#I absolutely fucking hate having these conversations with them because they always pull the 'we raised you in privilege' card

[butyoudidthis4what]

Would You Believe Me If...

Jack Abbot x F!Reader

3.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CWs: mentions of alcohol; reference to sex; mental health issues; reader is not having a great time; reader doesn't like beer; depression; being sad for no articulable reason; self-hate; ass grab; kissing with tongue; little to no editing/proofreading; Jack being the BEST; hurt/comfort type situation (reader's brain is the hurt, Jack is the comfort)

Summary: Jack sees the sadness you're hiding from everyone and pulls you aside to talk and love on you.

AN: I was sent this ask and inspired to write whatever this is!!!! A short little fluffy comfort fic! I very much agree with that anon that Jack is very much an "On purpose. On purpose I am going to care about you" and "I never loved you on accident?" man. He would see all of you, good and bad, and still love you. I tried to give him that kind of vibe in You're Okay too and we see it here again (I hope, I don't really know what I'm doing anymore). I have absolutely zero fucking clue what the end is or where that came from but here we are friends. ALSO there is a very small Star Wars nod in here since I’m posting on May 4th! Thank you for reading!!

Jack’s eyes find you the second he hears you laugh. 

Quite literally a second because he’s always keeping an eye on you when you’re out together, not controlling or because he cares who you’re with. He just always wants to know where you are relative to him, just in case something happens and he needs to get to you. Military training, he supposes.

His eyes find you because he knows that laugh. It’s not your real laugh. It’s fake, the one you put on when you’re not super present and are hiding your sadness. To anyone else it’s very convincing, they don’t blink at it. 

He narrows his eyes a little to watch you better as you chat with McKay, Samira and Parker. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see your leg bouncing under the picnic table, can see the way you chew on the side of your cheek every so often. 

“You gonna pay attention to this conversation or just stare at your girl all day?” Robby asks Jack. Most of the crew is at a local park for a picnic celebrating Dana’s birthday.

“I’ve been paying attention and heard everything you said. Unlike you I can multitask.” Jack finally lets his eyes leave you as he turns to look back at Robby. Shen and Whitaker stifle laughs. Everyone knows it’s not true and just Jack giving Robby shit. You have to be able to multitask to be a good emergentologist, and Robby is one of the best, Jack’s told him that many times. 

“I agree though,” Jack nods at Robby. “The patient satisfaction scores are bullshit. They should automatically be a ten or whatever the highest thing on the fucking form is if they’re brough in via ambulance and survive.”

“People come in by ambulance for really stupid things that don’t really require us saving them,” Whitaker observes. 

“And people walk in with injuries they really should have come in an ambulance for,” Robby shrugs. “It would even itself out.” 

“Exactly,” Jack nods. He looks back over at you for a second and then stands up. “I’ll be back.”

“Sure you will,” Robby drawls, smirking. 

Jack ignores him as he starts walking over to you. “Hey,” he says to the group as he reaches you, sets his hands on your shoulders from behind and squeezes. You feel a little better already, just from being closer to him. The rest of the group continues chatting as he leans down to speak just to you. “Take a walk with me for a few minutes?”

You furrow your brows, tilt your head and look back a little to see him. “Um, sure. Is there a reason why? Are you sure? It seemed like you guys were having a good conversation.” You flick your head towards Robby, Shen and Whitaker. 

“I’m sure. And does there need to be a reason why I want to take a walk with my girl?” He turns his head a little more and places a soft kiss just below your ear. 

My girl. Even though you’ve been together for a while now it still makes you a little dizzy to hear. 

“No, I guess not.” You give him one of those fake smiles and he knows it’s not because you’re trying to fool him, not really, deep down you know better than to even try by this point, but because you’re in public. Have to keep up appearances. 

“Well I know not, so.” He leans back up and moves his hands from your shoulders. “I’m stealing her for a minute.” He nods at the group. It pulls some smirks but nobody says anything, they all just nod. As you get up Jack finishes off the little bit of cider left in the bottle you were nursing. 

Once you’re up Jack laces his hand with yours and leads you over to the park’s path, walks down it a ways with you in silence before pulling you off it. He walks with you on the grass until you come to a spot where the ground starts to slope down, the top of a little hill that provides a nice view of the sun setting over the city. You’re more than far away enough that nobody can hear or see you.

“What’s up?” You titter a little, clearly a bit nervous. 

Jack nods at the ground and you both sit, feet out in front of you, grass and soil dry from the heat of the day. “You were totally spaced out and not really there.” He eyes you carefully. “You’re back now, for the most part, but I wanted to see what’s up away from everyone.” 

You push your bottom lip out a little and shrug, shake your head. “I’m f-” Jack gives you a look. “I don’t even know why I bother trying,” you mutter. 

“Neither do I. But I get it. Wanting to hide it and not let me see because you know I don’t like seeing you upset. I feel the same.” He squeezes your leg gently and doesn’t press when you’re quiet for a bit as you think of what you want to say. 

“Would you believe me if I said I didn’t know?” you murmur. You already know the answer but you’re using the question as an answer itself.

“Yeah.” Jack pauses and cocks his head at you, catches your eyes and holds your gaze as he speaks. “Would you believe me if I told you it was okay not to know?” He already knows the answer but he’s using the question to tell you it’s okay. 

You let out a breath through your nose and shake your head a little as you look away from him and out at the city, Jack doing the same. “I know it is. Rationally. But the irrational side of my brain doesn’t.”

You see Jack nod out of the corner of your eye. He gives you space to think, sits in the background buzz of the park with you, hand running up and down your thigh to ground you, remind you he’s here. 

“I’m just sad.” You shrug. You aren’t teary, don’t even have the urge to cry at the moment. It’s a hollow sadness. One that just vaguely aches and makes you tired. “There’s no reason for it. Just am.” 

“Would you believe me if I told you that’s okay too?” Again, he knows the answer but uses the question to make the point. 

“Is it though Jack?” You reply quickly. It surprises him, catches him off guard. 

He turns back to study your face, see if he can read what this is from your profile. He has a feeling he knows where this is going. 

“It doesn’t feel okay,” you continue. “Not even for me, but for you. It’s not fair to you. For me to just randomly be sad sometimes and unable to explain why. Because fuck Jack, I just want to sit here and be sad. I just want to sit here and be sad and maybe cry if I can get past whatever fucking emotional brick it is that’s stopping me from doing so. But what I don’t want is for you to have to sit here with me in it.” 

Jack lets your words hang in the air for a few seconds so that you know he’s really listening and taking them in, but not so long that it feels like he’s having to think of a response.

“It is okay. I promise you it is.” As much as he loves eye contact he knows it would be a little too much for you right now so he doesn’t push you to look at him or try to catch your gaze. “And it’s okay for us to just sit here. We can just sit in the sad. I hate seeing you be sad and struggle, yes. But sometimes you just need to sit here and feel it. And I want to be there next to you when you do. You don’t have to be okay and happy all of the time. You’re allowed to just sit here and be sad or whatever emotion you want to be. You don’t constantly have to be working towards being better when you get sad like this. We can stay here for a bit. I’m not going to let you or us unpack and move here, but we can visit sometimes. You can feel whatever it is you need to feel in front of me and with me. I want you to.”  

You let out a shaky breath. You know that what he’s saying is true. At least part of you does. But it’s so hard to accept. 

“And there are very few things in life that I have to do anymore, sweetheart.” He gives your leg a little squeeze before resuming running his hand up and down it. “You’re not holding me hostage or keeping me here against my will. I know I don’t have to sit here with you while you’re sad and don’t know why. I don’t feel like I have to. I choose to. I choose to sit next to you here in the sadness the way you do for me when I want to sit and be sad and not know why. I choose you.” 

“You should choose better.” It’s whispered. “You deserve better.” 

Jack starts shaking his head before you even finish the word better. 

“Yes, Jack, you do,” you say before he can get anything out. “Because you’ve been through so much already. You deserve to be with someone better. Someone easier to love who isn’t constantly putting you through shit like this. I know you love me, Jack, I promise. I never doubt that. But sometimes I don’t understand why you love me. Why you love me when I can be so fucking awful and all over the place and sad randomly for no reason. Do you see that Jack? Do you really see me? What you put yourself through by loving me?” 

Jack’s hand stills and squeezes your thigh again, longer this time, but still at the perfect pressure. He hurts, physically, his heart hurts seeing you like this, hearing your voice and knowing how much you mean what you’re saying. He hates it. He wishes he could take away your pain. But he can’t. All he can do is try to help and try to make you feel a little better and at the very least not let you be alone in it. 

He adjusts his position so that he’s turned toward you a bit more, the side of one of your legs and one of his pressed together. 

“Darling, the way you see and feel about yourself is not the way I see or feel about you. Just like the way I see myself and feel about myself is not the way you see or feel about me. We’re our own worst critics, as fucking cliché as that shit is. And I love you and mean this with all the love in the world, but you’re right. You can be awful at times. But the only person you’re ever awful to is yourself. Like you are right now.” You can feel tears start to form behind your eyes at that. Not because it’s mean and his words have hurt you. Because he’s right and you know it. 

He takes in a deep breath and looks out at the city for a moment before his gaze returns to you. “I don’t put myself through anything by loving you. I’m not burdened by loving you. And of course I see you, I always have,” he says with a heavy conviction. “You think I fell in love with you by accident? Or blindly? With my eyes closed?” 

You swallow thickly, can feel his eyes on you. “No.” Tears sting at your eyes now. “But still. You shouldn’t have to do this with me. I shouldn’t be work. But I am.”  

“Oh honey,” Jack breathes out softly. He takes a second and then shifts, sits a bit further up and grabs your legs, pulls them diagonal a bit and you a little closer so they can rest on top of his and you can look at each other better.   

“I need you to listen to me, yeah? Really listen.” Jack holds your face with his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheekbones for a second while he looks you in the eyes. “Loving you is not the chore that your past has made you think it is.” He squeezes your face a little. “It’s not a chore at all. It’s a fucking privilege.” 

That gets a few tears to slide down your face and Jack’s thumbs are quick to wipe them away.

“And I know you can’t see that, and that you might never be able to see that. But it’s okay, because I do. And I will tell you it over and over and over and over until you understand why Robby tells me nicely to shut the fuck up sometimes.” He gives you the smallest knowing smirk.

You laugh at that, and it’s watery, and through your tears, but it’s real. You love the way he does that. Knows when to instill just enough lightness into this serious of a conversation to keep you grounded and from getting completely overwhelmed, but also knows when it’s not appropriate in a serious conversation. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper through some tears and shrug at him. 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jack whispers back. He leans in and kisses your forehead, lets his lips linger there before pulling them away and resting his forehead against yours.

“You have to repeat this speech a lot.”

“I know.” He says it so matter of fact as he pulls his forehead from yours to look at you better. His hands leave your face and take yours in his, fingers tangling together.

“It makes me feel really bad. Like it’s going to push you away. Or like you’re going to think I don’t trust you or your love or-”

“I don’t think that, nor will I. I understand, baby. I really do. Because I feel the same way sometimes. I don’t care that you need reassurance at times. It doesn’t make me feel like you’re questioning me, or my love, or our love. It doesn’t make me feel like I’m the problem or somehow doing something wrong or not doing enough or anything else. It makes me feel like sometimes your brain’s chemicals get a little fucked up. And you know what? So do mine. I think we’ve had this conversation at least a time or two with the roles reversed. I think you have to repeat a version of the speech I’m giving you right now a lot. And do you care?”

You shake your head gently. “No. I would give you it every day if you needed me to.” 

“Guess what?” he whispers.

“So would you?” You give him a little pout and big doe eyes that show how much you love him and it’s so adorable he has to smile a little.

“Yeah. So would I.”  

He leans back in but this time he gives you a kiss on the lips, lingers just long enough before he breaks it and nuzzles his nose against yours. You keep your eyes closed as he pulls away, a little smile on your face. You open your eyes just in time to see the nearly beaming smile it pulls from Jack. 

The two of you sit there for a few more minutes before you finally turn to look at him. “We should go back.” 

“Yeah?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “We can stay longer.” 

You shake your head. “No, I’m ready.” Jack nods, gently moves your legs off his and stands up before holding both hands out to help you up. 

Instead of taking your hand and starting to walk back though he slips his arms around you, slides his hands in your back pockets and pulls you right up against him by your ass. He raises his eyebrows and smirks a little, a slight bobble of his head when it makes you gasp in surprise. 

His hands leave your pockets and slide up so that they’re wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him. You rest your hands on his chest, look up at him knowing he wants your eye contact. Jack smiles when you give it to him. 

“I see you. I see all of you. Even the parts you don’t want me to see. The parts you’ll never show anyone else. And I did before I fell in love with you. And I still chose to jump head fucking first into being in love with you and even right now, sitting here in the sad with you, I’d make the same choice without a second thought.” One of his hands comes to hold your jaw, thumb on one side of your chin, his other four fingers on the other side, index finger right in front of your ear and the other three just below your ear and on your neck. “I choose you. All of you. Not just the you that you like and think is good enough. I choose all of you because I love all of you and I know that all of you is more than good enough. I choose you and I will always choose you and I know I’m lucky to get to make that choice. I love you.”

Jack kisses you then, hand tightening just a little to hold you still for him. They’re chaste at first but turn deeper, his tongue running over one of your lips, a silent question. You let your hands run up his chest and over his shoulders before sliding your fingers into his hair, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck and open your mouth for him in silent answer, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and taste you, let you taste him. The taste of you pulls a groan from deep in Jack’s chest and you shiver. You only pull back when you’re desperate for air and Jack chases your lips with his. It makes you giggle.

You can feel him smile against your lips as he rests his forehead against yours again.

“Thank you,” you murmur. “And I choose you too. I love you.”

“I know.” You feel him smile a little wider against your lips before he gives you another kiss. 

You bite your lip as he pulls away, let your eyes open back up slowly to his grin. Jack grabs your hand and leads you back towards the path.

It hits you a few steps in. “You taste like cider.”

“Yeah,” Jack nods.

“You don’t like cider. You don’t drink it.”

“Yeah,” Jack shrugs slightly. “But I was drinking beer and you hate the taste of beer. And I knew I was going to kiss you like that so when you got up from the table I finished off your cider so you wouldn’t taste the beer on me.”

You beam up at him and he just smiles, can feel your happiness. He knows it hasn’t made it all better, that you might still be sad overall, that it might linger for a while.

You walk in a comfortable silence for a minute until you break it. 

“They’re going to think we fucked, probably.” You smirk a little at Jack. 

“You wanna play into it?” He’s so unfazed and stoic about it. So Jack. “I can go grab some little twigs to put in your hair, a leaf, some grass.” 

You burst out laughing. Properly. Fully. Real.

“Twigs?!” For some reason him saying the word twigs is hysterical to you. 

“There’s my favorite sound,” Jack laughs with you. “Well, one of them, anyway.” 

“Oh?” You glance up at him as your laughter trails off. 

“You would have been making another one of my favorite sounds if we had in fact fucked,” he says nonchalantly, swinging your hands a little.

