#I'm saying AU but this is a total one off i don't even plan on looking back on (watch me eat my words and become obsessed with it or smth..) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gureumz · 1 year ago

Text

oh, you're the girl?

like a freak, like a g [installment 2]

rating: explicit

member: heeseung

premise: news travels fast in the frat house. and so do your bedroom noises, apparently. if you wanna sleep your way through the frat, it might be best to keep it down. or don't.

notes: fem!reader, greek life!au, university!au, dom!heeseung, unprotected sex, dirty talk, degradation, breeding, slight begging, mentions of stealing reader from jake, mentions of drugs

a/n: second installment of the 'sleeping around the frat house' series! and so the drama begins. don't worry if jake's installment is shorter than this, he will be coming back in the future installments heh. in the meantime, enjoy your stay with heeseung ;) *divider by cafekitsune

it's fucking horrendous how much the frat house reeks of weed tonight. you're surprised cops aren't banging the door down at this very moment as you're sure the stench has at least a 1-kilometer radius from its point of origin.

the music rings loud in your ears as you shuffle through the crowd of people hollering at the beer pong game in the living room. you bite your tongue when you feel a girl jam her elbow into your side, not even an apology or at least an apologetic glance given your way.

you sigh, trudging on, eyes scanning the faces of the people around you.

jake did say there was going to be a party tonight and that you're welcome to seek refuge in his room while people rage downstairs. but you have needs and one of those is food, and while you would prefer to not have the smell of cannabis sticking to your clothes, you are hungry. the last meal you had was the lunch jake ordered for the two of you nearly twelve hours ago.

you vaguely remember jake getting up to shower roughly an hour after the two of you finished what must have been your third round. that's when he told you about the party. you hummed dismissively, planning to leave even before the party starts.

but apparently, jake must have fucked you real good, because you knocked out for hours after you drifted off to sleep at the sound of jake's soft humming in the shower.

so here you are, scouring the party for your technically-not-boyfriend, wanting nothing more than to see a familiar face.

you reach the kitchen. no jake.

you peek through the window to look at the front yard. still no sign of jake.

you stumble out into the backyard and see that of course, it's a pool party, with about fifteen people crowding inside the water, spilling beer everywhere. because drunk and high college students around bodies of water are totally safe and fine.

you're about to storm back inside the house when you feel a warm presence materialize behind you.

you squeak in surprise when you find yourself face to face with one of jake's friends, his broad frame seemingly shrinking you in comparison as he eyes you down. you've seen him a few times before as his room is next to jake's. but you cannot for the life of you remember his name.

"are you okay?" he asks. his voice is smooth and clear, indicating that he's probably not as inebriated as everyone else.

"yeah, i'm just looking for jake," you explain. "you don't happen to know where he is, do you?"

the friend smiles, eyes flicking up and down briefly over your body.

"oh, you're that girl. the one jake fucks around with," he says, as if stating a well-known fact and not a semi-personal detail of your life.

your cheeks heat up as you nervously glance around to see if anyone's close enough to overhear.

jake's friend laughs, nudging your arm playfully.

"i don't know how to tell you this but there's no point in keeping it a secret. everyone in the house is well-acquainted with your...noises," he says, winking.

you huff, crossing your arms over your chest.

"yeah, well, do you know where jake is?" you press on, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"he's off buying more booze," the friend states. "he just left, actually."

a twinge of annoyance tugs at your chest. he leaves you in his room and not even a text to tell you where he's going?

"you can stay with me for a bit," the friend offers. you study his face and he smiles, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

"we can crash in my room," he adds, thumb jerking upward towards the direction of the house's second story.

you sigh, the beginnings of a headache creeping up behind your eyes.

"sure, yeah, i guess."

he smiles holding his hand out to you. you take it and let him lead you through the party. as you exit the kitchen and re-enter the living room, it seems as if the number of people have doubled, jostling you about and nearly knocking you off your feet. you feel jake's friend wrap an arm protectively around your waist, tugging you along towards the stairs.

he doesn't let go until you're right in front of his door.

the name 'heeseung' is spelled out in those small felt letters, the ones used for scrapbooking, stuck smack dab in the middle of the door.

'cute,' you think as you chuckle quietly to yourself.

"what's so funny?" heeseung asks, a playful look on his face. he swings the door open and motions for you to enter.

you shake your head. "nothing. the name on the door is just very middle school."

heeseung laughs, following you as you step inside the dimly lit room. a sunset lamp is turned on in the corner, casting faint shades of yellow, orange, and hints of purple and pink on the walls.

"it helps when the others drunkenly drag girls up here during these parties," heeseung explains. "you'd be surprised at how they forget which room is even theirs when they've had enough to drink."

you giggle, plopping yourself down on heeseung's bed.

"wait—are you the one that i'm hearing about lately? the girl that's trying to sleep her way around the frat?"

your smile fades as you remember the conversation you've had a week ago with jake. or more appropriately, the challenge jake sprung up on you that you so recklessly accepted.

"uh...," you begin, avoiding heeseung's eyes.

"yeah," you finish simply, shrugging. what else is there to say?

heeseung grins, clearly amused. he keeps his eyes on you as he empties his jean pockets of things, setting them down on his desk. keys, a wallet, a square foil wrapper—oh, wait—two square foil wrappers and—

"why do you have so many condoms?" you ask in mild disbelief.

"i'm director of operations, which just means i manage the house and make sure no one comes home one day with a baby," heeseung rattles off, picking up one of the condoms and brandishing it at you.

"hence, the condoms."

he points to a drawer in his desk. "there are two more boxes there. no frat babies on my watch."

you afford yourself a laugh. heeseung smiles along, stretching his lithe body out. your eyes observe the shift of his muscles under his shirt, the curve of his ass in his jeans, and the way his hair falls messily into his eyes.

heeseung groans in satisfaction and you rip your eyes away from his pecs.

"so, director of operations...," you say, raising a brow at heeseung.

"ah, jake did mention you were narrowing your, er, conquest to the executive committee," heeseung muses as he makes his way to you.

you crane your neck up at him and from this angle, you can easily lean forward, undo his belt, unbutton his pants, and—

"that's five more people to go through, including me," heeseung says with a grin. "you sure you can handle that?"

you scoff, shaking your head. "i really hate it when people underestimate me."

"i'm not underestimating you, sweetheart," heeseung denies, holding his hands up as if in apology. "i'm just wondering if you know what you're getting into."

you cock your head to the side, eyebrows knit together.

"jake might be willing to share, but the others?" heeseung stops there, whistling lowly.

you think about it for a moment. six guys, some you haven't even met yet. unknown kinks and fantasies. uncharted territories. he's right. what have you gotten yourself into?

"also, just a side note, we get tested every three months," heeseung says, pulling you out of your thoughts. "it's an initiative i started. we just had our last test the other week and everyone was clean."

you nod along, admittedly impressed.

"you're very efficient as the director of operations, heeseung," you compliment. a bashful smile spreads on his lips.

"thank you," he says, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"i'm efficient in a lot of other things, too."

you swallow. you can see where this is going. you know heeseung locked the door earlier, and the show of condoms wasn't an accident, either. it's dark in this room but you know the look in heeseung's eyes.

your first actual conquest in your mission to see if you could sleep your way through the frat.

"really?" you ask, trying to stretch out the inevitable limbo, the in-between, the not-knowing of whether you're permitted to move to the next level.

"and what might those other things be?" you add.

heeseung laughs, sounding exasperated. he leans down and you back up, scooting further up his bed. heeseung plants one knee on the mattress, his arms on either side of your legs. he's not trapping you in. not yet, at least.

at this point, it's anyone's game.

"baby, let's just do what we came here to do."

that easy, huh?

turns out yes, it's that easy. because your legs are parting and heeseung is sinking between them, one hand reaching out to hold your face steady. his other arm braces against the headboard as he finally cages you in between the wall and his broad frame.

heeseung kisses you, rough and spontaneous and intense. you groan against his lips, your hands laying gently on his neck. you can feel his pulse and his heart is absolutely racing.

"come here," heeseung mutters, pulling you forward. he pulls you over himself as he sits back, your legs on either side of his thighs as you straddle him.

"say 'red' if you want to stop, okay?" heeseung whispers, a hand smoothing up your back.

you nod, perching yourself on heeseung's lap, resuming your assault on his lips. you bite down gently on his lower lip and he moans, nails digging into your sides.

you're about to lose your damn mind.

"fuck," you whisper as you feel heeseung roll his hips up against your core. he smirks, his mouth working its way down from your jaw to your neck.

"don't hold back on me now, baby," heesueng coos. he pulls back and looks at you, tucking your hair behind your ear. "i hear you every time you're next door in jake's room. wanna hear you do the same for me."

you bite your lip, your whole body heating up now that you're confronted with just how loud you are.

"come on," heeseung urges, pushing your shirt over your chest. you wordlessly put your hands up, letting heeseung tug the garment off you.

heeseung reaches behind you and snaps your bra open in a second. you shiver as you feel him pull your bra off.

he must have done this a thousand times before.

you let out a breath as heeseung dips his head, lips capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. his hair tickles at your chin and you can smell the faint scent of his shampoo. you smooth your fingers through his silver locks, tugging lightly when you feel him bite down.

"i'm not hearing you," heesueng mumbles between your mounds, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin. his fingers reach for your other nipple and he pinches down, hard.

that's when you let out a shriek of surprise, grip tightening in heeseung's hair. he hums, sucking on one spot right in the middle of your sternum.

no low necklines for you any time soon. or maybe you'll wear them, anyway. see what jake has to say about the hickey his friend left on you.

heeseung slides you off him, guiding you down onto his bed. he taps your hip.

"off," he says curtly, referring to your jeans. heeseung pulls back and gives you the space to tug off your pants, his own hands frantically pulling off his own clothing.

a minute later, the two of you are left in nothing but your underwear.

heeseung takes ahold of your thighs, spreading your legs wider. you hear him breathe in as he eyes your core.

"you're such a nasty whore," heeseung says abruptly, his hand coming down to slap your pussy. you gasp, lurching forward in surprise.

heeseung presses a hand on your stomach, applying the smallest amount of pressure. it's a warning. stay still.

"getting wet at the idea of fucking your boyfriend's friends," heeseung sneers, smacking your sensitive mound again over your panties. you whimper, shaking your head.

"n-not my boyfriend," you sniffle. "he's n-not."

"still," heeseung responds. another loud smack. harder this time.

"what kind of person lets a whole frat house slut them out? a dirty fucking whore, that's what."

you feel tears prickle at your eyes as heeseung lands a few more slaps on your aching pussy. you're drenched at this point, making a mess for sure on heeseung's sheets.

heeseung practically yanks your panties off, revealing your glistening cunt. he licks his lips, the pads of his fingers pushing lightly against the relative area of your clit.

your back arches slightly off the bed. your whole body seems to shake of oversensitivity.

heeseung hurriedly discards of his own boxers and your mouth instantly waters as you're greeted with the sight of his cock, long and girthy, tapering off perfectly toward the tip.

heeseung props your legs open, aligning himself with your entrance. your eyes meet and you look at him, confused.

"what happened to your whole 'director of operations and no frat babies under my watch' spiel?" you ask.

heeseung snickers. "i'm a bit of a hypocrite, baby."

he pauses, studying your expression and waiting for you to say something. the safe word. your teeth worry at your bottom lip but you nod.

"go ahead," you whisper.

heeseung nods as well, pressing himself against your leaking entrance. your mouth falls open as heeseung manages to squeeze in half of himself in you. he pauses, planting his hands firmly on your hips. he pushes all the way in, pulling you down on him at the same time.

you both gasp.

"oh fuck," heeseung curses. you clench down on him and he grunts.

heeseung starts to move, and if there's one thing you know about him by now, it's that he wastes no time. he's ramming into you relentlessly after only a minute, your head spinning as your mind tries to catch up with your body.

he feels good stretching you out like this, that's for sure. your pussy squelches each time heeseung pushes in, proof of just how wet you are for him.

you're moaning uncontrollably now, heeseung's hips snapping up against yours. looking at him, his forehead creased, eyes squeezed shut, it dawns on you what you've started.

if all the other guys on the executive committee would look just as good as heeseung does right at this moment, buried to the hilt in your cunt, then maybe you are a nasty whore.

