#Red Booth Productions

[flashfuckingflesh]

Ancestor's Didn't Quite Incinerate All the EVIL. "The Ones You Didn't Burn" reviewed! (MVD Visual / DVD)

Burn While You Got’em. “The Ones You Didn’t Burn” on DVD home video! Siblings Nathan and Mirra are reunited at their childhood farm home after their father suddenly passes away from drowning.  The self-well-kempt Mirra handles the business end of their father’s farmland estate as the recovering drug addict Nathan struggles with his past urges while also helping with the cleanout of their…

[kristybluebird]

Not Touga cutting his thumb open on the same puppet strings he uses to control Nanami!

“Ah dance, ancient continental theater”

[parfaitblogs]

making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu

Alcohol is a depressant. 

You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 

You knew that. 

You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 

The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 

Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.

Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 

Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 

You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 

"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 

"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"

An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."

He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"

"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."

"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"

"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 

"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."

"Mm."

Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too."

No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 

True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 

"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 

"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.

The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 

The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 

It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.

You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 

You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 

He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 

"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.

"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"

He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"

"That'll just distract me."

"Is that what you want?"

You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 

"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."

His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 

"Sorry," you mumble.

"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"

"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."

"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.

"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 

"Yeah, probably. That's fine."

You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.

"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."

He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.

He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 

"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."

"You already talk a lot."

His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."

"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."

"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 

"My friends will think I'm boring, then."

He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"

"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"

"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"

Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 

Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."

You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 

"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 

"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."

"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 

"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."

"I don't think they will either."

He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 

"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.

"You've caught me."

He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 

"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 

He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."

"I know."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[cry4mina]

Jealousy

(Sana x fem!reader)

Word Count: 6.7k

Smut/Play angst/Fluff

Summary: You have a friend from college that is coming to visit and is very affectionate with you. Sana doesn't like that and retaliates before taking this "issue" into her own hands.

TW: THIS IS JUST FUCKING WITH A HINT OF BACK STORY. drinking, food, eating, sex, oral, strap ons, jealousy, degrading, top sanaaaaaaaaa, choking, hand cuffs, just a whole brain rot moment. Let me know if I missed anything.

AN: Hey hi hellooooo! (I BARELY PROOF READ THIS PLS FORGIVE) I feel so out of practice with writing! I had the brain rot and needed to do the thing. I hope you all enjoy this! Thank you to @ghostykapi for always helping me get plot points down like girl what would I do without you and for @psylocke142 and @sscieloz because the three of you constantly keep me sane while I'm losing it when brain does not work LMAO

Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤

“You don’t need to be nervous, babe. She’s going to love you!” reassuring your wife sitting next to you in the booth of your favorite cafe.

Nayeon, your best friend from college/roommate at the time was in town and wanted to visit and catch up with you - and meet your wife, Sana. You couldn’t be more excited for them to finally make acquaintance after years of talking both of them up to each other.

“I know, I know but I just know how much she means to you and I want to make a good impression, you know?” puppy dog eyes looking up at you, melting you as always.

Sana looked stunning today, wearing a lavender cardigan and a white tank top underneath with some light washed oversized jeans paired with white sneakers. Her hair is long and framing her face so perfectly, with a lavender bow in her hair.

Looking so sweet and kind, glowing in her seat while making eye contact with you. You’re so in love with her, a masterpiece come to life - moving ethereally and making beautiful waves that crash happiness and warmth into the depths of your soul.

Submerging you completely into Minatozaki Sana.

“And you will, my love.” slipping your hand into hers, toying with the ring that was the product of the love built between the two of you.

“You’re sure?” looking down at your hands intertwined, watching as your hands fiddle with the gold band and then back up at your eyes that were filled with pure admiration.

“Never been more sure about anything.” beamed back at her.

It was true, asking her to marry you was the best decision you had ever made and you would do it a million times over, in every single life.

Sana’s cheeks flush red, bringing the hand that wasn’t intertwined with yours under the table up to cover her own smile, sheepishly trying to not get flustered with the way you still flirted with her, even after years of being together.

“Hello! My name is Michael. Can I start you off with some drinks?” the waiter must have snuck up to the table while you were wrapped in each other.

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” looking over to Sana who is still trying to compose herself.

“And she will have a hot green tea with honey, thank you.”

“Ma’am?” looking over to Sana.

The waiter seems to be completely ignoring what you said your wife wants…Cocking your head and furrowing your brows, you tilt your head up to look at him.

“I’d like what she said I wanted, thanks.” confusion laces her voice as the waiter sighs with a smile at the sound of her voice and walks to gather your drinks.

“What the fuck is that about?” back tensing in anger, staring daggers at the man who just flirted with your wife.

“You’re cute when you’re angry.” a cold finger catches your chin and leads you to look right into her eyes, inching her face closer and closer to you.

“Nothing to worry about, baby.” voice squeaking with pure happiness at your jealousy as she places her lips on yours, sending you into a whirl wind.

“I’m all yours…forever, remember?” lifting her hand out of yours to flash you the ring and wink.

It takes everything in you to not sink to the floor, you never should’ve taught her how to wink. It’s going to be the death of you and you’re already so weak to her touch that a wink on top of it could send you into a spiral of thoughts of love, and some others that are lust driven.

“Y/n?!” shouted from the front of the cafe, the voice is familiar that can only mean one thing.

“Oop! There she is!” standing up to spot her.

Seeing her and trying to catch Nayeon’s attention and wave her to the table.

Nayeon was wearing a very small crop top, showing off her stomach, and a very small pair of shorts. Very revealing, which doesn’t surprise you. She was always comfortable in her s

“You’re late!” is how you decided to her her attention.

Squealing at the sight of you, you open your arms for Nayeon to practically tackle you to the floor.

“I missed you so much Y/nnie! Look at you! You’re glowing. Ugh I just know that Sana is taking SUCH good care of you. And this, is your color.” grabbing your face and kissing your cheeks obnoxiously with a loud smack to each side, before tugging on the royal blue sweater you were currently wearing and pointing down to the shoes that matched it.

“I miss you too, Nay! I promise you she is and thank you!” bringing her in for another tight hug before letting go, Nayeon’s hand trailed down your arm and stopped in your hand, linking your fingers together.

Head turning start your introductions to one another and you realize that you might’ve forgotten to tell Sana that Nayeon is very physically affectionate…and that it meant nothing…oops.

Your wife’s jaw is on the floor, eyes wide and you can see the annoyance simmering underneath the shocked expression on her face.

“Nayeon! This is my wife, Sana.” throwing the word “wife” in, hoping that it would calm Sana enough to get through lunch so you could explain yourself later.

Already knowing that this was going to be a big conversation tonight.

“Oh my goodness! You’re stunning!” Nayeon let go of your hand and brought them up to grab Sana’s, pulling her out of her chair.

“It’s so so so lovely to meet you! I’ve heard so many wonderful things!” Joyfully offered to your wife as Nayeon wrapped her arms around her.

“Likewise!” Sana’s voice is chipper but the glare she’s giving you from over Nayeon’s shoulder is the exact opposite.

“Shit.” stated under your breath, as Nayeon and Sana part ways to create more small talk between the two of them, everyone taking their seats to get brunch started.

Sana and you take your place on the side of the table you were already on, Nayeon sitting across from you in the booth as your wife and bestfriend slip from small talk into questions about each other.

Both of them seem comfortable, this is great.

A jealous Sana was sexy, the way anger flared behind her eyes never failed to get you wet, even though it was usually not the time for it. Not willing to let this become a situation of jealousy because it’s Nayeon…if it was a stranger, sure but you want these two to get along.

Maybe Sana would get to know Nayeon and realize that the affection wasn’t something that meant anything at all.

Maybe she’s already forgotten.

The waiter walks back over and places your drinks down on the table, only addressing Sana in the process.

“Here you are, Ma’am.” his hands are slightly shaky as he placed the drink down.

“Thank you, sweet heart.” winking at him seductively.

…she had not forgotten…

You were regretting teaching her to wink even more so, as watched as the waiter’s thoughts leave his mind, swearing you could see his heart beat in his neck.

“uh…uhm...N-no p-p-problem, m-ma’am.” tugging at his collar to relieve some of the pressure Sana just placed on him.

Nudging her with your elbow, the look you’re giving her sliced through all the tension of this and was now turning into something she saw as a game.

Pawn move, your turn.

Nayeon is taking all of this in, without interrupting the show unfolding, leaning back in her seat and cocking an eyebrow. Does she realize what’s actually happening here or does she think that Sana is insane?

“I’ll take an iced americano, thank you.” to the panicked man, giving him the exit he seemed to crave so desperately.

“Right away, ma’am!” rushing off behind the doors to the kitchen, you swear you can hear his sigh of relief when he steps out of sight.

“So how is Jeongyeon? How are things?” inquiring so you can distract for what she was witnessing.

“She’s great! She’s back home with Dahyun. They just opened a coffee shop so they’ve been busy bodies with that.” smiling in pride of what her wife and best friend were doing.

“No way! After all these years of wanting to? I’m so happy to hear they’ve finally done it!” returning the sentiment back to her with excitement.

“And Dahyun is still rooming with you both, I assume?”

“Our perfect third wheel!” both of you burst into a giggle, Sana watches how close the two of you are.

You can feel her energy shift into possessive and jealous, more tense by the second as you continue on with brunch.

Nayeon reaches her hand over the table to grab yours, genuinely smiling at you as she prepares to say something.

Sana is seething next to you and you can already tell what she’s going to do about it.

“It’s truly so great to see you, I’m so happy they called a meeting here so we could get together and I could meet Sana too!” the warmth and friendship radiating off the sentence went right over Sana’s head as she laid her hand on your thigh, digging her nails right into the denim of your black jeans.

The waiter, Michael, comes back over with Nayeon’s iced americano and places it on the table.

“Do you need some more time to look over the menu? Or have any questions?” the poor boy is shaken to his core, and it’s about to get so much worse.

“What’s your favorite thing on the menu, honey?” Sana says without looking up at him.

“Oh, you know I love the ba-” you start.

“Not you.” putting her hand up to halt you, mid sentence.

“Michael.” looking up at him with those puppy dog eyes and a smile.

You swear you can physically see his knees turn to jelly.

“Uhm…well I r-really like the pancakes, ma’am.”

Rolling your eyes in disbelief, you wait for her response, making eye contact with Nayeon and communicating with her silently as all of this transpired.

“Pancakes it is then.” putting on her sweetest voice possible before handing him the menu and intentionally touching his hand.

“Wow, your hands are so strong…” caressing the top of one of them before pulling back.

“I wonder how useful those could be…”

“Sana! Enough!” the rage set in with you snapping at her, she had pushed this too far and she knows it.

“Oh, come on. It’s all in good fun, right?” kissing your cheek and then winking at him again.

“Right, Sweet heart?” referring to Michael again.

Staring at her in disbelief, your jaw tightens as you look back at Nayeon who is holding in her laughter, flushing red from the suppression.

“And no laughing out of you!” pointing to her across the table, her arms shoot up to claim her innocence.

“I’m just here to visit a friend! I swear!” chuckling through the sentence and bringing an ease to the table.

“A friend…right…” Sana seems to not believe but laughs along anyway.

Nayeon managed to cut the tension like she always did with a silly moment and for that you were grateful.

—

Over the course of this brunch, you had lovely conversations that everyone was involved in. Nayeon and Sana got along really well, despite the introduction, enjoying a lot of the same things and having lengthy conversations about many different topics.

“How long are you in town for?” Sana asked before taking a sip of her drink.

“I fly home tomorrow night, unfortunately.” sighing and knowing that the visit would be short lived.

“That’s too soon.” quipped back with a frown.

A sudden sparkle behind her eyes and the twitch of her brow shows you that she’s up to something.

“Where are you staying?” expeditiously inquired through a new tone of excitement.

“Well, this trip was very last minute so I’m hoping I can get a hotel down town by the airport. If anything, I can just sleep in the rental car and head to the airport tomorrow afternoon.”

“Nonsense! You’ll stay with us!” This surprised both you and Nayeon.

Sana offering Nayeon to stay at your home was a very big deal. You both really liked your privacy and for her to extend that invitation was...not like her.

“I wouldn’t want to impose!” Nayeon is dismissive of the thought, looking over to you for some hint that this would be okay.

Nodding to her very softly, you agree.

“I insist, Nayeon! I can’t have my wife’s best friend sleeping in discomfort when we have a perfectly good guest room for you to stay in.” Sana’s hand reaches out over the table to grab Nayeon’s, reassuring her that all was well.

“Alright, I’ll stay.”

“Great! I’ll get the check.”

The waiter must’ve been listening as he was immediately when he heard Sana wanted something. Nayeon let out a belly laugh when she saw how quickly he was present, and you rolled your eyes.

Reaching out to hold your hand, Nayeon decides to move a pawn on the gameboard.

“Y/nnie, did you ever tell Sana about what we used to do?” the flirtatious tone perks up Sana’s ears, the scowl on her face already gently forming around her squinted eyes.

“Nayeon, what are you talking about?” trying to brush off what Nayeon was hinting at so Sana wouldn’t get upset.

“What did you guys used to do?” attempting to keep cool about the new information that just dropped onto the table like an anvil.

“If Y/nnie doesn’t remember, I don’t think I should say, besides…I don’t know if you’d be too excited about hearing it anyways. Just a very fond memory to live in my mind then.”

Nayeon winks at Sana and then stands up.

“See you at your house!” swiftly walking out of the cafe.

—

The walk to the car was silent.

Only the sounds of your shoes against the concrete.

Walking around to the passenger seat, you open the door for Sana and wait for her to get inside. She’s just standing by the car and clenching her jaw, you can see the muscles flexing causing you to swallow harshly - nerves tingling as you walk around to the driver’s side door.

Sana suddenly slams the door closed without getting inside before promptly opening it again, for herself, and gets into her seat, closing the door behind her.

Blinking a few times at how petty that actually was, you slip into the drivers seat and start the car.

The first 5 minutes of driving are just as quiet as the walk to the car, Sana’s stewing in her jealousy next to you and you’re just waiting for her to say something.

Slowing down and stopping at a red light, you look at the road in front of you until you feel her eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“What did you guys used to do?” sneered at you in disgust.

“We used to smoke weed and sit on a couch, babe. A few concerts, a couple parties but nothing that warrants this reaction.” trying to reassure her that there was no threat from Nayeon.

“Sounds like there might be more. Tell me.” her stern tone rattles you to your core…causing that flash of heat under your skin that screams in desire.

“I mean we hooked up once a long long time ago. But it was one time, and it never happened again.”

“You WHAT!?”

Uh oh.

“You guys had sex?!”

“Baby, we were 18 and young. Probably drunk. It only happened one time. I didn’t think it was that important.” trying to explain but she did not want to hear it.

At. All.

“No wonders she’s so fucking affectionate with you! She probably still wants to fuck you. What the fuck, why wouldn’t you tell me this?!” through clenched teeth and she crosses her arms and shifts away from you.

“Sana, it meant nothing then and it means even less now. I love you. I want to be with you. This was a long time ago, okay?”

Silence.

“Sana.”

More silence.

“Sana!” rising in volume to get her attention.

“Okay, fine. Whatever.” waving her hand at you, the weak signal that she would be fine about this.

“Sana, Nayeon is my best friend…okay? That’s all. You are my wife. I married YOU. Not her.” reassurance making it’s way to her as you try and defuse.

“I trust you. She’s your best friend…I’ll be on my best behavior.” rolling her eyes and sighing next to you.