“Oh,” you breathe. You can feel the smirk radiating off him. “Do you have more favorite sounds?”

“Course.” You see him nod out of the corner of your eye. “You saying my name. You saying you love me.” He squeezes your hand. “And the sound of your heartbeat when I rest my head on your chest.” 

You bite your lip at that. It’s so sweet it almost makes your heart ache. “Awwwww!” You squeeze his hand and lean into him. “You’re such a romantic, pookie.” 

“Ha!” The pet name catches him by surprise. “No.” Jack shakes his head at it, but his smile gives him away.

“Pookie is cute!”

“Do you understand the actual level of shit I would get from Robby if he ever heard you call me pookie? I’d have to get a new best friend and a new job.” You giggle at him. “You’re laughing but I’m serious.” 

“I’ll go into work with you one day this week and conspire with Myrna to come up with an even better nickname than fruitcake for Robby if you’ll let me call you pookie sometimes.”

Jack stops walking and looks down at you, pretends to eye you up for a second before giving you a little smirk. “Come up with something really good that’ll drive him up a wall and I’ll consider it.”  

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

I'm so sorry but the thought of hearing him say twig just sent me at the time I wrote this. I have no idea why. Anyway, I hope this was okay and you enjoyed and thank you so much for reading!!

You can find my Masterlist here for more Jack! Requests are closed while I catch up, but apparently if you just send in an ask with your thoughts about Jack I may be inspired and write something! I love chatting with you guys and likes/reblogs/replies are super appreciated and motivating!

Tag list: @loveyhoneydovey @love-affair-with-fandoms @mstrsgoodgrl0628 @equallyshaw @kmc1989 @artsymaddie @moonshooter @whiskeyhowlett-writes @smallcarbigwheels @hawkswildfireheart @blackwidownat2814 @yxtkiwiyxt @viridian-dagger @andabuttonnose @beebeechaos @pear-1206 @starkgaryan @travelingmypassion @marvelcasey05 @daydreamingallthetime-world @millenialcatlady @nursejuju86 @escapefromrealitysm @emilia527 @satanxklaus @frazie99 @kastleandmurdock @guardiancardigan @zoctopiii @4rosabellaa @adissapointmentlol @nowandajenn @dantemorenatalie @book-of-roses @redzscare @concentratedconcrete @freshbearbouquetblr @qardasngan @practicalghost @wolviehugh @athena1504 @iamcryingonceagain @acn87 @moonpascal @lostfleurs @beltzboys2015-blog @pouges-world @tinyharrypotterkpopfriend @roseanddaggerlarry @a-stari-night

[silvermoon424]

The way I just argued with my parents about how when people say "eat the rich" and advocate overthrowing billionaires they're not talking about my dad, a sanitation sales manager who makes like 150k a year 😭

Like obviously my family is very comfortable and well-off but I had to remind them that they're not in the same category as CEOs who make 15 million dollars a year. Like please you have so much more in common with the average worker than fucking Elon Musk 😭

[gloomwitchwrites]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSjHFAReU/

This TikTok lit a fire in me ,like just imagine it happening with the 141 and possibly Alejandro 🥲their reactions after they open the lunchbox

141 + Alejandro? Yes, please. Also, I absolutely adore this. I keep imagining reader angrily packing their lunchbox and muttering under their breath but still thinking "goddamn it I love this man" and "this'll show him." Like, we might be upset with them because of the argument but we aren't sacrificing their nutrition over it.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, married life, swearing, arguments, brief suggestive themes, light angst, fluff

Word Count: 2k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if series

John Price

John is alone in his office.

There’s a pile of paperwork on his desk. Files. Photos. Unfinished reports. It’s never-ending, and it’s the least favorite aspect of his job. John would rather be out in the field or back home with you.

But going home feels a bit daunting. The fight the two of you had last night was the worst one, not that there are lots of fights to begin with. With heated words exchanged, the two of you argued until you were both red in the face. You had stormed off, locked yourself away, and then John sat in silence for hours afterwords, staring at the wall.

All of that, and it was his unpacked lunch that broke him. You always pack it with filling food that keeps him going on the days that he’s not in the field and just sitting behind a desk. He loves the notes you leave inside, and how you always prank something in his meal that makes him chuckle.

But right now, all he can do is stare at the container before him, knowing there’s nothing inside it except what he packed himself last night.

“Damn it all,” he mutters, slowly tugging on the zipper, knowing it’s better to just face the measly meal than ignore it.

Yet as he opens up the container and glances inside, John finds something odd. Everything he packed last night is gone. In its place is what he’s always come to expect.

Disbelief spreads as John removes container after container, opening each one in turn. How did you manage it? How did he not sense you getting out or even returning to bed in the night? How did he not hear you in the kitchen?

John leans back in his chair, staring at the spread before him.

Where’s the note?

Grabbing the bag, John checks, and finds nothing. He even opens up each food storage container, trying everything to see if you’ve tampered with it. And still, everything is fine.

Reaching for his phone, John opens his messages, and there—right there—is one from you.

Sorry. Forgot to pack a note. Love you.

John sighs heavily, tapping the phone against his forehead. All this stress, all this worry, and you still care about him.

Thank you, he texts back. I love you, too.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“I’m done talking about this.”

Johnny shakes his head, grabbing your upper arm to pull you back into the conversation. “And I’m not.”

You roll your eyes, but Johnny ignores the attitude. Whenever the two of you argue, it’s mostly frivolous nonsense that ends with the two of you fucking until the both of you are too exhausted to care about whatever you were arguing over in the first place.

This is not that sort of argument. The both of you are far too heated for this to devolve into rough kissing and even rougher sex.

“I know you’re angry,” replies Johnny. “But—”

“Let go, John.”

Johnny cringes on hearing his government name. You never call him John unless you’re looking to draw blood.

He releases your arm and steps away. “Fine. But this isn’t over. I’m not going to let this go. We have to talk about it.”

“And we will,” you sigh. “But I can’t—I can’t think. I need…space. Just…space.”

Johnny watches you walk away and hates every second of it. The feeling only worsens when he glances over and notices his empty lunch pail. You always prep it for him, making sure he’s fed. He likes that you do it. Makes him happy every time he opens it up on his lunch break.

But you’re raging mad, and it’s late.

Johnny is on his own.

With reluctance in every step and movement, Johnny fills the pail with all sorts of junk. It’s all snack food, but he hardly cares. If he has to, he’ll grab something while on break. When he’s done, he heads into the bedroom, pausing in the doorway.

You’re already in bed, covers pulled up over your head.

Johnny frowns but he doesn’t bother you, and when he finally rolls into bed, sleep alludes him for a solid hour before seizing him.

The morning isn’t much better. You’re still submerged under the covers and unresponsive. Johnny dresses for work in silence, grabs his lunch he packed in silence, and leaves the house in silence. He can’t even bring himself to turn on the radio or listen to his favorite music. Part of him is empty.

The day drags at the construction site, and when he finally—finally sits down to eat, he doesn’t want to open up his lunch pail and see the pathic meal he packed for himself.

“Fuck,” he mutters while pulling on the zipper and flipping the lid.

Johnny blinks, staring down at the food before him. Gone is the prepackaged snacks and junk food. There’s a homecooked meal in here along with several snacks, fresh fruit, and veggies. On top of it all is a small handwritten note on heart-shaped pink paper.

I’m mad at you but I won’t let you starve.

He didn’t even hear you get up in the night.

Johnny’s eyes sting, and when he blinks to chase away a few tears, he realizes how stuffy his nose has become.

“Fuck,” he mutters, opening up the container of strawberries.

You’ve cut them into heart shapes.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon has been a grump all day.

Doesn’t matter that he wears a balaclava, and no one can see his face. He hasn’t cracked a single smile once. Any question asked is responded to with a grunt, and if he must speak at all, it’s nothing more than a one-word answer.

He’s not in the mood. His mind is elsewhere. All he can focus on is the fight the two of you had last night. Fights are rare but they’re always fierce, and you never back down during an argument. For Simon, it’s simultaneously attractive and frustrating.

“Up to trade anything, Lt?” Johnny saddles up to Simon, peering over his shoulder at his lunch pail.

The rest of the team teases him endlessly about the fact that you always pack Simon a lunch. They call it cute—domestic. But they’re also jealous. Johnny is always trying to barter and trade with him, and Simon always refuses.

Until today.

There is absolutely fucking nothing in his lunch pail except a protein bar and a bag of crisps. Simon packed his lunch last night while you went to bed after verbally chewing his head off. This time, Simon is willing to trade the whole thing, but he’s too proud to spend money on picking something up. He’d rather starve.

“Maybe,” answers Simon as he unzips the lid. “What you offering?”

Johnny’s eyebrows rise slightly. Simon never shares. Never.

Simon flips the lid over but doesn’t look.

Johnny leans forward, eyes widening. He whistles lowly. “Damn, Lt. Wifey hooked you up today.”

Frowning, Simon glances down and finds—not the lunch he packed himself—but one you packed for him.

“Changed my mind,” mumbles Simon, closing the lid and pushing the lunch pail away from Johnny’s reach.

“Changed your—” But Simon is already walking away, intending to enjoy his meal in peace. “Oi! Lt!”

Argument aside, you still got up early and put this together while he slept. For the first time today, Simon smiles.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle holds onto the lunch pail like a lifeline.

It’s such a silly hesitation. He already knows what he’ll find inside. He packed the damn thing.

Cup-o-Ramen. Plain crisps. An apple.

I don’t want to talk to you right now, Kyle.

Leave me alone. Give me some fucking space.

Even now the resentment and anger still lingers on Kyle’s tongue. For all the years you’ve been together, arguments have been few and far between. And even when there is a fight, the two of you talk it out until a solution is found. Neither of you like going to bed angry.

But last night was an atomic bomb. An explosion of dissent.

You broke off to the bedroom, slamming the door, and locking it behind you. Kyle ended up sleeping on the couch with nothing but a decorative pillow and a throw blanket that hardly covered his body.

After all the yelling, after all the back-and-forth and then your sudden disappearance, Kyle was left with two realities. One, you were pissed at him, and nothing was resolved. Two, you didn’t pack his lunch.

It’s the one thing Kyle loves most about working, knowing that you’ve put together something healthy and filling. The cute notes aren’t so bad either. But there was zero possibility that you’d pack him anything after that argument, so Kyle set to it, dumping stuff into the lunch pail before falling asleep on the sofa.

And now, here he is, sitting down for lunch and dreading the choices he made last night.

“Better get to it,” he sighs, tugging on the zipper.

When he flips the lid over, he’s momentarily stunned. Gone is the Cup-o-Ramen and plain crisps. The apple is still there, but it’s sliced and in its own container with some chocolate spread on the side of dipping. You’ve replaced it all with sealed containers. Pasta. A salad with homemade dressing.

And on top of it all, a sticky note.

I’m mad but I love you.

Kyle’s trepidation vanishes. He chuckles as he picks the note up and presses it to his lips.

Everything is fine.

Everything will be okay.

Bonus: Alejandro Vargas

When you and Alejandro fight, it’s explosive.

If something doesn’t break from being thrown, it breaks because you and him were fucking like animals on it.

Last night wasn’t a simple disagreement. You threw a shoe at him, and when Alejandro knocked it out of the air and kept going, you threw a pillow, and then attempted to throw the lamp. All in vain. He had yanked the lamp out of your hand, had it back on the end table, and tossed you onto the bed in a matter of seconds.

It was just pure need after that. All carnal lust.

After all the energy and anger vanished, Alejandro was left staring up at the ceiling as you dozed beside him. Nothing was resolved. Nothing was fixed.

And when he woke up late and rushed out the door, he didn’t even think about that fact that you hadn’t packed his lunch. Alejandro grabbed the container, brought it with him out of pure fucking habit.

Not, it stares back at him, and he doesn’t know if he should even open it. Not like you got up in the night and packed it. Alejandro would have woken up if you had crawled out of bed in the middle of the night and returned much later.

No. No.

He won’t find anything in here. Nothing. A shame really. He’s going to have to convince someone to go out and grab something for him, or hope someone brought something to drop off in the break room.

Alejandro swears under his breath and then opens the damned lid.

He expects nothing, and yet, it’s not empty. For a second, everything freezes, and then Alejandro isn’t sure if he should laugh or cry. Inside is easily enough food for two. You’ve packed it to the brim, and as he explores, he even finds your homemade tortillas.

“Is this an apology?” he asks out loud, as if you’ll pop into appearance and answer.

There isn’t any note, and there isn’t a single message from you on his phone. Either you’re waving a white flag, or you’re still angry, but not angry enough to allow him to go hungry.

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@fern-reads @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @glassgulls @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@voids-universe @iloveslasher @talooolaaloolla @sadlonelybagel @haven-1307

@itsberrydreemurstuff @z-wantstowrite @keiva1000 @littlemisscriesherselftosleep @blackhawkfanatic

@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[mywritersmind]

LOOKING GOOD - LN4

summary : fewtrell!reader <3 her brother leaves her alone with lando for less than five minutes and she manages to make her childhood friend blush.

listen up : no warnings!! a small blurb to get me back into writing bc i stopped for a day and am now lost.

word count : 634

⋆｡‧˚⋆

My brother doesn’t usually annoy me this much, but today he’s really making me angry. He said we would have a brother-sister day (aka we go out for lunch and shit talk while he pays) but I’m standing in a studio instead.

He’s talking to Lando who’s having photos done for a new LN4 drop or something. I check my phone again but am soon looking up again when I realize Lando and Max are now standing in front of me

“I’m gonna go change!” he throws me a hoodie, “I told you i’d get you free shit!” Max walks away as I eye the hoodie.

It’s the same dark green that Lando has on, but mine has a 4 on the chest and various little patches on the arms. I raise a brow at him but he talks first.

“Thought you’d like that one. You look good wearing my number.” I suck in a breath at his flirtatious tone. He’s got a mischievous smirk painted on his face as I rest my hands on the jacket.

“Did you do this to make up for not having the frat boy life you were destined for?” His smile doesn’t falter, just sits down next to me and rests his arm around the back of my chair.

“Sorry I've stolen Max away, today.” I can feel his fingers tap against the chair.

I sigh and shrug, “I get it. Best friend over his loving, stunning, iconic, caring, younger sister.”

Lando laughs a bit, turning his head away. When he does, it makes me realize I haven’t heard him laugh in a while. In fact, I haven’t seen him for months.

His tan is the same which is ridiculous and I fight the urge to ask him if he spray tans. But as my eyes catch on his hair, I swallow.

His curls are defined and cut into a mullet. I’ve always thought I hated them until I saw Lando’s haircut. He’s got his usual bracelets on and when I’m looking at them I get distracted by his hands.

Sometimes it’s really hard to ignore the fact that this man is the same absolute nerd I grew up with. He and my brother used to terrorize me and now Lando’s words are more teasing if anything.

I know he likes the way we talk because everytime I see him, he willingly starts a conversation with me even though I take every chance to bully him.

