#Electricity bill name change

[tommygotwrittenoff]

things i think buddie would argue about after moving in together: buying organic, the tupperware cabinet, couch throw pillows, the coffee maker

[harrywritingsbyme]

The Sweetest Case

a/n: hey y’all, long time no see, lol. I caught the writing bug that included follow-through with writing, editing, and posting. I just had this random idea pop into my head at 3am one night and figured I’d give it a stab. This one is so cute and will be a two-parter and potentially a mini-series. Also, the characters are down horrendous for each other. The second part is going to have my world-famous smut lol, so don’t worry lol. I’ve just been in a fluffy, very cutesy vibe for a long time, and idk if y’all were into that, given my normally smut-heavy writing. Anyway, I hope u like it…enjoy 🫶🏾😗

a baker!Harry au

pinterest mood board ♡

summary: an attorney’s structured life is turned upside down when a charming café owner shows her that love might just be the sweetest case she’ll ever take on.

word count ~ 6.2k words

Not even in your wildest dreams would you have thought that your late commute into the office on a random Tuesday morning would bring you and the man of your dreams together. You knew that casually stumbling across the love of your life wasn’t completely farfetched. But since it’d been confined solely to the pages of the books you’d read on the train to and from work, you were a bit weary of its potential.

But you were in for a rude awakening when you stumbled into the café a block from your office. You were already running late due to your choice of snoozing your alarm three times that morning, so you couldn’t stop at your regular coffee shop on your way to the train. However, no matter how late you were, you would never skip your morning latte. Maybe you’re a creature of habit, or perhaps you have a serious caffeine addiction; regardless, you were going to stop for your morning fix.

You’d seen the quaint shop on the corner on your walks to work, never stopping in, merely eyeing the pastries and deserts through the window as you walked by. You hated the coffee in your office, so there was no other option but to grab a coffee from the charming shop. You stepped underneath the pale green and white awning, pulling open the surprisingly heavy door with curly letters spelling out Sugar Bowl Bakery & Café. When you step inside, you’re immediately enveloped by the warm air and delicious smell of freshly baked goods circulating through the room.

Upon stepping up to the counter, you’re face to face with a pretty handsome barista in what you assumed to be the standard issue pale green apron for the shop and a name tag with Harry scrawled across it clipped to the top.

“What can I get for you this morning?” Harry rasps from behind the counter, a smile forming on his lips as you break from your thoughts at the sound of his voice.

“Oh- um…” You stammer, breaking away from your inner thoughts. “Could I get a vanilla latte, please?” You rush out, a little flustered at your noticed staring. “And a croissant, please!” You quickly add.

“Of course.” Harry chuckles softly, adding the haphazard croissant to your order. “Can I get a name for the order?” He adds, despite you being the only order at the moment.

“Y/n”

“Thanks, that’ll be $8.34.” ‘Pretty,’ Harry thinks as he replies, biting his lip to stop himself from beaming down at you. It only worsens for him as he watches you maneuver into your purse through your jacket, fishing through your things to find your wallet. At that moment, Harry’s wracking his brain to know if he’s seen anyone as beautiful and adorable as you were at this moment. And he comes up short.

“Here ya go.” You smile, handing over the $10 bill you’d pulled from your wallet. He quickly pulls your change from the register along with your receipt.

“Your order will be ready in a couple of minutes.” Harry carefully hands you the receipt and change, his fingers lightly brushing against your palm.

“Thanks.” You whisper back with a small smile, dropping the change in the tip jar and stepping away from the counter. You weren’t sure if you were just imagining things or if you felt a shock of electricity run through your hand when he touched yours. And you weren’t imagining things; Harry could feel it too, not that either of you could confirm or deny at that moment anyway. You were so caught up in the whirlwind that was Harry that you weren’t even stressed about being late for work.

After waiting a couple moments, Harry calls your name with your order in hand.

“Have a good one.” He says, his eyes locking on yours as a bright smile spreads across his lips.

“Thanks, you too.” You reply with a smile, taking the items from his hands. Again, your hands brush against him, and you feel a jolt of electricity flow through your hands. So no, you weren’t just imagining it the first time. You quickly turn and walk out of the shop, desperately trying to shake off the butterflies starting to attack your stomach.

As you walked away, Harry’s eyes never left you, following your every move until you were out of his sight. It was as if you and he were sharing one feeling. A feeling of excitement and hope to see each other again and simply be in one another’s presence. It was overwhelming but in a good way. A feeling that both of you wanted to feel again and neither of you wanted to forget.

While you walked toward your office, you finally took a sip of the hot drink in your hand. You didn’t know if you were biased towards the man making it, but this had to be the best latte you’d ever had. Either way, you were planning on becoming a regular at the establishment.

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And a regular you were. For a month or so straight, you came in every morning on your way to work, stopping in for your regular vanilla latte and croissant and your daily chats with Harry. You both secretly wished you could sit down and become properly acquainted, but the morning rush in the shop had other plans. Either way, you two appreciated the small interactions. In fact, they stayed on your minds all day long and kept you both afloat until the next morning when you got to do it all over again.

There was one morning, though, where there was absolutely no way you two could even say good morning to each other, as the place was just about packed to the brim. Even though the place was already popular, the muffins randomly went viral, and everyone flooded into the bakery to get their hands on them. In your head, you were patting yourself on the back for being ahead of the muffin curve. The shop was so packed that the only interaction you two had was a glance and smile when he turned at the sound of your voice as you placed your order. Yes, he remembered your voice. It’d be kind of hard to not remember your voice as he replayed it in his head nearly every chance he got. Not only did he remember your voice, he remembered your smile, your laugh, your presumably unorganized purse, given the way you always had to fish around for your wallet, and your bright yet soft aura that undoubtedly flooded the room and his being whenever you walked in.

Because of this incessant need for Harry to be around you, he decided to take the leap and unofficially ask you out. When your name was called to pick up your order, you grabbed the cup and bag and shuffled through the crowd and out the door. Only when you stepped onto the elevator of your office building did you see the note Harry had written on the bag. ‘Sorry, we couldn’t have our usual chat this morning. Stop by around lunchtime, I’ve heard our lunch menu is the best around. H.’ If there weren’t three other people in the elevator, you would’ve squealed from excitement. For the rest of the morning, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the clock, hoping it’d strike noon already so you could dash out of the office and back to the café. 

When the time was finally on your side, you shot up from your desk, grabbing your jacket and purse before dashing out of the office. You stopped in the bathroom to straighten out your clothes and hair before taking the elevator down to the lobby. On your short walk to the shop, you tried your hardest to slow your breathing and heart rate, which was extremely elevated from excitement and nerves. It’s not like it was an official date. Right? Either way, your efforts were in vain because the moment you stepped into the warm establishment, your eyes met Harry’s, and your heart was ready to explode out of your chest all over again.

He’s leaning against the ledge behind the counter, waiting for your arrival. For the past 15 minutes before you came in, he kept an eye on the door, his head tilting up every time he heard the small bell on the door ring. Harry was doing his best to keep cool, trying his best to avoid thoughts of you not showing up or not being into him the way he was into you. Harry and yourself would’ve thought that at your age, you’d be calmer and less anxious about someone you were romantically interested in. But even though you could’ve kicked yourselves for being so infatuated with the other, neither of you cared to fight it much because, deep down, you both had a feeling that it’d be worth it.

“I was told that this place has an excellent lunch menu.” You hum, unwrapping your scarf that was bundled up around your neck.

“I’d have to agree with that.” He chuckles, beaming down at you from across the counter. “What can I get you, love?” He adds with a smile, making your heart flutter a bit.

“I’ll have whatever you recommend.” You reply, putting the choice for lunch in his hands.

“Alright, any allergies I should know about?” He continues.

“Nope.” You pop back, reaching into your purse for your wallet to pay. When he sees you going to pay, he quickly stops you in your tracks.

“No need, it’s on the house.” Harry quickly rushes out. He hadn’t even put the order into the system.

“You sure?” You shoot a questioning pout in his direction, weary of him picking up your tab.

“Yes. Now, how about you go and pick a seat, and I’ll bring the food to you? " he lightheartedly instructs, sending you on your way while he heads towards the kitchen in the back.

When you’re out of his sight, you drop the cash you would’ve spent in the tip jar and turn to find a seat in the tranquil café. You pick an able that’s in a corner by the window and make yourself comfortable while you wait.

In what seemed like no time at all, in the corner of your eye, you see Harry coming in your direction with a tray of food in hand.

“Alright, I picked some of my favorites off the menu.” He says, strategically placing everything down so it could fit onto the small café table before sitting in front of you.

“Everything looks amazing.”You whisper, taking in everything he’d placed before you. You were a little curious, though, as to how he could have possibly known that you were the type to have two beverages, with a cup of tea and a glass of ice water on the table for you. You were even more curious about why he hung around with you. “Why are you sitting? I’m not gonna be the one to get you in trouble with your boss, Harry.” You pointedly add.

“Love, it’s kind of hard to get in trouble with the boss when you own the place,” Harry smirks, sending a slight wink your way before making up his tea.

“You’ve been the owner this entire time?!” You whisper-shout across the table, a little shocked at the revelation.

Harry then goes on to explain that he’d opened this second location for his bakery almost two years ago, a little while before you started at your firm, and often frequented to help out a bit. He also explained how he wasn’t even supposed to be there the morning you first came in and that he was only in to help a bit since some of the staff were sick. Maybe it was meant to be, after all. Especially since you were running late for work and needed a quick coffee in the area that morning. 

For the next half hour or so, you two talked and ate, discussing almost everything from your families to your jobs and hobbies. He told you about how he’d recently become an uncle (which he was beaming about from across the table) and how he’s a shop owner professionally, but his passion is baking. He developed just about every recipe for every item sold in the café. Harry also brought up how he was working on a cookbook and creating new recipes, which led him to his favorite show, ironically enough, The Great British Bakeoff. Which also explained the accent.

Conversely, you told him that you were an attorney, which he was thoroughly impressed by, but not so impressed that he asked you everything you could possibly imagine about your job, which was refreshing, believe it or not. You went on about how you related to him about being close with your mom and how you enjoyed cooking from time to time. You were also similar in the way your favorite shows matched your profession in some way, your show being tied between Suits and Law & Order.

The two of you could’ve kept talking all afternoon long had it not been time for you to return to the office.

“Thanks for lunch, Harry. I think it may just be the best lunch around.” You smile, biting the inside of your lip as you stand from the table. “And I’m serious about being a taste tester for your cookbook. I’m never going to turn down a sweet treat.” You remind him, bundling yourself up again to brave the cool air outside.

“Well, since you’re going to be my taste tester, I think that warrants getting your phone number. So that I can keep you up to date on recipe developments.” He rations, standing up from the table as well.

“Yeah, I wanna be developed on all things recipes.” You counter, fighting back the giggle that was bubbling in your throat. You pull your phone out from your jacket pocket and hand it over for him to put his number in. “The Handsome Baker? That’s what you’re going with?” You laugh, staring down at the new contact.

“Well I mean, do you disagree?” He cocks his head to the side with a wide smirk spread across his face.

“I plead the fifth.” This time, fully biting your lip to conceal your dopey smile. You quickly shrug on your coat and slide your purse onto your shoulder before stopping directly in front of Harry. “I‘ll text you later…” You softly hum up to him, lightly tapping his chest. “About the recipes.” You add with a closed smile before making your way out of the door and back to work.

His eyes follow you as you walk toward your office until you’re out of sight. As he cleans up the table, his mind is solely on you. He replays the entire conversation with you repeatedly for the rest of the day and the next morning when he sees you again. You decided to toy with him a bit and text him until the next morning, getting the sense that he was waiting for your message. You were completely correct about it because he texted you back less than 5 minutes after you’d sent the initial message. 

For the next week or so, the two of you kept up the same morning coffee and light lunches routine. The conversation flowed continuously; if you two had it your way, you’d never leave your designated table in the corner by the window. Of the 6 lunches you two had, he only let you pay for two. In between, you two would be texting back and forth almost nonstop. And there was only one mention of the recipes you signed up to taste test for.

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One day, though, you were unable to make your regularly scheduled lunch “date.” Your firm had just brought on a new client, and you were tasked with writing up a legal brief. This meant you’d be glued to your desk until at least 3 p.m. and unable to take your standard hour lunch.

You: hey, i won’t be able to make it for lunch today…boss dropped a project on my desk :(

The Handsome Baker : No worries :)

Now get back to work! Don’t wanting you getting in trouble with the boss. ;)

You couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips before turning your phone over and getting back to work. Believe it or not, you could completely lock in and focus on your work for the next hour. That is, until your desk phone rang, breaking you out of your work-related daze.

“Hey Emma.” You greet the receptionist through the phone, cradling it between your ear and shoulder as you went back to typing on your desktop.

“Hey, Y/n. Sorry to interrupt, but security just called up saying that you had a delivery in the lobby.” The receptionist replied in her usual chipper voice.

“Thanks, I’m heading down now.” You had a history of forgetting what you ordered online but wouldn’t have anything delivered to your job. But you figured stretching your legs couldn’t hurt, so you slipped your heels back on and made your way to the elevator and down to the lobby.

When you stepped off the elevator and rounded the corner, any confusion you had completely melted away. You were greeted with a smiling Harry standing at the security desk with a brown paper bag and what you presumed to be your go-to latte order in his hands.

On the flip side, Harry could feel his entire body warm when he saw you walking in his direction. He’d seen you dressed in your usual office attire (minus the glasses), but seeing you walking towards him as Y/n, the attorney, was an entirely different sight. It was like every other noise around him faded into nothing; only your heels clicking against the ground and your cheery voice as you closed in on him met his ears.

“Thanks, Andrew.” You greet the security guard as you push past the turnstiles, standing fully before Harry. “I could get used to the personal delivery.” You smirk, trying to conceal the millions of butterflies swarming around your stomach and chest at the sweet gesture.

“Well, you have to eat, and your favorite restaurant closes at 6pm. Plus I figured you could use a caffeinated pick me up.” He slightly tilts his head to the side, giving you a little smile.

“Who sad it was my favorite?” You poke back, mirroring his head tilt.

“Judging by the way I’ve seen you every morning and afternoon for almost two months, it’s safe to say you’re a big fan.” He grins, knowing he got you there.

“I guess so. But it’s only because I’ve heard the owner is kinda cute, can bake a great pastry, and makes a mean vanilla latte.” You whisper back, fully beaming up at Harry now.

Harry’s mind scrambles at your comment, his heart threatening to explode out of his chest and onto the glimmering floor. His mind only races further when your hands brush against his to take the cup and bag from him.

“Thanks for lunch. I’ll text you later.” You reach up to leave a small peck on his cheek before returning to the elevators. As you turn the corner, you sneak a glance back in Harry’s direction to find him still standing there with his eyes solely on you. He hated to admit it, but as good it was to see you coming, it was even better to see you going.

As if you were telepathically linked, as soon as you were out of each other's sight, you both took a deep breath, your brains completely wracked from your interaction. The both of you were stunned at the gall on both of your parts in that small timeframe. For the rest of the day, it's all either of you could think about; thankfully, you were in the final stretch of your brief. Harry had brought you your favorite sandwich on the menu, a pastry he knew you loved, and a cupcake from a recipe he was testing out. You were his designated taste tester, after all. And you made sure to let him know, declaring it the best thing he's ever baked in his entire life over text.

That night, after all those unofficial lunch dates and secretly (quite obviously actually) pining for one another, especially after that afternoon, Harry finally made an official move.

The Handsome Baker: What’s your favorite dish?

You: spaghetti carbonara??

 are you going to make a carbonara flavored cupcake for the cookbook??

  i’ll try it but i'm not sure about that one…

The Handsome Baker: Not quite.

I thought we could make it together in the café kitchen this Friday around 8pm?

You: sounds like a date!

And just like that, you and Harry had your first official date scheduled for Friday night. Let’s just say you both were giggling and kicking your feet as you went to bed that night.

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Friday night couldn’t have come sooner; you two only had to wait two days, by the way. But to be fair, you hadn’t seen each other since Harry brought you lunch earlier in the week. The universe decided it’d be great to completely inundate you both with work the week of your first official date. Harry was busy at his other café location on the completely opposite side of town, and you were in meeting after meeting with clients and dissecting contracts page after page. But again, the only thing keeping Harry and yourself going was your date.

The day finally arrives, and a cocktail of nerves and excitement runs through your veins. While you’ve dated and done the first date thing plenty of times, you’d never had as good of a feeling about them as you did about the upcoming date with Harry. You couldn’t articulate it yet, but something was different this time.

Before you even pick out what you're wearing to work in the morning, you plan your outfit for that night. Up until now, Harry had only ever seen you in a suit or suit adjacent. You always felt confident, strong, and smart in your suits and workwear. But now you just wanted to feel soft and pretty. So, for almost an hour, you flipped through just about your entire closet, eventually settling on the perfect dress. It's not too dressy or too casual, but just right. After finally nailing down what you were going to wear, all the way through to the accessories and how you would do your hair, you finally got yourself dressed and out of the door to work. 

While you were playing dress up and running late for work, Harry was flying around town picking up items for that evening. He picked up all the ingredients for dinner, stopping at three different grocery stores to get the best ingredients. He also grabbed your favorite bottle of wine, which he only knew to get since you’d sent a picture of the label a couple weeks ago after he mentioned wanting to try it. Along with the groceries and wine, Harry hauled his stand mixer and its fifty million attachments from his home kitchen to the café, stashing everything away into its proper places until he needed them later.

For the rest of the day, you two were locked into your work. You were almost certain you were typing and reading faster than normal, intent on walking out of the office at 5pm on the dot. Harry started the next day's prep work earlier than normal, making sure that he could send everyone home earlier to have the kitchen to himself. And right on schedule, you were heading home to get ready, and Harry had done the last bit of cleaning before sending his staff home early for the evening.

At that point, the countdown had begun. You were taking your precious time getting ready and refusing to account for Friday night traffic. Harry was practically in an episode of the amazing race, trying to get home to shower and change, stop by the florist before they closed to pick up a small flower arrangement, and set up the kitchen all before you arrived. While he may have appeared to be going mad and doing the absolute most, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. Because similarly to how you felt, Harry had this gut feeling about you. While there was still so much more for you two to learn about each other, he thought that you already knew him so well. You two just clicked. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you off, but Harry was in love. And he was ready to say it whenever you were. He was just praying you felt the same way. 

❃❃❃❃❃

The Beautiful Attorney: i’m outside :)

As soon as he saw your message, Harry rushed up from his table in the seating area of the café to the door to let you in, on the way, drying his sweaty palms on his pants. He could see your shoes tapping on the ground outside the door window, and a smile instantly made all his nerves disappear. When the door swings open, your eyes immediately meet, and your arms pull each other into a tight and long-awaited embrace. His arms snake around your waist while yours glide around his neck. You two whisper small ‘hi’s’ into each other’s ears. Upon pulling away from the embrace, Harry closes and locks the shop door, shutting out the cold air. He then helps you out of your coat, draping it over the table he once sat at, and leads you into the kitchen.

“So this is where the magic happens.” You hum, taking in the well lit kitchen. Your heart swelled at the sight of the full bouquet of flowers sitting on the counter.

“Indeed it is…” Harry chuckles. “Now put this on,” He continues, handing you a green and white striped apron to put on. Once you slip the apron around your neck, Harry reaches around you to tightly wind the ties around your waist to tie them together in the front. “Don’t your pretty dress getting dirty,” He mutters, intently tying them into a bow. When he’s done, Harry absentmindedly cups your hips, giving them a small pat before rounding the counter.