A fight given up a little too easily…knowing her, she was planning something else.

This was going to be a long night, wasn’t it?

—

Dinner came and went as quickly as brunch did. Spending the night lounging around the house and watching movies with Nayeon and Sana was such a good way to spend the evening - despite the argument in the car earlier.

It seems like they’re getting along very well, giggling with each other and nonstop chatting. It seems Sana is getting comfortable and actually trying to get to know your best friend.

That warms your heart more than anything. She was really willing to put her jealousy aside for you…it’s impossible to not love her more and more every single day.

Nayeon and Sana decided they wanted to watch a movie, so you let them pick while you went and got some snacks from the kitchen.

Returning to find them on the couch whispering to each other, you decided to just sit on the other side of Sana and let them press play when they were ready.

They picked a weird comedy you had never heard of, you decided to just scroll through your phone while the movie played on.

—

Around 10pm, Sana stretched and yawned, leaning into your neck and sighing into you. Toying with the end of your shirt lightly and scooting closer to you.

“You getting sleepy, my love?” leaning your cheek against her forehead and wrapping your arms around her.

All she could do was nod her head softly and nuzzle into you further.

“Why don’t you go and get ready for bed? I’ll show Nayeon where she will be sleeping and meet you in there, okay?”

“Okay. Goodnight Nayeon. Thank you for today!” standing up, giving Nayeon a hug and sluggishly making her way to the bedroom you shared and closing the door behind her.

“She’s a tough one, huh? I never thought I’d see you go for someone jealous…especially with how jealous you get!” Nayeon nudged you as you both stood up and you made your way down the hall to the guest bedroom.

“I wouldn’t say though! She’s just not used to people being touchy with me. She likes a little jealousy…and I mean, you know I like possessive. Even if this round was a little intense. I’m really happy you both got to know each other better so we can do this more often” smiling at Nayeon.

“You both are a match made in heaven. I’m really happy for you, Y/nnie. She’s lovely. Good luck later!” booping your nose lightly and turning to go into the room.

“What does tha-…You know what, I dont want to know…goodnight.” dismissively waving your hand at her while closing the door shut. Her laugh can be heard from the other side of it.

Walking back to your own room, you can’t help but wonder what that meant…good luck? with what? Maybe it was just her trying to psych you out…

Trying to be quiet as you enter, you don’t see Sana on her side of the bed, assuming she’s still in the bathroom, you strip out of the clothes you spent your day in and changed into just a large T-shirt.

The bathroom door opens up softly while you’re bringing your clothes across the room to put in the laundry basket, not bothering to look up, you toss the clothes in the vessel and turn around to crawl into your side of the bed.

That’s when you finally register what is happening in front of you.

Sana has changed into her red, lacey night gown…the one that’s completely see through…the one she knows you can’t resist.

Trying not to drool at the sight of her and how sensual she is in her movements, the way her hips sway and the way she’s looking you up and down like you’re prey to her.

Taking a few steps closer to you, she watches as you stand there in total shock - ready to drop to your knees for her.

“I think I need to remind you what it means to be my wife.” sultry, sexy tone dripping off her tongue, melting through your brain - the ache for her very present between your legs.

“I think you need a reminder of who you belong to…” the sentence lingers in your mind as she makes her way over to you slowly.

Fuck.

She’s playing hard ball with you, wanting you to submit to her immediately…and you’re tempted. It’s hard not to be when she’s like this.

Usually so soft and sweet, but when that bedroom door closes, she’s in charge and you didn’t feel like giving her that power that easily, even if you knew you’d end up sore tomorrow.

“I need to be reminded? Ha! You must not remember what you did.” flipping the script on her, crossing your arms while you wait for your reply.

The devilish smirk translucently sits across her mouth for a moment, before dissolving seamlessly into the start of something that would haunt you all night long.

The game has begun.

“What I did?!” raising her voice at you and taking a defensive stance.

“After what YOU did with your little friend! And in front of me, no less!” Scoffing and crossing her arms at the memory.

Hesitating to say anything, you try and think of a how you want to navigate this. It’s obvious how this is going to end, considering the red lace that’s barely covering her body when the idea pops into your head.

Pawn moved.

“It’s cute when you’re like this” slowly walking up to her and placing your hands on her hips and leaning into her chest, lips mere inches apart.

“Whatever.” Arms still crossed under your chests pressed together as she fights to not wrap her arms around you.

“Awh come on, my jealous baby. You know it’s only you.” Trailing a finger up her side and watching as she swallows harshly, breath hitching as she mimics your movements.

As her hands glide up your sides, the tips of her fingers graze lightly over your skin and lift the over size shirt with them - revealing what was underneath.

Nothing.

Sana lets out a short laugh when she sees your bare ass, smacking it loudly and leaning forward into you with a hand slithered up the back of your neck and through your hair.

Check.

“And who says that you’ll get what you want from me? You think being a slut for others gets you rewarded?” rebutted in a whisper with her lips brushing past yours so delicately.

Pawn moved.

Hands coasting up her back and into her hair that’s tied into a bun, you kiss up her cheek and right to her ear.

“If you won’t, I know someone who will.” another peck to her cheek.

Check. Mate.

“Someone in the next room…she’s done it before. You’ve seen her hands, right baby? Can’t you just imagine how fu-”

Sana suddenly lets go of you. Shoving you, hard, onto the bed.

“Don’t fucking move. You’re going to regret what you said but any disobedience going forward will only result in worse. Do you understand me, whore?” the mood is rage scorched, scowling down at you as you nod your head one time before she sets off to the closet.

She pulls out the box, grabs her strap - the larger one - slipping it on and tightening the sides so it fits tightly. What surprises you is when she reaches back into the box and pulls out some hard metal handcuffs you rarely ever used.

“You think you can just talk about someone else fucking you and get away with it, bitch?” walking up to you, twirling her finger around in front of her, signaling you to turn over onto your stomach.

“Hands behind you.” her stern voice is making you dizzy, unable to actually register what she’s actually saying.

“Now!”

A hard smack to your lower thighs startles you, the sting is delicious but you listen to what she says and put your hands behind your back.

The metal is cold against your wrists, wiggling to see how tight they were. There wasn’t much room to move at all.

Running your fingers against the metal to find the loose bolt that usually releases the sex cuffs, you can’t find one that rattles against your fingers.

“Awh…you thought I’d use the fake ones on you?”

Oh, shit.

Sana pulls you to the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor and torso bent over the sheets. Taking the head of the strap, she runs it up and down your slit in a very unhurried fashion.

“Look how wet you are.” slapping the end of the dildo on your clit a few times just to hear it splatter against you.

“Did you get wet like this for her too?” gliding back over your slit this time dipping between your lips and grinding against your clit.

A gasp leaves your lips at the sensation, the burst of pleasure that sent shockwaves through you.

“Answer me, slut.” she’s leaned over your back and in your ear, grinding softly against you.

Holding you down by the chain with one hand, the other slips up to your neck, holding your throat to force you to keep your head up.

“Why don’t you…fuck- ask her?” whined out between the sluggish strokes of Sana’s strap.

Immediately coming to a halt when what you said registers in her mind, she grips your throat tighter, you can feel her tensing her body.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?!” growled as she lifts herself off of you.

Rabid, feral and unhinged, Sana can’t seem to get a grip on herself. Taking the chain of the cuffs in her hand and tugging hard, she flips you over on your back. Lost in lust and rage, she grips the collar of the thin oversized shirt you were wearing and rips it clean down the middle in one harsh tug.

You’re lost in your own neediness as you start to drip onto the floor, waiting for Sana to make her move and put you in your place.

Watching as she stands before you, strap brushing up against your core while her hands are clenched into fists next to her.

You swear you can see the steam spewing from her ears and her jaw clenching. Nudging her hips forward, the sensation of the strap against you pushes you closer and closer to begging for her and you know that’s exactly what she wants.

Sana’s hand flies down and smacks your thigh, the sound is brutal but the pain is something you crave.

“I said, what the fuck did you just say?”

You’re melting, slipping into the mindset of wanting.

Wanting her.

Craving her.

“Baby” huffed out through the tension of the room.

“Please”

“Please, what?” leaning forward, her finger comes up to your collar bone and traces it down, feather light touches right over your nipple and slipping to your hips.

Her lips follow from your neck down to your nipple, brushing past her lips barely touching your skin as she descended.

“Sana, please…I need to feel you.” breathing becoming heavier as her mouth travels down to your hips, biting down when she’s low enough to cause the reaction she wants.

Bucking your hips forward, instinctual reaction from your body- her hand raises and smacks your tit. Moaning into the empty space in the room as Sana kisses her way down to your slick smeared lips.

Her breath against your pussy was enough to push you over the edge - a long carnal whine expelled in frustration at how slow she was going. Needing her to finally take you the way you knew she wanted to.

“Say. It.” maliciously whispered, eyes showing you that even if her face was stoic in this moment, there was a hunger in them.

Sana drags her tongue up your inner thigh, stopping right before you could gain any relief from the friction of her touch.

This was torture.

“Baby” a breathless attempt.

Sana inches her way back up to your mouth, leaving a trail of ever deepening teeth marks in her wake, until she’s face to face with you - noses caressing and lips teasing each other.

Tugging at the metal of the cuffs, you whimper at not being able to touch her. Wanting to pull her close to you and tempt her to break- to give in and give you want you needed from her.

Sitting in sounds of your shallowed breath, Sana smirks at you letting out a sigh.

“I can feel how wet you are, baby.” taking her hand down the the base of the strap and positioning it against your entrance.

“Dripping down my strap and knowing that you can’t touch me…Must be so agonizing for a whore like you.” taunting you through clenched teeth and a forced smile.

Gliding over your slit again, she brings her lips closer to yours, letting you lean up to her but pulling away before your lips meet.

The only thing you can think about is her ruining you. Burning sensations of the emptiness between your legs instructs you to rock your hips back and forth to try and get her to slip the tip inside you.

“What’s the safe word?” pulling out of the moment to acknowledge the boundaries.

“Red.”

As soon as the word flies out of your mouth, Sana’s hand is around your throat. Thrusting her hips forward painfully slow until she completely bottoms out inside you.

The moan you let out was music to Sana’s ears, wanting nothing more than to let the guest in your house to know who could make you like this…let them know who you belong to.

Pulling the attachment out to the tip, Sana slams back down - hard but at a slow pace.

“That’s right, honey.” hips cocking back again.

“Let her know you’re mine.” hips snapping into you creating a rhythmic slapping as she continues torturing you with the aggressively slow stake to her claim.

Lips finally meeting, you’re fighting the metal connecting your hands as you both passionately dissolve into each other.

Sana’s grip around your throat tightens as she slowly starts to pick up the pace of ramming the strap into you. Her other hand trails to pinch your nipple, giving it a flick and a few twists so you moan even louder.

Feeling all the euphoria she was presenting you with, you’re unable to stop yourself from whimpering and moaning. Any attempt at muffling them felt useless. The only sounds outside of your own moaning was Sana breathing heavier as she snapped her hips into you, was the sound of your slick against her aggressive, deep thrusts.

Sana suddenly stops, elbows on either side of you, her resting and catching her breath for a moment. Taking a second to brush the hair out of your face, she looks you in the eyes and snaps her hips into you, pressing against your cervix when she speaks.

“Does she fuck you like this, slut?” another harsh thrust.

“Unh! Fuck babyyyy- ungh” your own voice echoes off the wall and back to you.

“Can she make your pussy this fucking wet?” another rabid jolt of her hips.

The deep strokes of her inside you hit every spot imaginable, tingling building in your limbs as she keeps marking her territory with her mouth, bite marks and hickies litter your body haphazardly.

Pressure building from inside you, gasping for air when you realize how close you are to cumming.

“S-Sana! I’m gonna c-cu-”

“No.” is all she says when she pulls out of you completely and watches as you writhe and whine on the sheets.

Moaning and whining in protest as you feel the pleasure receding, Sana just smiles and watches you tear up.

“Tell me who you belong to.” tip grinding against you again, this time causing an almost out right panic in you.

“Only you! Sana, please! fuck me! I need it I need it I need it PLEASE.” tears rolling down your cheeks, inching yourself close to her.

“Sit up.”

You immediately do as your told.

Sana grabs the keys from the nightstand and unhooks your hands.

Immediately, without a second thought, you’re pulling her onto the bed and pushing her down. Her smile is huge, giggling at how desperate you are.

Sana’s hands make their way to your thighs as you fix your position on top of her, straddling her as you ease yourself down onto her.

Hands flying up to catch your waist before you can sink too far down on her, she holds you still and buck her hips up one hard time before allowing you to sit comfortably with the strap inside you.

Completely blissed out, you lean forward and lay on her chest with your face in her neck. Her soft sweet giggle can be heard in your ear.

“Is my good girl that desperate?” placing her hands on your ass and assisting you in slamming down onto her.

“I bet she couldn’t ruin you like this.” positioning her hips at just the right angle to hit your G-spot over and over again as she picks up her pace for you.

Loudly mewling out as she rails into you, the ethereal wave comes back and takes hold of you again. Slamming yourself down onto her on your own, you can only think about cumming for her.

Right as the orgasm is about to shatter through you, Sana flips you over and throws you into a mating press, thighs against your chest and starts jackhammering into you so deeply that it sets your skin on fire.

“Fuck, S-s-ana! I’m gonna c-cum! J-ust like th-that baby!”

“Tell me who you belong to, honey.” her tempo only accelerates.

“You! Only you!” turning you into a groaning mess as you come undone around her.

Vision blacking out, you practically scream as you lose your sense of self and turn into exactly what she wanted, a ruined wife.

Her ruined wife.

Every fiber of your being set on fire and you violently thrash underneath her, creating a mess on the sheets and all over your wife.

Sana is laying soft sweet pecks on your cheeks as she lets you ride out your orgasm, holding your hips still while she lightly rocks into you.

“You’re so good for me, baby.” kissing your forehead and standing up, removing the strap from inside you.

“Look at the mess you made” pointing to the lace smeared with slick.

Unable to catch your breath, you try to compose yourself to reply when she sinks to her knees between your legs.

“Let me help clean you up, honey.”

A long, wide tongued lick up your pussy has you twitching immediately, still completely sensitive and walking into overstimulated territory.

All you can say is “Fuck, baby.” as she laps at you, cleaning up the remanence of cum from your thighs and cunt.

Passing over your clit intentionally, she watches you squirm and moans into you. Hands immediately grasping at her head, trying to pull her closer.

“Is that what you want, baby?” before a rhythmic open mouth kiss engulfs your most sensitive area and turns you back into a groaning mess.

It wasn’t long before she added her fingers into your folds, slipping two in immediately and pressing them up while latched onto your clit.

Bucking your hips into her mouth, you release the loudest, guttural moan you’ve ever heard as you cum around her fingers. Barely giving you enough time to come down from your first orgasm, she expected this of you - cumming quickly for her a second time.

Feeling the droplets of sweat dropping from your forehead, you feel Sana crawl up next to you and snuggle into you. Still gasping for air, you rolled onto your side and nuzzled into her. She played with your hair until you eventually fell asleep in her arms.

—

Waking up the next day was an atrocious feeling, not enough sleep and more sore than you ever had been.

Cracking your eyes open, you realize the bed is empty and there’s laughter coming from the kitchen.

Sitting up and rolling out of bed, you stretch and wince before getting a pair of Sana’s sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt to cover yourself up.

Opening the door to the bedroom, you wipe the sleep from your eyes and meander over to where the sound was coming from, dragging your feet along the way.