He blinks and my gaze is pulled back to my lashes, then his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. They’ve always been my favorite part of Lando’s appearance. Is that weird?

You could argue that they’re brown in the dark, but as soon as the sun hits you realize that they’re not specifically one thing.

Right now they look green as ever, the color in his hoodie bringing it out. I don’t realize he’s looking at me until he blinks again.

“Look,” Lando sighs, “If you’re gonna make a jab at how I have my name embroidered on my hoodie-” I let out a small scoff and he stops. “What?”

“I was gonna say you look really good.” I say simply as his jaw basically drops.

I think I've finally found a way to silence Lando Norris, and get his cheeks pink.

Max walks back in, his new Lando swag on display as I stand.

“I’m gonna wait in the car.” I smile at him and as I walk past my brother, I look back to Lando. “Thanks for the hoodie, Norris.”

He’s watching me walk away, a confused look still on his face. I bring my hand up and wiggle my fingers at him. I hear my brother start to yap loudly as the corner of Lando’s mouth quirks.

[queenshelby]

After the Oscars (One Shot)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

This is just a quick smutty one shot dedicated to this picture, noting that I have two more coming, which are also dedicated to this picture!!!!

Accompanying your much older famous boyfriend to the Oscars was one of those things that made you both nervous and excited.  Excited because, well, it was the fucking Oscars. Nervous because you were only in your twenties and he was almost fifty, and you were still trying to figure out how the hell you'd ended up on his arm.

But here you were, in a floor-length, black gown that hugged your curves just right, walking out of the large theatre with Cillian Murphy. 

You felt like a princess, except the princess was just as likely to swear and make a crass joke as she was to curtsy. You loved that about him—the way he was so effortlessly himself, even in the most glamorous circumstances.

Like right now, as you walked into the after-party, he leaned in and whispered, "You know what? I think the real winners tonight are the folks who get to see you in this dress."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "Flatterer."

He chuckled, low and deep. "Only speaking the truth."

The room was a whirlwind of champagne, laughter, and famous faces. You navigated it with Cillian, your hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. He introduced you to people—directors, actors, musicians—and it was absolutely overwhelming not only for you, but also for him.

He hated these kinds of events but he was a professional and made sure to show his best face to the world, at least for a little while.

Women always approached him, fawning over his latest movie and making not-so-subtle hints at their availability. He would smile, thank them, and then subtly introduce you into the conversation.

"And this is... my fiancee," he would say, leaving the rest unsaid.

You would smile, shake hands, and then make some witty remark that would make him laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners and, as the night wore on, the both of you eventually managed to slip away from the crowd and head back to your hotel suite.

"Finally," he sighed, locking the door behind you before slouched down  onto the plush armchair in the center of the room. "I thought we'd never make it out of there alive."

You laughed, kicking off your heels and walking over to the minibar. "You could have said something, and we could have left much earlier than we did," you said as Cillian watched you move, his eyes never leaving yours as you poured two glasses of champagne. 

"We had to stay," he  said, running a hand through his hair. "It's part of the job. But now, we're here."

"And here is much better," you agreed, handing him a glass before taking a sip of your own. The bubbles tickled your nose, and you grinned.

Cillian took a sip, looking you up and down. "You know, you could have just said you wanted to leave. I'd have found a way to make it happen."

You raised an eyebrow. "And have everyone whispering about how I'm the clingy, jealous young girlfriend who couldn't handle the attention her fiance was getting?"

He chuckled. "I could have given them something else to whisper about."

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, but you kept your voice steady. "Like what?"

He set his glass down on the side table and patted his lap. "Come here and I'll show you."

You hesitated, but only for a moment. Then, you walked over to him, set your own glass down, and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"You're not wearing any underwear," he said, his voice low and husky.

You grinned.

"No , I'm not," you confirmed, feeling a thrill at the way his hands gripped your waist just a little bit tighter.

"Why not?" he asked, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"I thought it might be... inconvenient," you said, leaning in to nip at his lower lip.

He groaned, low in his throat, and his hands moved to cup your ass, pulling you even closer. You could feel him, hard and ready, through the thin fabric of your dress.

"You know you look so fucking sexy in a suit," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. 

He chuckled, low and dark, before capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if remembering what you felt like. You moaned into his mouth, grinding against him, desperate for more friction.

"And I really want you to keep it on while I have a little play with your cock," you  whispered against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

Cillian's breath hitched, and he licked his lips. "Fuck, you are being naughty tonight, aren't you?" he said, his voice thick with desire.

You smirked. "Only for you."

He groaned again, deeper this time, and you could feel the vibrations through your body. You shifted slightly, enough to reach down and unbuckle his belt, then undid his pants, freeing him.

You gasped at the sight of him, hard and ready, and you couldn't help but lick your lips again before you slid down on to the floor in your dress , kneeling between his legs. You loved the way he looked, all rumpled and desperate, his eyes locked onto you.

"You're killing me, you know that?" he growled, his hands fisting in the cushions on either side of him.

You smiled, a slow, wicked curve of your lips. "I do know that," you chuckled as you leaned in, your breath hot on him as you teased the tip of him with your tongue. He twitched under your touch, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, and you smiled, your eyes never leaving his as you took him into your mouth, inch by inch. He was hot and hard, and you swirled your tongue around him, tasting him, teasing him.

"Christ, you're amazing," he muttered, his hips bucking slightly. You reached up, gripping his thighs to steady yourself, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants.

You sucked him deeper, your head bobbing in rhythm, your tongue working him over. He moaned, his hips moving with you now, meeting your movements.

"That's it, baby," he whispered, his voice rough with need. "Just like that."

You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, the weight of his desire, and it only spurred you on. You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and he let out a low groan that vibrated through him and into you.

"Fuck, you're so good at that," he said, his hands now in your hair, not guiding, just holding on. You loved that he let you take control, that he trusted you with his pleasure.

You pulled back slightly, your lips popping off him with a soft sound.

"You like that, don't you?" You teased, looking up at him from under your lashes.

Cillian's eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short gasps. "You know I do," he said, his voice raw.

You smiled and took him back into your mouth, this time sliding him deeper, until he hit the back of your throat. You relaxed, breathing through your nose, and took him even deeper.

"Fuck," he swore, his hips jerking. "You're taking me so fucking deep," he groaned and you hummed in response, the vibration sending shivers through him.

You kept him there, deep in your throat, for a few seconds before pulling back, your lips glistening.

"You taste so good," you murmured, your voice husky with desire.

Cillian's breath hitched, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. "And you look so fucking sexy right now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "With your lips wrapped around me, your eyes looking up at me..."

You smiled, a slow, wicked curve of your lips, before taking him back into your mouth. This time, you set a slower pace, drawing it out, teasing him.

You wanted to taste every inch of him, to hear every moan, to feel every twitch of his hips. You swirled your tongue around the tip, catching the bead of precum that had formed there, before sliding him back into your mouth.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips bucking slightly. 

You hummed in agreement, the vibration sending another shiver through him. You could feel the tension building in his body, could hear it in the way his breathing was growing more ragged. You knew he was close.

You pulled back slightly, just the tip of him in your mouth, before taking him deep again.

You repeated the motion, slow and steady, your hand cupping his balls, gently massaging. You could feel him getting closer, could taste the change in his precum.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he groaned, his hips moving in time with your bobbing head. 

You smiled around him, your eyes watering slightly, but you didn't stop. You wanted to taste him, wanted to feel him come apart in your mouth. You increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in sync, and Cillian's breaths became ragged, his moans louder.

You could feel his body tense, his hips thrusting gently into your mouth.

"Fuck, you're going to make me cum. I am so fucking close," he panted, his voice barely recognizable.

You hummed in response, the vibration sending more shivers through him. You looked up at him, his eyes were closed, his head thrown back against the chair, a picture of pure pleasure.

You took him deeper, your hand tightening around the base of his shaft, your mouth working the rest. You could feel him throbbing, could taste his release was imminent.

You increased your suction, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock, and that was all it took.

Cillian let out a low, guttural moan, his body tensing as he came, his release filling your mouth. You swallowed, your throat working as you took every last drop. You pulled back slowly, your lips popping off him with a soft sound, a string of saliva connecting the two of you until it broke.

Cillian's breaths were ragged, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and awe.

"Fuck, baby. That was... incredible."

You smirked, wiping the corner of your mouth with your finger before sucking on it, a playful, sexy gesture. "I aim to please," you said, your voice husky with satisfaction.

He chuckled, low and deep, before reaching down and helping you to your feet. He pulled you in for a passionate kiss, his hands roaming your body, exploring every curve as if he was seeing you for the first time.

"You're amazing," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with sincerity. "So fucking amazing."

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09 @hagarsays @kikimurphys @strangeobsessed

[vroomvroomwee]

Don't get me wrong I love the fics/comics of Alastor being forced on a date with Vox (either because he needs something, has lost a bet, made a deal etc. wtv the reason) and he's suffering the entire time because Vox could not be any less impressive.

BUT

I haven't once seen a fic with the same plot, only Alastor doesn't want to go out with Vox because the date will be abysmal, but because he KNOWS he'll have the BEST time.

Think about it, we know they were friends before the "sad and complicated" falling out, which means Alastor (who barely stands men in general) must have enjoyed Vox's company so much that he allowed him in his close circle of friends, so close he actually let him take a picture. And no one can convince me that Vox doesn't know Alastor like the back of his hand.

They've spent years together, Vox would absolutely know what Alastor likes and what he doesn't. He would make the date as good as possible if only to irritate Alastor in a "this is what we could have had you fucking idiot" or a "admit that you missed me fool". He will buy him the biggest bouquet of roses imaginable, he will take him to his favorite restaurant in cannibal town (yes, his stalker ass knows which one Alastor’s favorite is), he will intentionally choose topics of conversation he knows Alastor is interested in and avoid any he isn't (*cough cough* modern tech), he puts on that charming gentlemanly attitude Alastor always falls for, he will get that man drunk off his ass and will pull him to the dance floor like he's done countless times before. He KNOWS what to do to make him happy, he's done it for years. The entire night is like one nostalgic walk in the park, it barely takes any effort from Vox. And besides, Vox's entire shtick is ingratiating himself to people and telling them exactly what they want to hear.

And Alastor HAAATES it.

He HATES how pleasant Vox's company is and no matter how hard he's tried to forget their past friendship, he gets swept right back up. No amount of denial or masking his enjoyment can hide it. He doesn't want to go on that date because he doesn't want to forget why they're enemies, he doesn't want to slide all of that pent up resentment under the rug and simply forgive and forget.

(This entire thing is made so much funnier if it's witnessed from a third person's perspective eg. Charlie. This girl is watching Alastor moping and complaining about having to go with the "ridiculous, inane picturebox" on a date like it's the worst thing that's ever happened to him and *proceed twelve hours later*, Alastor and Vox barge through the hotel doors drunk, bloody, missing several pieces of clothing, clutching onto each other for dear life looking like they've had several near death experiences, with the biggest, brightest smiles on both of their faces while they laugh their asses off.(they probably committed mass genocide))

[poetsblvd]

LOVER BOY ꪆৎ MV1

He grunts pushing open the door to the holiday home he’s rented for both of you, arms laden with heavy bags from his shopping spree for you.

Hermès, Cartier, Chanel, Van Cleef, APM Monaco, you name it he’s got it.

He drops the purchases on the couch and sighs, fuck he’s definitely going to have to make another trip down for the rest of the bags.

Many wouldn’t think of him to be the type to spoil his girlfriend, and while he takes great offence to that statement he somewhat understands where they come from.

He hasn’t quite had long or serious enough relationships for him to grow attached to and dote on his girl, but it’s very different with you.

He’s the first guy you’ve ever been with, at ripe age of twenty-two now and having only dated him for a year, he thinks it incredibly important to spoil you.

You’re everything to him, and he wants you to know exactly how a beautiful, kind and loving woman like you should be treated.

Because god forbid anything ever happen to peel you away from him, he wants you to know that you deserve only the best, because you are the best there is.

And it’s not only materialistic spoiling, oh no no no, you have to be treated well from absolutely all angles.

Including very bare minimum actions that make you feel special, holding the door open for you, never letting you walk on the dangerous side of the road, getting you flowers every week, always listening and giving you his full attention and input during conversations, etc etc.

He doesn’t get to do this nearly as often with both of you living in different countries and having extremely busy work schedules.

So the chances that he does get to spoil you with all he has, he snatches the opportunity greedily like a toddler with candy.

Today was supposed very normal day of vacation, the first week of summer break that you and Max were very lucky to spend together in St Tropez.

Waking up in the morning however and kissing your face silly, he deemed you too beautiful to not have a day for yourself, a very general excuse to simply spoil you and make you happy.

So with a few texts here and there, he dropped you off at the spa to rejuvenate, relax and pamper up for a cute little date night.

Without letting it drop that he was going to buy you a gift, or a hundred.

Bringing him to where he is now.

He arranges the bags neatly in the living room, running back to the driveway and pulling out the final gifts, a stunning Versace gown and your favourite Manolo Blahnik heels for the dinner he has planned.

He runs back in just in time for your cab to roll through, as you smile and wave to the driver.

He struggles for a moment, wondering how to position himself casually, should he lie down? No that’s weird.

Lean on the door? Far too Troy Bolton for him.

Position himself sexily on the presents? Absolutely not you’d laugh too hard and never let him live it down.

“Maaaaax! I’m hoome!” Your greeting has him smiling and he finds himself making long strides to pull you into his arms.

“Hello my love.” He breathes in the flowery scent of your perfume and the softness of your skin. “You look stunning, how do you feel?”

He finds himself momentarily in awe of your smile and nods, impressed when you shove your hands in front of his face showing him the nails you’d decided upon.

“They’re very pretty baby, I really like the blue flowers on them!” He winks at you, pulling your nails closer to his face.

“Really? I’m so glad! The lady over there kept telling me that I should do ombré, and I didn’t know how to tell her that I really hated designs like that, so we finally agreed on— Max!” You gasp, stopping in between your story telling.

“What?” He shrugs innocently.

You gape at the living room filled with shopping bags of varying sizes and colours, shock marring your face. “Oh Max, again?”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean again?”

“I mean, you practically bought me the entirety of Hermès a few months ago? Why on earth would you spend so much money on me again?”

“Five months ago darling!” He leads you to the sofa, kissing your knuckles, and handing you a tiffany blue box.

“I’ve been slacking! And what do you mean on you? What else would I ever spend my money on? it’s yours anyways, everything of mine is yours, especially me.” He settles down cross legged by your feet and keeps pulling boxes and bags towards you.

Placing a hand on his cheek you smile “You really don’t have to do this, I’ve told you so many times I just want you.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want too.” He grips your hand on his cheek and kisses your fingertips.

“I love you.”

“I know, I love you more.” He smiles, squeezing your knee and nodding at you to open your presents.

“Now come on! Gimme a fashion show, I planned this with just enough time before our dinner. I got you these new shoes, oh! And a dress for tonight, but you’re gonna have to choose between this tennis necklace or this Juste un Clou necklace, I liked both so I got you both.”

