#YES YOU CAN REBLOG THIS PLS DO I WORKED HARD ON IT.

[intoxicatinginsanity]

It’s nights like these, where the thought of the view from halfway down is no longer a deterrent that works on my brain. I see the welcoming comfort of the forever sleep and I don’t immediately go, ‘no that just won’t do’. I dwell. I dip my feet in the dark waters, feeling the tug of the current on my skin; wondering how quick it would be.How inevitably painless it would be; if I just allowed myself to get pulled in by the undertow.

It would be scary, sure. But then, it would be done. And so would all the things that never seem to stop going wrong in my life. My inability to hold down work. My lack of prospects as a woman in my late twenties. The fact that my degree is ultimately useless. That I’ve worked nothing but menial jobs my whole life so I don’t qualify for anything of “ high pay value”. That I had to take a three year work gap because my partner caught cancer, and then a pandemic hit, and then after that pandemic they got an auto immune disease. That same condition we can’t even get formally diagnosed because our countries medical system is completely shit and the insurance available for the low income essentially hopes that we just die.

There’s also the ever growing realization that there is no one I can really turn to for help; especially not my family. That I’m at the edge of poverty, and that point in time is quickly approaching. That it’s either take a trash job that will work me until I’m more than the hollowed shell I already am, and put me at risk for contracting health issues from covid. That I also have to put my partner at risk of hospitalization, further immune issues and possible death, for said trash job. And then there is my usefulness, or rather uselessness as someone with utterly terrible executive function. My ADHD makes the most simple things, painstaking hard. My autism, makes it even harder. And the responsibilities keep piling up, and I am terrible at juggling. Everything is so overwhelming all the time. And frankly I just feel like imploding most days and when I look at myself in the mirror all I ever see is a burden and a failure. And I know everyone around me sees it too. And while yes, I know it will “get better”. Better isn’t here. Better seems so so far away. And I’m so so tired. And the weight I carry everyday is unbearably heavy. And on nights like this, I don’t feel like I can keep carrying it all.

But I’ll try anyways…because that’s what I have to do. I have to keep moving, performing, contributing, etc. Until I no longer can and then I’ll just be another fucking statistic that got caught in the cog of the capitalist machine. Trying to keep float when everything that is vital to living and having a stable life is only achievable through monetary means is fucking torture on the mind and body. And I’m so tired.

[bunny-1111]

Did I stutter? TN x fem!reader Part 2.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Genre: Smut, Angst, Fluff

WARNING: SMUTTTT, Reader discretion (18+) NO MINORSSSSSSS PLS

Authors note: first smut kinda nervous... this is a long one, I hope y'all enjoy <3

Part one here

reblogs, likes and comments appreciated my loves <3

...

What the fuck now, you think, making your way to the common room.

You shake your head, trying to clear the confusion, but it’s useless. Theo’s always been hard to read, kept his cards too close to his chest, but this feels different—like he’s dropped the mask just enough for you to glimpse something darker lurking beneath. Something you’re not sure how to deal with, what the fuck is next, this sudden dominance is not hard to accept but hard to understand.

When you finally return to the common room, Pansy lounges on one of the sofas, flipping through a magazine. She barely looks up when you enter.

“Well? Did he say anything?” she asks, her voice dripping with casual curiosity, but you know her well enough to recognise the gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"How did you even see us having a conversation?" you enquire, brows furrowing

"I saw you walk past, then I saw Theo walk back The opposite way with a tiny but telling smile on his face", she smiles "So tell me, what did he say? Did he ask you to the dance?" she continues.

You toss your bag onto the floor, sinking into the chair opposite her. “No, not exactly,” you mutter, more confused than ever. Your mind still replaying the look Theo gave you, the way he practically claimed you without saying a word.

Pansy arches an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your lack of gossip. “Not exactly? That doesn’t sound like nothing. Come on, spill.”

You bite your lip, hesitating. “He asked if anyone had asked me, and when I said no, he said… ‘Good. Keep it that way.’” The words feel strange in your mouth as if they don’t belong to a casual conversation but something heavier and more serious.

Pansy stares at you for a moment, then her lips curl into a knowing smirk. “Oh, that’s rich. Typical Theo.”

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Pansy tosses the magazine aside, leaning forward like she’s about to reveal some grand secret. “He’s marking his territory, babe. Telling you not to go with anyone else, without actually having the guts to ask you himself.”

Your heart skips a beat at her words. Could she be right? Was Theo staking some kind of silent claim over you? The thought sends a shiver down your spine, and not entirely out of fear. There’s a part of you—a part you’re not sure you’re ready to admit to—that likes the idea of being claimed by him.

But that doesn’t mean you’re okay with the way he’s going about it.

“So what?” you say, exasperation creeping into your voice. “He’s just going to tell me to wait around for him while he ignores me at the ball?”

Pansy shrugs, unbothered. “Pretty much. That’s how these boys work. They want you, but they’re too proud to ask. So they’ll just… hover.”

You roll your eyes, sinking further into the chair. “I’m not going to just sit here and wait for him to make up his mind.”

Pansy grins, eyes twinkling with something dangerous. “Then don’t. Go with someone else. Let him squirm.”

The idea sounds thrilling, but you know it’s not that simple. Theo’s not the kind of guy you can make squirm. He’s the kind that would shut down any attempt to get under his skin, the kind who would lash out rather than admit any kind of weakness. And yet, the thought of pushing him—of seeing just how far he’ll go to keep you—lights a fire in your chest.

That's what you will do. Push him until he can't hold off any longer.

Toying with Theo was a dangerous game to play, even if you knew that, but if he's just going to sit there and not make anything happen, then, fuck, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Yes, you could just do the normal thing and pull him aside for a conversation, but now, where's the fun in that?

The next day, arriving at charms class, you don't take your usual seat with Theo and your friends. Instead, you skip over and find a place next to Anthony Goldstein, a cute Ravenclaw boy, who you knew would piss Theo off.

"Morning", you smile at Anthony. He looks at you, confused but excited.

"Good morning," he returns, starting what would become a cheerful conversation. As you laugh and talk throughout the class, you quickly glance over at a visibly upset Theodore and a very wide-smiling pansy. She knew what you were doing, and Theodore was catching on, too.

Theo’s eyes are burning holes into the back of your head, and you can feel it. Every time you lean in a little closer to Anthony, let out a laugh that’s just a touch too loud; you know Theo’s watching. It’s exactly what you wanted—his attention, focus, and jealousy. But now that you have it, it’s making your skin prickle in anticipation in a way you hadn’t fully prepared for.

Anthony’s sweet, too sweet. He’s charming, and he’s kind, but he’s not Theo. There’s no edge to him, no danger. And while the conversation flows easily enough, your mind keeps drifting back to the boy brooding in the corner, whose eyes haven’t left you since the class began. You know he’s seething. Good. He should be. He warned you to keep away from any guy who could want something off you, but you weren’t getting enough out of Theo, so he pushed this out of you, you determine. 

As the class drags on, you notice the shift in the air. Theo’s presence feels suffocating, almost predatory like he’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. You can’t help but glance over again, meeting his gaze for just a second—long enough to see the storm brewing behind his eyes. His jaw is clenched, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, and for a second, you think he might snap right there in the middle of class, but he doesn’t. He’s controlled, as always. And that only frustrates you more.

You knew you were aggravating him. You have no idea what the consequences are; you have a feeling brewing in your chest that you would find out sooner than later. 