At that moment, all you wanted him to do was pull you against his chest and give you one of the best kisses of your life. Knock the air out of your lungs and officially claim you as his. You thought good things come to those who wait as you moved next to him.

“So I figured we could make everything from scratch.” Harry grins, starting to set up the stand mixer.

“I thought so…I hope that doesn’t include the wine though. I’m not a crushing grapes with my feet kind of girl.” You joke.

“Your favorite bottle is in the fridge, " he chuckles, watching you giddily skip over to the fridge in response. And could you grab the shopping bag in there, too?” You follow his orders. You sit the heavy bag of groceries on the counter before abandoning it to focus on opening the chilled bottle. Harry watches in amusement as you concentrate on maneuvering the cork out of the bottle.

“I had a long week okay.” You justify, eventually prying the cork out.

“Why don’t you tell me about it.” He offers, placing two wine glasses in front of you to fill.

You then go on to tell him about your week, every once in a whileawhile he’ll interject to know if the person you’re talking about is the same one you mentioned in previous conversations. You were impressed at how he remembered the little things you’d mentioned previously.

For the next hour the two of you cook, laugh and dance around the kitchen. Harry shows you how to make the absolute perfect pasta from scratch, somehow managing to make you want to cook more instead of just ordering out. After dropping the flour covered pasta into the boiling water, instead of prepping for the next step, Harry grabs you by your waist and spins you around the kitchen to the beat of the music playing out of his phone.

You two wouldn't have stopped if it hadn’t been for the stupid timer. While you were mixing the eggs and cheese for the pasta sauce, Harry was telling you about a potential new recipe for his cookbook. However, all you could think about was how he still hadn’t kissed you despite there being at least two open windows this night alone. You’re only broken out of your thoughts when you see Harry turn away from the stove towards you for your thoughts. You brush off your thoughts, telling him that the recipe sounded good.

Not long after, you two finish cooking dinner. Harry let you sit at the stainless island while he plated the food before taking a seat as well. Your aprons were removed, and you two were finally digging into your creation. It had to have been the best meal you’d ever had, and you weren’t saying that just because you were hungry or because it was Harry who helped make it. You two continued chatting over dinner about your families, shows you were watching, and everything else under the sun.

“I really hope we don’t have to make dessert too. I’m in a bit of a food coma.” You huff, pushing your cleaned plate towards the middle of the island.

“Don’t worry, I already took care of that for you.” Harry chuckles, standing up from the island. He places your dishes into the sink before opening the fridge to grab a small brown box filled with your favorite sweet treat. “I know it’s your favorite.” He grins, sliding the box towards you. When you look into the box, your eyes immediately light up at what’s inside. The cupcakes Harry had you try two weeks ago were sitting in the box just for you. And you waste no time flipping the clear lid off and popping one of the cakes out. You’re so engrossed in the delicious cupcake that you don’t even notice Harry intently watching you as he leaned against the counter next to you. That is, until you set the cupcake down on the counter to take a breath and pace yourself.

“Want a bite?” You motion down to the half eaten cupcake.

“I’m good love.” Harry smiles.

“You sure, it’s a really good cupcake.” You ask again, now looking up at him.

“Positive” He snickers, noticing you had a little frosting on the tip of your nose. But before he could even swipe it away, you were already standing in front of him with the other side of the cupcake waiting for him to take a bite.

“You have to taste your work.” You insist, your smirk becoming a grin when he takes a bite. “Good, right?” You add, to which Harry nods in response.

“But you already knew that since you have frosting all over your face.” He jokes, finally wiping away the frosting from your nose with his thumb. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, from the gesture.

At that moment, Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of you, and you couldn’t take your eyes off of him. His hand still rests against your face, shifting slightly to fully cup your cheek. Both of your hearts were racing, your stomach inundated with butterflies, and your chests rising and falling quicker than before. You shift slightly towards him, with your hands coming up to rest softly against his chest, nonverbally giving him the green light. The millionth one of you were being completely honest. However, this time, he got the memo loud and clear.

His free hand goes to your hip, gliding around to the small of your back to press you further into him. And without any further delay, Harry finally and firmly plants his lips on yours. It’s as if your entire body takes a big sigh of relief, instantly relaxing into his touch. In that moment, you two are perfectly in sync, his lips slotted with yours as he guided your movements. After a few more seconds, his lips separate from yours, allowing you both to come up for air. The both of you were panting messes, your warm breaths fanning across your faces.

“Took you long enough.” You lightly laugh as you nudge your nose against his, reaching up to wind your fingers around the short hairs at the nape of his neck.

“Well, allow me to make up for lost time.” Harry hums, smashing his lips back onto yours. He was now standing completely straight, holding you firmly against him. While his grip on you was firm, his hold was still gentle. Despite his fervent kisses, like your lips were the oxygen he needed to survive, his touch was delicate. His passion for you wasn’t overpowering; it was perfect. When you parted your lips, granting his tongue access to your mouth, he didn’t rush to cram it practically down your throat (like others in the past had). He took his time and was gentle. And all you could do was contently sigh against his lips from how absolutely perfect the moment was.

Eventually, you two flipped places with your back being now against the island. Only this time, you were being lifted up to sit on the cool steel counter. You slowly pull away from his lips, playfully snagging his bottom lip between your teeth a little as you pulled back.

“I wouldn’t want to defile your kitchen any further.” You whisper to Harry, your hands coming around from his neck back to their original spot on his chest. “Plus, I don’t intend on breaking any more of my dating rules with you tonight.” You assert. You weren’t a kiss on the first date, girl, let alone an entire make-out session like the one you enjoyed not even a minute ago.

“I’ll have you know that I’m a proper gentleman.” Harry pokes back proudly, moving back further to get a better look at you while planting his palms firmly onto the counter on either side of where you’re sitting.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” You smirk, lightly poking a finger at his chest.

“And I intend to prove it to you.” He smiles, pecking your cheek.

“Are you asking me out on another date.” Because if he was, you were definitely saying yes.

“I’m asking you out on as many as you’ll have me.” He counters, a dopey smile falling onto his face as he took your features in. Yeah, it was official…Harry was in love.

You couldn’t stop yourself from pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, giddy with the prospect of going on more dates with him in the future. Hopefully forever.

After begging Harry to let you help him with the dishes and him standing firmly in his answer of absolutely not, you were finally heading back home. And, of course, he called you an Uber back home and made sure you arrived home safely. For the rest of the night, while you were getting ready for bed and while Harry was closing the kitchen, there was a permanent smile etched onto your faces as you replayed the night's events over and over again. You both wanted to relive it in your heads as many times as possible until the next time when you two got to do it all over again.

You: i had a great time with you tonight. can’t wait to do it again soon. <3

And almost instantly you got a response back.

The Handsome Baker: I had a wonderful time as well.

Just got in.

Sleep well, and I can’t wait to see you again. <3

Seeing him mirror your little heart made it nearly impossible for you to go to bed, but you managed to eventually fall asleep. And you indeed slept well. The both of you did. And you were pleasantly greeted the next morning with a text from Harry.

The Handsome Baker: Good morning beautiful.

You should stop by the café so I can kiss you again, and again.

After rereading the text at least 100 times, you fall back into your plush pillows, staring up at the ceiling in pure bliss. Yeah, this was shaping up to be the sweetest case you’d ever take on.

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i hope y'all liked it ♡ Masterlist

[ckret2]

A leaked list of some of the exciting upcoming content from The Book of Bill:

The pyramids of Giza ranked from most to least sexy.

Winning lottery numbers. He does not say which game they're for.

Three pages of Bill practicing blackletter calligraphy so that he can write the fancy-looking "The Book of Bill" on the cover. (Meant to tear those pages out before submitting book to publisher.)

A section where he implies that all your headcanons about him are stupid. Yes, your headcanons specifically. If you compare your copy of the book to a friend's, these sections will have different text. He insults all headcanons equally, even the ones that contradict each other.

A long, rambling story about a funny thing that he saw at a party in the Nightmare Realm, but he keeps getting distracted gossiping about the embarrassing love affairs and crimes against reality the partygoers have committed. Not a single one of these characters has ever been mentioned before or ever will be again. He gets so distracted he never finishes the original funny story. He was clearly drunk when he wrote this section.

A pet care sheet on how to keep a pet axolotl. All of the information is extremely wrong.

Some of the other dimensions he's tried and failed to conquer. He keeps insisting that all the failures were somebody else's fault. It's extremely obvious that they're his fault.

A photograph of a vivisected elephant, for some reason.

A phone number written on a cocktail napkin that Bill insists would be really funny for all the readers to prank call. It leads to the desk phone of the director of the CIA. 

Bill claims he definitely totally knew that Stan was disguised as Ford the whole time, he only played along to trick the Pines back, and then he quickly changes the topic.

A page of Bill's original poetry. It's all unintelligible symbols. It will take 27 years for somebody to crack the code. They're all gory but juvenile limericks.

A cocktail recipe. It will kill you.

Bill's original version of the portal blueprints that he copied to give Ford, with Bill's handwritten annotations. One part of the blueprints is labeled "component that will accidentally destroy the universe. REMEMBER NOT TO INCLUDE THIS COMPONENT IN SIXER'S COPY!!" He underlined this twice. If this page is compared to the portal blueprints in Journal 3, it's clear that Bill included that component in Ford's copy.

A personality quiz to help you meet your ideal sleep paralysis demon.

Bill's baby pictures. He looks exactly the same, except his bow tie and top hat are too big.

Bill reveals that he thought the llama symbol on the zodiac wheel referred to that farmer guy on the edge of town, and he was super confused to see Pacifica there.

Multiple pages scattered through the book about Bill's amazing powers, his brilliant and fun plans for our dimension, and all the cool favors he's willing and able to do for his friends and followers. All these pages end with a passive-aggressive aside about how somebody would have to be REALLY stupid to turn down an invitation to join Bill's crew, Stanford Pines—

A page labeled "My loyal servants and slaves!" filled with several hideous, oozing, nightmare-inducing Lovecraftian monsters, and one Mickey Mouse.

A self-portrait depicting Bill riding a rocket ship playing an electric guitar while rainbow lightning flashes all around him and money rains down from the sky.

A cynical, sneering tirade about how love is evolution's idiotic way of tricking primitive species into reproducing and how only simple-minded mortals who can't separate their true thoughts from their hormones fall for it. In the margins he's drawn a heart around the words "Bill Cipher +" a scribbled-out blot. The blot is completely unreadable. Despite this, the fandom will spend years debating the name underneath based on the size of the blot.

Extremely stupid "explanations" about various unsolved mysteries and crimes. In six years the world will discover one of them is accidentally correct and Alex Hirsch will get investigated by the FBI.

The book will be divided into four sections. Each section will begin with a big illuminated letter. In order, the four illuminated letters spell "F" "U" "C" "K".

[pfhwrittes]

taking a leaf out of @syoddeye’s book and talking about divorced versions of the 141 under the cut.

(pass me the emergency cigarette 🚬)

trigger warnings: controlling financial behaviour/financial abuse, stalking, referenced off screen masturbation, religion/catholicism, implied blowjob (johnny receiving), noncon.

pairings: john price x gender neutral reader, simon “ghost” riley x gender neutral reader, john “soap” mactavish x gender neutral reader, kyle “gaz” garrick x gender neutral reader.

a little unedited drabble typed up on my phone for you all 💜

18+ only please and thank you due to suggestive content below the cut!

look, sy said it best with their posts when it comes to ex-husband john price.

he’ll let you stretch out your leash, let you go running into the arms of another person if he has to, but remember sweetheart — he made vows to do right by you and he plans on keeping them.

monthly maintenance payments, paid in a hand delivered envelope of cash, are a regular occurrence. every third thursday of the month he darkens your doorstep. the envelope is fat with five pound notes and he takes great pleasure in making you count it all out in front of him every time.

he also doesn’t tell you that he still has access to the online portals where you he pays your electric and water bill. silly thing, he understands divorce is hard but really you should’ve noticed that you haven’t received a bill from them in years. however, if he spots that wet blanket you call your new partner sniffing around again he’ll happily let you freeze…

simon riley swore until “death does you part” and he means it.

you can move addresses, change your number, delete and remake your social media presence under a new name as many times as you like but while there’s still breath in his body and grave dirt under his nails, you are his.

don’t fight him, you were the first soft perfect beautiful good thing in his life and like a dog on a scent he will always find you.

your new place is nice, love, but you really should get them locks looked at. did he mention that he loves the new underwear you bought? no? that’s alright he’ll leave you a token of his appreciation spattered on the soft material of the gusset for you to find later…

johnny mactavish was married under the eyes of God, and what God has brought together let no man tear asunder. what’s that hen? you married him in a different ceremony? aye, he knows. you married him in a different ceremony. he married you as a Catholic.

don’t worry bonnie thing, he’ll let you atone for your numerous sins. start with some Hail Marys on your knees and don’t even think about moving your hands from the zip on his jeans. if you’re good he’ll let you take Communion. if you’re bad, well, you know what they say about washing the mouths of sinners out with soap…

kyle garrick makes your divorce proceedings as easy and as amicable as possible. he doesn’t accuse you of finding love elsewhere, he doesn’t beg to stay in the housing on base the two of you share. in fact as soon as he’s presented with the no-fault paperwork he signs and moves out that day with a lingering kiss to your cheek and a murmur in you ear that he’ll come to you immediately if you need anything, babe.

what you don’t know is that eight weeks before you got up the guts to ask for a divorce, he spotted your search history on the clever bit of kit he installed on your phone and put in a request to dissolve your housing agreement.

times ticking babe, even though you don’t know it, you’ve only got four weeks left on your tenancy and twenty weeks until proceedings start. don’t worry, he knows there’s no hard feelings. he even put your favourite sheets on the bed in his new flat off base — where he plans on keeping you until that silly idea of a divorce has leaked out of your ears under all the affection he plans on smothering you with…

[missbunnybunny]

『𝕬𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘.』

𝕿𝖜: somno, yandere, stalking, breaking and entering, fem-reader,non-con, manhandling, dubcon, overstim, Pervert!choso.«🛑𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸🛑» I think that's all.

NOTE: I don't know what I wrote. Not edited. Let me know if I missed anything.

You're desperate for a roommate. Entering your first year of college, you decided to find an off-campus apartment.

Thus, the reason why you're so desperate, you can't pay the bills yourself!

A friend recommended posting an advertisement online. So you did just that, asking for a roommate close your age.

Choso answered your ad, and after some questions, you decided that he was perfect. He was majoring in forensic.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who convinced you to get cameras for the apartment. " It's to make sure nothing happens. I wouldn't twant you getting hurt." He assured you.

But he doesn't tell you that he set up a few small ones in your room. He didn't want a random man with you in there.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who has a collection of videos of you changing. His favorites are when you try and fail to muffle your moans when you pleasure yourself.

He strokes his length at the same pace your fingers pound your hole. Whimpering your name with a fucked out face.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Gets brave and enters your room when you're deep a sleep. Removing the covers and taking pictures of your figure.

Your sleeping choices are an oversized t-shit and shorts. The shirt scrunched up, making you look delicious.

Fuch his getting hard just thinking about it.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who for nights on end just takes pictures of your clothed figure. Until it's not enough, he lifts your shirt and moans softly when he sees your perked up nipples.

Taking pictures of his hands squeezing your soft mount, his cock in between them. An electric pleasures shot throughout his body, at the feeling.

He takes pictures of his mouth around your cute lil nipples.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who slides your shorts just enough to see your clothed flower. He runs his finger against your slit, feeling a sticky pool form.

Who can't take it and uncovers your cunt, taking up close pictures. Some spreading your folds, some with his tip kissing your entrance.

He takes videos of how he ate you out like you were a 5 star meal.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes a video of his length rubbing against your fold, your honey coating his member as his hips buckle.

"Y/n-Ah- s-so good." He mumbles in a trance. His self-control slipped with every movement.

He knows it's wrong. But you feel so good to stop.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who takes his length and slowly begins to slit you open, sleepy moan and whimpers left your lips. Choso records the action, a perfect view of where you both connect.

He slowly fucks you, until he feels your walls flutter and constrict around him. He had to bite his shirt to stop himself from waking you up.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who has you coming on his cock, he want to desperately cum inside you but he pulls out before he spills his seed on your stomach.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: who cleans you and puts your clothes back. He exists your room, and he turned to his so he could masterbate to the video over again.

God, your face was so devine, drooling, and with your back arched. He wished he could fuck you silly, and have you past out around his length.

He secretly made your pleasured filled face his wallpaper.

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊!𝕽𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔: Who pretends he didn't fuck your sleeping body and carries on like normal. He continues to fuck you in your sleep, he feels a sense of pride when you complain about being soar the next morning.

You were doing homework in your room when your computer died. "Choso, can I use your computer?" You asked as you exited your room.

Choso called out in the affirmative from the living room. Entering choso's room, you quickly found his computer.

It was a large desktop with two screens. Signing into your Google docs, you continued your writing.

While typing your hand accidentally moved the mouse, opening a tab. Quickly going on to close it, not wanting to invade choso's privacy.

You froze, staring back at you was a video. One that had a setting that looked like your room, with shaking hand, you pressed play.

It was a view of someone entering your room before your sleeping figure came into view. You watched as choso began to touch your body.

The door to choso's room opened, and in walked the man himself.

Choso looked froze in his spot while you looked at him horrified. The video plays in the background.

Everything becomes a blur. Your body springs out of the chair. As choso moves closer to you, you make a room for the door.

But he catches you. His hand covers your mouth, and the other holds your waist, intrapping your arm.

Choso threw you both onto the bed, your body displayed on top of his. He kept you caged so you couldn’t run from him.

" shh, shh. It's okay, you know I wouldn't hurt you."He whispers seductively into your ear.

You try and struggle your way out of his grip, tears treating to fall. Your ass rubbed against his crotch and onto his growing bulge.

His hips thrust involuntary, in search of any pressure he could get. He whimpers in your ear, making you flush.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist slipped to your shorts. He tugged them down, gaining a startled yelp from you.

His fingers danced over your slit before plunging into your gummy walls. His pace was rough, making your back arch and muffle moans.

He can feel as your greedy hole clamps on his fingers. His palm rubs over your peal. It was over stimulating, and your eyes began to cross.

Your mind is going blank, stars behind your eyes. So much was happening at once, choso was finger fucking you while he humpped you like he was a dog in heat.

Trying to seek any pleasure he could from you.

He whispered, moaning your name, calling his good girl. The coil in your tummy snapped, and you twitched and convolced around his fingers.

Choso freed his hard on. Without warning, his tip began to kiss your entrance before he thrusted into you.

Your body twitched forwards, trying to escape the stimution, but choso's hand over your mouth was firm. Keeping you in place.

Your moans were like angelic calls to him, begging him to continue.

His shaft assaulted your G spot as he plunged roughly into your warmth. His hand snaked around your waist again, giving him a stable hold.

The new grip made it easier for him to abuse your womb. With every thrust, his length and girth made you stuffed.

His movements became uncoordinated as he reached his high. Your tummy tightened as the coil started to tighten.

Your mind was becoming mush, too cock drunk to think right. Choso rubbed your clit before giving it a pull.

The action broke you, pleasure electrocuted your brain, snapping your coil, and you came undone top of choso.

Choso removed his hand from your mouth, gripping your waist tightly as he pounded into you before stuttering and painting your warn walls white.

Unfiltered moans and whines left your over pleasuered body. Choso turned your face towards him and kissed you.

