throat , you open your eyes and his are already on you , wide, searching, kind of stunned. everyone starts shouting again, clapping, laughing, making jokes .

but you and jisung?

you’re both still staring.

neither of you say anything.

because that ten seconds just changed everything.

the game rolls on, but the pace slows . people start slouching into pillows, giggling in half-asleep slurs, heads falling onto each other’s shoulders . the red cups are nearly empty. someone’s passed out on your couch with a dorito stuck to their cheek .

giselle’s curled up in a blanket , still vaping pineapple clouds into the room like fog , her eyes fluttering closed between turns. jaemin’s in the corner scrolling through his phone , occasionally yelling “WHO STILL WANTS TO PLAY?”

you’re still in the circle. barely. the air feels thick, warmer now. that kiss with Jisung still lingers on your lips , and every time your shoulder brushes his , your chest tightens.

then felix , who’s somehow still wide awake and grinning , spins the bottle . it lands on you.

he leans back with that chaotic smile of his. “y/n. dare.”

you raise an eyebrow. “again?”

“you wanted to play bold,” he says . then he glances at heeseung across from you, who’s lying back with one hand behind his head, looking entirely too relaxed. “i dare you to give heeseung a hickey.”

the silence hits like a record scratch.

You blink. “you’re ... what?”

heeseung smirks. “you don’t have to, obviously. i’m not tryna die tonight.” you glance over at jisung. he’s not looking at you . not moving . just sitting stiff, jaw tight, staring at the half-empty bottle like it personally betrayed him .

everyone else is either laughing nervously or whispering , too tired to realize the weight of what felix just did.

you look back at heeseung. he shrugs, offering his neck like it’s a joke. And then , maybe it’s the alcohol, or the pressure, or the heat crawling up your spine , you lean forward and do it. quick, just enough. Nothing slow, nothing deep. but enough for the dare to be done.

you pull back. everyone kind of gasps, half-impressed, half-drunk.

and jisung stands up.

doesn’t say anything . just quietly rises , stepping over someone’s legs , heading toward the bathroom with his hands in his hoodie pocket. you freeze for a second. then you’re up too , following him, slipping past felix and ignoring the knowing look he gives you. you catch jisung right as he closes the bathroom door. you grab it and push it open before he can lock it .

“jisung.”

He turns around , eyes wide like he didn’t expect you to follow him. “what’re you ...?”

“why’d you walk off like that?” you ask , stepping in and closing the door behind you . the soft hum of the party fades outside. he runs a hand through his hair . his cheeks are flushed, jaw still clenched.

“i just needed a minute.”

you lean against the sink. “are you mad?”

he scoffs. “nah.”

you tilt your head. “you sure? ‘cause you didn’t even look at me after felix said that.”

he looks at you then . really looks. “yeah, ‘cause i didn’t wanna lose it in front of everyone.”

you blink.

he shakes his head. “felix knew. he knew I liked you. he’s known. everyone knows . and he still dared you to do that like it was funny.”

you stay quiet.

he steps forward , eyes darker now . tired. frustrated. honest.

“i’ve been trying so hard to play it cool,” he says , voice low, raw . “dropping hints, walking you home, giving you my hoodie, thinking maybe you’d see me.”

your breath catches.

“and then you kiss me like that,” he says, softer now, “and i swear to God, i thought maybe, maybe, it meant something to you too.”

you can feel the pounding in your chest. it's loud.

he looks away, hands gripping the sink now . "but maybe I was just fooling myself.” you step closer. “jisung…”

he finally meets your eyes again. “i like you. like, i really like you. and i’ve been holding it in because i didn’t wanna mess up our friendship, or make you uncomfortable, or come off like just another guy trying to shoot his shot after a few drinks. But tonight just ..” he pauses. “i couldn’t keep it in anymore.”

the silence stretches thick between you.

and then you move , slowly, carefully .. until you’re right in front of him.

you reach for his hand .

and this time… you lean in first.

it’s not a dramatic kiss . it’s soft .. almost like a question. like is this okay? like can i show you i feel it too?

but jisung doesn’t hesitate.

he kisses you back with all that pent-up energy that’s been simmering since the night started . his hands come up , one to your waist, the other gently cupping the back of your head like he’s scared you’ll pull away . he tastes like whatever was in his cup, a little sweet, a little reckless. when you tug just a little on the hem of his hoodie, that’s all it takes .

his grip tightens.

then, in one smooth move, he lifts you .. hands gripping your thighs as he picks you up and sets you on the edge of the sink like it’s muscle memory . you gasp softly, more out of surprise than anything, but you don’t stop him . you wrap your legs around him , pulling him closer between your thighs, your core heating up .

“goodness,” he breathes against your lips, voice shaking just a bit. “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this.”

your hands are in his hair now , tugging gently. “you should’ve said something sooner.” “i tried,” he whispers, kissing down the line of your jaw. “you didn’t see me.”

“i see you now,” you murmur, breath catching as his lips brush your neck . he pauses, forehead pressing against yours for a second, grounding himself. “this isn’t just some drunk thing for me,” he says low, almost like he needs you to know. “i don’t just want you for tonight.”

you nod, your voice a whisper. “i know.”

he pulls back enough to look you in the eye again , his gaze soft but hungry, full of things he’s been holding back for way too long.

“you sure?”

you reach for his hoodie, fisting the fabric gently as you pull him back in .

“i’ve never been more sure.”

and with that , he kisses you again .. deeper, slower, like he’s finally letting himself feel everything he’s been bottling up. the bathroom fades away. the party outside could fall asleep or fall apart , it wouldn’t matter. right here , right now , it’s just you and him , breathless and warm under dim lights and late-night confessions .

you’re sitting on the edge of the sink, legs wrapped tightly around jisung, your lips still pressed against his, and his hands are everywhere .. on your back, your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely space between you two . his breath’s hot against your neck, making your skin tingle as you feel him shift between your legs, his body pressing into yours .

“god, you feel so good,” he mutters between kisses, his voice husky, almost desperate. his hands move to the hem of your shirt , tugging it up, and you don't stop him. you pull back just enough to let him slip it off, your pulse thundering in your chest.

as the fabric leaves your body, his lips trail down your neck, and he’s kissing you like he’s been starving for this moment for far too long . one hand slides down to your thigh, lifting it up just a bit, getting closer. his touch feels electric , like it’s setting you on fire from the inside out.

you meet his lips again, deeper this time, and the kiss is messy, frantic, like both of you can’t get enough. you can feel his heart pounding as he presses against you, and every movement of his body against yours feels like it’s syncing with your own heartbeat. he pulls away for a second , lips wet and swollen from kissing you, and he looks at you like he’s unsure of something .

“you’re sure?” he asks again, voice barely above a whisper .

you can see the vulnerability in his eyes now, the raw need, and it makes your chest tighten . he’s not just asking for tonight . he’s asking if this is what you want . if you want him . and that’s the moment you can’t take back. you nod, pulling him in by the collar of his hoodie. “i’m sure.”

and just like that, he moves faster. he’s pushing your thighs wider, his hands sliding underneath you, lifting you slightly off the counter. his lips move down to your collarbone, nipping gently, and you can’t stop the soft gasp that escapes your mouth .

you reach for his shirt, yanking it over his head, wanting to feel his skin against yours . he shudders, and that little sound drives you insane . his fingers slide to the waistband of your jeans , and for a second , he hesitates, looking up at you for approval.

you press your hips against his, feeling the heat between you two, and with that one movement, he’s on fire. his fingers unbutton your jeans swiftly , slipping them down your legs , and your breath hitches in your throat . you’re not stopping now .

his lips meet yours again, and his hands are everywhere, pulling you closer, making you feel everything he’s got . you’re both moving so fast , so hungry for each other , that the world outside that bathroom doesn’t exist anymore . it’s just you and him , tangled in each other, breathing heavy.

he shifts, standing up, pulling you with him. he guides you to your feet, hands trailing to the back of your thighs as he lifts you .. his lips finding yours again , hungry , but this time there’s more . you can feel his chest press against yours , and you let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmurs against your lips , his hands slipping to your waist , moving lower .

“then take it,” you breathe, urging him on.

and that’s all the permission he needs.

a stark contrast to the heat blooming in his chest. jisung envisioned this moment a thousand times , each iteration slightly different, but always culminating in this .. the soft curve of your neck, the way your breath hitched in a gasp against his lips. the bathroom mirror , usually a harsh judge of imperfections, reflected only the soft glow of the dim overhead light and the intense focus in your eyes .

his hands, initially hesitant, now pulling your jeans down your legs and pressing his two fingers on your wet and heated core . his fingers circling your panties , setting you over the edge while you shut your eyes close instantly . he leaned in, his lips feather-light against yours, tasting the faint sweetness of the vodka your have previously digested. the kiss deepened, slow and deliberate, your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, quietly begging for more .

jisung felt a shudder run through you that mirrored the one shaking his entire body . he tasted you, fully, savoring the moment with a breathless intensity, now he needed to taste you in other ways . the world outside the bathroom disappeared , replaced by the intimacy of this stolen moment . the silence after the kiss was a comfortable, expectant pause, the lingering taste of you still on his lips.

he looked into your eyes, finally seeing the reflection of his own longing mirrored back, a silent confirmation of everything he’d ever hoped for. then, jisung slowly scoots you off the sink and puts you on the floor , your back aganist the sink cabinet . the gesture felt both intimate and strangely reassuring, solidifying the reality of this moment, a moment years in the making, finally, deliciously, his.

the air in the bathroom feels charged, heavier with every breath you take. all that matters is the heat between you and jisung. the way he’s looking at you, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and now he’s not letting go.

he lifts your panties slightly to the side and takes in the beautiful sight of his thats he's been waiting for , his lips crash onto your core and this time, it’s different. no more games, no more teasing. this is raw. his hand comes up to reach into ur shirt, gripping and playing with your boobs with his cold hands until they were sore . other arm pulling you closer to his face. your back arched against the sink now, you respond without hesitation, you moan loudly .. not caring whos behind the door listening, only caring about how good jisung is making you feel .

jisung groans softly into your cunt, a feeling that sends a shiver down your spine . his tongue is urgent, demanding, but there’s this tenderness in the way he moves with you, like he’s scared to mess up, but it feels like to you .. he's had experiences and experiences .

your bodies are pressed so close now, you can feel the growing pressure as he eats you out as if he was starving . both your groans and moans clashing together like melodies .

the way he looks at you makes your chest tighten . jisung manages to find a part of you, a part that nobody has even discovered , he feels you twisting his hair into a ball . he knew he was almost there . he slows down his tongue action making you groan lowly , whining practically .

you start pulling his face closer, begging for more friction , your body craving more, the tension between you two unbearable . his hands find their way to your hips, drawing small circles with his thumb. every touch, every movement is more intense than the last, pushing both of you closer to the edge .

“jisung…” you whimper, he looks up at you with his low brown eyes

“i’ve wanted this,” you says softly, your voice husky. i’ve wanted you for so long.” "please make me come."

those words sent a rush of heat through his veins. before you can say anything else, he cuts your sentence off once he moves his hand from your hip to your clit .. rubbing frantically and speeding up his tounge, pulling you in tighter , as if he never wants to let go. in this moment, there’s no going back. just you and him, wrapped in the heat of everything, the intensity of his mouth on your core, and the world outside fading into nothing.

you couldnt hold it in anymore , you grab onto his hair tighter than ever .. letting out a pornographic moan as you come down from your high . jisung starts slowing down , observing your scurnched up face and mouth wide open , chuckling into your cunt . he moves his mouth to your inner thighs, giving them soft pepper kisses .

the bathroom’s quiet now , save for the distant thump of music still bleeding in from the living room and the sound of both of you heavy breathing , both of you slow, steady, as you come down from everything that just happened .

the mirror’s fogged. the cool tile beneath you is grounding, but it’s the way jisung’s fingers are lazily tracing patterns along your thigh that really makes the moment settle in.

your back still leaning lightly against the sink, your legs tangled up , his hair bunched up and messy, and both of you are sweating . neither of you had the energy or desire to fully put yourselves back together just yet.

jisung pulls your panties back up, “you good?” he asks, voice low and just a little rough from everything. you nod against him, exhaling a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. “yeah… i’m good.”

there’s a pause ... a quiet, weightless moment where you both just exist together . his hand’s now running slow up and down your thigh, his thumb making lazy circles on your skin.

“i can’t believe that just happened,” you murmur with a soft laugh, your voice somewhere between disbelief and that post-everything high. he chuckles too, but there’s a softness in it. a kind of awe. “me either,” he says, tilting his head back to rest against the wall. “but… also, i’ve been dreaming about it for months, so part of me’s like .. finally.”

you glance up at him. he’s flushed, sweaty, but somehow still ridiculously beautiful . his hair’s a mess, his lips soft and swollen, but his eyes? they’re completely clear. focused. on you.

