#Listener why are you pretending to be a bartender

[flowerpotmage]

anyway, since im in financial aid hell with my school rn....

simon riley who really is only an acquaintance to you, some guy you're friendly with because you seem to have a similar routine when it comes to the cafe two blocks from your house and the physical therapist office you both attend.

simon, who's on extended medical leave from a torn rotator cuff surgery and six weeks into twelve of his own physical therapy treatment.

simon who overhears you with a friend in the cafe one morning venting your frustrations with the cost of school and the limits of your own finances. who doesn't mention it until you're both in the waiting room, sitting with one chair between you as usual (he's a big guy, he likes the space to spread his legs. he pretends he hasn't seen your glances).

"going back to school, then?" he asks, quiet and gruff as always.

you wrinkle your nose at the reminder of your current stresses. "yeah," you say, staring down at the carpet. "dunno if i can afford it, though. rent's already so high, and groceries, and then this..." you gesture vaguely, but he knows you mean whatever condition it is you're here for is bleeding you dry.

"shame," he says, and leaves it at that.

"what do you do?" you ask after a long moment of silence. a muscle in his thigh twitches.

"military," he says, meeting your eye when you finally look at him.

you nod, a puzzle piece sliding into place about why he must be here in this office with you. "ah."

"benefits aren't bad," he says, quietly. "medical's paying for all o' this." he nods around the room, a much more leisurely mirror of your earlier hand gesture.

"i should hope so, considering they probably put you where you got whatever it is you're here for." the corner of your mouth lifts in a wry smile.

the conversation stops there when one of you is called in to your appointment. simon doesn't bring it up again, not until something changes.

you run into each other at a bar.

simon's got a beer in hand, something cold and refreshing while he catches up with soap and gaz in the corner. they're on a brief leave and stopped by to visit for an evening before fucking off for a week to wherever it is they have plans to be. simon won't ever say it in as many words, not right now, but he's glad to see them, happy to listen to whatever story they're telling him, until he sees you.

he downs the beer for an excuse to go get another, waving off the two men who offer to go get it when he says "need to stretch my legs," eyes fixed on you the whole time.

"celebratin'?" he asks when he slides into an empty space beside you at the counter, catching the bartender's attention for a refill with a lazy raise of his empty bottle.

"simon," you greet in surprise. he nods at your drink and your slight smile slides away. "not really," you reply to his question. "more like drowning my sorrows. i don't think school's gonna happen this time."

simon frowns, eyes scanning you up and down. your drooped, sad shoulders, the sad, slightly bitter smile that doesn't reach your eyes.

"you know," he says, slowly, as if hesitant. normally wouldn't even dare to think it if he hadn't had just enough to drink. "there's plenty scholarships for military spouses."

it's a wonder he can keep a straight face at the shocked raise of your eyebrows.

[joostsblog]

i loved to be desired sm omg. Could i request a joost x reader where reader is partying with joost and friends. they meet ski aggu and are chilling and they tell ski that they are super into joost but joost isnt into them and they are sad about it. The ski aggu makes it his mission to make joost jealous to get them together and there is a lil angst but reader and joost end up together and making out.

loved writing this request!! i love shy!joost in this, hope you enjoy!!❣️❣️

is this as good as it gets? ~ joost klein one shot

My masterlist here ✨💌

Pairing: Joost Klein x female!reader (also Ski Aggu x reader if you squint ig)

Description: When you almost lose all your hope getting with Joost, Aggu proposes an interesting idea to get the two of you together.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: title and also vibe inspired by as good as it gets by fizz so i highly rec giving that song a listen! again, you can still send in requests 💌

Warnings: consumption of alcohol and cigarettes, not proofread

You should write Mel a thank you note, really. For one because she always lets you crash at her place whenever you visit Berlin (which happens to be very frequently, actually) but also for tagging along to her party nights with her Berlin friends which also include the famous German rapper Ski Aggu and his dutch friend Joost who you couldn't seem to keep your eyes from. Ever since you first met last time you were in Berlin (which was only three weeks ago) you were crushing on the man - hard. And suddenly you were pretending you knew more about music than you actually did just so you could try to hold a conversation with Joost. And you stepped out one time too many to smoke a cigarette with him when you usually smoked maybe two cigarettes within one year. And overthinking whatever you should wear to go out with Mel and all her friends without even knowing if Joost was gonna be there that evening as well.

And when you decided to visit Mel again just three weeks after having been the last time ("Already?"), maybe Joost was a deciding factor as well. You didn't even know if he was gonna be in Berlin around the same time as well but you were in luck when you and Mel walked into the bar and you could see Joost's figure sitting beside Aggu. You tried to play it cool as you greeted everyone and finally got to Joost.

"So nice to see you again," you said earnestly as you both hugged.

"Likewise," Joost said and gently rubbed your back. You hoped that he wasn't just being polite and actually remembered you.

You were also in luck when there was a free spot beside Joost which you could take as you tried to casually open a conversation with him, talking about whatever the two of you had been up to in the last few weeks. You talked about his hometown, your hometown, why you were visiting Berlin so often and how you were thinking of moving here. You could tell that Joost was taking interest in the conversation and by extension you, but it wasn't enough for you. You knew that you wanted Joost in other ways and you wondered how and if you could persuade him of you.

"I'm getting a new drink," you announced. "Does anybody want anything?" you asked and hoped Joost would say something or offer to come with you to the bar.

"Actually, I'll go with you," Ski Aggu offered instead.

"Alright," you smiled and you two headed off to the bar.

The bar was incredibly crowded and you could already tell that you would have to wait a while until the bartender would get around to take your orders. You leaned against the counter.

"So, does Joost visit here often?" you asked and immediately regretted it as it came out way too obsessively as you had intended to. Aggu laughed.

"Why do you want to know?" he asked amused.

"I don't know, just because I don't live here as well," you tried to casually explain.

"Yeah, well, he's working on new music currently, so he comes here a lot," Aggu said and paused as he seemed to contemplate for a moment. "Joost is cute, right?" he tested you. Blood rushed to your head.

"I suppose," you shrugged nonchalantly.

"Nah, come on, he's very cute, we can agree on that," Aggu pushed jokingly.

"I imagine most girls would agree," you said.

"Maybe, but I'm talking about you," Aggu said and poked your shoulder as he said the last word. "Do you think he's cute?" he asked again. "Or sexy or dreamy or whatever?"

"Yeah, I think Joost is very cute," you blushed. "Is it obvious?" you asked.

"Well, I think Mel mentioned how you're not a smoker when we first met and suddenly Joost is here and all of a sudden you're out with him for a smoke every hour or so," he teased and you hid your face behind your hands in embarrassment.

"Oh god," you groaned.

"Nah, come on, it doesn't matter," Aggu said. "Nothing to be embarrassed about," he insisted and removed your hands from in front of your face.

"Yeah, but Joost definitely doesn't like me," you explained with a saddened expression on your face. Aggu raised an eyebrow.

"How do you know that?" he inquired.

"I don't know, I just feel like he's deliberately treating me like a friend, you know, in a very platonic way only," you tried to explain. "Like he's very persistent about me just being a friend - if that," you said. Aggu looked sceptical.

"Listen, I don't know if Joost likes you back but I do know that he's a little awkward about flirting and expressing his feelings and whatever," he said. "He might need a little help to push him along," Aggu said with a knowing smile. You looked at him with a confused expression on your face. "You can say no to this if you want, but I have an idea for us," Aggu said and you nodded, indicating for him to keep going. "What if we both do a little thing to make Joost jealous?" Aggu proposed and your heart started racing.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Let's just try for tonight to spend a lot of time together, laughing a lot, sitting very close to each other, touching, flirting and just rubbing it in Joost's face that you're having a great time with me?" Aggu explained. "In fact, I saw Joost looking over at us standing here a few times already," Aggu pointed out and you looked over to the table where all your friends were sitting and as your gaze crossed Joost's eyes he immediately averted the gaze and looked in another direction. "We've got nothing to lose, either way the outcome, we'll just have a fun evening together," Aggu concluded.

You contemplated Aggu's idea for a second before you decided that he was right - you had nothing to lose. Aggu obviously was a nice and handsome guy so you wouldn't mind having a fun evening with him as well.

"Alright, it's a deal," you said with a smile and extended your hand before Aggu took it for a handshake.

"Alright, let's start with me buying you a drink," Aggu grinned and moved to stand closer to you. You casually rested your hand on Aggus bicep as you kept talking until the bartender finally took both of your orders.

"Is this okay?" Aggu asked as his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you.

"Yes," you said and you wondered whether Joost could see you right now, what he would feel at the sight of you two being so close to one another. "Thanks for the drink," you said and cheered your cup to Aggu's after you got your drinks.

"Scoot over," Aggu directed Joost as you got back to your table. You could read a confused expression on Joost's face for just a second before he darted his eyes back and forth between you and Aggu quickly. As Joost moved over from his spot Aggu could now sit beside him and you could take your seat beside Aggu.

As you were talking with Aggu you made an effort to seem careless and laugh at every joke he made, softly grazing his arm if the chance occurred or bite your lips as you watched his face. It took everything in you to look to the left of Aggu to check on Joost. You were so desperate to see whether he was fazed by your spiel. But you knew you needed to ignore him for the time being. Aggu took the biggest leap so far when he casually wrapped his arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him as you giggled.

"Alright, I'm going for a smoke," Joost announced almost immediately after. Aggu's arm dropped from your shoulder as you both had to move over to let Joost out of the booth. After Joost got out he stood there for a moment looking down at you with a blank expression. Did he wait for you to join him for a cigarette as you always had in the past? Surely not, you thought before Joost turned around to get outside alone.

~

Joost leaned against the wall outside as his cigarette was slowly nearing its end. Usually, you would be leaning against the wall beside him as well and he would intently listen to whatever story you were telling him, always grateful that you were so good at making conversation. If it weren't for that fact you might as well would have never talked to each other. And although Joost tended to be a little quieter around you, he was hanging onto every word you said. The truth is, Joost was a little shy around you because you mattered to him. Because he liked you, he was way too afraid to mess something up. So he stood back instead.

But now he was cursing himself for doing so. Because apparently now you had enough of him and instead you were attached at the hip with Aggu. And the situation was made worse by the fact that Aggu was Joost's friend. He was annoyed at Aggu for snatching you away from him but he knew he shouldn't feel angry and instead be happy for his friend.

Joost flicked his cigarette to the ground and stumped it out before he decided to get back inside. As he looked over to the table where you and your friends sat he caught your gaze. You were sitting on Aggu's lap, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. Joost stood still, the sight really making him not want to sit back down beside you. Aggu leaned into you and whispered something into your ear as you were still looking over at Joost who couldn't hide the sad expression on his face.

Joost felt uncomfortable and looked down at his phone before he decided to step out again instead of sitting back down at the table. Time for another cigarette or just maybe go back home already. As Joost lit the cigarette in his hand, the door to the bar opened again and you stepped out into the cold.

"Hey," you said softly.

"Hey," Joost replied with a nod. "Want one?" he asked and held out his hand with his pack of cigarettes. Your arms were crossed in front of your body because of the temperature. You looked down at his offer before you declined.

"You know I usually don't smoke," you admitted.

"Really?" Joost asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "That's news to me," Joost said although it really shouldn't come as a surprise to him as he noticed that you never carried your own pack of cigarettes.  

"I know," you laughed. "Are you having a good evening?" you asked.

"Not really," Joost admitted honestly.

"How come?" you asked and Joost didn't answer. Instead, he just shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. You could feel an aura of sadness radiating from him and you suddenly felt really bad for the spiel you and Aggu had been doing tonight. Although you still didn't know how Joost felt about you, you wondered if you had somehow contributed to his bad mood tonight.

"How long are you staying in Berlin for?" Joost asked after he released a puff of smoke.

"Another two days," you said. "You?" you asked in return.

"'M leaving next week," Joost said. "You should come back soon," Joost tried nonchalantly, giving you a sign that he cared about you in some way.

"You think?" you said with a smile.

"Yeah, you're fun to have around," Joost said.

"Well, I'm sorry if I haven't been around you tonight a lot," you said earnestly.

"It's fine," Joost said. If he had the confidence of Aggu, Joost would only have to take one step forward to engulf you in a kiss. "Can't blame Aggu," he said and immediately realised the implication of his words. He looked up at you again and saw a smirk on your face.

"You know me and Aggu aren't actually-," you tried to explain. "We're just friends," you said and Joost could feel a blush creeping on his face.

"Oh?" Joost said.

"Yeah, I'm interested in someone else actually," you said.

"Oh," Joost stated.

"If only he would notice already," you said and looked Joost deeply in the eyes.

"Maybe he's too shy," Joost offered.

"He doesn't have to be," you said and stepped towards Joost. You reached out for his hand and took the cigarette before you put it to your mouth to take a drag. As you let it fall to the floor Joost slowly and carefully reached out his arm to your hip without actually laying his hand on there. You stepped just a little closer until his hand touched your hip and you were standing so close you had to look up to him. "He could just kiss me," you said and it wasn't long before Joost leaned down, his hand finding the back of your neck, and his lips attached to yours.

You approvingly hummed into the kiss. Joost's lips tasted of beer and smoke but it was a divine taste to you as your lips started moving against each other in sync. You rested your hands on Joost's chest where you could feel his calm breathing. Joost's hands tangled in your hair as your lips parted to taste each other on your tongue. Your head was spinning, heart racing as you finally got what you had been looking for since the night you first met Joost.

As you pulled back from the kiss Joost cupped your face and looked down at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

"We should've done this way sooner," he stated.

"That's what I've been saying!" you laughed before you leaned back in for another kiss.

[perseephoneee]

PLEASE do something super fluffy with kol mikealson

i love ur work sm!!

babe you're making my day. hope this is something akin to what you wanted.

"you're red." "shut up." "like actually vermillion." (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

warnings: kissing?? also hatred towards bed and breakfasts

a/n: i forgot how much i love writing for kol. sorry for the large writing break...hope this makes up for it?

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist

You hate Kol Mikaelson. 

He’s cocky, impulsive, and constantly getting you into danger that you would never find for yourself. He also relentlessly flirts with you until you’re warm and deeply frustrated.  He’s complicated enough that you wish he wasn’t a part of your life so it could resume a sense of normalcy. 

Getting caught up in Mikaelson drama was never your plan. You just happened to make the mistake of working as a bartender at Russo’s—where they frequented. Klaus took a liking to you, and the rest is history. Being a human that’s friends with vampires is like poking a bear; not recommended nor convenient. 

This recent conflict was forgettable but proved to be a disruption to your life. One of them annoyed someone, and that someone wanted revenge, and now apparently you were in danger, and so on and so forth. You have repeatedly debated sending an invoice to the Mikaelson compound for restitution. You don’t think Klaus would find it very funny. 

You almost forgot about your life being in danger until you were forced to go on the run with the youngest brother, Kol. Kol, who insisted on driving you nuts. You kept trying to tune him out in the car, listening to the radio or focusing on the trees speeding past your window. Still, he was relentless and wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute. Plus, he was a horribly reckless driver, and you were gripping the door so tightly that you might hurt a muscle any minute. 

“I’ve lived for a very long time, but I’ve never visited Fes,” Kol said, one hand on the wheel as the other tapped on the door. You barely spared him a glance. “Would you visit Fes?”

“Not even sure what Fes is,” you answered through gritted teeth, suppressing a yelp as Kol took a turn obnoxiously fast. 

“City in Morocco considered its cultural capital.”

“You sound like a Google search,” you scoffed, sparing him half a glance. Long enough of a glance for Kol to give you a toothy grin, his canines glinting in the sunlight. 

“I like knowing things,” he states, squinting at you. “I don’t know much about you. Tell me something.”

“No.”

“Please?” he begged, every bit a kid enjoying picking on the new kid on the playground. You fixed him with a dead stare. 

“I hate your driving.” That caused him to laugh, which made him throw his head back and speed up even more. You clutched the handle and clenched your teeth till you felt your whole body would seize up. Kol eventually took pity on you and slowed down. It was enough for you to relax…slightly. “Where are we going?”

“Nowhere. Anywhere. Haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Brilliant. I’m going to die out here,” you sighed, sinking deeper into the leather seat. 

“Nonsense. Nik would dagger me if I let that happen, and I’m very tired of being daggered.”

“Not because you care about me or want me to live?” you jested, quirking a brow at him. 

“Now, why would I care about you at all?”

You pretended it didn’t sting, even though it felt impossible for you to care about Kol. Still, hearing him say it felt a bit like a slap in the face. You just turned more out the window, ignoring him. You didn’t notice the sharp look he sent you, as if he regretted what he said. 

Instead, you notice a sign advertising a Black Bear Diner. You perk up immediately, tapping the window and looking back at Kol. 

“There. Stop there.”

“That piece of garbage?”

“Yes! Stop the car!” you shouted, regretting your words when Kol slammed on the brakes. “Stop the car slowly, you asswipe.”

“You should’ve clarified that,” he smirked. You jumped out of the car, ran towards the restaurant, and experienced euphoria when the smell of waffles and fresh coffee hit your senses. Kol walked up slowly, hands in his pockets. The sun was obnoxious out here, but there were enough trees in the area to not make it feel like a desert. You could even see the mountain in the background in all its snowcapped glory. 

The inside of the diner was a welcome breeze on your damp skin. It wasn’t very crowded, and you got seated immediately as you happily flipped through your plastic menu. Kol looked slightly uncomfortable sitting in the diner, but you ignored him. You were getting pretty good at ignoring him. 

“I used to go here all the time with my family,” you said, flipping to the drinks page of your menu. “Not this exact location…but this chain. I went to it when I first moved to my hometown.”

“It’s barely gourmet.”

“Fuck gourmet, I want comfort. I want to feel like home,” you laughed, closing your menu. “Don’t you want that?”

“Home?” Kol inquired. “Not sure what that is anymore.”

Your lips turned down in a frown, but you offered nothing else. He didn’t seem like he wanted to talk, and you wouldn’t force him. The waiter came over to take your orders, and you happily ordered a black coffee, orange juice, and a waffle platter. After they left, you started packing your bag with the tiny jams and creamers they had out on the table. Kol just looked at you in disdain. 

“You are pathetic.”

“Rent is expensive, groceries are expensive, give me a break,” you snorted, taking a few sugar packets for good measure before you stopped looting. Kol laughed, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his seat. His leg bounced from anxiety, and his fingers tapped the table in a paradiddle pattern, just left, right, left, left, right, left, right, right over and over again. He looked shockingly young, like the boy before he turned, and not the man he paraded as. For a split second, you could see yourself having a crush on him in high school if he was one of your peers. You erased that thought as soon as it came. “Can I ask a question?” you leaned forward on the table, arms folded in front of you. “Why are you guys always protecting me? I’m definitely a liability.”

“I think my brother just wants to sleep with you,” Kol sighed. You snorted, biting your bottom lip to subvert your laughter. Honestly…you have managed to weasel your way into our family—like a parasite.”

“Aw, your words are so kind,” you rolled your eyes, kicking Kol under the table. He just kicked you right back, wearing a smirk. “And I would never sleep with your brother.”

“Why’s that?” Kol questioned, crossing his arms. 

“His face is weird,” you answered. Kol put his head in his hands in laughter, and you joined him a second later. You weren’t sure if that was the reason, but it was the first thing that came to mind, and you didn’t think to change it. Plus, it made Kol laugh, which kind of made you happy. The arrival of your waffles made you even happier. 

“Bloody hell, you’re going to eat all of that?” Kol looked shocked, eyes flicking between you and your waffles. He had ordered a much smaller plate than yours. Yours likely could’ve been a party platter. 

“Yes, and I will do it with pride.”

You did eat all of it, and enjoyed Kol’s expression the whole time. He looked so disturbed it made up for it. You also drank all your coffee, orange juice, and free water refills. Your plan was to eat enough to enter hibernation. You even think Kol was a little impressed at some point. Kol asked the waiter for the nearest hotel, and they pointed you to a place three miles down the road that would likely have openings. By the time you left the diner, it was starting to get cold as the sun was setting. You could hear crickets; you probably would’ve gotten fireflies if you were more south. Kol drove surprisingly slow towards the hotel, which you attributed to his worry that going fast would cause you to throw up your entire waffle extravaganza. He slowed down even more when you came up to the “hotel”—which was actually just a bed and breakfast. An extremely cutesy bed and breakfast. 

The inside of the building was somehow worse than the outside. 

The outside had small-town charm. The inside was where doilies went to die. 

Both you and Kol exchanged glances as he went up to ring the bell. You counted seven cat portraits before a portly woman came out with a cheeky smile. She wore a linen frock and a floral dress right out of the 1960s. 