⋆⭒˚.⋆

love note , ugh this made me feel very single and think of very unreal expectations from men!! thank you for requesting and i hope you liked this <3

[eden-writes-stuff]

Tags: smut, NSFW, spoken consent, virginity loss, virgin Remus, anal sex, oral sex, drunk sex

"Truth or dare?", Sirius asked. "Truth", Remus decided. "Uh... Who was your first time?" "That's a stupid question." "No, it's not."

Remus looked around the room, biting down on his lip. "I... I didn't have a first time." "What is that supposed to mean?" "Bloody hell, it means that I've never had sex." "But you have a girlfriend!" "I had. We broke up last week. And we... just never got there"

For a moment no one knew what to say. "Why are you all being so weird about it? There is absolutely nothing wrong about not having had sex at 17", Lily finally said. Remus simply shrugged. "Whatever. Don't worry, Lil. I think I'm going to bed. Unlike some of you, I would like to study tomorrow." And with that, he disappeared up the stairs and into their dorm.

All eyes shifted to Sirius, who looked back in disbelief. "What? I didn't know that. Why is everyone blaming me?" Mary lifted an eyebrow. With a sigh, Sirius gave in. This wasn't worth making the girls angry. He survived their wrath once; he doubted he would survive it again. "Fine, I'll apologize."

So, Sirius trotted up the stairs, slower than usual, unsure of what to do. He honestly hadn't wanted to hurt Moony, but was it really his fault? Carefully he knocked on the door. "Who is it?", Remus answered after a long moment. "I'm Sirius" "Bullshit. Sirius is never serious." With a sigh and a simple flick of his wand, Remus opened the door.

Sirius poked his head through the opening and grinned innocently. "I wouldn't say never, but very rarely... You okay?" Remus shrugged. "Do you want an apology?" "For what?" Sirius looked down at his shoes. He liked those shoes. Black Converse. A birthday present from Mary. "I don't know. For being rude I guess? I didn't want to... out you like that." "I'm not mad at you", Remus said calmly. Sirius knew he was lying. Or at least he wasn't fully telling the truth.

"No more Anne then?", he asked, leaning in the doorframe. "Nope." "She was nice. Everyone thought you'd be great together." "Everyone except you." Oh yeah. Sirius hated her - although, she never made it easy.

"Okay then, different question: what would you like your first time to be like?" "Sirius..." "You chose truth, Moony, so tell me the truth." Remus sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. "I'd like it to be with someone who knows me. Someone who I can trust and who I know will take care of me, who won't use me." Sirius bit his lip. There was a reason the Sorting Hat had sent him to Gryffindor. "Do you trust me, Remus?", he asked quietly as he carefully approached him, stopping only inches before him.

Remus looked shocked, almost scared. But definitely not repulsed. "I do." Sirius lifted a hand to run his fingers through the golden-brown curls. "Do you want me to take care of you?" Without thinking too much his hands slid up Sirius' beautiful thighs. Softly he pulled him into his lap. Sirius almost melted against him as he felt Remus' body against his own. "I do."

And with that, Sirus' mouth was on his, hands in his hair. Remus tasted of chocolate, and mint toothpaste and alcohol. His lips were addictive and a little rough because he always chewed on them, but fuck if it isn't the best thing Sirius had ever tasted.

The whole world seemed to fade away when he was with Remus. Everything was better, he wasn't nearly as anxious about anything as long as Moony was there. Their bodies seemed to melt together, Remus pulling Sirius closer and closer, one hand landing on his ass, gently gripping the soft flesh.

Sirius gasped, a little surprised. He hadn't expected Remus to be so active. It wasn't bad - far from it - but the little reaction had been enough to make Remus draw back, looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, that were barely visible around the black of his pupiles. "Did I do something wrong?", he asked carefully. Sirius immediately shook his head.

"How drunk are you?", Sirius asked. "Two butterbeers and half a glass of firewhiskey. You?" "One shot of green fairy and that other half of that firewhiskey. Are you sure about this? We can wait. I don't want you to do anything you'll regret becau-" Before he could finish Remus pressed the bulge in his trousers against Sirius' ass, almost making him moan. "How about you? Are you sure?" He stopped speaking, as he felt Sirius' erection rubbing against his. "Oh fuck! Okay..."

All hesitation gone, he kissed him again, pulling him closer. Gently he pushed Remus back onto the bed, holding himself up with one arm. "We can always stop. No matter when. If you need a break or want to stop completely, that is always fine, okay?", Sirius assured him quietly, looking up once to make sure he understood. Remus started kissing his neck, softly biting into the flesh. "I don't want to stop. Please don't stop", he murmured.

He was infinitely thankful that Remus wanted to keep going. He wasn't even sure if he could stop with Remus' lips being so criminally soft, his breath so warm against his own skin.

But the best part was to hear Remus say it. Hearing him admit that he wanted him. That he wanted to do this with him. He wouldn't dream of denying him anything he wanted.

"Tell me how you want it." He let a hand slide under Remus' jumper. His skin was warm and soft between the scars. "With your mouth." Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "Never had a blowjob either?" Remus shook his head. "Shit... Poor you", he teased, smiling softly. He pulled the jumper over his head, revealing Remus' chest. "Anything else?" "Ca- can I be... be in you? Fuck. How do you say that without sounding weird?"

His heart skipped a beat. "You can definitely do that", Sirius grinned, biting into the soft skin of Remus' neck. Sirius had always known that Remus was beautiful, having seen him change almost every day for six years, but he had never seen him this close, never had he had the opportunity to really... see him.

He kissed every scar, every mark on his body. He would worship him for hours and hours, but since this was Remus' first time, and Sirius was sure to come into his pants if they kept looking at each other like this for much longer, he decided to act. He started unbuckling Remus' belt and unzipping his trousers. Remus aided him by lifting his hips and soon the only thing left on him was Sirius.

"Merlin! Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you are?" Sirius looked up at him while carefully kissing along his v-line. Had he been just a little more drunk, he might have started drowling.

His gaze lifted to meet Remus'. The boy was blushing like a bloody tomato and looking unfairly attractive. Sirius would never get tired of this sight. His kisses wandered lower and lower, but his gaze stayed fixed on Remus.

He stroked his dick a few times, softly kissing the tip, before taking him in.

He started off slow and steady, enjoying the look of pleasure on Remus' face. It all went to hell when he heard Remus moan for the first time. He had always loved Remus' voice, but hearing him curse under his breath and- oh fuck! Sirius knew he was absolutely, positively fucked when he heard his name escape Remus' lips. At that point, nothing could hold him back. He sucked his dick as if his life depended on it. Everything to hear him moan again and again.

At some point, Remus started moving his hips upward, making Sirius take him deeper. He gagged but didn't complain. He would let him go on like this forever. But, inexperienced as he was, Remus didn't last long. Luckily, Sirius had enough experience for the both of them and knew to stop before Remus could finish.

As soon as his lips had left him, Remus pulled Sirius up to him, claiming his lips so greedily that Sirius was sure he'd faint.  Eventually, he turned them both around, pressing Sirius into the bed with his weight. He was so gone. His hands found their way into Remus' soft curls, while the taller boy gripped his hips possesively.

Sirius forced himself to break the kiss after a good few minutes. "How much do you know from theory?", Sirius asked, still out of breath. Remus needed a few seconds before he could form a proper sentence. "Only what I read in books." Surprised, Sirius lifted an eyebrow. "Where did you read about gay sex in school books?" Remus grinned. "Who said anything about school books!" Sirius could only laugh before Remus kissed him again.

"Moony", he protested quietly, growing weaker and weaker with each brush of their lips. "Hm?", the other boy answered, kisses growing sloppy. Merlin, there couldn't be anything hotter in this world. "If you wanna continue you have to let me get up for a moment." Remus grumbled in protest, but eventually pushed himself up.

After taking a few seconds to regain his motor functions,  Sirius pushed himself up to grab the condoms and lube from the drawer of his nightstand. "For protection and easy access", he explained, "with guys, it's easier because there's only one hole, so you can't get that wrong", Sirius continued and handed both items to Remus.

He was about to undo his belt when he felt Remus' firm grip around his wrist. He couldn't help but stare as the other boy's elegant fingers worked to get him out of his trousers. "I know that it's important to prepare and stretch before." Sirius nodded slowly. He could feel his throat go dry.

"Had to learn that the hard way. It's best if you start with your fingers." Remus smiled and kissed his stomach, sending butterflies through his entire body. "And then it's just in and out?" "Basically. You can vary with how hard and how fast you like it. And of course different positions, but let's keep it simple for the first time." His voice grew more and more shaky as Remus freed him of his underwear and let it drop to his ankles.

"And you say I'm gorgeous", Remus whispered, biting his lip. Sirius couldn't help but smile. "Well, you are. And you probably don't get to hear it nearly enough." He watched as Remus unwrapped the condom and put it on.

"You ready?" Sirius nodded and turned with his bare butt facing Remus. He could hear the sound of the bottle clicking open and not long after felt the cool wetness on his skin. "Do I just push them in?", Remus asked carefully. "Yeah. Try to get some of it everywhere. It feels a little strange at first, but you get used to it."

When he felt Remus' fingers pressing against him, he bit down on his lip, letting his head roll back. "Shit. Did I hurt you?" "Only a little, but that's normal. Just keep going. It'll get better", he assured him. So Remus kept pushing forward. His other hand started gently stroking over Srius' lower back, helping him relax.

It didn't take long for Sirius to start sighing and quietly moaning. "I'm ready. I'm ready for you, Moony." Remus' hands left him for a few moments before gripping onto Sirius' sides to hold him in place as he gently slid into him.

They both moaned in unison and took a minute to cope with the feeling. Remus was wonderfully big. Sirius didn't think he could fall any more for him but was proven awfully wrong when Remus started moving. He was careful, to not slip out when he drew back for the first time before pushing himself all the way in again; slow and steady.

Remus felt even greater than he'd imagined. And that was just during his first time. The things he might do to him with more experience... If this was something that would ever be repeated. No! No sad thoughts. Just focusing on how fucking hot the guy behind him was.

He couldn't help but let out a quiet whimper at the thought. Remus immediately paused "What's wrong? Did I-" "No", he interrupted, "Just keep going. Fuck, please don't stop."

Merlin, how he loved hearing him beg like this. Unable to even think about it, Remus started thrusting into him again; quicker this time. A row of nonsensical curses left his lips. His hands gripped Sirius' waist to keep them both steady and to have something to hold onto. With every single movement, he grew more and more frantic.

It only took Remus a few, way too short minutes to reach the edge. As was to be expected. At least he warned Sirius -different to other experiences he had made over the years. "Fuck- Sirius! I can't- I need to-" "Come! Just let go. It's alright." Sirius shifted his weight to move one hand to his own cock, which was already dripping with precum.

Remus' hips stuttered a bit before he stilled completely, emptying himself into the condom. Sirius moved between him and his hand a few times before finishing himself. Unsure what to do, and unable to do much else, Remus fell back onto the bed, catching his breath.

Sirius took a second as well before he turned toward him, inspecting him carefully. "Everything alright?" Remus just nodded. Smiling, Sirius got up and disappeared into the bathroom from which he reemerged with a glass of water a few seconds later. Carefully he helped him sit up, leaning both of them against the headboard, pulling the blanket over them. Remus drank while Sirius softly stroked his thigh.

"So... Who was your first time?", Sirius grinned.

[fairlylocalkatiee]

Big fan of your work, Was wondering if you could maybe do a 'one bed' trope with josh, maybe they come back from a bar after celebrating the mtv awards and decide to get a motel for the night as no one can drive because of how drunk they are, jenna and tyler get their own room and josh and the reader are stuck together, josh drunklingly claims the bed by flopping down and starfishing on the bed so reader grabs a pillow and makes comfy, just as reader starts to fall asleep josh starts asking them why theyre on the floor and makes a big fuss about being alone, you can end and start it however you want but just thought the idea would be nice

Be Concerned (There’s only one bed) Josh Dun x Fem!Reader

Word count - 2654

Warnings - This is smut 🫶🏻 , no condom sex (there is birth control)

Read On Ao3

Stumbling into your hotel your heels bit painfully into your toes as you followed behind the group. Jenna was hanging off Tyler’s arm which made you smile. At Least someone was getting laid tonight.

After securing a win for best rock music video at the MTV Video Music Awards everyone decided to go out to celebrate.

You’d been working with the band for a few years now and you’d always harbored a crush on your bandmate Josh, but there was absolutely no way you were going to ruin a good thing by revealing that little fact. You were sure there was no way he’d ever like you back, anyways.

“I’m really sorry sir, there seems to be a slight mix up in your reservation. All we have left are two single king beds, and unfortunately we are fully booked.”

“I guess that’s fine…”

You shrugged, not minding the idea of sharing a bed with Jenna. Until she grabbed your arm and gave you puppy dog eyes. “Please can I share with Tyler, (y/n?) I think this could be my night!”

“You want me to share a bed with Josh… I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.” You said nervously, looking up from your seat to see Josh and Tyler probably having the same conversation at the desk.

Your eyes lingered on Josh, his tie gone and his shirt unbuttoned at the top. You hoped he wouldn't notice you ogling him but in your slightly inebriated state you couldn’t stop looking. You knew he hated wearing suits but he looked damn good in them.

“You’ll be fine!” Jenna said a little too loudly, before she comically winking at you and failing to whisper “I think he’s gonna be happy.”

“Okay okay, fine. We’ll ask.” You finally relented just to get her to be quiet and she pulled you into a bone crushing hug.

“Thankyou Thankyou thank youuuu you’re the best (y/n)!” As she pulled away Tyler and Josh made their way over. Josh looked at you almost apologetically.

“Tyler asked if it was alright we shared a room, are you cool with that?”

“Jenna just asked me the same thing,” you said with a chuckle, “I don’t mind at all!” You tried to say nonchalantly like the idea of spending the night in the same room as the guy you’d had an unrequited crush on for years wasn’t making your head spin.

“Sweet, let’s go, We’re room 817. I can’t wait to get this monkey suit off.” Josh gestured to the elevators leading the way. Once everyone was inside he shrugged off his suit jacket revealing how his shirt clung to his toned biceps. Trying to keep your eyes to yourself you stared at your own reflection in the mirrored walls as you rode up to your room.

“We’ll see you guys at breakfast.” Jenna smiled mischievously at you. You weren’t sure if it was because she was excited for herself, or you. “Night guys!” Josh called out to them as you walked in opposite directions to get to your rooms.

“They are totally fucking tonight.” Josh said matter of factly.

“Definitely.”

Tapping the key card on the door the green light blinked twice and let you in. You flipped on the lights as you walked in dragging your suitcase behind you.

The bed took up a majority of the space in the room. Across from it was a dresser and TV, the only other thing in the room was a desk. “Not even a couch…” you groaned to yourself, eying the bed.

They called it a king but it looked more like a queen to you. Josh kicked off his shoes and started digging around in his suitcase.