“really?” you whisper.

jisung nods, meeting your gaze. “yeah. it wasn’t just… this. ,i’ve wanted you. like, all of you. just didn’t know if you saw me the same.” your fingers move to his jaw, thumb brushing along the edge of it. “i do now.”

that little smile he gives you right then ... it’s sleepy, a little crooked, and so full of warmth it makes your heart ache a bit .

“good,” he says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple. “because i don’t think i can pretend anymore.”

he shifts a little, pulling you into his lap now, both of you curled up like this bathroom is your own little world. you rest your head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arms around you like it’s the most natural thing in the world .

you don’t say much after that.

you don’t need to.

it’s all in the way he holds you , the way your fingers stay laced together even when your eyes start to flutter shut, and the way he whispers “mine” under his breath, like he’s claiming the peace you just created together.

giselle steps out of the guest room, hoodie slung over one shoulder, eyes still half-shut, her pineapple vape dangling between two fingers. she blinks at the dark living room, bodies knocked out in random positions .. felix curled up on the floor with a pillow over his head, jaemin and jake snoring softly from opposite ends of the couch. one red cup’s tipped over near someone’s foot, and someone else’s sock is just… chilling on the lampshade.

she’s headed to the bathroom , half-asleep, half-thirsty ,when she stops. freezes .

muffled voices. soft giggles. the unmistakable sound of lips meeting.

she squints at the bathroom door, cracked open just barely .

and hears it. everything.

the kissing. the breathy talking. the soft moans. the whispering. the "i’ve wanted you for so long."

giselle’s eyes go wide as hell.

she gasps , quietly ... but slaps her hand over her mouth in pure shock . then she tiptoes backward like a cartoon character , eyes still stuck on the door like it’s possessed. she bumps into the hallway wall and mutters, "no. way. no. WAY."

she spins around, rushing back into the living room, looking at all her drunk, unconscious friends like:

“Y’ALL!! GET UP!! WAIT . NO OMG THEY’RE—” she whisper-yells.

but no one stirs.

not even a twitch.

she stands there, both hands in her hair, pacing in small circles like she just witnessed a government secret. she looks at jaemin. he’s drooling. she looks at yujin. she’s hugging a couch cushion like it’s her soulmate.

“no, no, no ... y’all gon’ make me hold this in all night?” she hisses, looking around like someone has to be awake.

nobody is.

so giselle flops face-first onto the empty recliner, lets out the biggest dramatic sigh, and mutters into the cushion:

“...i can’t believe I just heard y/n and jisung doing the nastiest in the damn bathroom and i got NOBODY to talk to about it. this is evil . this is war.”

She pauses, then grabs her vape and hits it once with a tragic look in her eyes.

"pineapple-scented trauma,” she mumbles, exhaling dramatically.

MORNING

The bedroom door creaks open.

jisung enters the living room .

hair wild. shirt halfway on. sleepy. slightly limping. clearly just woke up from the best dream of his life.

he freezes .

the whole squad?

staring.

silent.

like a wildlife documentary and he’s the prey .

and from the couch, jaemin, dead serious, just lets the first words drop like a mic:

“what the fuck.”

AUTHORS NOTE: THANK U SM FOR READING !! i swear i spent like 4 hours on this i fear .. MAYBE WE'LL GET A PART 2 MAYBE NOT IDK !! (excuse the spelling mistakes , this was written at 10 pm - 2 am)

PART 2: https://www.tumblr.com/sosakali/781493404476571648

#nct smut #kpop smut #kpop rp #smut #kpop #park jisung #jisung x reader #nct jisung #nct dream #nct #kpop x reader #for you #for yall

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inkspiredwriting · 9 months ago

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Wedding Woes

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Planning a wedding should be a joyous occasion, but for Five Hargreeves and his fiancée Y/N, it quickly turned into a battlefield of hilarious disagreements. From the moment they decided to tie the knot, every decision seemed to spark a new debate.

“Chocolate!” Five declared, arms crossed, as they sat in the office of Sweet Sensations, the premier bakery in town.

“Red velvet!” Y/N countered, her eyes sparkling with determination.

The baker, caught between the two, held up a tentative hand. “We could do a combination cake?”

Five and Y/N turned to her, then back to each other, shaking their heads simultaneously. “Nope.”

“What’s wrong with red velvet?” Y/N argued, her brow furrowing. “It’s elegant and delicious.”

Five scoffed. “Chocolate is a classic. And I don’t trust a cake that’s named after a fabric.”

“Fine,” Y/N said, rolling her eyes. “What about the design?”

“Simple and clean,” Five said, envisioning a minimalistic cake.

Y/N, however, had other ideas. “I was thinking something with a little more... flair. Maybe some flowers, intricate designs—”

Before Five could retort, Klaus burst into the bakery, trailed by Diego and Luther. “Hey, lovebirds! How’s the cake tasting going?”

Five sighed. “We’re just... debating the finer points.”

Klaus waggled his eyebrows. “Why not go with a giant rainbow cake? It’s festive!”

Diego chuckled. “I vote for something with bacon on it.”

Luther just looked confused. “Do people put bacon on cakes?”

The baker looked like she might faint.

In the end, they settled on a layered cake with alternating tiers of chocolate and red velvet, topped with simple but elegant decorations. It wasn’t exactly what either had envisioned, but it was a compromise—a word that Five was rapidly learning to accept.

Next on the list was the music. Five preferred a live jazz band, while Y/N was leaning toward a playlist of their favorite songs.

“Jazz sets the mood,” Five insisted, adjusting his tie as they met with a potential band leader in their living room.

“Yeah, the mood for a 1920s speakeasy,” Y/N shot back. “We need something more modern, something we can really dance to.”

The band leader, an older gentleman with a pencil-thin mustache, interjected. “We can do a mix, if you’d like?”

Before either could respond, Viktor wandered in, carrying his violin. “Need a musician? I can play Anything you want.”

Five perked up. “Can you do jazz?”

Viktor nodded. “Of course. But I also know some contemporary pieces.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “What about ‘You Are the Best Thing’ by Ray LaMontagne?”

Viktor smiled. “I can do that.”

Five threw up his hands. “Fine, let’s have Viktor play. Just... not too much Ray LaMontagne.”

Klaus sauntered in, a mischievous grin on his face. “I could DJ! Imagine the fun we’d have with a mix of 80s pop and punk rock!”

Five stared at him. “Absolutely not.”

When it came to decorations, Five wanted sleek and modern, while Y/N envisioned a romantic, rustic theme.

“We need string lights and mason jars,” Y/N said, flipping through a wedding magazine.

Five groaned. “We’re not having a Pinterest wedding. How about something more sophisticated? Like geometric centerpieces.”

“Geometric?” Y/N laughed. “What are we, hosting a math conference?”

Lila, who had shown up uninvited but was enjoying the chaos, added her two cents. “I think you should go with a theme park idea. Imagine—carnival games, cotton candy, maybe even a Ferris wheel!”

Y/N laughed. “Actually, that sounds kind of fun.”

Five buried his face in his hands. “We’re not turning our wedding into a circus.”

In the end, they settled on a rustic-chic blend with some modern touches—fairy lights and mason jars for Y/N, and sleek tableware and geometric designs for Five. It was a mix that surprisingly worked, combining the best of both their visions.

Even the wedding invitations were a source of contention. Five wanted them to be minimalist and elegant, while Y/N wanted something more whimsical and colorful.

“This font is too boring,” Y/N complained, staring at the sample invite. “It doesn’t scream ‘fun.’”

Five rubbed his temples. “We’re not throwing a rave, Y/N. We’re getting married. It should be timeless.”

Klaus, had another idea. “Why not go with a pop-up invitation? Like those 3D books! People would love that.”

Five shot him a look. “We’re not making pop-up books, Klaus.”

Despite the disagreements, the wedding day arrived, and everything was miraculously coming together. Five and Y/N stood at the altar, their family and friends gathered around them. The setting was a perfect blend of their styles—rustic yet sophisticated, whimsical yet elegant.

As they exchanged vows, Five couldn’t help but smile at Y/N. Despite their differences, their love for each other had only grown stronger through the process. It was clear that, no matter the debates, they were perfect for each other.

When they shared their first kiss as husband and wife, the crowd erupted into applause, and Klaus, predictably, started a slow clap that turned into an impromptu chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Five’s siblings had their mishaps—Klaus accidentally spilled champagne on Viktor’s suit, Lila got into a friendly wrestling match with Allison over the bouquet, and Luther accidentally triggered a sound system malfunction that blasted “Never Gonna Give You Up” at full volume during the toasts.

At the end of the night, as they danced under the twinkling lights, Five pulled Y/N close and whispered, “You know, despite all the chaos, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. “Not even the part where we almost had a bacon cake?”

Five chuckled. “Not even that. Well... maybe a little.”

Y/N laughed, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you, Five Hargreeves. Even if you have terrible taste in cakes.”

Five grinned, wrapping his arms around her. “And I love you, Y/N Hargreeves. Even if you have questionable taste in everything else.”

As they swayed to the music, surrounded by their chaotic but loving family, Five realized that the debates, the compromises, and the occasional disaster were all part of what made their love story uniquely theirs.

And for Five and Y/N, that was all they ever wanted.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot

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3liza · 2 years ago

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I feel very defensive about the "goth is bougie" shit because it is historically incorrect, yes, but also and more personally, because it just erases the generations of goth kids who grew up in trailer parks and project housing or just straight up homeless, helping each other out.

it's specifically such a supportive subculture for poor and neglected kids and I really fucking hate that this has been revised and erased. juggalos and goths are very culturally close and many subcultural people are both, and juggalos have the same (and, I would argue, even better defined) culture of collective support. the Skids in Letterkenny are not made up for the show, that's just a real type of rural subcultural person. this has also been forgotten in the interim but in the 90s and 00s we didn't even really refer to OURSELVES as "goths" very much except in a joking way. goths had regional endonyms (like "skids" or "trenchies") even if they could all go to a convention or a club in a city and in that context be all called "goths" together, once they went back home they would go back to being whatever the locals called them or whatever they called themselves. this is a whole linguistics and sociology subtopic that's out of scope for a Tumblr post but is sort of related.

my point is that people who wore actual rags, and sharpie instead of nail polish, and wet n wild eyeliner instead of black lipstick, and dyed their hair with markers or food coloring or kool-aid, were and are the core of the goth scene. the majority of the pictures the mallgoth blogs are posting are from catalogs, fashion shows, costume events, yearly balls and fetes like Wave Gothik Treffen, and other places where people save up literally all year, or many years in a row, to put together ONE outfit. and there's nothing wrong with that, personally I'm proud and pleased that our hard work is being recognized and preserved. but just like formal studio photographs from the Victorian era, it is not representative of the daily or even weekly (for clubs) reality of people in the scene, some of whom were completely out of goth clothing during the day or week just to fit in at work or sometimes just to get along without being bothered at home by family members who thought the Cure was Satanic.

the people who RUN the scenes, the promoters and DJs and gogo dancers and independent designers and people who run the mailing lists and websites, the people who organize the room parties at conventions, and yes even most of the original Burning Man camps like Thunderdome, they mostly live in poverty. especially if they're young. when people organize club nights and shows, they're lucky if they break even. I wasn't aware of any of this until I started working at DNA Lounge in San Francisco, which hosts one of the oldest goth nights in the country, Death Guild. I got to know the owner of DNA well enough to find out about the financial reality of the entire scene, even the people who own the means of production and the actual property in this case, and it's not lucrative. I mean, it sometimes is, if you're running a bar for normal people and have investment captain etc, but the majority of legit subculture economics is just barely breaking even. every single event is 90% volunteer labor.

the issue of labor is maybe the confusing thing for the zoomers who are confused. goth outfits take actual physical work. maybe the Aspirational Spectacle of Labor that makes up most of TikTok has made it appear unreal to the audience rather than something you can just sit down and do?

it takes forty seconds to make the fishnet tights into a shirt. you don't need instructions, you really can just look at it and figure it out. then you think, hm, if I can make fishnets into a shirt I wonder what other things I can turn into something else. your brain will amaze you. my mom would save her tights from her formal work outfits for me when they got holes or whatever and I would just go crazy with scissors and safety pins. lots of young designers are getting attention for this layered, tights-n-pins look at the moment and it really is a fantastic aesthetic but I wonder if people think there's something special about the people who make these clothes? there isn't. you can just do it at home while you watch trashy youtubes.

one time, around 2008 or so, @gothiccharmschool and I were at the photoshoot for tabletop RPG Unhallowed Metropolis. we were there with a bunch of local goths to all make the pictures for this book together. we had all brought tons of our costumes from home to cobble together outfits for the book illustrations, and there was a moment when I just handed Jilli a pile of black skirts and some pins and said hey Jilli, could you please make me up a bustle skirt for this model real quick while I shoot these other models? and of course she did, and they were beautiful, because she knows exactly what she's doing, and because that's all a bustle is: it's a way of bunching up a skirt with another skirt. you can do it at home. you don't need instructions or to hire a seamstress or watch a video. you can just look at something and say hm does it look like a bustle? let's drape it and play with it and pin whatever works. and then you wear it for the photoshoot, or to the club!!! and then next week you pin it a different way and it's a cape instead and you wear it again!!!!!!!