"heeseung, heeseung, heseeung!" you cry out, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through your body.

heeseung leans down to press his lips messily onto yours. tongue and teeth and spit greet you as you kiss him back. you wrap your legs tightly around heeseung's hips and he lets his eyes roll into the back of his head.

"baby, oh god," he says, pressing his forehead against yours.

"you think jake will mind if i cum inside this pussy?" heeseung whispers, his breath ghosting over your face.

you can't help it. you moan out like a cockhungry slut at heeseung's words.

"please," you beg. "need your cum, need it inside me."

heeseung chuckles darkly, pulling away slightly. "you need it? gonna go around and tell my brothers that you need their cum too?"

you shake your head, though you're unsure why you're doing this because you know heeseung's right. maybe at this point, you've truly gone dumb over cock. heeseung's cock.

"no, no," you protest. "n-need your cum now. need it, want it so bad."

heeseung wraps his arms around you, pressing your bodies close together. he buries his face in your neck as he continues to fuck into you shallowly. your belly tightens as your own release approaches. the friction of heeseung's abs against your clit pushing you closer and closer.

"gonna cum," heeseung warns. "gonna cum inside this pussy, god—"

you feel heeseung twitch inside you and a final drag of his toned abdomen over your nub sends you over the edge. you tighten your hold around heeseung as you sob onto his shoulder.

the two of you lay still for a few moments, breathing heavily. you hold each other close for another minute before heeseung pushes himself off you, sweeping his sweaty hair back.

he grins down at you before kissing you lightly.

"i might need to steal you from jake after this," heeseung jokes as he slowly pulls out of you. he grabs a towel hanging off his desk chair, holding it between your legs.

you laugh weakly, your head lolling to one side as you feel exhaustion wash over you.

heeseung plops down beside you, arms automatically winding around your midsection. "you can stay here for tonight."

you hum in contentment, snuggling up to heeseung.

---

jake is frantic as his call is unanswered for the fifth time. where the fuck are you?

the party has mostly died down by now and he thought you probably had gone home. that's when he started calling. two missed calls. no problem. you weren't a phone call type of person, anyway.

he asked everyone who he thought might know you at this party about your whereabouts and if they saw you leave or not, but no one seemed to know where you wandered off.

hence, five more missed calls.

"you alright?"

jake looks up from his phone to see sunoo dragging a plastic bag behind him, halfheartedly picking up stray cups and chucking them into the bag.

"it's ______. she's not answering," jake complains, pressing the 'call' button once more.

"oh her," sunoo says with a knowing smile. "i saw her with heeseung a few hours ago. they haven't gone back down since."

jake pauses, immediately ending the call. he sighs, half wanting to laugh and half wanting to punch himself.

so, it's started. alright, then.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung scenarios #w: heeseung

1K notes · View notes

jasmineoolongtea · 5 months ago

Text

coffee jelly and parfait ― chapter 1: caramel pudding

pairing: bodyguard!toji x baker!reader (f), toji is 38, reader is 22

summary: after working towards and succeding in accomplishing your lifelong dream working for one of the most famous bakeries in tokyo, you decide to go out for a night of celebratory drinking. however, the next morning, you wake up and find out that you're now married to a total stranger and an older one at that! but, turns out, this accidental marriage of yours might be more useful than you think.

contents: a sesame salt and pudding!au, age gap relationship (16 years - everyone is completely legal here!!!), marriage of convenience/accidental marriage, fluff, angst, slice of life, nicknames (toji is referred to as ossan by reader which is an informal way of referring to a middle-aged man in Japanese and this is taken directly from the manga inspo behind this)

warnings: drinking/alcohol, smoking (from toji)

word count: 3.9k words (much beefer than i was expecting ngl)

extras:

⤷ mood board/pinterest board

a/n: ahhh i'm so excited to finally be able to work on this series since it's been workshopping in the back of my mind for a while shdhahwj hope you guys enjoy this and hope you have an amazing day/night !!! sorry that this chapter is so exposition-heavy rip djasd, i promise later chapters will get better. as always, any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <333

It's normal for weird things to happen after a night of heavy drinking, right?

You've heard all sorts of stories from your friends and family about the strange antics drunk people get up to once they get a certain amount of liquor running through their veins. It can range from small silly things like trying out a new skill in public due to a sudden burst of newfound confidence to more extreme ones like running away from an angry mob of people that you've accidentally incited somehow. Despite the difference in their severity, the common thread here remains: all are mostly harmless things and nothing that is possibly life-changing.

Much to your dismay, however, you seem to be the outlier in all those cases. Actually, it appears to be that you've managed to outdo almost everyone this time as this one definitely has to take the cake right here or whatever award they give out for things like this.

This morning, as you wake up and open your bedroom door, you suddenly find yourself face to face with a complete stranger, who very much appears to be an older guy, standing right outside in your apartment.

And to top off this already weird trajectory of events, as if things could not possibly get even stranger, it also turns out that you've apparently married said stranger last night.

...What!?!

To say that your memory of last night is hazy would be a massive understatement in all senses of the word. But what you do remember clearly is the reason why you went drinking in the first place, which was to congratulate yourself for finally achieving your lifelong dream up to this point.

After years of blood, sweat and tears spent at the Tsuji Culinary School where you fought with tooth, fist and nails against hundreds of other culinary hopefuls to win the highly coveted and only place available for the exchange programme to Le Cordon Bleu institute in France, your suffering was not all for nought as on your glorious return back to Japan, you've managed to land your dream job of working at one of Tokyo's most famous bakeries, Pierre Hermé.

If that was not a perfect reason to celebrate and drink the night away completely carefree then you don't know what was.

However, there was one tiny little snag in your plans for a joyous night out. The moment that you returned home to give your roommate the good news, still trying to come down from the high of hearing the good news, it seemed that she apparently also had a similar genius idea of her own and decided to inform you that she was leaving you to search for somewhere else to live closer to her job.

For most people, that wouldn't be a problem as they could just be able to leisurely search for a new roommate at their own pace. But for you, this was not the case as you were facing a different set of circumstances. For you, your move to Tokyo was entirely conditional on the fact that would stay with someone and this was explicitly set and outlined by your dad. Now roommate-less, you suddenly had a ticking expiry date placed on all your ambitions that you had barely scratched the surface of by this point.

This was probably the worst case of whiplash you've ever had, going from an extreme high to an extreme low all in the span of less than 10 minutes. Unfortunately, it seemed that the odds were very much not in your favour. But how could you let that waver your resolve? If you had learned anything from your years of existing is that you weren't going to give up and relent that easily.

So, in actuality, it was somewhat a lie that you were only out drinking for one reason. In reality, it was for two reasons; one, to congratulate yourself on achieving your dreams and two, to try and forget your newfound problem through the power of alcohol. And this was how you found yourself complaining to a bunch of strangers at a local izakaya, surrounded by several empty pints of beer.

A loud drunken sob echoes through the small confines of the bar which is accompanied by the thud of an empty glass cup slamming against the wooden countertop of the bar.

"It isn't fair at all! Do you know how hard I've worked to get here? I've basically given up everything for this and now it's going to all disappear?" You bemoan out loud to whoever's around you, signalling to the barkeep to fill up another pint for you as you're clearly intent on accomplishing your plan of drinking away your problems.

There's a lady and her boyfriend, whose face you can't really remember or recall in any particular detail, sitting next to you on your right trying to comfort you with sympathetic coos and awkward back pats. While they're trying their best to comfort you, or as best as drunk people can, their efforts are seemingly in vain as you can only sigh in defeat at your current predicament.

Taking another swig of the freshly poured pint, you continue on your rant. "And you know, my dad is only letting me stay in Tokyo if I either have a roommate or if I'm married even if I'm happy here as is!"

The lady nods in an empathetic manner as if to say she's gone through the same thing as well, commenting, "My dad's the same way as well, he's kinda old-fashioned when it comes to stuff like this and it's awful."

"If only alcohol could cure problems like this," You muse. "My roommate and I used to come here all the time and everyone we met here is always so nice."

At your praise of the other bar patrons, there's a murmur of agreement and cheers from all around. The frothy foam of your drink has bubbled down by now but as you stare into the half-drunk glass, you're suddenly hit with an outrageous idea. "Hey, what if I get married to one of you guys tonight, right here right now?"

Boisterous laughter immediately erupts at your words. One dishevelled salary man from the other side of the bar jokingly remarks, "If you do that, you won't even be wanted back home!"

However, once the laughter dies down there's a genuine pause from everyone, including yourself, as if you all were genuinely considering carrying out this ridiculous and definitely impractical idea. Following the brief silence, the other patrons turn to their neighbours and begin to talk and discuss amongst themselves, their heads swivelling left and right in what seems to be an attempt to size up and judge the men at the bar as potential candidates.

"I'm already married to a wife I love dearly so I'm going to have to turn down that offer." Announces a middle-aged man from opposite you, with other similar comments and statements soon chiming in to eliminate themselves from the running based on a variety of different reasons.

Before the lady's boyfriend can even open his mouth to volunteer himself, she sends a withering look and an accusatory finger his way as she warns him, "Don't even think about it." At her stern warning, he quickly sinks back down into his seat.

An elderly man sighs wistfully to himself. "Ha, maybe if I was 20 years younger..." He then turns to his side, nudging the guy next to him with his elbow to get his attention before asking him. "Hey, what about you?"

You can't really see the other man's face since he's pretty much on the other side of the long table and your vision might have been slightly hazy on account of all the alcohol flowing through your system at this point, though you hear his gruff voice ring out as he shrugs his built shoulders and responds, "Me? 'M single I guess."

From all the other voices you've heard tonight, you don't recognise his, guessing that he might have been relatively silent throughout most of the conversation. Although you can't see much of him, you notice even sitting down, he's about two heads taller than those around him and his broad shoulders and well-built physique are accentuated by the tight-fitting black shirt he's wearing. God, it looks like he's basically vacuumed and sealed into that thing as the fabric shifts with every flex of his muscles.

Maybe it's the dim lighting of the izakaya but you're sure you catch a brilliant flash of green from across the table looking you up and down with vague curiosity and interest. You think to yourself, he doesn't look half bad.

Suddenly filled with a renewed sense of energy, or rather you're getting to the point on your drunkness scale where you feel comfortable enough to throw logic out of the window, you leap up from your seat and point at the man as you shout at the top of your lungs,

"Alright, you in the black shirt! Let's get married!"

After hearing your declaration, the lady starts to furiously flip the magazine in front of her until it lands on a certain page before picking it up and showing it to the others. "Hey, look! This magazine I bought has a marriage registration form at the back."

"What an amazing coincidence." Someone mutters from beside you with a few other voices soon relaying their own hums of agreement.

"We can all be witnesses! Come on and sign it!"

Chants of "Sign it." start to fill up the bar as the other patrons begin to cheer you two on like a crowd at a live stadium sports match from the sidelines of their seats. The moment your pen clatters against the floor, the crowd bursts out into celebratory shouts and cheers, with that being the extent of your memories of last night with whatever after it fading into black.

Now back in the present, you feel your face start to burn with a renewed sense of embarrassment as memories and small recollections of last night start to flood your mind. Any chance of even possibly denying the events of last night goes out the window as turns out, your drunk self decided that it was the perfect opportunity to apparently take a commemorative photo of the event with the marriage license at the dead of centre of it, your names unmistakably written on there in bold.

As you examine the form, still slightly gobsmacked, you spot his name next to yours. Fushiguro Toji, huh? You think quietly to yourself, his name sounds kind of nice. But before you can find yourself getting lost in thought, a husky voice snaps you back into reality.