When your professor dismisses the class, you gather your things slowly, lingering by Anthony’s side, pretending not to notice the way Theo’s already standing by the door, waiting for you. Anthony smiles, oblivious, and asks if you’d like to walk to the Great Hall with him. You almost say yes, just to push Theo a little further, but before the words leave your mouth, you feel a hand wrap firmly around your wrist.

You turn to see Theo, his eyes dark and dangerous, staring down at you with a look that makes your heart race.

“We need to talk,” he says, his voice low and commanding.

You don’t even have a chance to respond before he’s tugging you out of the classroom, pulling you through the corridors, a man on a mission. You stumble to keep up, your mind racing to catch up with him, but there’s no mistaking the tension in the air now. He’s pissed. And maybe, just maybe, that’s exactly what you wanted.

When he drags you into a broom closet and slams the door behind you, your pulse is pounding in your ears. Theo’s still gripping your wrist, his fingers tight around your skin, and when he finally lets go, your breathe was still held tight, like he was the one who could allow you to exhale 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, his voice cold, but his eyes—God, his eyes are on fire.

You straighten up, refusing to back down. “What do you mean?”

Theo takes a step closer, his chest brushing against yours as he looms over you. “You know exactly what I mean,” he growls. “Sitting with Goldstein. Laughing with him. What was that, huh? Trying to make me jealous?”

You raise an eyebrow, refusing to show how much his proximity affects you. “Is it working?”

His jaw ticks, and for a moment, you think he might lose control. But then he surprises you—he leans in even closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You want to play games, fine. But you’re playing with fire, sweetheart. And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens next.”

Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes again. The tension between you is electric, and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his body is coiled, ready to snap. You know you’ve pushed him to the edge, but you’re not backing down now. Not when you’ve come this far.

“I think I can handle it,” you challenge, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough. It’s enough to break whatever restraint Theo’s been holding onto.

“Are you sure?” he stalks even closer, leaning down to you, his fingers forcing your face up to his all you can do it nod as an unexpected wave of shyness hits you. Your heart drops when you hear a gentle but quick knock on the door, please, you think no one interrupts what might just finally happen. You both look at the twisting door knob, silence falls. 

“Hey, it everything ok in here? It’s Anthony” your heart drops, Theo might spiral. 

His hands loop around you, pushing you behind him, opening the door, “Everything's just fine. You don’t go following girls into broom closets all the time, do you? Shes with me. Now fuck far off,” Theo replied, slamming the door in his face. 

You hear his footsteps quickly rush off  

He flicks the lock of the door so quickly, so quick to kiss you that anything you feel melts away, in an instant, his hands are on you, gripping your waist, pulling you against him with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. His lips crash against yours, rough and demanding, like he’s finally letting go of everything he’s been holding back. You don’t even have time to think before you kiss him back, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, harder, deeper.

It’s all heat and intensity, a wild storm brewing for far too long. Theo’s hands roam over your body, possessive and hungry, like he’s claiming every inch of you as his, his lips never leaving yours as his hands work quickly, almost frantically, to tug at the hem of your shirt. You gasp as his fingers brush against your skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Theo pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and hooded with desire.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice thick with possessiveness.

You nod, breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m yours.”

That’s all he needs to hear. In one swift motion, he lifts you onto a surface, everything happening so fast you dont even know what he’s sat you on; all you can focus on is his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt higher as he moves between your legs. His lips are on your neck now, kissing, biting, leaving marks that you know will be there tomorrow. 

Your hands fumble with his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. When you finally get it off, you run your hands over the hard planes of his chest, savouring the way his muscles tense under your touch. Theo groans against your neck, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave bruises. But you don’t care. You want more. You need more.

“Theo,” you gasp, arching your back as his lips trail lower, his hands working quickly to undo the buttons of your blouse. He doesn’t waste any time, pulling it off and tossing it aside before his mouth finds your skin again.

He’s everywhere—his hands, lips, teeth—and it’s all too much, not enough. You’re dizzy with it, consumed by him, by the way, he touches you like he’s been starving for it. For you.

He only stops for a second, his lips not far from yours but far enough to speak, “I can’t take you in a broom closet, alright? Let’s go to my dorm; you’ll be more comfortable” he quickly says, almost out of breath. 

“Theo” you mutter “You can take me anywhere. Here’s just fine, please, I can’t wait anymore, please, I don’t want to waste another second” you whine, quickly joining your lips together again. 

He doesn’t protest; when he finally pulls back, his breathing is ragged, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. “You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. “Fuck, no one else gets to touch you. Understand?”

You nod, your heart racing as you reach for him again, pulling him back to you. “Only you.”

And then his lips are on yours again, and there’s no going back this time.

Theo’s mouth crashes against yours with even more intensity, his hands gripping your hips as though he can’t stand the thought of being apart from you for even a second. It’s not just a kiss anymore—it’s a declaration of something raw and primal that neither of you have the strength to fight off any longer.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against you. You can feel the hard press of his body against yours, and it sends a wave of heat through you so intense it makes your head spin. His hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt, and your breath hitches as his fingers brush over the thin fabric of your underwear. You can feel the smirk on his lips as he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice rough, eyes dark with desire as they roam over your flushed face. “All worked up for me, and I’ve barely even touched you.”

You want to come up with some smart reply, something to challenge him, but all that comes out is a soft whimper as his fingers tease the edge of your underwear, barely grazing where you need him most. Your body arches and pulses into his touch, silently begging for more, and Theo’s smirk deepens.

“Patience,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll give you what you want, but you must tell me what you want.”

Your pride screams at you not to give in, not to let him have that satisfaction, but the ache between your legs is too much. You need him, now. So, you swallow your pride, your voice coming out in a shaky whisper.

“Please, Theo. Please”

“Tsk tsk tsk, please, what? Come on, words, sweet thing,”

“I need you to touch me Teddy, need to feel you” You practically whimper 

Your pleading seems to flip a switch in him, and suddenly his teasing stops. His fingers slip under the fabric, brushing against your soaked core, and you gasp, your head falling back as the sensation sends sparks shooting through your body

“Good girl,” he growls, his lips ghosting over the sensitive skin of your neck as his fingers begin to move in slow, deliberate circles. “So fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands grip his back exposed, your body trembling as his fingers work you over with an expert precision that makes it clear he’s been thinking about this for a long time. You can barely breathe, your mind going fuzzy from the overwhelming pleasure as Theo’s thumb presses against your clit, drawing out a moan that you can’t hold back.

“Look at you,” he mutters, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watches the way your body reacts to his touch. “Falling apart for me already. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers, send you spiralling closer and closer to the edge, your body tightening with the mounting tension. You can feel it building, coiling in your stomach like a spring ready to snap, and you know it’s only a matter of time before you fall over the edge.

Theo must sense it too, because his pace quickens, his fingers moving faster, harder, and his lips find yours again, swallowing your moans as you cling to him. Your entire body is on fire, the pleasure so intense it feels like you might break apart at any second, and then, finally, you do.

The it hits you like a wave, crashing over you with a force that steals the breath from your lungs. You cry out, your nails digging into Theo’s shoulders as your body trembles beneath him, completely lost in the sensation. Theo doesn’t let up, his fingers continuing their steady rhythm as he helps you ride out every last shudder of pleasure. You can’t help but sink your teeth into his shoulder.

By the time it finally fades, you’re left panting, your body limp and spent as you rest against the desk, your forehead pressed against Theo’s shoulder. He’s breathing hard too, his chest rising and falling in time with yours, but there’s a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he looks down at you.

“You’re mine,” he repeats, his voice a low growl as he brushes a strand of hair away from your flushed face. “No one else. Ever.”