#blog #goth history #goth #looking like absolute shit at the club #as is my sacred right

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whowrotethenote · 21 days ago

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𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

A/N // This is another short story in the universe of Biggest Fan. This takes place after Pt 3 All We Do. Everyone can thank this anon 💗

Warnings // Brief angst // Mild smut // Profanity // Age gap // Adultery

Word count // 4.1k

Inspo // Pulled some inspo for the scenes from My Sister’s Keeper. Very good movie—I recommend everybody watch.

Disclaimer // Part Three // Biggest Fan Masterlist // Roman Reigns Masterlist // Join My Taglist // Main Masterlist

May 31, 2024

Prom.

I heard it’s one of those days a girl will remember for the rest of her life. Like her wedding day. Sweet sixteen. Bachelorette party. First baby shower. Graduating high-school. Turning twenty-one or thirty.

All eyes on her. Sisters, family friends, and cousins, all with a hand in helping her get ready. Soaked in the attention and exhilarating commotion of it all. Looking in the mirror with nowhere to hide. Face all done up, hair laid to perfection, with a long and elegant dress that never seemed perfect enough—all to come to the liberating realization of, ‘damn, I really am one of one.’

Posing every which way for everyone’s camera.

“Look this way!”

“Smile!”

“Get closer!”

“Okay, now one with Daddy!”

The tears in her mother’s eyes as she admires her handy work from afar. The realization that her babygirl is no longer that—both equally gut-wrenching and rhapsodic. Her father—arms crossed and watching the madness with the same epiphany as mom.

Riding in the limo feeling like Cinderella with her horse and carriage. Her Prince seated next to her, who really is nothing more than a glorified accessory. Closest friends from her class surrounding them, passing liquor they weren’t old enough to have back and forth, trying not to spill it on their expensive tuxes and gowns.

Dancing all night and having to take the heels off you spent weeks deciding on. The bright lights. The music that set the tone for your youth. The drama. Judging Prom King and Prom Queen. Creating moments that’ll grant themselves a single apartment space in your mind, no matter if you want them to or not. Letting your date feel you up back in the limo or one of his friend’s cars—and maybe, just maybe going all the way.

And all the years after—a sparkle forming in her eye as she reminisces on being young, carefree and beautiful. Rushing to pull her phone and scroll through the archives to show off a picture of a girl she didn’t even know anymore.

Prom night. It's one of those nights a girl will never forget. At least that’s what I’ve heard…

The hospital is hosting their annual Prom Night Gala tonight. A celebration for the high-school patients who won’t ever have that traditional night to remember, due to the burden of their body attacking itself from the inside out.

We allow the younger kids to participate too. My little warrior Jaylen, is my date— a fact I didn’t know until he so proudly announced it this morning during rounding. Poor, Demi. I think he switched up on her last minute.

All the biggest donors come out if they can. There’s a real DJ. Catered food. If we’re lucky at least one artist who’s actually been on the radio before, comes to perform live. The ballroom on the second floor is made to look like a real high school gym. Vegas Nights. That’s the theme this year. And we did not disappoint.

Billboards. Fake palm trees. Neon lights and sparkling signs. Slot machines. Even a Blackjack and Roulette table set up with dealers. Blown up playing cards and dice on the stage. Showgirls in the most exotic, feather headdresses and sequined costumes. It looks like Las Vegas Boulevard threw up in here. Billie Eilish and Tyla are scheduled to do fifteen minute sets each soon. Not a single expense has been spared.

Kids from every floor accompanied by all the staff who are volunteering for the night, spread amongst the room like ants. Everyone dressed to impress. Floor length gowns, gaudy jewelry, and dark tuxedos.

My current role is simple. Stand by the door and greet all the guests. The champagne colored silk gown with an open back, by a designer I never even heard of—sways elegantly as I abandon my post for just a second to grab something to drink. I shake my head at the bubbling of grape sparkling cider dancing on my tongue in the very misleading champagne flute. It’s not that I was expecting the real thing—but it made me think about Demi telling me she hid some wine in the staff room to help everyone get through the night.

Fishing through possible escape routes to swiftly snag some of the real thing and return before anyone notices I’m even gone—I’m temporarily thrown off by a familiar boisterous voice from behind me where the entrance is.

“Very nice to see you, again!” I know that voice. Turning in place, my eyes lock on them immediately. Paul Heyman in his usual suit and tie attire, shaking hands with the Steven J Corwin—the hospital’s CEO.

Beside both prominent men, a shocking presence of the most prominent of them all— the Tribal Chief himself.

Spheres of light bounce off of his sharp features in the dimly lit room. He’s just perfect. It's impossible not to stare. I’ve seen that face all year round and I find a new attribute to obsess over each time. Tonight, I think it's his ears. As big as they are, they fit him.

His dark hair shines as usual. Dark grey suit tailored perfectly against his stocky frame. Designer shoes I'm sure, with a plain Jane silver watch to top it all off. Don’t let the lack of jewels fool you. I’m sure the watch is worth ten times the decorations and accommodations of the room we stand in.

A full breath escapes past my lips after subconsciously holding it. He’s like a UFO. Doesn’t matter how frequent or lack there of, of the sighting—it’s always a spectacle. His presence and absence felt in equally consuming shifts. Magnetic. The most proper way to describe him—Roman or Joe.

He must feel me. His eyes scan the full room and the closer they shift to me, the quicker my breath picks up and the denser the tornado in my stomach becomes.

His eyes land on me like bombs. First my face and gradually down the rest of my body and back up.

“Hi,” he mouths. A smile tugging at the corner of his upper lip.

“Hi,” I mouth back.

My head bows, concealing the smile burning my face. Not just from him, but from anyone else walking by that has no access or awareness of our bubble. All the man did was greet you, Lana.

His eyes penetrate my body again. A subtle shake of his head following after, ensuing heat.

“Wow,” he mouths. In this more than air conditioned room, it begins to feel as hot as it’s been outside the past few weeks. Scorching. Immediate cause for perspiration.

I want to run to him. Squeeze him. Feel myself fold under the weight of his muscular arms. Kiss him a thousand times and thank him for the gifts, but especially the G Wagon full of roses. I haven’t seen him since Miami. Everyday felt like a month without him. The time spent apart always expands the affection. I needed answers. Not from Paul, but directly from him. I was desperate for them. But standing right here, right now—watching him watch me with no concern for who could be watching us—I don’t care for the why.

Just a mere hour into the gala and I am suffering in silence. A boiling pot whose water is ready to overflow. His tall frame is a good length on the other side of the room by the stage. Still, the invisible string, the force of a magnet draws me to him no matter what. Like the sun I feel his eyes beaming on me every now and again.

Billie croons When The Party’s Over into the microphone with the dreamlike beat casting over the room—serenading everyone. Everyone swaying in pairs. Some staff. Parents. The patients.

I'll only hurt you if you let me

Call me friend, but keep me closer

In a trance, his bold eyes warping me in from across the way, I feel a familiar presence next to me accompanied by vanilla perfume. I look over at Demi who now stands by me, surveying the room in her all black halter neck gown. Stunning as ever.

“Ghost ward,” she mumbles. I feel her tugging my phone from my hand. It’s then I pick up what she puts down.

I bunch the silk material in my hand, careful not to step on it and make a beeline to the double doors. Swinging them open, I enter into the hallway. A few of the staff and some parents of the patients linger about. I offer a small smile walking further down the hall to find another door with a steps sign on it.

Pushing it open, my heels clack against the steps as I anticipate the slam of the door—but it's delayed. Another pair of footsteps follow shortly after. Two more floors. I hike the dress up a little higher.

Landing on the floor I intend to, I push the door open again with less force than usual as to not alarm anyone. I kick my heels off and tip toe past the security station. Per usual, the greying man who’s always on duty on this floor, that’s mostly empty, is counting sheep. Neck craning, mouth agape, with drool falling out one side. I shake my head.

The further I walk down the hall, the more eerie it becomes. Colder. Less inviting. Hospitals will never fail to throw me off. They just reek of death and despair.

Nobody ever comes down this ward. Hence the ghost ward. There was a flooring issue when the hospital first expanded some years ago, which prompted the hospital to remove majority of the equipment from the OR’s, seeing as they were declared unfit for procedures.

I don’t look back once. I already know he’s following me. I can feel him. Gentle giant. Intimidating and comforting all at once. He is a walking paradox that keeps me up at night more than I like to admit.

I stop at one room in particular. No significance. All the rooms are empty the same. This one just feels right.

Just as I reach out and grab the handle, a large hand comes over my shoulder, assisting me in opening it. That comforting manly scent robbing my smell. Another hand gripping my hip guiding us in. It's cold and dark. Moonlight streaks from the shut blinds, serving as the only incision to being able to see.

A subtle push from his hands on my hips, brings us all the way in with literally no end in sight. My hands reach out to find the cold surface of the wall. Only things to be heard are his footsteps on the linoleum floor and our uneven breathing patterns.

Through the chilling air, his warm mouth makes contact with the left side of my neck. I angle it to make room for him, sucking in a sharp breath. Four weeks without his touch was pure torture. I was a fiend taking her first hit. He inhales deep as if he’s trying to create a memory with the smell.

Open mouth kisses find my shoulder now, as he expertly pulls the thin strap down, coaxing me to follow suit on the right strap. The thin material pools around my hips, exposing my breast to the icy room. He kisses down, starting at my upper back, middle and then the space right above my ass. The hairs of his beard pricking me while he leaves a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his kisses.

He sinks his teeth down, sending a shocking tingle everywhere that matters. I’m dripping wet. I can feel it.

I’m supposed to be thanking him, but somehow this feels like another gift stacked atop of the others.

Gently, his big hand nudges my hip to turn me around. My eyes bounce over his. Looking for his approval, but all I find is something else. Something deeper—something grander. It covers us like a heated blanket.

His pointer finger reaches out. On my stomach at first, then up to the side of my ribs where my left boob rests. He comes up further, outlining the shape of my breast. My eyes follow his, which follow the trail of his finger. My nipples pebble harder under the soft touch, excitement brewing, growing more feral with every lingering second.

Then his hand comes all the way up by my face. He tugs gently at one of the loose curls falling around my face instead of inside the hair clip. It recoils like the metal coil inside a battery holder, hitting my nose, causing us both to release something between a deep breath and a laugh in the small space between us.

His hand disappears behind me. I feel the relief of my clip being undone as my curls fall down over my shoulders. We stand in silence as I take him in, while he takes in all of his alterations of me. Every second that goes by makes it harder to stand still and not touch him.

He starts to lean down. My eagerness not allowing me any patience as I close my eyes and lean in the meet him halfway, but theres nothing but air before me. Opening my eyes, he’s right there. So I close them again and lean further—finding nothing but space again. My eyes pop open. I lean more and catch him inching back with a sly smirk.

I let go. Allowing him to have his way and take control like always. Staying as still and patient as possible until his lips finally brush against mine. Soft as a fluffy blanket fresh out the dryer. His stiff tongue finds its way past my lips. Twirling and sucking every crevice he can find. Mirroring the way he eats at me down below, making my insides sear like I am sweating out a fever.

My hands grab at his suit jacket, nearly popping the buttons from trying to get it off of him. He’s left in the black tee that was under it—snug and form fitting over his muscles. Exactly how I prefer him.

My bottom lip gets caught in between his. I moan out for the first time when his head dips to flick my hardened nipples. His vast, wet tongue rolling over one and then sucking like he expects something to come from it.

A strong hand wraps around me, pulling me up while the other guides a leg around his waist. My back collides with the frigid wall as he leverages me between it and his hard body, while he takes off the shirt. I steal another fervent kiss before it's even all the way off and cop feels of his rigid abs. His body is unbelievable.

The unbuckling of his belt has my heart pounding out of my chest. He scrunches the dress up higher on my hips before rubbing himself up and down my dripping slit. Thick and heavy. He slides all the way in, driving me up the wall. We both release a sharp breath as my hands cup the sides of his face. Not forgetting to show those big ears some love.

He had done so good in the foreplay and building up the blocks of anticipation, I nearly cum upon entry. It’s just that damn good.

He stays right there for a minute. Every time he breathes out, I breathe in and vice versa. He licks into my mouth again. Driving himself in—barely out—then back in again at a steady pace.

“Mmm,” I groan. Still trapping my expressions with his kiss. I grip his massive shoulders tight.

“Always so wet for me,” he whispers on my lips. “Fit me so perfectly,” he adds before groaning out.

I throw my head back against the wall. Growing more delirious with every thrust and every praise that makes it past those plump lips.

“My prom was nothing like this.”

“Yeah, cause it was eighteen seventy-six,” I counter. I squirm and giggle when I feel a firm finger dig into my side.