“I'm gonna take a quick shower, do you mind?” You asked, josh looked up at you and shrugged.

“Go ahead, I'll change here.”

Having expected to be in your own room, you mentally kicked yourself for not bringing more than just an old t-shirt to sleep in. Praying it was long enough to cover your lack of pants. There was no way in hell you were sleeping in your awards show dress. Scooping up the rest of the stuff you needed for your nighttime routine you locked yourself in the bathroom. Any lingering effects of the alcohol were long gone now. You almost wished you had taken an extra shot or two so your anxiety wouldn’t be so bad.

“It's just Josh, he’s cool with it. I should be cool with it.” You said to yourself as you undressed, inspecting yourself in the mirror.

You cranked the water to its hottest setting, boiling yourself like a lobster while scrubbing with your favorite soap. After drying off, you slipped into a pair of plain panties and a too-big t-shirt. Debating putting your bra back on but you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep wearing that torture device.

After you finished getting ready for bed you took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door, a blast of cool air from the room hitting you immediately.

What you saw made your breath catch in your throat. Josh splayed out on the bed like a starfish, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants that hung dangerously on his hips.

“Fuck me.” Was all you could think.

His eyes were closed and he had his phone resting on his chest so you assumed he had fallen asleep while you were gone. How did he look this sexy even asleep?

With a sigh you grabbed a pillow and blanket off the bed and tossed it to the floor, your back would hurt like a bitch in the morning for sure but you didn’t want to bother him. Plugging in your phone you took one last look at Josh. You'd seen him shirtless countless times at every show but somehow seeing him like this, completely relaxed and unguarded left you feeling breathless.

Shaking your head at yourself and flipping off the lights you laid down on your makeshift bed, attempting to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the hard floor.

After a few minutes of silence you heard the bed creek, and then Josh’s voice from above you. “(y/n)? Why are you on the floor?” You squint in the darkness to see him pop his head over the side and look down at you.

“You were taking up the whole bed and I didn’t want to wake you up.” You said matter of factly.

“Come on, you should’ve kicked me awake or something. You’re not sleeping on the floor. If you’re uncomfortable with it I’ll sleep on the floor, seriously.”

“I’m not uncomfortable.” You said quickly.

“Perfect, then get in bed with me (y/n).” His tone and words unexpectedly make you tingle with arousal, glad that the darkness was hiding how much they affected you even if he was just messing with you.

Your back was already stiff from just a few minutes on the floor, So you really had no other choice. Scrambling up you put your pillow and blanket back on the bed, before slipping underneath with a sigh.

Josh climbed in next to you and the way he smiled at you made your heart squeeze in your chest. Not in a million years did you ever picture yourself laying in bed with a shirtless Josh Dun. You could feel the heat radiating off his body next to you.

“Much better.” Josh said with a sigh as he got comfortable next to you like he didn’t have a care in the world while you stayed still trying to calm the thrum of your heart.

“Good night (Y/N).” He said softly, his voice already getting deeper with sleep.

“Goodnight Josh”

——

You stirred awake, feeling wrapped up in the most comfortable warmth you’ve ever felt. You didn’t dare open your eyes, wanting to stay like this for as long as possible. Somehow in your sleep you and Josh had migrated so he was spooning you, His arms wrapped securely around your middle while he was pressed firmly against your back. You could feel the heat of his breath on your neck, which made goosebumps rise on your skin.

“(Y/N)…” Josh’s rough sleep filled voice purred against your skin. His hips moving involuntarily against you, grinding his morning hard on directly on your ass.

You’d never felt more turned on in your life, and you weren’t even sure if he was awake or not. You guessed no. But then that would mean he was moaning your name in his sleep, and fuck, you felt the dampness grow in your panties at the thought.

“Josh…” you whispered, his arms tightened around you but he stilled his movements.

“Josh, wake up.” You said a bit louder this time. Even if you were enjoying it you didn’t want him to feel weird about this later.

“I’m up…” He spoke softly into your ear.

“(Y/N) If you want me to stop, tell me.” His body is completely still but he stayed wrapped around you.

You didn’t hesitate before breathing out, “Don’t stop…”

Josh’s hands tightened around you and he ground his hardness against you again, feeling his rough palms slip underneath your shirt and cup your naked breasts. Biting out a little moan of pleasure as his fingers brushed over your already hard nipples. “I can’t believe I waited so long to do this…”

He pressed his lips against the pulse point of your neck and you felt like jelly in his arms. “I can’t either.” You said with a little laugh, before shifting around in his arms so you were face to face with him.

“Kiss me.” You begged, and he immediately obliged, pressing his lips against yours with need. His hands sliding all over your skin as you did the same, tracing your hands over the muscles you’d always ached to touch. He pulled away leaving you breathless and his eyes stared into yours, the morning sun streaming through hitting him just right making his eyes a kaleidoscope of golden browns and greens you could get lost in.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want to be with me, (y/n) because if we go any further I’m going to fall so hard for you I’m gonna have to marry you.”

Your heart burst at his confession and you found yourself a stuttering mess. “Don’t stop.” Was all you could manage to say, letting that be your answer.

“Well good then, we're on the same page.” He gave you another dazzling smile before pressing his lips against yours again as he adjusted himself so he was hovering over you. “You looked so good last night in your dress (Y/N), I wanted to tear it off you.”

He reached for the hem of your shirt and you helped him take it off for you, so now you were both bare chested. His lips immediately locking onto one of your nipples you arched into him. One warm hand palming your other breast as he nipped and sucked

“You didn’t look so bad yourself.” Your fingers laced in his dark curls as he started to work his way down your stomach with feather light kisses and bites leaving a trail of fire on your skin wherever he touched. His hands are working at the same time slipping off your already soaked panties.

You felt a brief moment of self conciousness as he took in your most intimate parts, but your thoughts dissipated quickly as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders and buried his tongue inside you. His mouth latching onto your clit.

“Fuck!” You tried to muffle the moan with your arm but it was no use. His tongue worked magic on you as he swirled and sucked expertly making you squirm in his arms. He held you tightly and didn’t relent.

“Don’t be quiet, I don’t care if anyone can hear you. I want them to know who you belong to.” He looked up at you from between your legs with his gaze burning. His hands dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he held you in place, your orgasm building with intensity with every lap of his tongue.

Feeling yourself unravel as he slipped two fingers into your wet heat, curling them as he started to work them in and out of you.

“Josh, ah- fuck, I’m close…” you said with labored breaths.

He kept his momentum up and didn’t stop holding you in place as he finally pushed you over the edge with a curl of his fingers, feeling yourself come undone on his tongue seeing stars as you finally came. Your walls pulsed around his fingers and your legs shook from the intensity of it.

“You look so beautiful cuming for me, (y/n).” Josh sat up taking your legs off his shoulders. Taking his fingers he just fucked you with and sucking them clean. “I can’t get enough of how good you taste but I really want to fuck you.” You spread your legs for him as he situated himself, getting ready to line his dripping cock up with your aching heat.

“Shit, I need a condom,” he started to pull away but you locked your legs around him and reached for his arms. “I’m clean and on the pill, are you clean?”

“Fuck yes I am baby.” He captured your lips in a kiss melding his tongue with yours as he lined up his cock again, brushing it against your overly sensitive clit, still tingling from your orgasm.

Finally pressing his cock inside you felt yourself slowly stretch around him as he bottomed out, filling you completely.

“Fuck… you feel even better then I imagined”

“Your dick is even bigger than I imagined too” you said with a mischievous smile, He rocked his hips in response. Starting a steady rhythm as he pressed hot kisses to your throat, his hands finding your hips and holding you firmly in place as he slowly fucked into you.

You couldn’t keep your eyes off him, he looked gorgeous as sweat dappled his skin, his curls falling over his forehead. Your eyes memorize every inch of his body up close. You dreamt of this exact moment so many times you wanted to engrave it into your brain forever, but the feel of him actually inside you was better than anything your brain could conjure up.

You ran your hands along his chest before digging your fingers in his back as he gripped your hips to fuck you harder, every thrust clouding your mind as you came closer and closer to your second orgasm.

His thumb found its way to your clit again and you didn’t hold back as you moaned out his name, clenching around him which only made him thrust into you harder.

“Josh, fuck!” You felt your orgasm rip throuh making you clench around his cock triggering his own release, burying himself to the hilt as his cock pumped his warm seed inside you. Slowing his thrusts as he rode out his orgasm you could feel his cock softening inside you as he finally slipped out of you.

Falling to your side you both laid next to each other catching your breath. Josh pulled you into his arms so you could lay your head on his chest, your naked bodies entwined in the sheets. You could hear his heart pounding in rhythm with yours. His lips pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

Your phone buzzed loudly on the side table making you jump. Reaching over you picked it up and glanced at the screen, Jenna’s name lighting it up.

“I just had the best night of my life.” Her text read.

“Called it.” Josh said triumphantly over your shoulder.

You laughed before you typed back, knowing he was still looking at your phone.

“Me too.”

——

TikTok was banned so I finally finished this request I’ve been working on slowly for weeks lol. Sorry about my absence but here I am with hopefully more coming soon!

@oldiesstationlover11607 @soupiiiie @anyaisop @z0mbiekisses if anyone else wants to be tagged just comment :)

[wlwsoccerfics]

Toxic Cheater (KatieMcCabeXCaitlinFoordXMcCabeReader)

A/N: very short. Just a conversation between Sisters and Future sister in laws.

Warnings: mentions of cheating. Google translate used.

Summary: you have a talk with your older sister Katie and Caitlin after a breakup with your ex.

You sit in the livingroom with your sister, who has her arms wrapped around her. She was rubbing your back gently. While Caitlin grabbed the bags from your car and put them on the guest room.

"i am so sorry that she cheated on you! For what's worth i always hated her! And you deserve better Baby sis!" Katie said. You couldn't blame them. Your now ex was always kind of a bitch. Neither one of your siblings liked her very much. And you were pretty certain your parents hated her as well. Should have been a big Warning Sign to you, but you know what they say. Love makes you blind and stupid sometimes.

"i am thankful that it's over! Cause i knew she was toxic. But i only realized that recently when she was cheating on me and then tried to blame it on me because i was busy with work so i couldn't be there 24/7 Catering to her needs! Still hurts knowing i lost two years of my Life to her!" You answered. But glad you broke up with her. It was long overdue. She gave you so many emotional scars.

"Katie often was ready to punch Lorrain. Cause she treated you badly and honestly towards the end i was tempted to not hold her back." Caitlin admitted.

"it's true! She always was mean as fuck and believe me when i say this. Everyone in the Family felt like punching her, no one did cause we aren't a bunch of animals. We also tried to to see how bad she was for you. So glad to see you figured it out now!" Katie told you.

"better late then never, right?" You stated.

"go hiomlán." Katie replied. ( absolutely. ) "An bhfuil a fhios agat go bhfuil dúil mhór ag Kyra ionat?" Your sister added. ( you know that Kyra has a crush on you? right? )

"i ndáiríre?" You asked. Cause you had No Idea. ( really? )

"okay you two, time to speak english again." Caitlin replied.

"is it true that Kyra has a crush on me?!" You asked your future sister in law. Caitlin looked at your sister.

"Babe that was supposed to be a secret." Caitlin told your sister.

"so it's true. good to know." You stated.

"sorry, but don't you think they would be cute together?" Katie asked.

"they would be. They also would at to the Arsenal couples. I mean there are alot of couples on the Team. So what's one more?" Caitlin said.

"okay calm down Guys. I don't want to start dating right away!" You told them and chuckled a bit.

"still., just keep it in mind." Your sister suggested.

"i promise i will. But i just gonna Focus on the Champions League Final now. It coming up soon and we should be ready for it!" You replied.

"i like the sound of this cause i believe If we prepare enough that we can beat Barca!" Katie let you know.

"hell yes!" Caitlin said. Smiling softly. You nodded your head in agreement.

"and after that i might ask Kyra out." You announced before leaving the room.

"i would bet Money in this. They gonna kiss before the Champions League Final in three weeks."your sister told Caitlin.

"well Kyra knows y/n is single now so she is probably gonna Flirt with her alot so i give it a week before they gonna hook up." Caitlin stated.

"let's wait and see how this unfolds." Katie said and pulled her fiancee in for a kiss.

[jirsungs]

ep 17: i missed you (too)

word count: 3.1k

You join Jisung in the kitchen and when he sees you arrive, he hops off the counter before he can look at your choice of outfit for the evening. 

But when he does, he wishes he could rewind the moment you walked in so he can pay more attention because holy fuck. Those words were the only coherent thing he could pull out of his brain, but he didn’t blame himself for the mental trouble, because seriously, holy fuck.

Lord, he wishes that no one else has seen you in this black strapless midi dress, which he’s 80% sure is from Kukombo, he remembered you and Ning raving about it a couple of weeks back. Your hair perfectly dolled up, just like the first time he saw you, with your pearl necklace layered by your Tiffany & Co. Infinity Pendant necklace sitting pretty on your collarbone.

He recalls you gushing about how much you love layering jewelry pieces together or how complete it makes you feel on the first night you hung out alone. He also remembers you telling him that the Tiffany & Co. necklace you’re wearing now was bought with Renjun’s card after you begged him on your birthday. 

“You look pretty.” Jisung blurts out before his brain can process that those words actually left his mouth.

His compliment makes you smile. “Thank you.”

Should I have said more? Was that not enough? She looks absolutely gorgeous, but if I say that, I might come off desperate and I am not desperate. Wait. Am I?

Pfft, no, of course not.

He shakes out of his mental dilemma when he hears you talk again, “You too—I mean, you look good.”

Despite you seeing him blush in front of you and mumble a “thank you”, his physical appearance did not match. An awkward guy dressed in his black graphic t-shirt and gray denim baggy jeans. To everyone else, he was seen as a stern, quiet dude who stayed close to his friends and played drums weekly, but to you? He was anything but stern or quiet.

“What’s with us always meeting in kitchens?” You try to joke, your horrible attempt to ease the weird tension in the air.

It was a pretty bad joke, if you could even call it one, but at least, you know that there will be someone who laughs at anything you say. And that’s Jisung. “Right? I guess it’s the place where we’re just destined to be together. We first met in Karina’s kitchen, then had our first interaction after Karina’s party in Johnny’s kitchen—”

“One horrible interaction.” You both wince at the immature memory. 

“Yep, it was pretty bad… But now, you’re here with me in Chenle’s kitchen after… ghosting me for two weeks.”

An awkward laugh escapes your mouth, not knowing what to say now that the air suddenly grew uncomfortable. Fortunately for you, Jisung doesn’t notice and is instead embarrassed by himself.

“Sorry, I said kitchen too many times. That was–it sounded weird.”

It’s been two weeks without him and yet somehow, he still holds the power of making it impossible for you to be mad at him. You hate that you always find his awkwardness endearing.

“You’re fine, Ji. In fact, it didn’t sound weird to me at all.” You reassuringly smile, nudging his side.