Sana and Nayeon are drinking coffee together in their pajamas - Sana is wearing one of your shirts and a pair of sleep shorts, a stark difference to what she wore last night. Nayeon has on something similar.

“Well good morning to you, Y/nnie!” Nayeon blurts out before falling into a thunderous cackle.

“You look like you got beat up! I said good luck, didn’t you hear me?” continuing to laugh with Sana.

“How bad are they? I didn’t check my neck in the mirror…wait, you…you knew?!” squinting at her in judgement.

“They’re pretty bad…Sana must have a biting kink, hm? And of course I knew! The tension between the two of you can be felt light years away. Plus, you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” fighting the laughter as she winked at you.

Nayeon’s hands shoot up in innocence again.

“She’s yours, Sana. I wouldn’t dream of taking her away from you.”

Looking over at Sana, she’s got her hand over her mouth trying to stifle the giggles. She walks over to pour you some coffee.

“I think it’s more about possessive and less about biting…And what are you laughing at?! You started this!” pointing at your wife as she turns beat red.

“No I didn’t.” nonchalantly as she passes you the mug.

“Nayeon should be happy that she’s leaving tonight.” sipping the warmth and smacking your lips at the taste.

“Why is that?” curiously inquired by Im Nayeon.

Looking over at Sana, she’s embarrassed and covering her face with her hand again but for different reasons.

“I didn’t flirt with you, but Sana flirted with the waiter in front of my face like that so I’ll put it this way…I know someone who’s louder and about to get it a lot worse than I did.”

[shadyshaylee114]

Orc x reader

You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.

"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.

"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm  sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.

"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.

"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.

You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.

The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast,  people started to flood in.  As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.

"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.

"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.

"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.

"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.

"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.

"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.

As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.

"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out,  pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.

"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.

"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.

"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.

"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.

"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.

  "Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.

"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.

"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the  forest,  just outside the city walls.

"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.

"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.

"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.

"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.

  You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.

"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.

"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.

"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.

"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length.  "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."

"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out.  Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.

"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.

"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.

"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening.  He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.

"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.

"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.

"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled. 

"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."

Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest

Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you,  slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.

"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.

"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.

"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.

Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.

"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.

"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.

"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.

[heartkaji]

　 ★…𝐀𝐓𝐋4𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 ?! ❞

୨ৎ synopsis. blue lock characters but they’re hood. based on the atlanta lock ! tiktok trend.

୨ৎ includes. bachira meguru, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, otoya eita

୨ৎ notes. this has been in my drafts since july cuz ive been procrastinating, hope it’s not too late to post this 🙏

★ BACHIRA MEGURU— LIL SMOKEY

“shit, we making it out the hood with this one y’all ! run the track again—fire flame flow productions ain’t neva miss.”

you roll your eyes as bachira daps up isagi.

you’ve been here for an hour & you can feel your eardrums beginning to rot like dead peaches. bachira raps over a beat you swear you’ve heard from lucki, but he’s quick to shush you when you bring it up. you cross tired arms over your chest as the music winds up and bachira starts his verse again.

“pretty bitch, yeah she got me seein’ stars, like it when i thrust, fuck her all the way to mars,”

isagi whistles. you contemplate suicide.

“she think that i’m loyal but i switch my bitch like cars, new whip every day and no i’m not just penning bars !”

“type shit !” isagi calls. you still in your seat. what ?

your chest swells with something akin to rage. you were already exhausted, ears wilting at the boom of the bass. bachira’s been redoing the same verse for hours, but you’d never paid attention to your boyfriend’s lyrics till now. you march over to the sound panel and shut it down with closed fist.

“bachira meguru—!”

“fucking hell, woman ! the fuck did you do that for—?“

you march into the booth and slap him silly.

bachira looks back at you with mouth agape and red tinged cheeks. his face is blood drenched and you almost feel guilty but you tighten your chest & straighten your back.

“what the hell did you just say, meg ?”

“what are you on about—“

“don’t play with me right now, meg. word to my mother i’ll slap y’ left cheek too. fuck you mean you riding a new bitch every day, huh ?”

bachira groans, rubbing at his cheek. “god, those are just lyrics ! you tripping for real—“

you slap his left cheek.

“you think you’re future or something ? fucking try me meg. you’re lucky i know you don’t actually have the balls to cheat. change those lyrics. now.”

bachira mumbles something under his breath before marching to the sound station. a boyish giggle breaks the quiet, and you shoot a glare at yoichi, causing silence to envelope the room once again before bachira revs up the track.

“she know that i’m loyal cuz i treat her like a star, call me yuki chiba man, ‘watashi wa star !’ ”

★ ISAGI YOICHI — YXNG EGOIST

“yoichi, you were raised in a gated community. you do not have opps.”

isagi clicks his tongue. the sound is muffled under the wool of his thick balaclava, but you manage to make it out regardless. “you don’t understand, princess. just keep watch for me, alright ?”

“yoichi.”

you heave your third sigh of the evening. you and isagi were at a high end restaurant for a date, but suddenly you wished you were home. you’d been looking forward to having dinner with the busy striker all week, but now that you’re here together with you in a fancy dress while he sports a thick balaclava, you can’t help but feel embarassed.

“yoichi i’m literally begging you to take that off.”

isagi lifts the chin of his mask to sneak a bite of chicken with his fork. he quickly takes a sip of water before dragging the mask back over his lips, eyes darting from side to side to scope his surroundings. he breathes a relieved sigh. “i think i’m safe for now..”

“alright, i’m going home.”

“huh ? what — no, babe, i’ll take it off, come back !”

★ NAGI SEISHIRO — SUGARHILL SEI

“riddle me this, sei. how the fuck your bank account low but your ass getting high ?”

you and reo stand arms crossed over a faded nagi, his eyes blood tinged & cheeks hot & swollen. his breathing is labored as he fits the blunt to his lips to take yet another drag.

“cuh i ain’ even got time fuh dis forreal. y’all mothafuckas just be bouncin’ on my dick fo’ no reason man.”

“what the hell is he saying ?”

“i think he’s speaking ganglish ?”

“oh hell no.” reo snaps his fingers over his head, “i rebuke every spirit of hoodlum in you, bro. what the fuck nagi, is this what you’ve come to ?”

nagi rubs his forehead & for a second he bears an uncanny resemblance to travis scott. “cuh i ain’ even—“ FWAM !

reo dashes a hot slap to nagi’s cheek. the red handprint glistens against his pale skin & your palms fly to cover your gaping mouth. “reo ! that’s—that’s too far !”

“stay out of this y/n,” nagi lays limp on the room floor, his eyes rapidly blinking with his mouth agape. “this is just the beginning. if we don’t correct him now, he’ll start dressing like a carti fan before you know it !”

reo hops unto one foot, aggressively tugging a chancla off the other. he turns to nagi.

“sorry bro, i don’t wanna do this,”

“cuh—“

FWAM !

★ SHIDOU RYUSEI — MR. FREAK

“gyattttt”

“i’m breaking up with you.”

“no mami i’m sorryyy,” shidou drawls playfully, arms circling your hips. he tugs you closer to him so you’re pressed flush against his skin.

“respectfully asking you to wear these ‘forbidden tights’ more often, ma. this recoil is insane.” he makes a slurping noise and you question your existence.

“ryusei—“

“boing !” shidou chuckles to himself as he slaps your ass. the flesh is soft in his palms and he’s about to indulge his intrusive thoughts once again before you slap him with your purse.

“shidou ryusei ! in the public eye ?!”

“government name is crazyyy.”

“i’m going home.” you begin heading towards the exit with a noisy shidou calling after you, “bae come back ! it was just jokes !”

★ OTOYA EITA — LIL’ FLOCKA

“nah cuz what you know about ken carson for real though.”

you groan for the third time today. “eita it’s enough.”

“no babe i’m just sayin,” he rubs lazy circles along your hip bone, lips pressed lazily against the back of your shoulder, “since you wanna be lip syncing to unreleased ken, you must know more about him than i do, right ?”

“oh my fucking god. literally who said that ?”

“no but you implied it. look at you posting yoself singing with your big ole’ tatas.”

“eita i’m literally gonna leave you for karasu right now.”

“nah nah chill it’s just,” he swipes through your story, clicking his tongue when he notices you’ve posted yourself to yet another underground artist, this time thouxanbanfouani. he bites his inner cheek to stop himself from asking you to take your story down.

“you don’t get him like i do, you feel me ?”

“congratulations otoya. the fuck you telling me that for ?”

“take your story down.”

“we’re over.”

© ─ heartkaji ; do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload

[sodapopwrites]

the first sign of fall chapter three: it's hot when you have a meltdown

college au, the inner circle boys and the reader are bartenders, and also they play hockey in this one.

pairings - eris vanserra x reader, a teensy bit of azriel x reader

summary - all of your friends know about you and eris but refuse to speak on it. as the first hockey game of the season comes, so does the drama.

word count - 4.7k

a/n - this one is a long one...apologies. but i liveeeee for the drama and the constant lack of communication amongst these three. eris is fucking trying though.

read the rest of the series here!

You sat in Cassian and Azriel’s apartment. All of you had gathered to study, though it really seemed like you were the only one doing homework other than Amren. Mor’s book was open in front of her, but she was painting her nails that glimmering shade of red she was so fond of.  Rhys, Cass, and Az were all zeroed in on the TV watching old film reels of their last hockey game. Tomorrow was game day. The Velaris Devils vs the Autumn Court Smokehounds. You had been trying not to think about it and failing. 

“You’re a fucking idiot. What were you even trying to do with that move, Rhys?” 

Cassian pointed at the television and looked at his Rhys with a frustrated expression. Rhys shrugged and muttered something about being experimental. Mor chuckled from her seat and shot the boys a look while shaking her head. 

“You’re coming tomorrow right?” Cassian's voice was now directed at you. You shifted in your seat, chewing the end of your pen, and slowly raising your head to face all three teammates currently staring at you. Your whole friend group knew now…about Eris, but none of them mentioned anything. They all chose to stick with pointed silence. A new tactic, but it grated your nerves all the same. You took a deep breath. 

“Uhm. Yeah I guess.” 

Something soft and large hit you. You picked it up. Azriel’s jersey. Looking at him you arched a brow in question. He shrugged and just mumbled, 

“You’ve been wearing it every game since freshman year. It’s tradition.” 

Mor and Cassian exchanged glances after looking between you and Azriel. Both of them noted the small statement it made. Both of them knowing you’d wear it for traditions sake, not thinking about what it would do to Eris. Both of them knowing that what it would do to Eris, was the exact reason that Azriel offered up the idea in the first place. You nodded, tucking the shirt into your bag before flinging it over your shoulder and standing up. Rhys watched you gather your things and pick up your jacket, 

“You’re leaving?”

You nod and look around the room. At the complete lack of work being done, “I actually have work to do and you three yelling about hockey is…believe it or not…not that a productive study environment for me.” 

He shook his head, full of mock disappointment, “How can you focus on math when the first game of the season is tomorrow?” 

“Well Rhysand…Some of us are on scholarship.” 

He pursed his lips like that. No witty response coming to him now. Cassian frowned and shoved a handful of pretzels in his mouth before speaking, 

“You’re not on scholarship”

You roll your eyes at him, “You don’t know that.” 

“Yeah I do. You’re not on scholarship you’re just anal about grades.” 

You flip him off before heading towards the door. Azriel reached an arm out and caught your wrist as you passed by him. His voice was low as he asked, 

“I’ll see you at the game?” 

You offer him a small smile and nod. You’d see him at the game….you’d also see Eris at the game…playing against each other.  And that thought alone was giving you a headache. 

★ ★ ★ 

You had tucked yourself into a window booth in a coffee shop on campus. It was drizzling outside, red and yellow leaves staining the sidewalk, the streetlights had just come on. Lighting the whole road golden. This was why autumn was your favorite season. It was like he was in the very air around you, every color, every smell. You shook your head. Trying to get Eris out of your head. 

Lucien slid into the seat across from you. His hair slightly wavy and braids ran throughout it, he pushed it over his shoulder as he leaned against the table. You looked up quickly, mistaking the red hair and the tall, broad shouldered, frame for someone else. He saw it in your eyes and cocked his head with a small smirk, 

“You know how I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for like the last three years?” 

You stop tapping your pen against the wooden table beneath your arm, and stare at him blankly, waiting for him to continue, 

“Imagine my devastation upon finding out you’ve been seeing my brother for the last month.” 

You shake your head and offer him a small smile, “Lucien you have never asked me out seriously.” 

“What the hell did Eris do?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Lucien watched as you shifted in your chair, the smile spreading across your face along with a light blush. He narrowed his eyes at you, he knew exactly what Eris had done to get this whole ball rolling. He had found you at a party, tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, leaned in close, and did that stare he always did. The whole routine ended with the two of you talking for a while, laughing and trading light hearted insults, before he cocked his head towards the door and offered you a ride home. It always seemed to work for him. The fact that it had worked on you surprised Lucien a little bit. Although…It wasn’t every day that Eris offered a girl a ride home. It wasn’t everyday that Eris didn’t just hook up with a girl at the party before promptly leaving and not really talking to her again. But from the jump his brother had wanted you in his house…in his space. 

“So if I started acting like a cocky asshole would you give me a kiss too?” 

“Started?” 

Lucien clicked his tongue at your remark before pulling your coffee cup towards him and taking a sip. He nodded towards you, 

“You going to the game tomorrow?”

“Why do you care? Mr. I joined the frisbee team specifically to piss off my dad.” 

Lucien chuckled. Remembering how angry his father had been when he announced at family dinner that he had not gotten onto the hockey team like Eris, but that he instead had gone out of his way to play competitive frisbee in the park every weekend. 

“I don’t care. A certain admirer was hoping you'd be there to cheer him on…or are you two still pretending that nobody knows what’s going on between you?” 

Lucien pointed a finger, accusatory at you, with a teasing smile. You flip a page of your notebook absentmindedly. Why was it that you could never find a spot to do your homework in peace. Never. You sigh, 

“Yeah I’m going. I always go. For my friends.” 

Lucien nodded slowly, musing on the friend's comment, “Right. Because that’s not going to get messy.” 

“What are you implying?” 

“Are you going to pretend that the tension with Azriel and Eris isn’t going to be fucking palpable to anyone with half a braincell?” 

You ignored that comment. Choosing to zero in on your homework once more. Your eyes switched between your notes and the notes Eris had given you. There were perks to him being a year older than you, he had class note’s for most of the classes you happened to be taking this year. Lucien gave you a quick once over, before pulling a book out of his back pocket and leaning back in his chair. Deciding to sit with you for a little while. 

As the silence stretched on, the music of the cafe humming softly in the background, the scratch of your pen against paper insistent. Lucien found himself studying you. Your deliberate avoidance of anything in the past with your so-called friend. He couldn’t stop himself from being nosy. 

“Do you guys never talk about what happened two years ago?” 

Your eyes snapped to him. Alarmed. No you did not talk about it. 

Two years ago. When something in your dynamic with Azriel shifted…forever. 

You were upset. You had gotten too drunk and like always he seemed to be there. The first person to find you when you were upset. The only person who’s comfort ever seemed to actually matter. His quiet solace, exactly what you wanted when you were inebriated and distressed. You remembered the way you leaned into his hug. The way you looked up at him and without thinking kissed him full force. The way he responded immediately. The way he had pulled you into his room….

The way the next morning you had dressed as quietly as you could and snuck out before he could wake up. The way the two of you never talked about it. Both of you hoping the other was too drunk to really remember what actually happened. Your friendship went on like nothing was different. All your friends knew. No one talked about it. 