It was a hungry kiss, and he pumped more of his warm seed into you. Giving you a few more thrusts to make sure you didn't spill a single drop.

"Ah-G-good girl. So good f-for me." He says out of breath, almost slured before he pulled out.

His seed and your honey mixed into a puddle into the sheets. By now, you had passed out.

"Next time, let's do a sex tape." He chuckles at your sleeping face.

[devilsandwings]

Quiet Scenes- A Paul mescal fic

Synopsis: This will be an ongoing story. About Paul Mescal and a singer/actress with Sabrina Carpenters discography. That’s all I’ll reveal for now, read to find out. Love yall 💕

1k words ~ CW: none

This indicates a flashback ✨

March 12, 2023

I’m sitting at the Academy Awards, sipping on my champagne and gossiping with my best friend, Florence Pugh. She’s presenting an award with Andrew Garfield later tonight, you’re her guest. “…so anyway after all of that they ended up getting back together.” Florence finished her story about one of her friends.

“Wow yea that is ridiculous why would she take him back after that.” I responded in bewilderment of her story. She just shrugs her shoulders and the lights dim. Jimmy Kimmel comes back out onto the stage.

~

The night has been going great, you and Florence are having an amazing time. She killed it presenting, the host is funny, you’re running into friends and icons. You’re having a wonderful time at the Oscars. The announcers voice booms over the audience, “Please welcome academy award winners Jessica Chastain and Halle berry”

The two women walk onto the stage in their beautiful gowns. They smile at the assuring crowd as they walk to the microphone. “When an actor or actress first approaches a role we use every tool at our disposal to help us create the world of the character” Jessica says, reading the teleprompter. They continue about how actors create their characters.

“Here are the nominees for best performance from an actor in a leading role” Halle says

“Austin Butler, Elvis.” The announcer exclaims. The screen above the stage changes to a camera of Austin at his seat, he smiles and looks at his costar. The crowd erupts with applause. The announcer continues to read off names and the crowd cheers.

“Would now be a bad time to tell you I’ve never seen Elvis?” Florence whispers to you

I turn my head and gasp at her, “YOU WHAT” I whisper yell at her, but it doesn’t really matter nobody else can hear us over the cheering for Colin Farrell. “Ma’am you have to see it, I’m showing it to you next time you come over, I own it.” She laughs at my demand and nods her head, she cheers for Brendan Fraser.

I turn my head back to the screen as the announcer says, “Paul Mescal, Aftersun.” My brain screeched to a hault at the mention of his name. Then he was on the screen, wearing a white suit. He looked good, really good. “Bill Nighy…” the announcer continues. Just like that he was gone again. Florence cheered and smiled at me with an exaggerated smile, yay see you worked with him and his next role got an Oscar nomination, she’s probably saying in her head.

She doesn’t know what happened, I didn’t tell her. How could I have told her? She loved Mike, she would have been so mad at me. I’ve never seen her mad before, upset and frustrated sure, but mad? No, and I do not want to see it.

“Do you mind if I sit with ya? My trailers a Sauna.” Paul asks, sticking his head into my trailer. “Well we’re in Australia, so it’s hot in my trailer too but sure.” I retorted. “You’re probably just looking to escape your own mess.” He closes the trailer door and puts his hand over his chest, “You wound me, I thought we were friends.” He “stumbles” down onto a chair. I roll my eyes at him and throw a pretzel out of my bowl at him, “friends don’t steal from each other.” “Don’t bake delicious biscuits and expect me not to eat some” he says to you smiling, looking at you with those blue eyes. You look back into them, you could look into them forever. Your eyes meet, and the moment hangs there, magical, electric. Then breaking the spell he clears his throat and looks away from me.

The announcer finished the names and all the nominees are shown on the screen but you can’t help but look at Paul. “And the Oscar goes to,..” Jessica begins, “The Whale”. You audibly groan and Flo gives you a strange look and laughs.

“God I know you worked with him but I didn’t know you wanted him to win that much.” She chuckled as she claps. “Did you even see his movie?”

“Of course I did” I reply, “it was amazing. He was very good.” I drastically lowered my volume halfway through because Brendan began his speech. His face, you can’t get it out of your mind. It was only a slight falter when The Whale was called but it was noticeable.

~

You’re standing at the bar of the Vanity Fair Oscars Afterparty, waiting for Florence to come back. You grab your drink off the bar and turn around to look at the crowd, you scan the room hoping to find a familiar face when you see Paul. Standing halfway across the room laughing with a couple people. Then as if sensing her gaze, he looks up. Their eyes meet.

He excuses himself from the group and walks over to you. There’s a beat of silence as you take each other in. He looks a little rougher, more grown, but his eyes are just as sharp. His blue eyes that I wanted to swim in.

“You look…” he breaks the silence, “incredible”.

“Thank you” she blushes, “you don’t look too bad yourself. White looks good on you.”

He chuckles at her compliment, “thanks.”

There’s an awkward silence. He takes a sip of his drink. “Congratulations on your nomination” I say to him, holding up my drink, “I was hoping you’d win. I saw your movie it was amazing Paul.”

“Thank you. That really means a lot, coming from you.” He says, “It’s good to see you. Really good”

I take a sip of my champagne, studying him. I’m about to say something to him when Pedro Pascal walks over to us.

“Paul hey, could I talk to you for a minute?” Pedro asks, then he turns to me “I’m so sorry could I steal him for just a moment?”

I laugh, “Go right ahead.” I pause for a moment and look at Paul, “It was nice talking to you, I’ll see you later.”

Paul nods, “See you later” His gaze lingers on you until Pedro grabs his shoulder and they turn away. You sit alone at the bar, finishing your drink.

Authors note: Hey this is my first time writing in like a long time so be nice. Lmk what yall think & if you want a part 2. Also feel free to request anything! ~rose

[just-some-trans-nobody]

Naga boyfriend head cannons

Gender neutral reader

Warnings:light NSFW, brief mention of kink choking, biting, mentions of eating rodents, snakes

Minors Don't Interact!

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

You are his personal heater I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Your body is warm and he wants that warm. It's a bonus that it comes from you, he loves you.

Ha you have cold hands? So does he don't worry about it.

Oh you have warm hands? Let him hold them. Hold his face in your hands he will melt into them this poor touch starved man.

At the start of the relationship he couldn't stand you touching him. It wasn't that he hated when you touched him oh no no no he absolutely loves when you touch him. He's just scared he's not used to being touched so gently before and he's terrified that he'll hurt you with his large size and not realize it. It doesn't help that once he started to get sexual feelings for you everytime you touched hin turned him on. Your pinkie could have lightly grazed his shoulder and he would hve grown aroused.

Further into the relationship he knows how much you can handle you and will absolutely man handle you. You'll be walking past him and he'll use his tail to swoop you in so he can cuddle you. He still gets turned on real easy but it's more tame now. Doesn't mean he won't be tame when having sex though.

Home boy is kinky will choke you if your also into and biting is a must. If it's agreed too and he's not venomous he'd love to bite you, really sink his fangs in. There will be times you'll be completely wrapped up in his tail will he fucks you.

If you manage to top him he'll be leaning on his own tail draped out on it begging and panting. He didn't know he could be so sensitive before.

Times he's being a grumpy pants he'll snap right out of it if told you'd top him. Instant good mood.

Whenever it gets even slightly cold he's super clingy. Will do grabby hands at you until you set down whatever your working on and come cuddle him.

Owns 700 heating blanket, hope one or both of you have a good paying job cause the electric bill is oit if this world.

Don't insult him by offering to feed him mice or rats thats gross. Guinea pigs have more meat on them any way. Just give him a BLT you weirdo he eats normal foods.

Hates broccoli though. Introduce him to cheesy broccoli and it's a whole new ball park for him.

Will be so confused on why you have a pet reptile, doesn't see the appeal.

Pet snake you say? Your mistake that's your guys child. Will refer to as himself as dad when talking to the snake.

"Now Junior be a good boy for dad and let me change out your water. Junior? Junior please get out of your water... Yes I see you blowing bubbles it's very cute."

The snakes name isn't junior he just keeps calling him junior.

Will get himself a shirt saying number one dad and wear it any time he picks the snake up.

Loves soaking in the tub, join him he'll love it.

He'll wash your hair and die from bliss if you wash his it feels so good.

Shedding is a cranky embarrassing time for him please be patient he's feeling very uncomfortable. If it's early in the relationship he won't want you near him, it's not you it's him he's not comfortable enough to have anyone bear him during this vulnerable time. If it is further into the relationship he'll be more comfortable with you being around him but just don't get to close to him, just be there for emotional support. Now if the relationship is a good amount of years in he'll act all spoiled asking you to peal his shed off for him after he soaked for a few hours at the least. He'll get all whinny and clingy demanding cuddles and snacks.

Bundling in a ball with way to many heated blankets on, this man is a fire hazard. Fire men hate him.

Can't cook for shit. Will order every meal out if you let him. Hates doing the dishes but he's good at vacuuming and dusting. Likes tidying up, not a fan of messes. He'll make sure he does his fair share of the chores and if he sees your having a bad day he'll take on more chores. Will buy your your favorite foods and snacks in hopes of making you feel better.

[babywriter]

You were making yourself a sandwich when a beautiful woman wearing only a shirt and underwear came in. Strangely, her underwear consisted of a very thick purple diaper.

“Hum, excuse me?” you said. Not that you minded beautiful women walking into your house, but strangers are strangers.

“Yes?” she answered.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“Who are you?” you said louder.

“I’m me?” She looked genuinely confused.

“What is your name?” perhaps she was a little slow.

“Jean?” She answered very slowly, as if you were the stupid one.

“Last name?”

“Billings?” You did know a Gene Billings, your roommate, but the thing with your roommate was that he was a man and this was a woman.

“He brought you home last night?” which confused you, because Gene hadn’t gone out last night.

“Who?”

“Gene.”

“I am Jean.” she said.

“Ok, this isn’t leading anywhere. What’s your real name? Where’s Gene?”

“There isn’t any other Jean, I am Jean! Why are you doing this?"

You had enough of this and went to Gene’s room, where he probably was anyway, or so you thought until you opened the door. Because this was definitely not Gene’s room. This was the room of a grown woman. 

“Ah, I get it. Trying some roleplay?” said Jean behind you. “It’s okay, I can do that.” And suddenly her hands were all over your chest. She pushed you towards her bed and unzipped your pants.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I just came in because I was thirsty.” she said.

“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” you said weakly so that she wouldn’t really hear you.

“Oh, mister, it’s so big!” Her every touch was electric. And when she put it in her mouth, your limbs couldn’t help but spasm immediately.

“Mmm.” She said with her mouth full. “Thank you, mister.” She swallowed. “I feel much better now.” She stood up while you were laying on the bed, panting. 

“I just love sucking.” she said while rummaging through her drawers. “It’s great. Bet you loved it too, uh?”

“Yeah.”

“So, now we’re just going to diaper you and get rid of that little manhood of yours and we’ll be done!”

“What?” But it was too late. By the time she said it, a thick white diaper was already getting taped to your bottom.

You felt the effects immediately. Your breasts, thighs and hair were growing while other things were most definitely disappearing. Like your chest hair. After about a minute, you forgot you ever were a man.

“Thanks for the change, Jean.” You said.

“No problem.”

“So, that guy you were talking about?”

“Daddy? Yeah, he said he’d be willing to let BOTH of us do it. We could even move in with him.”

“I don’t want to move in with a guy.” you said. “I’d rather stay single to get ALL the guys.”

“Fair point. Men sure do like girls in diapers, don’t they?"

Photo credit: @littlestkittenxx

For more stories by me:

[nakahras]

᯽ mr. loverman • chuuya nakahara

synopsis • you have a terrible, horrible, no good very bad day and to top it off you can’t even go to the one person you’d want to since he’s out of town. or, at least, you thought so.

warnings • intentional lower case, reader has a nightmare of a roommate, cursing, the use of the pet names doll/baby, chuuya being the gossip he is, fem!reader, nsfw, oral (m -> f), nipple/breast play, some nasty shit is said, masturbation (m), fingering, teasing, slight overstim, idk this is some depraved shit honestly

wc • 4k

a/n • i started this when i was having the worst day ever and just wanted boyfriend chuuya :( i cannot be blamed for the smut idk who wrote that but it wasn’t me

you want to scream — to be more accurate you want to off someone, yourself or someone else, either would suffice. unfortunately you stick to screaming, it would cause you less issues. you lift one of the many pillows on your bed and promptly screech your throat raw into the expensive pillow. your head feels as though it’s going to explode just thinking about how your day has gone.

you thought february 29th was supposed to be a lucky day? an extra day in a leap year meant luck, didn’t it? well in your case it didn’t feel very lucky. not at all, actually. in fact you were sure today was a curse. you woke up late, so, your day was off to a bad start from the beginning. your roommate forgot to pay the electricity bill, again, so you had to take a cold shower and couldn’t even make coffee. you stopped at your favorite coffee shop and not only did they get your order wrong but someone bumped into you on your rush to the train station. there was coffee everywhere. every. where.

thanks to the coffee spill you missed your morning train. which normally wouldn’t be a huge deal, except for the fact that you had an early staff meeting. you try to text your coworker that you were running behind but because your roommate forgot to put the payment in for electricity, your phone didn’t charge and died. you don’t even get your message out. you wanted to cry. luckily the train was early and you made it to work just in time.

you thought maybe you had seen the worst of it. your karma surely couldn’t be that bad, right?

wrong.

you work as a nurse in cardiology. you had not one, not two, but three people code on you. it always came in threes. three emergency services calls. three rounds of performing cpr. three separate incident reports to type out. you were exhausted by the end of the day.

you almost cried again when your favorite coworker offers you a ride home. he was a saint in disguise and you told him so. a literal gift from heaven. you promise him a homemade lunch in return and he waves you off as you climb out of the car. when you get to your apartment you’re pleasantly surprised to see your roommate cleaning. a rare occasion.

the electricity is back on too so you take the opportunity to enjoy a relaxing bath and some wine. you thought, once again, maybe the worst was over.

wrong. again.

when you got out of the bathroom you thought you vaguely heard chatter but chalked it up to a show your roommate was probably watching. you change into a t-shirt, skipping a bra because it’s just you and your roommate at home, and a pair of sleeping shorts that barely cover anything. when you walk out with your headphones on you’re stunned to see 3 strangers in your home.

your roommate looks at you like you’re the crazy one. like she isn’t the one that didn’t warn you about the company. you double check then triple check your phone. nope, not a single text for warning. you awkwardly wave and consider digging a hole and living in it when she introduces one of the strangers as her new boyfriend. in that moment you want to perish, cease from existing altogether.

you don’t even get a chance to grab your food before you’re making a half assed excuse to step away and run back to your room.

you’re now laying on your bed, letting tears of frustration stream down your face. you can’t even call the one person who would make it all better. your boyfriend was away for a business trip. you didn’t want to accidentally interrupt something important. you knew he would drop everything

your boyfriend also has this freaky 6th sense, like he can always tell when you’re thinking of him. so, you’re not surprised when your phone begins to ring and you’re met with his contact photo. you let out a sigh and pick up.

“chuuya…” you breathe out. you sound terrible, you know you do, but you can’t bring yourself to even care to mask it.

you can hear vague rustling in the background before chuuya is speaking. “you don’t sound okay. what’s wrong?”

you start crying again. how does he do that? he always seems to know when you need him most. right now was definitely one of those times. you wish he could actually be there. you missed his warm and safe embrace.

“i’m not. i had a really shitty day and i feel so ridiculous about how much it’s getting to me…” you let out a humorless laugh at how pathetic you feel saying that out loud. you’re throwing a fit over a bad day. who does that?

and all you wanted was for chuuya to be here. but you couldn’t tell him that, if you did he would dismiss everything and come running. then you would feel bad about coming between him and his work. you let out a frustrated sigh.

you can practically hear the frown on chuuya’s face when he speaks. “you wanna tell me ‘bout it? i’ll listen. or is there something else i can do to make you feel better?”

you don’t deserve him. you think to yourself.

moments like this make you really think about how chuuya deserves way more than what you can give him. you go days at a time without talking to him because of school and work. you lock yourself in your room and ignore the world outside just to keep up with your school work. you know it’s unfair to chuuya even if you always do give him a warning. he is always incredibly understanding over it that you almost cry out of guilt. he even brings you meals and hydration packs to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

things like this remind you just how selfish you can be when it comes to him. all you want is him. but are you allowed to even feel like that when he’s away for work — a good reason by the way, much better than your own. he never complains when you need space so why would you? to you the answer is simple, you won’t complain.

of course, chuuya sees it differently. he knows that if you didn’t have to cut everyone off to focus on your work you wouldn’t. but your mind doesn’t work like that and he gets it. does he miss you when you have to take a break from reality? absolutely, but he doesn’t complain because he already knows how bad you feel about it.

so instead of saying ‘yes, i need you’ like you want to you let out another sigh. “how much work do you have left today?”

”funny you ask me that, doll. i finished everything early today.” chuuya chuckles when he can practically see the way you perk up.

you still hesitate when you ask, “does that mean you're coming back to yokohama early?”

the port mafia executive smiles widely at just how adorable he finds you. the way you still get so shy to ask him things that should be a given. chuuya adores you and couldn’t imagine spending his now free time with anyone other than you. so, of course he took the opportunity to get back as soon as possible. apparently his timing was impeccable because from the sound of it, you could use a break.

chuuya was already on his way to your apartment. it was supposed to be a surprise, but he figures since he’s already almost there…

“why don’t you pack a bag and come down to find out for yourself, hm?” he lets out another chuckle when your excited squeal finds it’s way onto his side of the phone.

you quickly grab your small duffle and stuff some essentials into it. you have a drawer at chuuyas jam packed with clothing already and a whole second set of your favorite hygiene products so you only need to grab a few things. you pack your laptop and a couple articles of your comfier clothing. you change quickly, stuffing your legs into some jeans and actually putting on a bra underneath your t-shirt.

you grab your phone where chuuya is still on the line. “okay, all packed. should i come down now?”

“yeah, your surprise should be there any minute.” chuuya pulls up to the front of your building as he says those words and can’t help the pleased smile on his face.

you chuckle and shake your head. “my surprise, huh wonder what it could-“ you’re cut off when your roommate calls out your name questioningly in your rush to get out of the door. your eye twitches when you’re reminded of the randoms in your apartment but put on a smile anyways. “it was so nice meeting you guys, sorry i can’t stay but my boyfriend came back into town early so i’m gonna go see him. bye.”

you don’t miss the way your roommate perks up at the mention of chuuya. “oh? chuuya is here? you should invite him up. i would love to see him.

“i’m sure you would. he’s tired though. maybe some other time.” you grit your teeth and smile sweetly. you don’t wait for a response as you practically run out the door and lock it behind you.

you huff and then remember chuuya is on the other side of the phone still, you grimace realizing he heard the whole thing. “sorry…”

“didn’t know i was so tired.” chuuya laughs as you let out a groan.

you catch the elevator before the doors close from someone just getting out and stab at the button to the ground floor. “i’m tired of their shit, therefore, you’re tired too. plus did you really wanna sit through another awkward meal where my roommate dotes on you. god and her new boyfriend was there. can you imagine how uncomfortable that would be? gross. i don’t wanna think about it anymore.”