“Well, good evening,” she smiled. “What can I do for you?” She had a thick Minnesotan accent, and her smile made her eyes. Overall, she radiated friendliness. 

“We’d like a room?” you inquired, leaning against the counter. 

“Oh, you betcha! Lucky for you, I got the best suite in the house available. It’s perfect for you two lovebirds,” she chirped. Your eyes widened. 

“Oh, uh, we’re not together…,” you coughed. You turned to look at Kol, who just shrugged his shoulders. Completely useless. “Do you have a double?”

“Unfortunately, all our doubles are booked for our birding convention. I might have a futon available to bring to your room?”

“Perfect,” Kol smiled, finally interjecting. “We’ll take that.”

“Splendid! Here are your keys, and I’ll have you sign in there.”

You brought your one bag with you up the stairs and to the right to a room at the end of the hall. The wallpaper was mocking you at every turn, a plethora of orchids and pinks staring at you, along with the eyes of fifty million felines. You were certain Dolores Umbridge was hiding somewhere amongst the foliage. The room was less pink but still reminiscent of something in a senior home. The bed was the nicest part: a large four-poster with mahogany bedposts. The wallpaper was sage color with pictures of ferns. The ensuite bathroom had a clawfoot tub and gold décor. A painting of a young boy eating ice cream was on the wall. You immediately took it off the wall and turned it around so you didn’t have to look at it all night. 

“It’s a little…”

“Cozy?” Kol interjected, closing the door behind you two. 

“I was going to say tight.”

“It is the lovebird suite, darling,” Kol whispered in your ear, a smirk in his voice. A shiver ran down your spine. 

“I’ll take the futon.”

“I doubt you could fit a futon in here,” Kol scoffed. He was right. There was really only room for the bed and bedside tables. Whoever designed this room intended to spend a lot of time in bed. Your cheeks heated at the thought. You tapped your foot in thought before eventually sighing in defeat.

“Just…don’t get too handsy,” you shrugged, glaring at the vampire’s ever-present smirk. 

“Handsy? You must think me a rascal,” Kol cooed, stepping closer into your space. The room was tight, which meant you were backed against the wall. You felt like a rabbit being targeted by a fox, his mischievous grin and wandering eyes taking all of you in. Your eyes were drawn to how he licked his lips, and suddenly, your blood pressure spiked. Heat crawled up your neck, and you knew that Kol noticed. He always managed to notice. 

“Knock it off, Mikaelson,” you hissed, tilting your head up defiantly. 

“You’re actually red,” Kol chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. 

“…Shut up,” you slapped his hand away, maneuvering your way from his grasp. 

“Like actually vermillion,” he laughed, and you gave him an unsavory gesture as you escaped into the bathroom, closing the door behind you. Back against the door, you breathed out, groaning into your hands. You pushed off the door, getting ready for bed in an effort to put this night behind you. You cleaned up, brushed your teeth, and put on pajamas. In hot weather, you usually just wear a T-shirt and shorts to bed. Your t-shirt said, ‘I got lobotomized at Freddy Fazbear’s,’ something idiotic that you couldn’t even fully be ashamed of. When you exited, Kol was lying on top of the covers on his phone, having changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. He looked up when you exited, snorting as he read the shirt. “You have an odd sense of humor.”

“It’s too evolved for you to understand,” you rolled your eyes, getting in on the other side of the bed and leaving space between the two of you. Kol smelled sweet, like vanilla, and it was slowly suffocating you. You both sat in silence for a second before Kol disrupted it. 

“Y/N,”

“No.”

“Darling,” he purred, inching closer to you. 

“What, Kol,” you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed. 

“You like me,” he said. It was not a question, just something he exclaimed. You scoffed. 

“I do not.”

“You do. It’s why you blush vermillion when I call you things like darling,” he smiled, propping himself up on his elbow as he lay on his side to stare at you. 

“You’re incorrigible.”

“So, if I kissed you…you wouldn’t care,” Kol inquired, voice soft as he sat up slightly. You felt your heart skip a beat, and Kol’s mouth turned up slightly when he heard it. You knew you just proved his point, but you refused to concede. 

“I wouldn’t care,” you whispered, holding his gaze. 

“So, when I do this,” Kol leaned up, kissing your cheek, his lips burning your skin. He kissed right under your jaw, finally on your pulse point. “…it doesn’t matter?” 

You bit your tongue to stop yourself. “It doesn’t matter,” you choke out, but all you’re doing is spurring Kol on. You’re a hare caught in his trap, and you can’t even find it in yourself to hate it. Kol sucks on your pulse point, nipping lightly and moving down your neck, one hand coming up to tilt your head more to the side for easier access. His touch was shockingly gentle as if he was giving you an out. Your will was thinning by the minute, though, and eventually, you grabbed his hand, causing him to stop. 

“Darling—” he starts, but you cut him off by kissing his lips, soft but passionate. For once, you’ve taken him off guard, and a sense of pride spurs through you as you part, kissing the corner of his mouth and looking at him through thick lashes. 

“Does it matter?” you ask, voice breathy. “For you…” You’re not sure exactly what you’re asking, but you know there’s a line you’ve crossed that you can’t return from. Kol’s thumb brushes your cheek, so gentle from the reckless, hotheaded vampire you are acquainted with. A grin crosses his face. 

“It means everything,” he smiles, kissing you again, fingers tangling in your hair. Your hands find his arms, sighing as he deepens the kiss. You’re on fire, every single part of you, and you’re sure that Kol can feel your racing heart and hot skin. You like kissing him, though, and you realize you like him a lot. 

“Kol?” you breathe. “Don’t sleep on the futon.”

“For you? I would never,” he grins, kissing you again. You make sure to put a Do Not Disturb sign on the door for later. 

…

Afterwards.

It’s the middle of the night when he wakes you up.

“I guess Nik won’t be able to sleep with you now.”

“Kol.”

“Because I’ll be the only one sleeping with you.”

“Go to sleep.”

There’s a shuffling of blankets as his arm wraps tighter around you, his breath hot on your neck. 

“You’re going to be stuck with me forever,” he whispers. 

You smile. “I’m okay with that.”

taglist:: @rafecameronswhore

[drewsbraziliangf]

funny seeing you here | Drew Starkey x black!fem reader

summary: after seven months of not seeing his face, you find yourself at the same party he’s at. And he clearly made it his mission to be noticed by you. So what are you gonna do now?

warnings: alcohol consumption, suggestive smut

a/n: Here's part 3 of nothing to say when heaven falls. As the title called it, it was 100% inspired by ‘funny seeing you here’ by Jack Harlow which I recommend listening to during the reading. Comments and reblogs are never required but always very much appreciated 🫶🏻

dividers by: @/saradika-graphics

"Hey," he said and you could barely hear the smile on his voice. "I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

No escape.

"Hi," you replied with a low voice, unsure if he had heard it over the loud music. "Yeah, I'm with Frankie."

"Uh, yeah, I saw her," he voices as he scoots slightly closer to you. "This does look more like her scene."

At that, you nod and mentally curse the fifth generation of this damned bartender who has yet to finish your drinks.

Everything around you is spiraling at this point. You were not ready for this, especially with how casual he's being about everything. It was not in your plans to run into him tonight and all you wanted was to get as far away from him as you could.

Your salvation comes in the shape of your friend, who you can see right past her excitement about how much she just wanted to take you out of that situation. She held your arm lightly and, it was as if you weren't waiting for almost ten minutes the bartender returned with both your drinks.

"Hey, uhm, what's taking so long?" Frankie says and pretends to be shocked when she looks up at Drew. "Oh hey! Long time, no see." As the words leave her mouth you notice how the stiff smile on her face shows her displeasure at his presence.

"Hi Frankie," he says a little taken back by her and you notice how he starts tapping his fingers against the glass the same way you were doing moments ago. A shared habit that the both of you didn't get to brush off of one another it seems.

"Let's go, babes! I still have so much to tell you."

With your drinks at hand, you followed her and immediately felt a weight fall off of your shoulders. Still, you weren't able to hold back and you looked over your shoulder just to see him checking you out.

Your face was burning after that and you just prayed to whatever God that Frankie was able to distract you enough to make you not act on the alcohol in your veins.

It wasn't a secret to anyone the effect that he had on you. I mean you were together for years and about to get married - obviously, you had to be attracted to him. And he just had this thing about him that made it very hard for you to ignore.

He looked handsome, but that was no surprise. He always looked so fine, except this time it seemed like he had filled out more. The black shirt he was wearing fitted him perfectly, the sleeves stretched around his biceps, and even from a glimpse you were able to notice how much bigger they were since you last saw him. His outgrown hair now looked more like a growing mullet and, god, that did work with him. At this point, you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or your brain talking about how insanely good he looked.

“Y/N, honey, you good?” She asked once the both of you got back to your spot.

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, why wouldn’t I be?” You retorted to which she just stared at you with uncertainty.

“I don’t- I don’t know, you just looked like you were about to vanish in thin air back there,” she voices smoothly still looking at you.

“Yeah, I uh, I guess I just wasn’t expecting that to happen,” you confess.

She nods and sips on her drink, her own eyes scanning the room this time, and once she looks up at you once more you see a glimpse of regret there.

“I didn’t know. Had I known I wouldn’t have brought you here,” She declares with sorrow and you shake your head quickly.

“Hey, I know that! Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

At that, neither of you is sure enough.

You could feel that it was way past one in the morning, the air just felt different. The party was less crowded but the music was still blaring through the speakers. Frankie was entertained in a talk with a tall dark-skinned man who was whispering in her ear every now and then earning giggles from the brunette.

You had been nursing the drink in your hand for a while now, the condensation around the glass caused your fingertips to be wet. You were much more drunk than you’d normally get, but for once in a long time it felt good to let yourself go.

Still the numbness the alcohol brought, did not evade the feeling of what happened earlier. It had been so long since the last time and you were not expecting to see him like that. What would’ve happened if Frankie had not interrupted him? What would you have done?

“Hey,” You heard Frankie’s voice closer to your ear this time, “Would you mind if I left for a while? I promise I’ll be back and you won’t even notice.”

It amazed you that even with the amount of drinks she had, her pleading eyes didn’t fail to convince you. And honestly, she needed to have fun with the hot guy as well. So with a nod you sent her off watching her excitement as she followed him.

At least you were alone with your thoughts and could think and rethink everything, from your coffee orders to your love life as you downed the last of your blue coloured drink. But as if they were trying to prove a point, the spot next to you did not remain empty for long.

The same cologne that woke forbidden memories hours ago was flooding your space once again but this time it was subtle. Almost as if it was fading and taking with it your sanity.

“I thought we’d never get the chance to talk again,” was what he said and it didn’t take you long to notice that he too was a few drinks in.

Guess this isn’t a sober conversation, huh.

“I’d rather if it stays like that,” you mumbled as you watched him push a bottle of cold water towards you.

“Come on, this is a quieter spot. I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while now,” He leans in, just like Trent did with Frankie.

It felt so weird being close to him like this after so long. It felt like getting something you’ve wanted for so long but you were scared that you got the wrong thing. Does that even make sense?

“How's your sister and your niece?” You asked since there was no escape.

“They’re fine. Both of them, Lily still cries a lot but they’re good,” he voices as he sips from his own drink.

You unscrew the water bottle and take a big gulp out of it. Why were your hands so sweaty now? You didn’t have an answer to that so you just nodded and looked around the room as less and less people filled the dance floor and the bar.

“You look beautiful,” his compliment breaks the silence and goes straight to those confusing thoughts you were having. You have to control yourself. “I thought a lot before talking to you earlier, but I just couldn’t help myself when you looked like this. So pretty”

Even with his sweet words you couldn’t forget who he was and the history between the two of you. It was hard because even if you denied it a part of you still missed him so much. I mean, you shared years of your life with him so it isn’t that easy to ignore how much his absence affects you sometimes.

“What are you doing here, Drew?” The words leave your mouth before you could even process the thought.

He doesn’t say anything for a while and you finally look at him. His hair was slightly darker than it was months ago, the low cut shirt he is wearing gives you a peak of his chest hair and some freckles he has there. Looking into his eyes made your blood freeze for a second, it was like you were drowning in the bluest sea.

He scratched his overgrown beard while he looked down at the cup he was drinking from.

“I miss you,” He confesses with a sigh.

You shake your head as you set the water bottle back on the table.

“No, you can’t do this now,” You say and pray that he can hear you over the music. “Not after everything.”

“I-I fucked up and I know that,” he admits and that makes you feel dizzy. “I want to make things right between us.”

“Oh, now? You don’t even know if I have someone,” you scoff. “How’s Odessa by the way?”

“I wouldn’t know. It’s been a while since I last talked to her,” he says.

“Well so it’s best if I look over your shoulder since she might pop up from thin air,” your snide remark doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not here to talk about anyone else but us. So can we please do that? Let’s find somewhere where we can actually talk because you just left and I know that what I did was the radon to that, but still.”

Your eyes met his for the second time that night and without much thought you found yourself nodding. You texted Frankie letting her know that you’d be getting an Uber home so she didn’t have to worry about you and in the next second you were following your ex out of the club.

It didn’t shock you that he was still living in the apartment you used to share. It looked almost the same just a few new pieces of furniture decorating the space and you couldn’t help but ask yourself if she had helped him to pick them out.

“Do you, uhm, wanna drink something?” He asked after he locked the door behind you.

“Yeah, I could use a glass of water.”

“Okay, lemme get that for you,” he says and walks to the kitchen.

You stay in the living room and take it all in. Why does his house feel this warm? Why did you feel comfortable in a place you chose to leave? Why wasn’t this freaking you out anymore? Before you could begin to dwell in any of those questions, his footsteps against the wooden floor pulled you from your thoughts.

“Here,” he hands you the filled glass.

“Thanks,” you say before taking a small sip from it.

“So, how have you been?” He asks and you can see that he immediately regrets it, “Fuck that’s a stupid question.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that and he quickly follows suit.

“I am okay. I’ve been worse, I’ve been better” you admit to which he only nods.

“I felt like shit, you know? I knew I was fucking up but I was so entranced by everything that was happening that I didn’t realize how much it was affecting you,” he says as he leans against the wall.

“It wasn’t easy for me to come up to you and say those things but I was so fed up that I didn’t know what to do anymore,” you admit as you take a step closer to him without even realising.

“I’m sorry. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t care about you or your feelings.”

“I guess I just didn’t want to be an intruder in our own relationship. There was a point where I felt like I needed to talk to her to get to you. And I know there is history between you two, I just didn’t want to doubt that there was still something going on.”

You sigh as one of your fingers traced the rim of the glass.

“I mean, there were a few times that I called your phone and she was the one picking it up. That made me feel so insecure and so scared that I was being lied to.”

“I-what? I didn’t know that.” He truly seemed surprised by your words.

“Well,” you scoff as you shake your head, “I guess she never told you that I called you then.”

You turn around and put the glass on the centre table. He simply watched you and even if he might not admit it yet seeing you in his house again made something in chest warm. Something in him just told him that you belonged there.

“You see, this is what I am talking about.” You add without turning to look at him. “This shouldn’t be normal.”

“I really didn’t know and when I looked at my calls registry your name wasn’t there so I assumed she was telling the truth.”

He did feel guilty about that, but he wasn’t lying. He truly didn’t know of that happenstance.

You sigh and you look back at him, your eyes burning as you feel a deep sense of deja vu.

“I really thought you were it for me, you know?” You confess and a tear streams down your face.

As if it was a reflex thing, he immediately reaches for you and wipes the tear off your face.

“I am so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that,” he says looking into your eyes.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the vulnerability that enveloped the both of you, but you couldn’t help more tears from following that first one. It felt so calming to be talking about this with him after so long, like a ton was being taken out of your chest. Obviously you had people to talk to but it wasn’t the same.

You rested your head on his shoulder as his hands were on the back of your neck. He went in for the first touch, his lips kissed the top of your head. That made you tense up for a second and as you looked up your gaze was immediately captured by his.

His nose touched yours first and as he leaned in for your lips, you couldn’t help but pull back. That happened twice more and you knew that he was frustrated but you were just so scared of opening up to him again.

“Please,” he begs with a breathy voice and as you look into his eyes you are able to see the same man you fell in love with years ago.

After that you didn’t resist anymore and his lips quickly found yours.

Oh.

One of his hands cradled your face as he deepened the kiss and the other was occupied squeezing the softness of your hips. Now, you could’ve lied to yourself about many things, but this was never one of them. He knew exactly where to touch you and how to do it.

You pressed your body against his and the sigh that left your lips when you felt his bulge pressed on your stomach. He moaned on your lips at the pressure and in a blink of an eye you had your legs wrapped around him.

He now held you with one of his arms as he guided the both of you towards the bedroom. His lips didn’t leave yours, the only time he broke the kiss was when he pulled your lower lip between his teeth, but in the next second he was devouring them again.

When he reached the bedroom he didn’t bother to close the door. He laid you on the bed and you breathlessly watched him pull his shirt off with one hand before he knelt between your legs.

Please God, don’t make me regret this.

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[songbirdseung]

mr. green flag / park jongseong

synopsis: after dating the wrong guys, you wanted to give up love and relationships. although, a man named park jongseong changed things for you.

pairing: nonidol!jay x nonidol!yn

warnings: cheating, red flag boyfriends, love triangles, cuss words

The bartender was most likely your best friend now since you basically came to the bar every week or two. Crying over a guy who definitely not worth your tears and time. But the bartender was very understanding of your situation and tried his very best to provide comfort and reassurance.

You found out his name was Terry. He's been working at the bar as his second job just to make extra money. Such a nice genuine guy, someone you wish you could date but for some reason, the universe hated your guts, or you just did so horrible in your past life that you need to be punished in this life.

"Okay, last one for tonight. You still got to drive yourself home" he slides your drink towards you with a serious but caring look on his face. "When are you going to break up with that douchebag?" all the arrows pointed to breaking up with him, but since you were so blinded, you couldn't just let him go. As stupid as it was, you loved him despite all the foolish and childish things he has done to you.

"I love you; I do. But I hate seeing you walk through the door with a frown on your face and tears running down your face. It's time you be single or date a good guy" terry doesn't know how many times he had already said these things to you, but he has to remind you every time.

On the drive home, you were dreading it. What if you open the door to your shared apartment with your boyfriend and see him banging another girl? why did you have to be so stupid and such a coward, why couldn't you just say the words "let's break up" or "I'm done" then follow up with a "get out of my apartment" then be over with it.

Luckily for you, the universe wanted to be a little bit kinder to you, you opened the door to your apartment and no, your boyfriend wasn't hooking up with someone. But you knew, he probably already did earlier in the day. As you make your way into the kitchen to drink some medicine and water, you receive a text from terry.

terry: don't forget what I said earlier, you can't say you forgot because we both know you're not drunk.

You sigh and head to your bedroom where your boyfriend is playing video games. You turn on the light and he immediately spin around in his chair and starts yelling at how you disrupted his game.

This is it; you just have to do it. Just say the words yn. "I'm breaking up you, by tomorrow morning, I expect you to be out of this house and my life."

That was a whole month ago, now you were currently single and moving on. Instead of being at the bar with terry, you were at the mall. "I'm proud of you yn, it's been a month and from what I've notice, you're doing great" you smile and nod, "I honestly did not know where the confidence came from when I broke up with him."

You recall all the times you got broken up with by your past 2 boyfriends. they all treated you the way your 3rd boyfriend did. Realizing that all these three, when you started dating them, they would put up a persona, a facade as if they were good guys and they would treat you the way you deserved. They promised things that turned to be absolutely bullshit and empty promises. Then down the road, they would slowly show their true colors and behaviors.

"Maybe I'm meant to be single, maybe i should just give up on relationships" terry listens to your rants and future goals. Listing down all the things you want to do now since you were free from manipulators and controlling men. "Who knows, Mr. right is just around the corner" he pretends to look around, but you miss the real intention or message behind that remark from terry.

Relationships and love were now long gone from your life, and you wanted it to stay that way. Being in those toxic and shitty relationships, you lost yourself. Now it was time to bring that lively and passionate girl back. to do so, old passions, goals, dreams were revisited and worked on again. as months passed, the old you started to resurface. You felt happy, you felt like yourself.

Once day, you went to visit your family house, and in that house, there was a basement where your old stuff was placed in boxes. You placed them there so no one could mess with them and for your old room to be used for whenever they had guest over. Looking through your stuff, you reached over for your guitar that was in its case. The instrument that was your whole life. It was quite upsetting that whenever you would play guitar in your apartment, your ex would get mad at you, claiming how loud you were and how bad you were at playing. it caused you to stop and feel insecure over something you so sure of since you were little. You placed the guitar on your lap and started playing, you haven't played in a long time, but muscle memory was helping you so much.