And that one overused nickname he's heard from multiple different people sounded the prettiest when it came from you. A light switched in him and the next thing you know, Jisung's ranting about Rockway's past gig to Jeno breaking their blender after attempting to make a blueberry banana smoothie for him before their workout at the gym.

Your friends come over once they spot you two in the kitchen corner together, cutting your conversation short. Suddenly, you’re in the arms of Ning and Haechan, engulfing you in a hug while Jisung is kept occupied in conversation with Renjun, Mark, and Jaemin. 

Soon after, your interactions die down with Ning and Haechan accompanying each other to go dance and the three guys who busied Jisung left due to Chenle pulling them away for a game of beer pong. 

Chenle was successful in dragging Jaemin and Renjun while Mark followed suit. But as Mark was about to leave, he stopped to offer Jisung a spot to join, which you encouraged, since Rockway usually boasts about how skilled he is at the game. But he turned down his friend’s offer with a shake of his head. 

You guess Jisung made a signal to the clueless guitarist because Mark says no more, glancing between you and him before letting out an “Ohhh…” He winks at the guy next to you, who you see grow more flustered by the minute, and exits out of the kitchen.

Jisung finally lets go of the breath you didn’t realize he was holding onto for so long and you’re left alone together once more.

The quiet gives Jisung the perfect opportunity to continue catching up with you. You’re not even thirty minutes into the conversation when it gets interrupted again, this time by Yeonjun and Jeno whining about their loss in beer pong. And after multiple pleas from them, they were finally able to pull the beloved drummer boy away from your side.

“I’ll be right back after this, I promise.” Jisung gives you one last pouty look before the guys tug him by the arms. 

“Yeah yeah, don’t get clingy, lover boy.” Yeonjun chirps out as he and Jeno drag him away, the latter following up with a, “We’ll take good care of him, Y/N!”

Your eyes follow the three guys, they join the crowded table that has multiple red solo cups set on either side, and you take notice of how Jisung radiates a whole new light when he’s surrounded by his bandmates, along with your friends. You adored that you all became such a tight-knit group so quickly. It’s nice. Well, sometimes. Haechan and Mark currently screaming over one another is one of the reasons why you say “sometimes.”

“You guys already have Yeonjun! Let us have Jisunggg!” Haechan whines. 

Mark lets out a humorless laugh, “What’re you talking about? Renjun clearly made y’all win last game!”

Your eyes shift over to Jisung, who’s covering his ears at the noise. It makes you laugh under your breath.

Luckily, the argument between Haechan and Mark didn’t last long because the next time you looked over, they were already concentrating on their game. Shotaro, a mutual friend of Rockway’s, was focusing his aim on the cup. 

While Jisung is playing beer pong with the others, you’re left alone, feeling peaceful as you watch the party around you. But to your dismay, your content mood turns sour when you see Jaeyun, your ex-situationship, walk over.

“Y/N alone at a party? That’s a new one.” He snickers, pouring himself a cup of the cheap beer.

You watch him take a sip and scowl. “What are you doing here?” 

“It’s an open-invite party, pretty face. You know I never skip out on these.”

“You’re not even friends with Chenle, or anyone here, for that matter.”

Jaeyun takes another sip of his drink, “Eh, so what? Again,” He lowers himself to directly meet your eyes, “It’s a free party.”

He disgusts you.

Once Jisung takes his turn throwing the small ping-pong ball towards the cup and it lands inside, as expected, his teammates Jeno, Mark, Yeonjun, and Wonbin cheer and hype the drummer up at his performance. 

As Jisung glances between the four guys surrounding him, he sees you accompanied by someone in the background. His friends don’t notice him moving to the back of them as their attention is set on Jeno already being pushed to the front for his turn.

His eyes widen when he realizes who's talking to you. Jaeyun. The one guy you told him about on your first hangout together when he was curious about your past. He’s glad you didn’t hide yourself away from him when he asked because now, he knows that the guy is nothing but a lovebombing asswipe. But what he isn’t so thrilled about is the fact that he shares a class with the guy, let alone the same major. 

You’re uneasy, he can tell. It’s painful to watch. And he’s sure your feeling gets worse once he sees you grow visibly stiff when a girl comes over and kisses Jaeyun on the cheek.

Insecure isn’t typically a word Jisung would use to describe himself. He sometimes becomes doubtful of himself, sure, but insecure isn’t a word that would be in his pile of descriptions. Plus, he knows he's on your mind every second of every day, and that was more than enough assurance for him. 

But Jaeyun intimidated the hell out of him, he knew this, despite being a few months older than him, Jaeyun was bulkier and he was aware that his looks could kill, he guessed that’s how he got you gripped on him at one point in your life. However, that still didn’t stop him from excusing himself from his friends, lying to them that he needed to go to the bathroom.

Surprisingly, his friends paid no attention to his departure with how engrossed they were in their game, making it easier for him to rush to the kitchen. 

You’re too busy tolerating Jaeyun and his next fling’s drained conversation they were having with you, to notice him walk in. That is until you feel a presence beside you and an arm wrapped around your waist, leading you to look up at the culprit and see Jisung. It was new seeing him touch you so comfortably like this, or be possessive either. You weren’t complaining though, it was definitely something you could get used to.

But the said man doesn’t have time to make eye contact with you because all he’s focused on is his main goal here, and that’s for Jaeyun to get out of your goddamn face.

“Sim, you’re not making her uncomfortable, are you?”

What is he doing? You think. Jaeyun letting out a low whistle and opening his obnoxious mouth again doesn’t allow you to dwell on it.

“Wow, Y/N, I didn’t think you were into,” He eyes Jisung up and down unimpressed, “lousy playing drummer boys all that much.”

Oh God.

You feel Jisung’s arm around you tense up, “What did you just say?”

Jaeyun only snickers. You watch Woona, his new fling who you, unfortunately, remember the name of cling onto him tighter. You roll your eyes at the action.

“I mean, as far as I remember, you were better than picking underground losers off the low-paying nightclubs his band plays at.”

You scoff. It was obvious he knew nothing about Jisung, Rockway, or any of their successes, “You’re full of shit, Jaeyun.”

Your ex-situationship couldn’t care less about what you said because once he sees Jisung’s fuming face slightly falter, he knows he got him. So he continues, “Jisung, I’m warning you now, man. You better find a better chick 'cause all you got right now is some bitch who’ll whore around for anyone with a dick attached—”

Everything happens in a blink of an eye. You seriously don’t know how.

One moment Jisung’s arm is wrapped around your body then the next, he and Jaeyun are on the kitchen floor while Jisung lunges at him right away, giving Jaeyun barely time to react before his fist crashes down on him. The connection to Jaeyun’s jaw creates a painful crunch that echoes across the room, resulting in some partygoers reacting to the scene.

Your expression never changes as you watch in disbelief at the whole thing, Woona instantly screaming and trying to push Jisung off. It doesn’t work though, she falls over when Jaeyun attempts to regain himself, bouncing back a punch that has Jisung’s head taking a hit to the side. But Jisung rapidly returns his attention. Regaining control of his fist, he delivers another vicious blow to Jaeyun’s face, then follows with another, and another, and by the next punch, he finds himself losing control.

The number of punches he’s thrown, Jisung stays unaware of it, and frankly, he doesn’t give a shit about it. He continues to stay unaware even when people’s arms are grasping him from behind to force him from the wounded Jaeyun.

“Jisung, what the fuck is wrong with you?” It isn’t until Haechan’s distressed voice snaps him out of his daze, that he finally notices Jaeyun being helped up by Yuta and Jungwoo.

He observes Jaeyun’s bleeding lip and bruised face and finds no remorse in his heart. Throwing punches at the guy isn’t the worst thing he could’ve done, he knew that Jaeyun knew he deserved it too.

Instead of answering Haechan and the others as their worries talk over one another, his breath remains raggedy when he takes a glance over at you, you didn’t move from the spot, your hand over your chest as you’re heaving, trying to recollect yourself from what just happened. His gaze is fixated on you while your eyes shift between Jaeyun and Woona, who’s giving you the worst side eye known to man. 

Jisung guesses he didn’t hit Jaeyun hard enough, because he dares to open his mouth again. His voice raspy and taunting, “Shit, you’re lucky your band came to the rescue ‘cause I would’ve ripped you apart.”

“You never shut your mouth, do y—” It was stupid, Jisung knew it was, but it still had him attempting to pounce forward in the grasp of his friends but they swiftly pulled him back, making loud protests.

With all the voices that rang throughout the room, Chenle’s was the only one that caught Jisung’s attention, seeing his best friend angry was a usual thing, just not like this, “Ji, if you don’t wanna calm yourself down, take this shit outside.”

“Fine.” The younger’s eyes soften as he looks between Haechan and Jaemin who are currently holding him, “Let go of me.”

Haechan arches his brow at him, unsure of whether to trust Jisung or if he'll start something when he’s freed, but the two exchange a look before letting him go.

And just like that, Jisung storms out of the kitchen, paying no mind to Jaeyun who tries to reach for him. He exits Chenle’s apartment, and you immediately follow after him. 

Your hurried steps make contact with the concrete sidewalk as you reach outside of the house, trying to walk faster to match his pace. The cold air quickly reaches your body, making you rub your arms in hopes of warming up. 

When you’re walking close behind him, you speak up, “Jisung, I can’t believe you just did that! That whole thing was unnecessary, I don’t even know why you decided to get yourself hurt over someone as stupid as Jaeyun!” Your words coming out as a scold.

His abrupt stop in his tread almost makes you bump into him, but he turns himself around and faces you. He lashes out. “Unnecessary? My ass, it was unnecessary! I couldn't stand hearing him talk about you like that, especially when he's the one who treated you like garbage.”

Confused at his sudden outburst, you lash back, “Jisung, why did you do that?”

Jisung releases a deep breath, “Y/N, I did it because…” He can’t dare to look at you, so he glances up at the night sky instead. "Geez..."

You grow angrier seeing his focus not on you, “What, Jisung? What?”

“Fuck, because I like you, you idiot! Can’t you see that?” Your eyes slightly widen and you swallow the next agitated remark resting on your tongue. With you now becoming quiet, he allows himself to slowly calm down, “Look… I know I'm not the best with words, we know that. But these whole two weeks of me waiting by the phone just for one single text from you confused the hell outta me. I mean, at one point, you're hating me, and then I'm hating you, to us being friends, now to whatever this is.” He motions his hands between the two of you in a stressed manner.

Still. You can’t believe your ears, so you dumbly ask, “You what?”

He’s calmed down by this point, looking like an ashamed puppy, “I like you, Y/N. I really really like you.”

“And what makes you think I didn't feel the same?” Now it's Jisung's turn to be confused, his lost eyes being nothing but cute to you. Even beaten up, he was adorable. You sigh, “I like you too, stupid.” 

“Oh, thank God.” 

In a flash, his head is tilted down to match your height, and he leans in, his hands reaching for your jaw. Then, his lips meet yours. His fingers keep their place on your jaw, gentle and scared to move down. Finally, he thinks. Expecting you to pull away, he’s surprised when you kiss him back, your hands gripped on his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Fireworks weren’t going off, but your heart sure felt like they were.

You never thought your first kiss with Jisung would be like this, desperate and full of want. But you don’t care, he longed for this, and so did you. 

He pulls away and rests his forehead on yours. He circles your waist with both arms, before he speaks, his breath still heavy, “I know that you told me you always wished for a fairytale kiss, but I couldn’t help it anymore. So, uh, I hope that kinda made up for it?”

He just kissed you and he’s awkward?

You affectionately smile, “It made up for it, Ji. Really.” You loop your arms around his neck. “Now is this a bad time to apologize for how stupid it was to ghost you or…?”   

He chuckles, “You’re cute.” You pout and mumble a “shut up” before he continues, “But yes, it is. I mean, I already forgave you the moment you came over. I’m kinda hurt you didn’t realize that.”

His fake frown leads you to remove one arm from his neck and smack his chest, “I can’t read between the lines!” 

“My bad, my bad. That was my fault for thinking so.”

You hmph, both of your arms taken off his neck for you to cross them instead, “Thank you.”

Jisung thinks your attitude is adorable, and he can’t even be mad at you. Especially with you finally in his arms again after yearning for you for three months, it made everything worth it.

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

note: THEY FINALLY SAID IT YALLL 🙏 this chapter is cliché and cheesy af!!!! but did i still kick my feet proofreading it? of course, i did 🤭 also so sorry for such a late update ☹️, i got busy prioritizing other things! but i'm finally back!

🎫: @idkwhatursayinh @sunghoonsgfreal @multifandomania @nanaxwi @odxrilove @sourrpatched @hancafe @chaellaa @dojaejunging @jising-jisang-jisung @heheheeral @haechansbbg @renjunsversion @seunghancore @woshixinqgiu @jiiieun @pinknjm @mrshwang-park @neozon3nha @joyzluvr @aerivrs @nosungluv @haechology @beomgyusonlywife @injunnie-lemon @tommina @222low

[cleoselene]

called my congressman and told them how much of a patriot i was and asked if they knew the signifcance of April 9 in US history. The aide did not. I informed them it was when the Confederacy surrendered, millions of Americans were given freedom, and our country was made whole again, and that the Congressman should submit a bill to make it a federal holiday, "Patriots Day"

it got pretty quiet lol, but he was like "I will pass it along, that's a nice sentiment I am a patriot too"

and then I pulled out my International Thespian Society cred and turned from RAH RAH JINGOISM to deep, existential sorrow:

and I told him that what broke my heart, despite the beauty and the glory that is April 9 and what it means to this country and how we can overcome our worst impulses and heal, is that on January 6, 2021, insurrectionists carried the Confederate flag of TREASON into our sacred shrine of democracy and the president that BYRON DONALDS supports pardoned all those people who were open, proud traitors. And what a tragedy that was. And how sad it made me. And doesn't it make you sad? Doesn't the thought of our country being torn into horrible? Wouldn't it have been awful if the South had won and men like Congressman Donalds would likely be in bondage? Wouldn't that just be the worst thing you could imagine it? Doesn't it break your heart?

I had some good tears going.

And the guy was like, "okay thank you for your time" but I monologued at him for quite a while.

My grandma used to say scream into a pillow when you're angry. I woke up to a migraine and a panic attack. I took my klonopin, then called up the Donalds DC office, and instead of screaming into a pillow, I channeled all my negative feelings toward this person, who is enabling fascism.

I did it yesterday, too. it's an INCREDIBLE way to vent. Sure, screaming into a pillow doesn't hurt anyone, but berating people who are assisting the destruction of the world DOES hurt bad people, which is SO much better! If nothing else, it makes the people who made the choice to work for these absolute monsters miserable at work. It makes them dread going in every single day and having to take these calls and listen to people tell them how many ways they suck all day long. I would HATE this job! it would be so demoralizing. And I know I've made some of them feel like shit, and normally, you shouldn't want to hurt people, but these people are hurting us. So it's a good thing. Slow them down. Make their job harder. Make them quit. Make them realize it's not worth it. If you get even one person to ragequit, you've done good. If you've made one fascist have a bad day, then you've made the world a better place.