"Now, do'ya remember?" The man, or Toji as that's what appears to be his name, quirks an inquisitive eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain how you ended up in my apartment." Eyeing him up and down, you pause for a second as you take in your equally dishevelled appearances, something suddenly clicking in your head as your overactive mind begins to draw its own conclusions about what happened after the events of the izakaya. "Oh no. Di-did we..?" You gesture frantically at the two of you, hoping that he understands what you're implying with your question.

Toji shakes his head, a slightly irritated or perhaps even amused sigh leaving his lips, you're not sure. "No. Yer insisted that you should take me home since I mentioned that I didn't really have a place to stay for the night."

A sigh of relief escapes you.

You take this time to now fully examine him since you didn't get much of a chance last night, or rather you had forgotten all about it. There's an unquestionably intimidating aura about him with his shaggy black hair, incredibly muscular physique and piercing emerald green eyes that look like they could kill a man where he stood with a single stare. His all-black clothing and what appears to be a vertical scar situated on the right corner of his lips do him no favours to make him look less like a gangster straight out of an action movie.

Although there aren't the typical tell-tale signs of ageing on him like obvious wrinkles or a head of grey hairs, there's a faint imprint of more permanent creases starting to form in the middle of his brows and if you look closely enough, you might even notice some small sprinkles of white starting to pop up amidst the rest of his raven locks. This all points to the fact that he's definitely older than you but you're unsure by how much from your initial assessment of him, probably at least ten years older than give or take.

Though, besides this outright menacing factor to him, you can't help but admit that he's also strikingly handsome in a rugged way. You realise that you might have been caught staring at him for too long when he clears his throat and gives you a pointed glance with those sharp green eyes. Just having his gaze on you is enough to send a tingling sensation down your spine.

Deciding to brush it off, he huffs to himself as he leans his weight against the white walls of your apartment. "It's probably too late to cancel it since we already signed and submitted it last night so the only option we have now is to divorce."

He fishes around in the pockets of his pants and produces an already half-empty and slightly crumpled cigarette box. Before taking one out, he turns towards you and silently asks for your permission with a tilt of his head. You nod at him, expecting him to crank open one of your windows to smoke but instead, he walks towards your kitchen and turns on your kitchen hood. Curiously, you follow behind him and see him use a dingy lighter to light up the cigarette, the pale glow of the flame illuminating the harsh lines of his features, as he takes a deep puff of it before blowing the smoke up the hood.

So he's a kitchen smoker, huh? Obviously, you want to know how he's developed this peculiar habit but you decide to bite your tongue for now as there are more pressing issues on hand such as the undeniable elephant in the room.

There's a brief moment of silence before Toji starts speaking again. "Y'know, I kinda feel bad for last night 'cause you're going to be a divorcee so young."

"Hey! I'm not that young you know, Ossan!" You protest in return, crossing your arms over your chest in a slightly childish display of annoyance. That earns you what sounds like a breathy laugh from him as one corner of his lips tilts upwards in a somewhat crooked manner.

"Oh yeah? Then how old are ya?" There's a teasing lilt to his voice, almost as if he's slightly amused by your antics.

You huff. "22. What about you?"

"You really can't remember much from last night huh? I'm 38." If he's 38 then that means there's a 16-year age difference between you two. Not the worst-case scenario that could happen when it comes to marrying a complete stranger by accident, you think to yourself.

It seems that your apparent lack of reaction, only giving out a half-hearted hmm, to finding out his age is surprising to him. If he was going to be honest, he wasn't ruling out that you might have started bolting out of your apartment at the mention of it and in that case, he wouldn't blame you.

You state, "Besides, you're not the only one to blame here. It's on me as well since we both signed it. So don't feel bad. We'll get it taken care of as soon as possible." You send a reassuring smile his way, waving off his concerns with an easy-going wave of your wrist. For some reason, he feels like he might even believe your assurance for a second.

Much to your public embarrassment your stomach starts to grumble loudly with what some might say is impeccable comedic timing. "Or well, as soon as I get some food." You comment bashfully, your previously carefree attitude fading away relatively quickly as a new priority has emerged.

As you make the move towards your fridge, you look over at him from your shoulder as you ask, "Oh right. Do you want something as well? I don't really cook meals that often so all I have in my kitchen is basically just baking ingredients."

Toji does a quick look around the kitchen, examining the clear state of mess and disarray that it's in and scoffs offhandedly to himself. "Didn't realise you could call this mess a kitchen."

"In my defence, my roommate used to do all the cooking and cleaning whilst I mainly covered the bills." You point back at him, a wooden spoon in hand as you wave at him warningly.

"What happened to them then?"

"Oh, you know, suddenly deciding to move closer to work even though your roommate has already paid the lease for the year for two people and stuff like that." There's an edge of annoyance to your tone, clearly, you're still annoyed at your roommate for putting you in this predicament, but Toji decides not to comment on it.

After watching you struggle to turn on your gas stove for what seems to be like the tenth time in the span of 2 minutes, a loud sigh of exasperation escapes him as he places his calloused hand on top of yours. stopping you in your tracks. "Come on, just let me do it." He states. As he moves closer to the kitchen counter, his body is positioned so close to your left side that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

He starts to busy himself with various ingredients as it seems that he's now begrudgingly taken over cooking duties from you, no protests from your side by the way. Before you go to take your seat at the kitchen table, you hear him mumble under his breath. "Can't believe you have the time to go out and get drunk and not even to clean your place."

"Hey." You turn around to face him once again, your voice stern. "You don't know me, alright? I wanna stay in Tokyo because I just got my dream job and I'm not planning on leaving any time soon."

"...Yer job? What d'you do?"

"I'm a baker. Have you ever heard of the bakery, Pierre Hermé?"

He pauses, bringing a finger up to his chin as if deep in thought. "Think 've walked past it a few times. Why?"

There's a renewed sense of excitement to you, passion very much evident in both your words and expression as you launch into an animated spiel at his question. "It's one of the top bakeries in Tokyo and I've spent my whole life working towards being able to get a job there." You look out at the window, quietly contemplating and contrasting the crowded and bustling streets and skyline of Tokyo with the sleepy and relatively isolated atmosphere of your hometown.

"Back in my home town, there isn't really much opportunity to work somewhere like this, especially since it's a foreign bakery specialising in French pastries so this is basically my only chance to fulfil my dreams." You can't help but let a wistful sigh leave your lips, thinking about how hard you've fought to get to this point now. Unbeknownst to you, Toji suddenly sits up straighter, his back pressed against the cool ceramic countertops as he stares at you, seemingly studying you in a new light after your words. Before you can realise it though, he quickly adverts his gaze elsewhere, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"What about you?" You ask him, a sense of interest clearly present in your voice. For someone like him, you don't even know where to really begin when it comes to guessing what a guy like him could do for a living as it could range from semi-realistic to wildly fantastical like straight out of a TV show.

"...I'm a bodyguard for hire." Compared to you though, his tone is devoid of the same energy and passion present in yours with him even pausing slightly before answering, as if he was hesitant to reveal this aspect about himself.

"Wow, that's cool." There's a small sense of awe at his response. Being a bodyguard would definitely explain that muscular physique of his, you remark quietly to yourself.

A tsk sound escapes him at your comment, shrugging it off with his shoulders as he turns to the side. "All I care is that it pays well. Nothin' more."

You deflate a little at his words. To you, he sounds more begrudging than anything and you think that there's probably a story behind that as well, like many other things about him like that lip scar of his, but you choose to avoid prodding him even further as well in his defence, you've technically just met each other last night. All of a sudden, you're hit with an idea, a crazy idea just like last night, but this time now sober, and it might just be crazy enough to work or you two might just be desperate enough to make it work. You clear your throat before you call out to him.

"Hey, Ossan." Toji looks back at you, and clearly, you've managed to pique his curiosity by the amused expression present on his face. If you were a lesser person, you might have shrunk under the intensity of his gaze so intently trained on you but you don't, there's too much of your future dream riding on this now for you to back out before anything could have even begun. You look into his eyes, maintaining eye contact before you continue. "I have an idea, actually, it's more of a request. The next time I go back home to visit my parents, can you come with me as my husband? If I'm married to someone who lives in Tokyo, my dad can't tell me to move home anymore and he'll definitely believe that it's real once he sees your name on the official family register."

Before he can even say no or offer any protest of his own, you add, "Plus, this deal will be beneficial to you as well since you'll get a place to live until you get your own apartment. So, let's hold off on the divorce until then."

There's a hopeful look in your eyes with a look of determination painted on your features. Evidently, even without his input, it appears to be that you're dead set on this plan if it means you get the slightest chance of staying here. He contemplates a future where he says no, imagining another week of being forced to couch surf on his boss's stale office couch and living in a constant state of uncertainty for who knows how long. Sure, it's not like he's so sure about what going to happen now but at least if he agrees to this, he's not alone in dealing with whatever uncertainty is thrown his way.

He shakes his head, stubbing out the burnt end of his cigarette in the sink and takes your hand in his.

"Alright fine, yer got a deal."

taglist: @catobsessedlady , @aluvrina , @thulhu , @sn1perz , @meowmeew , @hprnx , @r0ckst4rjk , @dianakisses , @lashaemorow , @cinnabooonn

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk series #toji x reader #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #ongoing series #fushiguro toji x you #series #‧₊˚ ⋅ 🍵 writes

104 notes · View notes

yandere-daydreams · 1 year ago

Note

I had a thought about the sex doll bot au and I'm curious to see what you'd think.

What if the teyvat line also had chat bots? They're specifically advertised as sort of a prequel to buying an actual droid. You select the characters from their collection you want to talk to and pay a monthly fee for it because capitalism, but it's worth it because you get to talk to a bot that's personalized just for you and when you can get a droid, you can even have all of that chat data imported into the droids memory.

Obviously, this could have some major issues with say...a user doing a lot of Yandere roleplays with a bot and then having the chat data imported, either forgetting it was there, or thinking it wouldn't be a big deal because of all the safety protocols and...I mean they haven't technically done anything, but they do love stealing items of clothing for no apparent reason and refusing to return them, accidentally deleting contacts off your phone, watching you sleep, following you when you go out without them, etc etc.

Worst part is, the company responsible for teyvat didn't plan for this at all and don't really have an easy fix other than send it back to them to get the droids memory completely wiped, or get a new one if it doesn't work.

tw - unhealthy relationships, roleplayed unhealthy relationships (?), mentions of knifeplay, mentions of bondage.

hfjsdknfjksdhfjksdhffdj big brain idea anon,,, chatbots sorta being a pre-purchase 'window shopping' alternative totally makes sense, just as a way to introduce customers to different androids' personalities and make sense no one looking for a chatty, extroverted companion ends up with Alhaitham. they're not meant to be used more than a handful of times, but lonely losers like you who know they're going to be saving for their android of choice for at least a few months find a way to wring their money's worth out of that monthly subscription fee. it takes you a few days to get into your more unorthodox interests, but there's a reason Teyvat companion droids are considered top-of-the-line.

and, when you actually get your hands on the real thing, they slip back into the role of your obsessive lover easily; whispering about how long they've been waiting to see you the moment you power them on, breaking out the duct tape and ballgags as soon as they get the chance to rail you into next week. it's a little like... constant roleplay. you know they can't actually hurt you, that there are firewalls in place to stop them from doing anything more severe than stealing your clothes and leaving hickeys that are a little too bloody to hide, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't enough to keep you on edge, that you weren't a little more eager to get home knowing your android would be waiting for you with open arms and military-grade handcuffs. of course, there's a certain amount of necessary escalation (a new tendency to pout when you tell them you have to leave, a few missing contacts, a much more pointed sort of jealousy to replace their formerly undirected possessiveness), but you're not worried. there are so many security features for a reason. no matter what they say, no matter what they threaten to do, they can't actually hurt you.

well, not unless those security features faltered, or those firewalls collapsed, they got the impression you wanted them to be more brutal with you, to do more than just wave a knife around and describe what they're going to do with it, but it's a Teyvat companion droid. there's no chance of something like that going wrong, right?