You nod, still catching your breath, your heart racing in your chest. “Only yours,” you whisper, and you mean it.

Theo leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, and for a moment, the intensity between you softens. His hands, once rough and demanding, now hold you gently, tenderly, like he’s afraid of breaking you. And in this moment, you realise just how deep his feelings for you run, how much he’s been holding back.

“You don’t have to make me jealous to get my attention,” he murmurs against your lips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin. “You’ve had it from the start.”

You smile against his mouth, your hands sliding up to cup his face, pulling him into a deeper kiss. It’s softer now, slower, but no less intense. Because even though Theo might be possessive and a little rough around the edges, you know that this, you, means more to him than he’s ever let on.

“Let's go to my dorm, alright? Get you cleaned up,” he smiles, leading you out of the now very messy broom cupboard. To your surprise, Anthony is waiting for you a few metres up; Theo moves your body to the other side of him so that it is Theo that is closest to him. When you both walk straight past him he casually says, “Don’t worry about that piece of shit, Ravenclaw, I’ll fix him up tomorrow.” You wondered if that should worry you, not a problem for right now though, your mind still racing with lust and love. 

The next morning, you wake up with a warm, almost surreal feeling in your chest. Everything feels different, like the air’s lighter, the world softer, and it’s all because of him. Theo. Yesterday's intensity, the way his hands gripped you like he’d never let go, still lingers on your skin like a secret that only the two of you share. You stretch out on your bed, staring at the ceiling, letting the memories replay in your head. You can’t help but smile as your body remembers the feeling.

But then, of course, reality hits you in the form of Pansy bloody Parkinson.

She barges into the dorm room with all the subtlety of a troll, her arms full of bags from her morning Hogsmeade run. Merlin, that girl has a shopping addiction. "Good morning, sunshine," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she drops the bags onto her bed. "You’re glowing. What did you do? Save a baby unicorn?"

You roll your eyes, pulling the covers up to your chin, trying to hide the ridiculous grin that’s threatening to spill across your face. But Pansy, being Pansy, is like a bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out drama, and she narrows her eyes at you.

"Hold on," she says, pausing mid-unpacking, one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. "What is that look? That is not a ‘just got a full night’s sleep’ look. That is a someone rocked my world last night look."

You burst into laughter, but it’s the nerves that I’m hiding something kind of laugh, and Pansy’s eyes widen like she’s hit the jackpot.

"No fucking way." She abandons her bags completely, climbing onto your bed and sitting cross-legged before you. "Spill. Now."

You bite your lip, wondering how in Merlin's name you’re going to explain this without sounding completely insane. But then again, it’s Pansy. There’s no hiding anything from her, and part of you wants to tell her, to relive every second of it by saying it out loud. So, you do.

"It was Theo," you admit quietly, your heart racing as the words leave your mouth. "Yesterday. We… we hooked up."

Pansy’s jaw drops so hard you’re pretty sure you hear it hit the floor. "Theo? As in Theo Nott? The same Theo who’s been brooding over you for months and never made a move?"

You nod, feeling your face heat up under her gaze. "Yeah, that Theo."

For a moment, Pansy is entirely silent, just staring at you like she’s processing this monumental piece of information. Then, suddenly, she lets out a shriek so loud it probably wakes up half the castle.

"Holy shit!" she squeals, grabbing your hands and bouncing on the bed like an excited child. "I knew it! I fucking knew he had it bad for you! So? Was it amazing? Was he, like, all dominating and rough like I always imagined? Tell me everything!"

You laugh, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks as you think about last night—the way Theo touched you, the way he claimed you, like he’d been holding back for so long and finally couldn’t anymore.

"It was…" You pause, searching for the right word. "Intense. And, yeah, he was definitely possessive. He kept saying I was his."

Pansy squeals again, throwing herself back onto the bed dramatically. "I knew it! I knew that brooding, quiet thing was just a front. Ok, you’re my best friend you owe me the whole story, Don’t miss a detail."  as you explain step by step you watch her eyes widen and her smile grow

Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock on the door. Matteo and Blaise stroll in without waiting for an invitation, looking far too smug for your liking. Blaise immediately heads for Pansy’s bed, flopping down like he owns the place, while Matteo leans against the dresser, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"What’s with the giddy shrieks?" Blaise asks, raising an eyebrow. "You two plotting something evil this early in the morning? We haven’t even had breakfast yet"

Pansy rolls her eyes dramatically. "Oh, please. We don’t need to plot evil. It just comes naturally."

Matteo snickers, but his eyes flick to you, narrowing slightly. "Wait a minute… what’s going on? Why does she look all… flustered?"

Before you can even think of a response, Pansy, being the absolute traitor that she is, jumps in with, "Oh, didn’t you hear? Our girl here finally got some action. With Theo."

Matteo and Blaise both freeze, staring at you in shock. For a split second, there’s dead silence, and then, like a synchronised team, they both throw their heads back and shout, "Finally!"

Your eyes widen as Blaise shakes his head in disbelief. "I was starting to think you two would just brood at each other for the rest of eternity."

Matteo crosses the room, sitting on the edge of your bed and giving you a playful shove. "Took you long enough."

You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Can everyone just stop? This is mortifying."

"Mortifying?" Matteo laughs. "No, what’s mortifying is how long you two have been dancing around each other. Honestly, I’m just relieved one of you finally made a move."

Blaise leans back against Pansy’s bed, smirking. "Yeah, we’ve been placing bets on when it would happen. Matteo won, by the way."

You look up, horrified. "You’ve been betting on us?"

"Of course we have," Pansy says, grinning. "It’s been, like, the slowest burn of the century."

You sigh, but you can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips. As much as they’re embarrassing you right now, there’s something comforting in the way your friends are reacting—like they’ve all been rooting for this to happen as much as you have.

Blaise stands, giving you a teasing salute. "Well, I’ll leave you to bask in your post-Theo high. Just… try not to kill each other, yeah?"

Matteo follows him out the door, tossing one last look over his shoulder. "Finally."

Once they’re gone, you collapse back onto the bed, shaking your head. "I can’t believe them."

Pansy grins, lying next to you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I can. We’ve been watching this unfold for ages. I’m so happy for you."

“Thank you Pans”, you smile, turning as you lay closer next to her 

“Oh! I heard the most unusual thing this morning. Draco told me,” she starts 

“Go on” you giggle 

“That Anthony Goldstein practically crawled to the hospital wing this morning, black eye, bloody shirt, it seemed pretty ruff” she continued “wait, weren't you sitting by him just yesterday?” you remembered. 

Oh, Theo, he did indeed ‘take care of it’.

[nickfowlerrr]

everything comes out teenage petulance

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, talk of insecurities, talk of rejection, virgin!reader but no smut - just mentioned, mutual pining - requited love - leaning toward idiots in love, hurt/comfort, pet names (sweetheart, doll), happing ending per usual. if i’m missing something important, pls lmk!

words: 4.3k

aspen!!! it’s crazy you sent this bc i was just about to start writing a little bucky fic and what better gif to use than this 😌 lol seriously perfect timing! tysm 🥰🫶🏻

and another huge thank you to you, ray for helping me out with the final edit!! @whatever-lmaoo i appreciate you sm! 🫶🏻

notes: had an idea, saw this gif, and then bam! here we are. yes i was clearly listening to down bad while working on this, but i promise it is not as sad as the song! also this fic is insanely self indulgent and i’m not even a little bit sorry lol. i do hope you enjoy this, and thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so so appreciated! let me know your thoughts 🩵

You’re holding in the emotions threatening to spill out of you as you step off the elevator to the living quarters of the tower. You know no one else is here, everyone out on missions or gone for some downtime out of the city, but still, there are cameras everywhere and you don’t need your impending breakdown to be recorded.