You got back on your game, focusing on school and looking for a part time job to earn money. You were spending so much time with yourself, you forgot to spend quality time with your friends too. You had terry, chaeryoung, and jake. You weren't a group, but you used to hang out with them separately.

Putting down the paint brush and picking up the disregarded phone on the floor, you dial jake's number. After a few rings he picks up with a sassy but not serious tone. "You remember I exist huh, yn?" you laugh in an apology and ask him if he wants to go out. To which he agrees and tells you he'd be there to pick you up in 15 minutes.

Jake and you go way back, you met him in Australia when you were on vacation. Everyone in your family were appreciating the view as they were sight-seeing. But you were more interested in the golden border collie that was staring back at you and wagging her tail as you made grabby hands at her. Only being 10 years old, your parents didn't let you go anywhere unsupervised, so they kept a tight hold on you, but you just had to pet the cute puppy. With enough wiggling out of their grasp and run away. "Hi, can i pet your puppy?" looking up at the lady who was holding the leash. She gives you the green light and starts asking you questions. "what's your name?" "Where are your parents?" "How old are you?" obviously, you answered her with respect. later, a young boy, who seems to be the son of the lady comes up and says hi. A very friendly boy with an Australian accent asks you if you wanna be friends.

That's where it all began. it was a long-distance friendship, not until jake decided to go back to Korea. You two have been glued to each other's hip since then, he was there for you for everything, for the good and bad. he's seen all the men you'd dated and unlike terry who was the "good cop", jake was the "bad cop" telling you how it was and even if it had to be said in the harshest way, he'd say it. When you told him you ended your recent relationship, happy was an understatement with how Jake felt.

Today, he still is your best friend. "Jake, stop letting me win, it ain't fun that way" stern look on your face as you stare at your best friend who is standing by the goal post. "I'm not, you're just really good" he shrugs his shoulders with that award winning smile. "you're not even moving; you're not even blocking the ball" you whine as you walk up to him.

The whole day was probably spent with Jake, it was getting dark, and it was time to part ways. or so you thought. Jake comes back to you after taking a call from a friend. "Hey, my friend Sunghoon called me saying how he has two extra tickets to that movie we were just talking about, you wanna go?" saying yes, you alert your parents with a text, letting them know you'll be home late.

On the way Jake opens up the topic of romance, asking for an update. "you're not seeing any losers, aren't you?" he chuckles, and he looks at the sour face you made. "No, I'm going to stay single for a long time" emphasize on the word long.

The whole time, you just thought that it would be the three of you, that you only had to meet Sunghoon. But no, you were standing there, with maybe the most good-looking guy you have ever seen. Jake would probably disagree and say it was him. Once you arrive and jake found Sunghoon, you immediately greet him and share banter, then another guy comes from the bathroom and greets you as well.

"Hi, I'm jay. You must be jake's friend he keeps complaining about." He jokes, and when he smiled, you might have just melted, he turns to Sunghoon, and you saw how sharp his jawline was. He was incredibly handsome that it makes you question if you should really give up on love or not.

"What do you mean, complaining...jake?!" you slap jake's arm and face your whole body towards him. "What have you been saying to them?!" you kept slapping his arm until he stops laughing and taking a hold of you. "I tell them how crazily stupid you are when it comes to dating and how I am tired of trying to save your ass yn" he explained while laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"If I was dating you, I think I'd be the one crazily in love" jay speaks and it makes your mind literally stop working, the cogs in your brain stopped and malfunctioned. "Damn you just met her, and you're already smitten?" Sunghoon chuckles and shakes his head, leading you all towards the room where the movie was going to play.

As the movie played, you couldn't help but steal glances at Jay, his profile illuminated by the flickering light of the screen. Each time your eyes met, a playful smile danced on his lips, igniting a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the theater's heating.

When the credits finally rolled, and the lights brightened, Jay turned to you with a grin. "Well, that was a rollercoaster," he remarked, his voice light with amusement. You chuckled in agreement, feeling a sense of ease settle between you. "Definitely kept us on the edge of our seats," you replied, matching his playful tone.

Stepping out into the cool evening air, the bustling chatter of the crowd surrounding you faded into the background as you and Jay fell into conversation. It was effortless, as if you'd known each other for years rather than mere hours. You found yourselves sharing anecdotes, swapping stories, and delving into shared interests with an enthusiasm that felt electric.

"So, what's your favorite movie of all time?" Jay asked, his eyes alight with curiosity as he turned to you. You paused, considering his question with a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, tough one," you mused, a smile quirking at the corners of your lips. "But if I had to choose, I'd say 'Inception.' The whole concept of dreams within dreams just blows my mind."

Jay nodded, his own smile widening. "Ah, a fellow fan of mind-bending plots," he replied, a hint of admiration in his voice. "I'm more of a 'Shawshank Redemption' guy myself. Can't beat a classic."

As you continued to chat and laugh together, the connection between you deepened, each shared moment cementing the bond that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second. It was a feeling unlike any you'd experienced before, a sense of belonging and understanding that left you yearning for more.

And as you walked side by side, the city lights casting a gentle glow upon your faces, you couldn't shake the feeling that this unexpected encounter with Jay was just the beginning of something truly extraordinary.

After the movie, as you all parted ways, Jay lingered, asking if you'd like to grab a coffee sometime. His smile was genuine, his eyes kind, and in that moment, you felt a glimmer of hope stir within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was something worth exploring beyond the scars of your past relationships.

As you said goodbye to Jay and watched him walk away with a quickening heart, Jake nudged you playfully. "Well, well, looks like someone's got a fan," he teased, grinning mischievously.

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. "Shut up, Jake," you replied, nudging him back. But deep down, you couldn't deny the warmth that Jay's presence had ignited within you, a flicker of possibility in a heart once shrouded in doubt.

In the days that followed your encounter with Jay, your mind became consumed with swirling doubts and questions, overshadowing the initial excitement and warmth you felt in his presence. Despite the undeniable chemistry and the effortless connection you shared, the scars of past heartbreaks loomed large, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your burgeoning feelings.

As you went about your daily routine, thoughts of Jay lingered in the back of your mind, a constant presence that refused to be ignored. You found yourself replaying your conversations, analyzing every word and gesture, searching for signs of hidden agendas or red flags that might betray his true intentions.

"What if I'm just setting myself up for another disappointment?" you whispered to yourself, the weight of past betrayals heavy on your shoulders. The fear of being hurt again, of having your trust shattered and your heart broken, threatened to suffocate the budding hope that had dared to take root in your chest.

You confided in your closest friends, seeking their advice and perspective on the situation. Terry offered words of encouragement, reminding you of your resilience and strength in overcoming past obstacles. "Don't let fear dictate your happiness," he urged, his voice gentle but firm. "Take a chance, yn. You deserve to find love again, and Jay might just be the one to help you rediscover it."

But despite Terry's reassurances, the nagging doubts persisted, gnawing at your confidence and filling your mind with endless what-ifs. What if history were to repeat itself? What if Jay turned out to be just like the others, another heartbreaker in disguise?

As you tossed and turned in bed, sleep eluding you in the late hours of the night, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that gripped your heart. The prospect of opening yourself up to love once more felt both exhilarating and terrifying, a delicate balance between hope and fear that left you teetering on the edge of indecision.

With a sigh, you sank into the soft cushions, the weight of your worries pressing heavily upon you. "I just... I don't know what to do, Chaeryoung," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so afraid of getting hurt again, of making the same mistakes I've made in the past."

Chaeryoung listened attentively, her gaze unwavering as she reached out to gently grasp your hand in hers. "I understand, yn," she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "But you can't let the fear of the past dictate your future. Sometimes, taking a chance on love means embracing the possibility of heartache, knowing that the journey is worth the risk."

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as Chaeryoung's words struck a chord deep within you. "But what if I'm not strong enough to handle it?" you whispered, the fear of vulnerability threatening to consume you.

Chaeryoung squeezed your hand reassuringly, her expression filled with unwavering support. "You are stronger than you know, yn," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "And you don't have to face this alone. I'll be here for you every step of the way, no matter what happens."

The day of your coffee date with Jay arrived, and despite the lingering doubts that still gnawed at the edges of your mind, you found yourself determined to embrace the opportunity with an open heart. As you stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down your outfit and running a nervous hand through your hair, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mingled with trepidation.

When you arrived, Jay was already there, waiting patiently at a table near the window with a warm smile on his lips. As you approached, his eyes lit up with genuine delight, and you felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at the sight of him.

"Hey, yn, I'm so glad you could make it," Jay said, rising from his seat to greet you with a friendly hug. "You look amazing."

You returned his smile with a shy grin of your own, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly at his easygoing demeanor. "Thanks, Jay," you replied, feeling a surge of gratitude for his kindness and understanding.

As you settled into your seats and engaged in conversation, you found yourself swept away by Jay's charm and wit, his easy laughter and genuine interest in getting to know you better putting you at ease. With each passing moment, the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you began to fade into the background, replaced by a sense of connection and possibility that left you breathless with anticipation.

Midway through the date, as the conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Jay, you found yourself laughing at his animated retelling of a recent mishap at work. His eyes sparkled with amusement, his infectious laughter filling the air and drawing a smile to your lips.

"You wouldn't believe it," Jay exclaimed, his hands gesturing wildly as he recounted the comical series of events. "I swear, if it weren't for my quick thinking, we would have been knee-deep in paperwork!"

You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Well, I'm glad you were able to save the day," you replied, unable to tear your gaze away from the twinkle in Jay's eyes. "Sounds like you're quite the hero."

Jay grinned, his dimples deepening as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, you have no idea," he teased, his voice laced with playful exaggeration. "I've got a cape and everything."

The two of you shared a laugh, the tension easing between you as you basked in the warmth of each other's company. With each passing moment, you felt yourself growing more comfortable and at ease with Jay, the initial nerves of the date fading into the background as you lost yourself in the easy banter and shared laughter.

And as you shared another round of laughter with Jay, the doubts and insecurities that had once clouded your mind seemed to melt away, replaced by a growing sense of hope and possibility that whispered of new beginnings and endless horizons. With a smile on your lips and a lightness in your heart, you leaned in closer to Jay, eager to savor every moment of this unexpected journey that had brought you together.

As the evening drew to a close and the coffee shop began to empty out, you and Jay found yourselves lingering at your table, reluctant to part ways just yet. The easy conversation and shared laughter had created a bond between you that felt both comforting and exhilarating, leaving you reluctant to let the night end.

As you gathered your belongings and prepared to leave, Jay rose from his seat and offered you a warm smile. "Well, yn, I had a really great time tonight," he said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle warmth that sent a flutter of excitement through your chest.

You returned his smile, feeling a sense of gratitude wash over you for the unexpected connection you had shared. "I did too, Jay," you replied, your voice soft with sincerity. "Thank you for such a wonderful evening."

As you made your way outside, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, Jay walked beside you in easy silence, his presence a reassuring presence at your side. The streets were quiet now, the bustling city fading into the background as you walked side by side, lost in your own thoughts.

When you finally reached your doorstep, you turned to face Jay, feeling a mixture of reluctance and anticipation swirling within you. "Well, this is me," you said with a hesitant smile, gesturing to the entrance of your building.

Jay nodded, his expression softening with a hint of regret. "Yeah, it is," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "I wish we could stay out here all night."

You chuckled softly, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of saying goodbye so soon. "Me too," you admitted, your heart heavy with the weight of impending separation.

For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the unspoken words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. And then, without warning, Jay reached out to gently grasp your hand in his, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your veins.

"I really want to kiss you right now, yn," Jay said softly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of longing and respect. "But I don't want to rush things. I want to take things slow, and I want to make sure you feel comfortable every step of the way."

His words were like a balm to your weary heart, a reminder that not all men were like the ones who had hurt you in the past. And as you looked into Jay's eyes, you saw nothing but sincerity and kindness reflected back at you, filling you with a sense of warmth and gratitude that you hadn't felt in a long time.

With a grateful smile, you squeezed Jay's hand gently, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding and compassion. "Thank you, Jay," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I really appreciate that."

And as you stood there in the soft glow of the streetlights, the night stretching out before you like a canvas waiting to be painted, you knew that this unexpected encounter with Jay was just the beginning of a journey filled with hope, healing, and the promise of a love that was worth waiting for.

A few weeks had passed since your coffee date with Jay, and life had quickly resumed its hectic pace. Between work commitments, family obligations, and the occasional outing with friends, you found yourself swept up in a whirlwind of activity, the days blurring together in a haze of busyness and distraction.

Despite the outward appearance of normalcy, however, there was a lingering sense of restlessness that gnawed at the edges of your mind, a quiet unease that whispered of unresolved worries and unspoken fears. You had thrown yourself into your daily routines with a sense of determination and purpose, but beneath the surface, a part of you still felt adrift, searching for something elusive and intangible.

Your friends had noticed the change in you, their concerned glances and probing questions a constant reminder of the facade you had erected to shield yourself from their scrutiny. Terry, Chaeryoung, and Jake had all voiced their concerns, offering words of support and encouragement in their own unique ways, but you had brushed off their worries with a casual wave of your hand, insisting that you were fine and that there was nothing to be concerned about.

But deep down, you knew that wasn't entirely true. The truth was, you were struggling to keep up appearances, to maintain the facade of strength and resilience that you had carefully crafted to hide the vulnerability and uncertainty that lurked within. You were tired of pretending, tired of wearing a mask that no longer fit, but you didn't know how to let it go, how to break free from the chains that bound you to a life that felt increasingly hollow and unfulfilling.

It was on one such day, as you sat alone in your apartment, lost in a sea of thoughts and doubts, that there came a knock at your door. Startled from your reverie, you rose from your seat and made your way to the entrance, your heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity.

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find Jay standing on the other side, his expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Hey, yn," he said softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of the turmoil that lay beneath the surface. "Can I come in?"

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or how to explain the maelstrom of emotions that churned within you. But as you looked into Jay's eyes, you saw nothing but warmth and understanding reflected back at you, and you felt a sudden surge of gratitude for his unwavering support and compassion.

With a nod, you stepped aside to let Jay into your apartment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air between you. As he took a seat beside you on the couch, you felt a sense of relief wash over you at the prospect of finally opening up to someone who truly cared.

For a long moment, the two of you sat in silence, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant rumble of traffic outside. And then, at last, Jay spoke, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"yn, I've noticed that you've been… distant lately," he began, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "And I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. Is everything okay?"

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke off your words. But before you could reply, Jay reached out to gently grasp your hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the storm of emotions that raged within you.

"You don't have to pretend with me, yn," Jay said softly, his voice filled with quiet understanding. "Whatever you're going through, whatever you're feeling… I'm here for you. You don't have to face it alone."

And in that moment, as you looked into Jay's eyes and saw the depth of his sincerity and compassion, you knew that you had found someone worth opening up to, someone who would stand by your side through thick and thin, no matter what challenges lay ahead.

With a grateful smile, you squeezed Jay's hand gently, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at the prospect of finally sharing your burdens with someone who truly cared. And as you began to open up to Jay, pouring out your fears and insecurities with a vulnerability you had never shown anyone before, you felt a weight lift from your shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of hope and optimism for the future.

In the days and weeks that followed, you found solace in the unwavering support and understanding of Jay, who stood by your side through every twist and turn of your journey. With his encouragement and guidance, you began to confront the demons of your past, slowly but surely breaking free from the chains that had bound you for so long.

Together, you navigated the highs and lows of life, sharing laughter and tears, triumphs and setbacks, as you embarked on a journey of self-discovery and healing. With Jay's love and support, you found the strength to confront your fears and insecurities head-on, embracing the challenges that lay before you with courage and resilience.

As your relationship with Jay blossomed and deepened, you found yourself constantly amazed by his thoughtfulness and consideration. Jay seemed to possess an innate understanding of your needs and boundaries, effortlessly navigating the intricacies of your heart with a sensitivity and empathy that left you feeling cherished and valued.

One evening, as you curled up on the couch together, lost in the pages of a book, Jay reached out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch light and tender against your skin. You looked up to find him gazing at you with an expression of quiet adoration, his eyes filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter with affection.

Without a word, Jay leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin in a silent promise of love and devotion. And in that moment, as you felt the weight of his affection wash over you like a soothing balm, you knew with a certainty that this was where you belonged, in the arms of a man who loved you unconditionally, flaws and all.

In the days and weeks that followed, Jay continued to show his affection in the small but meaningful ways that spoke volumes of his love for you. Whether it was leaving notes of encouragement tucked into your lunch bag, surprising you with your favorite meal after a long day, or simply wrapping you in a warm embrace when you needed it most, Jay's gestures never failed to brighten your day and fill your heart with joy.

But what touched you most deeply was the way Jay always respected your boundaries and comfort levels, never pushing you to do anything you weren't ready for or comfortable with. Instead, he met you where you were, showering you with love and affection in the ways that felt most natural and comfortable to you.

And as you snuggled close to Jay on the couch, his arms wrapped protectively around you, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the man who had come into your life and filled it with so much love and happiness. With Jay by your side, you knew that you were truly blessed, and you vowed to cherish every moment you shared together, knowing that the love you had found was a rare and precious gift that would last a lifetime.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, you found yourself growing stronger and more confident with each passing day, no longer defined by the scars of your past but by the boundless possibilities of your future.

In Jay, you found not only a lover but a confidant, a partner who shared your hopes and dreams, fears and insecurities, and who stood by your side through thick and thin. Together, you forged a bond that was stronger than any obstacle, a love that transcended the trials and tribulations of life.

One evening, as you sat together on the balcony, watching the sun dip below the horizon in a blaze of fiery colors, you found yourselves lost in conversation, sharing your deepest thoughts and feelings with a vulnerability and honesty that only strengthened the bond between you.

"I never thought I'd find someone like you, yn," Jay said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Someone who truly understands me, who accepts me for who I am, flaws and all."

You turned to look at Jay, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "I feel the same way, Jay," you replied, reaching out to take his hand in yours. "You've shown me a kind of love and acceptance that I never knew was possible, and for that, I'm eternally grateful."

As you sat together in companionable silence, the soft murmur of the city below providing a soothing backdrop to your conversation, you felt a sense of peace settle over you like a warm blanket. With Jay by your side, you knew that you could weather any storm that came your way, knowing that his love and support would always be there to guide you through.

And as the stars began to twinkle overhead, casting their gentle glow upon you both, you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Jay's lips, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had come into your life and filled it with so much joy and happiness. With Jay by your side, you knew that anything was possible, and you vowed to cherish every moment you shared together, knowing that your love was a bond that would last a lifetime.

And as you looked towards the horizon, your heart filled with gratitude for the unexpected twists and turns that had led you to this moment, you knew that with Jay by your side, the future held endless promise and possibility.

With a smile on your lips and a lightness in your heart, you stepped forward into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited you, knowing that as long as you had Jay by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way.

And so, as the sun set on one chapter of your life and rose on the next, you took Jay's hand in yours, ready to embark on a new journey filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

For in Jay, you had found not only a partner but a soulmate, a kindred spirit who had walked through fire and brimstone to stand by your side, and for that, you would be eternally grateful.

And as you walked hand in hand into the sunset, the echoes of your laughter mingling with the gentle rustle of the wind, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

And so, with hearts full of hope and love, you stepped forward into the unknown, ready to embrace whatever adventures awaited you, knowing that as long as you had each other, the future held endless promise and possibility.

[elliessmile]

Through The Haze

Pt. 1

TW: Marijuana, smoking, self doubt, body dysmorphia

TLDR: Ellie struggles with her appearance and self-doubt about her ability to be liked. She takes you to her place to have a smoke session with you, and finds herself relaxed.

2.6k words

Ellie had always been insecure. Whether it was how her freckles littered her face, how toothy she felt her grin was, or the way her hair fell, her appearance was never good enough for her. A canvas for endless internal criticism.

She really couldn't fathom why anyone found her attractive. It wasn't like she was a stranger to being flirted with, but the second she opened her mouth to reply, a suave remark would always inevitably turn into an awkward mumble. She couldn't see past the mental block of how much she hated her appearance, it was blinding and shook her confidence at every turn.

Every once in a while, someone would find her bumbling attempts at courtship endearing. This time, this summer Saturday night, someone just happened to be you.

.....

Ellie felt an elbow slide into hers across the smooth wood of the bartop. She glanced over, ready to apologize to whoever she thought she may have inconvienced by taking up space and her eyes settled on the glass in your hand. She let her eyes trail slowly up your arm and over your shoulder until they reached your face, your eyes relaxed with an amused grin.