“someone’s actually insane enough to agree to date her? condolences to whoever that guy is.” chuuya’s voice drips with genuine surprise.

you let out a giggle at how scandalized your boyfriend sounds. “you’re telling me she doesn’t pique your interest, sunshine?”

he chuckles and you can practically hear the eye roll from his end of the line. “nah, my girl is the only one for me.”

you’re walking out of the elevator when you stop in your tracks for a moment. it doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with him, when chuuya calls you his girl it makes you melt. your brain malfunctions a little and it makes you really think about how you truly are all his.

without hesitation you breathe out an “i love you.” before moving forward to the entrance of your building.

“i love you.” it’s instantaneous, his answer.

chuuya never has to think twice about telling you how much he adores you. he is immutably in love with you. there was no doubt in his mind and, even though it took some time for you to believe so, there was no longer a single doubt in your mind either. chuuya had made certain that you would never question it.

you make it to the entrance. the moment you open the door you’re welcomed with the sight of chuuya leaning against his car. his phone is still up to his ear as his grin widens upon seeing you.

you drop your hand and phone from your ear and hang up before rushing over to the ginger. you drop your duffle bag near the car before jumping into the executive's arms. he was anticipating the impact and caught you with ease.

the bicolor eyed man holds you tightly and you bury your face in his neck. his soft hair tickles your face but you couldn’t care less. you take in a deep breath and his scent envelopes you and all the tension your body had been previously holding completely dissipates.

your voice is muffled when you say, “i missed you, so much.”

“i missed you too.”

you both stand there in each other’s arms for a few more seconds before chuuya sets you down. he grabs your bag from the ground and opens the passenger door for you. you thank him and climb in. your boyfriend wastes no time placing your bag on the backseat and slipping into the drivers side.

the ginger takes you to your favorite take out restaurant and you order all of your favorites. when you get back to his penthouse you set up his couch into a lounge bed and get ready to watch one of your favorite movies. while you’re doing that, chuuya is pouring you both a glass of wine.

you’re happily munching on your food and sipping on your wine when chuuya hits you with. “you should move in.”

your head snaps back to look up at him, your brow is furrowed and you give him a confused look. “we haven’t talked about it before. are you being serious right now?”

“completely.” he doesn’t even look at you, his tone so nonchalant and you’re just gaping at him.

you set your drink and food aside and shift off of chuuya. he’s about to complain until you sit yourself on his lap straddling his waist and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. you pluck the remote from his hand and turn over your shoulder to pause the movie. you wanted to make sure you had his undivided attention (you always did).

you study him for a moment before responding. “are you sure?”

“yes. i have 2 extra rooms that aren’t being used. we don’t have to share a bedroom yet and you would still have a separate office space. c’mon, doll, let me get you out of that nightmare of an apartment.” chuuya reaches up and tucks a stray hair behind your ear.

he did that on purpose. you know he did. the way he caresses your face with his always surprisingly soft fingers is unfair. he knows how distracting it is to you.

you try to process what he says but it takes you quite a bit longer than it should have but it doesn’t take you long to make your decision. “…okay.” it comes out whispered.

“okay?” chuuya asks you incredulously like he was actually expecting you to reject his offer.

you nod your head with a blush creeping up your face. “yes, okay. i’ll move in with you.

chuuya can’t help himself and presses his hands across your back to bring you into him. his lips crash into yours and you share a moment of pure bliss. his lips meld perfectly with yours. he tastes of peppermint and grapes. the taste increases as his tongue slips past your lips and tangles with your own. you let out a short gasp at the sudden intrusion but melt into him anyways.

you both stay like that for a few minutes. your hips begin to stutter on their own. your breaths and gasps and quiet moans fill the atmosphere. chuuya’s hands have found their way under your shirt and he’s already playing with the band of your bra. his fingers expertly undo the clasps and hands glide across your now naked back.

your lungs scream at you. you want more of him but you have to oblige your body’s need for air. you part from his lips and rest your forehead on his own, breath mixing together as you both pant for air.

chuuya only gives you a moment, hips still moving into his when he grabs at your hair and gently pulls your head back so he can trail kisses down your neck. it takes all of his self control to not bite your soft skin. per your request, he’s always careful not to leave marks on areas that would be visible in your scrubs. this is the one instance where his need to please you outweighs his need to be possessive.

if chuuya had it his way, he would make everyone aware of just how much you are his. for your sake, though, he reigns in that side of himself. he supposes he’ll just have to show the world you’re his in different ways. like in the form of a key, and in the form of a ring he has stashed away in the far corners of his closet, and maybe even some day in the form of his child.

chuuya’s brought back to reality by the sound of your voice. he hadn’t even realized that your positions had switched. you were panting underneath him, face flushed, and — fuck — you look so gorgeous like this. you were always beautiful. but having you like this, something only he got to see always made something primal in him stir.

you huff and grab ahold of the ginger’s face. his mind was obviously elsewhere. “chuuya. listen to me. what are you doing?”

chuuya’s eyes, which had glazed over, somewhat clear from the fog. he smiles at you as he lowers himself further down your body and lifts your shirt to press kisses to your stomach. you let out a whine, ready to complain about him still not listening.

“relax, baby, i’m helping you relieve some stress.” chuuya draws soothing circles into your skin then, without waiting for your response his hands travel to your pajama pants to untie them.

your hand shoots out to stop him, still panting and slightly dazed. “what about you?”

“don’t worry about me. i can take care of myself while i take care of you.” he says it so unabashedly you can’t bring yourself to question him.

then your head starts spinning. the thought of him touching himself while taking care of you is so incredibly hot it ignites your entire body on fire. there’s no longer a single thought in your head that doesn’t involve chuuya’s mouth, his lips, his tongue, his hands, his fingers. you need it all.

you reach out and card your fingers through the gravity manipulator’s silky hair. he hums at the action and takes it as his sign to continue. his fingers work quickly, undoing the ribbon and hooking around both the elastic of the pants and your panties. his movements are so fluid and fast you can hardly keep up. your bottom half is completely bare but he’s not satisfied there.

his hand slides up underneath your shirt and through the valley of your breasts. he watches intently as your shirt slowly rides up to expose your breasts. his fingers ghost over each mound briefly before they’re sliding down your body again and gripping at your thighs, holding them open.

“so damn pretty.” chuuya hums and his eyes flit up to gaze up at your flushed face. “do me a favor, baby? play with those perfect tits of yours for me, won’t you?”

his voice is sickly sweet and smooth like honey. you’re so enamored by the sound that you almost don’t hear him. his expectant look is what starts up the wheels in your head to turn. his words process and your hands move on their own accord. you start kneading at your chest while maintaining eye contact with his bicolored eyes.

chuuya groans. “god, doll. look at you. playin’ with yourself like that. ‘s sexy as hell- you’re sexy as hell.”

“chuuya…” you let out a whine. your patience thinning by the second as you wiggle your ass for any chance at friction.

your boyfriend lets out a chuckle. “okay, okay. think i’ve made you wait long enough, hm? deserve a reward for all the hell you were put through today.”

chuuya, once again, doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he’s dipping his head down to get face to face with your already slick cunt. his tongue is quick as he runs it up and down your folds. you feel him sigh in relief against you, like this is the first meal he’s had in days. it might as well be with how much he craved you when he was away.

although, he was focused on you — focused on making this all about you — chuuya knows if he doesn’t make good on his word of relieving himself you’ll never let him hear the end of it. who is he to deny himself the added pleasure when you’re demanding it of him. so, chuuya lets go of one of your thighs to fumble with his belt and free his strained cock from its confines.

you vaguely watch his arm move. your attention wavering as his lips wrap around your clit and he sucks. your back arches and hands squeeze at your breasts in surprise as you moan out his name.

chuuya smirks, absolutely pleased by the reactions he elicits from you. his hand that freed his cock moves to collect some of the wetness that’s steadily dripping out of you. once he’s satisfied with the amount he lowers his hand and uses your slick as lube to touch himself.

you try to comment on it but your mouth isn’t working right. the only thing that comes out is, “chuuya~ so good. ‘s so- fuck- so good…”

chuuya groans, clearly enjoying this as much as you are. his hips start to stutter as he lets go of your other thigh to gather more of your juices in that hand. his mouth it still making expert work of your clit while his fingers are closing in on your entrance. he teases you a little, circling the hole a few times before slowly pushing in two of his lithe fingers.

your head is thrown back as a slew of cursed moans falls from your lips. this time chuuya lets out a moan of his own when he feels your walls fluttering around his fingers already. his hand being used on himself starts pumping faster, his cheeks hollowing more frequently and fingers start sliding in and out of you at an alarming rate.

he’s close, you realize. he’s close and wants you to cum before him. you aid him in his endeavor by rolling your nipples between your fingers then squeezing slightly to pinch them. the added sensation makes your whole body twitch.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck. chuuya, gonna cum~ ‘s too much. gonna-“ a euphoric wave crashes over you and you let out an embarrassing squeal like moan as your vision spots and ears rings.

chuuya’s slurps while lapping up at your orgasm are insanely lewd and the noise alone is enough to send him crashing as well. what really does him in is the sight before him. your eyes rolling back into your head and mouth hanging open. he moans deeply, from his chest, and spills into his hand. he pumps himself a few more times until he’s twitching from the overstimulation.

chuuya laps up every last drop your cunt has to offer while you come down from that amazing high and catch your breath. when he’s happy with his clean up he rests his cheek on your thigh. you prop yourself up to look at him. he looks so angelic, hair slightly tousled from your fingers running through it earlier, face glistening from your juices and face flushed. chuuya smiles at you then turns his head to leave sweet kisses on your inner thigh.

you let your head hang back before groaning. he was going to be the death of you. you knew he wasn’t finished with you by a long shot.

“we have plenty of time to do this when i move in.” you whine.

chuuya lets out an elated laugh. “so, when are we moving you in? tomorrow?”

you let out a genuinely amused laugh, shaking your head at his eagerness.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 7

Part 6

It took Damian the rest of the afternoon to prepare for his trip to Amity Park. Jon helpfully agreed to cover for him, on the promise of a copy of the upcoming Cheese Viking 2 and getting filled in on all the hot Bat gossip afterwards. Wasn’t friendship grand?

Pennyworth thankfully agreed that ‘bonding time’ between the Super Sons was a good use of fall break and even took the time to ‘Prepare some healthy snacks for the young Masters, lest you eat junk food the whole week’. The task also handily distracted the butler while Damian packed the Batwing with all the necessary surveillance equipment he would need and set up the program to spoof his flight data. Damian had no doubt that Father wouldn’t be fooled for long, but with the Bat it was always better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission.

The flight to Illinois was mercifully uneventful. Damian rappelled off in the middle of the eponymous city Park, then instructed the autopilot to take the plane to a wooded area outside city limits and park there in camouflage mode. Once he was sure his arrival had gone undetected, he changed into civvies and with his backpack full of gear set off in the direction of Fenton Works on foot. In jeans, sneakers, a dark hoodie and a baseball cap he looked like any other kid his age, even if he was out after curfew. Damian made sure to stick to the shadows and ducked behind cover whenever a car passed him.

All in all it took him until the early morning hours to arrive at the correct address. Intellectually, he had known the Fentons operated their workshop out of the family home, but he was in no way prepared for the monstrosity of a building that greeted him. Damian couldn’t help but stop and stare in disbelief.

What had once started out as an ordinary brownstone building had a glaring neon sign out front, proudly proclaiming the company name. Perched precariously on the roof was a gigantic metal structure that looked like a cross between a cartoon UFO and an observatory. There was no way this was legal or sane. If something like this had popped up in Gotham it would have been flagged as a Rogue hideout and bugged to hell and back. Hell, Damian was half tempted to break in immediately to start planting cameras but was held back by the likely presence of a custom security system. Mad scientists were rude like that and Damian didn’t want to tip his hand too early. He would have to at least wait until he was sure the Fentons weren’t at home.

Damian tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and strolled past the building at a fake casual pace. The windows were dark and the building was silent, except for the faint hum of the neon sign. This early on a Saturday morning, the residents were likely fast asleep. He spotted an electric scooter chained up next to the stairs leading up to the entrance and made the deduction that it likely belonged to Daniel. Under the guise of retying his shoelaces, he dropped to one knee and surreptitiously attached a bug to the vehicle. Ideally he would get the opportunity to bug Daniel himself, but for now this would have to do. Hoping that no one had noticed him, Damian continued down the street.

He had researched the area ahead of time and had found an apartment a few buildings down and across the street that was advertised as available for rent and was unoccupied. Breaking in and disabling the home alarm was child’s play, and after making sure he was alone in the apartment, Damian settled in to begin his surveillance.

He pulled the handheld radiation detector out of his backpack and after making sure it was operational he slipped it into his pocket. With no way to boost its range he would have to get pretty close to Daniel with no major obstructions in the way in order to verify if he had been in contact with the marked bills he had slipped Phantom. But Damian was confident in his ability to stay undetected. After all, Daniel had no reason to suspect he was being stalked by a curious Bat.

Damian kept himself occupied by listening to the local radio broadcast over his comm. The hosts sounded like chipper twenty-somethings, excitedly shilling for various local events happening over fall break, in-between shilling for local businesses. Why anyone would want to eat at an establishment called the Nasty Burger was beyond Damian. Whenever they stopped nattering to play actual music it was a blessing even if the appeal of the songs was entirely lost on the young vigilante. Finally, at 8am they had an actual news segment. Most of it was covering major US and global events, nothing Damian hadn’t already heard. Elections, natural disasters, rising tensions in Bialya…

“...and in local news, the City Library has announced that clean-up after last week’s ghost attack is finished, and they will be open at their normal hours on Monday!” the female host said cheerily, as if she was talking about the weather. “As usual, we would like to remind our listeners to keep their third eyes peeled for any ghost sightings! In case of a ghost attack, follow standard protocol and head to your nearest ghost shelter. Thank you! And here’s Mark with sports!”

Damian was flabbergasted. Ghost attack? This city experienced supernatural incursions and treated it like it was a normal occurrence? He’d read that the Fentons were ghost hunters, but he hadn’t thought anyone was taking them seriously! If Amity Park was under attack on a regular basis, how come the Justice League didn’t have a file on the city? Surely the news should have leaked to the outside world by now!

It was rare that Damian was caught so utterly wrong footed. His cursory research into Amity Park had turned up nothing like this! He was itching to get back to the Batcomputer to do a deep dive on the city and its history. Unfortunately, all he had on him was his phone which was ill suited for serious data compilation. At best he could scour local news sites and social media for any hint as to what was going on.

After half an hour of fruitless searching, he gave up in disgust. There was no mention of ghosts anywhere, save for the Fentons’ own website. Yet the news report had been almost blasé about the subject! Something was rotten in the State of Illinois.

All he could do for now was stare out the window at the Fenton’s front porch and hope his quarry made an appearance soon.

At 9.13 AM there was finally movement at the Fenton house. A dark-haired teenager in jeans, a light T-shirt, a backpack and a bicycle helmet bounded down the front steps and unlocked the electric scooter. It was unmistakably Daniel.

Damian hurriedly packed away his things, grabbed his backpack and left the apartment. He made sure to rearm the security system and lock the door, leaving no trace of ever having been there. Of course Damian wasn’t about to pursue his target across the rooftops of an unknown city in broad daylight. He would just have to wait for Daniel to arrive at his destination and follow him there. He retrieved his phone and pulled up the tracking data. It looked like the teen was headed towards the city center.

Damian tuned his comm to the listening device he had planted and set off towards downtown Amity at a light jog. For a while, all he heard was background noise. After about ten minutes, Daniel came to a stop.

“Hey Tucker, ready to go?” That had to be Daniel.

“Hey Danny!” a second male voice answered, “I was just waiting for you. Sam says she’ll meet us at the main entrance of the mall.”

“Sweet. Hopefully we can grab something cool from Game’O’Rama if we beat the rush.”

“You said it, my dude. Come on!”

The tracker resumed its movement. Now that he had a destination, Damian used his phone to call a cab. There couldn’t be that many malls in a city this size.

Daniel and his friend ‘Tucker’ kept up a steady stream of idle chatter on their journey. Damian learned more than he ever wanted to know about the attractive qualities of the female students at their high school, the tediousness of the homework assignments they had received for the week and the reviews of recent horror movie releases. Inconsequential chit chat as far as Damian was concerned. Once the pair arrived at their destination they parked their scooters and were soon out of range of the listening device. Damian cut the transmission and spent the rest of the short cab ride trying to find information on Daniel’s companion. Since they were apparently classmates and he had a first name to go on, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to Tucker Foley. Damian made a mental note to investigate him in depth later.

The mall was moderately busy when he arrived but nowhere near as bad as Gotham. Luckily there was a floorplan displayed at the entrance and it didn’t take Damian long to find the Game’O’Rama store. Predictably, it was dedicated to video games, gaming accessories and memorabilia. A sign in the window announced a major weekend sale, likely what had drawn Daniel and his companions. Damian slipped on a pair of mirrored sunglasses to conceal his eyes and meandered into the store. Wandering between the aisles, pretending to examine the games on offer, it didn’t take him long to find his quarry and Damian got his first good look at the trio.

Daniel was almost a head taller than Damian, slightly paler and with his dark hair mussed up from the scooter ride earlier. His clothes were slightly threadbare, and not the kind that was intentional. His white T-shirt bore a faded NASA logo and his jeans were frayed at the cuffs. He had dark circles under his eyes, though not nearly as bad as Drake got when he was on a case. Nonetheless, for the moment he seemed cheerful and at ease. He was examining the back of a disk case.

“I don’t know Tuck, I’m not much for medieval fantasy,” he said amusedly, “and a lot of these monsters look like ghosts we’ve seen. I get enough of them on a day to day basis, I don’t need them in my video games too.”

Again, this talk of ghosts.

The African American male next to Daniel had to be Tucker Foley. He was just a few inches shorter than Daniel, with his hair in shoulder length dreadlocks partially covered by a red beret. A matching red T-shirt with white Atari logo and baggy camo pants screamed nerd even before you got close enough to notice the black rimmed glasses and the clunky looking device he was tapping away on. Where did he get it from, the middle-ages?

“Look, the reviews are pretty great, and if we avoid everything ghost related what’s even left?” the boy argued, “You can’t let ghosts ruin your fun, man.”

“Tucker’s right, Danny.” the third member of their group chimed in. She was dressed head to toe in black, with a sheer, lacy top, a knee-length skirt, fishnet gloves and stockings and a pair of combat boots. With the thick soles giving her added height, she was almost as tall as Daniel. She wore eerily pale foundation making her dark purple lipstick and eyeshadow pop out even more. She had a small nose stud with a matching purple stone. Her earrings were shaped like spiders dangling from a web and she wore a pentagram necklace. Damian knew some of his schoolmates belonged to the goth subculture, but Gotham Academy’s dress code heavily limited such self-expression on campus. He guessed this girl was either really dedicated to the style or really dedicated to pissing off her parents. Maybe both.This had to be ‘Sam’.

“Besides, if Technus couldn’t ruin gaming for us no one else should either!” she continued.

“Fiiiiine,” Daniel sighed, clearly playing up his reluctance. “but if Amity gets attacked by an army of goblins next I reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’!” He double checked the price tag. “Splitsies?”

The girl scoffed and plucked the case from his hand. “I’ll take this one, you can pay for lunch later. Why don’t you two go ahead to Pineapple Republic for those jeans you wanted? I’ll catch up to you.”

“If you’re sure. Thanks Sam!” Daniel leaned over and gave her a peck on the cheek. “I guess we’ll see you there.”

“Yeah, thanks Sam.”

“Go on, shoo!” she laughed and headed over to the cash register as the boys left the store. Making a split second decision, Damian grabbed a random game from the shelf and got in line behind Sam. He leaned slightly towards her, pretending to examine the figurines behind the counter and stealthily stuck a bug to her skirt. Now he could listen in on their conversation without having to risk being noticed.