You pull your slipping bra strap up your shoulder and mindlessly pull at the hem of your dress as you walk further into the darkened living room, your heels clicking on the floor as you go.

Your head is down as you near the kitchen so you don’t see the light radiating from the open fridge, but you hear it as the door closes loudly. You startle and whip your head to the kitchen, finding the one person you really don’t need seeing you in your current state staring over at you.

“Fuck, Bucky,” you breathe as you have a hand over your heart. His mouth is open as his eyes scan your body, roving up and down and making you feel even more self conscious than you were before. “What are you doing, I thought I was the only one here for the weekend?”

“Little early for Halloween, isn’t it?” He asks, ignoring your question.

Your brows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“You’re dressed like a clown, aren’t you?”

You’re essentially frozen as you take in his words. The fear that came over you at his surprise appearance had your self pity and consciousness forgotten for a moment but now it was back. And it was worse. You don’t do anything but stare at him for a second, you’re afraid if you speak or even try to move you will break down in tears and - fuck - you can feel your eyes welling as they begin to sting. You take a sharp breath and swallow hard, nodding once as your lips purse and you blink. You turn stiffly and walk away without a response.

He’s right behind you, though and you don’t make it two steps before Bucky grabs your arm.

“Wow, hey, come on, I was joking,” he breathes a disbelieving laugh as he tries to turn you toward him.

You fight him and pull your arm away, “okay,” you huff, just wanting to get away from him before the dam really breaks.

He lets you go but trails behind you as you walk faster down to your room.

You push your door open and don’t turn around as the tears finally begin to fall, trying to shut the door behind you without having to look at him.

He sticks his foot in front of the door as you try shutting it and keeps it open.

“Go away,” you nearly growl through tears, your voice sounding tight and if he hadn’t already caught on to your crying, there was really no way to deny it now.

He doesn’t say anything but he does push your door open enough to slip through it. It falls shut as you stand with your back to him, sniffling and trying desperately to stop the flow of tears that are drowning you, arms crossed over your chest as you work to control your breathing. You just want him to leave you alone so you can cry in peace.

“Look, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, I really didn’t mean it, I was just kidding,” he begins softly, “but you and I both know I’ve said worse to you before, so,” he hedges, “maybe it wasn’t what I said that made you cry…”

“I dont wanna talk about it, Bucky. Why are you even here? Just leave me alone,” your voice trembles despite yourself.

He sighs heavily and you see him from your mirror as he runs a hand through his hair and takes a cautious step closer to you, “Yeah,” he breathes, “I dont think I’m gonna be able to do that, sweetheart.”

You bristle at the petname and can’t help the sob that leaves you as the reminder of how your date went tonight plays in your head.

“Go away,” you whine as more tears fall and you try to turn further from him - as if that were possible. Your eyes squeeze shut in a futile attempt to stop crying, a pathetic pout on your lips as you try to stifle your sobs.

A gentle pull on your arms has you turning around, you don’t have it in you to stop him as Bucky gingerly pulls you closer. You’re too embarrassed to open your eyes as you cry harder and when you feel his strong arms around you, holding you to him, the tears only come faster. You feel yourself lean into him as you mindlessly bury your face in his chest, hugging him tight like he’s the only thing keeping you upright.

His warm hand is rubbing up and down your back as your walls continue to crumble around him.

“It’s not fair,” you blubber like a child into his shirt.

He doesn’t respond, waiting for you to continue as he keeps rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you, his brows furrowing as he wonders what could’ve happened tonight to cause this.

He’s never seen you this way and he hates it - hates that you’re upset and crying, anyway. The way you feel in his arms, holding onto him like this, well that’s a different story…

He’s keeping his anger at bay until he knows exactly what went down, but he knows you had a date tonight, and the only reason he’s here when he had plans to be out of town this weekend is because you were going to have the place to yourself, and he couldn’t get the idea of you bringing your date back here alone out of his head. Immature, sure, but he didn’t know what else to do but wait around to scare whoever it was you were out with away before they had a chance to so much as see you out of your shoes.

He’s even more grateful now that he decided to change his plans last minute. He was surprised to see you coming in alone, and if he wasn’t so caught up in how damn good you looked tonight, he probably would’ve noticed your mood before he decided to open his stupid mouth. But that’s your thing; the teasing, the bickering, the tit for tats. He was expecting a jab right back, but when he saw your eyes watering at his words, he felt sick. He couldn’t let you walk away crying, he couldn’t stand to see you so upset. Especially because of him. But now, as you stand here in his arms, so uninhabited and vulnerable, he knows it wasn’t because of him. And when he finds out exactly what or who it was that made you so upset… god help them.

“It’s not fair,” you mumble your cry again, “I just,” you hiccup, “why can’t I be pretty,” you sob.

It’s takes a second for the words to register before Bucky can react. “What?” he questions harshly, pulling you away from him, his hands on your arms as your tear streaked face and bleary eyes peer up at him.

Your eyes squeeze shut again as your crying continues and you fall into him again, not wanting to look at him as you make your confession. “I just want,” you cry, “to be pretty. I want someone to like me. To love me,” you eke out, your heartbreak evident in your voice. “No one loves me,” you mutter defeatedly. “No one’s ever loved me and no one is ever gonna love me,” you sob, grabbing his shirt as you cry into his chest harder.

“What exactly did this asshole say to you?” Bucky knows he needs to calm down but what he’s hearing from you right now is going to drive him insane. Why in the world would you ever say or think this about yourself? Your date had to have done or said something, he’s sure of it.

“Nothing,” you dismiss, “I mean, nothing wrong or mean. They were nice about it, I just,” you can’t help but cry more. “I’m not their type. Which is fine,” you try to shake your head and rationalize yourself into stopping crying, “that’s fine, I know I’m not everyone’s type,” you gesture vaguely down your body, “and I wasn’t super into them, either, I was just trying to put myself out there for once and I just, ugh,” you bemoan. “I dont know why I was expecting anything different. It’s never been different, won’t ever be different. I’m just, me. And they said what everyone always thinks, I’m a sweetheart, I’m just not their type,” you shrug before your tears bubble up once more and you let your face fall back into Bucky’s chest.

“If I was skinny, or pretty, or nicer,” you babble before Bucky cuts you off.

“Doll, stop it,” he orders firmly, surprising you as he suddenly lifts you effortlessly off your feet and has you clinging to him as he walks the short distance to sit you on your bed.

You’re stunned silent as tears continue to roll down your cheeks and even more surprised as Bucky kneels before you, making sure you’re looking him in his clear blue eyes. His gaze is intent and penetrating and you couldn’t look away if you wanted to. He’s so close…he’s never been this close to you before and you feel your breath trapped in your chest as you watch him.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” he says seriously, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and you’re an idiot for ever thinking otherwise.

His sincerity has your stomach twisting and your shame and disbelief has your tears falling again.

Your lips quiver as your pout remains, and you shake your head.

“Don’t do that,” he admonishes, hand gently grabbing your chin and making you look at him again. You swallow hard at the soft touch and the tenderness in his eyes. “Hear me when I say this, doll. You are absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way you are. Fuck ‘type’.”

You wince at his words, and you can’t help but look away again. It’s easy for him to say, he’s goddamn gorgeous and everyone knows it.

“I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but you really just don’t get it,” you shake your head. “You could walk down the street and get anybody you wanted with one look,” you smirk softly. “You’re everybody’s type.”