"I'm sorry," Ellie looked away, worried about staring too long, instead pretending to take inventory of the numerous liquor bottles, "I didn't mean to bother you."

You laughed; it startled her. "I did it on purpose." You shook your head silently giggling.

Ellie's eyebrows furrowed. "Oh," she hesitated, "Really?" She cursed herself for sounding so timid when she had meant to be suave.

"Yeah," you looked down at your glass, taking a swig without making eye contact, "really."

Ellie tapped her foot anxiously against the barstool. What was she doing??

She had come to this bar to put herself out there for once and was fumbling it even though it was falling right into her lap! She mustered up as much faux confidence as she could.

Ellie pretended to look aloof, swirling her drink in her glass as she replied, "OK, why?".

She cringed a little bit internally. Not the most seductive retort.

You tapped your chin in thought. "Hmm..." you paused, "...'cause you're cute".

Ellie's eyes widened a little bit. Cute?

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow.

You nodded, looking into her eyes with a cheeky grin. "Yeah..." You chuckled warmly.

She set her glass down, listening to the sound it made as it made contact with the counter.

"You're...uh...pretty cute yourself," she smiled, making sure to keep her teeth tucked behind her lips.

You teased her right back, "Oh yeah?".

She looked away bashfully, nervously laughing before saying, "Yeah".

After a brief pause, Ellie watched you flag down the bartender for another drink, a vodka soda this time. She was more of a jack and coke girl herself.

"Do you want anything?" She glanced at your lips as you spoke, eyes darting away right before you could catch her.

"Ah," she rubbed her arm nervously, picking at the loose strands of her sleeve, " it felt dumb not getting at least one though."

Ellie watched you tilt your head in what looked like some mix between amusement and curiosity.

"OK, I respect it. What's your typical vice then?" You smirked, swirling your drink and looking at her from the corner of your eye.

She rubbed the back of her neck and looked at the corner of the room where the wall met the ceiling, slightly embarassed though unsure of the source.

"I'm more of a smoker. I don't like the hangover." She scanned your face, eyes searching yours, trying to predict what you were thinking.

"You know, honestly? Same," you smiled, sipping at the carbonation in your hand, "I just wanted an excuse to keep talking to you."

Ellie was stunned. Was this really happening?

Her eyebrows shot up, and she looked away, unsure of what to say. She chuckled nervously, still tapping her foot. She mustered all the fake confidence she could as she said, "I'm flattered," her voice cracking on the last syllable. She kicked herself for faltering again.

She watched you throw back the last of your drink, watching as a small drop trickled down your chin before you wiped it away with your the back of your hand.

Ellie was captivated by the way you moved, fluid and easygoing. She took a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye.

"So, do you wanna get out of here?"

....

That was how Ellie found herself sat across from you, completely zoning out while studying the color of your lips and how they move in a way she couldn't help but be charmed by, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

You laughed, a warm but sudden sound, shaking your head: "Are you even listening to me?"

Ellie blinked hard, seemingly snapping herself out of a trance. "Sorry," she feigned nonchalance, "got distracted".

You rolled your eyes, yet Ellie could tell you were still amused. She watched as you quickly raised your eyebrows, eyes wide.

"Oh my God. I don't think I even asked your name."

Ellie snorted. "It's Ellie."

Your cheeks flushed, she noted. She felt slightly smug in a way, knowing that you had come all the way back to her place without knowing the slightest detail about her. She asked your name, nodding when you replied.

Ellie relaxed into her couch, legs kicked up on her low-lying coffee table. It was so much easier for her to be comfortable at home.

"So, you said you smoke. Do you like pipes or..., ya know, what's the vibe?" She mussed with her hair absent-mindedly.

"Hmm," you paused, "I prefer bongs honestly. Doesn't burn your throat so bad."

Ellie nodded, smiling and meeting your eyes. "And what do you like to smoke?"

You squinted your eyes in thought. "Sativa. I like the way it makes my body feel. The kind where every motion makes your body tingle. Feels electric almost."

Ellie raised her eyebrows, smirking a bit. "I know what you mean." She paused, "I have some you might like if you're down."

You grinned widely. "I am so down."

Ellie propelled herself off the couch. "I gotchu," she said warmly, softly smiling, "I'll be right back". She could feel your eyes studying her figure as she retreated into another room.

...

A few minutes later she returned with a bong in the shape of a crystal ball and started packing a bowl, pulling from a small, unmarked jar.

You giggled, "Where the hell did you get that?"

She glanced up at you, a small smirk on her face, "I have my ways. You like it?"

"Of course I do," you laughed. "Whatcha got there?"

"Sour Diesel. I like it 'cause it makes my body all relaxed and buzzy and shit, but also like...makes my mind all calm and stuff. It's chill," she rambled, reaching away from the instrument and grabbing a lighter.

She watched as you took in her words, seeming to weigh each syllable.

"Do you want the first hit?" Ellie asked with genuine curiosity, making sure you were comfortable.

"Nah, it's your weed. You go first." You looked up at her across the coffee table.

"Ok," she shrugged smugly, "suit yourself."

Ellie lifted the bong to her lips, flicking the lighter with her slender fingers. The flame crackled to life in an instant. She felt your eyes on her as her face glowed from the ignition. She pulled in a deep breath as the water bubbled, pulling the plug out a few seconds later. The bowl smoldered,  glowing a vibrant orange.

The white smoke swirled around in the orb, looking like some kind of twisted magic. She felt quite satisfied with herself as she deeply inhaled the vapor, holding it in her lungs for a moment before slowly exhaling and sending smoke wafting through the room in your direction. She took two more hits in quick succession, filling the air with a slight haze.

"Wow," you sighed, lips slightly agape.

Ellie looked at you amusedly, "What?"

"You just look..." you trailed off, "really hot when you smoke."

Ellie paused before scrunching her face up and laughing. "Really? Uh...thanks."

"Yeah," you looked away, "really."

Ellie's eyes flickered up to yours as you turned your head back to look in her direction. "Here," she held out the crystal ball and the lighter to you, moving forward in one fluid motion, "your turn."

She watched as you wrapped your hands around the objects. "It's been a minute since I've done this," you expressed, "Could I get a light?"

Ellie smiled warmly, "Of course." She strolled over to where you were seated, crouching down so her face was level with your chest, balancing herself on the balls of her feet, the white toes of her Converse creasing.

She flipped the flame to life once again, reigniting the embers. You sucked in a deep breath as she pulled out the plug before it could scatter ash everywhere. You took a large inhale of the smoke.

Ellie laughed to herself a bit as you began coughing, a rookie move. You pulled another hit anyway as she started the lighter again when you nodded at her. It was kind of cute how new you seemed to this, despite your earlier remarks.

She carefully took the instrument out of your hands, setting it down on the table before leaning back on the couch again.  Her green eyes searched your face before she let out a genuinely girlish laugh.

"What?" You looked concerned, searching her eyes.

"Nothing," her face was painted with intrigue, "you're just cute."

Ellie saw your cheeks turn red again. "You think so?"

"Yeah," a beat passed, "I do."

She met your eyes, and noted that they were dilated, as she was sure hers were. Your eyelids looked relaxed, your face so pretty and rosy in the dim golden light of the room. The air felt charged.

She carded her fingers through her auburn hair, mustering up all the charisma she had: "What're you so far away for?" She asked, once again hiding her now waning anxiety.

She looked up from under her heavy eyelids and saw your inebriated mind process what she said. "I...don't know," you mumbled, a smile playing at your lips under your half-lidded eyes.

Ellie heard the couch springs creak as you nestled beside her, close enough to smell her woodsy cologne. Your warmth was so comforting, your scent intoxicating her and almost overwhelming her heightened senses.

She looked over her left shoulder at you, her eyes flickering from how your shirt fell over your chest, up to your slightly chapped lips, and finally up to your dilated pupils once again.

"You look..." her voice was low and slightly hoarse from the smoke, "really pretty." She saw your eyes watching her lips form the words.

Your shoulders lowered as you exhaled, eyes shut. "Thanks."

Ellie was puzzled by your response. She furrowed her brows, a crease forming between them, "What are you thinking?"

You paused, eyes opening and looking up at her intensely, "I'm thinking that I can't handle you looking at me like that."

Ellie's scold intensified in serious confusion. She never was great at taking a hint. "What do you mean?"

You looked away, fidgeting with your hands. "I mean if you keep looking at me like that, I'm not going to be able to control myself much longer."

Ellie's worried demeanor melted away, replaced by intrigue.  "And what's that supposed to mean?" She leaned a little closer, meeting your eyes as soon as you turned her way again.

You sighed, a short almost frustrated sound, "You know what I mean."

Ellie held her gaze, "Do I?"

You nibbled at your lip, "I hope so."

She laughed softly, a sound that indicated she was pleased with herself.

She reached for her stash box, pulling out a tobacco leaf wrap and a jar of freshly ground flower. Ellie felt your eyes track her every move as she tapped the flower into place and rolled the paper. She saw you bite your lip and tighten your grip on your pant leg as she ran her tongue along the wrap to seal it. She exhaled in amusement.

Your eyes were still following her as she lifted the blunt to her lips. The lighter flickered to life as she thumbed the igniter with her veiny, slender hands. Her face glowed for a brief moment once again, before the embers glittered bright orange as they did earlier. She held the smoke in her mouth for a short while before  opening her lips and letting the tendrils leave her, slowly floating up towards the ceiling. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see your mouth agape once again.

Ellie knew she was putting on quite a show, slowly feigning innocence and teasing you as she pulled you in. It felt so nice, not worrying about what she looked like when she got high. She didn't care about the way her hair never wanted to stay perfectly up, or how her freckles showed in the dim light, or how she felt like her chest was too small. She didn't care about how her teeth showed when she laughed, how her eyebrow scar cut up her face, about how pale she was, or how much she didn't like her hair color. It didn't matter that she felt like she had love handles or hip dips or slightly bony ribs or shoulders that were too broad. None of it mattered, there was no room to care.

You shook her from her haphazard thoughts when you said: "Are you gonna share or...?"

Ellie realized the glowing cherry was dimming a bit, and a few bits of stray ash peppered her black jeans. She hummed, "Mmm...yeah." She looked up at you again, a sly grin on her face. "Open your mouth."

You looked surprised, your eyes blinking at her, but you did as she said. You nodded slowly.

Ellie pulled a large inhale in, the cherry crackling vibrantly back to life. She never broke eye contact. She leaned in, looking at your slightly parted lips, and stopped a half inch from your face, exhaling the warm smoke into your mouth. Ellie watched you breath her in like your life depended on it.

She smiled at the way her music seemed to flex and flow to her inebriated mind, perfectly framing the moment, the Deftones wavering in the air itself. Your warmth was so close, the electric guitar filled every corner of the room, your eyes on her as she pulled away felt more intense than they had before. This moment felt like bliss.

Ellie heard you exhale the smoke and saw you blink up at her. The tension hanging in the air like the tendrils of smoke she had made.

Your giggle twinkled in her ears. "This weed tastes so dank," you smiled, looking away.

"It is supposed to have 'notes of gasoline'," Ellie mocked in a voice like a faux salesman, making air quotes with her fingers to exaggerate the statement.

Her heart swelled at the warm laugh from you she elicited.

"I wonder if it would make a person taste like that," you wondered aloud.

Ellie's eyes widened slightly. She knew what you were saying, the question floating in the air between you. All she had to do was pluck it from in front of her. She decided to humor you.

"Do you wanna find out?" Ellie looked at you from beneath her browbone, her lips quirking in self-satisfaction, an eyebrow raised.

"Fuck yeah I do," you said breathlessly.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

help i have a crush and no guts to tell them. If convenient… some bruce wayne? Bruce is hotter. I am safer dreaming about fictional men than real ones. My crush miiiight know(im 20. WHY the heckkkkk do i even HAVE a crush). I made eye contact and immediately looked away. I literally couldnt be more suspicious. Im begging you to distract me.

Important note: i love love love your writing especially the other half. Which i know is over so im not asking for a continuation of that. But your bruce is enthralling. Also no pressure if youre not in a bruce writing mood.

listen

i hate to tell you/warn you

having a crush at 29 is just as if not more embarrassing. i sadly speak from experience

also what do you call it when Batman skips church

christian bale

"He's going to catch you."

"Catch me what? I'm not doing anything."

"You're staring."

"I am not staring," You insist, "I am...Looking in the direction of his vicinity."

"Well that vicinity is pretty narrow. Completely narrow. You're just looking at him, actually."

You pass a sidelong glance toward your best friend, eyes narrowing as she smiles sweetly at you.

"I'm just sayin'," She shrugs, "The more you stare at him, the more likely it is that he'll catch you."

"No way for him to catch me if there's nothing to catch—Oh, shit," You hurriedly whirl around as you see him twist toward you.

"I told you."

"Shut up!" You hiss. "Is he still looking?"

"Yep."

You groan, raising your drink to your lips and draining it. "I'm gonna go get another one. You wanna come?"

"I'm alright."

It's for the best, you decide. She was right, you've been way too blatant. But how many times are you going to be in the room with the Prince of Gotham, with the Bruce Wayne?

"Prosecco, please," You request, setting your empty glass down.

"It'll be a moment," The bartender warned. "We're waiting for a few bottles."

"Okay! No worries."

You're certain this is the only time that you would be in the same room as Wayne, so you may as well take a look, get your fill. There were whispers of him coming alone, instead of trotting out one of the models that he usually brings to these events. Maybe it was a last-minute acceptance, or he couldn't find anyone to come...Then again, you were certain that that was impossible. Hell, you'd cut off your right arm to say yes—Not that Bruce Wayne would ever ask you.

"Prosecco."

His voice makes you freeze, your eyes widening slightly as his sleeve brushes your arm.

"It'll be a moment, Mr. Wayne," The bartender frowns.

"S'alright."

You glance hesitantly toward him, offering a tight, flighty smile when you find him looking at you.

"Hi," He greets.

"Hi."

Oh god, what the hell is he doing, talking to you?

"Come here often?"

"...To the Natural History museum?" You flounder.

"Not exactly," He chuckles. "I meant to events like these."

"Oh—No. My friend had a plus one, so."

"Mm."

You nod. You should ask if he comes to many of these, right? But you know that he does—every appearance is highly publicized in the Gotham Gazette, US magazine, across gossip blogs and social media. Hell, you'd have to have been living under a rock to not know who he was.

But how can you ask questions without seeming like an ignorant simpleton or a weirdo? Will he think it's odd that you know he goes to these events? Will he think you're lying if you pretend to not know that he does?

You don't even know this man, so why does he make you so nervous?

"Flying solo on this one?"

It's out of your mouth before you can stop it, and—shit. You take in the way Bruce blinks, his lips tipping up with a small smile.

"I am. I accepted last-minute."

"No other way to spend your Friday night?"

"No other good way. It is for charity, after all."

"That's true," You smile. Oh, god look away now. Stop looking into his warm, dark eyes—Damn, how does he get you so hot with just a smile?

"Two proseccos." The two of you turn as the bartender speaks up, setting your drinks on the bar.

"Thanks."

"Thank you."

You take yours, ready to step away and say goodbye. You don't want to linger—but—

"Is your friend going to be missing you?" Bruce asks.

"Um..." You look around, spotting her speaking with one of her colleagues—one that you know she has a crush on. You huff a soft laughing, shaking your head. "No, definitely not."

"So she won't mind if I hold you up for a bit?"

Your heart leaps into your throat, brows creeping high.

"Hold me up? For what?"

"To talk, if you're interested." He holds his hand out for a shake. "Bruce Wayne."

And you can't keep it in anymore. He's introducing himself? You chuckle softly, shaking his hand.

"Yeah. I know."

[flawdchaos]

Lips of an Angel

Lando Norris x Reader

based on lips of an angel by hinder (if you haven’t heard this song pls listen to it because it’s a banger and this is heavily based on it.)

tw: angst, kinda sorta cheating, reader and lando being dummies

a/n - hi friends, this is my first time writing for f1. i’ve written before on here and took a break to study on class work. i’ve fallen back into my f1 phase and dreamt this up on the way into work tonight. i hope you enjoy, feel free to give me feedback. thank you xx

word count - 1500 (ish)

Lando’s room illuminated from the soft glow of his phone on the bedside table, buzzing against the base of the lamp. He moved as delicately as he could, careful to not wake the girl sleeping on his chest, to see who could be calling so late. He rubbed his eyes and squinted reading the name across his screen, the name he chose to disguise Y/N’s contact.

JULIE - MARKETING.

He slid out from under the girl, tiptoeing to the hallway before whispering a hello through the phone.

“Lando?” the voice shook through the phone. “Lando, I’m sorry.” he could hear it now, the sniffles and uneven breaths - she was crying. He crept down the hallway a bit more in an attempt to gain distance from his bedroom and sleeping companion.

“Y/N, why are you crying? Is everything alright?” he whispered, being met with only sniffles. “I’m in the living room. I have to whisper. What’s wrong?” He was growing impatient in her silence, the worry growing each minute he was on the phone call.

“I don’t know if I can keep doing this - this pretending. I want you for myself. Call me selfish,” she took a deep breath in “, but I deserve you - not her.”

She had never been this brash before but he couldn’t blame her. After months of secret conversations, shared glances, and hugs that lingered just a little too long - he had to agree with her.

What they shared wasn’t meant to happen in the first place. Lando and Y/N had been in the same friend groups for years, only knowing each other mutually. It stayed that way until one night when they found themselves alone at the bar, friends having left long ago. One too many drinks and the heavy hand of the bartender led them back to Lando’s flat in London. They agreed the next morning, for the sanctity of their ‘friendship’ it would never happen again - but, they were both lying to themselves and they knew it. One night turned into two and before they realized it, the rest of Lando’s winter break was shared mostly in the sheets of his bed. It was only when he was leaving back to Monaco that things came to a halt abruptly. No conversation or discussion of what the hell had just happened over the past few months, just radio silence on both ends. It was an unspoken ending between the two.

That was until a couple months later and during Lando’s first podium of the season that he found himself wishing she were there to celebrate with him. Drunkenly, he debated his options and finally decided to send her a text telling her just how much he missed her and the things they would do. His text sat unattended in her messages for the rest of the night because while Lando was thinking of her, she was doing everything she could to forget about him - and this included making the same trek home from the bar with a stranger. Come morning the only thing the pair was left with was regret.

Y/N was the first to reach back out again after his crash in Las Vegas. She couldn’t admit to her friends just how shaken it had her but she tossed and turned in the bed for over an hour before picking up her phone.

Glad you’re okay. Try to stay out of the wall next time, yeah?

Her name lighting up his phone had his heart beating almost as fast as the adrenaline of crashing did. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as his mind raced on what to say. It was late in the UK so his response would probably go unnoticed until the morning. Or - had she stayed up that late to watch him race? Or should he say crash.

“What’s got you stumped, mate?” Max’s voice broke him from his daze as he glanced over his shoulder. “Y/N, aye? Just admit it.”

Lando’s head shot up to meet Max’s stare. “Admit what?”

“That you’re fucking whipped. I’ve seen you stalking her instagram.”

Something about Max’s words ignited a feeling within him. For the first time in his “playboy” career - Lando Norris was scared of his feelings.

—

It wasn’t long after the Las Vegas Grand Prix that Y/N had noticed a shift in Lando. He was almost nonexistent on her social media - no likes, hearts or story views. She chalked it up to the busy life he lived but when she clicked through his ‘close friends’ instagram story, her heart fell to her stomach. Lando had his arms wrapped around another girl, lips pressed against her cheek in front of a mirror. All of her questions and doubts were confirmed with a simple click and despite him owing her anything, she felt betrayed. Y/N couldn’t deny it anymore - the time she had spent with Lando was a whirlwind and no matter how many nights she spent curled up in bed, their bodies pressed together, she was always left wanting more.

On the mornings she woke before him, which had been every morning except two, she had found herself tangled in his arms feeling safe and secure. The true depth of her feelings came to be when she slowly awoke one morning to Lando running his arms down hers and placing a soft kiss on her forehead, vowing to return shortly. He stuck true to his promise when he crept back into the bedroom, two cups of tea tucked safely in his hands. She realized then that a small snippet of a domestic life with Lando was all she ever wanted but when he spoke again, the reality of their situation came back into play.

“Max is coming over in an hour to set up some stuff for the new Youtube video. I don’t mean to rush you but I figured our secret was still between us.” She nodded and hummed before taking another sip of her tea.

“Sure thing. I’ll be gone as soon as we finish our tea.”