I lay in only a black thong. My head in his lap as he rests his bare back against the wall, with long legs outstretched and crossing at the ankles. Our clothes spread and decorating the floor around us. The tiny window on the door slightly fogging still from the aftereffects of all we’ve done in the small space.

“All we had was a DJ. Some tables with some bullshit tablecloths. A chip and juice table maybe. I don’t know. Definitely no Billie Eilish. And no craps table—that’s for damn sure.” I laugh. The dealer tables were a bit much. Half of these kids didn’t even follow the rules to Uno—let alone any other card game. I remember one time Demi and I almost had to hem Jaylen up for throwing a draw two over my regular two. “What about you, babygirl? What was prom like?”

An immediate sense of pain internally flushes through me. The kind when a bad memory that you thought of as forgotten is now unlocked and recovered.

I shake my head. “I-I didn’t go. Got all dressed up and…the hospital called. My dad had to go into emergency surgery. The cancer was in his brain and he had a lot of seizures.” The flashbacks come quick and steady. Not even getting a chance to properly wipe off the makeup my mom spent an hour on, that the tears ended up washing away on their own. The deafening silence as we all sat in the waiting room, my dress still on, anticipating to hear something—anything from the nurses or a doctor. "So, yeah I ended up not going. Didn’t even make it into the limo.”

I don't look up. I keep my focus stagnant on my low French tips. I don’t need the look. I already know the one. The pity. Poor Lana. She missed her senior prom because her dad was sick. I don’t need to see him. The pity is all in the heavy silence that follows my mood killing story.

“So… in a way…this is your prom too? Not just the kids?”

I stop messing around with my nails, letting his perspective sink in.

“I guess so—yeah.”

“So, did I live up to that prom date expectation?”

“I heard that the girl was supposed to give it up after prom.” His deep chuckle serenades the room. “But other than that, I guess you did okay. Even though you stole me from my original date. Jaylen already called dibs. Shame on you.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I think I saw little man feeling on Tyla out there.”

“Men.” Our amusement dies down and the room is quiet again. A small buzz from the air vent above us.

“Why a G Wagon?” I cut sharply through the silence finally.

“You remember that night in the Hamptons? The first time,” he clarifies. “When we left the house.” Boy, I dream about that night. I nod. “You couldn’t stop touching the car. You didn’t have to say it. I could tell.” Something inside me stirs. He watches me even when I think he’s not paying me any mind. “How is it though? It’s driving alright?”

“Mmhm,” I hum.

“Might have to take me for a ride one of these days,” he proposes. But I know better. Idle hopes that do not cater to our situation. One of these days. Yeah—picture that.

“And the roses?”

One of his shoulders go up. “Just my own personal touch.” My head is in a frenzy, but I’m also on a cloud. I want to bombard him with a thousand questions. All the questions Demi and I raked through the day the truck got delivered.

What does this mean?

Has he done this before?

Should I keep it?

Whose name is it in?

Do men still offer women they don’t like flowers? A car full of them?

I’m afraid to pop the bubble we sit in with my curiosity. So I let it fly. Take it for what it is in the moment. Always. And just float.

“I didn’t know you were coming. Paul didn’t call.” I relax into the sensation of his fingers kneading my scalp through the thickness of my curls. He’s definitely done this before.

“It was a last minute decision, really. Couldn’t think of a better way to spend my birthday than to give back and make these kids feel as special as they are.”

I gasp. “Someone did just have a birthday last week. Didn’t they?” I angle my neck in a way that I’m able to catch the grin tugging at his lips.

“That’s right,” he confirms.

“What are you—like fifty now?”

“Ha ha ha.” He pokes my side again, igniting a tickle.

“What did you do?” I don’t know why every time I spot a wound, I feel the need to pick at it until it’s bleeding out. Why—why would I want to know the details of how he spent his birthday surrounded by family? His wife, his children—his cousins—all the people that mean something. All the people he can see in the light of day and doesn’t have to engage with in darkness. All persons that would turn their nose up at me at first glance.

“Santorini.” My eyebrow raise. “You ever been out of the country?” He inquires.

I poke a kiss swollen bottom lip out shaking my head in his lap still. “Only when I was younger. Family trip to Cancun. And I think we went to the Bahamas when I was eight. I don’t really remember any of it. Only seen pictures.”

“Mm,” he hums. He slides his slender fingers in between mine like a completed puzzle.

“If I had known you were coming, I would’ve gotten you a birthday gift.”

“You would’ve gotten me a gift?”

“Yeah. Why not?” Then I think about it. A man with endless money and access. Exactly what could I give him that he doesn’t already have or can’t obtain himself? A gift is only a gift if its unattainable to the person receiving it…I grab his wrist squinting to read the analog clock's hands in the room absent of any light, save for the moonlight splitting through the blinds. It’s nine forty-eight.

Raising up, I step back into the silk gown, pulling the straps all the way up. He peers up at me with an eyebrow quirking up. “Come on,” I urge. I toss the black tee he had on under his suit jacket into his lap. “You might just get that ride tonight, after all.”

After making Miss Tonia a believer of my sudden nausea turned possible stomach virus, I pull the G Wagon to the first level of the hospital garage just before the parking arm.

The security in the booth too focused on the mini TV to notice anything going on outside those walls. He comes out still sleek as ever as if he didn’t just fuck me into oblivion. I slide over on the passenger side.

He shuts the door and secures his seatbelt while adjusting the seat to accommodate his massive frame. “Where are we going?” I lean an elbow on the center console.

“Panzarotti?” The wrinkles of his brows soften as his face lights up with the joy reminiscent of a child. It makes my heart beat faster. “It's already in the GPS.”

I roll the window down as much as I can without giving anyone a clear shot of who’s in the driver seat. I wave my badge over the monitor and the bar lifts so we can pull off.

On the extensive I-95, we breeze through the traffic in the fast lane. To my left—the most handsome man holding the steering wheel with one steady hand adorned with his silver watch. To my right—more cars through the tinted window plus the towering greenery on the side of the highway, that just appears as black shadowy figures.

I get a flashback of taking this same drive in August of last year with the same driver. Only we were so different. Not just as individuals but with one another. The sun was setting. A pinkish hue etched in the sky. Cola by Lana Del Rey played, singing the soundtrack to what had became of my life.

I roll the window down just like I did that night. The wind loud in my ears—immediately whipping my curls every which way.

I arch my back over the window, letting my head hang freely in the night air of spring. I haven’t felt like this…well in forever. This feeling is new—foreign. Liberating. Even with all the hurdles and secrets. I’m young and I have everything that I didn’t use to. What a time to be alive.

This is my prom night. A night I’ll never forget, indeed.

A/N // i switched the idea up a little i hope you still like it anon💗

i know there were some things mentioned in this short that you all haven't seen yet. the unseen days in the Hamptons. the panzerotti insider. all these shorts are coming so i can fill in the gaps for y'all. everything will make sense eventually, i swear.

the next short i post will be about Lana & Jaire. then expect 5 or so more shorts after that. i have to get them out of the way because they shed light on a lot of what’s to come in the next chapter Desires. i think there’s a lot more y’all need to see before i do what i’m about to do in the next chapter…🌚

As always, if you read it or even just a portion, I am forever grateful and appreciative. Feedback is always welcomed. Happy reading💗

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sophie-hatter-jenkins · 2 months ago

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Part 8: Messy

A March 2025 Hinny Microfic for @ginnystrophyhusband using Prompt 9

689 words (that's more like it)

All the March prompts that I write will be set in the same universe as, and form a prequel to, this fic. Hopefully they'll all stand alone, but they'll also form a little story of their own, which is why they're numbered.

Fair warning - it's going to be fluffy!

Read them all from the beginning on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the evening that Harry and Ginny host their Painting Party, Harry is fascinated by the very different ways in which their friends and family approach the task in hand.

Ron hasn’t actually left the kitchen, AKA the closest spot to the pizza boxes and the cooler containing bottles of beer, but despite the amount of food and drink he’s consumed, he’s nearly finished the whole room. He’s definitely the evening’s MVP.

Hermione is neat and methodical (shocker), but also painfully slow. They’ve been painting for almost two hours, and she’s barely finished the first coat on her designated wall.

Neville is an absolute liability. Decorating is clearly not his thing, because so far, he’s tripped over one paint can, dropped his brush into another, and spilled paint all down his jumper. At least some of it made it onto the wall too, which, Harry supposes, is all that really counts.

Luna applies the paint in random daubs and swirls, following an intricate pattern that only she can see. If she had any colours available other than Nordic Sky, Harry thinks it would probably be absolutely beautiful.

George hasn’t actually picked up a paintbrush at all, having nominated himself as DJ for the evening. Ginny’s made several pointed comments about it, all of which George has ignored, but Harry doesn’t mind; it makes the painting party feel like more of an actual party. Besides, he’s brought Angelina with him, and she’s more than made up for George’s lack of productivity.

It goes without saying, though, that his favourite person to watch is Ginny. Typically, she approaches painting with commitment and enthusiasm. She’s currently attempting to get a straight line between the wall and the skirting board (which Ron tells him is called ‘cutting in’), and Harry can see the very tip of her tongue, velvety pink, poking out from between her lips, the way it does when she is really concentrating in something. It’s messy work, though; there’s paint on her knees and all over her fingers, and Harry smiles fondly when he realises that she’s got a splodge on the tip of her nose too.

“You got any buckets, mate?” asks Ron, sidling up to him and handing over one of the two bottles of beer he’s holding.

Harry’s alarmed. “Yeah. Why? Is something wrong?”

Ron smirks at him. “Too bloody right. That soppy expression you get on your face when you look at my sister. It’s nauseating.”

Harry snorts with laughter and takes a pull of his beer. “I could say the same about you and Hermione, you know.”

“You’re really doing this? Moving in together?” asks Ron.

“Yeah, we really are,” Harry nods.

Ron shrugs. “Big step,” he observes.

“You’re okay with it, right?” The question is out of Harry’s mouth before he can stop it, even though Harry knows that Ron’s absolutely fine with him and Ginny; that hasn’t been a question for literally years. It’s also completely redundant, because it isn’t like Ron’s answer would change anything, not now.

“Course,” Ron confirms anyway, taking a swig of beer. “I’m definitely fine with it, even if I don’t understand it.”

Harry’s known Ron long enough to recognise a set-up when he hears one. “Go on, then. What about this confuses you?”

“Honestly, the part of me that grew up with Ginny is always going to wonder what the hell you see in my annoying brat of a kid sister, but you seem quite keen on her, so I guess there’s no accounting for taste.”

Harry lets out a puff of laughter. “Yeah well. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I took a blow to the head when I was a kid.”

Ron snorts. “I think it was mentioned once or twice. Seriously though, I’m made up for both of you. I can see how happy both are.” He eyes Harry speculatively. “I do have one really important question for you, though.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not telling her about the paint on her nose, right?”

Now it’s Harry’s turn to smirk. He looks back at Ginny, still cutting in like an absolute trooper. “Nope.”

#harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter fanfiction #ginnystrophyhusband

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dramaticallytotal · 4 months ago

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TDWT Headcanons Pt. 7

Part 1 Last Part

• Leshawna, Cody, Noah, Harold, Sierra, Gwen, Ezekiel, and Duncan have allergies. Leshawna with pineapples, Cody with so many freaking bugs and goat saliva, Noah is allergic to bees, wasps, pollen, and dust. Harold has many but most notably crab apples and gummy slugs. Sierra is a little allergic to soy. Gwen is allergic to eucalyptus. Finally, Ezekiel has a slight allergy to peanuts. It's not bad, but he really hates it because he likes the taste of peanuts.

• Noah has so much blackmail on Chris it's not even funny. Mainly, it's embarrassing blackmail because the man has a bad habit of texting Noah his 3 am. thoughts, and they are all so freaking stupid.

One of his favorites was "Do you think Chef would love me if I was worm?"

Followed by

"Do you think he'd love me more if I could cook?"

Then

"Would he love me if I was a cooking worm like that stupid animated rat?"

• New Labels!! We all know everyone gets a label, so I'm either giving them new ones or tweaking their old ones or leaving them the same. We shall go alphabetically.

- Alejandro: The Arch Villain. It's simple and to the point!

- Blaineley: The Gossip Queen. I feel like she should have gotten one despite not being in the season that long.

- Bridgette: The Surfing Hostess. A mix of her original ones, plus acknowledging her being co-host of Aftermath

- Cody: The Geeky Drama Bro. A reference to his band The Drama Brothers mixed with his original label.

- Courtney: The Intimidating Overachiever. I just wanted to make it longer XD

- DJ: The Teddy Bear. Why mess with perfection?

- Duncan: The JD. Chris thought it was a clever musical reference, plus it stands for Juvenile Delinquent.