“You don’t need to be anyone’s ‘type’, sweetheart,” he says.

“Yeah, and I’m not,” you reiterate harshly before taking a breath, not wanting to work yourself up again. This is stupid and you know it and it feels even more mortifying to be talking about this with not only the most attractive man you’ve ever known, but also the man you’ve been down bad for for so long. Deep down you know you don’t really care what most anyone else thinks, there’s really only one person you care about not finding you attractive, and you’ve worked to get over that sting of unrequital for a long while now, but fuck, everything just feels so heavy tonight. It’s not even that it’s just not him, which still gets to you every time you’re reminded of it, it’s that it’s not anyone.

And it’s not that you even want anyone else… you don’t, but knowing there’s really no one interested in you, the very real prospect of being alone forever, it got to you tonight…

“You don’t know that,” he says lowly.

“Bucky,” you roll your eyes, not only in annoyance, but also to keep the threatening renewal of tears at bay.

“So what you’re not some random person you don’t even like’s type,” he dismisses, placing his hands on your thick thighs as he stays kneeled before you, and you aren’t sure if he even realizes he’s doing it as his thumbs rub there softly, “you’re my type,” he defends.

You could curl up into a ball right now and die, there is no way you’re this fucking pathetic you have Bucky Barnes on his knees trying to convince you he thinks you’re pretty. As if this night couldn’t get any worse or more embarrassing.

You’ve seen the people Bucky has brought back here before. He certainly had a type, and you are certainly not it.

“You don’t have to say that, Bucky,” you blink away from his gaze. “It’s nice that you feel bad for me,” you sniffle, wiping at your tears with the sleeves of your dress, “but you really don’t have to.”

“Why do you think I feel bad for you?” He questions, moving to look you in the eyes once more, his confusion clear on his face.

You shrug, turning your head to again avoid eye contact, “I’m pathetic,” you laugh sardonically, wiping at the tears still slipping, slower now but still evident.

“You’re pathetic?,” Bucky chuckles, his soft touches on your thighs ceaseless. He bites his lip as he glances down to his hands, spreading his fingers wide before he squeezes you a bit, and if you aren’t reading into it, you’d say he seems the slightest bit nervous, his hold on you as much to try to comfort you as it is to comfort him, “I’m the one who bailed on guys weekend just to make sure you didn’t bring anyone home tonight,” he admits, causing you to finally look him in the eye again. What did he just say? You’re baffled and it’s evident as your brows furrow and you frown. He continues, “Or if you did, to make sure they wouldn’t stay long,” he half smirks, half grimaces.

“What?” you breathe out.

“Not the most mature move, I know, but,” he says, running a hand through his hair before he rubs the back of his neck, having the decency to at least be a little embarrassed by his plan. “The thought of you with someone else…anyone else,” he shakes his head. “I can’t stand it.”

You can’t possibly be hearing what you’re hearing, right? You don’t move or speak for a long moment as you try to make sense of what Bucky’s saying to you because clearly you’re not hearing correctly.

“You can’t stand…” you process aloud, “the idea of me being with someone?”

He breathes a laugh as you stare at him dumbly, his nervous habit of pushing his long hair back from his face shines again while he chuckles. “Doll, I can’t stand the idea of you being with anybody who isn’t me,” he clarifies.

“What are you-?” you shake your head, “What do you mean?”

His big hands return to your thighs as he gently squeezes you. “I mean that if you had come home with someone tonight, I would’ve made sure they didn’t stay more than a minute to say goodbye.”

You snort a laugh, wiping another tear from your cheek. That’s crazy.

“Please. ‘M not that kinda girl anyway, Buck,” you say. “I uhm,” you clear your throat, clearly a little uncomfortable with what you’re about to say, but fuck, you’ve already embarrassed yourself this much tonight, what’s a little more confessing gonna hurt, “I’ve never…done, anything. With anyone.” You admit, looking down at your hands in your lap.

It’s a moment before Bucky speaks again.

“Never?”

You shake your head slowly side to side, lips pursed, “No,” you murmur.

“That’s impressive,” he breathes.

You quirk a brow at his response.

“Mean, you gotta be batting people off like crazy,” he says, his warm hand once resting on your thigh now thoughtlessly trailing down the soft skin of your leg.

“No,” you state slightly annoyed and ever embarrassed. “Not like anyone’s ever been interested,” you trail off.

Bucky laughs again, not so nervous now, more in disbelief, “You’re so blind,” he muses, “I feel so bad for everyone who has ever been interested in you.”

Your face shows your taken offense but Bucky keeps talking before you can say a word about it.

“If you really think no one’s ever been attracted to you, you’re fucking crazy, sweetheart.”

You gape like a fish for a millisecond, opening and closing your mouth as you blink down at your thighs, his metal hand holding your right thigh softly and the fingers of his right hand dancing along the exposed skin of your left.

“I’m not crazy,” you mutter as his hand slips higher up your leg.

“You are,” he argues lightly, “and you make me crazy,” he says softer, blue eyes gleaming up at you. “Have you not heard a word I’ve said tonight?” He pauses, debating on whether or not he wants to say what he’s about to say before he decides to throw caution to the wind and finally admit his true feelings to you, as clearly as he possibly can this time. “You’re all I ever think about. Not just because of how pretty you are, either,” he smirks, growing more confident now and loving the way you react to his touch as his hands smooth along your soft thighs, goosebumps rising in his wake as he hears your breathing stutter. “It’s so much more than that,” he breaths in, “it’s every single thing about you. Your snark,” he smiles, “your strength. Your bravery, your stubbornness. Your lame jokes,” he pauses to admire the slant of your lips as you fight a soft smile, “your laugh. Your kindness, your friendship. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever known. The whole damn package, doll. And that’s without even bringing looks into it, because fuck,” he scoffs, “it’s a real shame you don’t see what everyone else sees.”

You dare a glance back at his penetrative gaze, “…And what, exactly, is that?” you reply timidly, but desperately wanting to hear his answer.

“A real life goddess,” he admires as he leans closer to you, his hands now well under the hem of your dress as they inch further and further up your thighs.

Your stomach is in a flurry as a tingle sparks inbetween your legs at his touch.

He leans up to you slowly, testing your waters as he gets closer and closer to your lips. You’re barely breathing when his nose brushes yours and you take a shaky breath when his hands leave your thighs and come to gently hold your face.

“You’re insanely pretty, and likable, and lovable, and you don’t need to be skinny for anyone to find you attractive. You’re gorgeous, inside and out. And I don’t wanna hear you talking about yourself like you were ever again, you hear me?” He questions quietly, intent but caring as he holds your glistening gaze in his.

You nod lightly, knowing tonight you weren’t your typical self. You had a hard night, and you let those old mean, destructive and intrusive thoughts get to you. You really do know better, but you’re human. And everybody has those days. You’re suddenly feeling even more grateful for Bucky’s unexpected presence tonight. If he wasn’t here, you’re sure you’d have spent the night in a spiral of self hatred and pity and would’ve probably cried yourself to sleep.

Your tears are dry now, though. And Bucky is still so close, his touch so gentle as his brilliant blue eyes swim with his care for you. You’ve seen it before, but it’s never felt so real and intimate as it does now, knowing what you know now.

He’s here tonight because of you. For you.

He’s not expecting anything, and you’re not sure how much you’re ready to give, but as he smiles that lopsided smile at you, you can’t help yourself as you lean into him, too. It’s slow and cautious as your lips brush his, and then you let your eyes flutter closed as you finally kiss him. It’s almost embarrassing how many times you’ve dreamed of kissing Bucky, but none of them played out like this, none of them ever came close. His lips are soft, his hands firm as he holds your face and you readily let him lead you as he kisses you back.