Your voice was clipped when you responded, “No we don’t.” 

Lucien let it drop. Deciding maybe it was better not to push it. Maybe it was better to let it stay forgotten. 

★ ★ ★ 

Eris had one hand against the counter. Leaning on it as he pushed a wooden spoon around in a pot. You watch from your stool. Your eyes rake over him, hair mussed and his sweater a little baggy, a thread at the cuff of his sleeve coming loose. 

“Are you sure you can cook?” 

He didn’t turn to look at you, his focus entirely on the stove in front of him, “Why do you have no faith in me?” 

You chuckle quietly, “I have faith…in most aspects of you.” 

He started to plate whatever it is that he had made, still using his body to block it from your sightline. Finally he turned around and placed a bowl in front of you, moving to sit next to you at the kitchen island, 

“Pasta is kind of hard to mess up.” He stated before kissing your temple and pointedly looking at your food, waiting for you to try it. You took a bite and nodded slowly, making a mockingly concerned face as you did. He raised his hands in defense, 

“Okay it is not that bad, come on.” You giggled and shook your head, giving in, admitting it was good silently. He nodded his victory and nudged your elbow with his own. You ate in silence for a couple minutes. Taking in each other's company. Every now and then his hand would trace down your back, or through your hair, the small touches an ever present comfort. His apartment littered with your things. Your books on the coffee table in the living room. Your toothbrush in a cup on his bathroom sink. 

He brushed your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear, so he could see your face. 

“You coming to the game tomorrow?” 

You pause before nodding slowly. A small smile grew across his fox like features, 

“So..You gonna sit on the smoke hounds side?” 

“You know…I have made prior seating arrangements.” 

He nodded slowly. You were going to sit on the Velaris side. Of course you were. That’s your school and your friends played for the team. Of course you were. He didn’t know why he hoped that you would sit and support him. Didn’t know why he thought you’d choose him over your friends. Maybe because you were sitting in his kitchen tonight instead of going out with Mor and Cassian. Maybe it was because you had been sleeping in his bed for the last couple weeks, seemingly unable to sleep comfortably without him. 

You studied his face. Watched as the disappointment hit him and he quickly covered it with a slight nod and a raise of his eyebrows, looking back at his dinner. You take a deep breath, 

“But…I’ll be rooting for you” You lean to kiss him, “And I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards.” 

He grinned at the idea that you thought he would win. That he’d beat your friends. But then he thought about your statement. I’ll be here to celebrate your win afterwards. Here. In his apartment. His brows furrowed, 

“Why don’t we ever go out?” 

“What like a date?” 

He nodded as if it was obvious. You smile and a crease in your brows start to furrow. 

“Eris you don’t date anyone.” 

“I date.” His tone was defensive and he straightened his shoulders to better look at you. 

“Eris. You allow girls to accompany you to parties. You don’t date.” 

He thought about the two of you. In the last couple weeks. What are we doing then? He wondered to himself. What was this if not dating? Why did you think he made himself so available to you? Why did you think he managed to find you throughout the day without even asking, caring enough to know your favorite spots and your schedule. Why did you think that he spoke to you so gently and craved your touch so constantly. Why did you think that he wanted you to sleep in his bed and nothing else, if not because he liked you. He sucked in a breath. Steeling his nerves. 

“Well, if I win…You owe me a date. A real one. You have to let me take you to the bar with the team.” He took your hand in his as he looked at you, “To celebrate.” 

A slow smile creeped across your face. He wanted you to go out with him. With his friends. You nod. A silent acceptance. Swallowing the guilt in your throat as you did so. The guilt that you had to show up tomorrow in a jersey that wasn’t his. Sit on a side that wasn’t his. But you had to support your friends. There had to be a way to do both.  

★ ★ ★ 

You slide into the arena with no notice. Pulling your jacket tight around you. Your eyes searching for a familiar face. None were in sight. Mor wasn’t here yet. You thought about going into the stands and taking your seat, but instead opted to hurry down the hall towards the locker rooms. The smoke hounds were leaving their locker room as you passed. A couple of the Vanserra brothers eyed you, one of them shooting a high pitched whistle your way and yelling, 

“Your boyfriends in there.” 

You roll your eyes and keep walking, quickly, and duck past the door. Letting it slam closed behind you. Eris was sitting on a bench. Not yet dressed, a towel slung across his hips. 

“Shouldn’t you be with the team for warm ups?” He raised his head at the sound of your voice, standing up to take a couple strides towards you. His arms came up to cage you against a locker and an annoyingly smug smile graced his face. 

“I was waiting to see if you might come to wish me luck.” His hand came down to slowly pull off your jacket and his eyes fell to the name across your shirt. SHADOWSINGER. His brows furrowed and he stared silently at it. 

“It’s not…I wear it the first game of every season…like tradition or something.” You tried to explain. Thinking he might understand the athlete rituals or whatever they were. The good luck charms. He pursed his lips and chose not to say anything. Instead his fingers toyed with the bottom of the jersey and he slowly pulled it off of you, before capturing your lips with his. You let your fingers slide up his arms, across his bare shoulders, and into the hair at the nape of his neck, as he lifted your legs to wrap around his waist. 

★ ★ ★ 

Mor studies the way you shift slightly in your seat, like you just can’t quite get comfortable. Amren sits next to you, not paying attention to the game at all, eyes glued to whatever complicated book in a foreign language she had started. Mor watches as you run your fingers through your hair, as if paranoid that it looks a mess. It doesn’t. Her eyes narrow as she watches the way you track Eris Vanserra move across the ice. 

“So are we ever going to talk about it?” 

“Talk about what Mor?” 

“You and Eris Vanserra.” 

You sigh, eyes not leaving the game playing out in front of you, “What do you want to say?” 

“Are you sure that it’s a good idea?” 

“Yeah I think I am.” 

She continues staring at you until you finally slump your shoulders and turn to her. You look her up and down, take in her crossed arms and her doubt laced expression. 

“Mor he’s…he’s sweet to me.” 

“Eris Vanserra doesn’t date people though. He fucks around and doesn’t care about the consequences.” 

“This is different. He wants-” 

She raised a hand to cut you off, “What does he want? What exactly is it that he told you he wants?” 

“Morrigan just leave it. She trusts him and there’s nothing we can do.” Amren mumbled from beside you, drawing your attention. 

You scowl at her tone, bored and slightly disbelieving her own words, and turn away from her. Your eyes falling to where he stands on the ice. Those russet eyes meeting yours with a wink before he takes off down the rink. You turn back to her with a small smile, 

“He wants me. Like really wants me and makes that clear. Not everyone does that.” You give her a pointed look as you say it. A look that told her to drop it. A look that said don’t bring up anyone else. I know who you want to compare him to, don’t. She holds your stare and relents. Uncrossing her arms and nodding. Maybe you were right. He did seem to follow you around like a puppy, as if no one else could see the way he trailed a couple feet behind you at parties, or the way he left minutes after you did. She offers you a small smile, laced with a little concern, but warm nonetheless.

You both whip your heads back towards the ice at the sound of a crash. A collision. Shouts echoed through the arena, a mix of booing, heckling, and cheering on the brawl now taking place on the ice. Your eyes scan the fight, trying desperately to see who it is, but you already know. Before you can even see the names on the backs of the jerseys you already know exactly who’s locked horns. 

★ ★ ★ 

Azriel saw him out of the corner of his eye, before the impact came. Knew it was going to happen, but didn’t have time to brace himself for it. Eris Vanserra blocked his pass to Cassian by slamming his entire body weight into him. Azriel hit the ground with a thud and a rattle of hockey sticks. His helmet damn near cracking ice with the sheer force of the fall. Eris standing above him a smirk playing on his lips, the auburn hair pressed to his forehead with sweat, his shoulders rising in a half hearted shrug as he started to skate away. 

Azriel scrambled to his feet, whipping his helmet off and shouting, “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?” 

Eris turned towards him now, pausing his retreat to purse his lips as if he was thinking and shrugging once more, “I don’t have a problem man. Just doing my job.” 

Azriel wanted to punch the smirk off his face. He squared his shoulders, trying to regulate his breathing, trying to stop himself from launching at the opposing team’s player. He didn’t miss the way Eris’ eyes flitted towards the stands. Azriel looked over his shoulder, to where you and Mor were sitting, the conversation you were having seemed a little heated. Your back turned just enough to see his name splayed across your shirt. His eyebrows raised in understanding and he let out a low laugh, just loud enough for Eris to hear, 

“Oh…You're mad that your girls got my name across her back.” 

Eris’ jaw set. His eyes steeled. A flash of anger, before that swaggering indifference came back and he pulled off his helmet, “You know I was mad about it. But uh..I’m not too upset anymore.

Azriel skated a little towards him as he whispered, “And why is that?” He was baiting him. Azriel knew that. He knew that he shouldn’t ask, knew that the answer to it would only fuel his anger. 

“Well, when I fucked her in that jersey, minutes before the game started…your name was the last thing she was thinking about.” 

The grin on Eris’ face was that last thing Azriel saw before he snapped. Launching himself towards Vanserra, his fist hitting the side of the man's face, both of them falling to the ground. He could have sworn he heard Eris laugh as his fist hit home again. Drawing blood. Both men tustling on the ground, fists flying, the crowd roaring. Eris topped him easily, almost too easily, like Azriel didn’t want to win. But he didn’t care as long as he got to punch the raven haired man underneath him until he was bruised and bloody. 

Cassian rushed towards his friend. Cursing under his breath as he threw himself into the brawl, pulling Azriel from under Eris and restraining him. Rhys at his side, holding Azriel’s other arm. The three players looked at Eris, still grinning, blood dripping from his hairline, and his mouth. He shakes his sweat drenched hair, tongue wagging as he watched Azriel get pulled away by his friends. 

Both of them were taken out of the game. Benched for the remainder. 

★ ★ ★ 

You raced down the hallway towards the locker rooms as soon as the game was over. Not sure entirely who you wanted to check on first. Mor was close at your heels. Amren had excused herself to drive to the bar stating that she needed a drink before she could deal with any drama. 

When you rounded the corner you were met with Eris and Azriel, already at each other's throats. Cassian standing a couple feet away, waiting for it to get bad enough to intervene. Azriel snarling something that you couldn’t quite make out and Eris meeting it with some lazy insult and a smug smirk. You took in his appearance, his blood stained hair and his busted lip, concern shot like lightning through your bloodstream. You shot your words at the eldest Vanserra first, 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He turned towards you, as did Azriel. 

“With me? He hit me first?” 

“And then you pummeled him into the fucking ground and got yourself hurt in the fucking process!” 

Azriel had moved slightly to stand behind you. Eris took in the sight. You fuming with frustration and Azriel towering behind you like some sort of guard dog. He scoffed and spat a mouthful of blood into the ground, 

“Typical.” He shook his head before turning away. He started to walk towards the locker room, before pausing and looking over his shoulder, “Can you really not see what he’s doing? What giving you that fucking shirt was supposed to do? You think he didn’t do that on purpose? To spread some seed of doubt? To make you choose, knowing damn well you’d choose your friend. Are you that blind?” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Eris nodded shortly before letting out a humorless, breathy laugh, and pushing through the locker room door with one final comment, “I can’t do this. I’m done.” 

“What does that mean?” You called after him. But the door closed behind him and he didn’t bother responding. You stared at the closed door as if he might come back out, as if he might change his mind. Hoping that he would. Hoping he didn’t mean it. A minute went by….and nothing. 

You rounded on Azriel now,

“Is that true?” You crossed your arms over your chest, “Did you do that on purpose?” 

He shrugged, not meeting your eyes, “I don’t know what youre talking about.” 

Your eyes widened and you sucked your teeth in annoyance, “You don't?” 

Every single time you liked someone. Every single time someone liked you. Something went wrong. Your friends managed to convince you they weren’t good enough, or scare them away if that didn’t work. Every single conversation about what you deserved, the way their eyes would flit to Azriel. 

He stood silent in front of you. His expression stony and unyielding, so you continued,

“Why did you want me to wear this then?” You fisted the shirt wrapped around you. Brandishing it towards him to the best of your ability. He frowned and looked you up and down. 

You looked good. Angry, hair falling in front of your face. Stance defensive like you were ready for a fight yourself. Your eyes glittering as tears seemed to prick them incessantly. You looked good. It was all he could think as your question rang through his ears. He tried to think of a response. Something that would sound good, something that would release him of guilt, but he couldn’t. 

“You look good.”

His answer was short, and blunt, and lacking the tells of any lie. You laughed now. Tears threatening to spill. You shook your head quickly. Sniffling, trying to staunch the tears. 

“Well…you did what you do best. You ruined another fucking thing for me. Are you proud?” 

No response. 

“Are you happy now?” 

You couldn’t hold it in anymore. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You held your expression still. Letting them fall silently. Refusing to sob. Refusing to give him the satisfaction. Refusing to let him step towards you to wrap you in a hug and release himself of any responsibility with the excuse of comfort. 

He took an uneasy step towards you, reaching out for you. Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel stopped in his tracks. Recognizing the sound as a warning. He sighed and let his arm fall back to his side. 

“I’m sorry” It was all he could think to say. He didn’t feel sorry. He knew he should but he couldn't muster up the feeling. He knew exactly what he was doing. Knew that the jersey would make a problem, knew that Eris would pick a fight. Knew that your concern would fester into an anger and cause you to lash out, it always did. 

You looked at him, incredulous, mouth agape, “You’re sorry?” 

Your tone made him straighten, bristle even. ���He wasn’t right for you. If this was all it took to shake him.” 

“And who is right for me?” You were seething. Your words dripping with venom, stained with tears, “You?” 

You?

It hit Azriel hard. Cassian took a step towards the pair of you before Mor’s hand fell to his arm, halting his movement. Slightly shaking her head as if saying they need to have it out. 

“Well you didn’t seem to think so.” Azriel’s voice was cool and quiet. Like the first fall of snow before the storm. 

“What exactly do you mean by that?” 

You knew exactly what he meant. That he was referencing that night two years ago. The way you had left before the sun rose. The way you had never spoken about it again. The way you had let it simmer all these years.

And then the storm hit. Icy and raging. His voice dark like he’d never even known that the sun could shine. 

“You left…You want to talk about ruining things? Then tell me why.” 

You stared at each other. A silent battle of will. Mor and Cassian standing tense from their position a few feet away. Waiting for you to strike back. Waiting for some ending statement. Some final hurt laced come back. But nothing came, and the teams started to stream out of the locker rooms. Breaking the rigid silence. 

You turned away from your friends. I can't, I'm done. You weren’t going to let that be the end. You pushed your way through the Autumn Court team exiting the locker room. 

Azriel watched you go. His heart pounding. Bringing up that night two years ago was a bad idea. He shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn't have pushed it. It did more harm than good. He felt Cassian’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from the hallway. His silence speaking volumes. When Cassian couldn’t find anything to say, Azriel knew he really fucked it. Not even Mor would look at him as she walked away, probably going to join Amren. 

taglist :

@tiredsleepyhead @rosewood-cafe @kristijenner19 @becstersworld @girlwhoreadseverywhere @iambored24601

@the-sylver-dragon @scarsandallaz @fairydustblossom 

@theflowerswillbloom 

@theflowerswillbloom @melsunshine @mad-katsuki @lilylilyyyyy @blueeeeeshark

[littlexdeaths]

stage tech eddie munson x actress reader

warnings: modern!college au, lots of making out

y’all can blame this brain rot i’m currently having on a conversation i had with @rebelfell about techie eddie that ended up spawning all of this… thanks sarah for indulging me xx. 😘

also big kisses to @taintandviolent and @uglypastels for giving this a look over for me <3

“hey— sweetheart. you’re gonna miss your cue.”

eddie all but mumbles against your lips as you pull him in even closer, your bodies wedged between the heavy stage curtains.