After paying for his purchase he wandered off in the direction the other teens had taken. He would just have to leave the game somewhere ‘accidentally’ at the earliest opportunity. Pretending to check his phone he tuned his comm to the frequency of the new bug. 

“...I think those are still a little short on you.” Sam said amusedly.

“Man, I’m glad I finally got my growth spurt, but having to replace most of my wardrobe is gonna be a pain in the ass!” Daniel complained.

“Look at it this way Danny, this could be your chance to branch out. A whole new style, a whole new you!” Sam countered enthusiastically.

Damian walked towards the source of the signal. He didn’t follow the trio directly into Pineapple Republic, instead heading into the shoe store across from the clothing store. Browsing there would let him keep an eye on the entrance.

“Let me guess, would this style include black, black and more black?” came Foley’s snarky voice.

“Black is timeless, I’ll have you know,” Sam sniffed in mock offense, “and Danny does look good in it. Just try it?”

“I don’t know Sam, I don’t wanna blow my allowance on clothes that don’t feel like me.”

“Oh! We could always try the thrift store, they have plenty of cool stuff! And upcycling is great for the environment.”

“Uh, hard pass,” came the flat reply, “I would like to survive the year with some of my dignity intact, please.”

“Yeah dude, if Dash and his cronies caught wind of Danny going to Goodwill or something they’d never let him live it down.”

“There is nothing wrong with buying second-hand!”

“Says the girl in $500 guaranteed cruelty free designer boots.” Foley shot back.

“That’s different!” Sam sputtered, “And besides, I don’t see why you still chase the approval of those jerks.”

“Easy guys, settle down,” Daniel said placatingly, “Sam, you know it’s different for us. You might be able to brush off Paulina’s snarky comments, but I can’t just brush off Dash trying to rearrange my face. I’d rather not paint an even bigger target on my back.”

Sam gave a loud sigh. “Ugh, stupid high school politics. I can’t wait to graduate.”

“I dunno, if things go according to plan you’ll have to deal with real politics, Ms Future Administrator of the EPA Manson.” Daniel teased.

“You mean Senator Manson.” Foley chimed in.

“Madam President Manson!”

“Stop it guys!” the girl laughed, “I’ll leave the political ass kissing to someone else. I just want to save the planet! But I gotta get my doctorate first.”

“Well if you do end up having to take over the country to do it, there’s one thing to keep in mind,” Foley said sagely, “You can’t be much worse than President Luthor.”

The two replied with fake gagging noises while Foley just snickered.

“But seriously, since you brought up mixing up my style… I was thinking of getting my ears pierced.” Daniel said hesitantly.

“Really? Ooh, do you want studs? Danglers? An industrial?” Sam gushed excitedly.

“Well… aw nuts.” Daniel’s voice was suddenly tense.

“You know what?” Sam rushed out, equally tense, “I think you should go and try these pants on. In the changing room. Right now.”

Damian frowned. What the hell had happened? He glanced out the shop window but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Suddenly, he heard distant screams and the sound of glass breaking. It’s almost like being back in Gotham.

Part 8

[luvzxr]

Little Pougie

Hello! Hopefully you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am. I noticed a mistake I made in the last with the MC name but it's fixed now!

Thank you to the people who reblogged, it means so much to me that people enjoy my writing and I hope you continue to do so! now onto chapter 3!

Warnings: Mentions of drug use and alcohol, mention of physical abuse, possible smut in the future throughout this book.

Thank you for reading! xx

previous and next chapters

03. Jaw Breaker

JJ Maybank was trying his hardest to hold it together.

He cranked the wrench over and over again, tightening up a bolt on the inside of his bike. He was trying to find things to do to keep himself from going absolutely ballistic, But over time it was becoming increasingly hard to control.

Normally, he would have lost it by now. He would let his emotions get the best of him until that's all left to control him but instead of seeing different emotions; Sad, Happy, Anxious- But the only emotion that ever showed was pure rage.

Unfortunately, anger was the only thing he could ever show.

He was being evicted.

Usually, this situation wouldn't have remotely been something he was worried about since there were numerous occasions he was being thrown out, and then he'd work his magic like he always had and promised the property owner that he'd do some under-the-table work for them and that would help pay the bill.

But they wouldn't take that as payment this time around, unfortunately.

And what he truly felt the need to do was pummel someone's face in. He wanted to grab someone by the back of their head and slam it repeatedly into the ground. He wanted to feel the electricity shock igniting throughout his body, starting from his knuckles and ending up buried deep into someone else's cheekbone. He had nothing but the unkempt rage that he so desperately needed to let out in the form of violence.

He knew that John B would have no problem with taking him in and giving him a place to stay, for JJ was like a brother he never had- but John B didn't know, no one had. And he'd be damned if John B was going to have the opportunity to look at him like a charity case.

He grasped his chest, watching as his free hand shook from the amount of suppressed adrenaline rushing through his body like gasoline. And the longer he stood doing nothing was the exact moment he decided to change that.

He swung around to land the hardest punch he could on the closest firm object around him which just so happened to be the tree.

Two punch, three punch, four. His fifth hit the bark with a loud 'crack.' And with that, he knew he broke something- Was it his knuckles? or his hand? It certainly could of been his middle finger. But he didn't have the time or patience to care.

He turned his body back around and felt it slide down the bark. He glanced down at his fingers, a grimace working its way up his face once he saw the raw skin surrounding them. He used an old, grease-filled rag to wrap up his poor hand temporarily until he could use proper bandages.

Anger and violence were all that JJ knew. It progressively became worse over time. He didn't care what he broke. He didn't care how much blood was shed. He'd hit anything and everything that came into view.

The part he hated the most afterward was that he felt nothing but the antagonizing pain that came with busting his hand. That was the only thing he could feel, for the throbbing aligned with his heartbeat.

And this was the part where he'd crack open can after can until his liver was screaming at him, but at least he would have been way too intoxicated to feel a damn thing.

But he hadn't made that decision because he didn't want to.

A part of him hated himself. scratch that, he did hate himself but the part of him he hated the most was that he resorted to the same things that his own father fell back on, and that made him just as bad. But what should he care? The town had already seen him as the same piece of trash as they did his father.

He heard the rustling of someone approaching. He then began to find the figure to be a very familiar girl he's been trying so hard to avoid recently.

"JJ,"

"What do you want?" he barked, pinching the bridge of his nose before he decided to push himself up off the ground. He saw the person who stood before him was none other than, Kiara Carrera.

"We need to talk dude," Kiara said, approaching closer to him until the only thing separating the two of them was his bike.

"Do we really need to fucking talk right now?" JJ snapped.

"Yes. We do JJ."

"Then talk," He muttered. He loved Kie with every piece he had left of him, and he in a way understood where she was coming from- she just couldn't have been worse with the timing.

"JJ, something happened with us the other night-" She paused, noticing the dulled red cloth wrapped around his hand, "oh my god JJ, what happened?"

"Nothing that I haven't done before," He muttered unhappily.

"What was it this time?" Kiara asked, carefully.

For someone who wasn't born on the South Side of Outer Banks, Kiara Carrera was one of the most compassionate people JJ knew, other than Sophie. It was always one of the most amazing things to him how the girl managed to keep herself together; both around the Pouges and her own family.

"Don't worry about it."

"Please talk to me, JJ"

"What is there to talk about, Kie?"

"Us. What happened between us a few nights ago? It was weird but not a bad weird."

"No. It wasn't a bad weird." He was practically inches away from her now, glancing between her eyes and lips before he pulled himself back, "What are we doing? We shouldn't be doing this. Nah,"

"It would all blow up anyway, y'know. Like, look at you. You got your new Freds on,"

"Nah, y'know. You got parents that live on figure 8," His hand raised, curting in the direction Kiara came from.

"That's not my fault," her voice was soft, almost fragile as if it and her heart would break any minute. But perhaps her heart was already broken.

"You got that," His hands grazing through his hair before wringing his fingers together at the back of his head.

She sighed, "If you need us; we're gonna help you. I'm-" Kiara was on the verge of tears, trying so desperately to hold herself together, "I'll help."

"Kay, that right there!" He swung around, pointing his index finger in her general direction.

help. He's heard that word so many times that it was beginning to sound tedious to him, "okay. like, It's so easy for you to say that. You know why?" His voice began to break.

"Because you're a Kook. You're a Kook Kiara," He spat, referring crudely to the fact she never had to worry about not having somewhere to go or being able to have food on the table. She didn't know the true struggle of life that JJ had been hit with more times than he could count.

"JJ-"

"You wanna help?" He scoffed in disbelief, "Let it go. Because It's never gonna work, Kie."

(Y/n) could hardly keep her eye's open.

Despite the infinite amount of appreciation, (Y/n) had for Kie- she had been the one who got (Y/n/n) the job after all. The Wreck was completely desolated of Pouges, Kooks, and employees alike. Which only bored Sophie, because she couldn't stand how inactive and dead it was.

Actually, disregard that completely. She loved inactivity. Just hated it when she was working a twelve hour shift and had nothing else productive to do with her time.

She had hoped that maybe JJ or even John B would show to keep her company but soon came to realize that probably wasn't going to happen either, which was only more of a bummer. Usually, she'd be working alongside Kiara, and things never got boring. But Kiara hadn't shown up for her shift, which worried (y/n) a bit but neither of Kie's parents seemed too surprised about her absence at the restaurant, for they probably assumed she ditched to hang with JJ or the other Pouges.

She'd never worked this late before. John B would never let her. But (Y/n) had practically begged him and She pulled off the old-fashioned puppy dog eyes to let her pick up a few extra hours. John B couldn't possibly tell her no then- though now, she was slowly beginning to regret her little scheme against her older brother.

(Y/n) watched as it began to get darker with each passing hour and If it hadn't been for the fact that John B always picked her up after her shifts, she probably wouldn't even step foot outside.

She also could always just become a big girl and catch a ride in an Uber- but that required money that she desperately needed in order to help pay the bills, And the fact in general that catching a ride with a complete stranger scared her. Her whole life she was told not to trust strangers or Kooks, but she truly didn't trust anybody she didn't know. So getting into a car with a complete stranger wasn't exactly at the top of her bucket list.

Her shift was nearing the end and she was practically jumping for joy. Her feet felt achy and her eyes felt like ten pounds were added to them just on their own- she couldn't wait to kick off her shoes and crash on the couch watching a dumb cartoon play reruns as background noise while she dozed off.

She heard the single door to the small restaurant sliding open, catching her attention momentarily. She then saw an unfamiliar, masculine figure out of the corner of her eye, hardly being able to ignore it.

"Well, aren't you a pretty little dime."

She hesitated. Did she hear that correctly? Was this strange man talking to her? He had to of been, for she was the only one in the room momentarily which had only made her stomach churn. She was in this room- alone, with this much older man and she had no clue who he was.

He stood in the doorway, momentarily. And at first, it seemed that was as close as he'd ever get but eventually he staggered over- Inching closer and closer, shortening the space between (Y/n) and himself.

(Y/n) tried to disengage, she tried to keep to herself and not give the man even a smidge of attention- for that would probably only make the man stay for a much longer period of time and she certainly didn't want that.

She tried explaining that they were closing and he would have to come back tomorrow or another day but that didn't seem to phase him. He wasn't leaving.

"Come on, sweetheart. I just wanna talk to ya,"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm just a bit busy trying to close up and my ride should be here shortly," She muttered back. She was panicking deep down inside and it only got worse the longer she had to stand and listen to the disgusting pet names. She simply wanted to slam her head face-first into a wall.

She took a few steps back from the man. He was practically breathing down her throat and it was beginning to make her increasingly uncomfortable; more than she already was.

The man made a swift movement, gripping her wrist, "Come on, I just wanna take you back to my place. We don't even have to talk because your pretty little lips would be preoccupied with something els-"

"You're disgusting," (Y/n) interjected, utterly revolted by the words slipping from this man's mouth and the undermining confidence in them. It was as if he personally convinced himself that there was a way of persuading her. It made her stomach churn even more.

"Ooh, look at the pretty girl finally gathering enough courage to speak up when only moments ago she wouldn't even look at me," He smirked. (Y/n)'s cheeks reddened at the way he mocked her; he didn't even know her but knew all the ways to make her feel so little compared to him. The fact he knew just the right things to say to make a girl feel so powerless, quite literally, unnerved her.

Her tone was soft and hesitant, "Please, stop,"

"I've heard those words a million times, love." His face crept closer to hers, and that was when she could smell the overpowering stench of alcohol on his tongue.

(Y/n)'s lips began to purse at his crude statement, the lump in her throat was threatening to choke her. Her heart was racing, and if it had a mind of its own; it probably would of chosen to kill her at this very moment. But at least it would save her from the horrid things this man had cooking up in his own head.

"The things I'm going to do to you, sweethea—"

Before the man could finish his sentence he was being ripped away from (Y/n), his grip on her wrist moments ago was no longer. A loud and elicited groan from the man fell from his lips while he now was being pinned against the brick wall behind him.

A loud yelp was earned by (Y/n). Neither of them was expecting the sudden switch- For as Sophie was expecting to be dragged out of there and all that would be left to find from her was her body; months later in a ditch somewhere.

JJ Maybank was standing before her, practically turning the man against the wall into a mixture of fear and confusion, and a part of him almost wanted to laugh, for it was something worth taking a picture of and framing. The man was trembling in JJ's grasp when moments ago he had ahold of a sweet, Innocent girl the same exact way.

JJ was ready to punch him- he wanted to. He wanted to beat the ever-living hell out of him until the man was begging for his life while laying in a puddle of his own blood. The veins in his arms protruded, his knuckles turning ghost white from the pressure he held with his balled-up fists.

"You want to finish that sentence, man?!"

"What the fuc-" The man's eyes grew frantic, desperately trying to wiggle out of JJ's grasp.

"What were you gonna say? You'd do what exactly to her?!" JJ shouted.

"No- No!- I was just leaving! Let g-"

"You like touching her and girls like her?"

"I- I didn't- I didn't touch her!"

JJ adjusted his grip, shaking the man with a voice of furious resentment.

"Ooh, you didn't touch her? It looked pretty clear to me that you were!" He bellowed, slamming the man harder against the wall, fury coursing through his own veins like wildfire.

This was the side of JJ that he rarely let loose. The side of him where he didn't care anymore, he didn't care how long he'd be in jail or if he'd ever get out cause he caught a case where the murder was what the trial was for. It was terrifying.

He was being blinded by vexation, exasperated to the point he couldn't possibly believe that a pervert like him would be so messed up in the head to even remotely try and touch an innocent girl like (Y/n).

Millions of thoughts ran through JJ's head, each one more crude than the last.

The things I'm going to do to you.

He could feel the man trying to escape him, trying to push JJ off or pull away from his grasp. He could see fear in the man's eyes as his grip only grew tighter against the balled up cloth held in JJ's fists.

Your pretty little lips would be preoccupied.

He wanted to take advantage of her. He wanted to use (Y/n), Innocent (Y/n), one of the only people who would trade her own happiness just so someone else could finally be happy.

I've heard those words a million times, love.

JJ lost it. He couldn't hold himself together anymore.

He retracted his fist, closing up the small amount of space between the man's neck and his forearm before clenching his jaw, pursing his lips, broadening up his stance, and striking the poor guy right across his jaw.

[idy-ll-ique]

IOU.

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x f!reader

genre: angsty angst with happy ending

warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of hospitals, mentions of panic attacks, and also bills. they're scary.

requested: nope

word count: ~4.5k

summary: y/n thinks she owes the ruthless, unforgiving mafia man money. no she does not.

author's note: hiya peeps! till i can muster enough courage to post that part 2... thought i'd post this in the meanwhile. enjoy!

masterlist

-

"New place?"

"Yeah. Really, really, really fucking good coffee. Lady knows what she's doing, for real." Bucky scratched his chin, regarding his friend with his usual cold gaze. "Hm. Fine, I'll try it. For now, go do what I told you to." Bucky sent him off, grabbing his sunglasses off the table. Then he left the room as well and walked out of the mansion, heading to his car. Getting in, he put in the address of the coffee place in his GPS and started the drive there.

But upon reaching, he was immediately greeted by a long line that took up nearly half of the sidewalk. He raised an eyebrow and approached the front of the line. The moment the people in the front saw him, they gasped and moved back, terrified. A loud chatter had already broken out in the crowd as everyone talked about his presence there. Ignoring them all, Bucky opened the door to the coffee place but just as he did, someone grabbed his arm from inside the shop, startling him. It was a woman.

"Sir, the place isn't open yet! You need to wait outside!" she told him sweetly, giving him a smile so precious the mafia boss froze on his spot. "Hey, don't talk to him like that," someone from behind him warned her, "And let go of his arm! Before you get hurt!" Did they really think he would hurt her? Assholes. He watched how her brows furrowed. She let go of his arm, gulping. "Uh, sorry, if you… if I may have overstepped… but we're not open yet! Uh… do you want… to wait inside… maybe?" the lady stammered, glancing at the crowd behind him.

Bucky coolly adjusted his sunglasses. "I don't mind waiting outside. I'll be the first customer." Just as he said it, someone yelled from inside the shop, "Y/N, you can open the door, we're ready!" Bucky unconsciously laughed. Y/N gave him an awkward smile and opened the door, allowing him to follow her to the counter. "So, which coffee would you like to have today?" 

"Black coffee."

"Sugar?"

"No."

"Okay… your name, sir?"

"James."

"James… uh, that will be $7."

Bucky took out a 10 dollar bill from his pocket and handed it to her. She returned his change and gave him another sweet smile. "You may sit, sir, I'll be right with you with your order!" He put the $3 in the tip jar on the counter, making Y/N smile wider. More people walked into the shop as Bucky went to sit. He purposely chose a table that allowed him a clear view of Y/N; instead of looking down at his phone like he always did at places, this time his phone was placed screen-down on the table, his electric blue eyes trained on her. She was taking a couple’s order.

All of a sudden, a different employee called out his name. “Black coffee for James?” the man bellowed, keeping a cup on the counter. When his name was called Y/N and Bucky’s eyes met. She looked away almost immediately, a shy smile on her face as she turned to the next customer. Bucky smiled to himself as well and went to get his coffee. “Uh, man, can I… tell you something?” The mafia boss looked at the guy. “What?” The employee looked at Y/N and chewed his lip. “She’s, uh… she’s—”

“Married? Engaged? Has a boyfriend?”

“No, no, she’s… too naive. Listen, I’m just saying it to warn you, and maybe even her… she’s ridiculously innocent, seriously. I don’t think she has ever had a boyfriend, or even a fling or something. Probably still a, you know, maiden. So… I wouldn’t think you’d want to go for her.” Had he been that obvious? Bucky listened to the man’s nonsense patiently, a cool smile on his face.

“And what, suddenly you know every thought that has ever occurred in my mind? You think you know me enough to tell me about my likes and dislikes?” 

“I’m just saying, bro, me personally—”

“I don’t wanna know.”

With that, he turned around to walk out of the coffee shop. On his way out, he glanced at Y/N again, but she was too busy talking to customers to notice him. He sighed loudly and left. But his sigh caught her attention; she turned to the door but was too late— he was already gone. Her lips pursed. Would he ever visit again? James, he’d said his name was. She had no idea about him, about the fact that he was someone she should steer clear of. Y/N made up her mind; the next time he came to the shop, she was going to talk to him.

-

“You sure you’ll clean up?”

“Yeah. Go.”

“Okay.”