- Eva: The Powerhouse Stunt Girl. Noah made him change it to something positive with the power of blackmail.✨️

- Gwen: Living Goth Girl. Look... Noah was sleeping deprived, and one of the interns was blasting, Living Dead Girl and his half asleep brain thought it was hilarious. Chris's fully awake brain agreed.

- Harold: Uber Geek Bro. Mix of other labels plus his band name.

- Heather: The Queen Bee. Why mess with perfection x 2.

- Izzy: Izz-sane Actress. Chris could not help himself and gave her a pun. Noah made him put the actress.

- Leshawna: The Reality Queen. A nod to her and Tyler's run of reality TV shows. Despite what Blaineley said, it wasn't Leshawna's desperate grab for her former fame. All the shows asked her to guest star, and she did great.

- Lindsay: Her Hotness. A callback to her Admiral Lindsay Her Hotness role. Noah knows it was a fan favorite character arch. Thus, he added it.

- Noah: The High IQ. Why mess with perfection x 3, plus, Noah thinks it will help people underestimate him again.

- Owen: Big O. Chris and Noah just went with Izzy's nickname for Owen.

- Sierra: Obsessive Uber-Fan. It fits, and it makes the cast just believe she is a super fan, and then they meet her and are like "ooooh...you were not kidding about the Obsessive part."

- Trent: Loverboy. Short. Sweet. To the point XD

-----

Bonus:

- Chef: The Chef-of-all-trades. Because he does basically everything and Noah thought it was funny.

- Chris: The Host With The Most. Chris wanted to keep his classic label. (Noah calls him The Host With The Most Issues in his head.)

• When they were making the labels, Noah had to resort to spraying Chris with a spray bottle if he accidentally said something that would be seen as offensive. This morphed into Noah spraying him if he was being a diva, difficult, or just plain dumb.

• Noah immediately clocked Alejandro as too good to be true the moment they were in the craft services tent after being "rescued" by Chris and Chef. How? Because Noah was immediately attracted to him and Noah had bad taste in guys (or so his sisters say). Also, because, hello???? He auditioned to be on a show called Total Drama Dirtbags.

• Also also, Noah seems to attract ...eccentric types of people, and Alejandro chose to sit next to him on the bus. Well, in the seats across from him, seeing as he was sitting with Eva, and she chose the window seat. And he actually talked to him. To Noah, that was a big clue.

• When Noah and Blaineley get introduced to the merge people they each have to sing their own song. Blaineley, of course, songs her song Blaine-rific. Noah sings a parody of the song Roxie from Chicago with worked around lyrics, but he's hoping to spite the producers, and hopes they have to pay royalties or something for his song.

• Blaineley is pissed when she watches Noah's song because he got a costume that resembles Roxie's in the movie version somewhat, and some of the male interns even joined in as his background dancers and singer. He hoped Noelle was freaking proud because he performed the hell out of that song!

• Alejandro is definitely not jealous of all the boys pretending (they better be pretending) to fawn over Noah

• It's another instance of Alejandro being stunned by Noah, then he sees him in the wedding dress and blushes so hard.

• Bridgette and Noah are pretty good friends. They weirdly enough bonded over recipes since Bridgette is vegan, and Noah being Tamil eats a lot of vegan dishes whenever his mother cooks.

• Owen, Leshawna, Noah, Gwen, Alejandro, Courtney, Dj, and Tyler can all cook really damn good. Owen picked it up when he was trying diets, and he has actually lost some weight cooking for himself and his family. He's really proud. (So is Team E-Scope.) Leshawna because her aunties taught her and the senior volunteers at the shelters she helps at taught her too. DJ because of his Momma, of course. Gwen because she wanted to help her mom out, and sometimes, her mom was just so tired after working. Noah because his family sees cooking as a bonding experience. Alejandro learned so he could impress more people, but also his Nana wanted him to be self-reliant. Courtney because she didn't want to have to rely on others when she could do it herself. Tyler is a surprise, but he found out he could cook well when he started cooking for Lindsay for dates.

• Harold burned water once.

• Izzy isn't allowed in the kitchen. She likes to experiment too much.

• In Rapa Nui, when Chris was wearing the super short shorts, all the contestants there screamed in horror, and some even threw themselves to the floor. Noah slammed his face into the closest surface, which happened to be a very chiseled chest. Alejandro hid his face in Noah's hair.

• Chris was not amused at everyone's dramatics.

• I need you all to know that the Rapa Nui challenge isn't even a challenge because they couldn't close the rock fast enough, and Noah got picked up by the condor and taken to the nest. Which means he got his eggs all in the nest at once. Which means he automatically won.

• Chris comes up with a last-minute second challenge that whoever saves Noah gets immunity as well. (Someone save his son!)

• Noah is just trying not to freak out as the giant condor preens his hair like he's one of her chicks.

Next Part

76 notes · View notes

seungrem · 11 months ago

Text

Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader

Burying the Hatchet

request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??

summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.

( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )

( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

-🧸 ( very light fluff )

🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )

🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.

“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”

As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.

“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.

Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.

“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.

‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.

“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.

“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.

“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”

☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.

“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.

☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.

“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.

“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”

“Is it Seonghwa?”

“Yes. But-“

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”

“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”

“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.

“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.

“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.

“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.

“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.

The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.

“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.

“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.

“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.

“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”

As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.

“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.

“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.

“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.

“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.

“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.

“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.

“Somebody has to humble him.”

“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”

“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”

“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”

“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”

“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.

—

His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.

“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.

“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.

“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.

“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.

“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.

“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”

Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.

“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”

“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”

“Mine.”

Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.

“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”

“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.

“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.

“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.

“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”

“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.

“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ‘em.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”

“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.

“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.

“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.

“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”

“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”

“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

1 week later

“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”

☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.

“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”

“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”

“Seems that I did. So?”

☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”

☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.

“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.

“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”

“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”

“☁️.”

☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.

“☁️!!”

☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.

☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.

A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.

“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”

“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”

“You look great tonight, ☁️!”

☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.

“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”

“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.

“He said he needed a password.”

“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”

“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”

☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.

“It’s midnight.”

“It’s the only time he could come this week.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.

“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”

“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“

“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.

The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.

☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.

“☁️. Do you have a moment?”

“Where’s the programmer?”

“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.

“Come.”

The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.

“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.

“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”

“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.

“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”

“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”

“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”

“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.

“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”

☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ☁️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.

“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”

“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.

“No.”

“Please don’t make me do this.”

☁️ laughed.

“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.

“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.

Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.

“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”

☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.

“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”

“Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.

“Sure thing.”

The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.

“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”

“Yes, just some work issues.”

The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”

“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”

“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”

“Do you know where that gala was held today?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”

☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.

Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.

“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.

“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”

“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”

☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.

“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”

“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.

Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes.

“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”

☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”

“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.

Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”

☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.

The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.

“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.

“This is my city. Of course I have.”

“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.

☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.

“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.

“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.

“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”

“Ok.”

Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.

The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.

“Are you tired?”

“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.

“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”

“No. You can take the bigger bed.”

☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.

“You’re on the highest floor?”

“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”

The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.

“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.

“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.

“Let me show you to the room.”

“Show me the guest room.”

“No.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.

“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.

“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”

“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”

“Is that where the letter was from?”

“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.

“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”

“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.”

After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.

“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”

“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.

“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.

“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.

“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.

“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”

The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.

“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.

“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you helping me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”

“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”

☁️ nodded.

“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.

“Wait-“

Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”

“Sleep in your bed.”

“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then move over.”

☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.

“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.

“Well, I did.”

☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”

Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”

“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.

“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.

“Goodnight.”

a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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littlxpxtal · 5 months ago

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Puppy Grin

TYRANTS || STORY MASTERLIST

PAIRING: rafe cameron x fem!reader

WARNINGS: MDNI 18+ Content, swearing, sexual content, drug and alcohol use, violence

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

I'm alone, to beginning

Just sat right here with my puppy grin

For you and your sneaking on holidays, holidays

What fun to be had

When you've got me here to hit right back

Just some Polly parroting on and on and like you want

What's up with you?

It's never been like you to be back and begging

I've been no good at acting as I should

New Years Eve

My boots clacked against the pavement as I walked to Sabrina’s house, book bag filled to the brim with everything I needed to get ready for tonight. I knock on the large front door and am greeted by Sabrina, wrapped in a robe with her makeup half done and her hair up in a towel.

We greet each other and she leads me upstairs to her room, clothes sprawled out everywhere. I trip over a pair of heels and she profusely apologizes, throwing them across the room, landing on top of a pile of purses.

“Sorry I can’t fucking figure out what I wanna wear, which is preventing me from starting my eye makeup. Can you help?” I nod my head and start picking up dresses from her bed, inspecting each one.

“Ooo what about this one?” I ask, reaching back behind her bed. It was a black sparkly mini dress that she bought online a few months ago but never wore. I remember watching her buy it off her laptop in second period.

“Oh my GOD yes!” she screams, giving me a hug. I help her shove all of her clothes into her closet and start setting up my own little station by her mirror, applying my makeup.

“So who do you think you’re gonna kiss tonight?” I finally ask as I wrap a piece of hair around the hot wand. Sabrina peaks out from the bathroom and smirks.

“Haven’t decided.” she says before spraying hairspray on her head. “I’ve been hooking up with DJ Gabe for only like a week but there’s no strings attached.”

“What about Topper?” I ask, quirking an eyebrow at her. He was the host of tonights New Years Eve outing.

“What about him?” she responds sweetly, admiring herself in the mirror.

“What do you mean what about him” I say with a laugh, finishing up with the last strand of hair that needed to be curled. I spritz some hair spray on it then run a comb through the curls to loosen them up.

“No idea what you’re talking about” she says with a grin on her face. She walks out of the room and I roll my eyes, grabbing my dress and begin to slip it on.

The description on the website I found it from was “Femme Clubwear Gold Sequin Sleeveless Halter Backless Mini Dress” I hadn’t tried it on since purchasing so I was praying it would fit fine. If it didn’t at least I knew Sabrina had plenty of extras to let me wear.

Sabrina’s hopes for the night was to go home with the DJ from my birthday party. I had no motives for the night except to get drunk.

As if she read my mind, she reentered the room with a champagne bottle and two flutes in her hand.

“God you look so good!” she exclaims. “I have to put mine on now.” she shoves the bottle and glasses into my hand and runs to her bathroom to change. I pour the glasses full and hand one out to her when she exits.

“You look perfect.” I compliment her.

“Dude I know.” she says, walking over to her mirror and taking a selfie. I giggle at her and pull out my phone. It was 9:33 and I had a text from Rafe.

What’re you wearing tonight?

Something sexy

Send me a picture

You’ll have to wait till you see it on my instagram

You’re such a tease … Give me the color at least

Gold

Wow that is sexy

What’s your plans for tonight

Slummin it with Sarah while she whines about not getting a New Years kiss with johnbee

:( Be nice to her

Only because you told me to.

Top’s throwin tonight we’re about to leave

Im jealous

You should be :p

Shut up

Make me

Dont ask for things you dont actually want

What if i do

“Who’re you texting?” she says, taking a sip of champagne trying to peak down at my phone.

“No one important.” I say, clicking my phone off.

“When are you gonna tell me whats going on between you and Rafe?”

“Dont know what you’re talking about.” I say, mimicking her response from my probing questions earlier.

“I see the way he looks at you. And the way he touches you. He doesn’t do that with anyone else. And I mean anyone.” She pours herself another full glass and tops mine off.

“We’ve known each other for a while. I grew up around them so he probably just thinks of me like a sister or something.” I say shrugging.

“You and I both know he does not treat Sarah the same way he treats you so don’t even try that.” she says, with a serious face this time.

“Why does it matter Sab?” I ask, my face getting flustered. I let the topic go earlier about her and Top, but she wasn’t letting this one go.

“You guys would be cute.” she finally says after a few seconds of silence. I roll my eyes and walk over to my bag, pulling out my heels.

“That’s not what it is.” I huff.

“HA so something IS going on!”

I decide to give in. I knew Sabrina wouldn’t tell anyone and it was getting hard to keep it a secret from her anymore.

“Fine. We slept together. A few times. But that’s it.”

“And you’re texting.”

“He’s in Bora Bora.”

“He’s on vacation .. and hes on his phone texting you.”

“Its barely a conversation, let alone an intelligent one. No substance. He’s just bored.” I say defensively, buckling the clip of my heels on and standing up.

“This is so hot.” she says with a huge smile across her face. “I can’t believe your fucking Rafe. Is he good?” she asks.

I down the flute of champagne, pouring myself another glass before answering.

“Yea it’s pretty good.” I state. I check my phone to see that Rafe hadn’t answered. I frown slightly and look back over to Sabrina.

“Ready to go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was 11:45 and I was alone. A bottle of champagne in one hand and a joint in the other. I had stolen a few cigarettes from some random pack that was left unattended on the bar. Everyone was hammered, the music was too loud and I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I stumbled down the hill of Topper’s backyard and made my way to the pier, walking closer to the edge by the water. I sit down on the edge and light both the joint and the cig.