-

Y/N finally realized, after viewing Lando’s story, that she had to move on. Find somebody to distract her from the replays of her intimate moments shared with Lando - and so she did. The pair both settled into mediocre “relationships” to distract themselves from the constant longing they had for each other. Subtle posts made to stories in hopes to cause jealousy in each other were made almost weekly. Lando had been seeing a girl one of his mates had set him up with, and Y/N had met a guy at a bar in London on a girls night out. Neither of them were unhappy, per se, but nothing matched the energy that the pair had shared before. On nights after rough races and a few drinks, Lando would have dreams that the girl in his arms wasn’t who had been currently seeing but Y/N instead. One dream had sent him over the edge and he had called her that night to hear her voice.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings. His longing was quickly turning into regret as he realized this was probably a mistake before her soft voice filled the phone, she was whispering.

“Lando?” his heart was racing at the mere sound of her voice.

“Y/N, I’m sorry to wake you.” he said, hand raising to his mouth as he started biting at his fingernails.

“It’s okay, are you alright?”. She was still whispering.

“Uhm,” he began, shuffling his feet against the rug below him. “Fuck. This is so stupid…but I had a dream about you. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“A dream? About me?” he could hear her shuffling around on the other end of the phone, probably trying to put distance between her and her partner just like he had done.

“Yeah. A dream. It isn’t the first one I’ve had either.” They were both silent for a moment before he continued. God, why was he admitting this. “And I guess they’ve just helped me realize some things.” His heart was beating so hard that he figured she could hear it through the phone. A sharp intake of breath from her end of the phone had him biting at his nails again.

“What things, Lan?” Lan. He hadn’t heard her say that in months.

“My girl’s asleep in the next room. John is probably in the room next to you asleep. We’re kilometers and kilometers apart but yet, despite all of that, every time I close my fucking eyes all I see is you. All I hear is you laughing. I dream of you.” He sat down, head in his hands. “I guess I never really moved on, Angel.” The nickname had given her long ago falling effortlessly from his lips.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if she hung up the phone, called him a dickhead, and never spoke to him again. All of the worst options lived in his head. The last thing he expected her to say was,

“Lan, I dream of you too.”

[theroundbartable]

Arthur is out with a couple coworkers whom he isn't out to. They keep encouraging him to flirt with random girls, so eventually he does due to peer pressure.

The moment he does, Merlin steps in and rants him into a pulp for harrassing those girls (who happens to be one of Merlin's friends.)

(It's the hackling from the background that ticked Merlin off, Arthur barely said anything.) Arthur's coworkers fight the fight for him but Arthur himself is more than intrigued by Merlin's courage.

After that, Arthur visits the bar more often. But he doesn't get to talk to him because Merlin doesn't like him and ignores him. At some point, Arthur becomes desperate and asks one of his girl friends to assist him to get Merlin to talk to him... By staging that he's harrassing them (they are in on it) and Merlin feels the need to step in... Time and time again until Arthur is kicked out from the bar for life.

When the bartender tells Arthur that he has to leave, Arthur's desperation grows even worse and he begs to be allowed to leave one last message. He writes it on a napkin and tells him to give it to Merlin.

"sorry for being a pratt. You're cute and I didn't know how else to talk to you!

Here is my number: xxxx-xxxx"

Naturally, Merlin thinks it's either a prank or that Arthur handed it to the wrong person, so he texts Arthur pretending to be Elena, the last girl arthur "harrassed". Btw, all Arthur's "victims" somehow ended up befriending Merlin and encouraging Arthur to keep trying because Merlin is single and his only flaw is that he doesn't listen when someone tries to explain to him that it was all a scheme.

Elena (Merlin): you gave me your number, are you serious?! You got kicked out for harrassing me!

Arthur: sorry, Who is this?

Elena (Merlin): this is Elena, the blond girl you attacked?!?! You do that often?!

Arthur: you have a new number? Jesus, Elena, I almost had a heart attack. Do you know if Merlin got my number yet?

Elena (Merlin): ???

Arthur: and why are you texting me like that?! Is he watching? Am I supposed to write something?

Elena (Merlin): I have this number from the napkin the barkeeper gave me

Arthur: That doesn't make sense, Elena. I have your number saved! I've known you since kindergarten! Why would you say that?!

Merlin: So... You MEANT to send it to me? This isn't Elena, btw, this is Merlin. What do you mean, you've known her since Kindergarten?!

Merlin: ...

Merlin: hey, why aren't you answering?!

Arthur: hey

Merlin: what?! The hell?! Why would you give the barkeeper your number to give to me? And why do you know Elena?!

Arthur (Morgana): Hello, this is Arthur's sister, my name is Morgana. My dear brother is currently panicking because he thinks you're cute and he would like to date you. But he chickened out because you actually texted him and that's why I had to take over.

Merlin: yeah... Right

Arthur (Morgana) it's true though. He asked some of his friends to help him get a rise out of you. He's truly pathetic, but he showed me a picture, so I get it. Elena and Mithian are just some of them. You can ask them, too.

Merlin: wait... What?!

Arthur (Arthur): I can't believe she told you that

Merlin: you

Merlin: what

Merlin: is this a prank

Arthur: can't you just reject me already, I'm dying over here.

Merlin: no fucking way.

Merlin: If you're actually some sort of decent person, no way I'm missing out. You're hot

Arthur (Morgana): this is Morgana again. Arthur is panicking again. Saturday 2pm?

Merlin: sounds good to me.

Merlin: I'm flattered... Haha

Arthur (Morgana): you should be. I've never seen him so excited. You're gonna have an easy game.

Arthur (Morgana): okay, I gotta go, he just passed out.

Merlin: oh... Okay. Thank you?!

[penkura]

👉👈 if you write for them,,, could you do the “person hitting on them in a bad” scenario but with Usopp and Sabo? If you wanna do anyone else that’s cool too, but I’m just curious how they’d be 👀👀

would usopp be especially ballsy and confident to protect his sweetheart??? how would sabo intervene?

thank you, and I hope you’re having a super super great day :))

Ahh I know this is SUPER later but!! I've never written for Usopp or Sabo!! I hope you enjoy this and that you enjoy it!! :)

Usopp

You’ve known Usopp to be protective of you ever since you met when he joined the Straw Hats. You don’t know why, it’s been like that for so long that it’s just normal to you. Even in battle if you look like you’re being backed I to a wall, it’s like something takes over him and he’s more willing to fight to keep you safe. Nami has sworn its because he likes you but you don’t think so, he’s just being a good crewmate in your mind.

It's kind of painful to Nami and Sanji who can tell Usopp definitely has a crush on you even as you constantly deny it. Zoro has even seen it, you’re either blind or feigning ignorance to them as they all watch you at a bar, chatting with Usopp with a grin on your face while he does the same, but Nami notices a flush to his cheeks that you don’t seem to see, or you think it’s due to the alcohol you’ve all been sharing.

You eventually get up to get drink refills for everyone and when you do, Nami kicks Usopp hard enough under the table that he yelps a little.

“What was that for?!”

“Just tell her already! We can all see you like [Y/N]!”

Usopp tries to stutter out a response while Sanji sighs and shakes his head.

“It’s painful to watch.”

Before Usopp can tell them off, Zoro nudges his shoulder and nods towards the bar.

“Better do it fast before someone else gets her.”

Turning that way himself, Usopp sees exactly what Zoro is talking about, though to him the situation looks different. You’re waiting for drinks, facing the bartender, with a man about your age it seems trying to get your attention. You don’t listen to the stranger, when he moves closer you step away to keep distance, telling him you aren’t interested in whatever he wants from you.

“Come ooooon, I can show you a real great time while you’re in town~”

“Mm, nah, we’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Perfect then,” the guy puts his hand on your shoulder, holding tightly for a second, “We have tonight and—”

You shoved his hand off in time to see something hit the guy’s face and cover him in ketchup it looks like, before a smoke bomb hits him and makes it hard to see. You’re not entirely sure what’s happened until you see Usopp run over and grab your wrist, telling you it’s time to go as he runs out of the bar with you in tow. It makes you laugh while you run to keep up, thinking that maybe Nami was on to something about Usopp liking you as more than a crewmate.

You’ll have to talk about that later.

Sabo

As a member of the Revolutionary Army, you’re used to going undercover for any mission that you’re sent on. You’ve gone on several with various colleagues and worked to get all the information you can to help dismantle the World Government and the systems in place. Its an easy job for you, you’re good at pretending to be interested in people who tell you boring things, though you do listen for anything that might be important. Dragon trusts you to get the information you need and bring it back, you’ve always got someone with you in case things go sideways and you need help.

Though if Sabo is sent with you, things can still go awry simply because of him.

Sabo has been your closest friend ever since you joined, more recently telling you his feelings for you and becoming your boyfriend, he doesn’t like how often you go undercover in bars. He only wants you to be safe, but watching you flirt and joke with men at the bar makes him almost drop the drink he’s holding as he sits in a booth with Koala, both in cloaks and hiding the best they can but watching you closely. Both ready to jump into action if needed, but Koala laughs at Sabo while he shoots daggers into the back of the man making you (fake) laugh at the bar.

“I don’t get why Dragon puts her on these missions…”

“Cause she’s good at getting information out of people?”

Grumbling, Sabo sets his glass down before he breaks it in his grip, still watching as you look the slightest bit uncomfortable when the guy you’re talking to sets his hand on your knee.

“Plus,” Koala whispers, also watching but looking to Sabo briefly, “He knows you’ll jump into action if she needs help.”

Not even a moment later, when he noticed the guy move his hand further up your thigh, Sabo throes a Fire Fist his way, letting you get up and run back towards Koala as the other man tries to fight your boyfriend. It doesn’t last long before he’s on the ground begging for mercy and the barkeep is moving to throw both of them out, you just sigh as Koala pats your back.

“He was just about to tell me what time that Celestial Dragon would be arriving tomorrow.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t bring Sabo next time.”

You’re definitely going to be asking Dragon to leave Sabo out of the next recon mission, maybe just not tell him about it at all.

[seijorhi]

Wither and Bleed

sorry for the wait y'all <33 Daishou Suguru x female reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x female reader w.c 4.6k tw: dubcon, yandere themes, kidnapping, nsfw, stockholm syndrome, mentions of blood, alcoholism, mild smut

Daishou eyes the bottom of his glass dispassionately, watching the amber dregs of whiskey roll as he slowly tilts it – pointedly ignoring the sound of footsteps approaching, the low, mocking whistle that follows.

“I’d say it’s good to see you, Daishou, but I gotta be honest, this place is a dump and you look like shit.”

There’s a flush high on his cheekbones, his eyes are glazed, bloodshot. Despite the heaviness in his head, the liquor fuelled haze and exhaustion that makes pulling a coherent train of thought… somewhat difficult, he’s not so far gone that he can’t recognise the grating voice and accompanying laugh. 

One more. One more, and maybe then he’ll stumble off home to continue drinking in peace. That, or he’ll pass out the second he hits the couch. At this point, he’s not picky. 

“Another,” he rasps at the bartender, whose only response, aside from the surly look he sends Daishou’s way, is to unscrew the cap of the bottle of cheap whiskey and tilt it back over his glass. Glaring, all the while. 

Once upon a time, Daishou might’ve said something to that. Made some snarky remark, goaded him ‘til he got a rise – or got his ass thrown out.

(You’d chide him for it, too, in that exasperated tone of yours. He’d be tempted to think you were serious, but you’d sigh, call him hopeless and your hand would snake in his on the walk home anyway.)

Disdainful sneers, the staring, the whispers and pointing, baldie behind the bar wouldn’t be the first stranger to recognise him. Daishou can’t even blame the guy, really. A woman goes missing, all eyes turn to the husband. The boyfriend. The ex. He might be a piece of work, depending on who you asked –an asshole, arrogant, a conniving son of a bitch – but hell would freeze over before he’d ever lay a hand on his girl. On any girl. 

So, yeah, he gets why the guy’s staring at him like he’s the scum of the earth. Doesn’t make it any less of a bitter pill to swallow. 

“You planning on ignoring me, then?” 

“Trying to,” he mutters, accepting the drink with a short dip of his chin. The whiskey burns on the way down, warming his chest through. Bottom shelf liquor’s too cheap to enjoy for much else. Daishou closes his eyes, “Leave me alone.”

And that stupid, suit-wearing, smug asshole laughs, and pulls out the seat next to him. 

Fucking terrific.

Kuroo tuts, motioning at the bartender for a drink of his own, “Aw, c’mon. That’s no way to greet an old friend, is it?” He waits a beat for the reaction that doesn’t come, the mirth in his eyes fading somewhat, then sighs. In a more sober voice, he says, “I heard Yotsuya Motors dropped you. I’m sorry, man.”

The muscle in his jaw tightens, his knuckles turning white. Dropped was a good way of putting it. Closer to the truth than the bullshit story they’d peddled online and to the fans, the one wherein Daishou and the Yotsuya Motor Spirits had amicably reached the decision to part ways before the beginning of the new season. 

‘This isn’t a position any of us want to be in, Suguru. You’re a good player, you’ve done well this past season, but you have to consider how this looks for both the team and the V League as a whole. We’re not saying you’ve done anything wrong – of course not – only that the public perception holds weight these days.’

And so it went. He’d sat there, numb, and listened for fifteen minutes while the head coach and upper management explained that him ‘voluntarily’ stepping down was in his best interest. Pretending, all the while, that they were on his side. That they for one second actually believed in his innocence. 

The cowards couldn’t even look him in the eye. 

None of which makes enduring his old rival’s fake fucking sympathy any easier. 

“For what it’s worth,” Kuroo continues, “while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind–”

One minute, his drink is in his hand, the next, he’s hurled it against the wall behind Kuroo’s head, the glass shattering on impact, cheap whiskey sliding down the paint, and Daishou’s on his feet, chest heaving, muscles taut. Hands shaking as they flex and curl around nothing. 

For once, Kuroo’s stunned into absolute silence. 

The whole bar stills, a deathly quiet falling over the room. The other patrons gawk at him, wide eyed and horrified – a violent unravelling they’re eager to glut themselves on – no noise but the forgotten hum of 80’s rock drifting through the speakers. 

No one breathes.

No one moves.

Daishou, shaking, trembling in the cold wake of his own dissipating rage, shudders out a strangled breath. “She’s not–” the words stick in his throat; tight, painful. He forces them out through gritted teeth, “She’s not dead.”

Kuroo, staring back at him with some inscrutable expression, says nothing. Does nothing, aside from slowly lowering his drink – still untouched – down to the bar, as though Daishou hadn’t just pitched a glass tumbler right past his head. At his head, technically. 

“Out,” the bartender snaps after a tense beat, jabbing one thick finger towards the door. “Get the fuck out!”

Daishou can barely hear him over the ringing in his ears. 

“She’s not dead,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

Through all of this, it’s the one thought he won’t entertain. No matter how many times he’s hauled back into the police station, or someone recognises him from the news and the dirty looks and whispers start. No matter how much hatred and vitriol and accusations are thrown his way, that thought alone is constant. 

You can’t be dead.

“Out!” 

Daishou doesn’t need to be told a third time. He spares the raven haired bastard one last look on his way out, sneering, and lets the door sweep shut behind him. 

The place was a shithole anyway.

And he can pretend, for a minute or two, that the churning, sick feeling eating away at his insides is the liquor, that the sheen in his eyes is purely due to the icy bite of the wind as he stumbles off in the direction of home.

Too much alcohol flooding his veins, too screwed up to register the prickling on the nape of his neck, or the footsteps that follow after him, down the narrow laneway – a shortcut he’s taken a thousand times.

When the blow comes, striking hard and fast at the back of his head, Daishou drops like a stone.

—

When Daishou was seven years old, he fell out of the tree in his backyard and broke his arm. He also managed to knock himself out – for all of about five seconds.

Long enough to scare the hell out of his parents, anyway. When he woke up, bleary and dazed, his parents hovering over him, Daishou didn’t feel any pain, not immediately. That’d come later, trying not to blubber and wail in the back seat of his dad’s car on the way to the E.R. At first, though, it was just… sort of like being shaken from a deep, deep sleep. Disorientating, more than anything else. 

This isn’t like that at all.

Coming to, all Daishou can focus on is the pain in the back of his skull. His eyes are too heavy to lift, his limbs sluggish and sore. From a dry, cotton mouth, a low groan escapes him.  

At first, he assumes he’s at home – lying sprawled on the bathroom floor, having hurled up his guts through the night. Wouldn’t be the first time, and considering his sorry state, he’d hazard a guess that it wouldn’t be the last, either. 

“Suguru.”

Warmth. A loosening in his chest. Despite the discomfort, the sound of your voice never fails to soothe. In the weeks that you’ve been missing, Daishou’s dreamed of waking up beside you. Of rolling over and cracking an eye open to find you right there, fast asleep and curled up beside him, where you’ve always been. 

Where you’ve always belonged. 

You stir when his fingertips trace along your jaw, smile in that sleepy way of yours, catching his hand, keeping him there. And even in his dream, when there’s no reason for his chest to tighten, a lump to settle in his throat at the sight of you, it does. 

“Suguru, listen to me!” your voice pleads.

There are other dreams, ones where you’re lying on the living room floor surrounded by a pool of blood. There’s a kitchen knife sticking out of your chest, and he’s the one holding it. 

Daishou prefers the ones where you’re alive. Safe. Home with him. 

“You have to wake up.”

Why? He wakes up and you disappear again. Cheek pressed to the cold bathroom tiles, sick to his stomach and head throbbing.

And you still won’t be there.

“Please.” Your voice sounds… different. Not soft and loving, not the sleep tinged murmur he usually hears. “Please, Suguru, you’ve gotta wake up! Open your eyes for me.”

Daishou doesn’t want to. Pounding head or not, he’d stay in the dark with you – your voice, strained as it is – as long as his subconscious would allow. But that’s not a choice he gets to make, leaden lids slowly prying open, squinting under the influx of light.

The first day or two after you disappeared, Daishou convinced himself that despite all the evidence to the contrary, you weren’t gone gone. An accident, a miscommunication, dead phone, fuck, a fight he didn’t remember picking; he clung to any excuse, any explanation that left room for you walking through the door, sheepishly abashed over all the fuss caused. 

He would’ve forgiven you – for anything. 

The days passed, the cops came by, dragged him in for questioning, and Daishou started to realise that you weren’t staying with your parents, or a friend. You weren’t pissed at him for something stupid he did or said. You weren’t coming home on your own. 

Which left the alternative. 

People who disappear like you did; out of the blue, no warning, no trace – they don’t come back unscathed. 

If they come back. 

Daishou’s had weeks now to sit with that – while he drowns himself in bottom shelf whiskey and cheap beer, wallowing in his own fucking misery, you’re going through an unimaginable hell. 

Blinking against the brightness, the room slowly comes into focus, his eyes adjusting, and Daishou’s heart leaps into his throat. He forgets the pain. Forgets that he’s spent weeks – months, now – thinking over every awful eventuality and drinking himself stupid in the process. All he sees is you; sitting up in bed, hair tousled, wearing an old, faded tee two sizes too big, looking the way you do in the dreams he has where you never disappeared. 

“Suguru,” you gasp, the noise choked, halfway to a sob, your wobbling smile mired by the sheen of tears brimming behind your lashes. 

But Daishou doesn’t see that. Doesn’t register it, not as he scrambles forward, his desperation to touch you, feel you, make sure you’re here and you’re real overriding every other sense–

Only for the cold, metal handcuffs hooked from his wrist to the broken radiator to pull taut, jerking him to a stop. 

“… The fuck?” he mutters, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. Experimentally, he tugs on it again. 

It doesn’t budge. 

Daishou swallows, mouth dry, blood running cold, and as this new, unsettling reality takes root, slowly drags his gaze from his cuffed hand back to the bed. To you, watching him with a devastation that has his heart clenching. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, his subconscious sings, the warning bells tolling, and for the first time since he opened his eyes in this unfamiliar room, Daishou sees you.

The mottled marks of red and purple, fading yellow littered across your exposed collarbone, trailing along your neck. The shadows under bloodshot eyes, the pallor of your skin. 

And Daishou remembers.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him through tears, the words spilling out as though you’re confessing some great, unforgivable sin. “It’s my fault, Suguru. It’s all my fault.”

His mouth opens – all that comes out is a strangled rasp of your name, which only serves to make you cry harder, shoulders shaking and a hand clamped over your lips to stifle them. 

Daishou’s never wanted to wake up from a nightmare so badly. He’s never wanted so desperately to pinch himself and prove he’s not dreaming.

But at the sound of footsteps approaching, a change sweeps over you. You stiffen, freezing for the briefest of moments before you hastily set about wiping away the evidence of tears, shooting him a pleading, desperate look he doesn’t really understand.