The manager left and Y/N sighed in the empty place, picking up the rag cloth that was hanging on the oven door. But in the quiet store, as she cleaned the counter top, she suddenly heard what sounded like a gunshot. She stood up straight, alert. Her hands were frozen in their place, her ears demanding confirmation. Was it actually a gunshot? When she heard another one, her hair stood on end. Was she going to die?!

Shaking, she rushed to the door and locked it, pulling on it to make sure. Through the glass doors, she looked outside; there was no one there, but she was 100% sure she’d heard gunshots. Her lower lip wobbled. Y/N walked back to the counter and began working at twice the speed; she still had to sweep the floor, and only then could she go home. “Come on, Y/N,” she muttered as she hurriedly finished wiping the countertop. But just as she was about to run to fetch the broom, three consecutive gunshots happened.

Y/N fell to her knees, terrified. This time, she could clearly hear shouting, as well as the screeching of car tyres along with the gunshots. What was going on?! Gang violence?! Scrambling upright, Y/N watched, horrified, as the headlights of a car shone on the glass doors. Oh shit, they’re right outside! Scared beyond words, she rushed towards the backdoors and threw them open. But then they closed with a loud bang, which scared her even more. What if they came inside now?

Her eyes darted around the place and she noticed the broom closet. My only chance. Y/N ran to the broom closet and opened the door, somehow managing to fit inside. Then she closed the door. Pitch black. Y/N took out her phone and dimmed the brightness, her hands clammy. Opening her chat with her manager, she texted him about what was going on. Her heart was pounding in her chest; what if she actually died that night?! 

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, she heard the front door breaking. The sound of glass breaking rang in her ears, and she clutched her head when she got a splitting headache. Y/N was fully panicking by then. More gunshots echoed around the place, this time much closer and much louder than before and Y/N realized that the coffee shop was being used as a place to fight. 

She dared not to make a sound, even going so far as to hold her breath with short intervals in between. 15 minutes would pass before everything went silent; Y/N was very close to passing out now, but she held herself up, waiting until help arrived. After that, she told herself, she could sleep for as long as she wanted. One hand holding her phone, one hand clamped over her mouth, sweat dripping down her whole body, she waited.

When it all went quiet she thought of getting out of the broom closet. But it was as if her legs were rooted on spot, frozen in cement. She couldn’t move an inch of herself. Her eyesight had become poor because of the darkness in the closet, and her headache was steadily bringing her on the verge of fainting. Her ears were buzzing; in the end, she couldn’t even hear the police sirens outside. Slowly, she sank down on her knees and rested her head against the wall behind her, closing her eyes.

“There’s someone else here,” Steve spoke, poking his cheek with his tongue. Bucky looked up from where he was getting a bandage tied on his forearm. “An employee?” Y/N? “Yeah. I mean, the lights were on, and look at this cloth. It’s still wet, and looks like someone was using it. Did they flee the scene or are they still here?” Bucky bit his lip. If it turned out to be Y/N… he was going to burn down the entire world. 

“Go check.”

Steve nodded and opened the doors to the backroom, looking around. There was no one there, but Steve did see another door— the broom closet. Just to be sure, he curiously walked up to the door and opened it. “Fuck!” he involuntarily screamed when Y/N’s unconscious body slumped out of the closet, falling on the floor. “Barnes! The employee is still here!” Steve knelt next to the woman, taking note of the way her phone was clasped in her hand. 

A couple seconds later, Bucky and Sam ran into the room and Bucky froze when he saw Y/N’s body on the floor. And then, every curse word he knew from every language he spoke fell from his lips, rather loudly. Pushing Steve away, Bucky tearfully sat her up, hissing. “Look at her, she’s sweating so much, probably so scared… My poor darling…” He turned to Steve. “Pick her up. I’m taking her home.” Steve and Sam glanced at each other. Even still, Steve did as he was told, picking Y/N up bridal style.

“Sam, call a doctor, pronto.”

Once near their car, Steve opened the door to the backseat and put her in. Sam sat in the passenger seat, talking to a doctor. Bucky sat next to Y/N, allowing her body to rest against his good arm. Steve then got into the driver’s seat and swiftly drove to Bucky’s mansion.

-

Bang. Bang. Bang!

Startled, Y/N gasped in her sleep and jerked. But as she sank down on the mattress, her headache returned and a faint moan escaped past her lips, her brows furrowing. What was going on? There was a mattress underneath her, very soft might she add— was she laying down on a bed? Wait. Was it a hospital bed?! The previous night’s memories replayed in her mind, its load weighing heavier on Y/N’s already feeble mind. 

All of a sudden, the bed dipped on her left, as if someone had just taken a seat. “Y/N?” That was her name. “Mm?” she hummed tiredly, without opening her eyes. “Are you feeling better?” She teared up. “No, I’m scared, I don’t know what’s going on,” she cried, the tears leaking out of her closed eyes as she sobbed, covering her face. Someone’s large hand then went under her head, their other arm around her waist. She was pulled up by the guy and was placed against something; a chest, that man’s chest.

He was holding her. Y/N slumped into him, still crying. Bucky, meanwhile, smiled sadly and held her close, rubbing her back. “Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. You’re unharmed, I guarantee you— hiding in that closet was a good idea. I’m so proud of you. Come on now, baby…” Y/N’s sobs died down, and she finally opened her eyes. She tried pulling away from him but he wouldn’t let go. “I wanna lay down.” He lowered her immediately, and when he sat back up, Y/N gasped, finally seeing his face.

“James?!” Bucky chuckled, caressing her face under the excuse of wiping off her tears. “It’s me. You scared me shitless, Y/N, do you know how long it has been since you passed out?! 48 hours! I mean, please don’t give an old man a heart attack like that again!” Y/N smiled weakly. “Old? How old are you?”

“3 days old.”

This time, she laughed. “How are you only 3 days old?” Bucky smiled, besotted with her. “Because I met you 3 days ago.” Y/N cutely knitted her brows in confusion, until realization dawned on her. Then she blushed furiously, covering her face. “You are so cheesy!” she accused him, pouting. Bucky couldn’t believe she’d made him fall for her in less than a week. “Just for you,” he winked and she groaned.

In the end, she took a deep breath and pushed the blanket off of herself, seeing that she was still dressed in her 3-day-old clothes. “I stink, don’t I?” she wrinkled her nose, sending a sorry smile towards the brunet man. “I mean, kinda,” he played along, snorting when she, very frailly, smacked his arm. He stood up, taking her hand. He helped her stand up. “You can take a bath over there.”

Bucky pointed to the bathroom door. “I’ll leave some clothes outside for you. Once you’re dressed, just open the bedroom door, and I’ll be waiting right outside, okay?” Y/N nodded obediently. Bucky took her to the bathroom, explained all the functions of the bathtub and kept the towel where she could easily access it. “I’ll go now.” He left the room. Y/N discarded her clothes and sat down in the tub, moaning in pleasure. The water was of the perfect temperature.

She took a lengthy bath, and only stepped out half an hour later, a towel wrapped around her. Y/N put on her own undergarments and then the clothes Bucky had provided for her; a black t-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. Once she made sure she was presentable, she moved towards the door but paused when she heard Bucky outside. Her jaw dropped and her hand gripped the doorknob. He was talking to someone outside. “The bill? Ah, yeah, from the hospital. How much was it?” Hospital bill?

Surely that was for… her. She was the one who had been unconscious for 3 days, that meant that a doctor and medicines were required for her. Y/N dreaded the amount— she almost did not want to hear it but she also knew that it would be wrong. How could she let him bear all the expenses for something that was her liability? “$5k? Hm.” Y/N almost fainted for a second time.

“5000 dollars?” she whispered to herself, terrified. But she shook her head, standing up straight. It was her duty to pay him back. Definitely. Taking a deep breath, Y/N opened the door and sent Bucky a smile. He smiled back at her. “Come, have breakfast and then I’ll have someone drop you home.” She wordlessly nodded and followed him downstairs to the dining room. On their way there, Y/N looked around his mansion. It was a piece of art; Bucky was rich? So that meant…

No, no, absolutely not! You have to take responsibility!

They sat at the dining table, breakfast was served and 30 minutes passed. There were a few of his friends eating with them, but Y/N could very quickly make out that they weren’t his friends, more like, they were his subordinates. Working under him. He didn’t say one word to her until the 45 minute mark; then, once all his friends left, he finally looked at her, smiling.

She almost expected him to talk about the hospital bill. “Is it good?” he instead asked, nodding his head towards her plate. Y/N hummed, giving him a small smile. “Y-Yeah, it’s nice.” Breakfast ended. Y/N watched with anticipation as their plates were taken away and Bucky stood up. She followed suit. “I cleared my schedule enough to drop you home, should we leave?” Y/N looked down at her clothes. “Uh, let me just change—” He stopped her. “No, please, don’t wear those stinky clothes again. Carry them with you.” Just then, one of his housekeeping staff entered the dining room holding a bag.

Bucky took the bag and handed it to Y/N. “Here. All your stuff is in here, including your phone.” Y/N peeked into the bag. “I, uh, send me your address so, um, I can return your clothes… I’ll have them washed…” Bucky scoffed, walking around the table to stand in front of her. “Baby, please, stop saying stuff like that. Keep them, it will mean a lot to me. Promise.” Sighing a little, Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I’ll keep them. They are comfortable, you know.” He laughed along.

The two of them walked out of the house. As Bucky drove to her house, Y/N glanced at him. “Um, James, about the… uh…” He glanced at her as well. “Yes, sweetheart? Is something bothering you?” She felt weird asking him about it herself. I’ll just send him the money directly, why have this uncomfortable conversation at all? “Nothing, it’s fine.” Bucky figured something was off but he didn’t push. Soon, they reached Y/N’s apartment building, she bid him farewell and they each went their own ways.

-

“Good morning, sir— James! Hi, you…” Y/N gasped when she saw the man in front of her. He smiled at her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “3 weeks. How are you, sweetheart? All better?” Y/N nodded, blinking. 5000 dollars was a huge amount of money; so far, she had only garnered around $1500. Immediately, she began feeling a little… guilty. His smile didn’t waiver at all, though, so that meant he wasn’t mad at her. Right? What if he was here right now to talk about the money? Y/N gulped, lowering her gaze. “What would you like, sir?” Sir? Bucky’s face dropped. Why was she calling him sir all of a sudden? “Um, are you okay—”

“You’re holding up the line, sir.”

“Black coffee and a blueberry muffin.”

$12.”

He handed her $15 and like he had the previous time, put the extra 3 dollars in the tip jar. When Y/N still avoided his gaze, Bucky was completely sure there was something off. “Can you deliver it to my table instead of calling out my name?” Y/N hummed. “I’ll do that.”

He went to sit in the furthest corner. 10 minutes later, Y/N approached his table and placed his order on the table, turning to leave. But before she could, he grabbed her hand and tugged on it, making her turn towards him. “Mr—” “Absolutely not. James. What’s wrong? What happened? What did I do?” You’re still silent. “I— I need some more time,” she blurted out, “Please, give me, like, another month or so, I beg.” Bucky’s brows furrowed in utter confusion. “Time for what? Honey, time for what?” Y/N angrily glared at him, tears stringing her eyes.

She was never the one to lose her temper so quickly, but to repay Bucky, she had been taking up extra shifts at the coffee shop, which was making her tired and frustrated, and by extension, temperamental. “Just because you’re not asking doesn’t mean— I know you want it back, so don’t play stupid. I’m telling you, another month. Please let go of my hand.” Without even waiting for him, she yanked her arm away and wiped her tears off, storming towards the front of the shop. Bucky was too perplexed to even notice.

Want it back? Want what back? His clothes? Didn’t he already tell her that she could keep them? But then… Why would she require a month to give back a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants? She could have easily done that the next day… It wasn’t his clothes she was talking about. But for the life of him, he couldn’t think of anything else that she owed him. Money was absolutely the last thing on his mind. Sighing despondently, he finished his coffee and muffin and left the shop, without so much as a glance at her.

But Y/N was staring at him as he left. Unconsciously, tears pricked her eyes but she sniffed them away, looking at the customer in front of her. “What would you like?” Her voice was a little watery, which the customer picked up on. “Wasn’t that James Barnes that just left the shop? Don’t tell me he comes after innocent people such as yourself! What did he do to you?!” the customer demanded protectively, which made Y/N confused. If he was excluded from the innocent people category…

“Wh-What do you mean… who is he?”

“Girl, you don’t know James Barnes?! He has been in the news so many times! He’s a mafia man, a mobster boss! Most ruthless, most feared leader of the underworld! How come you don’t know?” What?! “A mafia don?! Are you serious?!” The customer scoffed. “For sure I am! Even the police are scared of him, that’s why he roams the streets freely. To be honest, he only ever goes after the other bad guys, I have never heard him go after, you know, ordinary citizens. But you? What did you do to him?”

“I… I need to pay him back, $5000.” The customer covered his mouth, shocked. “That much?! Girl, do it as fast as you can— is that why he visits the shop frequently? I have seen him a couple times before… wow…” Y/N’s blood ran cold. She owed a mafia leader money. A mafia leader who was known to be ruthless and unforgiving. What if she couldn’t collect enough money? What if he sent one of his friends after her to kill her? After her shift ended, Y/N was once again alone at the shop, cleaning up. But as she sweeped behind the counter, the bell above the door rang, signaling someone’s arrival. 

She looked up and froze when she saw Bucky. “16 hours. For 16 hours I have been thinking about what you owe me, and I haven’t got one clue. Baby, you need to tell me yourself what you think you owe me. Come on. Help me out here.” But as he continued taking steps towards her, she backed herself up against the wall, heart pounding in her chest, fear visible in her eyes. “Please, please don’t— you know— you’re playing dumb!” Bucky froze as well at her look of pure terror.

“Are you scared of me?”

Tears began flowing down her cheeks. “I told you, give me another month, I’ll pay you back, I promise! I have $1500 ready if you’re willing to take installments— but by the end of 30 days I will have the remaining $3500 ready, trust me!” Bucky closed the distance between them. His eyes… showed betrayal. “So… $5k? You’re saying you owe me 5000 fucking dollars?” he whispered. His hands reached up to wipe her tears off, his own starting to fall down his face. “Why do you think that? Have I, even once, asked you about the money myself?”

Slowly, Y/N shook her head. “Then why do you break my heart like this?!” he screamed in her face, startling her. She cried harder. “Because I know now who you are! Surely you want the money back?” He snarled, banging his fist on the wall next to her head. “But why would I want something back from you that you don’t even owe me?! What $5000 are you talking about?!” Y/N sniffled, lowering her gaze. “The hospital bill.” Bucky paused. “Hospital bill? Honey, that wasn’t for you.”

She looked up, confused. “You don’t know what happened that night, do you?” Y/N shook her head again. Bucky sighed, taking a step away from her. “Come with me. Let’s sit.” He took her hand and led them to a table, sitting down. “I… I always assumed you were just passing by and were kind enough to… you know… take care of me.” He wiped his tears off, chuckling. 

Usually, Bucky had a firm handle on his emotions but hearing the woman he loved accuse him of such a heinous thing was enough to make him break down. “No. Now that you know who I really am… that night, the gunfire and the violence that happened involved me, my men, and a rival leader and his men. You were already passed out when the fight ended— I was injured. Look at this.” He shrugged off the right side of his jacket, revealing his forearm that had a faint scar on it.

Y/N gasped softly upon seeing it, her mind filling with worry for his well-being. “Are you okay, now?” He took her hand. “Yes, I’m completely healed. Some of my men got injured as well, and it’s my duty to look after their medical bills as they got injured on my command. It was our hospital bill, sweetheart, not yours. We didn’t call a doctor for you— all you needed was to lay down and wake up comfortably.” Y/N suddenly felt extremely hollow. “I took up extra shifts.”

Bucky came to sit next to her and hugged her close. “You didn’t even think about confirming it with me, first? Angel, when someone owes me money, I make it very clear to them, okay? The fact that I didn’t ask you for a single penny means you don’t owe me shit.” Y/N burrowed closer to him. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into his chest. “I just felt… weird bringing it up. I thought I could just directly send the money over once I had enough.” Bucky hummed. “And even if we had reached that stage, I would have just sent the money back. Thank goodness we nipped it in the bud.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N pulled away from him, rubbing her eyes. Then she looked at Bucky, who was looking at her with a fond expression on his face. “What?” she chuckled. But she was completely caught off-guard when Bucky gently held her chin and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. “Even if we had called the doctors for you,” he whispered, “Even if the hospital bill was yours, you wouldn’t have owed me anything. Why? Because the love of my life will never owe me even a single dollar.” Y/N blinked dumbfoundedly. And then, a deep blush graced her face and she squealed, burying herself back in Bucky’s arms.

“James, don’t say that!”

“Bucky, my dear, call me Bucky. And was what I said wrong in any way? Wasn’t it completely true?”

“Yeah but you don’t have to say it out loud!”

“And forgo seeing this cute little blush on your cheeks? Never.”

“Stop it…”

“Nope. My cute little angel can get into as many accidents as she wants and she still wouldn’t owe—”

“I’m gonna go clean up!”

-

a/n: eeeeee screaming!! thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[bbyquokka]

picture perfect

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut – MDNI

synopsis: you find a way to make more money not realising hyunjin is doing the same

warnings: smut, established relationship, distribution of explicate content (pics) online, sex work (onlyfans), taking videos during explicate moments (everything is consensual), oral sex (m rec), pussy drunk hyunjin, unprotected sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cream pie, pet names, word 'girl' is used.

words: 3.3k ~ (3300)

♡ m.list — ♡ you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

desperate calls calls for desperate measures and that's exactly what you have done.

money is tight. you barely have enough to make ends meet. once you have paid rent, electric and water bills, you have just enough for groceries. 

you soon grew tired of struggling. you don't like asking for help because you've been taught that it's a sign of weakness, plus, having to ask people for money isn't necessarily a smooth nor nice thing to ask for.

your boyfriend, hyunjin, is also in the same boat as you. he left his small town to live in the big city thinking nothing of it, until he realised how expensive it is. you both live on the same apartment block, just across the hallway from one another.

a cliché series of events happened that brought you both together. you've spoken to each other for months but it was nothing but a simple “hello” and small talk in the complex elevator. however, on this one faithful (and unlucky) day, did everything change.

one thing happened after another. a series of unfortunate events. your pay check hadn't come through and you needed that considering you were behind on the rent. luckily for you, the landlord is a kind and understanding person so he gave you some time.

after being on the phone for three hours, listening to the same elevator music whilst being on hold, you got no where, which naturally, lead to your frustration. you decided to just get on with your day, shop for groceries so that's at least one thing you don't have to worry about.

that didn't go as planned.

you went over budget. you didn't realise that the cost of living would also affect the price of food. you had so little groceries for such a high price, food that wouldn't last a week and to top it off, paper bags are now the new thing which you don't mind however, they're flimsy and weak.

on your way home, it started to rain. the rain was heavy, bouncing off the pavement and passing vehicles. you're pretty sure you got splashed by a car or two but you couldn't tell considering your jeans were soaked and sticking to your legs with your socks soaking up all the water from the hole in your beaten down trainers.

you got to the revolving doors of the complex. as if on queue, the flimsy paper bag broke resulting in all your groceries falling onto the pavement. you wanted to cry, to curse at the world for having such a bad day but a knight in shining armour came to your rescue.

hyunjin saw what had happened. he saw how soaked you looked, how your t-shirt was see through, jeans darkened in colour as your hair dripped with water. he looked at your sullen and defeated expression and felt sorry for you. he also felt something else for you, but now was not the right time to be having thoughts, especially when you looked so defeated and desperate for help.

he helped you. he gathered up your groceries and helped you to your apartment door, for you to find out that you lost your apartment keys–somehow. all you could do was laugh because if you didn't laugh, you'd cry.

hyunjin was nothing but helpful to you that day. he let you crash at his place, use his shower and dress in his clothing. you slept on the sofa and helped around the apartment for him such as cooking and cleaning, almost like husband and wife–almost.

since then, you two have been together as well as inseparable. you hate to ask for money. you always feel like you always have bad luck and well, it sucks.

you need money and you need it fast. your dead end job barely pays enough. as well as needing the money, you also want money because you want to buy yourself nice things. fund your little hobbies and dress up in nice clothing. buy what you want, when you want and not have to worry or feel guilty when you spend money on luxuries.

you came across an article about how much someone earns in a month just from subscriptions on onlyfans. after some research you learnt that onlyfans is a place for sexual photos and videos with people paying a subscription fee to ‘unlock’ and see the explicit content.

you thought about it, long and hard. for days and days you thought. the more you thought, the more you wanted to do it. if all you had to do was take a few explicit photos of yourself and not have to worry about money for years, then so be it.

what you didn't bank on, was your boyfriend to find out.