I think this might actually be better than talk therapy because every time I call a Republican office and read them for filth and run circles around them with my knowledge of civics and American history and get to burn them academically (and oh how I miss the thought of handing out academic burns through the Career that Never Was, but I can do it to fascists and it's so much easier because they all know fucking nothing!) I get to patronizingly educate them on economics, US history, US government, and basic civics and logic on the reg. I get to tell them how stupid and immoral they are in the most eloquent way possible and it makes me feel powerful and useful

really, if you have anger or needs to vent, and you can keep yourself from curse and keep your tone even enough (tears are always okay, try not to yell, and be like, excessively strict about the decorum of proper conversation and do not allow them to interrupt with you -- give them the ol' Kamala "I'm speaking"), there is nothing like wasting a Nazi's time and making them feel bad. And it's free!

I have been very open on this blog about my recent bouts with severe depression and exploring different kinds of treatment to address it and I am telling you, a klonopin + berating a fascist = as good as a massage. I feel so much lighter after I've made their day worse. I still have the ability to call and say whatever the FUCK I want to these people and until they take it away from me it I am going to use it to boost my own mental health while making a Nazi's mental health worse. beautiful, just beautiful, best recovery from a panic attack I've had in some time.

some people might say being angry doesn't help but like, I approach these calls like an actor monologuing, a different character every time. I channel the emotions through the character, and it's like draining an abscess every time. Sometimes you gotta squeeze the poison out and popping that infection in a way that spurts pus in a fascist's face? love it love it love it

[mightypurplethunder]

I don't want to see any of you usamericans talk about "punching nazis" ever again. I don't want to hear yall pat each other on the back and say shit like "If I had been alive during the holocaust I would have done something about it", or any other white savior shit like that.

You don't care about jews, you didn't care about them back then, just as you don't care about palestinians now. Yall repeat and repeat "the holocaust was terrible, we should condemn it", not because you care, but because it lifts yourselves up. Because it's the only war that the US won where they just happened to be on "the good side", so it portrays you as heroes, warriors of justice, which happens to be excelent propaganda material, so you exploit it. You make memorials, you make films, hundreds of them, fetishizing the jewish suffering and portraying yourselves as the force of good that saved them all. Meanwhile, dozens of other genocides - many of them even bigger and bloddier than the holocaust - happen around the world, many of them endorsed or supported by your government. But yall don't care. It's not the holocaust. You're not the good guys in this one so why bother making a movie, why pay atention to it at all? It's hard to keep track of everything happening in the world, it has nothing to do with you. So you just keep scrolling your socials paying no mind to whatever fucked up shit is happening out there, until you run into some fucker from the global south posting something mildly critical of israel, or about how the United States shamelessly exploits jewish history for the sake of warfare, or how victim mentality is a dangerous thing for a marginalized group to hold on to, and you get furious. How dare they say things that don't align with the narrative I've been fed my whole life?? They are anti-semitic!! They hate jews!! They are nazis!! And you tell them so, you put them in their place, because you are a democrat and a good guy and you won't tolerate nazis. And then you reblog "support our troops" posts and write letters to your president begging him to bomb brown people on the other side of the planet because they are terrorists, I think. And I'm here to tell you that you are not the good guy, you are not a hero. You are a victim of indoctrination and an idiot, and your domestic white politics mean absolutely nothing to the rest of the world.

Yes, I did watch Schindler's list. No, I don't hate jewish people. Yes, I'll aggresively condemn Israel's actions and anyone blind enough to say that one genocide justifies another, and I will always support palestinian people. And if you happen to be a jewish person that has somehow found themselves in the center of a conversation that isn't even about you, and getting negative attention you don't deserve, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that no matter what you do or where you live, you keep being used as a scapegoat and your life and history exploited for colonialist propaganda, your heritage is worth more than that.

So keep calling yourselves the good guys, keep pulling the anti-semite card or the "Palestine is homophobic" argument. Keep playing your white politics in your white country that you stole from non-white people. The rest of the world is watching you and history will remember you as what you are and always have been; fucking colonizers.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I love Eddie being the one who's clueless about his sexuality and Steve being the one who's confident. Like Eddie knows that he likes cheerleaders, but he's absolutely adamant that he must really hate jocks with the way he stares at them. Like when he was forced to dress for gym, and he just sat in the bleachers staring at Steve Harrington in his little shorts.

"He looks so fucking stupid," Eddie thought as he stared at Steve's thighs. "So, stupid. Ugh, I hate this guy, and I don't even know why. It's not like he's ever done anything to me. In fact, he's a decent guy for a jock with his stupid muscles and his stupid hair. Ugh. His hair. Wonder what it would be like to touch it."

Meanwhile, on the court. . .

"Munson's staring at you again, Harrington," Tommy whispered. "Oh. I know that look. Do you think he's figured you out?"

"Stop it," Steve glared at him.

"Do you think he knows about you? About what we used to do in the dark? At parties, when everyone was too drunk to notice?" Tommy asked.

"Tommy," Steve warned.

Someone else came close to them, and Tommy shut up. They may hate each other now, but Tommy wasn't that much of an asshole that he would reveal their secrets.

"Just because we hate each other doesn't mean that we can't still have fun," Tommy whispered. "Meet me in the showers when everyone is done."

Meanwhile, back at the bleachers. . .

Eddie frowned at the sight of Steve talking to Tommy. It didn't look to be a happy conversation. Eddie proceeded to stare at Steve the rest of the period, trying to figure him out. Once everyone had gone into the locker room and left, Eddie went in to get changed. He had just finished putting on his clothes when he heard a loud moaning sound. Eddie frowned. Was someone hurt? Eddie moved around the lockers and came to the last set. He peered around them and saw Tommy pressing Steve against the wall. His lips were attached to Steve’s neck, and his hand was between his legs. It was actually in Steve's shorts. Steve’s eyes were closed, and his mouth was open. Eddie's eyes widened, and he quickly scurried out of the locker room.

"Woah! I don't think I was supposed to see that," Eddie muttered.

He tried not to think about it. He really did, but Steve’s face popped into his mind, and the image of what Tommy was doing to him. Ugh, he hated what Tommy was doing to him. Wait, was he homophobic? No, he knew Jeff was gay and he was more than alright with him. He hated that it was Tommy. Maybe Eddie wished it was him instead. No, that's crazy. Eddie's always liked girls, didn't he? Suddenly, the image of Eddie pressing Steve up against that popped into his head. Oh God. Arousal started to pool deep in his stomach, and he felt himself getting hot.

"Not here, not here!" Eddie muttered as he ran off towards the bathroom.

After a while, he came out of the bathroom, scowling. Okay, yeah, he definitely wasn't straight.

"I need to talk to Jeff!" Eddie exclaimed and scurried off.

So, he finally figured it out. Fast forward to '86, and he's slamming Steve Harrington against the wall of the boathouse. He's holding Steve against the wall with a beer bottle pressed up against his throat, and people are screaming at him to let him go. Eddie remembers, and he starts laughing causing the beer bottle to make a small cut on Steve’s neck. He immediately dropped the bottle, frowning.

"Sorry, man," Eddie said softly.

He places his hand on Steve’s neck, still holding him in place, and presses his thumb against the wound. He pulled it off and looked at the blood on his thumb. He should have wiped off on his vest, but instead, he put his thumb in his mouth and sucked it off. Eddie smirked, noting the way Steve’s eyes darkened.

"Ew! Gross! Eddie, that's Steve’s blood! Are you a vampire?" Dustin asked and paused. "Wait, you aren't, are you?"

And later, when they're in the Upside Down and Steve is walking away from them, Eddie had to take his chance.

"Steve?" Eddie called out.

Steve turned around and looked at him with eyes so wide, so full of hope it nearly scared Eddie off. He moved forward, grabbed Steve, and pulled him into an urgent kiss. He didn't care that other people were watching. He smiled against his lips when Steve started to kiss him back. Eddie pulled back.

"Thanks," Eddie whispered.

"For the kiss?" Steve asked. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

"Well, for that too," Eddie said softly. "Thank you for waking me up."

"What does that mean?" He asked.

"I'll tell you all about it when you get back," Eddie said.

"Okay," Steve said softly.

"And Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Make him pay," Eddie said.

The next time that they saw each other, Eddie was waking up in a hospital, and Steve was looking at him while he was trying not to cry.

"I told you not to be cute," Steve sniffled.

"Sorry, couldn't help it," Eddie grinned.

Steve rolled his eyes before bending down to kiss him. Eddie could taste Steve’s salty tears. He was crying. . .over Eddie. Steve broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against his.

"Never scare us like that again," Steve whispered.

"Okay," Eddie croaked.

Steve sat back down and smirked at him as he took Eddie's hand in his.

"You promised to tell me something," Steve said. "It's later."

"What? Oh, right," Eddie blushed.

He proceeded to tell Steve all about his little moment in the gym, how he thought he hated Steve until he walked in on him and Tommy in the locker room. Turns out, it wasn't hate. When he was finished, Steve burst into laughter.

"I shouldn't laugh, I'm sorry," Steve said.

"Don't be, it's fucking hilarious. I was embarrassed then, but I can definitely laugh about it now," Eddie said. "Go ahead and laugh, big boy."

As Eddie watched him laugh, he couldn't be wonder. . .how in the ever loving fuck could he have ever possibly thought that he hated this man?

[maybege]

Pleasure

Summary: You get dared by your old school friends to ask a stranger to play with your tits.

Pairing: dad’s friend!Boba Fett x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 4.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Modern AU, older man/younger woman, implied age gap, alcohol consumption, sex with strangers, coming untouched, semi-public intimacy, dom!Boba, sub!Reader, nipple play, dirty talk, little bit of humiliation, Reader is not described but it is mentioned that she does not wear a bra at some point

Alrighty, alrighty. Okay, alright. Are we ready? Like are we really, truly, ready for this? This is obviously set in the dad’s friend!Boba AU which is more of a sandbox AU for me to play in. This is their first meeting (obv) and it is based on another idea I had and I thought it would fit perfectly. Please do let me know what you think and if you like it and if so, what you liked and all that good stuff! Maybe I will write another part or another story set in this AU.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

A year ago, you had never thought you would drown your sorrows at a house party of a person whose name you did not even know in the town you had grown up in with people you had not seen since high school. But here you were, drowning out your disappointment, your sadness and your frustration by the way of loud techno beats and unnaturally coloured alcohol.

“All right,” Marissa passed the hot pink shots she had gotten to you and Chants, though her eyes did not leave yours, “You want a dare?”

For a second you regretted ever having asked her for a dare (“Something to liven up the party,” you had said half-jokingly after the conversation with your two oldest high school friends had come to an awkwardly silent end) but then you also remembered the fun time you had with them in your childhood bedroom, prank calling the neighbours before playing fuck marry killer with the seniors at school.

That was an eternity ago now but it had all seemed to light then. Your happiness did not have an expiration date then and the dream to make it out of your small town by the lake and into the big cities of the opposite coast had kept you company every night.

You hadn’t known yet that your dream would fail.

“Ask any random person here to play with your tits.”

Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your face must have shown your shock at the task because her pink-coloured lips (a perfect match to her equally pink hair) pulled up in a mischievous grin. Marissa always had been the joker of your group, you should have known better than to think that the years would have changed anything about that.

“Marissa!” Chants gasped, “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, calm down,” she waved him off, “It’s not like she has to do it. But we're in a house full of strangers and stars know it's been ages since you got laid” – you hated how right she was about that – “So let’s not pretend like I'm not doing you a favour.”

“I’ll do it,” you heard yourself say, steel in your voice as you threw back the sickly sweet drink. There was nothing worse than the artificial strawberry flavour.

“It’s not like I know anyone here anyway,” you stated, looking around the giant living room you were standing in. The villa (because there was no other word to describe the building you were in) was absolutely packed with what seemed to be the entire party population of your town and the few surrounding beach towns as well. It was all stark white walls and cement floors and floor-length windows and furniture that looked more like art than actually something to sit on. Only the colourful lights and (several) mirror balls hued the entire space in ever-changing colours.

No wonder whoever lived here threw all these parties. The place must seem pretty depressing otherwise.

With encouraging whoop whoop!s and You can do it!s you left Marissa and Chants behind and wandered through the dancing, yelling, drinking crowd that took up the entire ground floor. Until you spotted a figure leaning against one of the doorways to the stairway.

Your feet changed your course until you stood in front of him. He was older than you, though certainly not the oldest guest in attendance. (That would be Chants’ 94-year-old grandmother who had a reputation for attending the best raves in the province.)

But what struck you most was how unbothered he looked. How in control. He was dressed in dark pants and a black button-up, his sleeves were rolled up too, revealing strong veiny forearms that had your eyes lingering longer than they should have. He held a glass in his hand and when his eyes landed on you, making your way towards him, you imagined that his grip twitched just the slightest bit.  

“Hi,” you said when you finally stood in front of him.

The main raised his eyebrows, “You lost there?”

You pressed your shoulders back, “No. You are the one

His lips lifted in a smirk and it took our breath away for a moment, how handsome he was, and your courage faltered. But you

“My friend dared me to ask someone to play with my tits.”

If your words caught him off guard, the man did not show it.

“So?” he smiled before taking a sip from the amber liquid, “That wasn’t a question.”

Was he really going to make you say it? Your ears burned with shame and something else as you looked at him. But he simply cocked his head as if to say I am waiting. And you somehow found that this was not a man you wanted to leave waiting.

Taking a deep breath, you asked, “Will you play with my tits?”

“No,” he said easily and finished his drink, “Congratulations, your dare is fulfilled.”

He turned to leave and you surprised yourself when your hand landed on his thick arm. He froze, as did you, and when his eyes met yours, it felt like a switch flipped in your head.

“No, wait, I –“ you paused, “I actually want it.”

His body faced yours again and stars was he broad as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. Stars what are you doing, trying to convince a man to touch you.”

“Ask me again, then, little one,” he rumbled and the pet name had your belly fluttering. Though maybe it was not your belly, maybe it was something else …  

“Will you play with my tits, please?” you added the last word quietly, your pulse thrumming as you avoided his eyes. The bass reverberated in your chest and you tried to even out your breathing. This was fine. Everything was fine.

For the first time since you started talking, his eyes left your face and roamed down your body. Over your tight jeans and the loose but not quite opaque top you had chosen to wear. You found yourself wanting to impress him, wanting to please him and you were almost completely sure he would reject you again when he opened his mouth.

“You really want that?”

You nodded, too shy, too embarrassed to say anything more. It had been ages since you had been touched and something about the way he held himself made you feel like he knew how to touch you.

“Good,” he rumbled, his voice dropping even lower and causing a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You watched as he set his glass down on the side table, “But not here out in the open.”

“No,” you shook your head, agreeing with him, though you were a little scared to admit that you would have let him. You would have let him pull you into a corner somewhere and strip you down to nothing and do anything he wanted to you. You would have let him expose you however he saw fit.

Stars, I really need to get laid.