Not until the deadbolt clicks and the door swings open, and Daishou’s confronted with the man who took everything from him.

One by one, the pieces fall into place with horrifying clarity. 

The bar, their ‘chance’ meeting, all that goading– ‘For what it’s worth, while you’ve always been a cheating rat bastard, you don’t strike me as the girlfriend murdering kind.’ 

A small, insane part of him wants to laugh hysterically.

He settles for a baser instinct. Strains against the chain at his wrist, face twisted into a feral snarl, and hisses, “You fucking asshole.”

Kuroo’s eyes crinkle with a grin, but his attention doesn’t remain on Daishou for long. On cue, you shuffle to the edge of the bed, shoulders low and eyes glistening. “I-I’m sorry, Tetsurou,” you murmur, meek and demure.  

The fucker laps it right up. Coos as he makes his way over, disregarding his other captive entirely. Two long fingers curl beneath your chin, tilting it upwards. He holds you there, lets his thumb brush along your lower lip. You shiver, and that too he greedily drinks in. 

He doubts very much that Kuroo’s forgotten about him, yet the way he stares at you – insatiable, a craving that goes too deep, a yearning too consuming – and you back at him, Daishou may as well have been invisible 

A wave of disgust seeps through his bones, tainting his blood, curdling in his stomach – but he doesn’t look away. He can’t bear that, either. 

When Kuroo finally decides to close that gap and kiss you, you don’t offer a shred of hesitation. You surrender to it, breath hitching when he catches your lip between his teeth and nips at it– 

(The way you used to when he’d do the same.)

–and when he breaks away, a strand of his spit still connecting you, and moves to cup your tear stained cheek, you nuzzle into him, peppering soft little kisses to his palm.

“I know, sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice a touch deeper, clearly affected by how sweetly you’re trying to pacify him. “But actions gotta have consequences. I warned you what’d happen if you brought him up again,” he pauses, and chuckles a little, “and you know I’m too much of a jealous bastard to let that kinda stuff slide.”

Hooded, hazel eyes flicker back to him, pinning him in place. The amusement in Kuroo’s face fades, leaving behind a blistering cold contempt as he regards his old high school rival. 

Daishou sneers back. 

“You said you loved him.”

“I don’t,” comes the immediate response. Too quick. 

Kuroo scoffs. “You still mumble his damn name in your sleep. He the one you’re imagining when I’m buried inside of you, making you cum, sweetheart?”

You’re fucking right it is, you piece of shit, Daishou thinks viciously. The words themselves sit on the tip of his tongue, prideful and sharp, itching to be inflicted. Damn the consequences, he might’ve said it just to see the look on that bastard’s face – except Kuroo isn’t even looking his way. Isn’t paying him the slightest bit of attention, idly toying with a lock of your hair as if you aren’t clutching at him, eyes betraying your panic like a deer in headlights, and Daishou feels sick all over again. 

What the fuck is wrong with him?

“N-no, of course not!”

“No?” Kuroo’s brow arches upwards. “You sure ‘bout that?”

There’s no answer you can give that’ll convince him, yet silence proves equally damning. You seem to realise as much, mouth opening and closing as you try and fail to conjure up the right words to diffuse the situation. Kuroo offers you no out, letting you dig your own grave with the shovel he’s given you, taking some kind of sick satisfaction in your distress. 

Unable to summon anything more than a choked squeak, you stretch upwards again, a delicate hand on his jaw, and kiss him. The action is desperate and clumsy, borne from panic over passion or affection. Kuroo accepts it eagerly all the same, one arm snaking around your waist to draw you closer – or rather, to keep you from slipping away ‘til he’s had his fill of your lips. “I love you,” you murmur against him. “Only you.”

Though they’re shaky, the words stand stronger than those that came before. 

His nose nudges against your own, a look of contentment gracing his features. “Not yet, but we’ll get you there. On your knees, pretty girl.”

Your face crumples in dismay, lips parting only to fall shut with an audible click. As Kuroo’s grip on you loosens, you obediently slide off the bed and onto your knees.

“Arms up.”

Trembling like a leaf and looking faintly ill, you obey, letting him tug your shirt – his shirt, from the looks of it – up and over your head, carelessly tossing it aside. And though you flinch, biting down on your bottom lip, eyes glossy, burning with shame and humiliation, you don’t make a move to cover yourself.

You must know better.

His blood roars, heart thundering violently against his ribs. There’s no pretending he doesn’t see the love bites and bruises spanning your chest, nor the smug, triumphant look in that fucker’s eyes when he notices Daishou looking, his body tensed, shaking with barely contained fury. 

Kuroo strokes your cheek, “Keep your eyes on me. Just you ‘n me, yeah?”

You nod. Without prompting you reach for his belt, the clinking of metal and the hiss of Kuroo’s zipper rattling in his skull, the deep, husky groan that slips from his lips when your fingers slide into his pants and curl around his cock, pulling it out.

“Good girl,” he purrs.

Daishou doesn’t want to watch you kiss a trail from Kuroo’s navel down to his cock. He doesn’t want to see the way your thumb swirls along the head of his dick, smearing his pre only for your tongue to follow its path, lapping it right up.

He doesn’t wanna watch you lick your lips, lean in and suck Kuroo’s cock like a well trained slut while he palms at your tits, but between the rage and disgust and the nausea crawling up the back of his throat, Daishou’s frozen in place.

Guided by the not-so-gentle grip he has on the back of your hair, you take more of him into your mouth with every bob of your head, your other hand diligently working away at what doesn’t fit. He allows it for a minute or two, watching you try your best to take all of him with a hiss of pleasure.

Eventually, though, greed wins out. Kuroo’s hips cant forward, bucking past your lips to force his cock deeper, grazing the back of your throat. Eyes widening, you make a surprised noise and try to pull back, allow yourself a little breathing room to set a pace you're comfortable with, but Kuroo’s having none of it. He growls once in warning, grip tightening around your hair, holding you in place, and begins to fuck your face in earnest.

“That’s my good – little – whore,” he grunts, each word punched out with another cruel thrust of his hips. 

The sounds of you gagging on the dick in your mouth, your choked little whines and whimpers burn through Daishou like wildfire, igniting something deep. A faint stirring in his gut he wishes, more than anything, he could smother entirely. 

He doesn’t look away. 

It’s only when the lack of oxygen becomes too much and you claw at Kuroo’s thighs, tears streaming down your face that he finally relents, letting you pop off his dick with a heaving gasp. With nothing else to tether you, you collapse against his legs, boneless and panting, your eyes fluttering shut. 

They crack open, however, looking up when his hand comes to a rest on the crown of your head, “Say it again. I want to hear it.” 

The demand takes a moment to process, but you swallow and tell him what he wants to hear. “I love you, Tetsu. More than anyone.”

He grins, lazily stroking your hair, “I know, sweetheart. Now c’mon, up on the bed. I’ve been been dreaming of your perfect little pussy all day, wanna fuck you properly.”

—

Hours pass. Half a day, a day. Maybe longer. There’s no light down here, no windows to track the path of the sun, the shadows creeping across the floor, but he can feel the endless drag of seconds and minutes ticking like a slow suffocation. 

After fucking you to the edge of exhaustion, Kuroo had carried you out, cradled to his chest like something precious, and left him alone in the dark. 

Left Daishou to scream and rage and cry like a fucking baby. It doesn’t help any. His bones and muscles ache, the skin of his wrist rubbed raw trying to move to a position that doesn’t scream with discomfort, the cold, unforgiving floor beneath him offering no relief. Mere feet away lies the bed Kuroo fucked you on, with its pillows and blankets, soft, plush mattress.

With his eyes adjusting to the complete lack of light, Daishou can only make out a vague shape in the darkness. In some kind of fucked up way, he decides it’s a blessing in disguise.

Being able to see the bed’s another cruelty, the promise of comfort and warmth when he’s shivering and cold and lying in his own filth, placed just out of reach. And while the thought of lying in the sheets he’d fucked you in (raped you in, a voice reminds him) makes his stomach turn, he’s not so sure that given the chance, he wouldn’t shove those thoughts aside for a soft reprieve and a few hours of rest.

Some messed up part of him wonders if the pillows and sheets still smell like you.

So no, it’s a good thing he can’t really see the bed, or the door, or much of anything, really.

Besides, it isn’t the hunger pangs or the lack of sleep or the dull, throbbing pain from his joints that bother him the most, it’s the feeling of inhaling razor blades doused in fire he’s subjected to with every shallow, rattling breath. The last taste of water he’d had… would’ve been before the bar, however long ago that was. Too long. More than a warm bed, more than food or freedom from the cuff around his wrist, Daishou thinks he’d just about kill for a single sip of water to wet his throat. 

More than likely, that’s the whole fucking point. 

Left to rot in the darkness, Daishou has plenty of time on his hands to think, musing over the bed in this little windowless room, and the other door he suspects must lead to a bathroom. That asshole went to some effort in getting him here, he’ll admit, but he doubts all this was solely for his benefit.

You were here when he came to; obviously he’d kept you down here, the question was for how long? Did he keep you chained up and hungry in the dark when you wouldn’t play nice? The way you’d melted for him, the affection, the goddamn look in your eyes when you’d said that bastard’s fucking name–

The fear that’d shone there when you’d said his. 

Daishou knows from the depths of whatever’s left of him, that he could never, ever hate you. If he starves to death alone down here, if you’re the one to plunge a dagger into his heart yourself, if you forget all about him and buy into the delusional fucking nightmare that psychotic prick keeps peddling, he’d love you. That much is immutable.

But hatred’s too soft a word for the thorn riddled vines that sprout and twist inside of him, ripping away at muscle and flesh, choking his organs, his veins, everything that he is – because of Kuroo. 

When he hears those footsteps again, the clicking of the altogether unnecessary locks, Daishou can’t help the wide grin that cracks at his face. “Was wonderin’ when you’d come back down to gloat,” he croaks, manages a laugh too, though it feels like dragging his vocal cords over sandpaper.

Having flicked the light switch on (half blinding Daishou in the process) Kuroo fixes him with a sardonic smirk. “Missing me already?”

“Hate waiting around.”

“Ah well, what can I say? I had better things to do.” His smirk broadens, a cruel glint under too bright fluorescent light as he plops himself down on the bed Daishou’s been doing his utmost to ignore and stretches out, rolling his shoulder and neck. “Prettier things.”

A stab of something dark and ugly wrenches between his ribs. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he spits through cracked, dry lips, and before he can think better of it, adds, “Mommy didn’t love you enough, Kuroo? That what this is?”

Kuroo doesn’t snap the way he expects him to. He doesn’t lash out like he would’ve when they were hot headed teenagers desperate to grind the other into the dirt and lord it over them. The muscle in his jaw jumps and his eyes narrow, sharpen – but his expression is quick to smooth over. Water off a duck’s back. He lets out an amused snort, rising from the bed. 

“Y’know, as entertaining as it was watching you self-destruct, losing your volleyball career, your fans, friends, all those nights you spent searching for her at the bottom of a bottle – and it was entertaining, believe me – I think I like this better.” 

A short, sharp burst of pain. Warm copper spills over his tongue. 

“You’re not gonna survive this. Even you’re smart enough to have realised that much.” He crouches down low, at eye-level, just out of reach, appraising him with a tilted head – as though Daishou’s some whimpering puppy at the pound. 

Daishou’s not a fucking puppy. 

“Most likely it’ll be the dehydration that kills you first,” Kuroo continues. “That only takes a few days, but with water, you could probably make it two, three weeks before your body starves itself to death – plenty of time for your muscles to begin to atrophy, which’ll be painful as hell, not to mention how bad the isolation’s gonna fuck you up. And who knows, maybe I’ll be nice and bring you something to drink every now and then, throw you some scraps from dinner. I might even let you out of those cuffs for an hour or two, so you can walk around down here, stretch those legs of yours before they completely shrivel up… But you won’t see her again, ever.”

Scowling and hateful, Daishou spits at Kuroo and bares bloody teeth. 

Kuroo wants to treat him like a dog, fine – but wolves gnaw through flesh and bone to free themselves from hunting traps, and he ain’t about to just keel over with a whimper and make this easy for him.

“Go fuck yourself.”

Tension crackles through the air like an oncoming storm. 

Daishou falls back against the radiator, breathing heavy and Kuroo wipes at his cheek with the pad of his thumb and huffs out a dry laugh, eyeing the bloody digit. Looking back at Daishou, he stands. “You look thirsty, I’ll go get you some water. Can’t have you croaking on us just yet.”

He’ll bite his fucking throat out if he has to. 

[anzynai]

Only You

Husk x Angel (Hazbin Hotel)

a/n: hello sorry i couldn’t resist writing for them. ive been a fan for years and have been obsessed with the new series so. anyways, yes is them. also, for some reason, i kinda struggled writing for them so sorry if theyre ooc😭😭 still, i hope u enjoy!

summary: angel dust and husk are having another late night talking session when husk learns that angel is ticklish.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: tickling, implied huskerdust, gets a little angsty?? but it gets better

——

It was a normal night. And by normal night, everyone else was asleep, save for Husk, when Angel cracked open the front door, attempting to be silent. Husk was wiping down the glasses when he saw the other. He looked.. rough, and though it hurt Husk to see him like that, he knew he couldn’t do much about it besides offer comfort.

And so followed their usual routine. Angel would ask for a drink and Husk would give him one, but recent developments had them talking late at night. Conversations that would be rare if it were a random Tuesday afternoon, allowing each other to learn more about the other, making them laugh or even cry. Husk wouldn’t admit it but it was secretly becoming an important part of his day and his fondness for the spider was growing.

Today wasn’t much different. After pouring himself and Angel a drink, he went to sit next to Angel. Talking the night away, casually, and when Angel began to tease him about whatever, he poked Angel in the side.

“Ha—!” Angel jumped before he hurriedly tried to change the conversation, but Husk was intrigued.

“You’re ticklish?” Husk asked, almost incredulously but amused nonetheless. He didn’t know why he was so surprised.

“Eh.. I guess so..” Angel muttered, averting his eyes. Husk was almost shocked. He expected Angel to say something more… flirtatious, but he decided not to ponder on it too much.

That was his first mistake. He reached over to give the other a few squeezes on the other’s side when..

“NO!” Angel shouted, fearful and panicked, as he pushed Husk's hands from him. He lost his balance off the small barstool, and met the ground with a loud thump. Husk could feel his heart sinking to the pit of his stomach at the look on Angel’s face. He got off the stool, crouching in front of the spider.

“Angel..?” He whispered, gently, reaching a hand towards him, but not quite touching, in case Angel didn’t want to be touched. He scolded himself, inwardly. He had been swept by Angel’s usual flirtatious persona and assumed that he was always fine with being touched, but perhaps he wasn’t correct with that thinking? Angel seemed surprise by his own reaction because he shook his head and forced a smile to Husk.

“Sorry about that, Whiskers. Guess I’m still feeling a bit jittery.” He laughed, nervous and timid.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” Husk asked. He didn’t want to make Angel think he had to pretend to be fine. He wanted Angel to be true to his feelings and know that he can confide in the cat. Angel looked down at the ground.

“Sorry.” Angel muttered, repositioning himself, loosely hugging his knees. His lower set of hands rubbed against each other.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.” Husk reassured, moving to sit by Angel, who looked incredibly guilty. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“You— you didn’t. I just.. I don’t know.” Angel faltered, seemingly struggling on his words. Husk tried to smile at him, but Angel didn’t seem to see it.

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t need to explain. I won’t try to tickle you again.” Husk told him and Angel finally looked up at him.

The spider paused for a moment, as if thinking. He seemed.. embarrassed.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out before he averted his eyes. Husk listened. “You can tickle me,” The bartender’s eyes widened in disbelief. From his reaction, he wouldn’t have thought Angel would have given him permission to tickle him. “.. If you want.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t want me to.”

“I didn’t say that.” Angel admitted.

“You want me to?” Husk jaw was nearly on the floor at this point.

“I’d always love your hands on me~” Angel purred, trying to lighten the mood.

“Angel.” Husk said, almost sternly, but mostly because he didn’t want to cross the actor’s boundaries.

“Fine. Yeah. I want you to. Happy?” Angel rolled his eyes, but there was a bit of redness on his cheeks. “Only you.”

Husk could feel his heart flutter in ways he did not want to address anytime soon and he tried to will away the blush that he could feel making its way to his face. He didn’t say anything, but he slowly lifted his hands to Angel, giving a gentle squeeze, as if testing the waters.

Angel giggled quietly, but he didn’t push him away. Feeling more confident, he scooted closer and lightly kneaded his hands on the spider’s body, occasionally scratching at his tummy.

“Hehehe… Huhuhusk..” Angel laughed, a genuine smile appearing on his face. Husk decided that he wouldn’t do too much with the tickling. Angel deserved gentleness and that’s what he wanted to give him tonight.

“Ticklish?” Husk cooed, teasing.

“Youhuhu knohow I a-ahaham!”

“Well, I do now.” Husk agreed, going to Angel’s tummy for real this time. He clawed at the thin fabric that very evidently outlined Angel’s frame. Angel was thin, he noticed. He worried that Angel may have been on a diet, as he knew many actors tended to be, but he decided not to ask. He wanted to cheer Angel up, not interrogate him.

His stomach seemed to be a sensitive spot, kicking up a bigger reaction than his sides.

“Hahahha! Nohohot thehehere!”

“Oh? Then where?”

“I dohohon’t knohohow!”

“Aren’t you hopeless?” The bartender chucked, lighthearted, but as per Angel’s wishes, he moved spots. Instead, he began to poke and prod in between Angel’s ribs. Less sensitive than the stomach. Still, about the same as his sides.

“Wahahahaha!” As soft laughter continued to spill from the actor’s lips, not once had he asked Husk to stop. Angel must not mind being tickled.

“How do you get anything done, being so ticklish?” Husk joked, but he reached a hand to boop Angel’s nose.

“People dohohon’t reheheheally tihihickle me!” Angel tried to speak, as if it were a normal conversation and not just Husk teasing him.

“Really? It’s adorable.” Husk said, before he could stop it. Angel blushed slightly at that, but didn’t respond. Husk smiled at him, fondly. It wasn’t as though he was lying. Angel did look quite cute like this, so genuine and so sweet.

He let it go on for only a few minutes before Angel finally asked him to stop. He did, but he stayed close to Angel. Angel leaned his head on his shoulder and the both fell silent, only the sound of Angel breathing and catching his breath could be heard.

“That was fun.” Angel admitted, after a while. “I’m used to people touching me because they want my body. So when you touched me.. I panicked.”

“I’m sorry. I should have asked first.” Husk murmured, feeling guilty.

“No! You did nothing wrong.” Angel rushed to say. “I don’t mind you touching me. And you were so gentle, even when I didn’t ask you to be… it was.. nice.”

“I liked it too.” Husk whispered, feeling embarrassed. That’s when Angel looked up at him, looking in his eyes that made Husk feel flustered.

“Wouldn’t mind if we did that more often. Maybe, next time you should be on the receiving side, though~” Husk gulped.

“Don’t bother trying. I ain’t ticklish.”

“Oh? That so, Kitty? Wanna put it to the test?” Angel smirked, as he wiggled his fingers at Husk. And there it was. Typical Angel.

Still, Husk wondered why he wasn’t so bothered by his flirting this time. He did not have any time to think any more on that before Angel decided he was going to prove that Husk’s statement of “not being ticklish” was, in fact, a lie. Ha.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 2 -Feet on the ground

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

No specific warnings in this one (apart from Biker!Bucky of course). Some brief references to grief. Sorry it's on the shorter side, just need to set up our story. Thanks to all who have reblogged/commented, it means a lot!

You sipped your drink as you told Bucky all about granny and moving into her house. He nodded solemnly as he leaned on the bar and listened intently, the depth of his attention surprising you. You didn’t expect him to be so easy to talk to. Behind you, Wanda and Vis were very obviously pretending to be chatting, while clearly eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Oh yeah, she was a nice lady. I’m sorry for your loss,” Bucky told you with sincerity after you’d finish the whole tale. “She was a tough old gal”.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied quietly, not realising until now what an emotional gut punch it still was to talk about her. “And yeah…she was”.

You cleared your throat and changed the subject. You cocked an eyebrow and looked at him curiously.

“So…what’s your deal?”

He grinned, “What’d you mean?”

“You know,” you pointed to his kutte, “all this. You’re one of the top guys, I guess? I’m sorry, I don’t really know the lingo…”

“I’m the President” he smirked and pointed to one of his patches, clearly a little amused by your ignorance.

You peered over at the fabric square. “Mm. So, what, you drive around town on your bikes causing mayhem and throwing darts at women’s butts?”