The bass of the music rumbled down to the deck, vibrating the water below. I checked my phone again and saw that Rafe still hadn’t texted me back. I chugged a mouthful of champagne back and opened the spotify app. I was in the mood to listen to anything else other than house music.

The first song that plays on shuffle was Ribs. I laughed and turned the volume up, taking a drag from each of the lit sticks in my hands.

“What’re you doing out here?” The voice makes me practically jump out of my skin. I hadn’t heard the footsteps due to my intoxication and music rumbling around me. I turn my head to see the dark figure walking closer. The light at the edge of the deck where I sat illuminated their face.

It was Rafe.

“What are you doing here?” I squeak out.

“Dad had some business he needed to get back to so I hitched a ride with him.”

I rose to my feet and he walked closer to me.

“How long have you been home? How long have you been here?” My heart was racing and I felt insecure, realizing at the sight he was looking at. Me, crossed and alone on new years, listening to Lorde.

“We landed around 10, I got here around 11. ’ve been lookin for you. “

“You could’ve texted me.”

“That would’ve ruined the surprise” he says with a smirk, stepping closer. He takes the bottle out of my hand and takes a swig. He then takes the joint out of my hand, taking a long drag. “Looks like I have some catching up to do.” he chuckles, and sits down next to my phone on the pier.

After a few seconds, I sit next to him, about a foot of space between us. I stare out into the water, finishing up the cig, passing it to him for the last hit it had. He takes a drag and bums it out on the deck. He passes me back the bottle and joint and cracks his knuckles. I take a few sips before breaking the silence.

“How could you leave Bora Bora a week early?”

“Didn’t want to be alone on New Years.”

“Like I am” I snort. He looks over to me. For the first time, his eyes are soft. His pupils aren’t dilated like they usually are when we’re at events like this, an effect from the white powder he snorts. I never see him sober anymore.

Hurricane by Halsey starts to play from my phone, filling the silence that had fallen between us again.

That’s exactly what he made me feel inside. Like there was a fucking storm brewing. I wanted to run and hide from the way he made me feel so I didn’t have to accept it. Like I had whiplash from his emotions. I never knew if he was going to say something nice or something mean. I never knew what mood he would be in. He was always lingering, I never knew when to expect to see him. Like tonight. He just appeared. He tore me open, left me devastated. And I liked it.

“Well now we’re here. Not alone anymore.” he finally says. A shiver runs up my spine and I hand him back the bottle. I had reached my limit for the night. The world felt like it was spinning, his surprise appearance leaving me in a haze. A dreamlike state. I wanted to pinch myself to check if this was even real or if I blacked out and this was a dream.

A countdown from the house rumbled through the air. Rafe put the bottle down and inched towards me. My breath hitched and I felt my hands start to shake. His hand reaches up to cup the side of my face and I look at him. His eyes still soft.

When the crowd chants Happy New Year, he leans in and presses his lips against mine. Its the sweetest he’s ever kissed me. My shaky hands trail up and hold his neck, pressing myself up, deeper into the kiss. When we finally break free, he keeps his face close to mine.

“Happy New Year.” he whispers. Fireworks erupt from someones house across the water, lighting his face up with color.

“Take me home.”

Rafe led the way up the hill back to the Cameron estate, holding my hand and the other holding onto my heels that I had taken off.

When we walk inside the house is quiet and dark. He grabs two glasses of water from the kitchen and we go upstairs. We turn left at the top of the stairs, instead of my usual right to Sarah’s room. I held my breath when walking in, it felt odd going into his room. I haven’t been inside of it since I was like 11.

It looked vaguely familiar from all those years ago, posters of his favorite artists and cars he liked, his desk with random papers piled on it. His closet door was closed, a few jackets hung from the back of the door. His floor was clean, which was a nice surprise from a teenage boy. His sheets were black and had a white knitted throw blanket on top.

He sat on the edge of the bed and reached his arms out, pulling me onto his lap, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

“This dress is breathtaking.” he whispers. His hand trails from my cheek, fingers hovering over my bottom lip. I stay as still as possible, keeping eye contact with him. His thumb holds my chin, pulling my face closer to his.

“What do you want pretty girl?” he says, his breath lingers over my mouth and I hesitate for a second to answer.

“I want you.” I finally say, releasing the breath I had been holding. He presses his mouth against mine, I part mine open, letting his tongue circle around inside. I begin to unbutton his top, and unbuckle his pants. When they fall to the floor, I go down with them, on my knees in front of Rafe. He visibly gulps and I begin to palm his length on the outside of his boxers. They were Calvin Klein this time. I start to pepper kisses along his happy trail, teasing the band of his boxers, I can feel his abs flex, and he runs his fingers through my hair.

I finally pull his boxers off, his cock slapping up against his abdomen.

“Hold my hair for me?” I ask, battling my lashes up at him. He nods his head feverishly, swiping it all up into his grip in one go. I spit on the top of his tip and hear his breathing get ragged.

Taking him in slowly, I wrap my lips around his tip, letting my spit drop down his shaft, using my hand to spread the saliva around. I swirl my tongue around his tip and look up at him, his eyes are squeezed shut.

I push myself down his length, trying to my hardest to make it down to his base without gagging. He bucks up into my mouth, making his tip hit the back of my throat. Tears brim my eyes and I feel drool dripping from the corners of my mouth. His eyes are still squeezed tight, his chest glistening against the warm light shining from the corner of the room.

Rafe’s hand pulls my hair up and he pushes back down, bobbing my head on his cock. I let him take over completely, and his hips start to thrust up into my mouth, his bottom lip tight between his teeth, he grunts loudly with each thrust.

“Fuck ‘M gonna cum.” he whsipers, a soft whine coming from his mouth as hes unable to keep his composure before filling my mouth with his cum, shooting straight down the back of my throat.

I swallow everything he released into my mouth, wiping the outside corners with the back of my hand. Rafe releases his grip on my hair and I sit up on my knees, batting my eyelashes up at him for my next direction.

“I’m sorry I might be out of commission for tonight.” he says sheepishly, pulling his boxers back on and scratching the back of his head.

“It’s alright. I owed you anyways.” I respond before standing up and walking around to pick up my shoes. From the corner of my eye I see Rafe frown, and rub his hands on his face.

“You headin out already?” he finally says after a few seconds of silence. I nod and walk back over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to him, attempting to put my shoes on.

“You know, you can stay here if you’d like. Its dangerous out there.” I chuckle at this and look up to meet his eyes. They’re soft, and he has a vulnerable look on his face, something I haven’t seen in a very long time.

“I dont know Rafe, we usually don’t do that.” I say, trying to respect the non existent boundaries of our relationship. We’ve never even talked about what this is, let alone what was allowed. He chews on his lip nervously, another few seconds of silence linger around the room.

“But I want you to stay.” I stop fumbling with my shoes when the words come out of his mouth. I internally debate on what this could mean. It was a line that seemed like it shouldn't be crossed, but looked so inviting to try.

“Can I borrow some clothes then?” I ask. He smiles and jumps off the bed, walking over to his dresser and tossing a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He walks to the ensuite bathroom, rummaging around in the cabinet and pulls out a toothbrush in its packaging.

“You can use my toothpaste. I dont got any makeup remover, but I have some face wash and lotion” he says into the room before starting to brush his own teeth. I slip off the dress I was wearing and place it onto his desk chair, placing the heels under his desk. I plug my phone into the closest outlet, and change into the clothes he provided. When Rafe steps out of the bathroom, I go in after him, using the toiletries he provided me to freshen up.

When I enter back into his bedroom, the last light that remains on is his bedside lamp. Rafe laid flat on his back, with his eyes closed. I crawl onto the bed, coming up beside him. He peaks one eye open and smiles, reaching his arms out to grab and pull me closer, pressing a kiss on my forehead.

I cuddle up against his chest, and he runs his fingers through my hair, falling deeper into sleep with each breath. I wasn’t sure what possessed Rafe to fly home early, and invite me to stay the night at his house, but it worried me that this might mean we had to have some sort of discussion about what was happening. I had no experience with a situation like this before, and Sarah’s words about Rafe and his ill intentions haunted my thoughts.

I thought about what I wanted. I wasn’t actually sure to be honest. I’ve known Rafe forever, I felt comfortable around him and he knows me well. But I also consider that he’s still just a guy with needs and maybe just wants a friends with benefits situation. Which I would be alright with, as long as if he gets to mess around with other people, so do I.

Before I could work myself up anymore about the thought of me and Rafe, soft snores escaped his mouth as he fell asleep. I clutched the side of his body tighter and kisses his cheek, whispering goodnight before resting my head on his chest and falling asleep.

Previous Chapter | Instagram AU | Next Chapter

#rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe outer banks #obx x y/n #rafe fanfic #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx fic #obx #obx x reader #rafe x reader

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ntls-24722 · 1 year ago

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FNAF FANARTISTS!!!!!!!!!!! DJ MUSIC MAN AND MUSIC MAN ARE NOT THE SAME CHARACTER

many times, when fnaf artists are requested to draw music man/dj music man, they get them mixed up!!! which is reasonable!!!!!!! we know almost nothing about them, google mixes them up constantly, and a certain matpat meme has only made it more confusing!

They all have very similar faces, but they've got some staggering differences!!!!! so im detailing them and also giving some trivia/our known knowledge of them!!!

MUSIC MAN (FFPS)

The OG music man! He made his debut in FFPS/Pizzeria Simulator and makes another appearance in UCN. He is!!! weird!!

He's not built like a spider-centaur, he's literally like a minecraft creeper with a torso and a bunch of legs at the bottom.

He's got a design unlike any other fnaf animatronic, even deviating from the style of the human ones, though this is speculated to be because he seems to have design elements from enemies and bosses from Scott Cawthon's other game, The Desolate Hope.

He's described to have "something undesirable" inside him (it's never explained what) and in the Posh Pizzeria group he is the only one to have a liability risk at times - in UCN he's the only one of the posh pizzeria that can and will kill you. Also, weirdly enough, in UCN he's the only animatronic other than the original Freddy, Bonnie, Chica and Foxy to use the FNAF 1 scream. Despite being called Music Man, his gimmick in UCN is that he hates noise and you need to keep it down for him to not kill you - music also counts as noise for him.

He's voiced by Matthew Curtis, who also voices nightmare Balloon Boy, here are his lines for UCN!

DJ MUSIC MAN (Security Breach)

DJ Music Man! (Always abbreviated to DJMM in-game)

If MM is built like a creeper then DJ is built like a pig - he's Horizontal and looks more spider-y

There's even less info on him, but here goes:

He's a party host who makes up all of his music on the spot, but in between sessions he cleans around the Plex! The reason why he goes nuts and tries to kill Gregory is that he has an experimental but prohibited bouncer mode that was turned on, which is why he's chill afterwards. He also doesn't speak, unlike Music Man.

BONUS: WINDUP MUSIC MAN (Security Breach)

Windup Music Man!

Designwise they're almost identical to MM, but they look like they got microwaved and scraped across asphalt at mach 10. And also got a windup key stuck in their back. And TINY

Ingame they're described to be a prototype of Music Man that escaped the little museum part of the Plex, and that's all we really know. Other than that, their dynamic together is kind of comparable to a bunch of ants working together. They also JUMP and can be seen conversing/playing together.

ALSO: Those cymbals are not legs, they just have a really weird stance similar to actual tarantulas.

There's technically 394 Windup Music Men because the game randomly generates them from a collection of fucked up parts.

There's no height indication for Music Man but here's one for the security breach cast by @/musings-of-astromonster

happy music man-ing

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writingpastmybedtime · 1 year ago

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Time to Confess

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky and reader have been harbouring feelings for each other for quite a while. Will a party finally bring them together?

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: none, I think

A/N: This was written to conquer my writers block once and for all. Sorry if it's a bit all over the place. I'll publish some better stuff in the upcoming days & my requests are open as well!

It was just a little bit after 9pm, when Natasha knocked on your door in the compound. “Sweetie, are you ready?” You finished putting on your golden earrings and walked towards the door to open it up for her. “Hi, Nat,” you smiled at her and went to grab your purse.

“Damn, honey, don’t you look hot,” she grinned as she took in your outfit. You were wearing a sparkling black dress that fit you perfectly. “Are you trying to impress someone special tonight?” She smirked knowingly and you hit her in the shoulder for implying such a thing. “No, of course not. Who could I possibly be impressing?” Natasha just shook her head and laced her hand with yours, pulling you towards the gala downstairs.

Truth be told, you were hoping to catch the eye of a certain Super Soldier, who just happened to be your best friend in the team. Well, obviously besides Natasha. You and Bucky had been friends for a few years and it hadn’t taken long before the platonic relationship had taken on a new, more serious meaning for you. At first you were certain that it was just a mere little crush that would pass on its own after a while, but as the months went by and instead of your crush going away, it had begun to grow into something deeper.