“how did you–?” you blink at hyunjin. his phone facing in your direction. your onlyfans profile staring right back at you. the colour drains from your cheeks, heart thumping against your chest.

it was supposed to be a calm and collective movie night. hyunjin wanted company, he phoned you up and you said yes, of course! you went to use the bathroom and within minutes, you came back to the living area to this.

“i knew it was you! i recognise those breasts anywhere!” hyunjin says with a chuckle as he turns his phone back to himself. his thumb swiping up his screen as he checks out your content.

you blink a few times. confusion as well as a million questions swim around in your head. he's not angry at you and that's confusing you.

“you have to send me this one, damn!” hyunjin groans as he shows you your topless mirror selfie. after a few more blinks, you suddenly come back down to earth. realisation hitting you.

“wait. all my content is locked behind a subscription fee.”

“yeah, i know.”

“so you paid to see my photos??” you say as you sit down on the sofa beside him. he hums, shrugging and giving you a nod. “why? how? are you not mad?”

“i was browsing the site and came across your profile, so i paid the fee to see what spicy content you have.” hyunjin smirks. his whole demeanour throwing you off massively. “plus, why would i be mad when i do the same thing.”

“oh i don't kn–wait, what?” hyunjin's cheeks turn a faint pink colour. he looks at you and grins before laughing at your shocked expression.

“i do it too. would be pretty hypocritical of me to be mad at you for doing what i do.”

“wait so, you also take pictures of yourself too?”

“yeah with the occasional video.”

“what type of videos?” hyunjin puts his phone down before leaning back with his legs spread.

“i jerk off. ”

“and people like that?” hyunjin nods. “more than the pics?”

“depends. everyone has different tastes in what they like.”

“why did you start doing this..?”

“why did you?”

“because i needed the money. my dead end job barely pays enough for this overpriced apartment. once everything is paid for, i barely have enough for myself. i just wanted that bit extra.”

“that's the reason why i started too. i underestimated how expensive living in the city is. now i earn enough to the point where, i don't have to do it. i just do it for fun.”

you look away. everything slowly sinking in. so many thoughts and feelings such as relief, washing over you. you feel close to tears. all those hours you spent awake in bed, feeling shackled with fear–worthless.

“hey.” hyunjin speaks softly, his hand coming into contact with your chin to turn it so you're looking at him “are you ok yn?”

“yeah.. yeah! it's just a lot to take in, that's all.” you laugh softly, leaning into his touch.

“was you worried about me finding out?”

“fuck yeah! stuff like this isn't very appreciated by many people. i was scared you'd judge me or worse; hate me.”

“oh baby. i could never hate you. i love you, plus you do whatever you like. i don't care as long as you're safe.”

“thank you.”

“plus, this just means we can start doing things together. if you want to, that is.”

“you mean as in..?” hyunjin licks his lips and smirks as he slowly nods his head. “like what?”

“well, you can suck my cock for starters. i think that'd be a great introduction video.”

“y-you mean, right now?” you bite your bottom lip gently as hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair, stopping at the back of your head. he gathers a bunch of hair and tugs at the roots causing you to hiss.

“yes, right now. be a good girl and put that mouth of yours to good use.” with a single nod and a hum, you shuffle off the sofa and between hyunjin's legs.

you lick your lips at the sight of his already erect penis that's happily forming a tent in his sweat pants. you grab the waistband, hyunjin lifting up his hips as you pull the fabric down his legs.

you squeeze your thighs together as you press the palm of your hand against his bulge, roughly. you begin to palm him, starting off slow and steady before picking up the pace once you feel him twitch.

all the while, hyunjin has grabbed his phone and started to record you. he makes sure not to get your face into the shot. you slowly trace the outline of his penis with your fingernail, before giving a few rough squeezes at the tip.

“let's not keep the people waiting baby. hurry up.” 

you grab the waistband of his boxer shorts, pulling them down his legs to pool alongside with his sweats. his erection springs free, hyunjin making sure he catches it on camera, releasing a satisfactory hum.

you lick your lips hungrily, loving the red blush on his tip and the shimmer of pre-cum that seeps from his slit. you wrap your hand around the base, his girth too thick for your hand to wrap all the way around. 

“look at that. your hand looks so small wrapped around my thick cock.” he hums. you whimper softly at his dirty talk, something you've never experienced from hyunjin before. it's clear he is playing up to the camera, being a bit extra for the sake of the content–but you love it so much and want more.

hyunjin runs his fingers through your hair slowly, his fingertips massaging your scalp. he pushes the back of your head towards him, stopping when you're eye level with his cock. you rub his tip suddenly with the pad of your thumb, fast and harsh–just the way he likes it.

if hyunjin wants to put on a show, then a show he shall get.

his hips suddenly buck upwards at the harsh rubs. your thumb coating in his pre-cum. hyunjin stutters and legs shake, hand quick to release from your hair to grab your wrist to make you stop.

he heavily pants, a thin sheen of sweat resting on his forehead. you look up at him innocently but give him a quick smirk.

“you cheeky girl.” he grunts. you batter your eyelashes at him in a sickly sweet manor. the innocent, sweet expression on your face making hyunjin want to dirty you and mark you as his territory.

“suck.” you shiver at the harshness of his tone. a dominant tone that screams ‘don't mess with me.’ you nod once, parting your lips to allow your tongue to slide out and make contact with the underside of his shaft.

you give it a long, slow lick to the tip, using the tip of your tongue to poke and lick his slit. pre-cum gathers on your tongue as you flatten and swirl it around his tip.

hyunjin hums softly, spreading his legs wider and sinking into the material of the sofa. his head kicks back as his eyes close, his black permed hair falling behind him.

you wrap your lips around him, suckling on his tip whilst swirling your tongue around it a few more times to get it soaked in your saliva. you lazily stroke the base, occasionally rolling and squeezing his balls.

you embrace his length by engulfing it. the warmth and wetness of your mouth sends shivers down to hyunjin's balls and cock, making him twitch in your mouth. you hum around his length which makes hyunjin shiver and part his lips to let out soft moans and grunts.

your eyes flutter shut. you allow yourself to focus and get lost in pleasuring your boyfriend. his breathy pants and moans in the form of your name encourages you. you manage to get half his length, if not a little more, in your mouth but not without gagging a few times and feeling like you cannot breath.

saliva accumulates and drips from the stretched corners of your mouth. it gathers and pools at the base, coating your hand and making it uncomfortable for you. you swallow the saliva, swallowing him in the process. throat clenching around his thick cock causes hyunjin to gasp out loud. 

he looks down at you, phone still being held at a decent length considering the current state he is in. he grabs a fistful of your hair, bundling it up to yank at. you let out a pained whimper, eyes squeezing shut.

wet, sloppy sounds paired with the occasional pop when you release him from you mouth mixes in the living area. hyunjin can't control his moaning. your spit and tear stained face a stark contrast to your usual innocent and clean look.

he just wants to dirty you even more.

“i can never get over how fucking good you are at giving head, yn.” 

you smirk, giving him a simple hum before engulfing his length again. you suck, lick, fondle and hum causing hyunjin to come closer and closer to the edge. his grip on your hair tightening, his balls straining as heat pools to the pit of his stomach.

“fuck, cum. i'm going to cum yn, shit.” hyunjin splutters. his hips buck up suddenly, tip hitting the back of your throat causing you to gag as his fluids shoot and coat your throat. he heavily pants, body twitching and muscles spasming.

you swallow the best you can, pulling away to lick his tip and your lips clean. 

“shit..” hyunjin pants, stopping the recording and putting his phone down. “that was fucking amazing.”

“seems like you enjoyed it a bit too much hyun.” you smirk, eyes flickering to his still hardened cock.

without a word, hyunjin rises to his feet and picks you up in one swift motion. he walks to the bedroom, opening the door and throwing you on the mattress before stripping himself of his clothing.

“i just want so much more of you yn. you're addictive.”

—

“f-fuck! ah, h-hyun. c-cant, i can't!”

“you can, i know you can!” 

you let out a shaky whimper. bodies slick with sweat and body fluids, hyunjin driving you to your nth orgasm of the night. feeling sticky in cum and juices paired with the suffocating heat of hyunjin's body–it's all becoming a little overwhelming.

your body has been put in various positions. love bites, nail indentations and red marks decorate each others skin. hyunjin is approaching his limit but he's too hungry for you.

the overstimulation of each thrust is too much for you both, but you're both addicted to each other, to the feeling. you desperate cling and claw at hyunjin, whilst he hisses in pain. your cunt is sensitive but so warm and sloppy that hyunjin just doesn't know if he can stop.

“good.. good. so good, fuck yn.” he blabbers as his hips snap against yours. his bottom lip swollen from biting down too much and too hard, his hair slicked back and in place thanks to the sweat from his body.

“please don't stop. keep going, fuck.” you pant. you're both drunk and hazy from lust and love. neither one of you knowing what you're saying. everything is just a daze, it's just you two in the moment.

the bed creaking, sheets tangled and pillows nowhere to be seen. you're both going to have an earful from the neighbours when you see them; not that any of you care.

“your pussy just feels so good. it's so tight and wet. i'm being sucked in and you hold me so well.” 

hyunjin's body is buzzing off adrenaline. he feels like he is being sucked into you, his mind and soul being lost into the abyss. he wants so much more of you, more than you can give. 

hyunjin continues on with his blabbering, his eyes half lidded and glossy. lips parted, chest heaving. his movements show no signs of slowing down as he drives his cock deep inside you multiple times to hit that sweet spot of yours, driving you both closer and closer to the edge.

you babble along with him. hands reaching out from something to cling onto in hopes you come back down to reality–but nothing. with each drive of hyunjin's cock, with each hit of your g-spot, your body tingles and mind numbs over more and more.

the pits of your stomachs on fire, burning and tensing. you look at hyunjin to be met with pleading and desperate eyes. he grips onto your waist, movements now slow, sloppy and desperate. 

“i want.. i need to–” his own sentence interpreted as his orgasm suddenly hits him. you clench around him as he empties himself inside you, filling you up some more to the point where you leak out onto the sheets.

your own orgasm hits you, knocking the air out off your lungs and making you arch you back off the bed. you both heavily pant as hyunjin slowly pulls out off you. you shiver at the feeling of cum and juices seeping out of you.

hyunjin looks at it sheepishly, feeling somewhat guilty. he knows he lost his senses during the process, he got drunk of you.

“sorry..”

“don't be. you know i love it when you're like that.” your body heavy with exhaustion. without a word, hyunjin rushes to the bathroom and grabs a wet flannel. he gently cleans you up, being delicate around your delicate areas as well as any sores, bruises or marks that may seem or look painful on your body.

“how long do you think you will do the onlyfans thing?” hyunjin asks before resting next to you. you think for a second, shrugging before looking at him.

“i don't know. until i get bored and feel like i have enough money, i guess. and you?”

“same. would you want to do it with more people?”

“what? like a threesome?” you smirk.

“yeah.”

“mhm, maybe. depends on who it is though. would have to be a close friend of ours. think it's safer than having a stranger.”

“that's true. plus i'd feel at ease if it was a close friend.”

“i have one question though, baby.” you sit up slowly, hyunjin following suit to help you.

“what is it?”

“would you want it to be man or woman?”

“mhm.. i don't really care if i'm honest babe.”

“same. i'm down for whatever, however, would you be able to manage seeing another person going down on me?”

“when you put it that way, i don't think i would. i think i'd get too jealous.”

“yeah, me too. seeing another person suck on your cock just fuels me with jealousy.” hyunjin let's out a small laugh, kissing your cheeks tenderly.

“maybe threesomes are not for us then, darling.”

“maybe not. let's just stick to posting on onlyfans for a while.”

note: this wasn't my original idea for hyunjin. i wanted to bring back an old fic from the dead but no matter how many scenarios, how many times i deleted and started over, it just didnt/wouldn't work. so i accepted that it wasn't going to work instead of stressing myself over it and created this mess instead, lmao. don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. curious as to what is next? here is my wips list! i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

tags (open): @sstarryoong ; @oshimee ; @septicrebel ; @bbujiikseu ; @cixrosie ; @alyszaen ; @writerracha ; @hyunluvxo ; @aestheticsluut ; @xcookiemonsteer

[rottengurlz]

Audrina Thatcher She/Her ★

She grew up with both of her parents in her life but they could never be around as much as they wanted to be. Her parents were highschool sweethearts who dropped out once they became pregnant with her. Audra is the oldest of 5 kids but she always felt like the actual parent of her household. She still loved her parents more than anything, she cared for them just as she cared for her younger siblings. Once all the kids were in bed Audra was warming dinner for her parents who had to work the late shifts because they paid more. She would have to go to school the next day exhausted, barely being able to stay awake in class. She was the one who picked up her siblings from school and helped them with their homework. She fed them, put them to bed, and each day repeated the same.  

She’s bisexual

She’s 5 foot 8 inches

She smells like Geranium scented soap

She still talks to her 4 other siblings secretly. She has 2 younger brothers named Theodore and Edward and 2 younger sisters named Rosemary and Frances. Their mom purposely named them older names because she thought they sounded smarter. She’s the closest to Theodore and talks to him every day on the phone. He’s the only person she’s been honest about her “ailment”. He was hesitant at first and thought she was losing her mind and stopped talking to her for a while. But eventually he accepted her, but he still sends her recommendations for therapists every month.

When she could still cook her favorite thing to make was Carbonara. It was the first thing she’d make when her family got food stamps at the beginning of the month and they could afford meat. Her siblings called it “fancy spaghetti”.

Her favorite color is cornflower blue

Regardless of how exhausted she was every day she had very good grades in school and was always praised by her teachers. She always wanted to go to parent teacher conferences as a kid to show off to her parents but they never had time. 

She got into college on a scholarship and was planning on getting a degree in business. She was the one who managed her family’s money and all the bills. She hoped those skills that were forced on her could actually get her somewhere in life. 

Audra worked a part time job as a waitress to help her family while she was gone. She found out from her younger brother Theodore that her parents were using the money to gamble. He didn’t want to tell her at first but he found an electricity shut off notice and was scared so he ran to the only person he knew he could trust.

She ended up dropping out of school because she was working too many hours to try and keep up with her parents spending and began failing all her classes. Losing her one chance at changing her life was the final nail in the coffin for Audra. She realized she couldn’t take care of her parents anymore and instead she needed to take care of herself since no one else ever would. She refused to move back in with her parents or give them another cent, once she told her parents that her mother slapped her across the face. That was the last time she ever saw her family.

After shoving her family into her past she did whatever she wanted, she spent her money however, slept with whoever she wanted, went to clubs, made friends, and had fun. For once in her life she was finally free, until she wasn’t.

The day she was turned she woke up in an alley with the stars lighting the sky. She was thrown into a corner, faced down like a piece of trash. She doesn’t remember much from the beginnings of her hunger besides their screams. 

After every feeding it was like she became conscious again, the world became clear, and the screams of her victims would echo through her mind. She remembered the crunch of their bones as she gripped their throat. She remembered the blood sliding down her throat and warming her belly.  She was a monster. She needed to die but she deserved a chance at living more.

She would prowl clubs, bars, casinos, anywhere with pathetic little people who would give up a little blood for a fun time. She would pick up the most desperate person she could find and take them up to a room she made sure they paid for. She would seduce them, fuck them, and then drain just enough blood so she wouldn’t kill them, rob them of everything they had in their pockets, and then kick them out. 

She met a woman named Leona at a casino bar, but Leona was different; her eyes weren’t glazed over like every other addict ruining their lives in her vicinity. She wasn’t oozing with desperation and helplessly trying to hide a wedding ring Audra would just steal anyways. Leona was alluring, her eyes blazed a fire over every inch of Audra’s skin, her plump red lips had a confident smirk like she knew all she would have to do is wave her hand and Audra would crawl right into her lap. 

Audra didn’t fuck Leona, Leona dominated her. She consumed every bit of her, and Audra was happy to give herself up on a platter. The moment the bite came Audra couldn’t stop herself from drinking her dry. Leona’s blood was intoxicating like nothing she had ever tasted before. She was watching the life drain from Leona fast, she was shaky and pale, but she didn’t pull away from her. Instead, her eyes rolled up into her skull and she was desperately pulling Audra closer to her like she was urging her to suck even more. It was like they were stars hurtling towards earth together ready to destroy anything in their path. Leona was special and Audra knew she would never be able to let her go. 

All of her clothes are stolen or bought from stolen credit cards from rich assholes she fucked. She would specially steal from dickheads who had pictures of their families hiding inside their wallets. 

She thought being a vampire could at least give her cool powers like telekinesis or mind control but all she got was a thirst for blood and to look desperately anemic. 

She loved dying her hair as a kid to every cheap hair dye color she could get her hands on. Since turning her hair no longer grows so she buys wigs now whenever she wants to changer her hair.

[theorphicangel]

number two

Waking, you find the right side of your bed empty. Immediately, that brings you reason to categorize your day as a bad one.

Rubbing your eyes, you try to adjust to the low light of the October morning, autumn already bringing sweet chills to your mornings. frowning, you know that this wouldn’t be happening if he was here by your side. Your own personal radiator.

A smile overtakes your frown as you sit up, remembering his threat to make you start paying everytime you cling onto him for heat, as if you weren’t already dealing with payments of your own electric bill.

Hearing the sound of two feet shuffling against the hardware floor, your mood quickly improves on seeing levi enter the room. With his foot, he edges the door open, two cups of steaming tea in his hands.

“I made a cup for you.” he murmurs, biting down on his lip in intense focus on trying not to spill the contents.

“Adorable.” you mutter under your breath, immediately changing the category of this day to good.

Hearing your comment, levi glances up for a second or two, “what was that?”

You shake your head, “nothing.” deciding to keep your teasing under control. Until the clock strikes nine.

“Careful, it’s hot.” levi warns, before cautiously handing you the cup. The heat of your mug almost scolds your palms as you graciously give thanks to him. Levi places his own mug, one that you bought with his own personalized name on it, on the bedside table. Protectively, your hands grip your mug, as he joins you.

A hand snaked around your waist, a cup of his favorite tea in his hand, he has all that he needs to classify this day as a good day.

And so do you.

ways to say I love you masterlist

reblogs are much appreciated!