“Something like that, yeah,” he laughed. “But mostly we’re here, or at the auto shop across town”.

“Busy, busy” you teased. “I’m sure its all legitimate and above board…”

He winked. God, what a dangerous wink. You instinctively knew that wink had ruined lives.

You both exchanged a small smile.

“You’re not afraid of me, huh?” Bucky teased.

“Should I be?” you boldly shot back.

He grinned. “No. But a lot of people are”.

“Well…your aesthetics aren’t super warm and fuzzy”.

“No…guess not”.

You continued to sip your drink as you tried to fight off the nagging voice telling you to back off. God only knows what he gets up to when he’s not at the bar or fixing cars or at whatever other business fronts they had. You didn’t need another dangerous, no-good man in your life…You were only supposed to sort the house out, live quietly for a little while and then leave. Not get embroiled with the locals, and certainly not with the President of a probably criminal motorcycle club…

…and yet…

“So…you working while you’re staying here?” he asked curiously.

“Mm. Maybe. I have some savings. And thankfully the mortgage at my grandmother’s place is paid off, so at least that’s one less thing. But I might get something part time to keep the lights on”.

Bucky smirked and held his arm up to the bar behind you. “Work here”.

You laughed. “What? Yeah, good one…”

“I’m serious. You need extra cash. We apparently need some help here after you tore my poor bartender apart. So why not? Sounds like you have some experience…”

“I do yeah…but…”

“But what?” he asked, a hint of interrogation in his voice.

“Well, I was thinking more like a coffee shop or delivering pamphlets or something. Not working nights with drunks…”

“Oh, but we’re friendly drunks. Plus, the regulars tip well,” he pushed. “You can spend the days working on the house and then do a few evenings here until you move on. It’s perfect”.

You frowned. It was pretty perfect, actually. You thought about protesting, but as you looked back at Bucky’s expression you immediately understood that this was someone who was very used to getting his own way.

“You’re not gonna drop this, are you?” you asked.

“Nope” he responded, popping the ‘p’ and shaking his head.

You sighed, chewing your lip with hesitation.

“Will your club mind? I mean…they don’t know me. All they know is I yelled at one of them”.

“Eh. Everyone yells at Parker”, he shrugged. “You’ll fit right in”.

You frowned, then looked back at him suspiciously.

“But…Why are you doing this? You barely know me. I might be a serial killer for all you know…”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve met a lot of bad guys in my time, Sugar, and trust me, you get pretty good at figuring people out. Plus, I get it, grief is tough, and your grandmother lived here all her life and was a big part of the community. And you’re her family. We do look out for one another here; this is our home after all”.

You blinked in surprise, not expecting that answer. Your sceptical side half believed he just wanted to get in your pants, but he sounded sincere regardless.

You looked over at his group who were laughing and drinking jovially, then across the room at the wide range of clientele. You’d certainly had worked at worse places.

Sighing, you turned back to Bucky. “Well…fine. Let’s do it. But I’m not wearing booty shorts or anything ridiculous for a uniform”.

This coaxed a belly laugh from him. “No…only the male bartenders wear those,” he quipped. “Jeans and tees are fine. Maybe a flannel if you really wanna mix it up”.

You nodded. “Okay, I can do that”.

He smiled back at you sweetly, but a hint of something edgier lay beneath. The way he eyed you made you feel…exposed. Like you were a doe caught in the crosshairs. It wasn’t unpleasant, no, in fact it made your lower belly surge, sending a wave of butterflies through you.

“Welcome aboard, Sugar” he grinned.

You smiled back, once again knowing full well you were treading into dangerous territory...but unable to stop yourself.

[lyraa-kill]

Freshly 18 John MacTavish who works as some sleazy bar and grille as a waiter. His “best friend” is the 35 year old bartender that’s been nicknamed Ghost (John keeps asking why, but no one will tell him). John is constantly yapping to Ghost on his shift about anything. School, home, things he likes, etc. Ghost pretends to be nonchalant and not care what this kid has to say, but inside he’s REEEELING over the fact this cute boy is talking to him and loves being around him. He only pretends to be uncaring because he’s scared if he says more than a few words at a time he’ll confess his undying love for John and scare him off. After all, a kid as young as him wouldn’t want someone so old, right?

Well, that’s until John is beaming when he comes into work, all giggles and smiles and bright laughs. Ghost can’t help himself and asks what’s got him all cheery. John is all too quick to answer that he met a guy. Ghost is livid. But he pretends to not care, like usual. He asks him how they met, what he’s like, how old he is. John answers that his friend took him to a club, and a stranger bought him a drink and danced with him. And he mentions that he was so so excited and felt so grown up from the fact the stranger was thirty-two years old.

Ghost sees red. He can barely contain his anger. He can’t cope with the fact that another old dirtbag is trying to swoop in on the boy he so obviously (not really) has made a claim on.

So, after work, he runs after John as he’s walking down the sidewalk to catch the bus and go home. Tells him to get dinner with him, let Ghost drive him home. John agrees.

Dinner is nice, but John feels that Ghost is holding back, biting his tongue. Being eerily quiet. But he doesn’t mind, the food is too good and he knows better than to try and get the man to open up about what he’s feeling. For fuck’s sake, he doesn’t even know his real name. Just Ghost.

After dinner, they hop in Ghost’s car and John tells him where to go to get to his house. But Ghost doesn’t listen. No, he finds some backroad in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and the cloud of night.

John asks where they are, why Ghost stopped the car. All Ghost does is lean over the seat and climb on top of John, straddling his lap and pinning him down. He captures him in a fierce kiss, John’s first ever. He grips him everywhere, touching all along his sides, his chest, his neck, his hair. Completely consumed by the desire to touch him and hold him and make sure that he was his and his alone.

When they break apart, Ghost mumbles, “Forget about that fucking guy you told me about earliee. Delete his number.”

John huffs, out of breath, “What? Why?”

Ghost growls. “Because I fucking told you to, Johnny. You don’t know what he wants with you. He’s some scumbag, probably.” He then flashes a toothy grin. “But it doesn’t matter. You’re mine anyways.”

John looks up at him with so much love and adoration in his eyes it ignites something inside Ghost, forcing him to lock John in a kiss again and take it to the backseat.

When all is said and done, and John is laying on top Ghost with his head in his chest, he starts to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Ghost asks.

“Nothing.” John smiles. “Just can’t believe you actually fell for it.”

“What’d’ya mean?”

John looks Ghost dead in the eyes and says, “I didn’t meet some man at a club, Ghost. I made that up. I was hoping it’d make you jealous enough to finally fucking do something with me. Glad I got my way.”

Ghost would normally be angry at being played like that. But this time, he’s not. No, he just locks John in another kiss and flips them around so he’s on top, ready to go for round two. After all, what can he be mad about? Johnny is finally his.

[measuredingold]

slow burn

authors note: three posts in ONE month ? who am i ? 🫣 don’t get used to this lol i’m just working on wips i’ve had for months and finally got around to finishing them ! here’s a jolly piece i’ve been working on since… december i think ? lost inspo and then finished it earlier this week :) as always, enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! titled from slow burn by kacey musgraves

pairing: joakim karlsson x reader

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 4.1k

cw/tw: friends to lovers, feelings realization/confessions ( kind of ), jolly is sort of bad at feelings lol, pushy bartender makes reader uncomfy, drinking, ~kissing~, jolly is jealous lol, 18+ minors dni

"Your face is gonna get stuck like that if you don't stop."

Noah's words pull Jolly out of his thoughts, the older flickering his gaze towards his friend. Noah looks smug, lips curled slightly as his eyes glint playfully and all Jolly can do is scoff, rolling his own.

"Fuck off." The Swede mutters, gaze falling back onto you.

Noah hums, "Dude, seriously. You look like you're trying to blow that guy up with your mind."

"Maybe I am." Jolly's quick to respond, eyes cutting towards Noah again before going back to you.

He watches you laugh and he wishes he could hear it from where he's sitting, in the corner on the other side of the bar. He pretends that he does, that sweet little laugh you did when something's actually funny. He can even see the way your eyes crinkle at the sides, nose scrunching as your laughter fills the air. A scowl makes its way back to Jolly's face as he watches you and the bartender continue to chat it up.

"You know what would fix all of this?" Noah sounds closer and Jolly turns his head, seeing the boy had moved his chair closer to Jolly's, throwing his arm around the back of it. "If you just told her that you want to kiss her."

Jolly's eyes narrow. "Can you please shut the fuck up?"

"Dude." It's Noah's turn to roll his eyes. "If you just... I don't know," His arm that's not resting against Jolly's chair moves in front of him, "tell her how you feel, maybe she'd be laughing at your jokes like that."

"She laughs at my jokes." Jolly mutters, almost to himself, peeling his eyes away from his friend. He tries not to look your way, seriously, but he always seems to find you first in a crowd. You're finally walking away from the bar, carefully holding yours and Noah's drinks. "Why did you make her go up by herself? You should've gone."

"She offered!" Noah's quick to defend himself. "She literally got up before I could even stop her, I didn't make her do shit."

Jolly brings his beer up to his mouth to try and hide the smirk that's currently residing there, eyes on you as you finally make your way back to the table.

You had been one of the first people he met out in Los Angeles, through Noah of course because the guy just seemed to fucking know everyone. It's called networking, dude, he would say. Jolly scoffs at the memory before giving you a smile when you sit down, sliding Noah's drink towards him.

"There you are, my good sir." You say, putting on some kind of accent that Jolly thinks is supposed to be British, and he doesn't have the heart to tell you that it's nowhere close.

"Why thank you, m'lady." Noah responds in the same fashion, voice dipping deeper. Something inside Jolly turns when you laugh at the other boy. "Next rounds on me."

You open your mouth to argue, both of them are sure of that, and Noah holds a hand up towards you, eyes narrowing. "No arguing. Jolly just bit my fuckin' head off for making you go up there by yourself, when I didn't even do that."

Jolly groans. "I did not bite your head off."

"Don't listen to him. He was fucking vicious."

You laugh again, much louder this time, and Jolly swears his entire face flushes just from the sound alone.

"Now, why would you do that, Joakim?"

He's always loved the way his name rolled off your tongue, all sweet and soft. Almost like you were made to say it. He takes another sip of his beer, more so to try and hide the smile that's threatening to form and shrugs his shoulders.

"I didn't do anything. Noah's a fucking liar."

Another laugh pulls from you and Jolly lets himself smile now. He hears Noah scoff beside him and knows the younger boy is probably rolling his eyes, slumping back in his seat because he's too goddamn dramatic for his own good.

"Sounds like him." You say, finally picking your own drink up to take a sip. You fall back against your chair, eyes moving between both Jolly and Noah. "He's always been a liar."

"A shit one at that." Jolly remarks, and you laugh again. Pride fills his chest.

See. I make her laugh, Noah.

"I am literally still right here." Noah grumbles and Jolly finally looks at his friend and sees the small curl of his lips to indicate he wasn't actually mad about the teasing. "You're being assholes to the guy who said he'd buy your next drinks."

"My apologies, man." Jolly raises his glass in a cheer before bringing it back to his lips, taking another drink. "Remind me to be an asshole after you get us our drinks."

Noah rolls his eyes and throws up his middle finger, and Jolly tosses his head back in laughter.

The night goes off as it normally would, fucking around with each other, jamming along to whatever song is playing on the speakers around them. Every now and then Jolly would catch you looking at him, and he swore he noticed a slight twinge of color on your cheeks every time he caught you before you quickly looked away. It happens for the fourth time when Noah finally gets up to get you all another round of drinks, and this time Jolly decides to test the waters.

"What?"

Your eyes widen. "Huh?"

"You keep staring." He tries to act cool, passing it off as no big deal as his arms cross over his chest, and he tries to ignore his rapidly beating heart. "Is there something on my face?"

"No."

"Hm." He hums to himself, head tilting. "Just like looking at me?"

That catches you off guard and he grins to himself when he sees your cheeks flush, turning your head away from him to try and hide.

"You're so full of yourself, Joakim."

"Maybe... but you haven't denied it."

You face him again, the slight twinge of color still on your cheeks as your eyes meet. You smile, soft and small and it has Jolly's heart wanting to explode with... whatever it was he was feeling.

"And what if I do?"

That stuns him into silence but only for a moment, eyes never leaving yours. His lips twitch but he tries to suppress the smile that so desperately wants to stretch across his face, flicking his gaze off to the side.

"Well..." He clicks his tongue before gazing at you once again. "I don't blame you."

You raise a brow. "Hm?"

He shrugs then motions to himself. "I'm very handsome. I'm sure you're not the only one who likes to stare."

"Jesus," You roll your eyes but you're laughing, and he finally lets himself smile. "You really are full of yourself."

"Maybe I am." He reaches for his almost beer, taking one more swig of it before placing it back on the table. "But you like it."

The flush on your cheeks and the confused expression on Noah's face once he returned was very well worth it.

"What's going on here?" Noah questions, handing Jolly's beer to him.

"Nothing." You reply quickly, clearing your throat. You glance at him briefly before focusing your gaze on Noah. "Jolly being Jolly."

"That could mean many, many things." Noah sits back down, sliding your drink towards you before looking at Jolly. "What'd you do?"

Jolly shrugs but says nothing, bringing the new bottle of beer up to his lips, taking a long sip. Both you and Noah stare at him, Noah even more confused than before and your eyes narrowed playfully, causing Jolly to chuckle to himself.

"Ooo-kay." Noah drags out his words, not looking convinced one bit.

"Jesus." You sputter out after taking a sip of your drink, face scrunched up in disgust. "What the fuck did you get me, Noah?"

"A vodka redbull?"

"Are you sure?" You push your drink towards him and he takes it easily, bringing it to his lips and taking a sip.

"Holy shit." He coughs, pushing the drink away from him. "What the fuck is that?"

"That's why I'm asking you!"

"Listen. I ordered a vodka redbull. Your bartender boy is the one who made it so he's the one who fucked up. Take it up with him."

Jolly internally groans at the mention of the bartender from earlier, and rolls his eyes, bringing his beer back up to his lips and taking another long sip.

Of course he fucked it up. Not shocking at all.

"I'm going to." You grumble, staring down at the drink in front of you with extreme distaste. "I can't believe you paid for this."

"What was I supposed to do, drink it?”

"Yes." Both you and Jolly say in unison, casting each other amused glances.

"Unbelievable." Noah grumbles, slumping back against his chair. "Can’t believe you’re being mean to the guy who willingly bought you drinks.”

"You poor baby. How will you ever survive?" Noah grumbles something low under his breath, arms crossing over his chest. You snort before turning your focus on Jolly, eyes softening. "I'm gonna go get whatever the fuck this is fixed. I'll be back."

He nods, lips pressed into a straight line as he watches you walk back up to the bar. His eyes narrow when he notices the bartender find you immediately, a smug smirk sliding onto his lips. Jolly frowns as the realization dawns on him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Jolly all but groans before throwing his drink back, taking another nice, long sip.

"What?" Noah's no longer pouting, looking between him and the bar. "What's going on?"

"He did this on purpose, dude." He grumbles, gaze planted on you and the overly flirty bartender. "Knew what she was drinking. Made it shitty so she'd have to come back up there and talk to him."

"Shit." Noah nods to himself, bringing his drink to his lips. “…That's kind of smart when you think about it."

Jolly shoots him a glare.

"What? I'm right!" Noah exclaims. "Fuck up a pretty girls drink so bad she has to come back up and get it fixed, meaning she has to talk to you again? That's smart!"

"And fucking weird." Jolly grumbles, moving his glare away from Noah and back up to the bar.

His fingers tighten around the glass bottle in his hands as you laugh again at something the bartender says, internally rolling his eyes. He's probably not even that funny, he thinks to himself.

He hated that he was jealous. He didn't really have any reason to be, or any right for that matter, because you were just friends. Sure, maybe Noah was right when saying he should just get over it and tell you how he felt, but he can't. Not yet, at least.

Or ever.

Pushing the thought to the back of his mind for the unforeseeable future, he watches you carefully. His fingers tighten around his bottle again when he notices the very second your body language changes at whatever bartender boy is saying to you. Your shoulders stiffen and he can see your brows furrowing, lips dipping into a frown. He definitely just said something you definitely didn't like.

"Uh oh." Noah seems to have noticed as well. "Someone is not happy."

"You think?" Jolly grumbles but his eyes never leave you, glaring at the bartender who leans over the table closer to you.

Everything inside him is telling him to get up and go to you but he keeps himself seated. You can take care of yourself, you don't need him to protect you. You've told him and the boys countless times that you can handle yourself - and you can. He can't help it, though, especially when you take a step back when the bartender tries to reach for your hand, your head shaking.

Fuck that.

He ignores Noah's warning, telling him to let you handle it because he knows you’re capable. He can already hear you calling the bartender out halfway to you but his feet move without much thought. You don't notice him at first, but the bartender does, and the way his eyes narrow at Jolly has him giving the guy a scowl right back, placing his hand on your lower back.

"Hey," He says softly, letting his presence be known. You jump but relax when you see that it's him, relief washing over your face. "Everything alright?"

"Just making her a drink, man."

"I wasn't talking to you." Jolly's response is quick and he doesn't care if he sounds rude, throwing the bartender the fakest smile he can muster before focusing back on you, arm coming up to wrap around your shoulder. "You good?"

Your eyes flick between Jolly and the bartender. "Yeah. I'm good."

"You sure?" He presses. "You didn't look too happy. Decided I should come up here and see what's up."

"Hey man-"

"I thought you were making her a drink?" Jolly tilts his head, feigning innocent curiosity. The others eyes widen, having been taken aback by his words before he frowns, reaching for your now forgotten drink. "Thanks."

"Jolly."

He thinks he's pissed you off, been a bit too rude to your bartender boy, but when he looks at you again you're fighting off a grin.

"What?"

"You're an asshole." You all but sigh out, losing the fight as your lips stretch into a grin.

He can't help but grin down at you, eyes scanning over your face to double check that you weren't upset with him before squeezing your shoulder.

"You love it."

You go to say something but stop when someone clears their throat, the bartender sliding your newly made drink towards you. Jolly lazily moves his gaze back to him, giving him the most unamused look, but his focus isn't on him.

"So, like I was saying before we got interrupted," Jolly doesn't miss the sideways glance the bartender gives him before eyes locking on you again, giving you the sleaziest grin that has Jolly cringing, "in exchange for fixing your drink, why don't you give me that number of yours?"

"Seriously?" Jolly's mouth was moving, but it was you who beat him to the punch. He looks down at you and he has to hold back a laugh as you glare at the bartender in front of you, brows furrowed in disgust. "You fucked with my drink on purpose, dude."

"Yeah, but it was to get you to talk to me again." The guy shrugs as if it's the most obvious thing and Jolly can't help but roll his eyes at him, internally groaning to himself. "Plus, I fixed the drink for free. I think I should be owed something since I didn't make you pay."

"That's fucking weird, man." Jolly finally speaks up, anger washing over him. This dude can't be fucking serious? "She doesn't owe you shit, especially because you fucked it up on purpose."

"This has nothing to do with you."

"I don't give a fuck if it has anything to do with me, you're a fucking creep-"

"Oh, fuck you, man-"

"Stop." Your voice pulls Jolly away from the bartender, casting you a glance. You give him a small, tight-lipped smile before cutting your gaze back to the other, eyes narrowing. "He's right. I don't owe you shit, and the fact that you think I do tells me everything I need to know. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested.”

The guy's jaw twitches and Jolly thinks for a split second he's going to do something rash and he can't help himself from dropping his arm from your shoulder and gently pushing you back. He slips between you and the bar, two barriers to keep you away from this guy. Jolly doesn't avert his gaze from the man in front of him until the bartender sighs, eyes rolling.

"Not even worth it," Jolly swears he hears the bartender grumble under his breath before their eyes lock again. "If you're not going to take the drink, then it's probably time for you guys to leave."

Jolly's eyes narrow. "Are you seriously kicking us out because she doesn't want to give you her fucking number? That's path-"

The bartender looks like he's about to cut him off, and Jolly genuinely wishes he does because he's just dying to rip this guy a new one, but he feels your hand on his back and another presence beside him.

"Everything alright?"

Noah's presence pulls Jolly out of the angry fog that was clouding his mind, head turning to stare at his friend. His expression was hard as his eyes flicked between him, the bartender and you and the bartender's arms crossed over his chest, his angry expression faltering for just a moment.

"Nothing." You say quickly, hand reaching out to circle around Jolly's wrist now. "We were just leaving, actually."

Noah's hard expression was changed to one of confusion, looking down at you with a raised brow. "Really?"

"Yes. Let's go."