When you arrived at the gala, you had to take a breath to just look around and take this all in. As per usual, Stark’s annual galas were something out of the ordinary. Flashing lights, disco balls, the best DJs in town, elegant long dresses and pricey suits, and of course a bar to make it perfect. “Wow, Tony, you’ve outdone yourself this time,” Nat grinned as she hugged Tony. Tony looked at you next and winked as he took you in. “Seems like Little Birdy over here has finally got the courage to impress someone special tonight.” “Why does everyone keep saying that to me?” You blushed as you looked down. Maybe this dress wasn’t the best option and maybe you should’ve skipped this party after all. It’s not like Tony doesn’t host one every three months or whenever a big mission gets accomplished. Or whenever he wins an award.

“Darling, you’ve been so obvious for the past few months. We know you like Bucky and it’s quite adorable that you don’t think he doesn’t feel the same way. I mean we’ve all noticed how he looks at you whenever you walk into the room, or how he gets worried when you’re on a mission,” Natasha looked at Tony, who just nodded in confirmation. “I mean if you look behind you now, at the bar, you’ll just see what she’s talking about.” Tony said as he smirked and pulled Natasha away with him. Natasha gave you a small smile and mouthed “Go to him”, before letting herself be pulled towards the dance floor as another 90s hit started playing.

As you turned around, you were met with a piercing gaze from the end of the room. It was like a string was pulling you two closer, as you took a breath and started walking towards him.

Bucky had his eyes on you the moment you had walked in with Natasha. You had never looked so radiant as you did tonight. He had seen the way other men looked at you when you walked down the stairs to the party. And you didn’t even notice. Not even having a clue about how marvelous you looked.

“Well don’t you clean up nice,” you grinned at Bucky as you took a seat next to him at the bar. Bucky just stared at you, a glinting look in his eyes as he took you in. “Doll,” he started to say before he shook his head and smirked at you cheekily. “Do you have any idea how good you look?” A blush made its way on your cheeks as you looked down at your lap, playing with your fingers. You felt Bucky’s fingers underneath your chin to pull your face back up. “Don’t get shy on me now, doll. You’re the prettiest thing in the whole room.” You rolled your eyes and stole his drink, before taking a sip from it. “Sweet talker,” you said and grinned, not really taking him seriously. Bucky was just about to say something else, when the DJ announced that he’d be playing a few slower songs for a change. “Doll,” he began as he took your hand in his. Predicting where this would go, you shook your head ‘no’ as he laughed at your reaction. “Bucky, you know I can’t dance.” He grinned devilishly and started leading you towards the dance floor. “Don’t worry, doll. I’ve got you.” You, still shaking your head, giggled, but still let him lead you further. “Bucky, I’m serious.” You tried to say it seriously, but deep down you were excited.

A slow romantic song had begun to play and when you looked around you saw all the couples dancing. Coming to a stop, Bucky bowed, as ever the gentleman, and kissed the back of your hand before pulling you into him. You let out a small giggle before placing your other hand on his shoulder. The moment you started dancing was the moment when everything around you just disappeared. It was just you and him. Y/N and Bucky, and the music that guided you. Bucky was a good leader, as you didn’t really know what to do with your feet. Fortunately, you still hadn’t stepped on his toes, and truth be told, you didn’t really even think about it anymore. All you could focus on was Bucky’s eyes and the way he held you against him. Oh, and his smell. He smelled like leathery sandalwood and something a bit spicy, something so uniquely him.

“You’re quite good at this, aren’t you?” You smiled at him cheekily and he grinned before twirling you out and then back into his arms. He laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Show-off.” He pulled you even closer, with your head near his shoulder and his lips near your ear. You shivered, as you felt his hot breath near you as he began to whisper.

“I have been putting this off for a while now, mostly because I’ve been scared about losing you as a friend” You furrowed your brows as you listened intently. You tried to move your head to look at him, but he held you strongly against him. “Steve and Sam have been nagging me for months to put an end to this, to my misery, and just confess, but every time I come close to doing it, to saying what I really want to say to you, something tends to come in between and ruin the moment. Then Natasha started giving me knowing looks, which I wanted to take as a hint that maybe, just maybe, you felt the same. But then you went out with that guy that Wanda set you up with and I lost all hope that evening. Wasn’t a nice night for Steve as he found me cuddling a bottle of whisky in front of his door.” Bucky cringed at the memory. His hold had finally loosened enough, that you could pull away and look him in the eyes.

“Bucky, what are you saying?” You were so confused, because his blabbering did not make any sense to you. Was he trying to say what you hoped he was? It didn’t seem real. Confess what to you? “You know I went on that date just because I lost a bet and truthfully I hadn’t been on a date in years. It wasn’t a complete disaster, but I didn’t like him like that.” You took a breath before confessing, “I liked someone else..” You gave him a shy smile and hoped he’d take the hint. Bucky smirked before lowering his head again and whispering to you. “Do I know the guy? Need to give him advice on how to treat such a beautiful little lady?” You grinned and moved your hands from his to his neck just as his hands fell to your waist. He took a deep breath and you shuddered at the feel of it. “Doll, do you have any idea what you do to me?” You shook your head as he pulled back and placed his forehead on yours. “I’d bring you the stars and the moon, if it meant that you’d be happy. I promise, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’ll always be safe and protected. To treat you as you deserve to be treated. To love you truly, madly and deeply, and to never, ever stop loving you.” Tears had begun to form in your eyes, because you could not believe what you were hearing. Love?

“You love me?” You pulled back to look into his mesmerizing eyes. You only saw hope and truthfulness behind his gaze. And love. Love for you. Before he could even reply you had started your own little rant. “Because I love you too. Hell, I’ve been in love with you for months. Natasha has been on my heels for the longest while, because I was afraid to tell you. Honestly, I was so scared, because I did not want to lose you as a friend, and you’re as good as they come, you know? But I do love you. So much. And you have the prettiest eyes. I didn’t even know eyes could be so pretty, before I met you.” You went on, as Bucky just grinned and took you in. Breathtaking, he thought to himself as you rambled on about all the little things that you loved about him.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful and I really want to kiss you.”

That sentence shut you up mid-sentence as you realized you’d been talking for the whole time. Bucky leaned in, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. He pulled your face closer to his, and you closed your eyes anticipating what was to come. You felt his breath on your lips, realizing that he was waiting for you to make the final move. To give you the choice.

So you took it. You placed your lips on his and finally kissed him.

You had read many different romance books in your lifetime to know that excellent kisses went hand in hand with exploding fireworks and all that other cheesy stuff. You hadn’t really believed in any of that, because never in your life had a kiss been that good. Until now.

Now you understood.

This was nothing like fireworks. This was so much more. The way he caressed you, the way he held you, the way you both moved. Like magnets. Like you were made just for each other. Placed on this Earth to find one another and never part. How could you even stop kissing him, now that you had? You both grinned as you took a breath of air, before leaning back in and kissing again.

“Pay up,” Natasha smiled at Steve as he rolled his eyes and gave her a twenty. “Told you the dress would win him over.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #bucky imagine

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user211201 · 1 year ago

Text

Totally Normal

--- Originally posted on 2023-12-08 by dumb-and-jocked. ---

“Welcome back to Totally Normal, the online show where we narrow down the one thing that makes us all meet that standard!”

The host then hit a button on his laptop, releasing an audio for an uproarious round of applause. With his entire audience streaming in live, he had to make due with tracks. He didn’t mind it though; he could always predict what his viewers were thinking. It was like they shared the same mind.

“My name’s DJ, and before you ask, yes I have a side gig in music.” A laugh track obnoxiously inserted itself. “I don’t dabble in the typical jazz; I remix these men back to the tunes they oughta be singing.”

Another fake round of applause. The host smirked before continuing forward with the rules.

“The point of the game is simple: Figure out that one thing that makes someone totally normal. Through a series of questions, I’m going to chisel away at our contestants until we get to the base. For every wrong answer, a vibration will be sent out to their device until they head back on the right track. We want to find out that one thing that solidifies them as an average joe, but we don't exactly know what that thing is."

The host then took a scripted pause. "Well, *I *know what that thing is.”

Another laugh track entered before the host silenced his imaginary audience. “So, let’s get down to it. We have our men here, but ARE THEY NORMAL?”

The last three words were all enunciated with the typical gameshow pazazz. The host even had an accompanying audio that made it seem like there was an audience chanting it with him.

On cue, the livestream booted up a panel of the three contestants. The first was a shy young man, who by his age looked to be in college but by his height possibly younger. The second was the typical corporate homosexual, the breed who was already happily married and wore tight, designer clothing. And last but not least, the third looked just a little older than the first with an office that displayed the inner workings of a minor start-up.

“Help me welcome our first contestant, coming from the cool waves of Cali, here comes Cody!”

Corey opened his mouth to kindly correct the host, but was immediately silenced by the massive track of applause. A small and nervous 20-year-old, Corey was an academically-fine student at a state school. He worked as an IT intern, helping others work through their issues in a manner where he didn’t have to fully engage. Yet he knew he would probably have to work through this introvert problem if he ever truly wanted to make a loyal boyfriend from the crop of surfers across the street.

“Up next is our cowboy-tootin’, bullet-firin’ family man, Norman!”

Nolan made a face of disgust, but he too didn’t stand a chance against the fake cheers. He’d settled down with his husband just about 10 years ago in the suburbs. Working for a Fortune 500 company, he had everything a man of his caliber could want. Great company, great style, great pets instead of real children. Nolan loved his little metropolitan life.

“And finally, the privileged heir to the corporate throne, it’s Asher!”

Aaron rolled his eyes as the artificial eruption burst through his speakers. He assumed that this narcissistic jock host had gotten all of the contestants names wrong. Aaron had built his own business up from the ground, an independent hard-worker with no one tying him down. It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t want a boyfriend, he just needed to focus on himself. That’s why he was keeping it casual, hooking up with boys a little younger and less responsible. He absentmindedly pawed at his crotch a little as the douchebag DJ started the game.

“Now,” the host cracked his knuckles dramatically. “Let’s start off with some easy questions, just to make sure those devices are working after all. Cody, you’re looking comfortable out on that beach!”

Corey looked around the library he was sitting in confusedly, neither comfortable nor on a beach.

“I think you’re mistaking me for the surfers across the street,” Corey tried to joke, but his feeble demeanor spoiled the comeback.

“Men…you all ought to be where all the other guys of your kind are at.”

All three of them put on bewildered faces.

“Cody, what’s holding you back from embracing that Cali life?” the host asked.

“I…I mean there’s the obvious fact that they aren’t keen on ga-”

BZZT

“Ah!” Corey ripped his hand away, the "vibration" more of a literal sting.

“Cody, what’s holding you back?” the host asked again.

“Dude,” Corey uncharacteristically responded. “I don’t know if they will accept me, man.”

“Bro, what’s there NOT to accept?” the host chuckled. “You fit right in!”

Corey looked over his short frame, his pale skin, his shrimpy figure. He appeared better fit for the library than the bea-

BZZT

“You’re right DJ! I'm a gnarly guy like them brahs! They’ll totally accept me!”

Corey looked over his tall frame, his tanned skin, his toned figure. He appeared better fit for the beach than the library–that’s why he was on the beach after all!

“Alright alright,” the host nodded with approval. “Now Norman, let’s talk about your life in the countryside.”

‪‘Country side’?” Nolan interjected. “Do you consider Houston-”

BZZT

Nolan flung his hand back, “HOWARDWICK the countryside? You bet! Population 402, the two being me and my husband.”

“And what massive land you got behind you, I’m assuming you and your male fling built that together.”

“My what?” Nolan peered behind him, noticing his garden he’d built with his hus-

BZZT

-the ranch he’d built with his hustle. Well, not technically–this land had been managed through the traditional good ole ways of his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. He’d just been fixing it up here and there.

Nolan stretched his thickening fingers, hoping to desensitize them from the pain. “W…What in tarnation is goin' on ‘ere?”

The host continued on, mocking the Southern accent he’d implanted onto the second contestant. “A place fittin' for a cowpoke like y’all’s self! Ain’t no city folk allowed; you don’t want nothin’ queer intrudin' your property, right?”

Queer?!” Nolan spat back. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with bein’-“

BZZT

“Darn tootin’ straight! Ain’t nothin’ strange gonna be happenin’ on this ‘ere land.”

With the second contestant’s location rightfully reoriented, the host moved onto the third.

“And onto our Ivy League, let’s discuss ascension…I mean, ‘climbing the corporate ladder’.”

Aaron shot the host a dirty look through the screen. “You don’t think I worked hard to earn this position?”

“Well, you certainly didn’t do it all yourself.”

Aaron held his breath. He was a decently attractive man with his slim figure and responsible will, and even his anger made him appear wiser than his years. But Aaron's best feature was his independence, and he wasn’t going to let anyone taint his name over that.

“What, do you think my current boyfri-”

BZZT

“-my dating his-”

BZZT

“-my friends with benefits were involved?”