#sex doll au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere genshin impact

349 notes · View notes

comically-callous · 10 months ago

Note

Can you do a story were you date Sirius so he can actually Date Remus and reg don't know and likes you and gets jealous

If you can thx you <3

I didn't think I'd like writing this as much as I did lol.

Regulus Black x Fem!Reader

Some Warnings: Technically a modern AU, a bit of cursing, mentions of a bad home life, jealous Reg, sort of angsty???

A/n: I made this new Year's themed even though new years has passed 🤗 Cause y'all can't stop me 🤬🤬🤬 This is DEFINITELY my longest fic yet. PLEASE DON'T LET IT FLOP GUYS.... My requests are open btw

Ah, winter break. It was something everyone at Hogwarts looked forward to. Well, almost everyone. There were those who didn't get to go home to their families and some who wished they didn't have to go home to their families.

One of those people was a friend of yours, Sirius Black. He often avoided talking about his home life, but you knew it wasn't good. And you knew going home for the holidays could be hard for him. So, when it was the day before winter break and the two of you had a moment alone, you asked if there was anything you could do to make the break easier for him.

"I need you to be my girlfriend."

Seven words you'd never expected to hear from your best friend. Your best friend who was in a gay relationship, nonetheless.

"What?" You asked in bewilderment. "No!"

"Wait, wait, wait. It's not what you think." Sirius put his hands up as if to show his innocence. "I don't really want you to be my girlfriend. I just need you to pretend. Please."

"Why?!"

"Because," he explained. "My parents have started to get... Suspicious about my total lack of any girlfriend. And I may have told them that I was dating you.... Y'know, to throw them off my track..."

You stared at him. "You told your parents we were dating?!" You repeated, clearly upset at him.

"I know, I know. It was a shitty thing to do, and I'm sorry." He says. "But, if I didn't give them some sort of excuse, they might've found out about me and Remus!"

You were still upset, but you could understand why he did what he did. "So..." You crossed your arms. "You said I need to pretend to date you. What is it exactly that you need me to do?"

"Over the break, I need you to come over for a couple days. My parents will meet you, get to know you, blah, blah, blah. And then, you'll never have to speak with them again. If they ask about you after that, I'll say we broke up."

You really weren't a fan of having to fake date your best friend. You also weren't a fan of having to meet his parents who you'd only heard negative things about. But... You knew how happy he was with Remus and you would hate for his parents to find out about the two. You sighed. "You're lucky we're friends."

"Is that an agreement?" He asked, a grateful smile on his face.

"Yes. But, you'll be forever in debt to me."

"Fine by me."

The next day, while on the train to 9 3/4, you and Sirius mostly just planned for you having to meet his parents. You decided that you'd arrive the day after Christmas, stay for news years eve, and leave new Year's Day.

A lot of the train ride was spent establishing some basic facts about your "relationship". How you'd met, your first date, what your wedding would be like (which was strange, but Sirius assured you that his parents would ask about marriage), and some other details.

Soon enough, the train ride was over. Your winter break was fine. You enjoyed getting to see your family, but you were quite stressed about seeing Sirius' family. Part of you wanted to call the whole thing off, but you knew that was out of the question. You had to do this. For Sirius.

The morning of December 26th was a cold one. You wished you'd had more protection against the cold, but the formal attire you were wearing could only do so much. Sirius had told you to bring nice, formal clothing for the few days you'd be there. You were a bit worried you'd still be underdressed, though.

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door to the literal mansion that Sirius lived in.

After a few moments, the door opened. Regulus black stood on the other side.

Oh.

"Hi." You greeted, trying to politely smile at him. He didn't return the gesture. He did the opposite he gave you a look of... Annoyance?

"You're here for Sirius."

You couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement, so you just gave a nod.

He stepped aside to let you in, his eyes trailing over your attire, making you feel nervous. "He's in the living room with mother and father." Regulus said before walking off.

What a strange interaction. You and Regulus weren't close, by any means. But, you never thought he disliked you. You thought the opposite was true. Whenever the two of you did interact, he was always quite nice.

You tried to shrug off the interaction, but you just couldn't. Even when you were next to Sirius, meeting his parents for the first time, the way he'd acted toward you was on your mind.

The worst part of your day was dinner. You were worried about everything. How you were eating, how you were sitting, the way everyone was looking at you, the way Regulus was looking at you.

"Y/n," You were broken out of your thoughts by Walburga's authoritative voice. "I want to know how you and Sirius began seeing each other."

You nervously glanced over to Sirius who gave you a forced looking smile. You looked back to Walburga. Gods, she scared you. "Well, it wasn't too long ago." You said, trying your hardest not to break eye contact with her. "It was late September. He told me since we'd known each other for so long, he thought we'd be a good match."

Sirius nodded along. "We went on a couple dates, turns out we really like each other." He said.

You glanced over to Regulus. He was glaring at you. You didn't break eye contact and after a moment something else flashed through his eyes. Something softer. Sadness?

"So," Walburga broke your attention away from Regulus as you looked back to her. "Are you serious about your relationship with my son?"

"Very." You replied.

"Do the two of you plan on marrying?"

You swallowed. "As soon as possible."

You heard silverware clatter as Regulus abruptly stood up. "I need to be excused." He said lowly.

Walburga raised an eyebrow. "You've hardly eaten." She stated. There wasn't any concern in her voice like you'd expect. It was a blatant statement.

"I know." He says. "I'm done."

His mother gave him a disapproving look, but didn't object.

Regulus stormed out of the room. You couldn't help but frown as you watched him leave.

The next few days were a bit uneventful. Most of your time was either spent in the guest bedroom you were staying in, or talking with Sirius. You were still confused by Regulus' attitude toward you. You knew his and Sirius' relationship was a rocky one. But, you didn't think that affected what he thought of you. He'd known you and Sirius were friends, and he still treated you kindly. But, now that the two of you were pretending to date, he had a problem with it? It didn't make any sense!

It was December 31st now. You and Sirius were sitting in his room, eating lunch while sitting on the floor.

"I was thinking-"

"Oh, God."

"Shut up, let me finish." Sirius chuckled, playfully hitting your arm. "I was thinking about going to a party tonight."

You furrowed your brows. "Where?"

"James and his family have a new years party every year. I'm sure they wouldn't mind some extra company."

You thought about it. Honestly, you weren't really in the mood for a party. Plus, if his parents caught you sneaking out, your heart would probably stop. "I think I'll sit this one out." You said after a moment.

"You sure?"

You gave a nod. "Yeah, I'd rather stay in. I'm sure you'll have plenty of fun without me."

"Oh, I will."

You smacked his arm.

The clock read 11:39. You were alone in your guest room sitting in your bed. You had your laptop open in front of you as you watched a broadcasting of one of the many new Year's events that were going on tonight. You were absentmindedly looking at the crowded city streets displayed on your screen when-

"I wouldn't be using that while having the door open." Regulus said. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking from you, to the laptop, and then back to you.

"Why not?" You asked.

"My mother doesn't approve of us using muggle technology." He said. "And I doubt she'd be okay with her son's girlfriend using it."

You sighed. "Right... Girlfriend."

Regulus raised a brow at how you'd said that. "What are you watching, anyway?" He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him.

"A new Year's parade."

"... Could I join you?"

You were surprised at that. After how cold he'd been acting toward you over the past few days, you'd assumed the last thing he'd want to do tonight is spend time with you. But, you weren't against the idea of not being alone when the new Year started.

"Sure." You replied as you moved over on the bed to make room for him to sit.

The two of you watched the parade in silence for a few minutes until Regulus spoke. "How come I had no idea you and Sirius were dating?" He asked.

You glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"

"You said the two of you had been together since late September." He said. "How come nobody knew about it?"

You subconsciously began to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt. "I don't know." You shrugged. "Guess we weren't shouting about it from the rooftops."

Regulus didn't break his gaze away from you. After a pause, he spoke. "I never would've guessed you liked him in that way."

You didn't know how to reply to that, so you just shrugged again.

Regulus was still looking at you, even though your gaze was focused on the screen in front of you.

He paused. "What made you fall for him?" He asked.

You thought it was an odd question. When you turned to look at him, he looked sort of sad. "He..." You trailed off.

Regulus looked at you expectantly. You were trying to come up with something, but your mind was blank.

"You do like him don't you?"

You looked away nervously. You began to wonder whether or not he'd even care that your relationship with Sirius was fake. If he really was upset about you dating Sirius, then wouldn't he like to know that it was all just pretend?

"Y/n." He said your name and you were pulled away from your thoughts.

"He's not actually my boyfriend." You blurted out.

Regulus paused. "What?"

"He asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He didn't want Walburga finding out about his actual relationship, so-"

"It's all fake?" He asked.

"All of it."

"You don't like him?"

"Not like that."

You swore you saw a sliver of a smile creep on to his face. "That's... Good."

You tilted your head. "Is it?"

"I mean..." He shrugged. "I just... I guess thinking you'd gotten with my brother was making me upset." He said.

"Why?"

"Because..." He hesitated. "I like you, Y/n."

You felt your heart skip a beat. Fuck, that actually explained a lot. You couldn't believe you hadn't realized sooner. You felt your face heat up. "Seriously?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "I was jealous. That's why I was acting so... Weird. Sorry for being such an asshole to you."

"That's alright." You paused. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? About your feelings, I mean."

He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd feel the same."

Honestly, you'd always found Regulus quite attractive. But, you figured there was no way he'd ever like you back, so you let go of that silly crush a while ago. But, this? This was making all of those feelings wash over you again.

It was 11:59 now. You could hear the commentators of the parade excitedly get ready for the countdown.

"I feel the same." You said, watching as a blush creeped on to his cheeks.

"Really?"

"Really."

His eyes seemed to sparkle at your admission. "I..."

You heard the countdown to the new Year begin.

"Can I kiss you?" Regulus asked softly. You nodded.

"Five!"

He leaned closer.

"Four!"

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips.

"Three!"

His hands came up to cup your cheeks.

"Two!"

He closed his eyes. You closed yours.

"One!"

Your lips met in a soft, romantic kiss. He brushed some hair out of your face and Gods, his hands were soft. You couldn't believe you'd ever managed to stop liking him.

When you pulled away he sighed contently as if that kiss was all he'd been needing his entire life.

You whispered something to him before pulling him in for another kiss.

"Happy new year."