“don’t care,” you reply almost breathlessly, allowing your lips to trail over his neck.

you are no longer interested in listening for the inevitable call of ‘veronica?’ to leave barb’s microphone. the music begins to swell just as you are supposed to rush out on stage to finish off the opening number.

while robin was initially supposed to help you with your quick change, when you rushed off stage you were surprised (and delighted) to find eddie in her place instead. the male gave you a cheeky grin as he had your blazer and skirt combo draped over his arm.

but the way his eyes continued to linger a little too long on your half naked figure once you slipped your costume up over your head— would only spell out trouble for both of you.

which was how you ended up half-dressed, blue blazer dangling off your shoulder and your lips smashed against his own. his hands tug you inevitably closer, rings digging into the meat of your hips while he effectively steals the air from your lungs.

your fingers grip tightly onto the cotton of his black t-shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his chest beneath the worn fabric. your lips eagerly drag across the thick skin of his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto the pale skin there.

this had been building for weeks— it had all started when eddie had offered to help you with your scene work. the male almost too eager to have you in his lap, grinding on him while you belted out the lyrics to dead girl walking.

but he’d had his eye on you from the moment you walked into that first rehearsal, all bright eyed and giddy. the more he saw you blossom under the glow of the stage lights, the more he wanted to call you his. little did he know that you felt the same way, despite your initial reservations.

the cast and crew should never mix— that’s what you were always told.

however your eyes would always seek out his lanky figure in the light booth during rehearsals. and you’d ‘accidentally’ leave your prop package of red vines out for him to steal, just to have an excuse to go up to booth to see him. only for him to hold them hostage above your head, dimples on full display as you fought to get them back.

but when you had to kiss your on stage JD— all you could think about how much better his lips would feel slotted against yours. and eddie can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him after you receive some feedback that the passion between you and jonathan was less than stellar.

but that low burning jealousy would rear it’s ugly head when you steadily began to improve.

wanton hands would paw at each other hungrily, those once dull kisses becoming increasingly more passionate with each rehearsal. and that blissful expression that flitted over your features while you gazed into the warmth of jonathan’s eyes has eddie crumbling the pages of his script beneath his fists.

but if this sudden improvement was because you were picturing eddie during your scenes together, no one was the wiser.

the mutual pining between you was palpable and downright maddening, to everyone involved in the production. so if some of them began to scheme a little behind the scenes to bring you two together, neither of you were aware of this recent development.

but everything finally come to a head with the culmination of what your cast mates so lovingly called, hell week. with the stress of opening night looming over your head, and the ever mounting tension between you two— it didn’t take much for your remaining resolve to crumble.

so when he gave you that look, all bets were off.

when eddie desperately tugs your mouth back to his, any worries that you shouldn’t be getting involved with one of your crew members is thrown out the window with each heated press of his lips. you can taste the lingering cigarette on his tongue and you’re engulfed in the musky, spicy scent that is so distinctly eddie when he reaches up to cup your cheek in his palm.

you are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice when the music stops abruptly and the burst of confused chatter erupts on the stage. eddie just pulls you in closer, eagerly swallowing the small whine that leaves your lips. the two of you only manage to pull apart when you hear nancy’s annoyed voice ringing out from behind the curtains.

“where the hell is veronica?”

you are a flurry of limbs and fabric as you struggle to pull on the rest of your costume, eddie’s rings accidentally getting caught in your hair during the process. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead in a silent apology before pushing you toward the bright lights of the stage.

you subtly wipe the gloss that was smeared across the corner of your mouth when you rush back out from behind the curtains. unaware that your blazer was buttoned incorrectly in your haste to finish dressing.

“sorry! costume malfunction! can we run it from the bridge?” you ask innocently.

nancy gives you a disapproving look from her stage manager’s seat, flipping the pages of her script back with a raised brow. you’re just thankful the director wasn’t here for this run through— or you’d have your ass chewed out for missing your big entrance.

“alright from the top of the bridge people, places!” she calls.

everyone utters a ‘thank you places’, while you duck back behind the curtain to get into position.

you can feel how flushed you are, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. whether that was from the way his lips were pressed against your own or the melting warmth of the stage lights, was hard to say. but you manage to catch his eye as he makes his way past you and the male can’t help but grin despite himself.

“don’t miss that cue again, sweet thing.” he teases, giving your ass a little pat before continuing on his way back towards the light booth.

[grillthegridmydear]

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　Love You Like A Love Song - Part One :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

F1 Grid X Reader

The grid reacts to a love song you wrote about them.

Part Two

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Max Verstappen

✧Wildest Dreams - Taylor Swift

Max was almost always found on the race track, if not in real life then in the simulator with team redline or just solo streaming. It was his comfort zone, what he knew best. Stepping out of that comfort usually had Max counting down the seconds until it was over and he could go back home to you and the cats, but today was different seeing as he had followed you to the studio on this particular winter morning. You were so secretive on the jet ride to London, furiously scribbling in your leather notebook that was falling apart from being under constant strain of ripped out pages, daily use and the odd time that Sassy got her claws on it when it was left out in odd spaces in their home.

"Tell me again why I had to be here today if I am not allowed to hear the new songs yet?" he mumbled with a cheeky grin as he followed you through the door out of the cold and rainy weather, the recording studio was warm at least. Elliot, your producer, got there before them and had boosted the heat in the building to knock the chill out of your bones before what promised to be a long day in front of the mic. "Because we only have one more song to record Maxie, and I want to know what you think of it." You never really meant to be secretive about your music but the nerves of releasing this particular album were leagues higher than in the past since it was your first studio album since you and Max had started dating a year ago.

You met on night two of the European leg of your last tour, Victoria was a big fan of your music and had dragged Tom and Max to your Amsterdam show. His only exposure to you prior to that night had been through the walls of his sisters home when he came to see his nephews but seeing you on stage that night was the nail in the coffin on his single life. Being the world famous racing driver that he was gave him the chance to meet you after the show and the rest was history.

Which led him to where he was today, sitting on the ridiculously comfortable couch behind the production table watching you working on the final piece of the puzzle that would make up your newest record.

"Alright, lets get playback and do a first run through." Elliot prompted you through the microphone that fed his voice through the soundproof booth into your headset. One nod of acknowledgement from you and the playback started, Max could hear the live feed through the speakers for the first time and the drum beat caused him to sit forward with his full attention.

The last thing he was expecting was the lyrics that came out through those speakers,

He's so tall and handsome as hell

He's so bad, but he does it so well

You had always joked about him being your muse since the week you started dating, when you would be on dates and he would see you stop dead in your tracks to pull out that notebook.

Say you'll remember me

Standing in a nice dress

Staring at the sunset, babe

Red lips and rosy cheeks

Say you'll see me again

Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

He felt the flush in his cheeks and the grin rise on his cheeks before he even had the chance to fully process what was happening. The song you were most excited to show him that you couldn't even wait until the album was finished, it was about him.

After the initial recording session Elliot busied himself with the hundreds of buttons, sliders and dials on the panel in front of him, you crouched to get your water bottle, ready to go again if needed but Max, he couldn't take his eyes off of you even if he tried. When the ok was given from Elliot you crept out from behind the door of the booth with a shy smile on your face as you made your way to stand in front of him, awaiting the reaction of the love of your life.

"so what do you think?"

Max could barely get the words out between the kisses he was peppering all over your face and neck.

"Vic is going to be so jealous I got a song."

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

✧Lando Norris

✧Nonsense - Sabrina Carpenter

Your Vegas show was strategically planned to fall the day before Lando had to be stuck in the paddock all weekend for the first Las Vegas Grand Prix, which led to many of the drivers and their girlfriends to fill up the VIP section of the theatre that housed hundred of excited fans waiting excitedly to see you take the stage.

You and Lando had known each other for years, being in the same year in school up until your GCSE's when he had left to focus on racing and you had moved from England to the states to pursue your music career. You were childhood sweethearts that stood the test of time and the long distance to end up where you are today, both living in Monaco during the off season with you accompanying Lando to each and every race in the last year, spending all your spare time in one of two places, the studio or cuddled up in Lando's arms in the privacy of your apartment. But with your first full studio album skyrocketing you through the charts a world tour soon followed and it had been a few weeks since your schedules had synced up enough to allow you both some real time to spend together. Lando had never been so thankful to have the racing season coming to a close in a few weeks, and with your last 5 shows coming in the following days to wrap up the tour he was ecstatic to have you all to himself for winter break.

His conversation with Oscar and Lily was cut short when the familiar piano notes of 'Emails I Can't Send' ring out through the venue and the screams and cheers of everyone in the room make a dumb grin break out on his face. Your figure appearing on the stage in your iconic tour outfit that Lando was obsessed with, but what made his smile bigger was the slight changes in the style of the outfit that graced your body on the stage, your dress that was usually a hot pink or lavender colour was changed to the oh so familiar papaya colour he knew as his team colours and your white boots had the number 4 emblazoned on them in his iconic neon yellow branding on the chunky heel stem.

The night was electric as he watched you up there, giving the crowd what he would say is the night of their lives as song after hit song was performed with your infectious talent and energy.

Right as the final notes of 'Sue Me' rang out to the crowd he expected the show to end as he knew the set list by heart from being to a few shows at the beginning of the tour, but you weren't leaving the stage and as you started speaking to the crowd his fixed gaze that had been watching you the whole night was broken as he heard the hushed conversation of some of the WAGs that were surrounding him, he barely had time to notice that Alexandra, Lily and Rebecca were looking at him with shit eating grins on their faces and Carlos was recording him on his phone before you stole his attention again.

"So guys, my boyfriend is actually in the crowd tonight." was all you managed to say before the fans cheered, hundreds of faces looking right at him as you let out that beautiful laugh he loves so much before continuing. "Lando is racing in Vegas this weekend and I've been on tour so I haven't been able to see him in like, forever. But the cool thing about that is he hasn't been able to hear this next song, same as you guys."

An unfamiliar melody started to loop through the venue as the cheers of fans kicked up once again. Pure confusion spread across his face as you continued to introduce the new song. "So this is my new single on the deluxe edition of the album and I hope you all enjoy it."

The room was electric as you began to sing, and Lando very quickly realised the reason why everyone of the drivers and their partners surrounding him had the same reaction, because Lando was not expecting to have a song about him drop that very night, but god was he glad it was.

I'll be honest

Lookin' at you got me thinkin' nonsense

Cartwheels in my stomach when you walk in

And when you got your arms around me

Ooh, it feels so good I had to jump the octave

His face felt like it was on fire but his ego was growing by the second.

I'm talkin' all around clock

I'm talkin' hope nobody knocks

I'm talkin' opposite of soft

I'm talkin' wild, wild thoughts

You gotta keep up with me

I got some young energy

I caught the L-O-V-E

How do you do this to me?

The song began to end and the last lines of the outro had Lando impossibly excited for the night to end so he finally got to have you to himself again.

he loves me so good its downright heinous

this songs P1 in my boyfriends playlist

what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas

Oh yeah, he was definitely glad he got you all to himself.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Oscar Piastri

✧Human - Dodie

University had been consuming what felt like your entire existence, barely having enough time or energy to apply to anything that didn't involve coursework, especially since you had your contemporary song writing final project due in a few days. Life had consisted of spending days locked away in your dorm room in front of your travel keyboard trying to construct a melody that felt lightyears away from you.

"You can't keep rotting away in there you know, I don't think we will get our deposit back if you melt into the carpet."

Hattie had been your best friend from the day you started preschool, your entire lives had been spend joined at the hip, you were unable to be separated in your younger years, down to the first days of school every year which were spent in the Piastri home's kitchen eating a breakfast that Nicole had made while you and Hattie chattered so loud that the whole house was brought to life with your laughter. Your tight bond had extended to today, where you both sat in the shared kitchen of your university housing, cups of tea decorating the table along with a pair of laptops and more sheet music blank than filled.

This had easily become the hardest assignment of your degree for you, where Hattie seemingly had no issue and was just finishing the arrangements of her own work before she got to submit her assignment and go home for summer break, you on the other hand felt like smacking your head against the wall, your fractured concentration being split even further by the commentary coming from your phone that was propped up in front of 6 crumpled pieces of composition paper, the Spanish Grand Prix well underway on the other side of the world, where Hattie's brother (who just so happened to be your boyfriend) was in the final laps of his race weekend.

"I know, I cant for the life of me figure out what's wrong. Nothing I've written feels good enough and I really don't want to fail this assignment. The last thing I need is to be back here in three months to repeat this class."

The voices that seeped from your phone announced that with that final lap the race was over and glancing at the chart that took up the left side of the screen a smile broke out on your face. Hattie let her curiosity get the better of her as she rounded the table to watch over your shoulder. "P2, He will be happy with that."

Your whole body itched for a change of scenery after a further 30 minutes with no progress so while Hattie started on dinner for you both you slipped on a jacket and stuffed your notebook into your pocket, heading outside for some fresh air. The weather had cooled only slightly compared to the usual stifling Australian heat which allowed you to sit under the awning of the bike sheds outside the building. Your phone rings not 2 minutes after you settle into a comfortable position, a the familiar contact flashing on the screen as you swipe to answer.

"Congratulations on your podium, Osc." Your words rang out through the empty courtyard as familiar breathing was heard in your ear, the boy you had loved since your childhood clearly having settled in his drivers room after his race. "Thank you, how is your assignment going? Still giving you trouble?" Your audible groan at the mention of the demonic workload hanging over your week was met with warm laughter on the other end of the phone. "That bad huh?"

"I don't know why but I haven't been able to focus enough to even get a melody going, everything I've tried sounds like it was written by The Wiggles." The snort of laughter that rang through her ears eased the stress that held her body hostage by the second and her own laughter broke out to match. "Hey, everyone loves The Wiggles, I think you would make a very cute Wiggle personally."

Oscar's words had her breaking up laughing this time. "Yeah, you would say that." Her voice taunted him over the line, memories flooding her mind of the ridiculous stories that Nicole had told her when she and Oscar had first gotten together when he came back after graduating from his British boarding school, about Oscar being five years old and in love with the Yellow Wiggle at that stage in his life. "I know you can make something amazing, everything you write is so incredible but you need to be kinder to yourself love, you're only human after all."

Oscar's advice rang through her mind as she ended the call with him, his presence being required to go to his post race debrief before he could go to the airport to fly back home to start the summer break with her. Before she could blink the floodgates in her mind finally let loose the creativity that she had been craving since she began the writing process a week ago. Sprinting up the stairs she had just enough time to grab the bowl of spaghetti Hattie had prepared her with a rushed thank you thrown over her shoulder.

An hour and a half later she finally submitted the dreaded assignment and packed her microphone away with the rest of her minimal recording equipment, quickly attaching the audio file to a text and sending it to Oscar before the night caught up with her and she drifted off to sleep in the navy blue OP81 hoodie that she wore to death.

The next morning was hectic, full of packing and cleaning as both girls got ready to pack up Hattie's car and get on the road, with the semester finally over and the promise of a few weeks on the road with Oscar melting the last of her stress. In the chaos of the morning she didn't get to check her messages until noon, where she was met with two texts, one from Logan and one from Oscar.