It ends all too quickly as he pulls away slightly, his tongue slipping past his lips as he savors the taste of you, his forehead touching yours as he maintains your closeness.

“And just for the record, I don’t think you look like a clown,” he shakes his head while you let out a quiet laugh. “I think your makeup looks great, and this dress,” he sighs with a near groan, moving his hands to settle on your wide hips, squeezing ever so slightly, sending more sparks to light in your core as you almost mewl at his touching, “I know you know you look good,” he smirks. “I was just being stupid wanting your attention.”

“Well,” you start with a slight eye roll, “I mean, who could really blame you?”

He smiles brightly at that, his laugh warming you as he leans in to kiss you again. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Your girl?” You ask, a near whisper as his words have your heart skipping a beat, eyes still closed from the kiss before you slowly blink them open. He nods.

“If you wanna be,” he breathes, blue eyes bearing into yours. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to finally admit how crazy I am for you without making myself look like a complete idiot,” he simpers, his signature smirk on display, “obviously didn’t avoid that, but, now you know. I’m crazy about you, doll.” His thumb rubs your cheek softly as he keeps you close, “I wanna be with you,” he breathes, “in any way you’ll have me. So, if you wanna be my girl,”

You smile softly, nodding as you cut him off, “I wanna be.”

You see his toothy smile before Bucky kisses you hotly as he surges up without warning, hoisting you up with him as you squeak into his mouth, arms clinging around his neck as his own hold you under your bottom. His strength is so effortless it surprises you for a second, but in an instant you get more comfortable in his hold as he continues kissing you. His smile grows on his lips as you kiss him back in kind until you’re forced to break away for a breath.

“I’m not happy you were so upset earlier,” he says as he catches his breath, forehead pressing to yours as you tuck his falling hair behind his ears while he holds you, “but I’m so fucking glad you came back here alone.”

“Well, I’m not happy you were trying to ambush me,” you joke, “but I’m really glad you were here tonight,” you whisper the words as your hands play in his hair, noses brushing, you’re still so close.

You’re staring into each other’s eyes until your gaze falls to his lips. Bucky kisses you again, so much softer than he did before.

“Me too,” he whispers softly. You smile and then pat his shoulders. He gets your message and gently lets you go as your heels touch the floor.

“I know it’s late,” he starts, closing the small distance between you as he takes a step closer, not wanting to be too far from you, already missing your proximity, “but you were expecting a nice date tonight, and you didn’t get one,” he sighs, “I just don’t think that’s right,” he exhales with that ‘hear me out’ purse of his lips. You eye him expectantly, fighting a smile as you wait for him to get it out.

“What do you think about catching a movie and grabbing food at that place you like? With me,” he adds as if it wasn’t obvious, earning a bright laugh from you for the first time tonight. “It’s a Saturday, so you know they’re open late anyway,” he rambles.

You lean into him with your shoulder as you stand so close to each other, getting his attention back on your face as you smile. “I would really like that, Bucky,” you nod. “I’m just gonna,” you wave a hand around your face, “fix this up a bit.”

He laughs as he rubs a streak of black from under your eye, “still beautiful,” he simpers.

Your entire body warms at his touch and his admiration as you grab his hand gently in yours and pull him closer. He seems to read your mind as his arms circle you and he leans in to take your lips in his.

It’s sweet and so natural it’s hard to believe you guys hadn’t done this sooner. The friendship was always there, but you never knew the feelings were too. All this time you convinced yourself your harbored feelings for Bucky were unreciprocated, and all the while, he was trying to figure out how to confess his own to you.

You laugh quietly into the kiss, amusement playing on your lips as you think back on every encounter you’ve had with Bucky that had you falling harder and harder for him.

“What’s funny?” He asks as you part with a grin.

“It’s just, all so obvious now,” you giggle. “I always thought I was reading into things with you, that you were just being nice, just wanted to be friends,” you trail off, swaying closer to him in your heels. “But, this whole time,” you blink up at him, lips parted gently as he keeps your body to his, holding you close.

“This whole time,” he simpers, a soft smile on his lips. “What the hell took us so long?”

“Uhm,” you muse aloud, “probably our combined stupidity,” you joke as he chuckles, his smile never wavering as he keeps his eyes on you, “but, let’s just call it fate,” you shrug on a soft exhale. You lean closer to Bucky even more, letting your lips brush his again, the feeling one you don’t think you’ll ever tire of, “no better time than the present, right?”

[thetriumphantpanda]

Take My Breath Away | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Breath Play

Chapter Summary | It's the overthinking that makes it hard to ask for what you want sometimes, so you ask for the thing you want most in the only way you know how - in the heat of the moment.

Chapter Warnings | Again, and as always, porn without plot. Dirty talk, fingering, unprotected PiV sex, creampie, breath play (sexual choking), peeing after sex (pls do this), softness and lots of love. No outbreak AU. No use of y/n.

Word Count | 2k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Oh my god what is this? Charlie finishing another series? I cannot tell you how sad I am to be saying goodbye to these two - they have turned into the two greatest loves of my life. Thanks are due to @vickywallace for sending this idea into my inbox in the first place - thank you for such a wonderful idea and for supporting this series! If you like this then please considering reblogging or commenting, it makes my life worth living! And if you'd like to support me further you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that whilst this is part of a wider series, this can be read as a standalone if you wish.

Beautiful divider by @saradika

I no longer have a taglist, to keep up to date with my work, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

It started innocently enough. Joel’s big palm resting at your collarbone when he was inside you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. It was a fleeting moment, no added pressure, but there was still a shot of thrill that settled across you, one that made you think of that little list and the thought in the back of your mind that you wanted him to push his hand a little higher and press.

How to ask for it properly had been playing on your mind for a little while. It’s not like the two of you weren’t open with each other, you’d proved that already. And you trusted Joel with your life, you know he wouldn’t hurt you. But each night, when you sit together on the couch and go to open your mouth to talk about it, nothing happens. Mainly because it feels inconsequential to you, does it need a big conversation like some of the other things? You don’t think so.

It happens about a week later. Friday night, dinner eaten, glass of whisky drunk in front of the TV. Joel is settled on his back, glasses perched on the end of his nose as he reads a book, you’re similar, but you’re restless. You’re reading some romance novel, and like clockwork, the two love interests have just turned up to the hotel to find there’s only one bed. They don’t really hate each other anymore, and in his sleep, he’s rolled over and draped an arm over her waist, chest to her back, and she can feel how much he wants her.

You scoff a little, which pulls Joel’s attention from his own reading, to you, “That bad huh?” He asks, innocently enough.

“Just predictable.” You shrug, trying to hide the way your thighs are unconsciously rubbing together under the sheets.

“Lemme guess,” He says, setting down his own book, along with his glasses, “They hate each other, but also secretly they don’t, and they’ve just turned up to the hotel and they have to share a bed?”

You turn to him, chuckling as you look at the front and back cover, “Have you read this before?”

“No baby,” He chuckles, “It’s just they’re all the same, if it ain’t that then it’s somethin’ forbidden or she’s too happy and he’s too grumpy, just a lucky first guess.”

There’s a little more talking, and then the lights turn off, Joel turning on his side to fall asleep, but there’s that deep throb between your thighs that no matter what you do, won’t go away.

“Joel?” You whisper, poking at his arm, listen to him grumble but ultimately not reply, “Joel?” You whisper again, a little louder.

“Yes, baby?” It’s soft when he talks, not annoyed at you for keeping him awake.