[paradiseinternet]

I Hate Tony Stark: Chapter Two

pairing: Tony Stark x Soulmate!Reader

word count: 4.5k

triggers: death (mentioned, not detailed), childhood trauma, poverty, out-of-body-experience, swearing.

author's note: hope ya enjoy the update.

also posted on ->

https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/158293111?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_860724604

Chapter Two: Not the Best Birthday Ever

Naturally you were seething with anger. However, this anger only got worse as a second later had you spat out his name, did the very words ink into your skin. There, on the inner part of your left wrist, was the name Tony Stark. Taunting. Laughing. Pointing. You can’t recall if the tattoo had hurt, your boiling hatred was enough of a numbing agent. Something you noticed later was the way it was written. It was not a typical print but instead seemed to follow the characteristics of (what you presumed to be) his handwriting.

            Immediately following the print of his name on your wrist had you felt a light shock of electricity. The kind that told you that it came from the inside, and somehow communicated that the same feeling was sent to him. However, if this is anything like the SIA that you’re familiar with, a name is only printed onto the skin of the one who said the name. As in, he doesn’t know your name because he hasn’t said it, but he knows you know who he is.

            Nevertheless, these events are in the past and when you turned 18 you had a few things that needed to be done. First, you needed to arrange your mother’s funeral because she had recently passed away. Unknown to you, after a soul break the average lifespan of the surviving soulmate is decreased significantly and the survivor only lives for about two more years. Because of this, her health had been deteriorating rapidly resulting in you needing to get a job to help pay for the costs she was no longer able to afford. The government gave your mother a tax-free stipend of $100,000 as reimbursement for the death of your father, but that money was quickly put towards medical bills as your mother started to frequent the hospital as time went on. As bills began to increase, so did the number of hours you put in. It got to the point that you dropped out of high school at 17 to get another job just to afford everything.

            The second thing on your list was to find new accommodation. You had decided that it was necessary to move as far away from Tony Stark as you could; so, New York was going to become your new home. Without a mother or father, nor any social life to speak of, it was high time to change your life and try to start anew.

            Finally, you made a promise to yourself to become better off than what your parents were. If you were to have any children to take care of in the future, you’d make sure they’d never ask for less on any holiday because of a financial burden.

            Your goals were obtainable and within reach, it would just take a bit of time.

            A few months after burying your mother you found yourself stepping out of the airport into New York. Coming prepared, you had already found a small studio apartment that would be called home until something more fitting was found. In the meantime, and one taxi later, you held the keys as you stepped into one of the cheapest rooms you could get your hands on. The floorboards squeaked almost as much as your neighbor’s bed every day late in the evening. The paint was peeling at the edges and bloated in some areas holding what you hoped to be runoff water. As for the ceiling, it was marked with occasional water damage and off-white splotches. This place was not nice, but you came from a life of not-nice things.

            It only took about a week to find a job, then another few days for an additional job. Many occupations required a high school diploma, so a GED was put onto your list of things you needed to do. For now, you were at the bottom of the barrel working as a barista full-time and pizza delivery driver part-time. Again, not ideal but at least you’re alive.

            You’d gotten into a groove of working and sleeping while somehow making time for studying for your GED. Getting the certificate didn’t take much time considering you were already good at school, the long part was just refreshing your memory and dealing with the New York state government. It was when you were about 19 years old had you received your GED, and in the meantime, you also managed to move into a nicer studio apartment in Queens (previously you had been living on the outskirts of New York City, which isn’t exactly known for being the safest). This new location at least didn’t have peeling paint, and no frisky neighbors were an added bonus. Also, since you now had a GED, your employer at the barista job was willing to pay more with the possibility of becoming manager. So now you only need to work one job. Things were looking up! You hadn’t even really thought about your mistake of a soulmate, at least not until you turned 22.

            Being 22 was apparently lucky, at least that was according to your coworker Trish. She was a bit superstitious and tended to become erratic, but otherwise she seemed sane. One day after asking for your age and replying with how you were almost 22, she had a grin grow on her freckled face as her hazel eyes seemed to shine under the coffeehouse ceiling light. Allegedly the numbers 2 and 2 together are incredible special and signify that big dreams were about to come true. Considering you didn’t really have any big dreams, other than hoping for the miracle of sleeping in, you brushed her off.

            Trish’s superstition, however, almost seemed viable when the news station began to release another round of new information. The little box TV was situated in the corner of the coffee bar so that both customers and employees could indulge in the latest information heap. This latest spill seemed to be about, you guessed it, none other than Tony Stark. Your mouth turned sour at the thought of such an evil man. So, he recognized his wrongs and changed his company entirely, so what? Your father is still dead, and no amount of philanthropy (or “hero” work) will change that. But the TV wasn’t discussing the latest scandalous acts of the billionaire, instead announcing his decision to re-instate something called a “Stark Expo” which would begin in roughly a month.

            What made you begin to believe Trish was how the playboy held himself. To the average person he looked fine, but something inside you said he was in pain. He was dying. And so, unsure whether to be uninterested or worried, you chose to ignore the footage they were playing from his announcement. Afterall, if we was dying, that means your days are numbered. You can’t do anything about his soon-to-be demise, and you weren’t planning on trying. Afterall, you ha—

            Wait, what did the news just say?

            “Hey, uh, Trish?” You called out to your sporadic coworker, anxiously adjusting the watch covering the fated soulmate name on your left wrist.

            There wasn’t a response which resulted in you looking towards a customer instead. There in front of you was a man who could’ve been mistaken for Kris Kringle, looking half-attentively at the TV.

            “Excuse me, sir,” you directed at Santa.

            He turned his attention to you and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

            “Do you recall where exactly the Stark Expo will be held?” You asked. “They just said, but I missed it.”

            “Flushing Meadows,” he said softly—perhaps this was old saint nick.

            You nodded in thanks as your mouth went dry.

‘Flushing Medows is in Queens,’ you reminded yourself. Even living in the state for about four years now, it still took time to remember all the subdivisions and boroughs inside New York City.

            No need to panic, this isn’t something you can’t handle. Sure, you live in Queens; but Queens is still large and if you take the day off you should be fine. Besides, when was the last time you stayed home and did nothing? Sounded relaxing to be honest.

            To clarify, this system you’ve worked out isn’t new. If you had gotten wind that the playboy was visiting Queens specifically, you’d effectively take the time off. However, he would typically spend his time in the heart of New York city and Manhattan. So, since he frequented the location so much, it would be expensive for you to take so much time off. Granted, if you had known that the billionaire came to New York so much you would’ve picked a different state, but nothing has happened so far. It’s more cost effective to stay put than move again.

            Typically your boss desired a reason for taking time off, and with your birthday coming up in a month, why not celebrate it this year? Granted, you couldn’t throw a party because you had no one (other than coworkers) to invite. But sometimes the best things are enjoyed individually.

            With the plan formulated, you informed your boss of your actions as everything moved into place.

            Finally, your birthday. As a present to yourself (and an expensive one at that), you had decided to take the whole week off. Might as well, right?

            The actual expo would last the entire year, but you had a hinting suspicion that the man himself would show up some time during the first week of launch—very typical for any orchestrator of events. Even if it was just a hunch, you were not willing to take the risk. Instead, you were huddled up in some blankets and eating ice cream on your second-hand bed/mattress while watching your favorite TV show. Your TV wasn’t anything special, just something you found on the side of the road with the word “FREE” on it. Maybe it was laced with cocaine or had human remains splattered on it, but free is free. Actually, a lot of your possessions were free. Since you rented a studio apartment the living room and bedroom became one, so you had to get creative with decorating. In the center of the room was a small coffee table that was given to you by another coworker who just didn’t want it anymore. Majority of your pots and pans come from the dumpster of a restaurant you pass by every day (that was a good day). Your bed (which currently lacked sheets) was bought from a local thrift shop and pillows from a nearby donation center (technically those are donations to the thrift shop, but it was just out in the open begging to be snatched). Your form of warmth came in the variety of blankets and hoodies gifted to you for holidays and previous birthdays. To save money you keep the apartment at a brisk 60 degrees Fahrenheit, so having many ways to warm yourself up was necessary. Thankfully you lived on the sixth floor, so as heat rises, so does your happiness.

Suddenly in the distance you heard some fireworks go off, most likely a signal to the rest of the city that the expo is live. Uninterested, you continued to binge your show for at least another hour, content with the discounted ice cream you found in the store earlier that day. That was until you heard sirens go by your apartment. This wasn’t unusual . . . except for when several other emergency services were following quickly behind.

Was there a fire nearby?

Glancing out the window you looked to take a glance at any orange light nearby, only to notice there was a lot of noise coming from the direction of the open building that the Stark expo was supposed to be held at. Outside there is what seemed to be tiny, self-driving fireworks almost circling the area of the event. Unable to properly make out what was going on, you deciding to pick up the remote and change channels until you find the news station. When finally getting onto what seemed to be a news report, you quickly discover that the expo was hijacked, rouge military robots were attacking everything (which was not the self-driving fireworks you initially thought), and somehow Iron Man was at the heart of it all.

            “Yeah, fuck that,” you mumbled while getting out of bed.

            Grabbing a backpack, you made the executive decision that you were a little too close to the chaos that followed Tony Stark and perhaps a motel a few miles out would be more suffice.

            Only packing the essentials one would need for a single night, you then made your way outside of the studio and towards the bus stop right across from your apartment. It was already dark outside and so it wasn’t exactly the smartest to be going out, but when facing a possible bump-in with a crook or an encounter with Loverboy, you decided to press your luck.

After hoping on the mostly empty bus, you paid for your fare then rode it for twenty-two stops (the irony). The entire time you tried not to touch anything because who knows what this bus has gone through.

Soon you arrived at something like a Best Western Hotel but if it was a secret brothel. When walking inside you were met with an interior that wasn’t nearly as bad as you thought it would be. When looking up motels nearby in a catalog, this one was cheap but only had two stars. Deep inside you found some humor because your brain formulated the idea of discolored carpet and orange-floral wallpaper, but the lobby wasn’t anything close to that. Instead, there was hard-wood flooring, painted walls, and the occasional house plant.

In front of you was a woman who seemed to not of noticed your entrance. Her hair was frizzly and blonde while her face looked to mirror the makeup style of the 80s. As you walked closer you saw a cigarette between her red lipstick-stained lips. Smoking indoors is most certainly not allowed, but you didn’t exactly look for a 5-star hotel, did you?

After making your presence known you then purchased the cheapest room of the night. The woman was completely uninterested but could at least do her job. In her eyes, she kind of reminded you of yourself—tired and barely getting by. Then again, isn’t that most of the citizens in New York City?

She handed you your key (which was suspiciously sticky) and you made your way up the stairs. Many places have elevators nowadays, but that doesn’t mean these older buildings have the same pleasure. So you made your way up nine stories and by the time you reached the top you were ready to fall over.

Jiggling the key into the keyhole you grasped the handle and pulled back like the lady instructed. Apparently, some of the locks get jammed and this was the only remedy. Like magic the key twisted, and the door opened.

That’s when you laughed. Sure, the lobby didn’t look retro, but this room sure did. The exact thought of discolored carpet and orange-floral wallpaper came to fruition inside this room. In fact, it even smelled ancient. If a chain-smoker had been living here for the past decade you’d believe it.

The bed looked innocent enough (even though you were skeptical of bedbugs), so you laid your backpack on it and pulled out your pajamas. Soon after you found yourself in the bathroom that looked to come straight out of The Shinning. Seriously, it was like a miniature version of the film’s bathing room—which made you uneasy. Spending as little time as possible inside the off-putting room, you took a shower and got your nightgown on. The nightgown was modest and was the color of baby blue. It hugged the cuffs of your wrist and ended mid-calve. Thankfully, you expected the floor to be a little suspicious, so you pulled out the fluffy socks from your backpack and put them on.

At the end of your nightly routine you found yourself sitting at the windowsill of the hotel room, gazing at the general direction of the expo. Your mind was running particularly fast. About what, you hadn’t a clue; it was like your brain was on steroids and you could think of a million better things to do than sleep.

            All things considered; this is actually not the worst birthday you’ve had. Sure, running from your soulmate isn’t exactly a pleasant pastime, but it sure does beat turning 16 only for two weeks later your father to die because of your soulmate . . . then your mother to die because your soulmate killed your father. In the grand scheme of things, life isn’t great but at least you’re not dead. At least, you question how long that’ll last when suddenly multiple large-scale bombs detonated and created an expansion of fire near the Stark expo.

Your view from the ninth story of a non-brothel made your jaw hit the floor in shock. Perhaps your slightly erratic choice of moving further away wasn’t insane, but your intuition.

He’s not dead, you know this for certain because your heart doesn’t ache from a soul break. Instead, you believe your increased heartbeat was due to being so close to something so dangerous. Unsure of what else to do other than gawk, you made your move away from the window. Perhaps the less you knew, the better. Everything that this night has given you can be re-thought in the morning after a night of restful sleep.

            Moving to bed you begin to feel your wrist burn—the one with his name on it.

            His name being on your wrist is rather strange; after all, it signifies that you have not one, but two SIAs. Anyone having more than one isn’t common. The first would be the SIA dubbed “In My Shoes” (not your choice in title, that’s just what the GSRA calls it) and the other is “Say My Name.” The second isn’t too harmful (at least in terms of your purpose of never meeting the man) and was most likely the one given to you at birth or one you inherited from him, but the first one is a reason for concern. You haven’t been living in anxiety because of it, however it does loom in the back of your mind. “In My Shoes” is often systematic but how often it occurs isn’t known until it happens a second time. It’s been six years and there’s a good chance that it is a one-off soul aid, which isn’t unhear of.

            Back on task you began to rub your wrist in hopes of soothing it. It wasn’t even a few seconds of trying to remedy the burn, when suddenly you felt like you were falling. Your eyes closed in an attempt to not only ground yourself, but to get rid of the feeling. Then, as quickly as it would be to blink your eyes, you opened them to something that wasn’t there a moment ago.

It was a woman with blonde hair and a well-matched lipstick to her black pencil dress. She had bangs that stuck slightly to the sweat of her forehead as she used both hands to convey a stress you didn’t understand. By the looks of it, she was talking, but her words only began to have meaning when you decided to tune in.

“—kill yourself or-or-or wreck the whole company!” She had yelled in frustration, continuing her rant with little mind to what you were doing.

Confusion laced your features at the odd word choice as you attempted to figure out what was going on. Did you know this woman? Did she know you?

You felt exhausted, sweaty, and out of breath. You’ve never run a marathon (never had the time), but this must’ve been what it felt like.

Taking in your surroundings you noticed you were on top of a roof. Not just any roof, but one that was a lot closer to the Stark Expo than you were a moment ago. Now you’re even more confused; how can this be possi—oh yeah, right.

Looking down you saw your body covered in a roughed-up red and yellow piece of metal. It certainly didn’t take a genius to figure out that the “In My Shoes” aid had taken affect. Definitely not at a good time, but was there ever a good time?

‘Fuck my life, man,’ you tiredly thought to yourself.

Trying to gather your thoughts you decided it was best too—did she stop talking? Opening your eyes after subconsciously closing them, you saw her looking at you.

Something in your brain shifted in place as you paused then tentatively asked, “Did I say that out loud?”

She nodded.

Yep, not the worst birthday ever, but it might just make it to spot number three.

A moment of silence passed both of you as words were exchanged between the intense eye contact. Then, before she could say anything, a voice to the left of you said, “You’re not Tony.”

The lady seemed to jump in her skin, equally surprised by the new voice on the roof. Looking towards the source of the statement you saw a man wearing a similar iron body of armor sitting on top of something metal. He seemed to look as tired as you felt.

“Uhh . . .” you quietly muttered, trying to formulate some type of a response.

The woman beside you seemed to almost snicker in realization, “Definitely not Tony.”

“He would’ve had something sarcastic to say by now,” the man added, seeming to continue the woman’s train of thought.

Baffled by the ease of flow in conversation between the two people, you tried to rack your brain to figure out who these individuals are. The one sitting down you may’ve seen on the news, but this other lady was only vaguely familiar.

“My name is Pepper Pots, but Pepper is just fine,” the woman introduced herself, seemingly reading your mind.

Ah, there we go, she was that chick who was almost always by Tony’s side (apart from the models that hung on his arms). There was skepticism that she was his secret lover, but other than that bit of gossip, you hadn’t paid much attention. After all, why keep track of someone’s love life when you have no intent in being a part of it?

Out of instinct you reached out your hand to shake hers and replied, “My name is—”

You stopped before you said anything revealing; then, before you could recoil your metal-covered hand, she took it while saying, “Don’t worry about it. You haven’t come for him after all these years, so I think I get the idea.”

A small smile appeared on your face in appreciation for at least one person to understand without knowing the full story. One time someone asked if you had a soulmate. At the time you decided to be truthful and answer with a simple ‘yes’. Then they started to ask more questions, and by that time you were already in deep, so you had to explain that you willingly chose to stay away from him. They got frustrated and almost mad at your choice. Again, you do not hold a popular perspective on how to approach soulmates. It got particularly scary one time when someone caught a vague glimpse of the “Say My Name” aid and felt inclined to ask about it. At this point you had learned from previous encounters, so you would just tell them it was a ‘trick of the light’ and that you don’t have a soulmate.

Early on you learned that convincing others of a lie is easier than admitting the truth.

“I’m curious,” pried the man on the side. He was sarcastically raising his hand (if that analogy was even possible). “Why haven’t you made contact? Tony said he’d given you his address.”

Here it is, the questions. Except this time it’s not going to be as simple as ‘I don’t have a soulmate.’ These people know who Tony is and you are the only one who can do this body exchange.

Pepper chimed in, “I’m also curious. He was so excited about finding out you existed that by the time he got his mind straight, the only thing he could do was write down an address.”

How innocent, this line of questioning. These people seemed so kind, completely contrasting the allies you’d think Tony would’ve made. It almost implored you to give them the whole story, but something inside you said it would be best to just keep it short. The truth didn’t work well in the past, and the less they know, the harder it is to find you.

Licking your lips, you tasted that strong flavor on his tongue again, just like last time. Similarly, it wasn’t great and reminded you of a bad aftertaste that wouldn’t go away. However, now as an adult, you recognized that aftertaste to be some form of liquor. Alcohol never really tickled your fancy, the substance not tasting too great and being an unnecessary cost was enough of an incentive to ward you away.

How depressing, you’ll need to give these two intrigued individuals a condensed version of your store. And if they are his friends, as you suspect they are, they’re going to turn around and tell him the moment you get back into your body. Then again, maybe this is for the best. Perhaps he will get the hint. So, looking up at these people and trying your best to keep a steady tone, you said without a batted breath, “To be honest, I hate Tony Stark.”

Just like that, the water gates have been busted open. You haven’t ever told anyone your opinions of the man, and certainly not with this kind of context. However, without even seeing their reaction, you blinked, and the scenery changed again. This time you stood in the lobby of the motel with the hardwood floor beneath your fuzzy socks. How did he get down all nine flights of stairs so quickly? If he was trying to get outside, he obviously failed, which did comfort you knowing he was unable to spot any street signs. The only downside will be the journey back up.

Glancing around, you saw the frizzy-haired receptionist from before in front of you looking mildly curious about your antics.

“So, is that everything you needed?” She asked with a lack-luster tone.

Confused, you looked at her for a sign as to what she was talking about, only to feel one of your hands holding onto something. Looking down, you saw a rectangular piece of paper which you held up to your face and analyzed.

It was a business card from the motel. The front displayed the company name, phone number, and address. It was then that the printer in your brain began to print out a new message:

This business card has an address and 22 is not a lucky number.