Oscars message was opened first, a quick 'I knew you could do it <3' sent in the middle of the night, considering the time difference it must have been when he was getting on his flight. The message from Logan showed a video of Oscar sitting on the plane, her voice playing through the speakers of Oscars phone as he stared at it with pure adoration in his eyes.

I want to give you your grin So tell me you can't bear a room that I'm not in Paint me in trust I'll be your best friend Call me the one This night just can't end Oh Oh, I'm so human We're just human

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

George Russell

✧Bewitched - Laufey

"Remind me why I'm doing this again, this feels like something that I shouldn't be allowed to do."

The ball of stress that stood in front of George pacing in a midnight blue evening gown would have been the funniest thing in the world to him if he was looking at anyone in the world other than you, his beautiful girlfriend who looked about 3 seconds away from passing out. This seemed like an appropriate time as any for you to suddenly develop stage fright, because you were used to busking on the streets of London with your guitar in your teenage years, eventually moving up to small, intimate gigs in your early 20s to crowds that seemed smaller than a classroom, this was in a whole different ballpark. George met you when you both attended a charity event three years before that was funding for sick children across the UK, part of what drew him to you was your unwavering confidence that you walked through life with, he supposed that musicians had to be born with a certain level of audacity but you were unlike anyone he had ever met before, which is why your anxious behaviour was such a shock to the system.

It eventually became too much for George to take as he stood from his seat in the dressing room and held you firm by the hips, halting you from burning a permanent line in the ridiculously expensive carpet that lined the floors. That seemed to do the trick as you finally managed to take a deep enough breath to ease the tension in your body long enough to look him in the eyes. "What if it's shit Georgie?"

Your statement pulled a chuckle from him before he he could think to stop it. "Impossible love, you've never been shit at anything you've ever done." His reassurance sent a visible comfort through your body as the rest of your muscles relaxed. "Except for padel, you are brutal at padel." George took the laugh that lit up the room as a good sign, god he loved your laugh, he once described it as reminding him of sleigh bells at Christmas which got a good laugh out of Lando and Alex, they still hadn't let him live it down, not that he minded much.

The knock at the door sent your body rigid once more as the stage hand that had been sent for you poked his head around the door to give you a 5 minute warning until you took to the stage. It was unlike anything you had ever done before, George supposed that being invited to perform at one of the most prestigious concert halls in the UK was daunting to begin with, but being asked to perform at their anniversary celebration that was being attended by what seemed like every important person they could think of, royalty included, well George was impressed that this was the extent of your nerves. A big deal indeed.

"You'll be watching me the whole time?"

Your request was endearing if unnecessary, because there were very few moments in his life now that George was not totally enraptured by you, he had been the muse of many memes in his time but his favourite had to be all the times that journalists and fans alike had compiled evidence of the many times that George was probably supposed to be paying attention to something, a meeting, a conversation, but his eyes never left you. "I'll be in the wings the entire time my love, now go, break a leg."

Heavy velvet curtains hid him from sight as the lights faded on to reveal you, centre stage and framed by a beautiful orchestra. The polite applause was so different from the screams of fans that he was used to hearing on a race weekend, but it set the tone as the orchestra began to play, now George was familiar with pretty much every song you had ever written due to how often your voice could be heard through your shared home, but this song was completely new, you had kept it under lock and key deeming it a surprise. As your voice joined the strings and woodwinds he began to realise that this was a wonderful surprise indeed.

You bewitch me Every damn second you're with me I try to think straight But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitch You bewitched me

As the audience broke out into thunderous applause and you took your bow, George took a moment to pat the small square box in the pocket of his suit jacket, the box that held the promise of forever.

Bewitched was the only word word to describe him.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Logan Sargeant

✧Pancakes for Dinner - Lizzy Mc Alpine

In the last few years Logan had been away from his family and friends during the Fourth of July weekend. It was never easy, he spent most of his childhood surrounded by all the people he loved most, with barbecue food and football on the beach filling up the day, the celebrations starting early in the morning and ending with the insane firework display at night. They were some of his favourite memories, the ones that comforted him on the days and nights when his career started to feel like a noose around his neck that tightened with every race weekend that didn't go according to plan.

Which is why he was so happy that this year, the race calendar perfectly bordered his beloved holiday, with Austria ending mere hours before he found himself on a flight back to Florida to celebrate on his week off before Silverstone. Seeing his family was a welcome reprieve from his hectic life, but seeing you was the cherry on top of a perfect week.

The firepit that roared at the beginning of the night had died down to a comforting glow, the beach behind his family home now empty apart from you and him, the rest of the guests gone inside to continue the festivities in the house. "It's good to have you back Lo, I miss you a lot when you're off living the dream" your voice carries across the space between you as you messed with the guitar that sat on your lap, beer forgotten at your feet as you strummed random chords. You had always been his best friend ever since you both met at a karting track as kids, he used to race with your brother before he decided that baseball was his calling, but you and Logan were attached at the hip until he left to move to England to take his career to another level. Now your friendship consisted of facetime calls, battling with time zone differences instead of a 10 minute walk to your house. "You should agree to come to more races then, you know you're invited to basically every one right?"

In reality he knew that globetrotting with him to a new country every fortnight wasn't that simple. You were a veterinary nurse in Florida and he was a racing driver, both of your schedules too hectic to allow for any real time spent together that didn't involve him making the trip back to his hometown. "You really want to put me and your boss on the same continent, I'm too pretty to go to jail!"

The two of you busted up into laughter at the idea of James Vowels being unfortunate enough to be close enough to you that you could finally give the man a piece of your mind. "I do miss Lily though, so might have to take some time off for Austin this year." The fake offended noise that left his lips made you laugh hard enough that Logan was sure his neighbours could hear you. He was sure that the only bond that could rival the one you shared with him was the one that you held with his teammates girlfriend, the fact that you had spent more time at the golf course with Lily this year than you had seeing him face to face sparked emotions in him that he wasn't quite ready to acknowledge.

"What are you playing there?"

The sly smile that crept up onto your face, illuminated by the firelight made his heart stutter, your answer didn't betray your emotions as you started strumming the melody more clearly.

"I wrote you something."

Logan swore his pulse started up in double time as you met his eyes. You had played guitar since you were eight years old but your own songs had been secret for as long as he can remember. But something in the moment caused you to let him into a part of your life he was sure he would never see.

"Play it for me."

The world around them was muffled and felt a million miles away as you nodded before training your eyes on the black ocean in front of you both. Lyrics flowing from you before you changed your mind.

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner I wanna get stuck in your head I wanna watch a T.V. show together And when we're under the weather we can watch it in bed I wanna go out on the weekends I wanna dress up just to get undressed I think that I should probably tell you this In case there is an accident And I never see you again So please save all your questions for the end And maybe I'll be brave enough by then

Laughter from the house behind you both broke the electric energy that filled the air.

"So? What do you think?"

Logan could only hope his kiss was worth a thousand words.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Alex Albon

✧Juno - Sabrina Carpenter

There wasn't a person alive that believed the joke that Alexander Albon was the biggest WAG in the world than the man himself. While he spent his days driving his Williams car in the midfield of the F1 grid he was more than aware that you kissed him good morning every day you spent together, only to go and play a sold out concert to a stadium of adoring fans, of which Alex was your biggest.

He still found himself pinching his arm whenever he saw you, either on stage playing the global superstar or in the comfort of your own home playing with your puppy Juniper. It seemed uncharacteristic of him when he slid into your DM's one night after seeing a concert with his sisters, but fate apparently had his cards picked out in his favour when you visited a race a few weeks later as a guest of Red Bull and he got to meet you in person, the rest was history as you had been dating the Thai driver ever since.

The distance wasn't always easy but this particular summer break lined up perfectly with the end of the US leg of your most recent tour, which is how you both ended up spending your three week break in Bali, completely wrapped up in each other with no work interruptions.

Until today that is.

His place in your shared bed gave him the perfect view of you pacing the balcony of the villa that had been rented for the duration of your stay. His eyes easily following your body as it appeared in the doorway before disappearing just as quick, back and forth as you spoke to your management team on the phone, a call which was hitting the forty minute mark, causing his patience to wear thin. Luckily just before the call was about to hit an hour in length you ended it and your figure bounding back into the room caused him to sit up against the headboard. You grabbed your laptop from your bag before sliding back into bed, lips meeting his before you settled in and began furiously searching through the files on your desktop.

"what part of vacation do they not understand?" he groaned, his face finding the crook of your neck as you let out a laugh, nudging his side.

"That was Marcus, Short and Sweet drops in an hour."

Alex could feel the excitement vibrating through your body. Your most recent album had been in the works for months and while he usually got to live through the entire process with late night writing sessions and studio visits between races, you had been oddly secretive when it came to this one. He was excited for you, he loved your voice and your music was what had brought you together so seeing you continue to make the music that made you so happy made the challenges that came with your relationship worth it.

A soft "aha" pulled him out of his daydream as you pulled up the folder that contained the songs. He sat up again, ready for the full listening party that he was so used to at this point. Which is why his proud grin turned a tad confused as you dragged the cursor down to the third to last track on the album, his question died on his tongue as you pressed play on the file titled Juno (A.A<3) and the music started to pour through the speakers of your laptop.

Oh, I know you want my touch for life If you love me right, then who knows? I might let you make me Juno You know I just might (Might) Let you lock me down tonight One of me is cute, but two though? Give it to me, baby You make me wanna make you fall in love

His ears burned as the song ended and by the look on your face he was reacting exactly how you wanted.

"So? What do you think?"

Your laptop tumbled onto a stray cushion that found its way onto the floor, as he tackled you back onto the sheets. laughter filling the room.

Thank god for the end of the tour.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

Part two will be up asap. Requests are open.

Hope you enjoyed!

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

[nuitfilms]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀[ 𝐋𝐄𝓝𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝓥𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐒 ] jeon soyeon

␥ (g)i-dle’s soyeon x fem!reader ␥ 784 words 🚨 SMUT, power imbalance (senior-junior), idol non-au, hair pulling, recording session, gagging on her fingers ␥ there’s always room for one to learn, and you learn a little more about you (and her) after spending three days recording a song with her.

Jeon Soyeon is an ace in the game and everyone knows that.

She captures the audience with her charismatic stage presence, wows her industry seniors with her rapping skills, and churns out more songs than she could ever utilize for her career. Some of them get gifted or sold to other artists to avoid them being locked in the archives.

That is how you were able to be connected to the idol rapstar herself. While you have chosen to remain in the shadows with your music as an underground artist, Soyeon’s discovery of you leads you to the transition of a more public career. You quickly amass a social media presence, find yourself slipping away from SoundCloud, and cementing yourself on Spotify’s million monthly listeners club along with your favorite artists.

You, too, have a way with words in your lyrics, but you could never deny the opportunity to learn more, and to be better. Being talented enough to be gifted a song from Soyeon is one thing, but actually working with her in the recording studio is another.

You’ve been seeing her in her element for over three days. While you can swiftly tune and refine your work, Soyeon takes a little more time to do so. There are minor details that she will rework, and you patiently work with her through it because this is a new perspective for you. Your production will certainly differ from a seasoned idol’s production.

But spending three long days together has made you both discover some new things about each other.

And yourselves.

It’s the middle of the night. Your heavy eyelids threaten to draw to a close, but your back is pinned up against the wall of the small recording booth. Soyeon is tucked between your legs—one of them propped over her shoulder—and her mouth is doing inexplicable things to your pussy as her slender fingers are inside you.

Your head tips back, mouth falling open with sharp pants and suppressed moans as you struggle to stay upright. The flickering red light that indicates the session being recorded doesn’t go unnoticed but you’re too out of it (or way too into it) to care. Your mind is simply polluted by the flicks of her tongue on your throbbing clit, the sharpness of her teeth when she sucks on it bringing your back to an arch.

You fist at her hair, clenching at her roots and pushing her head closer, and she greedily laps at your dripping cunt.

“Don’t be shy,” she coos, her curled fingers thrusting deeper. “Let the mic hear you loud and clear.”

“I’m trying,” you gasp.

“Try harder.”

A sudden smack on your pussy breaks your silence. You yelp as the sharp sensation persists, her hand repeatedly swatting where you’re most sensitive. Your hip bucks at each hit, your moans gradually morphing into pathetic cries, pitched yelps, and pleas for mercy.

Soyeon gets an ego boost as she watches you crumble. Your creamy wetness coats her fingers and drips down to her wrist as she fucks you. If only she had her strap on hand, she would’ve completely ravaged you into the early hours of the morning but who would really carry that around?

And who knew you would give in so quickly?

“Soyeon.. sunbae,” you pant as your thighs tremble. “So close, so close, so close..”

Her mouth promptly finds your clit and the rapid strokes of her tongue—partnered with her fingers inside you—brings you to ecstasy. She moans as the prettiest noises fall from your lips. Your exposed tits hang from the neckline of your low cut top, and she observes them jiggling as you rock your hips against her face. She gladly accepts her fate of nearly seeing the light when your thighs lock up around her head.

When you release your grip on her hair, she falls back and marvels at the lewd, disheveled sight. You’re clawing at the walls behind you, panting and catching your breath. She eyes your slick-coated thighs. Her gaze lowers a little more, and she smirks at the puddle of your cum on the floor.

“What a messy, messy girl,” she remarks as she gets back on her feet.

She approaches you, closing you off with her hand to the wall above your head, and shoves her slick-coated digits into your mouth. You didn’t expect her to do that, therefore gagging at the sudden intrusion.

“You’re gonna sound so good on this song.”

Heat rushes to your face, and warmth steadily flows to the pit of your stomach again. Looking Soyeon in the eyes almost gives you a glimpse into the future.

One that involves you being pinned down on her bed instead.

[redcarpetexpert]

[delicatebarness]

cry baby | chapter nine

Summary: The makeover.

Warning: ???

Word Count: 939

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A/N: She's a short one but I hope it's okay! Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as it is mine. - B

Tags: @buckys0whore | @thezombieprostitute | @lanabuckybarnes | @mishkatelwarriorgoddess | @softieekayy | @noonespecial90 | @hello-therree | @randomawesomeperson102 | @whoreforbarnes | @thejutvtsupport | @somnorvos | @thetorturedbuckydepartment

Each day that followed that evening in the bar, you battled to maintain your composure at work or amongst your friends. Your anxiety was only fueled by the continued whispers of accusations and suspicions. You needed a distraction, something to pull you out of the spiral of worry and guilt. And, you knew the ladies just for the job.

One evening, after a long day, you sent a text to your group chat consisting of only you, Natasha, and Wanda. You missed your girl's nights in with them, the times you shared laughter, stories, and secrets. As you typed out your text, an idea struck you - a makeover. You could use a refresh, something to break free from the cloud that loomed over you. 

The next day, you arrived at their apartment with excitement and anticipation. “Ready to become a new you?” As you entered the apartment, Natasha teased as she gestured toward the many outfits and makeup products in the living area. 

The apartment was cozy and inviting, the rooms filled with colors and their personal touches. 

“Let’s get started!” Wanda exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm as she entered from the kitchen, drinks in hand. “First things first, we need to pick out some outfits!”

You spent the next couple of hours trying on clothes, you laughed as your friends debated which of their styles suited you best. After some compromise between them, they settled on one of Wanda’s sleek, red leather jackets paired with Natasha’s dark jeans and a pair of combat boots - a look that you thought screamed confidence and strength.

You sat down as they got to work with your hair and makeup. Nat worked on your hair while Wanda focused on your makeup. “You know,” Natasha began, her voice gentle as she brushed your hair. “This isn’t going to make you any stronger, you’re already the strongest out of us all.” 