“Joel, I need you.” You whisper once more.

You can hear the rustle of the sheets as he turns, then his arm wrapping around your waist, tugging you into his chest, that hand of his wandering down to cup your ass, “You feelin’ needy, baby?” He asks lowly, pressing kisses to your forehead and then your cheek until he’s kissing your mouth.

You roll onto your back, gripping onto his naked shoulders so he follows, the entire weight of his body on yours until he rests his upper body on his elbows, hands pushing your hair back from your face as he settles himself between your thighs. You can feel him, pressing against that part of you, already semi-hard and wanting, like he was struggling just as much as you to go to bed without touching you.

“You needy for me too?” You ask innocently as his lips press to your neck, he doesn’t answer, just slowly rolls his hips into yours.

There’s a moment where he reaches down between the two of you, lets his fingers brush over your folds, dipping down slightly to find you already wet. It’s not a surprise for either of you anymore, you think that there’s always some level of slickness settling between your legs whenever you see him - still not quite believing you get him all to yourself.

Joel drags his fingers up to your clit, slick dragging across your bud of nerves, a soft whimper leaving your mouth as he gently circles it. He’s taking his time, working you up slowly because he knows you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning. In a few minutes, you’re already moving your hips in time with his fingers, his mouth kissing your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin too. You’re clutching at his shoulders, nails digging half-moon shapes into his skin, when he pulls his hand away.

You’d complain until you can feel what he’s doing - his fist tight around his cock, moving up and down as he positions himself at the entrance of your cunt, tip nudging there as his mouth comes to cover your own. You’re just opening your mouth to him when he slips himself inside, slowly edging further and further inside you until he’s sheathed in your tight heat and you’re moaning into his open mouth.

He’s slow with it at first, a gentle drag of his cock in and out of you, like he’s got all the time in the world. Every time he presses into you, he moans into your mouth a little, sighs when he drags back out and it’s perfect, but you know you need more. You reach out, circle his big wrist with your hand.

“Will you…” You trail off a little, “Will you do something for me?”

He stills inside you, tip of his cock pressed so deep you could cry, “Anything for you, honey.”

“Will you put your hand on my neck?” Your voice is timid, and you’re glad you’ve kept the lights off.

There’s enough moonlight drifting in through the blinds that don’t close properly that you can still see him, but he’s shrouded in shadows too. He’s careful when he moves, pushing himself up to rest on one palm that’s pressed net to your head, the other hand being dragged exactly where you want it. He lets you rest it where you’re comfortable, just at the base, right above your collarbone.

“You tap my arm three times if you want me to stop, okay?” He asks, finally dragging his cock back out of you.

He puts a little pressure on with his hand when he thrusts back into you. The pressure is nice, but there’s something about it that doesn’t feel right, so you do exactly as he says, tap his arm three times. Joel is quick to take his hand off you, but you grab it quickly enough that he doesn’t have chance to rest it back on the bed.

“Try it a little higher.” You suggest, pulling it back so that the pad of his thumb and middle finger are pressed into the skin just under your ear.

“Like this?” He asks quietly as he repeats his movements from before, adding a tiny bit of pressure to your neck as he pushes back into your slick cunt, and yes, you think, exactly like that.

Joel keeps his hand pressed there for a few of his movements before he lightens the pressure on your throat, letting you catch your breath but keeping that wide palm resting right where you asked for it to be.

It’s a sensation you never thought you’d enjoy so much, but every time Joel’s palm tightens around your throat, there’s a rush to your brain and a throb between your legs. It’s exhilarating and there’s something about the way you trust him, literally with your life right now, to know exactly what you want and how to give it to you.

“You like that, don’t ya?” Joel rasps out above you, hips snapping into yours.

He releases the pressure from your neck again, just enough for you to be able to nod your head and bite at your lip to try and stop yourself from grinning. Joel brings the hand from your neck up to your mouth, uses the pad of his thumb to drop your lip from your mouth.

“I wanna see that smile baby.”

So you do as he says - caught in the dance of his palm pressing against your throat, your mouth falling into a grin each time, sometimes a small giggle leaving your mouth as you do, and then the release of the pressure, back and forth like that until you can feel that coil tightening low in your belly, your own hips bucking to meet his own, desperate to come apart beneath him.

“You gonna come, baby?” He asks, palm tightening once more, you can feel your walls fluttering around him, the coil pulled tight, you’re not going to last much longer, “That’s okay, I got you baby, just let go for me.”

It’s always been his voice that does it for you - the gentle lilt of that southern drawl, the way he’s always taking care of you. The coil snaps, his hand tightening just a little further as you arch up into him, much dropping open in a silent scream as pleasure floods every nerve ending in your body. You’re mildly aware of him talking you through it, showering praise over you as his own hips start to falter, hand finally torn from your neck, both of his palms settled on the mattress beside your head as he fucks you for real now.

The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room, Joel’s ragged groans mixed with your own squeals, not quite recovered from your orgasm. You reach your hands up, settle them on his sides and look up at him.

“Want you…” You choke out, “Come inside me, Joel.”

He groans, low in his chest, body shaking as his hips stop. He lets out a moan of your name as you feel his cock throb inside you, the familiar warmth of his cum spilling inside you. Joel’s body falls forward, crowding yours as he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth warm as he kisses you.

You both stay like that for a while, breathing heavy until you feel his softening cock slip from you. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him so you’re leaning against his sweat-slicked chest, fingers drawing patterns through the hair there.

Eyes filled with love, you look at him, give him a small smile as he brings a hand to your neck, tracing where his fingers had been pressing, “Looks red, baby,” His voice is gravelly, thick with sleep, “Was it okay?”

Taking hold of his wrist, you drag his hand up to your mouth and press kisses to his palm. The hand he has around your back drags you up a little and then he’s manoeuvring himself so his mouth can press kisses on the two finger marks he’s left on your skin. You think this might be the way you love him most, soft and sated, gentle and loving.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” You whisper at him, “Stay right here okay?”

Joel reluctantly lets you go. You curse him every time you have to walk down the hall to the bathroom for not buying a home all those years ago with an en-suite, especially when, by the time you come back, he’s flat out on his back, lightly snoring.

You take a moment to stand in the doorway, look at him painted in moonlight. He’s beautiful like this, none of those worries he has etched on his face. You love him, more than you’ve ever loved anyone before.

Padding quietly over to the bed, you settle under the sheets, draping an arm over his middle, your head pillowed on his shoulder. In his sleep, he pulls you further into his body, arm over your shoulder, other hand resting on the arm you have draped across his tummy. If this is what peace feels like, then long let it last.

[hobicakess]

PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

[catcze]

oh btw i know that a werewolf is a pretty obvious pick for your newest man but he does look like he'd make for a great vampire who has to actively resist the urge to feed on you because "your blood is... so sweet... and you're so... enticing... just a taste, please..."

or not! who knows ehe <3

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 A little suggestive due to the intimate nature of blood drinking, but nothing sexual or even leading up to any sexual activity happens. That being said, if ur bothered by Wrio finding the reader tasting delicious + Reader enjoying being drank from a lot, maybe dont read;;; this is 2k words of non-sexual intimacy and love and trust !!

I have a confession;;;; I really really really love the vampire x human trope,,,,,, even just a teeny tiny bit more than I do the werewolf x human trope,,,, so,,,,, SO,,,,,,,,,, vamp! Wrio is setting all kinds of good signals off in my brain rn;;;;;;; i have;;;;;; many;;;;; many thoughts;;;; ON MY HANDS AND KNEES DONT LET THIS FLOP PLS 💔💔💔

You're on his lap. Wriothesley's on his chair, hands practically clawing into the armrests. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd rip it. His eyes don't know where to look— they flit around every inch of his office, avoiding your own. But they always end up glancing back at your neck no matter how much he tries to pry them away.