With one more glare casted towards the bartender, Jolly let you drag him out of the bar. He ignored the glances from the other people inside, not really caring that anyone saw that. He's actually glad people did and hoped someone recognized that bartender for the fucking creep he is and-

"Jolly."

Your voice catches him off guard and he blinks, staring down at you. You were outside now on the curb and he glanced to his side to find Noah tapping away on his phone, presumably ordering an uber for the three of you. He blinks again and stares down at you once more, a sigh slipping from his lips.

"What?"

"You didn't have to do that."

"Do what?"

"Don't piss me off." You gave him an unamused look, lips pressed in a straight line. "I could've handled it."

"I know." And he does. "I was just making sure you were alright. That’s what friends do.”

You pause, eyeing Jolly. He feels like his skin is on fucking fire under your gaze and does his best to look anywhere but you.

"Joakim," Your voice is soft as you step closer to him, arms crossing over your chest. "Why'd you really do that?"

“I already told you-“

“Were you jealous?”

Your question stuns him and he can only stare down at you. Of course he was jealous. What else would he be? He can’t admit that, though. He was also your friend above all else, though, and seeing that dude make you uncomfortable was the last straw for him.

“Why’d you-“

"Dude." He cuts you off, pinching the bridge of his nose. He doesn't know if it's the anger bubbling through his veins from that interaction, or maybe because Noah's words are still swirling around his mind, but his mouth moves before he thinks twice about it. "You fucking know why."

There's another long pause.

The air shifts between the two of you and Jolly can hear Noah off to the side, shuffling his feet, trying to act like he's not eavesdropping on this conversation when he so obviously is. Your eyes are still on him, he knows that much, and he spares a glance down at you. Your gaze is much softer than before, arms still crossed over your chest, and he swears he sees a hint of a smile on your lips.

"Actually, I don't fucking know why you were a dick to him. Please enlighten me."

Jolly groans. "Dude."

"Dude." You mimic his voice, the smile playing on your lips only growing more and Jolly can't stop his own from forming.

"You know why." His voice drops, much quieter than before, and he finds himself almost feeling... shy? "Don't make me say it, okay?"

Noah clears his throat from beside him, coughing out a quiet, "Say it."

Jolly shoots a glare towards his friend and Noah looks anywhere but him, turning his back to stare at the brick wall of the bar. He rolls his eyes before focusing back on you, your head tilting with a playful grin.

"I think you should take your friend's advice." You take another step closer to him, the tips of your shoes touching now. "Say it."

"I can't."

And it's true. He doesn't think he can. At least not here, with Noah beside him. He thinks it's because he doesn't want to prove the male right. He'll be damned if he boosts Noah's already inflated ego. Another part of him knows that he would rather do it with just the two of you. Privacy, not in the open on the curb of some fucking bar you got kicked out of because the bartender was a creep.

"Why not?"

"Because it's hard." He tilts his head to where Noah's standing, back still turned but most definitely listening in. "Plus, he's right there listening like a creep. Can't boost that ego of his for being right."

"And what is he right about?"

He lets out a soft sigh of your name before saying, "Don't make me say it."

"Okay." Disappointment flashes across your face and Jolly's heart drops for a split second before you speak again, "Show me, then."

"...Show you?"

"Yeah. Show me. Since you can't say it."

His eyes lock with yours, searching for some kind of answer. You can't be asking for that. If it's what Jolly's thinking. Another beat of silence passes and Jolly's eyes drop to your lips quickly before dragging back up your face, but you definitely caught him.

"Are you sure?"

It's probably a dumb thing to ask, he knows, but he can't help it. He needs to know you're sure, one hundred percent positive before he does something that will change the trajectory of your friendship forever. This time it's your eyes that drop to his lips and he definitely doesn't miss the way your tongue darts out, swiping across your bottom lip before your gaze locks with his again.

"Yes. I'm sure."

Jolly could do two things right about now. He could run, like his body is yelling at him to do. Go on like nothing happened and possibly ruin whatever it is the two of you have going on. Or he could just do it. Say fuck it, listen to his mind for once, and right now his mind is screaming about how bad he wants to fucking kiss you.

His eyes search yours one more time, and the way you're staring at him, eyes begging, has his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Fuck it.

He hears you suck in a deep breath, hand reaching up to circle around his wrist to keep his hand there. He chuckles quietly at the feeling of your shaky fingers against his skin and he's glad to know he's not the only one nervous here before dipping his head, lips pressing to yours gently. He keeps it short and simple, not exactly wanting to kiss you the way he's been dreaming of out of this corner. He can tell you don't mind with the way your fingers tighten around his wrist, sighing softly against his lips.

He pulls back moments later and watches your eyes flutter open, a small, satisfied grin settling on your lips.

"Oh." You breathe out, biting down on your bottom lip to contain the smile beginning to form.

Jolly doesn't know what comes over him but the urge to kiss you soars, his chest warming at the thought and he finds himself leaning back in. Your lips don't connect, though, a loud honking from the street causing the two of you to jump apart.

"Ubers here." Noah's already making his way to the Uber and Jolly hears him asking for the driver's name before he finally glances his way. "Keep your hands to yourselves the entire ride, please. I don't want to be traumatized."

"Fuck you, Noah." Both you and Jolly say in unison.

You give each other a look before bursting out into laughter, especially at the not amused look Noah is giving you. He grumbles something before getting into the car and you tug at Jolly's wrist, your fingers still attached to him.

"Let's go."

The smile you give him almost knocks the breath right out of him. He lets you drag him to the car and the three of you cram into the backseat, Noah whining about how he's already squished and how unfair it is. Jolly only grins from beside you when you start to bicker with Noah, his hand coming down to rest on your thigh. You don't stop speaking but your hand does come down to his, fingers lacing with his own.

Jolly turns his head to look out the window, hiding his smile.

[blakeswritingimagines]

The Devil's Knockin' At My Door (Kinktober)

Word Count: 3.4k

Logan, a tall, muscular man with unruly brown hair and piercing blue eyes, smirked as he watched you, walking ahead of him. Your figure was silhouetted in the light, calling to him like a siren’s song. He couldn’t help but appreciate how your hips swayed as you walked. He sauntered up behind you, his voice low as he spoke. “Hey, doll. You’re looking good today.” You stopped in your tracks, your heart beating just a little faster at the familiar voice behind you. You turned around to see Logan standing there, his smirk making your stomach flutter. You pushed back a stray lock of hair behind her ear, trying to seem nonchalant. "Well, aren't you charming?" you teased, a playful smile on your lips. "You're not so bad yourself, cowboy." Logan chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement as they roamed over your face and down your body appreciatively. He stepped closer until only a breath separated you. The scent of his cologne mingled with the earthy aroma of leather from his jacket. "Aw, shucks," he drawled, tipping an imaginary hat. "I reckon I'm just tryin' to keep up with the prettiest gal in town." His hand found the small of your back, fingers grazing the fabric of your shirt as he guided you towards the bar. "Now, why don't we get ourselves a drink and catch up proper-like?"

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers grazed against your back. You let out a nervous laugh, trying to ignore the way your body reacted to his touch. "As if you need to try," you teased, following him towards the bar. As you both took a seat, the dim lighting of the bar cast a soft glow on his face, highlighting the angles of his jawline and the sharp features of his eyes. You felt your pulse quicken and fought against the urge to swoon. Logan leaned back in his chair, his arm brushing against yours under the guise of reaching for a menu. His gaze never left your face, studying every flicker of emotion that crossed it. "So, tell me what's been going on with you," he said, his voice low and inviting. "Been missing that pretty face of yours." He ordered himself a whiskey neat while giving the bartender a wink, a clear indication of their familiarity. His words send a flutter through your heart. You tried to play it cool, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh, you know, the usual," you replied, trying to ignore how your heart beat a little faster each time he looked at you. "Work, hanging out with friends, nothing too exciting." You looked down at the menu, pretending to scan the options, but your mind was elsewhere. Feeling his arm brush against yours under the table sent a jolt of electricity through your body. Logan watched you closely, a knowing grin playing on his lips. He knew exactly how to push your buttons without seeming too obvious about it. "Nothing too exciting? That doesn't sound like you," he commented, his tone teasing yet sincere. When the drinks arrived, he slid one across the counter towards you. "Here, this might help liven things up a bit." His eyes locked onto yours, daring you to meet his challenge head-on.

You chuckled, taking the drink from his hand and trying not to let your fingers linger too long against his. The subtle brush of his skin against yours sent a shiver up your arm. You took a small sip of your drink, the liquid burning its way down your throat. "Is this your idea of livening things up?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. "Because if it is, you're going to have to try harder than that, cowboy." He pulled away slightly, his eyes roaming over your face before settling on your lips. "But first, why don't you tell me what you've been up to? I wanna hear all about it." He settled back into his chair, his posture relaxed yet attentive, ready to listen intently to whatever you had to say. Logan listened attentively, nodding along as though genuinely interested in your day-to-day life. But when the drinks arrived, he set aside the pretense and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Let's cut to the chase here," he murmured, his eyes locked onto yours. "I've missed our late-night talks, the way your hair falls across your shoulders… And most importantly," he paused, leaning even closer, "the way your lips part when you whisper my name." Your heart hammered in your chest as he leaned closer, his words sending a wave of heat through your body. You tried to keep a cool exterior, but his eyes, fixed on yours with such unwavering intensity, made it hard to keep your composure. "You know, you always know how to get under my skin," you said, taking another sip of your drink to hide the shiver that ran down your spine. "And I didn't realize you were paying that close attention to the way I whisper your name," you added, a hint of tease in your voice.

He chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the air between them. "Oh, doll, you'd be surprised at how much I pay attention," he whispered, his voice barely above a murmur. He reached out, tracing a finger down the side of your arm, watching the goosebumps rise in response. "It's been far too long since we've had some real fun together," he continued, his voice dropping lower still. "How 'bout we skip the chit-chat and move right along to the good stuff?" Your breath hitched as his finger traced down your arm, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The sound of his voice, low and sultry, sent a shiver down your spine and ignited a flame within you. You felt your resolve weakening, but you still tried to play coy. "The good stuff, huh? And what exactly do you have in mind?" you asked, a coy smile playing at the corners of your lips. He leaned back, letting his gaze roam over your curves once more before locking back onto your eyes. "I think you already know," he said, his smirk returning. "But let's make it interesting," he suggested a wicked gleam in his eye. "Winner gets to call the shots." He raised his glass, clinking it lightly against yours. "Your move, doll." You swallowed hard, your breath coming a little quicker. The idea of a little game piqued your interest, and despite your best efforts to appear unaffected, your body hummed in anticipation. You lifted your glass, tapping it gently against his, meeting his gaze with a mix of challenge and desire. "You're on," you said, your voice a mix of feigned casualness and underlying excitement. "Bring it on."

Logan's lips curled into a triumphant smile as he caught sight of the spark in your eyes. "That's the spirit," he praised, his voice warm with approval. With a fluid motion, he downed his drink in one swift gulp, setting the empty glass down with a decisive thud. He looked back at you expectantly, waiting to see if you could match his pace. You couldn't help but chuckle at his display, his confidence adding fuel to the fire burning inside of you. Despite feeling a bit of trepidation, you matched his move, downing your drink in a single gulp. The liquid burned your throat as it went down, sending a pleasant wave of heat through your body. You placed the empty glass down firmly, meeting his gaze with a determined look. "Don't underestimate me, cowboy," you warned, a hint of challenge in your tone. Logan's eyes widened slightly in surprise at your bold move, but quickly recovered, a newfound respect shining in his gaze. "Damn, doll, you've got some grit," he complimented, his voice tinged with admiration. He signaled the bartender for another round, his expression turning mischievous. "Alright then, let's see if you can keep up," he challenged, downing his second drink just as swiftly as the first. He set the glass down with a smirk, his eyes never leaving yours. "Your turn, sweetheart." You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at his reaction, a sly smile forming on your lips. However, the alcohol was starting to take effect, leaving you feeling a little more daring than usual. You downed your next drink with a confidence that surprised even you, the liquid's warmth spreading through your body like a comforting blanket. Your eyes flickered to Logan, locking onto his gaze with a mixture of defiance and attraction. "You sure you can handle me?" you taunted, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Logan's eyes darkened at your challenge, his own bravado rising to meet yours. "Handle you?" he repeated, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "Darlin', I'm not just handling you—I'm about to show you a night you won't forget." He signaled for another round, his movements deliberate and sure. As he drained his third drink, he glanced over at you, his expression smoldering. "Your move," he dared, his voice a low growl that seemed to vibrate through the room. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the alcohol and his intense gaze making your head spin. Despite feeling a little dizzy, you didn't back down. You reached for your glass, a flicker of determination in your eyes. The liquid slid down your throat easily now, the warm buzz in your head growing stronger. You set the glass back down with more force than necessary, a slight heat growing after each drink. "You talk a big game, cowboy," you countered, a hint of breathlessness in your voice. "But let's see if you can back it up." Logan's eyes flashed with excitement at your words, his breathing growing heavier. He stood up abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. In two long strides, he closed the distance between you, his tall frame looming over yours. "Oh, I plan to back it up, sweetheart," he promised, his voice a husky whisper. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending sparks dancing across your skin. "In fact, I'm gonna show you just how well I can handle you." His lips brushed against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Care to find out?"

Your heart beat faster in your chest, his proximity and the heat of his body drawing you in. His touch sent electricity coursing through your veins, and his words left you a breathless mess. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure even as the alcohol and his presence were clouding your thoughts. "I��I think you should," you managed to utter, your voice shaky. The room felt hot, the air between you charged with tension. But instead of feeling intimidated, you found yourself eagerly anticipating what he would do next. Logan's grin grew wider at your admission, his hands moving to grip your hips, pulling you flush against him. "Glad to hear it," he murmured, his mouth hovering just inches from yours. He could taste the desire on your lips, the sweet scent of your arousal filling his senses. "Let's not waste any more time talking," he breathed out, capturing your lips with his in a searing kiss that left no doubt about his intentions as his hand moved up your thigh closer to where you needed him most. You melted against him, your body fitting perfectly against his as he pulled you closer. Your fingers clutched his shirt, seeking an anchor as your mind grew fuzzy with desire. The taste of his lips and the feel of his hands on your body sent jolts of pleasure through you, making it hard to think clearly. You responded to his kiss with equal fervor, your lips moving against his hungrily. Your breaths mingled in the heated space between you, and your hips involuntarily rocked against his hand.

Logan groaned into the kiss, his tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. His hand slipped higher, cupping your sex through the fabric of your dress. He could feel the damp heat emanating from you, and it only fueled his hunger. Breaking the kiss, he trailed his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Fuck, you're so wet for me already," he rasped, his fingers dipping beneath the edge of your panties to stroke your slick folds. "I've barely touched you, and you're dripping." His thumb found your clit, circling the swollen bud with increasing pressure like you both weren't still sitting down inside a bar. "Tell me you want this, baby. Tell me you need my cock inside you." His words and actions had you panting, your body writhing against his touch. The sensation of his fingers exploring your most intimate areas made your legs tremble, and you bit back a moan. "Yes," you gasped out, your voice barely above a whisper. "God, yes, I want it. I need it," you confessed, your resolve crumbling under the weight of your desire. You gripped his wrist, guiding his hand against you, desperate for more contact. Logan's eyes darkened with lust at your confession, his fingers slipping deeper into your wet heat. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. "Let me make you feel good." He pumped his fingers slowly at first, letting you adjust to the intrusion before picking up speed. His thumb continued its relentless assault on your clit, circling and pressing until you were squirming against his hand. "So fucking tight," he groaned, his own arousal straining against his jeans. "Can't wait to feel this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock." He captured your lips again, swallowing your moans as he finger-fucked you right there in the middle of the crowded bar.

Your mind blanked out completely, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through your body. Logan's fingers plunged in and out of you, stretching and filling you in the most delicious way. The combination of his skilled touch and the liquor in your system pushed you closer and closer to the edge. Your hips bucked slowly against his hand, seeking more friction, more pressure. You broke the kiss, your breath coming in ragged pants. "Please," you whimpered, your nails digging into his arm. "I need more. I need you inside me." Logan pulled his fingers free from your drenched pussy with a wet sound, leaving you aching for more. He grinned wickedly at your plea, standing up to tower over you. "As you wish," he said, unbuckling his belt with practiced ease. He unzipped his jeans, freeing his throbbing member. "Come sit down on my lap, darlin'," he commanded, his voice thick with lust. "It's time I gave you what you're begging for, just be quiet and don't make it obvious." Your body trembled with anticipation, the thought of having him fill you completely sending waves of pleasure through you. You shifted off the stool, swaying slightly as you tried to maintain your balance. You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, the cool air hitting your exposed flesh. You lowered yourself onto his cock, taking him in inch by glorious inch. A soft moan escaped your lips despite your best efforts to stay silent, but the pleasure was too much to bear.

Logan's hands tightened on your hips, holding you steady as you took all of him. "Fuck, yeah," he groaned, his eyes locked on the sight of you impaled on his dick. He thrust upwards gently, allowing you to adjust to his size. "Ride me, baby," he urged, his voice laced with raw need. "Show me how much you love my cock." He leaned forward, his lips finding the tender skin of your neck once more, nibbling and kissing along the sensitive area. Your inner walls clenched around him instinctively, your body welcoming his girth. You began to move, rocking your hips slowly at first, savoring the fullness. Each thrust sent ripples of pleasure coursing through you, and you couldn't help but let out another soft moan. You buried your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds escaping your lips. "Logan," you whispered, your voice filled with longing. "Feels so good." Logan's control snapped at your whispered praise, The sound of your voice saying his name was music to Logan's ears, spurring him on. He tilted his head back, exposing the column of his throat, silently inviting you to mark him. "That's it, baby," he praised, his hands gripping your ass, massaging the flesh as he guided you on top of him slowly. "You're so fucking tight and warm," he growled, his breath hot against your skin. "I could fuck you all night. Shit, you feel incredible," he growled, his hands sliding up to grasp your breasts, thumbs teasing your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress. He squeezed them roughly, pinching and rolling the hardened buds as he pounded up into you. "Take it all, baby. Milk my cock with that perfect cunt." His lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of ecstasy as he fucked you harder, the force of his thrusts causing your breasts to bounce enticingly.

The pleasure was overwhelming, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. Logan's hands on your body, his words in your ear, everything about him was designed to push you further. You arched your back, pressing your breasts into his palms, the sensation of his fingers on your nipples sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core. You met his thrusts with equal vigor, grinding down on him with abandon. "Logan!" you cried out, unable to hold back any longer. "I'm gonna…" Logan felt your walls fluttering around his shaft, signaling your impending release. He redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with wild abandon. "That's it, baby," he urged, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own climax. "Cum for me. Let everyone see how good I make you feel." He reached between your bodies, finding your clit with his thumb. He rubbed the sensitive bundle of nerves in tight circles, pushing you over the edge. "Fuck, I can feel you tightening," he groaned, his hips stuttering as he neared his own peak. "Shit, I'm gonna cum. You want my load, baby? Want me to fill this greedy little pussy?" Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body shaking uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure consumed you. "Oh god, yes!" you screamed, not caring who heard you. Your inner muscles clamped down around Logan's cock, milking him for all he was worth. The knowledge that people were watching only heightened your pleasure, adding an element of danger and excitement to the whole experience. "Fill me up," you begged, your voice hoarse from screaming. "Give me every last drop." You rocked your hips frantically, desperate to prolong your high and bring him to completion.

Logan's control shattered at your desperate pleas, his hips snapping up to meet yours in a frenzied rhythm. "Fucking take it," he roared, his voice echoing off the walls of the bar. He drove into you one final time, his cock pulsing as he spilled himself deep inside your spasming cunt. "Shit, shit, shit," he chanted, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy as he emptied his balls into you. He held you close, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rode out the aftershocks of his orgasm. When he finally stilled, he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "Damn, that was incredible," he murmured, his chest heaving with exertion. "We may have drawn some attention, and as much as I wouldn't change a thing let's get out of here." He nuzzled your hair, already planning their next illicit encounter. As the haze of pleasure began to clear, you realized that indeed, quite a crowd had gathered around you two, whispering and pointing. Embarrassment crept up your spine, but it was quickly replaced by a sense of smug satisfaction. After all, you'd just experienced one of the most intense orgasms of your life, and Logan had made it happen. You smiled up at him, still feeling the warmth of his seed deep inside you. "Definitely time to go," you agreed, reluctantly dismounting his lap. You smoothed down your rumpled dress, trying to look presentable despite the evidence of your recent activities. As you walked out of the bar together, you glanced back at the curious onlookers, a mischievous glint in your eye. This was just the beginning of many more secret trysts with Logan.