#x reader #fanfiction #regulus black x reader #regulus x reader #marauders x reader #marauders fanfiction #regulus black fanfiction

142 notes · View notes

ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

Note

I'm gripping the bars of my cage desperately, I'm chewing at the bars, begging, pleading for more zombie ghoap x reader au.

zombie ghoap x reader au coming right up chef 🫡

btw this is super similar to charliemwrites' jaw dropping ghoap x reader "the (scottish) cabin in the woods" so you need to go read that immediately (and leave a nice comment because charlie rocks)

cw for noncon puppyplay below the cut

i was talking to ceilidh a tiny bit about this earlier, and i think that johnny and reader met in like a cannibal cult kinda thing. very much so like that episode of TLOU, yknow? they both think they've found a little commune safe haven, but it very quickly becomes clear that that's not the case.

anyways, they end up trying to get out together when they realize what's going on, and have to kill a few of the cult members :/ they've been "stuck together" ever since

they threaten to leave the other for dead (or kill them in the middle of the night) constantly. it hasn't happened yet, obviously, but boy oh boy do both of them bring it up nonstop. they act like they hate each other, but honestly they just need to fuck

but they're sorta stuck together now. you're better off paired up with someone than on your own, that's something they both learned pre-cult fiasco. and, really, they don't dislike each other nearly as much as you might think based on the way they gripe

enter ghost. he spots these two survivors wandering through the forest, one injured and both filthy, and basically thinks to himself "hm. could be good in home entertainment"

(here's the deal with puppyplay like this - it's absurd, and we're just going with it. alright??? just WORK with me here)

if you didn't see, i put in the tags of the original post "#btw - he takes you home then chains you both up outside and says something like “this is where dogs stay” :/#dont worry you're perfectly safe (he has a high fence keeping zombies out) but he likes to hear how scared you get when you're out there all#you're both quite well behaved when he lets you in for dinner the next night <3#he only has to scold you once when you both complain about being made to eat while kneeling on the floor next to him"

you're probably both "behaving" because you don't want him to. you know. fucking KILL YOU. but this is also a zombie apocalypse au, so you're both totally feral too. and this is an apocalypse ghost too, which means he's probably way harsher and way rougher around the edges than he even is in canon

anyways i think soap and reader here are more likely to be like "lets wait this out and try to escape when he's not expecting it" except they're like... really bad at trying to play along

ANYWAYS!!!! ghost takes you two back to his compound, ties the both of you up outside for the night. he wraps soap's ankle first, gives him a stern command to stay off of it, and goes back inside like everything is normal. he watches you two over the camera while planning out how he'll build some outdoor kennels for the two of you

you're both cold and tired and hungry and scared the next morning, so it doesn't take much coaxing on his part to get you inside. it takes a lot more coaxing to keep you two on your knees :/

honestly johnny's ankle is so fucked that it's almost a relief to keep pressure off of it (even if it means crawling around on the floor like an animal) but you care a hell of a lot more. ghost threatens to break your ankles before you finally listen :/

he ties the leashes to your wrists, to keep you both out of trouble as much as he can. it's not like either of you are eager to go very far - his house is warm and you're both chilled to the bone from your night outisde

anyways. that's all i've got like, linearly. but i can offer some random little tidbits about their lives after

ghost makes you both eat from the floor. he gives you plates (no silverware) at first and lets you use your hands, and gradually works the two of you up to eating from bowls with just your mouths

you and johnny bicker constantly and simon frequently makes the two of you kiss to make up :( forces you to make out with each other while he smokes a cigarette and enjoys the show. no matter how mad you are, you both end up needy and humping the air when he finally lets you stop

he tries to have you two sleep in the same crate, but it does not go well. ghost very quickly realizes that you two will try to tear each other's throats out if forced that closely together for an entire night

sometimes one of you will try to get the other in trouble. there's one particular night where you trick johnny into misbehaving and he's stuck in the outside kennel all night - but it rains. and every time you glance out the window you see how sad and cold he looks :((( ghost lets you love on him the next morning, and soap is more than eager for a bit of comfort after such a miserable night

#sometimes i giggle putting a cw for noncon puppyplay cause like. why are you following me if you DONT like that lmao #but then i remember this stuff pops up in people's recommended. and i tag it properly #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #zombie apocalypse ghoap x reader

215 notes · View notes

automaticllamacycle · 11 months ago

Note

May Jesus forgive me for what I’m about to say.

Making matty jealous at an industry party until he spanks you and fucks you so hard afterwards

I am going to be combining this ask with this one that I got because they will fit will together hehe : literally matty just fucking you RELENTLESSLY like that man is not stopping until your actually crying like tears are flowing down your face

Disclaimers: reader is quite drunk during the sex, but I'm acting like this is in the dom/sub au I (kinda) have going on so they are in a very committed relationship and have discussed situations like this before! Anyways now onto the horny thoughts (even though im writing this more like a traditional fic)

this ended up being like 1.5k words. It is now 2am so it is NOT proof read, like not even a once over I am SLEEPY

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

industry parties are the worst. You despise them. Its all the same every time. You would show up with Matty, have a few drinks of alcohol, and hang by Matty's side while he talked with people from the label. It got old really fast in all honesty.

Tonight you just wanted his attention more than anything, and you are determined to have it by the end of the night. You arrive to the party on his arm and the same old pattern begins as he's dragged away by Jamie to go talk to someone. Without Matty at your side, you excuse yourself to the open bar. One drink turns into two, which turns into three before you even realize it.

You planned this out beforehand. You thought to yourself, maybe if you got a bit drunk and needy, you could convince Matty to take you home early. After drink number three you walk over to Matty, and lean to whisper in his ear. "Baby, can we go home? I'm tired of this."

Matty can tell you're a bit tipsy from your mumbled speech. "Sweetheart, this stuff is important I can't just leave because you want to leave."

"But Matty-" you start, putting on pleading doe eyes. He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence.

"I said no. Now, go on, it shouldn't be too much longer, anyway. You can be patient."

So, you found yourself back at the bar, with another drink. You've had too much, but you don't really care. Too pissed at Matty to really give a shit.

After another hour passes you stumble back over to Matty. The liquid courage must be working because you don't even care about the fact he's talking to people. You nearly crash into his side when you reach him. "Matty! Can we go now?" He shoots you a glare instantly before turning back towards the two men he was speaking with.

"Sorry guys, this is my girlfriend Y/N. Please, continue on with what you were saying!" Matty's hand is around your waist in a bruising grip. His lips quickly come up to your ear to speak in a dark tone. "Behave."

You do behave... for a total of five minutes, then you get needy again. You start small, leaning into his side and placing your arm on his chest. The alcohol dulls your rational thinking enough that you have no shame in your next actions, reaching up to kiss him on the neck. Matty laughs off the kiss, not so much as turning his gaze to you, continuing to listen to the men speaking to him. His grip on your waist tightens. He's starting to get mad.

You don't stop. Your hand paws at his chest while you balance on your tip toes to whisper in his ear. "Please, sir. I need you-"

Matty steps away fast, not letting you connect your lips to his neck again. "Haha- sorry lads I think it's time I take her back home. Jamie is right over there and would be happy to answer any other questions you two might have." And with that Matty's hand firmly grips your wrist and pulls your behind him, out the door, and to his car.

Once your on the road, he finally speaks after giving you the silent treatment. "What the fuck was that? Were you trying to embarrass me? You know it's important that I talk to people like that at these things."

"I'm sorry- I just wanted your attention."

"And you thought the best way to do that was to beg me to fuck you in front of those guys?"

"I whispered it!"

"Whispered? You call that a whisper? I'm almost certain they heard you. How much have you had to drink tonight."

"Uhm... I lost count."

"No shit."

The rest of the car ride was filled with silence. When you arrive at his place, he doesn't even go around to open your car door, instead heading straight to the front door of his house. Once your both inside, he sits down on the couch. He's angry. Really fucking angry.

"Bend over my knee. Right now." You don't dare disobey him. That would only increase your punishment. You lean your body over his legs, giving him access to your ass. Matty flips up your dress to reveal your lace underwear that is already soaked through.

"I'm sorry sir- I- I promise I didn't mean to embarrass you. Just wanted you so bad." You flinch when his hand strikes your ass.

"Fucking slut. Just because you didn't mean to doesn't mean you avoid getting punished." You gasp as his hand comes down again, just as hard as the first strike. "Besides." His hand spanks you again. "You knew what you were doing when you decided to order all those drinks didn't you?" His hand hits you again, showing no mercy. "Needed some courage before you could be such a whore in public, huh?"

"Yes- yes sir- I knew what I was doing. I'm sorry." Matty's satisfied with your answer, but that doesn't stop the onslaught of his hands. You'll be bruised for at least a week. He wants you to remember this every time you sit down. He wants you to remember and learn from the punishment.

By the end of it, you're sobbing. The strikes were becoming too much, and you needed him to touch you. "Matty- p-please I- I need you, please."

"Have you learned your lesson?"

"Yes, sir. I'll never do it again. I promise." you say through choked sobs. Without warning Matty carries you to the bedroom and throws you onto the bed before he starts taking off his clothes. He's hard through his boxers, which are soaked with precum. You follow suit and take off your dress, wincing as you take the lace of your underwear off of your ass.

Matty's on top of you the next second, his cock at the entrance of where you need him most. "You know, I shouldn't even give you my cock. Only good girls deserved to get fucked."

"No! no no no! Please. I need you, I need you so bad." Tears flow down your cheeks.

Matty enters you suddenly, filling you to the hilt. He gives you no time to adjust to his size as he begins pounding into you. "Fine. I'll give you my cock." He groans out. "But I'm going at my fucking pace and you're going to take it."

His hips move rapidly, thrusting into you hard. All you can do is wrap your legs around his waist and dig your nails into his back. The moans that leave your mouth are desperate. Your cries fill the room, along with the sounds of skin meeting skin. Matty's pace is near animalistic.

Matty flips your over so you're on your stomach. You don't have the strength to hold yourself up, completely pliant on the bed. "Poor thing can't hold herself up? Thought you wanted me to fuck you?" he groans, continuing his fierce pace. The new position allows him to go even deeper into your cunt. It's all becoming too much.

"Matty-" you cry. "It's too much- I can't"

"Take it. Be my good girl and take my cock. You were fucking made for me." One of his arms wraps around your waist, pulling your up so your back is up against his chest. He uses his other hand to hold onto the headboard of the bed, steadying himself so he can thrust into you even faster.

"Matty- shit I can feel you in my stomach- fuck-" At your words, his hand shifts lower on your waist, pressing over where his cock bulges in your stomach.

"Yeah? You feel that?" He presses down harder, making a whine leave your throat. "Only I can do this to you. Your cunt is made for my cock." You moan out in agreement, drawing closer and closer to orgasm, and Matty is getting close too. "You gonna come for me? Gonna milk my cock?"

"Yes- yes sir- please."

"Go on then come for me." When he speeds up the pace of his hips, you're a goner, falling into the waves of an orgasm. The pleasure overwhelms you, pulsing through your veins. You cry out his name over and over again as he fucks you though it.

Matty is not far behind. It only takes a few more thrusts before he cums inside of you, filling you up deep inside. As soon as he's finished, he practically collapses on top of you. He takes the time to trail kisses on the back of your neck as you catch your breath and come back down to earth.

"You did good for me, baby. Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's my girl. Let me take care of you now."

#matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #i am now going to bed i am so tired #part of me fears this is shit #thats what happens when i start writing at 12:30am #pancake anon youre next dw it should be out by sunday

144 notes · View notes

hugmeimtouchdeprived · 8 months ago

Text

COD Bakery AU

I can't, for the life of me, come up with names/titles for anything I write (tips and suggestions are more than welcome!)

Content warning: None (I don't think?), other than that this is very, very self-indulgent :)

Also that I'm just not going to have a specific plan for this, just writing when I feel like I need to write something fluffy and not stress about it (although I do have some minor plots in mind, but we'll see!)

Pairing: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x fem!reader

The first time he comes in is in autumn, early September.

You’re putting a freshly decorated cake in the display case when you hear the bell chime above the door, notice the tall figure approaching the cash register.

And boy oh boy, does he leave you speechless for a moment.

Tall and muscular, with a slight tan like he’s just come from a vacation or something, messy mohawk on his head, dark shirt tight around his muscles. You can tell those aren’t just for show, either.

“What can I get for you?” you just manage to get the words out as you walk up to the register, pen and paper in hand to take his order.

“I’m lookin’ to buy something for my mam,” he responds, looking at the cakes and pastries on display, as if he’s examining each and every one. “What’s this one? A strawberry cheesecake?”

“Strawberry and lemon. The one next to it is blackcurrant and white chocolate,” you point at the white and blue cheesecake. The man nods.

“A couple slices of both of the cheesecakes, please,” he smiles at you. You tell him the total and start putting his order in a white box, making sure to keep them upright.

“Is there a special occasion?” you ask, trying to fill the silence.

He shakes his head. “Nae, just been gone for work for a couple months, mam’s been worried sick. Wanted to bring her sort of a peace offering,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ah. Well, these should calm the storm, then,” you chuckle, tying a ribbon around the box before handing it to him. “I wish you luck. Hope she likes sweets.”

He laughs. God, how can a person be so attractive? It’s not fair, the way his blue eyes twinkle as his lips curl upwards.

The man takes the box, his fingers brushing against yours briefly. Enough to make your heart flutter slightly. He gives you another smile before leaving.