Wanda nodded in agreement. “You’ve handled everything with grace, this is just for fun, okay?” 

As they continued their work, you tried to stop your eyes from welling from their words. You knew this wasn’t about your physical changes, it was about embracing a new mindset, one where you could face the world without crying.

~

When you were done, you hardly recognized yourself. Your hair was styled with braids and a bandana, and your makeup accentuated your features. It gave you a bold, darker look. You felt like a different person, like someone who wouldn’t have trouble saying no to anyone. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” you murmured, turning to face your friends. “Thank you,”

“Don’t thank us yet,” Natasha grinned. “We’ve got one more surprise for you.” 

She led you to the front door as Wanda picked up an extra helmet and her keys. “We’re going to the bar,” she said, gesturing you to follow them. “Time to show off your new look.” 

~

A hush fell over the bar as you stepped into the familiar room. An intensity rose as all eyes turned toward you and your friends. They flanked you as you walked toward your usual booth, their presence giving you an extra boost of confidence. 

You noticed Steve, Bucky, and Sam were already at your booth. Their eyes widened in surprise as they saw you. The rest of the bar had similar reactions, quiet gasps and murmurs of appreciation filled the air. 

“Wow,” Steve said, standing up to hug you. His expression shifted as he noted the lingering stares from the others in the bar. His protective instinct reveals itself. “You look amazing, Sis,” 

Sam nodded in agreement, a playful smirk spreading across his face. 

You blushed, “Thanks, it’s all thanks to Nat and Wanda.” Giving your friends a small smile, you gestured you were going over to the bar. 

As you settled by the bar, Bucky’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the attention you were attracting. A group of men at the bar began whispering, and he noticed their glances toward you. He stood up and walked over to you, his large frame looming over you.

“You okay with all this attention?” he asked, his voice low as he leaned in closer. His gaze flickered back to the men, his jaw tightening. 

You nodded, trying to keep your eyes dry. 

He sighed staying by you as you ordered drinks for your group. The scanning of the room from Bucky didn’t stop, he sent uneasy glances toward anyone who looked your way. 

You tried to explain to him how the makeover had made you feel like a tougher version of yourself, more like Natasha and Wanda. You hoped that maybe not looking like the ‘weak link’ would make you no longer be, just that. 

After what felt like a while, he leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “So, you’re telling me,” he muttered, his breath warm against your ear, “you’re not going to cry if someone like… Rumlow came in here now and got this close to you?” 

His thumb brushed lightly over your cheek, and a shiver involuntarily rushed down your spine. “Bucky, I…”

He didn’t let you finish, your gaze locked with his as his face was mere inches from yours. Your heart raced at the intensity between the two of you. “What about this close?” he asked as he moved his hand lower, grazing his fingers lightly over the exposed skin on your neck.  

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your emotions. “No… I know you’d never let him this near.” 

A smile spread across his face, his expression softening. His lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “That's my girl.” 

---

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[jrswritings]

Tingles and Giggles - Chapter Seven - Tyler Owens x Reader

Get caught up with Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, and Chapter Six! Masterlist :)

Chapter Seven - Playin' Games

After driving for a half hour, your stomach decided to make an appearance by growling loudly just when the radio was switching songs. Your arms immediately covered your stomach, not like it mattered, you both knew where the gurgle came from. 

“Food is only five more minutes away, think you can last that long or will you wither away into nothing?” He asked, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. 

“I think I’ll be okay,” you said, rubbing your belly, “I’m not sure about my stomach though.” 

As soon as you rounded the corner, there was a cute little red barn-shaped building next to a little convenience shop. The outside sign read ‘The Barn.’

“Is this where we’re eating? It barely looks like it would fit 50 people!” You said, sitting up in your seat. 

“Yep! My mom and I used to come here when I was a young kid and get breakfast on our way to Wyoming to watch my dad in one of the rodeos out there,” he said, “He started my love for riding but after so many accidents I had to switch to tornadeos.” 

“We’ll have to go to one sometime, there’s plenty of them down in Salado,” you said, “They use one of my parent’s bulls.” 

Once he parked, you opened your door and slid out of your seat. 

“Little lady you get back in the truck and let me open that door for you!” Tyler said in a rush, getting out of the driver's side and jogging around the front of the truck to grab the door. 

“Ty, I’m a grown woman and can open and close doors all by myself,” you said, patting his chest and walking by him. 

“But I’m here so that means you don’t have to,” he said, catching up to you while you walked into the little diner. 

“Let me be independent while also being a gentleman,” you said. 

“Hello, kids! C’mon in and sit where ever you’d like!” The waitress called from behind the small wall of delicious pies. 

Tyler led you over to a booth near a window, rolling up the shade slightly. 

Another waitress came over with menus, silverware, and glasses of water.

“Howdy, my name is Brandi and I’ll be your server, is there anything else you’d like to drink besides the water? We have lemonades, sweet teas, and Coke products,” she said while setting everything down on the table and taking out a notepad. 

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please,” you said, picking up the menu to start mulling over your options. 

“I’ll do the same, thank you,” Tyler said, rubbing his foot on yours under the table. 

“Comin’ right up, sugar,” she said and walked off to the counter with a little too much pep in her step. This started a little fire inside of you that you didn’t know could be lit. 

Tyler saw your facial expression change over the top of the menu as you gave Brandi a slight glare. 

“Calm down, baby girl,” he said softly, reaching across the table and putting a hand over yours, “You’re all I have eyes for.” 

You sighed, looking up at him. “What are you getting?” 

“Well, probably a burger,” he said, glancing down at their menu. 

“I’ll probably do the same,” you said, closing the menu and setting it at the front of the table, “Burgers are usually my, what I call, safe meal. It’s hard to mess up on a burger and fries.” 

“I get that, as a kid my meal used to be chicken tenders and fries,” he said, taking a drink of his water and looking at the menu.

The waitress came back over, setting the teas down on the table, “Alright you two, here are those teas and what can I get started for you?” 

“Let my wife order first, I usually wait to see what she gets before ordering as I most times end up switching because she says mine looks better,” he said gesturing to you with a smile. 

Hearing him call you his wife shocked not only you but the waitress as well. You looked over at him and he winked at you. 

“I’ll have a California burger with no onions, fries, with a side of ranch please,” you said, trying your best to remain calm after being called Tyler’s wife when you two aren’t even dating. 

“And for you sir?” The waitress asked, keeping her eyes on her notepad. 

“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with fries,” he said, “Along with a slice of apple pie for us to share, it’s her favorite.” 

“I’ll put your order in and it should be out in 10 minutes, would you like whipped cream on the pie?” She asked, grabbing the menus off the table. 

“Honey, what do you think?” He asked, grabbing your hands on top of the table.

“I would love some, thank you, Brandi,” you said, smiling up at her and rubbing his knuckles with your thumb. 

“Will do,” she said and walked to the kitchen. 

“Your wife?!” You whisper shouted at Tyler. Granted, you didn’t fully mind as Mrs. (Y/n) Owens had a ring to it, but it was more so unexpected. 

“I didn’t like how upset you got by her callin’ me sugar, so I had to improvise and that’s what I came up with,” he said, “Are you sayin’ you wouldn’t want to be married to this teddy bear?” 

“Only time will tell, Owens,” you said, taking a drink of your tea. 

“Playin’ games, are we now, honey?” He asked, leaning onto his elbows that were resting on the edge of the table. 

“No, but need I remind you that this is technically our first date?” You asked him quietly. 

“Nope, I just love seein’ you blush,” he said, reaching over and pinching your cheek softly. 

You slapped his hand away playfully, “Okay Grandpa, you can quit pinching me.” 

“But why? Your cheeks are just too cute,” he said, making his voice sound like he was 40 years older. 

“Oh stop it, baby,” you said, noticing how smoothly that slipped off your tongue. 

“See honey, by the end of the day you’ll be calling me hubby and all will be well in the world,” he said, a cheesy smile coming to his face. 

“Don’t test your luck, Owens,” you said, wagging one of your pointer fingers at him. 

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding his hands up as a surrender. 

“Bacon cheeseburger for you sir,” Brandi said, sliding a basket in front of Tyler. 

“That looks good,” you said, ogling over his burger. 

“See? In five minutes we’ll have different baskets,” Tyler joked with the waitress. 

“And a California burger with fries and ranch for you, ma’am,” she said, “I’ll be over with the pie in a few minutes. Is there anything else you two need?” 

“This will be all, thank you,” he said, looking over at you and then at the waitress. 

As she walked away, Tyler looked at you practically drooling over his burger basket. 

“Do you want to trade?” He asked, nudging the basket towards you. 

“No, no,” you said, “That’s what you ordered, I’ll let you enjoy it.” 

“If you say so,” he said, taking a big bite of the burger. 

You grabbed a few fries and dipped them in the ranch, then stuffed them in your mouth. As you chewed you did a slight wiggle in your seat. Tyler watched you do that while taking a few fries and eating them. 

“Do you always wiggle after you eat fries with ranch on them?” He asked, using a fry to point to you, the fries, and the ranch. 

“Just think of it as the negative, hangry mood leaving my body per se,” you said, taking a bite of your burger. 

“Is it because you love fries and ranch?” He asked, smiling slightly. 

You nodded and grabbed a few more fries while you finished the bite you just took, not wanting to look like you were starving and shoveling the food into your mouth faster than you could chew. 

“I’ll remember that,” he chuckled, taking a big drink of his sweet tea. 

“Here’s that warmed apple pie with whipped cream on top for the lovely couple,” the waitress that originally greeted you said as she placed the pie with two spoons in front of you. 

“Thank you,” you said after swallowing your bite. 

“Is there anything else I can get you, or is it alright if I grab the tab?” She asked, “You’re welcome to stay as long as you’d like to keep out of the Oklahoma heat.” 

“Maybe a box and to-go forks for the pie? The burgers have been more filling than I think either of us realized,” Tyler said, patting his stomach. 

“Let me go put it in the container for you, hon,” she said, grabbing the plate and walking to the kitchen. She came back two minutes later with the pie in a styrofoam container, two plastic forks, and the tab. 

“Thank you so much, we appreciate it,” you said, finishing the last of your burger. 

“Of course, sugar! Thank you for choosing The Barn, please come back anytime!” She said, walking back to the kitchen. 

Tyler left cash on the table for the bill and put his hat back on, then slid out of his seat after finishing his tea. He stood up straight, grabbed the container with the slice of pie, and then held out his hand for you. You sucked down what was left of your tea and grabbed his hand while sliding out of the booth. 

“Have a great day!” The older waitress called out as you both walked out the door.

“Damn, you must have scared off the other waitress by calling me Mrs.Owens,” you laughed, “She never came back.” 

“Good!” He said, giving you a wide grin while holding the door open. 

Want more? Here's Chapter Eight!

Taglist: @fanboyswhore9 @faith719

[drgnflyteabox]

postcards from the coast [2]

previous || part two -> linens || part three -> tbd

series masterlist

pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick / single mom!reader summary: kyle looks for you, then finds you tags/warnings: grief, less angst but still there, depression, non-creepy stalking, judgmental people, anxiety, previous injuries, insomnia, don't accept rides from strange men ladies and theydies, unless it's gaz then feel free<3 w.c: 1.2k

"Can I get a red-eye?"

Sleep has been difficult lately. Evasive. He sometimes goes through insomniac phases, where no amount of jogging or calisthenics practice or mental exercise helps. It's pure, restless energy.

Before, he might've taken himself to a bar, found a pretty girl to fuck and ease the buzzing under his skin. Now it's too painful - too much of a reminder of post-mission decompressing with the team. Sat in a circle booth, slapping each other on the back as they left, the smell of cigar-smoke and perfume.

Not that he'd be able to here, anyway. The town is too small, too isolated. There's hardly a main street, just a strip with bare necessities vaguely at the center of rolling hill country pock-marked with bleached white cottages and surrounded by cold ocean on all sides.

Peaceful, sometimes. Unbearable, mostly.

"Sure, any milk or sugar?"

"No, that's alright, thank you." He's been here every day, mixing a caffeine fix with his ongoing search for you. Curiosity and boredom, he tells himself. The product of so many sudden life changes - the end of their last mission, Johnny's passing. He just needs something else to focus on, something soft and wide-eyed.

At least the coffee is good.

The next time he sees you, it's in passing. Driving out of town to the post office to pick up a gift from his sister.

You're holding a toddler by both arms, their feet on yours, walking them up the steps toward the local library. Another long skirt, wimpling softly in the breeze. There's a smile on your face as you watch the child walk with you.

It almost feels like a missed opportunity - like he should turn back. But the post office closes in a couple hours and it takes nearly that long to get there, so Kyle elects to be patient.

You're there every evening. From five o'clock until closing at eight, you sit at the same window and alternate reading a massive tome and babbling back at your baby, who's sitting on a wooden high-chair.

The librarian makes rounds just to say hello to the two of you, pinching cheeks and ooing and aweing.

"And how old is she again?" She whispers mindfully. Her nametag says Nettie and she's a kindly-looking old woman, bent a little from years of work but sturdy as a mast in a storm.

"Turning two soon," you whisper back. Neither of you have any idea he's there yet, browsing the books as a cover to peek through the shelf at you. "She's a taurus."

"Just about to hit the terrible twos!" Nettie laughs.

"Yep," you laugh with her, but there's something there. A sheepishness. Embarrassment? Your expression is almost a grimace, from what he doesn't know. He wants to, though. Looks through the peephole and lets his chest fill with something other than grief for just a moment.

"And the father? Not a fan of reading?" She probably means well, but your face goes from vaguely uncomfortable to something like a deer in the headlights.

"Oh, um," you're floundering, but Nettie is too busy stroking a wrinkled hand over your girls head. "He's not in the picture."

Not in the picture? If Kyle had felt any kind of guilt for eavesdropping, it's overshadowed by that information. Best stake-out of his career to-date.

You shrink a little when Nettie yanks her hand back, frowning. He can tell judgement and prejudice when he sees it - experience and a keen eye. Must be hard being a single mom.

Resigned - that's the look. Pained and embarrassed and resigned.

"Right. Well," Nettie's sensible leather shoes clack against the floor. You don't watch her go, your hand is reaching into your bag for a tiny knit hat.

Fuck, you're leaving.

As you gather your things - book, coat, bags, baby - he tucks himself into the shelf, positioned still as a sniper, to-

"Ouch!" Your voice cuts through the quiet of the library. Kyle flounders, caught off guard for once. He'd only gently bumped into you to make it look like an accident, like something out of a rom-com. Girls liked that, usually.

But instead of looking up at him with surprise, you close your eyes and shy away from him, shoulders coming up defensively - you can't reach your arm, not with a baby on your hip, but it's obvious you're in pain.

"Are you okay?" You look to him, wincing still. You're asking him if he's okay? Heat creeps into his cheeks, warming him with regret.

"I'm good, I'm good," he says quickly. "Sorry about that, love, didn't see you there."

"That's okay," you readjust, arm limp at your side. Your heavy bags hang off of it, but there's nothing you can do with the baby on your hip.

"Let me get those," there's no time for you to reject his offer; he's too quick. The bags are heavy - no doubt there are more books and a baby go-bag. This close, you smell powdery soft like linen sheets and laundry dried outside.

"It's the least I can do," he's trying to be casual about it, lest he scare you off. Holds the door open, notices while you step out that your daughter looks just like you.

"Thank you, you didn't have to," you look down. How'd you hurt your arm? He knows he didn't hurt you - not like that, at least. Not enough to warrant such a reaction.