Aaron’s fingers tingled with energy. His body tingled with fury.

“Well,” the host snickered. “If by benefits, you mean…”

“What’s all this!” Aaron flipped. “This is simply…p…preposterous!”

“What are you talking about?” the host egged on. “It's simply normal for a man with your caliber to have such an ‘inheritance’.”

The other two contestants watched on with intrigue.

“I…I may have a b…benefactor,” Aaron suddenly revealed, as if something had just been placed upon his chest. But he was still independent, right? “But that has nothing to do with it!”

“Benefactor? Do you mean your DADDY?”

The fake audience suddenly burst into a chorus of shocked “Ooooohhhh”s. Aaron’s usual calm nature was flatlining, being replaced by a more quickly-agitated behavior.

“We may be really closely acquainted!” Aaron backpedaled. “But it’s nothing of that kind of sort!”

The other two contestants smirked as the growingly-pompous bastard was taken down a peg.

“Sounds pretty queer to me, man,” Corey interjected confidently, scratching at his defining abs.

“Yeah, Ah reckon that fellas a little less normal than us folks,” Nolan added, adjusting the large hat that had secured itself upon his head.

“SHUT UP SWINE!” Aaron spat, his face gaining back a little of his baby fat as he absorbed more child-like aggression. “I'm perfectly normal!”

The two men laughed alongside an obnoxious laughter track.

“He’s right folks, we men are on the right side of history.” The host knew he needed to move on, the show only had so much time of course, but he was having fun. “Surely that father-figure is just some kind of…relative?”

“Just a relative, brah?” Corey asked as his trim cut bloomed out into luscious blond waves.

“Seems closer than that, partner.” Nolan quipped as a graying stubble crawled upon his widening jaw.

“A….A relative?” Aaron stammered, a higher youthful pitch lightening his tenor as this benefactor became clearer in his head. “He’s…he’s someone who I f-“

BZZT

“Father! He’s my father: Asher Osvald the Third!” Aaron screamed, his blond locks gelling up into a refined style that didn’t match his own personality. “And you all better remember it when you see our company in the headlines!”

Both Corey and Nolan took their respectful back-offs, but the host could only smirk with pride. After a moment of self-congratulation, he noticed some slight hesitation from the first candidate.

“Dude…” Corey started. “Can’t you just see he’s messin’ with us, man? Don’t you guys feel kinda strange-“

“Aren’t you supposed to chill, dude?” The host immediately cut him off.

Corey’s mouth went flat, his chin taking the opportunity to curve out a little further. “How can I chill with-“

BZZT

“Without the support from my brosettes across the screen, duuuuude!”

The host watched on with glee as the female portion of the livestream burst into a flurry. Lots of hearts and kisses and even some eggplant emojis were flooding the chat. And the comments were getting suggestive too. One chick wanted to know why he was wearing a dorky button-up, and she was soon exposed to his lean bod and treasure trail. Another suggested he should flex for the camera, and Corey was happy to oblige, each of his muscles pumping larger as he did so.

“Now, Cody,” the host coyly asked. “I’m sure the fans would like to know what you do for work.”

“I uh…I work with coding.”

“You are studying IT?” the host replied, incredulous. “Sounds complicated man.”

Corey beamed at the compliment, an excited fever entering his voice. “Yeah, but I sort of have a gift for-“

BZZT

“IT...like as in ‘it’ man...not ‘eye-tee’ or whatever.”

“But it has something to do with a code, right?”

“Well…yeah man…” Corey’s lifeless vocal fry responded. “But it's not that nerdy crap…something more…uhhh…”

The host graciously provided the answer, “Manly?”

“Yeah man….’it’ is the uh…bro-code brah.” Corey fiddled with the cross necklace that had materialized around his neck, trying to structure his thoughts. Corey felt like his head was spinning in a light vertigo, but not out of stress. Rather, a pleasurable confusion. Cali dudes don’t think that much right? They just go with the flow, so why shouldn’t he man? Wasn’t that what was normal?

While Corey processed his internal dilemma, the host reconnected with the second contestant, noticing he too was becoming a little self-aware.

“Hey Norman, you’re really rocking that fit.”

Nolan was honestly surprised at the comment. He knew he looked good in his tight, patterned three-piece, but he didn’t think the ultra-straight host would notice that too.

“Those shoes must be great for the ranch.”

Nolan laughed. “These ole’ things? They’re Prada from last season-“

BZZT

“Uhh…Ah mean these boots are from that one brand-”

BZZT

“Ah’ve had these kickers for years, fella!”

The host observed quietly as the rest of the second contestant’s clothes altered. The suit jacket and vest disappeared completely. The pants grew out into a straight pair of jeans that had been worn continuously for many seasons. The shirt rolled it sleeves and loosened some buttons, darkening to a dusty black that was meant for hauling hay rather than implying gay. But as the outfit masculinized, there was one item that stubbornly fought back, unlike the man who wore it.

“And that belt, how long have you had that?”

Nolan evaluated the expensive snake leather. “Oh yeah, this ‘ere was a gift-“

BZZT

“What in TARNATION was that for?!” Nolan yelled, the vibration noticeably more painful than the previous blasts. The material of his belt quickly grew cheaper, a massive longhorn buckle blooming forth above his blooming pouch.

“S…Sorry y’all,” Nolan collected himself. “Ah don’t know what’s gotten ovah me, or why Ah’m speakin’ so-“

“Enough apologies,” the host gagged. “You are a man, are you not?”

“Yessiree, but that doesn’t mean we men ain’t got to be sens-”

BZZT

“Ah reckon yer right there, partner!” Nolan puffed out his chest, carrying his emerging muscle gut with him. “We men oughta be tough! The MAN of the household.”

The host snickered, his eyes meandering around the second contestant’s body as additional muscle and bulk was piled onto his frame. “And men like you ought to have a body like that, don’t they?”

The cowboy huffed, his torso heavy with Southern pride. Nolan had worked his muscular frame up over all these long years, from sunrise to sundown. At 6’4, his big hearty body was always devouring meat to stretch out everything from his big strong biceps to his huge Size 15 clompers!

With the first and second contestants almost there, it was time for the host to catch his third man up to speed. He had already advanced mighty far, his skin having cleared up a bit and a few arrogant gold trophies having appeared in the office background, but the host had some additional notches yet to secure before the final round.

“Now Asher, let’s get real here.” The host put on his classic douchebag smile for the audience. “Any ladies tickling that fancy lately?”

“What?” Aaron scoffed. “Are you dense? I'm into g-”

BZZT

“Girls…no…wait what?” Aaron felt strange. Why did the host ask if he liked…girls? And why was the thought of girls suddenly something he…liked?

“Listen ere’, partner,” Nolan suddenly interjected. “Yer talkin’ 'bout women like they’re nothin’!”

The host, displeased, fought back. “Aren’t you married to one, partner?”

Nolan couldn’t believe the disrespect. “Me? Married to a woman? Yeah right-”

BZZT

“-Ah am! Ah’ve been married to my lovely wife for darn straight twenty years! Ain’t nothing QUEER happenin' on this ‘ere normal ranch. I got youngins to raise after all!”

As Nolan became bombarded by memories of his new flock of children, the satisfied host switched back to his third contestant.

“Look, I think we should respect women.” Aaron tried his best to sound mature, now finding it extremely difficult to maintain. “In fact, I think we should respect all others appropriately-“

BZZT

“And by appropriately, I am referring to overlooking these swines of colleagues who cannot afford a top notch education adjacent to my own.”

The host queued up a laugh track for his next one-liner. “They weren’t kidding when they said someone with your prestige had everything handed down to you, including bad manners.”

Aaron felt his anger rising once again, it easily filling his shortening body as he squared out to an average 5’9.

“Well excuseeee me! I am my own person with-“

BZZT

“My father is a reputable man who would wish to-”

BZZT

“DADDY!”

Aaron stomped his foot, bewildered at this idiocracy. Why was he continuously interrupted? Why was he not given the required recognition? He was captain of the country club’s golf team, rowing team, youth league, and the youngest member on the executive board for Christ’s sake! He studied at an Ivy League! He was everything!

As Aaron tried to understand why none of these other men appreciated the absolute honors of his merit–which he refused to ever admit weren’t even his own–a small alarm went off from the host’s computer.

“Like what was that, mannnn?” Corey’s face furrowed into an all-too-natural look of dumbfoundment.

“Yeah,” Nolan reared. “What's y'all gonna do next?”

“I demand to know it this instant!” The host was surprised at the third contestant jumping in, but he assumed it was just his way of trying to maintain his (nonexisting) position on top. “Or else I’ll tell my father about this-!”

An insane uproar of artificial laughter echoed throughout their ears, startling and silencing them.

“Alright folks, you know what that sound means!” the host grinned. “It’s almost time to wrap up our show, and because our contestants still haven’t figured out what makes them 'Totally Normal', we’re going to have to speed things up!”

“But can’t there only be one winner?” Aaron whined.

“Technically, no,” the host responded honestly. “All of you can be winners if you find out what makes you totally normal.”

For the first time since the game had started, all three of the contestants fell silent.

“I mean, let’s look at our surfer stud Cody,” the host started. “You are almost there, but you gotta loosen that one thing that’s still pent-up, man.”

“Brah…” Corey complained. “What else is there?”

As if by some subconscious command from the host, Corey began dumbly palming himself, a light drool dripping from the edge of his lips. The constant cycle of tits and feminine bits in his mind bombarding all over thoughts.

“A totally gnarly surfer focuses on working out, banging chicks, and chillin’ dude.”

Corey guffawed with a stupid relaxed expression, casually groping as the host moved on.

“And Norman, you’ve worked hard for your position in life, haven’t you?”

The Texan father nodded in cold agreement.

“So what would pride a totally traditional cowboy more than his ranch, his woman, and his legacy?”

Nolan groaned as he instantly unbuckled the massive lock hiding his mighty steed. Huffing loudly, the Southern Baptist’s lil’ pony was wrangled into a full-fledged stallion, the kind that was built to produce offspring. And the kind that got worked up over anything that could threaten the generational uniformity his family, religion, and nation he swore to protect.

“And you, Asher,” the host swiped over to the final contestant. “What’s stopping you from becoming the total Harvard bastard?”

Asher’s face went red and his cock went hard.

“I’m talking complete corruption, pure privilege, Daddy’s little-”

The host was suddenly cut off by a loud holler, the exclaim like the crashing waves of the ocean. Immediately, the comment section blew up as the host, players, and audience watched the surfer jock release a blast of his sea salt spray.

But before the host could congratulate the first winner, the southern father turned around the corner. With one hand whipping his meat and the other held tightly onto his hat, it was only mere moments until the inevitable:

“YEEHAW!”

Once again, the audience burst into merriment over the propagating blast. It was then that Aaron’s anger truly took the best of him. He couldn’t be beaten by two no-names! He was the top of his class, an heir to a Fortune 500 company, and a totally normal man for Christ’s sake! Gripping his pecker and shining it furiously, Aaron accepted his heterosexual rage and vowed that he would win and please his…please his…!

“F…FAAAAATHERR!”

A loud, pretentious yell echoed out of the Harvard student, an endless splurge of funds dumping out of his mighty account. It was just one of the many things his heritage’s estate had granted him.

The host didn’t try to hide his devious sneer as the viewers erupted once more. He’d loved his job because everyone won every time. And now, seeing all the new stereotypical straights he’d created, the host couldn’t help but feel his own massive sausage chub. But he laughed the feeling off, knowing beating off over these other men wouldn’t have been “totally normal.”

“And it looks like with just a minute left on the clock, all three of our contestants will be going home as winners today!” The host then added his artificial rounds of applause. “So, did you three ever figure out what makes you ‘Totally Normal’?”

“Isn’t it obvious, brah?” Cody replied, the typical airhead more sure of himself now than when he had dropped out of high school. “It’s that we’re straight, mannnn…”

“He’s right, partner!” Norman added, his fatherly conviction always strong and steady. “Ain’t none of us are them faggots. If Ah do say so myself, we are all what the mighty Lord named men.”

“Well, if that is what common plebians such as yourself are called, then you shall address me as ‘I-V’,” Asher Osvald IV’s voice was doused in entitlement and a lack of understanding for anyone but himself. A pair of offscreen hands adjusted his tie just to prove his privilege. “After all, I do attend Harvard. I guess you could say I was destined for greatness since birth.”

“Yes, Asher, everyone here knows you are a prick.” The host immediately followed up his quip with a laugh track. “But that’s all we have for today’s show. Signing off, this is Host DJ!”

“Hang ten and surfs up, dudes!”

“The biggest rodeo’s the family and kids y’all!”

“I’m probably way richer than you vagrants, so don’t bother.”

“And don’t forget to ask yourself,” the host winked before adding in the final audio. “ARE YOU NORMAL?”

#gay to straight #dumber #bottomtotop #nerdtojock #political #lib to con #preppification #unintendedresults #Christian

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