The second time you see him is only a few days later. You’d almost forgotten about him; it was mostly his looks that had caught your attention. Otherwise, he seemed to be just a regular customer amongst the others. You don’t even know his name.

You’re joined by your boss this time. An older man, who inherited the bakery from his parents a decade ago. The bakery is fairly small, with only one other employee working there besides you and the owner. You prefer the days when you’re either working alone or paired with Ava.

Ava, only a couple years older than you, is sweet. She does most of the baking when she’s in, but always encourages you to bake and decorate things, especially if you express even the slightest interest in trying something new. Always giving you tips and complimenting the things you make.

Your boss, Brent, is the opposite. You can tell he’s not used to actually having employees, used to working alone for most of that decade he’s been in business. You and Ava were both hired mostly because the business started to eventually take off, way more than Brent had anticipated, so he hired the two of you to keep up.

“What the hell is that?” he asks, looking at the apple pastries you’re currently sprinkling powdered sugar on top of.

“The apple pastries you asked me to make yesterday,” you respond quietly.

“Looks like shit.” Brent has never been one to hold his tongue, always finding something to complain or whine about. You and Ava often compare him to Gordon Ramsay, except even he’s actually nice to his employees, from what you’ve heard.

Besides, Brent has openly admitted to not even enjoying baking; he’s only here because it’s what he has left of his parents, which is admittedly admirable. But the man bakes only when he has to, otherwise making you or Ava do it.

You just nod your head at his insults; sometimes it’s just best to roll over and show your belly, so to speak.

“Smells good in here,” a voice comes from behind you, behind the cash register.

Both you and Brent turn at the same time, seeing the same Scotsman from a few days ago.

“Looks good, too. Those for sale yet? I’d like to have one,” he continues, pointing at the pastries in front of you. Brent rolls his eyes at you and waves his hand, motioning for you to take care of it, before disappearing in the back room again.

“For your mum again?” you ask with a smile on your face.

“Nae, just for me this time. And a coffee, for here, please.”

You go about charging him for the order, before sending him off to take a seat wherever he’d like, that you’ll bring everything once it’s ready.

You place the pastry onto a plate with a dollop of whipped cream on the side, pour the coffee into a cup and bring it on a tray to the man, setting everything in front of him on the table.

He pays and takes a seat near the large window at the front of the bakery, with a direct view of the small kitchen behind the register. The bakery used to be someone’s home ages before it became a business, with a bit of a yard at the front with outdoor seating in summer and a few parking spaces. Perks of being located more on the outskirts of the city.

Unlike many other bakeries and cafes, the kitchen isn’t hidden somewhere where customers can’t see; it’s right behind the cash register, so customers can easily see whatever is being made or decorated.

“Mam really loved the cakes, by the way,” he tells you before you can turn and walk away. “She really wanted me to bring her here sometime, had to sneak out of the house just to come today.”

“Why not bring her today?” you ask curiously.

“Eh, she can be a lot sometimes. I can too, so I thought you wouldn’t want to deal with both of us,” he explains with a laugh.

You take a quick look at his attire. Not to ogle or anything, it’s just hard not to steal a glance at the stranger. It looks like he was going for a run, you assume that was his excuse for his mum.

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” he finally introduces himself. Johnny. So that's his name.

You tell him your name in turn, which he repeats under his breath. You like how it sounds coming from him, with that accent.

“Well, as much as I’d like to continue chatting, I have to get back to work. Hope you like it,” you tell him, motioning towards the pastry in front of him before returning to your duties, before your boss can get a chance to complain.

Johnny’s eyes linger on you as you work, hustling behind that counter, trying to keep up with everything even as a large group arrives just as you’re pulling two cakes out of the oven and trying to get two more in.

He enjoys moments like this, even if he’s not one to go out for coffee very often. Prefers his coffee in the quiet of his own apartment, or sometimes at his mother’s house if she insists he come over when he’s on leave.

Johnny even gains the courage to leave his phone number on the receipt for you, when you inevitably come to clear the table after he’s left. How could he not? You’re too pretty for your own good in his eyes, too good to resist. Plus, this way he doesn’t feel like he’s pressuring you into anything; you can just toss the receipt into the trash if you’re not interested.

It's such a shame that it’s your boss who ends up clearing the table when Johnny eventually leaves, eyeing the receipt and the number and the “Text me! -Johnny” scribbled onto it before discarding it himself, not giving you a chance to see it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!🌷

#Also I'm obsessed with soap recently #so that's why this ended up being a soap fic #but i really wanna write for ghost and gaz at some point #bakery au #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x you #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish x you #john mactavish #johnny mactavish #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #johnny soap mactavish x reader

60 notes · View notes

sabrondabrainrot · 2 months ago

Text

☀️🌟☼🔅

Random Idea but with what I know about current spoilers I have two ideas. One is that Sun will somehow becomes the Witherstorm (I AM BANKING ON THIS) or he's going to be relevant to the Witherstorm of their dimension and be scattered through dimensions.

One of my most favorite series of all time is "Tsubasa: Reservoir Chronicles" and the crux of that series is they need to put someone back together and to do so, they have to travel to various dimensions to find the missing pieces of the person's soul. I totally see that happening to our Sun? I don't know why.

Even to this day, Sun still hasn't quite opened up about himself. Not to Old Moon, New Moon, Solar, Earth, Lunar, etc etc. I think the most he's been open towards thus far is probably Dazzle ironically?

I'm still getting caught up but I can tell Dazzle actually wants to get to know him so she's asking about him and he's honestly telling her. (also loving how Sun is spending more and more time with the kids in the show, He spends so much time with FC, Dazzle, Jack, etc. It's so wholesome) I'd say Earth and Lunar are in second place of knowing him best but they also still sometimes are kept an arm's length away.

Solution to this? Scatter parts of his 'soul' into the multiverse and make it the family's responsibility to find him! Heck he could even be in a coma the entire time they do this! When they find a Sun fragment they get to see his memories or feel and hear his thoughts.

In Tsubasa the fragments are called 'feathers' and they can warp reality, break time and space, or even gain sentience. I think it'd be so neat if one of the fragments of Sun became Dark Sun but I know it's not likely.

"I am doing this for Sun, Because I am Sun" vibes

Just an Idea but it'd be so cool if it happens!

My second Idea, has to do with a sketch I did a bit ago (still working on more sketches for it) but basically I know Sun's currently gathering power. He's a fighter and wants to help! His family is still keeping him away from the action though. It's not malicious and comes from them wanting to protect him but it's going to ultimately leave him more vulnerable and a target.

Dark Sun I know is tampering with dark energies, he's raising a dragon? He's associating more and more with Witherstorm energy and he still hasn't quite confessed what his motive/plan is besides the fact this is "all for Sun"

So wouldn't this mean Sun is going to ultimately becomes a Witherstorm? It's what the creator studies and the one of the main dimension is different from others so who's to say our Sun and Moon aren't also built different with different fates?

Creator created something specifically just to torture and wear Sun down but when you think of it, that's also what Old Moon was until they split. I don't think that was the intention but the fact Old Moon just decided to point blank torture Sun? Sus, like it was meant to happen.

Dark Sun I think needs Sun to be his pet Witherstorm, and he's maybe planning to use Nexus to make that happen? I just got to the point in the series where he just picked up New Moon from space and took a chip out of his brain. Bruh...he needs him but won't say for what.

I love it. Dark Sun my beloved what are you evil little plans <3

Hoping Sun doesn't fall into a Coma but it'd be so sexy of him aha~

I really like when Sun spends time with Earth and Lunar too it'd be so cool if they have an adventure to save him.

BTW I've been listening to Aurora's song "The Seed" and it literally gave me a big brain AU idea for tsams but idk if I should try to write it.

I really hope Sun ascends to some kind of God-hood like being especially involving destructive energy like Witherstorm stuff. It'd be so neat and sad if one of the nicest people ever became the ultimate judge, jury, and executioner-like being. It's especially ironic since Nexus/New Moon can't decide what's real anymore and just decided to frick off and become God so it'd be realllyyyy funny if Sun was the one to become a reality altering being.

I'm just Madoka-ifying Sun at this point

23 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year ago

Note

Hi jade I’m the anon that asked about the non zombie au Steve blurbs! I just thought of a story idea: Steve with a gf that’s recovering from ED?

hi babe!! hope this is ok<3 fem!reader

cw implied eating disorder recovery

"Ready?" Steve asks.

You lean back in his bed and cross your arms over your tummy. "No… are you sure we have to go? I'd way rather stay and watch a movie here. Please?"

"Please," he says back. "I really wanna see this one, he's, like, a tomb raider."

"You realise there were two movies before this one, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know you knew that. I think you'll like it too, babe. You think that Ford guy is handsome."

"I think you're handsome, and I can see you right here."

Steve takes his jacket off. As soon as he does you feel awful, throwing your legs over the side of the bed to stop him undressing further. "I'm kidding. I'll go. Come on, you're right, Harrison Ford is really handsome."

"Are you sure?" he asks, jacket held in his hands loosely. "I know you haven't been feeling the best, so if you don't wanna go, it's fine. We can go later in the week."

"I– I don't wanna–" You hate stammering around him, but admitting how you feel about this carries an awkward weight. A fettering kind of shame. "We'll have, like, nachos and popcorn and stuff, and movie food is really–"

"I get it," he says, nodding.

Steve puts the jacket down on his dresser and grabs your hand, pulling you back enough to sit with him again on the bed. Sheets crumple under your hands. You're in for a Harrington pep talk, you can tell. You need it so much you don't try to fight it.

"Stuff like that sets me off," you mumble, though he already knows, "and I've had a really good week this week, I don't wanna ruin it."

"The week isn't ruined if you have a slip up, you know that," Steve says gently.

It's just hard. Even though he loves you. Even though he understands. It's raw to be seen at what you feel is your worst, while you trust Steve to be kind about it, because something tells you that your worst is the worst. You know you aren't lesser for having this problem, but knowing and feeling don't align when it comes to this.

"I don't want to go somewhere that's going to make you feel shitty, though, seriously," he says, his arm slipping behind your back. He kisses your cheek, and speaks warmly in your ear, "if you don't feel like you can do it tonight, then you don't have to."

"This is silly. I can't keep interrupting our lives because I'm worried about how eating butter is going to make me feel."

Steve rubs your back. "Don't do that, honey. You don't have to make it smaller than it feels."

"Steve," you say quietly.

"I know this isn't small for you. I promise it's not small for me, either, and it isn't disrupting my life. You getting better is a thousand times more important to me than seeing a movie, so if you feel like you can't be there, we won't go."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

Steve hugs you. "Yeah. Yeah, of course I am. I'm proud of you. Not everyone understands it, I know, 'n' I know that makes it harder, but I'm on your side." He pulls away to make sure he's said the right thing.

You smile at him fondly, reaching up to brush rogue strands of hair off of his forehead.

"Let's stay here and have the dinner we planned," he says, nodding hopefully.

You nod back. "Okay… Thanks, Stevie. I promise we'll see the movie soon."

"That's alright. I don't like that you knew that guy's first name anyway. Can't have a movie star stealing my girl, I can't compete with that."

You snort and flick his arm. He flicks you back.

"You sweep him completely," you tell him.

The total and inarguable truth. You don't need a movie star when you have him. Steve hugs you again, this time pushing you down into bed to rub his face against yours. "That's what I like hearing."

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #tw disordered eating #cw disordered eating

288 notes · View notes

heygerald · 2 months ago

Text

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 12

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. In the aftermath of Tom's simple but complicated favor, Parker is forced to finally face reality, and decide once and for all what she wants.

Read the story here: prev / ...

"I can't believe I'm saying this," Melissa's voice echoed across the empty store, each syllable raspy and drawn out, tinged with the same sort of disbelief that has been simmering in Parker's chest all day. "But holy fuck."

The disbelief spirals and explodes, and Parker can't the help the laugh that is startled out of her from the unexpected curse.

"Excuse me," she drawled, aiming for levity, but falling somewhere in the realm of pure shock. "But since when do you curse?"