The man brought his hand around you, settling it on your lower back as he led you away from the improvised dance floor. There were throngs of people everywhere but they grew sparser the higher up the stairs he led you. Until you arrived in a hallway that was completely abandoned save for a couple that seemed too busy to make out to notice you. And then he continues, leading you around a corner and suddenly you were alone and the lights were dim and the music only a muted sound in the background.

“Do you live here?” you asked, nervously looking around. What if someone caught you?

“No,” he said, his voice calm as his hand landed on your hip, “but I know the owner. No one will disturb us here.”

You nodded and took another deep breath. That sounded good. That sounded safe.  

“Do you still want this?

It but you were grateful. You nodded, your heart racing. And your pussy too.

“I need to hear words, little one,” he said with a crooked smile, still not touching you save for the hand on your hip that seemed to burn through the layers of clothes.

“Yes, I still want this.”

“Want what?”

Oh, now he was just teasing you!

“I want you to play with my tits, please.”

Shame and arousal had your cheeks burning but it was worth it when he hummed, his hand inching under the hem of your shirt. “Good girl.”

Oh.

Oh, that was new. That was lovely. That was something that had your eyes flutter and your pussy get surprisingly wet.

“You liked that,” he grunted, “You like praise.”

It was not a question and so you did not answer. The wet patch in your panties that grew by the second was answer enough. Though you could not shake the feeling that he liked you liking praise. Which made it all the better.

“Lift your shirt for me,” he instructed, tongue running over his lips, “You wear a bra?”

You nodded, your hands trembling as you lifted the soft fabric of your favourite going-out blouse. It was black and just the lightest bit sheer and breezy which made it the perfect sexy thing to wear in the warmer temperatures. The air wasn’t cold – it was the height of summer after all – but your nipples pebbled, still, beneath the lace of your bra.

Big hands reached for your tits, cupping them in his palms before lightly squeezing. His touches were softer, first, before they grew firm and had you squirming against the wall. Your breath got quicker already as you thought about the fact that you did not even know this man and he had you half-naked in the corridor of another stranger’s home.

A year ago, you never would have done something like that.

“Wh-What are you doing?” you whined when he still only squeezed your tits, his fingers gently digging into the soft flesh, “Why aren’t you touching me?”

“You asked me to play with your tits,” he replied steadily, his thumb rubbing over the lace that covered your nipple, “That is exactly what I am doing. Playing with your pretty tits.”

“Don’t you want me to take off my shirt?” you asked, confusion clear in your voice as you tried to shift your hands over your shoulders.

“Nah, little one,” he shook his head, a smile on his lips that made your breath hitch, “You are going to hold up your shirt for me. You want me to play with your tits, you got to do something for that, right?”

You nodded, chest heaving as you leaned your head back against the wall. “Right.”

The older man continued his ministrations, gently massaging your tits, pushing and pulling, making them bounce, teasing your nipples through the lace with the pads of his thumbs or his blunt fingernails. You had never been this turned on in your life.

His finger teased under the scalloped edge of your bra, the touch of his bare skin on yours driving you insane.

When he finally pulled down the cups of your bra, baring you to his eyes, you could have wept from relief. “Arch your back for me,” he murmured, sounding so focused and so in control. You did, doing your best to get your chest closer to his hands.

There was no shame now, now apprehension about what you were doing. This man seemed to know exactly what he was doing and you could not help but trust him.

“You have beautiful tits, you know that?” he asked casually as his fingers rolled your nipples, sending little pangs of pleasure through your entire body, “When was the last time somebody properly paid attention to you, hm?”

Too long ago.

And that was what you told him but he pulled your nipples sharply, “Specifics,” he instructed you lowly as you tried to keep your knees from buckling at the sheer sensation this man caused in you.

“Few – few months,” you tried to think feverishly, “Se-seven months. No, nine months.”

“Nine months,” he tsked, his thumb flicking over your pebbled nipple, “What a shame. What a waste. You deserve to have

Not knowing what to say to that, you simply leant into his touch. He expertly rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger before pulling on it ever so slightly, making you whimper. The mix of gentle and rough had you dizzy and wet and you swore none of your eyes had ever made you feel this way.

Stars you did not even know you could feel this way.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked.

Your eyes flew open and you looked at him in surprise. But the older man simply returned your gaze, never pausing in his ministrations and he seemed serious in his questions. He really wanted to touch you more.

 “Yes, please,” you nodded feebly, as if the way you were melting in his hands was not answer enough.

“Good girl,” he praised you again, a smirk on his face, “So polite.”

You squirmed, pressing your thighs together to get some sort of friction to your aching clit. He lowered his head to your chest, his warm breath washing over your skin and you whined, needing him more and more. But he did not let himself be rushed, no. His finger pulled on your nipple again until your whine turned into a gasp. Only then did he let you go and carefully closed his mouth around you. He sucked on you, ever so gently, with just a hint of teeth scraping over the sensitive flesh and you swore your vision went white for just a moment.

He must have noticed the way your entire body spasmed just for him because he pulled away, a glint in his eyes that told you he was far from done with you.

“I wonder if I can make you come just from this,” he murmured against your chest, “Just playing with you until your gorgeous pussy drips all on her own,” he lightly sucked on your nipple, “You want me to try?”

Speaking seemed like the last thing you would be capable of so you nodded, your heavy breaths echoing in the dark hallway.  

“Answer me with words, little one,” he admonished you, pinching your nipple tightly and another wave of wetness rushed down your legs. You wouldn’t be able to sit down anywhere today without leaving a wet patch, that was for sure.

“Yes,” you gasped out, “Please make me come.”

“With pleasure,” he grinned, “You just lean back and keep holding up your shirt for me, yeah? I will take care of the rest.”

And he did. He licked and sucked and pinched until you were a dripping, moaning mess. Your hips had a mind of their own as you started to move against him, trying to grind against the considerable bulge in his pants that had your mouth watering, but his hand was strong on your hip, pinning you back against the wall.

“You are going to come only from this,” he instructed darkly and you nodded. The yes sir almost slipping out of you. You felt like you were on cloud nine, floating above everyone and everything. The dim light, the loud bass that echoed throughout the house, hell, even the sound of partying people two stories below – it all added to the thrill of this stranger sucking on your tit while rolling your other nipple between his fingers.

It felt like you could not breathe, like your whole body was pulled taut with pleasure and he was the only one who could release you. Who could give you release.

“You are such a good girl for me,” he grunted in your ear, “I wish you could see yourself. Absolutely depraved right now. Presenting your tits for a man you don’t know anything about except that he is the one that is going to make you come.”

“I know you would have let me do this downstairs, too,” he added, “But here's the thing: I don’t share. And I don’t think any of these boys even deserve the sight of your pretty tits like this, now, do they?”

You shook your head. “Only you,” you mumbled feverishly, your fingers tightening their grip on the fabric, “Only you, sir.”

His groan was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. “That’s right,” he pressed a hard kiss against your neck, “Only I see you like this. Only I get to see how pretty you look when you come from this.”

For a moment, you debated telling him that you did not think you would come. That you were so turned on – more than ever before – and that what he did felt great but you were not sure if it would actually make you come. But then he bit down on your nipple and pulled the other one and your whole world reeled.

You came. You actually came.

And you did not stop coming for what felt like a solid two minutes. You were shaking, gasping, and at some point, you must have let go of your shirt because you were gripping his broad shoulders with all of your might as if they anchored you to gravity.

“Holy shit,” you brought out when you finally regained control of everything, “Holy fucking shit.”

The stranger had let go of your tits. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. Strange enough, this felt way more intimate than what you had done before but you could not bring yourself to worry. Not when he smelled so good and the post-orgasm fatigue set in.

“Good fucking girl,” he praised you, his eyes soft and warm as he looked you over, “Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded weakly and he pressed a kiss to your cheek before pulling away. You were still completely out of breath and your pussy pulsed when you saw him adjusting himself in his slacks. You wanted to touch him.

You wanted to be touched by him.

But you were scared, too. Shocked, mostly. At what you had just done. Had you really let a stranger just make you come in a house full of people?

“Let's get you some water,” he murmured as he helped you straighten out your clothes, “And then off to your friends you go.”

You nodded numbly, legs shaking and still unsteady on your feet. But he helped you, one hand on your lower back and the other supporting your arm as you made your way down the stairs. The louder the music got, the more you felt like you had just returned to reality from some sort of dream. Some perfect, delicious, very hot dream.

Returning to the living room turned dance floor, neither of you spoke and you simply accepted the glass of cool water he got you. “Drink it,” he instructed you softly, “And make sure you get home safe tonight.”

When you found Marissa and Chants again, you were still torn between pure shock at what you had just done and grief at not having asked him for his name.

*

Your nipples were sore the next day but you still would have done anything to have that man play with you again. Maybe you could have asked him to spend the night at his place, letting him fuck you seven ways ‘till Sunday. If he had made you come this hard just from playing with your chest, you wanted to find out what he could do if he had you all to himself for a whole night.

Still, you stayed in bed until well past noon, trying to avoid the reality that had seemed to be suspended for just a moment last night.  

It was unlike you and, to be honest, you were a little scared of your forwardness. Of your courage. But it had been rewarded in the best ways and finally, it felt like maybe you really could start fresh. Like maybe this was the moment you needed to gain back the trust in yourself.

You could do things!

You did not have to have everything figured out right now, you just needed the courage to somehow move forward.

And if you could ask a stranger for intimacy at a party, then moving forward seemed like no effort at all.

You skipped a bra, not wanting to subject your chest to more sensation than necessary, and instead opted for a long flowy summer dress and a light cardigan over top. It would give you some coverage, still, so it would not be awkward for your sister’s fiancée to face you.

Looking in the mirror, you felt like your new self. Like maybe you had needed yesterday to get back some of your courage, some of the spirit that had made the past year so fun before everything had just crumbled around you.

“Oh honey, there you are,” your mother greeted you as you came down the stairs, “You came home late last night. Was it a good party, then?”

You knew she was worried and you knew she tried her best to give you the privacy you needed. After all, you weren’t a child anymore. You were a grown woman who had to move back to her parents across the country after losing her job. It was an unfamiliar situation for you all and you appreciated her effort at making you feel like a roommate more than a child.

“It was,” you replied, grabbing a slice of fruit, “It was nice seeing some people from school again. It is like nothing changed.”

“Oh, you and your change,” she tutted good-naturedly, swatting your hand away as you reached for another slice of orange, “That’s for after lunch. It's almost ready.”

You glanced at the clock. “That’s early.”

“Your father has some friends over,” she explained, “From work. They’re going golfing this afternoon so I thought that is the perfect opportunity for an early lunch.”

Thank the stars for your father and his friends because you were starving.

“Go and say hi, honey,” she shooed you out of the kitchen and you smiled, your bare feet hitting the cold tiles of the hallway, “And you can tell them to set the table.”

You found your dad and his friends on the patio, soaking up the warm summer air.

“There you are, hon,” he greeted you with a smile and you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Hi, dad. Mom says lunch’s almost ready.”

“Ah,” he slapped his palms on his thighs before standing up, “You know what that means, boys! Time to set the table.”

One of your dad’s friends stood up. George, you remembered. He had lived down the street ever since you could remember and his kids were good friends with your sister. “It's been ages,” he said, a genuine smile on his face. “Look at how you’ve grown!”

You were pretty sure you hadn’t changed that much since graduating college but you were not about to correct him. He meant well, you knew.  

Your father paused, “Oh I am sorry. Everyone, this is my eldest daughter, fresh back from the other end of the world.”

You rolled your eyes. “Not the end of the world,” you corrected him gently, “Just the other side of the country.”

And what wouldn’t you give to be back there right now.

The men all chuckled and you paused when you heard a familiar voice. You ran your eyes over the mostly familiar faces, faces you had known since childhood or at least from the pictures your parents posted regularly on Facebook. Faintly you could hear your dad introduce them all again – George from accounting, of course, then there was Paul and Obi-Wan and James (an absolute perv as you and your sister had determined years ago) and not to forget Bail Organa.

But it was the newest face, the face that was supposed to be unfamiliar, that made your heart freeze for a scary few seconds before it started racing so fast you thought you might throw up.

“Boba Fett,” he said, holding out an all too familiar hand. A hand that had spent considerable time playing with your tits just last night.

“Boba is the CFO after the merger,” your dad introduced the man, “Recently moved here from – where was it again, Boba?”

“Tatooine,” he replied without taking his eyes off you.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you heard yourself say, his hand closing around yours. His grip was gentle but firm. And warm. You could feel the callouses on his fingertips, the ones that had made him playing with you so fucking delicious. Your nipples hardened under the soft fabric of your dress and you prayed that he did not notice.

“Believe me,” he smiled, though his eyes said so much more than the usual pleasantries when they fell to your chest for a fraction of a second, “The pleasure is all mine.”

[crownmemes]

Slow Horses Sentences, Vol. 2

(Sentences from Slow Horses (2022-). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"I think we both know these kind of conversations are not my forte."

"When an agent dies, every scenario has to be considered."

"The reason I picked you is because I thought you were the only one of my team with a decent pair of bollocks. Obviously I was wrong."

"Basic field training would tell you that social drinking is an easy way of softening up a target."

"You're asking me to give you something that could be used against the Secret Service?"

"Scurry back behind your desk. You're too naive for this work."

"If you're going to talk this big, you need to get a better suit."

"Shut up, or I shoot you in the mouth!"

"I'm reluctantly impressed."

"I can't believe that this is happening again!"

"You can call me whatever you like. My real name is buried."

"I'm going to put the kettle on, and you can tell me who I just killed."

"Why don't we take off this weekend? Head down the coast?"

"You can push things away, but sooner or later, you have to deal with them."

"Secrets will always come out. There will always be a reckoning."

"Can you just think before you speak... And then perhaps not speak?"

"You just help yourself to people's ice cream, do you?"

"You're only making these dumb suggestions because you don't want to admit that you may have fucked up."

"If you hurt her, you know I'll kill you."

"You're the only person who can pull this off."

"Look, I get the impression sometimes that you don't like me."

"I'd like to see you eaten feet first by pigs."

"You are the bane of my career!"

"I know you think I'm a dick. I am - but probably not as much of a dick as you think."

"I hate to judge a person by their name alone, but he sounds like an absolute ponce."

"What is this place? Safe houses are usually empty and impersonal. This house feels lived in."

"You know, whatever issues that you clearly have, maybe you should just talk to someone? Because based on this, I don't think that violence is making you happy."

"Oh my god, you're so pathetic."

"I've tried the carrot. Do you want me to get out the stick?"

"I don't know why you're doing this, and I don't care - but I want it to stop!"

"Make this quick; I've got underlings to bully."

"God, your ego is such a blind spot."

"Sorry, since when did you start keeping a gun in the office?"

"I'm sorry, but this tea isn't strong enough. I could tell just by the look of it, but I was trying to be polite."

"Rather than just standing there, why don't you help?"

"Please do not stress me because I do not react well with stress!"

"That sounds like I shouldn't know that, so just forget I said it."