"Of course I did, didn't mean to get'cha so hard," his head swivels. There are only two cars in the parking lot. "Can I get these in your car?"

"Oh, I walked, that's okay," you reach to take the bags back, but he pulls away.

"I can't let you walk home, please- let me be a gentleman and give you a ride," he knows it's a long shot. Neither of you have exchanged names, neither of you are locals. He's tried to make himself look as approachable as possible; head tilted down, brown eyes imploring, palms out even with your bags in one hand, but it's a gamble.

There's natural suspicion and hesitation, your eyes looking side-to-side, but you nod with a hesitant smile after a moment. It's hard to keep the grin down, but he manages it up until you're tucked in his passenger seat and he's putting your bags in the back of his car.

"My name is Kyle, by the way," he puts his keys in the ignition, turns them. Pretends not to notice how you sink into the seat, eyes drooping, holding your daughter on your lap. It's not safe, but it's a country road and he promised to drive slow on the way.

You tell him your name. It's pretty, fitting. He wonders again about you - who left you like this? Alone, hurt, tired, trusting a stranger to drive you home. If he were your man, he'd never let you be put in a position like that.

The cottage you're renting is tiny, a glorified shack, rented as a cottage for tourists.

"There you are," he murmurs, trying not to startle you. "Need help getting in?"

"Hm?" You've been staring out the window. "Sorry! No, I'm alright, thank you again for the ride. Josie and I appreciate it."

Josie. It fits her, fits you. His eyes crinkle at the corners.

There's not a chance he lets you get the bags out yourself, and once you're appropriately sent off to your door, he sits and waits for a moment. Makes sure you get inside. Feels something loosen in his chest.

[haileybeehappy]

Making Music

Word count : 3k

Warnings : Oral sex (fem receiving) Calling Harry sir, dom harry, I don't know much about music production tbh, p in v sex, spanking, unprotected sex, wrap your willy silly!

Summary: Harry recording back tracks and extra vocals and he pulls you in with him and fucks you in the recording booth. Using your moans in the songs

Harry said he had a quick session today and he wanted you to join. Just finishing up some back tracks on his next album and paperwork stuff. It wasn’t uncommon that you came to the studio with him, you would work on your writing as he worked on his music. Your fingers gliding back and forth on your keyboard as he is in the booth, his voice soothing you down to your bones.

It’s just you and him in the small office like room, your feet swung up onto the edge of the sound board and he is in the booth. Headphones perched on his head one ear exposed so he can hear himself and you. “Okay love just click the button on the computer,” you push your body back and press the button that commences the recording. The track plays through his ears as you watch him through the plexiglass window. Grasping at the extra headphones plugged into the end of the soundboard and slide them over your head. Securing them onto your ears. His voice riding and falling to match the chords and lyrics. Adding depth and layers to the beautiful song. You glance back up at him and his eyes are on you already. You smile at him and he smiles back. His dimples poking out, a light blush filling his cheeks. As he finishes out the song, holding your eyes in his gaze the whole time he nods to signal to push the button again.

“Again?” You ask through the intercom. He nods in confirmation as you quickly reset the recording as he has showed you many times before and press the button to start again. His eyes close as he hits notes that are at the peak of his vocal range. The veins and tendons in his neck bulging slightly. You look at him with a smile on your face. His curls moving and shifting as he shakes his head. As the song came to a crescendo you could basically see his veins vibrating at his pulse point. The sight causing a heat to ignite between your legs. You’ve always loved his neck. His shoulders. His collar bones. His arms. Everything about him really. But you that soft spot in his neck really gets you going in a different way.

Maybe it’s because the whimpers and groans that escape his neck as you kiss at the small birthmarks. Or that when he’s sheathed inside of you, your mouth bites and sucks at the skin till it’s red and bruised. Maybe it’s because you find your hands settling there often when his mouth is on yours, rubbing at his soft skin and scraping through his scruff.

The song falls to an end and your eyes are still intently trained on him. The slick between your thigh pooling. Getting yourself riled up at just the thought of him was not a new experience. You’re not very good at hiding the symptoms either. Your legs are crossed tightly, blush spread across your cheeks and eyes blown with lust. Harry steps out of the booth, leaving the headphones hung around his neck as he quickly finds the seat next to you. Pulling up to the computer, only glancing in your direction before flipping the headphones back atop his head and listing back to the track. His head bobbing to the tempo, bought lip pulled between his teeth. You roll your chair close to his and rest your head on his shoulder. The music pumping through your own headphones as you close your eyes and listen to his voice. Feeling his body against yours, you grasp your arms around his waist and breathe in his scent. His hands wrap into yours and his thumb rubs back and forth against your skin. Causing goosebumps to travel up your arms. The contact against him making the pulse between your legs uncomfortable. You start to wiggle in your chair. Adjusting your position. Shuffling your legs back and forth before Harry looks back at you.

“You okay lovey?” He asks. His voice distant because of the headphones. You stop yours off your head and drop them to the sound board. He pops his ear out.

“Yeah just uncomfortable I guess,” you shrug. Pulling your legs up onto the chair and wiggling some more.

“Can I fix it?” A laugh echos through your head.

‘You’re the one one who can fix it,’ you think to yourself but just shrug in response.

“I don’t think so, just been sitting to long I guess,”

“You guess?” A small smile on his lips. “Tell me what’s going on,” he reaches out to you and pulls you chair to him. Slotting you and the chair between his thighs. You roll your eyes and drop your head back.

“It’s stupid,” you whisper

“It’s not stupid if it makes you uncomfortable love,” his fingers rubbing at the exposed skin of your ankle. The smirk on his lips replaced with concern. “Just tell me please,” you sigh.

“Harry really, you’re just gonna laugh,” he shakes his head at the accusation.

“I promise,”

“I’m horny,” you whine as you tuck your face into your knees. Your voice muffled by the fabric of your leggings and your body.

“What lovey?” He asks again. His voice dropping to meet yours.

“IM HORNY!” You all but yell. Lifting your head so he can look you in the eyes. His eyes widen and his mouth opens in surprise and then slowly a smile makes its way to his lips and his eyes crinkle. You narrow your eyes at him and pull your lips into a snarl. “You promised,” you whine as a small chuckle leaves his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I really am,” his hands grab your legs and pull them onto his lap. Running his fingers up to your thighs. Grasping your legs hard. Fingers massaging into your thighs. “You’re so cute baby,” you hide your face behind your hands.

“Leave me alone,” you groan. He runs his hands to your hips.

“I can’t leave you alone baby, gotta fix your problem huh?” You shake your head.

“Just go back to work,”

“Can’t go back to work knowing my girl needs me,” he pulls your hands from your face. Grasping your chin in his fingers. “Can I help you please?” You just answer him with a nod. “Words love,” he demands. His lips a breath from yours.

“Please Harry,” before you can finish saying his name his lips are on yours. Swallowing your breath with his. Your hands grasping at the sides of his head. Your thumb rolling over his pulse point. You pull back and move to place kisses on his neck. As you get to your coveted spot he pulls you onto his lap. A yelp leaves your mouth, his hands find your ass and starts kneeding it as you place kissed across his throat. Placing kisses on every inch of exposed skin. The groan he releases as you begin to move your hips over his causes your eyes to roll back behind your closed lids.

“Hold onto me love,” you wrap your hands around his neck and he stands. Your legs cling to his waist. “Good girl,” he whispers in your ears. Causing pins and needles to shoot down your spine. Before you could ask what he’s doing his lips find yours and he pushes the both of you into the booth. Your back hits the wall and he pulls you down so his bulge rubs against your center. Slowly moving your hips against his, pushing and pulling you against the wall. Moans squeak their way past your lips and he continues to devour you. He slowly lowers your feet to the ground. Placing one last hard kiss on your lips. “Hold on a minute baby,” he turns and leaves the booth. Clicking a few things on the computer and making his way back to you.

“What did you just do Harry?” You ask accusingly.

“You know what I just did,” he smirks. He then drops to his knees in front of you. Pushes your body back so your back meets the foam carpeted wall of the sound booth and then hooks his hands into the waistband of your leggings and slowly pulls them down to your ankles. You look down at him as he pulls the fabric completely off your legs. Your shoes already discarded under your chair by the soundboard. “Gonna make you feel so good baby,” he begins kissing at the inside of your knee. Slowly making his way to the soft spot of your inner thigh. Pausing to suck at the sensitive skin. Causing dark red welts to trail behind. You’re doing everything you can to not close his head between your thighs. The tickling sensation soon replaced by pleasure as your knee finds residency on his shoulder and he placed a light kiss on your clit before licking a long stripe through your folds. Causing your head to drop back into the wall and you raise yourself onto your tiptoes to get closer to him. Moans are wracking through your body as he continues to lick through your folds. His nose occasionally bumping your clit, your hips twitching at the teasing sensation.

“Harry please,” you sigh out. His mouth leaves your core and he looks up to you.

“Tell me what you need baby,” you let out a groan. He loves hearing the foul words leave your mouth. He always makes you beg. Tell him exactly what you need even if it makes you blush like no other.

“Your mouth,” you moan out as he begins to leave a hickey on the most sensitive soft part of you thigh.

“I’ve been using my mouth honey,” he smirks against your skin.

“You didn’t let me finish,” you laugh out. “Your mouth, on my clit Harry please,” the words rush out of your mouth. He dives down and lays his tongue flat against your folds and slowly trails up to your clit. Very very slowly wrapping his lips against it and sucking lightly. Your hips jerk to his face and you all but scream his name. “Oh fuck Harry please,” you whine finally reaching down to pull at his hair. “Harder please Harry,” he moans at the stinging sensation. The vibrations against your clit almost sending you over. He quickly pulls back.

“What else love,” he breathes heavily.

“Your fingers please Harry,” he adjusts himself slight so he can guide his hand between your legs without letting your leg fall of his shoulders. His fingers dive into your hot center and he reattaches himself to your clit. “Fuck yes right there,” you whine as he instantly finds the spongy spot inside you. And his fingers move over the spot gently while he continues to suck at your clit. As you find yourself reaching your peak your hips jerk against your face. “Yes Harry right there oh my god Harry yes please,” you moan out as you teeter on the edge. His other hand gives you two pats on your ass. Signaling you to come. You let the orgasm wash over you, your body goes limp and he holds you up with one hand on your waist and raising his elbow. He continues to suck on your clit, slowly releasing the pressure as you come down from your high. His fingers slipping out out you and going to wrap around the other side of your waist and lowering you to the ground.

“Oh fuck such a good girl baby, came so hard for me,” he groans as you settle yourself onto his kneeled legs. His fingers coming to your mouth. You pull his slick soaked fingers into your mouth through ragged breaths and clean yourself off of him. Swirling your tongue around the two digits in your mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers as you close your eyes. You sit there and breath each others breaths. Till your heart rate comes down and your head stops spinning.

“Gonna fuck me now?” You ask as you bring your eyes to meet him. A mischievous look in his eye as the words leave your mouth.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he joke. The two of you untangle your limbs and stand up. He moves to pull up your shirt, pulling it off your frame. Your hands go to unclasp your bra but his hands come over yours and quickly flick off the bra with one hand. A move he took months to master. Laying in bed clasping and unclasping your bra while he held you.

“Your turn,” you say as your hands go to undo his belt. He makes quick work of stripping off his top and then quickly pushing the pants down once your fingers are don’t figuring with his button. Before you can get a good look at him he spins you around and pushes your front against the small podium/music stand. Your breast squished against the cold wood, his hands slowly drifting from your shoulders to your hips. He kneads your ass with one hand while he uses the other to line himself with your entrance. As his tip begins to rub against your folds it occasionally bumps against your clit. You push yourself back into him hoping to sheath him inside you. He replies with a sharp slap on your round bottom.

“So needy,” he growls as he completely bottoms out in one move. Leaving himself pushed against your cervix as you adjust to his size. It’s like he was made for you. Filling you just enough to make you sore the next day but not painful. The moan you let out as his finger snakes around and begins to play with your clit is almost pornographic. He slowly begins to move as the sounds you release become louder. “Fuck you always take my dick so good love,” his voice releases into your ear.

“I’was made for me,” you say. His frame raising off your back and hand slipping from your clit. You whine at the loss but it quickly turns to a moan as he begins pumping into you with malice. His hands grabbing and pulling at your ass cheeks. The tip of his cock pushing against your cervix over and over. Your hands grasp the edge of the podium till your knuckles turn white. “Fuck Harry yes,” you repeat his name over and over as if you’re chanting a song. The small grunts and whimpers he’s making drowned out by the sound of his skin hitting yours. His hand leaves your ass and he buries his fingers in your hair. He entwines your hair between his ring clad fingers and pulls ever so slightly. You whimper out, “Harder.”

“My baby likes it rough huh?” You nod your head pulling your own hair. A moan following. “Likes to be fucked dumb huh?” He hasn’t slowed. His thrusts becoming sturdier. You can only moan in response. He then slowly comes to a stop. Leaning down so his tattooed chest is pressed against your hot back. “Fuck your self on my cock baby,”

“Yes sir,” you submit as you begin to slowly push yourself and pull yourself off his cock. Once you catch a rhythm you speed up your pace. His heavy breaths turn into small moans not leaving his throat to little gasps leaving his lips. Until he’s fully moaning out. You let go of the podium with one hand and slip your fingers over your clit.

“Oh fuck baby,” Harry whimpers. “Such a good girl, playing with your clit while you fuck yourself on me. So good for me,” his words pulling the orgasm from deep inside you. “So good at fucking yourself on my cock baby,” his hands finding themselves back on your hips and starts to pull you back on his dick even harder. Your orgasm breaching as you flutter around him. “Come for me baby, come all over my cock,” he demands as he begins pounding back into you. His name falls from your lips in broken syllables as your body wracks in pleasure. Your walls tighten around him in spasms. The pressure on his dick bringing him over the edge and his thrusts slow and become uneven and sloppy. He comes inside you, watching the white liquid push out of you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasms. He doesn’t stop until it physically hurts him to keep going. He pulls you up slowly and slips out of you. You turn to look at him and he places a hard kiss you your lips. You spin your body around and grab at his face.

“Thank you Harry,” your voice hoarse with sex.

“Of course love,” his hands lay to rest on your hips. Squeezing at you as he calls you love.

“Can we go home now?” You smile. He returns the gesture and nods.

“Yea let’s clean up and I’ll close out,” leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “But I wanna listen to that before we leave,” you points to the mic. You laugh and slap him in the chest.

“That can wait till we get home. We both know if you listen to that we’ll be here all night,” he shrugs knowingly.

“Fine I guess,”

- - -

A few months later his new album comes out. As you sit in his lap head resting on his chest as the music pumps through the large sound system in your shared living room. The second song of the album starts.

“Can we go home now?” Your voice vibrates through the speakers. Your head shoots up to look at him in the eyes. A familiar track begins to play. One you were there while he recorded.

��Harry!” You laugh

“Just wait there’s more,” he smiles. Raising his brows.

“Harry no!”

“You said I could!” He defends himself.

“I didn’t think you would,” you laugh even harder. Because of course he would. Why wouldn’t you think he would?!

“That’s on you,” he pulls you to him by the fabric of your shirt (his shirt if we’re being honest) as he places a kiss on your lips.

“I guess,” you sigh as you seperate. Then your own moans are back tracked on the song. Not quite loud enough and to really be heard. And the pitch is changed but you definitely recognize it. Your eyebrow raise and a wide smile stretches across his face.

“Harry!" is all you can say which grants a large belly laugh from him.