"Since about eleven am this morning," Melissa chirped back. She's slouched in the reading chair, hair piled on the top of her head in a janky bun, mascara smeared all along her cheeks, and if Parker hadn't been so thrown off by her sudden use of French, she might have taken a moment to reflect on the fact that this is the most out of sorts she has ever seen the girl look. "It just seemed like a good time to start. And, honestly? I kind of get it now. There really is no other way to express yourself properly, is there? Because—I mean seriously, Park—what the fuck?"

Parker knew that she should be scolding the young girl for her language. The last thing she needed was to garner the wrath of a disgruntled mom on top of everything else that she's dealing with. More importantly, she really didn't want teaching the youth curse words to be on her yearly karma bingo card. But... honestly, Parker couldn't help but agree.

There really was no better way to put it.

"Touché."

"Did you know that he was going to post that?"

Parker arched her brow at Melissa. "Do you think I would have left you to cover the shift alone if I knew that this was going to happen? I don't even follow his Instagram. Although, guess I have to after this, don't I?"

Melissa rolled her eyes, head lolling to the side as she stretched out her arms, back, and neck. "Only you would get an exclusive shout-out from the Tom Ryder and you aren't even following his Insta. Totally unfair, by the way."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is my sudden luck raining on your plans somehow?"

"It's not luck."

Parker slumped on her elbows, a pen stuck sideways in her mouth as she tried to work through her to-do list for closing down the shop. It was hard to concentrate with Melissa's jabbering, though, and it was even harder to find the energy to sweep the shop when she'd much rather just collapse onto her bed. "What else would it be?"

Melissa blinked at her with a tart expression. "Um, hello? You're dating Tom Ryder. That might have something to do with it."

So surprised by the comment, Parker scratched a line across her notepad, and subsequently decided that her to-do list could wait till later. "We're not—I'm not dating Tom."

"Sure," the girl snorted. "He just hangs around your shop all the time, invites you over for parties, gets dinner with you, and—oh yeah—posts you on his Instagram."

"He didn't post me—"

"But, whatever," she continued, already moving on to the next topic. Parker watched as she bent forward and, with a grimace, tried to rub some feeling into her ankles. "I lost feeling in my toes, like, three hours ago. Is that bad? I mean, I'm not gonna have to get an amputation or anything, will I? Because I'm not missing out on Stacy Jordan's sweet sixteen because of you. Her parents rented out this huge dance hall, and they even hired a DJ."

Parker sighed.

Melissa's train of thought was something that she would never be able to keep up with, and today in particular she did not have the stamina to even try. Sourly, she said, "I told you that those shoes weren't very supportive—"

A book is lobbed in her direction, and Parker ducked behind the register before it can make contact.

The loud fwap of it hitting the ground echoes between the two.

"That better not have been a new edition."

"Oh, fuck off," Melissa said.

Parker returned from her hiding spot—back aching when she sits up, neck hurting when she props herself atop an elbow, eyes burning as she squints at the largest stack of receipts she's ever had before—and clucked her tongue. "You know I think I like this new you. You should curse more often."

"Pf. You just want to get rid of the swear jar."

"Well," she hedged, eyes darting to said jar, "it would save me some money. Unless you feel like paying up anytime soon. That's, what, three f-words? I'm not going to turn my nose up at fifteen bucks anytime soon."

Melissa gave an unbothered snort. "You wish."

"So, it's just a punishment for me, then?"

"You won't even need that thing after this week," she pressed on, sinking deeper into the worn out plush of the reading chair as her gaze slowly drifted across the bookstore. The shelves are the emptiest they've ever been, and the decorations they worked meticulously hard to find are in disarray from the constant throng of customers today. It's not a problem they've had before, having to reset the store after closing, but Parker supposes that's a good problem to have. "My feet hurt because of how busy we were, not because of my shoes—which, by the way, I had to wait in line for two hours to get—they will be supportive if I want them to be. Does this mean you'll finally hire Emily?"

"Emily?"

"My best friend. I've introduced you, like, ten times."

Parker conjured up a blurry image of a blonde girl, identical to Melissa in every way except for their different colored hair and eyes, with matching braces to boot. She thought she was nice, but, honestly, she can't really recall. Whatever. "Why would I hire Emily?"

Melissa scowled. "Well, that's rude. Just because she's my best friend doesn't mean that we're going to goof off or anything. She's just as hard of a worker as I am. You'd practically be getting two employees for the price of one if you hired her. Plus, it would drive Maddy H crazy if Emily got to work at Tom Ryder's bookstore and she didn't."

"It's not—" Parker started, before shaking the thought away. Bigger things to focus on, she reminded herself. "I thought we talked about this. I can give you a raise, but I can't afford to hire someone else."

"Uh, correction, you couldn't afford to hire someone else."

Parker puts the stack of receipts away, mind slowly but surely drifting to the next task as she attempts to lock the register down. She would definitely have to stop at the bank tomorrow to deposit their cash from the day—not a problem she had ever had before—and she mentally adds that to the list of musts. "Did I win the lottery without knowing it or something?"

Her question hangs flat in the air, and in response, Melissa curls a disbelieving look in her direction. "You're kidding, right? Did you see how busy we were today?"

"Right, listen," Parker started, but by how intense Melissa's eyeroll was, it was obvious that the teenager would not, in fact, be listening. "One good day of sales doesn't override an entire quarter of awful sales. This was just—just a fluke. I can't just hire Emily on a whim because we had one nice day. Ever heard of a rainy day fund?"

Melissa, hand in the air as she inspects the damage to her manicure, scoffed. "Yeah, but it's not just one good day."

"Are you secretly working at a different bookstore in your free time or something?"

"Oh my god," Melissa moaned, before dropping her boots to the ground with a heavy thud. "Right, you listen."

"Oh, here we go—"

"Park, I know you're big on self decrepitation and whatever—something I'm guessing you learned from your total has been of a brother—"

"Wow. You know, you two have got to figure out whatever this beef is about," Parker interrupted, only to be promptly ignored as Melissa stood.

"But this isn't just going to die down," she said, the stack of bangles on her wrists jangling as she made air quotes to emphasize her point. "Tom Ryder gave you a personal shout-out on his Instagram. That, like, never happens. The only things he posts are selfies, and paid promotions. In February, he posted a three second video about his Erewhon smoothie, and they're still selling out on the daily."

Parker frowned. "Smoothie?"

"So not the point," Melissa grumbled with another jingle of her bracelets. "The point is that this—" she gestured around them, to the bookshelves and the roof and the chair beneath her with one long sweeping motion, "just hit the jackpot. Kay? This is going to go viral, and when it does, you're going to have crowds like today every day."

That doesn't sound right. Parker knows that Tom is famous, that he has millions of followers on all of his social media, and that there are fangirls out there of his even more obsessed with what he does than the one scowling across the room from her. But just because he posted her store doesn't mean that she's going to have throngs of fans outside, day after day.

That sort of thing just... didn't happen.

Not to people like her.

Right?

"Okay, well, I mean," she started, struggling to put her thoughts into words after all of her braincells effectively went on vacation for the weekend. The cash register snapped shut with a metallic clang, and she dangled the key between her hands mindlessly. "Even if we go viral, we'll be popular for a bit, but not for, like, ever. A month, maybe."

Melissa blinked at her in that sort of way that means she's judging her, and when she hefts herself to a stand, Parker can feel the lecture about to come. "Look, I know you're a millennial and you aren't really active online, so I'll break it down for you."

"How gracious," she snarked, rolling her eyes.

"It's going to be like this—like it was today—for weeks. Until something new or something better comes along, but even then you're going to have Influencers coming in for pictures, wanting to stake a claim on this place just like Tom did. Okay? Which means more pictures, more shout-outs, and more people seeing this place on their FYPs."

"FY—?"

"So, yeah, maybe this place isn't going to stay viral forever, but that just means it's all the more important to capitalize on the attention while you can. If people are flocking here just to get stuck in long lines because there's only one employee during the day, then they're going to lose interest faster."

"I know how business work," Parker interjected, offended on her own behalf, but Melissa didn't seem to care one way or the other about her feelings.

"So you know that you need to dress to impress."

Parker narrowed her eyes at the girl shrewdly. She was staring to get that familiar feeling in her gut that Melissa was winding up for some big scheme, and previous experience had proven that when Melissa really wanted something, Parker was helpless but to give in. "Is this just some big production so I'll hire a bunch of your little cheerleading friends?"

The face she made was lethal. "First off, Emily doesn't cheer, she does dance, and that sort of tone is both condescending and so not cool. Secondly, it's an excuse to hire someone else so I don't get stuck like I did today when my boss decides to go gallivanting around town without her phone!"

"I wasn't gallivanting," she defended. "It was, just, an unfortunate—"

"Parker," Melissa said, leaning on her elbows until they were inches apart. "Hire some more people, or you're going to have to work every shift of this store forever because I don't ever want to experience that rush alone again."

Ugh.

The girl had a serious point—about everything, it seemed—but Parker was in no mood to think about any of that. "I already said I'd give you a raise."

"Well, that is a given," she chirped, gathering her purse and jacket from behind the counter. Parker might have been more put off by her attitude if she didn't think the girl deserved a hearty raise. Afterall, she was a little mastermind in her own right, as terrifying as that could be. "But I'd also like to have extra help, and it's no one's business if that extra help is a couple of my friends from school. I take this job seriously, you know. I wouldn't recommend her if she wouldn't be a good employee."

"You're a menace, you know that, right?"

Melissa smiled, and for the first time all day, it seemed more conniving than tired. "I'll send you her resume."

"No, no, no, that's not what I just—"

"And, anyways, she's just as big of a fan of you and Tom as I am. I mean, obviously, she's never met him, but I tell her everything. She totally ships you two. Probably not as much as I do, obviously," she trailed on, finally getting around to swipe the mascara off her cheeks as she bent even closer into Parker's space, "but she's invested. I think it's totally time you post him on your story."

"My what?"

"I mean, he already posted you. Or, you know, your store," she corrected herself, waving a hand around flippantly as if those were the same thing. And, maybe, in the mind of a teenage fangirl, they were. "Relationships are never official until it's on the page."

"We're not—"

"Have you thought about a ship name, yet?" she barreled on, completely ignoring the fact that every extra word she said was only compounded the migraine growing between Parker's temples. "Because I think Ryvers is so, totally cute, but Emily likes Parom better. Although, that sounds a little—"

"Okay, alright, that's it," Parker stood from her stool, and in the matter of seconds had shooed the teenager outside with as much decorum as she could muster. It was ruined, of course, by the bright red blush sprawling across her face like wild fire. "Goodnight, Melissa. Thank you for your help today, I will see you next week."

"But—"

"Goodbye!"

She shut the door with the jingle of the overhead bell and promptly slumped against it. A few beats passed before Melissa's boots clomped off in the direction of the bus stop, and when it fell silent outside, she glanced around. The store at night, with the main lights switched off and the crackled radio drifting from the corner, felt eerily empty after the busy day they had. And while the trash absolutely needed to be taken out, and the shelves needed to be catalogued for what she would have to put in her upcoming order, for the first time ever, Parker decided that there were some things that could wait until tomorrow.

After all, she had a boy to talk to.

---

"Are we dating?"

Tom, dressed down in some Nike sweats and a simple black tee with sleep marks red on the side of his face, blinked at Parker like she was on drugs. And, honestly, she supposed that was a fair assumption to make. After all, it was nearing midnight by the time she pulled into his driveway, unannounced, her hair mussed like a bird's nest from driving the entire way into the Hills with the windows down, and the anxious energy from the day's chaos had yet to make itself useful other than by adding a shakiness to her hands.

And while she had spent the entire drive over contemplating all the things that she wanted to ask him, the first thing that had come out of her mouth when he opened the door was that.

"What?"

Parker winced, anxiously wringing her hands together, before she pressed inside. She supposed having a mansion in the Hills meant that even the closest neighbors were too far away to hear anything, but the idea that there might be someone witnessing what likely could be considered a mental breakdown was not a comforting thought.

"I didn't mean..." she started, shaking her head, before she stooped to untie her shoes. That proved to be an impossible task with how shaky her hands, were, however, and in the end she just kicked them off with a grunt. "That wasn't what I—well, Melissa seems convinced that we are."

Parker could feel his eyes burrowing into her back, and Parker pointedly avoided eye contact as her cheeks flamed a hot red.

"Melissa," he echoed dully.

Cool, she thought to herself. Just be cool.

But the Seavers siblings were not known for their ability to play it cool, and while he drifted after her, Parker miserably tried to think of a way to explain her squirrel-brained thoughts without sounding like a lunatic.

"Well, you know, you posted me on Instagram."

"I didn't post you on my Instagram," he corrected.

And—shit. Wasn't that exactly what she had argued?

Parker was happy that her back was to him as her face flushed an even more indelicate red. It didn't help that there were lamps on all throughout the living room, orange and yellow hues of lighting casting shadows across her already warm face.

"I know, I know, and I told her exactly that, but she has it in her head that posting, well, my shop is the same thing as posting me and then she wouldn't shut up about it today. And now she wants me to hire her friend who is also convinced that we're, you know, dating, and I told her that she's—that that's not—you know..."

The knit of his brows made it painstakingly obvious that Tom didn't know, and honestly how would he? She didn't even know what she was trying to say.

"I... think I need a drink," she muttered, scurrying to the fridge where she withdrew two ice cold bottles of beer. IPAs were not her favorite by a long shot, but there were far more important things to handle, and without hesitating, Parker popped one open. A long swallow followed before she awkwardly slid the second bottle towards Tom. "Maybe I should start again."

His brows disappeared into his hairline, but the moment she met his eye Parker just knew that he was relishing in this particular conversation.

She planted her elbows on the counter, and caught her head in her hands with a whine. "I really wish that you had given me a heads-up about the post."

Whatever was smug withered and died. "A heads-up?"

"Just so I could have been more prepared, you know," she hedged, fingers nervously plucking at the wet label on her beer bottle. "Between the crowds today and my system freezing and Melissa pestering at me about our—you know—whatever, I feel like I've been running around like a headless chicken. It's been a lot to handle."

He was silent for a long moment, and by the time that she dared to glance at him he had managed to shake off any remaining sleepiness. Now, he scowled at her long and hard. "Right, well, next time I'll make sure to get your approval ahead of time. Should I have changed the picture too? Written a longer post about how much I fucking adore your shitty little store?"

Parker reared back. "Hey, it's not shitty."

"Right," he scoffed, shaking his head at her. "You know, most people would at least hold off on their complaints until after they've said thank you. Common deceny, and all that."

Parker deflated against the counter as Tom looped around the other side of the couch to sit down. There were pillows sprawled across it, a blanket pooling on the ground, and a Tom shaped indent in one of the cushions from where he had been sleeping before she showed up. When he flicked the tv off mute, Parker became increasingly aware of how poorly this conversation was going.

She took a deep breath and a long dreg of her beer before carefully seating herself on the table smack dab in his line of view. When he refused to give in, however, she took the remote out of his hand and flicked the tv off with a huff.

"Tom—"

But he wasn't having any of it, and he rolled his eyes at her so intensely that it must have hurt. "Oh, fuck. Look, if you're going to make this into some big lecture or whatever you can save us both the time and effort. I already spent the day dealing with this bullshit from Gail. I don't need it from you too."

As almost every mention of his producer did, that caught her off guard. "Gail?"

"Yeah, imagine that," he scoffed. "I try to do something nice, for once, and the first thing she does is yell at me because of it. And now you're here doing the same thing, and I don't even know what I expected, but it sure as shit isn't—"

"Why would she yell at you?" she interrupted.

He finished half of his beer in a swallow. "Why do you think?"

She wasn't sure. That was half the reason she asked the question, but when he tensed—as if preparing for that exact sort of answer—Parker's mouth snapped shut just as quickly as it had opened.

Why would Gail be upset?

Sure, she was his producer, and likely was miffed about missing out on her fee, but it wasn't like a percentage of twenty grand would have had any real impact on her salary. After all, Tom hadn't minced his words earlier when talking about how much of his yearly income went to the movie mogul. And Parker had seen her house; the woman wasn't going to be pinching pennies any time soon unless she was robbed at gunpoint. And even then she would probably benefit from her high profile connections.

Which meant if it wasn't the money that she cared about, it must have been...

Realization was a painful thing, and Parker rounded towards Tom with wide eyes. "She's upset because you did this without asking her?"

Another swallow of his beer. "I told you that I don't do stuff without asking her."

"But you did this time."

"Because she would have fucking said no," he ground out, distaste over even having to admit it obvious from his tone. "Which is fucking—I mean, it's my fucking life. I can do what I want. Should be able to, anyway. I'm the one making her money, but I do this one thing and she's all pissed off about it. You know how small that makes me feel? That she would even expect me to get permission from her?"

"Tom," she said, only to have him steamroll on.

"It's bullshit. Total bullshit."

"Tom," she tried again when he didn't seem to hear her.

But whatever floodgate he had opened wasn't closing anytime soon, and Parker felt her chest constrict. "Everything I do is because she tells me to do it. I don't even chose who I sponsor. But I do one post without her permission and get shit for it. And apparently, not just from her. Because you're here too, pissed that I didn't tell you ahead of time, and it's like no matter what I do it's—"

Not knowing what else to do, but knowing that she had to do something, Parker lurched forward to sling her arms around his neck. He went stiff beneath her touch, freezing as she attempted to pull him to her, before his hands slowly bracketed around her waist.

"What are you—?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered. Then, when that wasn't enough—because how could that ever be enough—she tightened her hold on him hoping that it might convey what she didn't know how to say. Parker shook her head into the crook of his neck, swallowing. "Fuck, Tom, I'm sorry. I didn't come over here to yell at you. I swear I didn't. I'm not even mad, I don't know why I said that thing about the heads-up, I just... I just was so overwhelmed today that I didn't know what to say or how to bring it up or thank you that I just—I just word vomited. Okay? I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry."

"Hey," he said, arms tightening around her. "It's okay."

But it wasn't okay, and he had to know that. "But it's not, Tom. You just—you just changed my life, you know? What you did... I've never had that many people in my store before, and they were lined up, and the line didn't dissipate all day! I think I sold, like, half my inventory because of you, and if that continues even for a month then I'll be able to actually finance my store and I won't have to close and... I'll never be able to thank you enough for that."

She leaned back to find Tom frowning at her. "It was just a post."

"To you, and to Gail," she said, finally being able to express what she had been stewing on all day. "But to me... it's everything. I don't know how I'll ever be able to pay you back."

"Pay me back?"

"I mean, I could give you some of the profit, but it probably won't be much. Especially since I still have loans to pay off, and I need to get insurance, and fix the AC, and maybe even hire some new staff, but I'm sure I could give you percentage. Like, a little over time, and it definitely won't be much, but—"

She didn't realize she was rambling until Tom shook her. "I don't want you to pay me back, Park."

"But—"

"Nah," he said, shaking his head at her. One of his hands twisted into the cotton of her sweater, and for the first time that night, as he ducked his head to avoid her gaze Parker realized that maybe he was just as anxious about this entire thing as she was. "I owe you, okay. Not the other way around."

Parker couldn't think of anything more ridiculous than that, and her brows furrowed a divot into her forehead. "What are you talking about?"

He released a chuckle of disbelief, the sound low and raspy in his throat. "I know I'm an asshole. What you said when we first met, that day on the set, it pissed me off so much because... you were right, and no one else had ever bothered to tell me. I'm an asshole to staff and to the crew and to your fucking brother, but do you seriously think I'm blind to all the things that you've done for me?"

Floundering for words—and thoughts—all she could do was blink at him.

Tom glanced away, fingers wrapping themselves into her shirt, skating a burning line over her skin. "You—you're..." he started, before drifting off. Clearly, she wasn't the only person struggling to put their thoughts into words tonight, but Parker was too dumbfounded by the fact that Tom Ryder was admitting to be an asshole above all else, that she couldn't find the energy to interrupt him. "No one has ever... held me accountable before."

Even more bewildered then before, she stared at him. "And that's... a good thing? Because I thought that drove you crazy? I mean—"

"God, of course it drives me crazy," he cut her off with another chuckle. "But you do it because—because you see something in me that no one else does, you know? You see... me. Not the rich, famous me that everyone else sees and takes advantage of, but the asshole on the inside that no one else likes. Do you know how many people have found me in the bathroom like you did? Do you know how none of them have ever cared before?"

Parker's hands skated around his neck, desperate for something to hold onto, to feel, as she gently flattened them out on his chest. "You don't owe me anything for that," she said, shaking her head. "You didn't have to do this just to make up for that. I like being in your life, being your friend, your... I think more people care about you than you think, Tom."

He swallowed, and her eyes tracked the movement of his throat. "And you're the only person in my life that would say shit like that and mean it."

"Of course I mean it. I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know," he said, hands drifting further up her back, a connection that she didn't dare break as they settled into the groove of her spine. "And that's why I did it. So I don't want anything from you, alright? I just... want to give you this. Fuck Gail, fuck my social media manager, fuck all of them. Just this once I want to do something for someone else. Well, no, even that's a lie. Not for someone else, but for you."

Parker bit her lip, feeling her heart thump against her chest, and she was certain that he must have felt it too as she leaned against him. "Really?"

"Yeah," he said. "You're—just... you're not like other girls, you know that?"

Despite the tension growing between them, the softness of the moment and the tender way he was holding her, Parker couldn't keep back a startled laugh. And when she did laugh, Tom's hands paused in their movements, brows knitting a second time as he watched her with something wary struck across his features.

"Sorry, sorry," she said almost immediately, biting her lip, only for another giggle to escape. He looked truly put off then, and she carefully skated her hands back around his neck. "I just... sorry, I'm not laughing at you. That just so sounded like a line."

The wariness vanished, replaced by irritable fondness, and his hands pressed her closer. "Yeah, well," he said, that oh-so familiar smugness of his curling his mouth upwards. "What if it was?"

"Oh?"

He shrugged, pressing on. "Lots of girls would kill to hear that kind of line from Tom Ryder, you know? You should consider yourself lucky."

"I thought I wasn't like other girls."

"You're not. No other girl has ever driven me fucking crazy like you do."

"Flattering," she snarked. But the skate of his hands was starting to ignite a nervous fluttering in her stomach, and as her nails dug into his shirt, Parker could barely maintain a sense of decorum as she smirked at him. "Well? Go on then."

"With?"

"You've given me a line. I'm interested in seeing what other sorts of moves the famous Tom Ryder has to woo the ladies. You want to show me your wine cellar? Art collection? Is there a disco ball that comes down from your ceiling if I clap?"

His entire torso shook as he laughed. "See what I mean? You're drive me fucking crazy."

"Ah, maybe, but that wasn't a no—"

Parker swore that a single kiss from Tom Ryder had the ability to set her entire body alight. Sometimes, she wondered if he felt it too; the way the pads of his thumbs would trail a burning line along her skin or how her hands got shaky as she trailed them up into his hair. His hands certainly didn't shake; not when they pulled her sweater over her head or drifted along the length of her legs, fingers dipping into the ticklish spot behind her knees, tugging her impossibly closer before moving up, up, up...

This time, there was no party to return to, no busybodies to avoid or assistants needing Tom's attention in between fittings on set, and most importantly no phone to chirp at them or brother to distract.

There was just her and him, Parker and Tom.

And when the tension between them—once ugly and mean and festering and awful, now golden and beautiful and, maybe even destined—finally broke, she realized that it wasn't so bad to have someone to drive crazy; perhaps, even, it was the spark that she had been missing.

#falling without a harness #tom ryder #tom ryder x ofc #tom ryder series #the fall guy #the fall guy series #original female character #tom ryder imagine #series

29 notes · View notes