He gulps.

"You're hungry."

"I'm not," he immediately denies, ignoring the way his fangs ache at just being able to smell your blood so close.

You frown. "You haven't eaten in a week, Wrio."

"I have—"

"Animal blood doesn't count. That shit can only work for so long, and you know it."

He swallows, hands clenching even tighter, nails digging into leather armrests. He looks away from you, rendered silent.

You watch him as how he tries to ignore you. Delicately, you place a hand on his cheek, urging his eyes back to meet yours.

"Why don't you just ask me?" You murmur. "You know I'd say yes. You know I'd do anything for you."

His face twists. "That's the problem," Wriothesley says bitterly, teeth clenched. Even from here, from the limited view you have past the curl of his lip, you see how his sharp fangs gleam. "I— if I drink from you, I won't want anything else. Ever. I already have a hard enough time just being around you, but if i get even just a taste..." he trails off, swallowing. "You're all I'm going to crave, sweetheart."

Wriothesley expects you to pause or hesitate. Maybe even extract yourself from him. He wouldn't blame you. Ever since the first time his thoughts betrayed him and he wondered what you'd taste like on his tongue (honey and nectar and heaven and ambrosia, all in one) he's been so careful to hide how he hungers for you, lest you think he's a monster who'd hurt you for his own gain.

In an ideal world, you never would have had to see him like this— starving, thirsting. Every single cell in his body urging him to get on his knees and beg you for just a taste. He'd get the fear and the apprehension, even though it'd crack a little piece of his cold, unbeating heart.

But you just roll your eyes and unbutton the collar of your shirt. leaning down so the side of your neck is right within his sight. His mouth dries as the thump of your pulse comes ever closer, freezing him in place.

"You're not going to hurt me," you say, conviction in your voice. You inch closer.

Wriothesley feels another part of his self restraint collapse.

Against his better judgement, he's actually thinking about it now. He crumbled so fast that it might be a little pathetic, he knows. Maybe his mind is addled from the hunger, maybe he's addled by his hunger for you, but he knows that he's fraying with every millisecond that you spend so close.

"No, not— not there," He protests quietly, even though he's itching to reach out and sink his teeth into your pulse. Fuck, you smell delicious up close. He's damn near losing his mind here, the object of his love and the greatest temptation to his gluttony practically sitting on his lap, offering up something that he's craved for so long. Still, he gathers what bits and pieces of his restraint that he can and manages to gently nudge you back, just enough that he can think without being driven mad by the idea of his mouth on your neck.

The protest is already ready on your tongue, but he takes a gentle hold of your wrist instead, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin, and the pulse under his fingers makes the emptiness in his stomach increases tenfold.

"Here," he tells you. "It'll be easier to push me away if you need to."

You say nod, pushing your wrist closer to his mouth. "Drink up," you tell him. He pushes away his hesitation, and with one last lingering kiss, he presses his mouth to your wrist and bites.

And fuck, he was right.

Heaven and sunlight and euphoria bursts on his tongue, making his brain practically short circuit. Wriothesley concludes then and there that compared to you, anything and everything else he's ever tasted was bland in comparison. He can barely even attempt to describe it— with each drop you willingly give, his hunger is both sated and amplified. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and a whimper muffled into your skin.

When you hum, warm fingers carding through his hair and urging him to take more, he feels like he ascends. Acting on instinct, his arm snakes around your middle to hold you in place— to keep you close. His grip on you is firm, but he's careful not to dig his fingers too hard into your skin.

And as much as this is affecting him, it's affecting you too. Your head grows light in the best way possible, like you're experiencing a euphoric high. You scratch a bit harder at his scalp, pulling a desperate noise from his lips that makes you tremble in his hold. You'll sit here for as long as he needs to feel better, for as long as he needs you.

Quicker than you would have wanted, Wriothesley reluctantly pulls away. By then the color's only just started to come back to his face and he's panting like he's been on a brisk jog. He looks much less sickly, yes, but you observe with a frown that he's still not quite yet at tip-top shape.

Hesitantly, almost reverently, he presses a kiss to the wound on your wrist, then gives the smallest of licks. it tingles, but after a moment the sting of it fades to a dull throb, and then nothing. But before he can push you off, you're leaning down again, same position as before, with your neck in his line of view. An open invitation.

"You need to drink more," you murmur. You try to ignore the rush of blood in your face, the tingle in your core. For as much as he was scared of getting addicted to you, you fear now you're getting addicted to him, too.

"I shouldn't," Wriothesley says, barely above a whisper.

He should push you off— should let you rest. Should wrap you in his coat and get you some water and a snack after you've already let him drink so much of you.

It had been hard enough to resist earlier, but now? Your blood is pumping so hard he can practically hear it. And you taste so sweet. You had made the slightest of noises when he fed on you— he doubts you even realized it, what with the haze you were in. Just the smallest of whines when he drank from your wrist, but each breathy sigh and whisper of his name was enough to make him crave more.

A small, traitorous corner of his mind wonders if you'd be even more vocal with his teeth on your neck.

He swallows, knowing he's already fighting a losing battle. He's so, so weak for you. His one arm doesn't budge from around your waist, but his hand moves up to cup your cheek. He drags your eyes to meet his, and you can see the seriousness amidst the hunger.

"You tell me if anything hurts." Wriothesley's arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. "Anything. Please."

You hum, happy, nuzzling closer into the cradle of his grip. "Okay. I know you'll stop if I ask." And oh the faith you have in him has heat pooling in his gut and a foreign pressure grow behind his eyes.

His voice is hoarse he says, "Yeah sweetheart. Of course I will."

He comes close and you shift your head, giving him more space to work. First thing he does isn't even bite— he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with kisses and licks and nips, delighting in the small protest of 'that tickles!' that he elicits from you.

You let him shower you in affection a little bit more, but eventually your hand works into his hair, tugging. "Okay, no more stalling," you say, breathless. "C'mon, time to eat."

And he's still nervous of taking too much— can feel his stomach roil at just the thought of hurting you, but he trusts you. Trusts you as much as you trust him, too. So he takes another deep breath, presses one last tender kiss to your skin, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

A small whisper of him name escapes our throat just as a groan leaves him because fuck— you taste even better. Flavor multiplied times what feels like a hundred, making his cold cold heart do flips and tricks in his chest. The hand you bury in his hair tugs, pulls, but brings him closer instead of away. You push him further into you, begging him to take more, and he happily obliges.

Wriothesley presses kisses and licks to your neck between drinking down mouthfuls, making sure not to waste a single drop. He's pulling you against his chest so tightly— hand bunched in the back of your top that you fear he might rip the fabric, but you decide that you don't really care if he does.

With each drink he takes, each satisfied, muffled noise that leaves him, you feel yourself melt more and more against him until you're boneless in his hold. Despite how he drinks as if it's his last, he still has the good mind to shift you a bit higher in his lap, to make sure he's holding you comfortably. His hand rubs soothing circles into your hip, and he tries to recline back into his seat as much as he can so you can lean into him.

Your heart pounds even harder, the blood rushing to your ears, and you think he feels it with the way his hunger seems to double.

Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze hazy and growing sleepy with each progressive second. But it doesn't hurt in the slightest. You feel warm, if anything— warm and happy that you were able to help him, and make sure he's well.

He's slowing a little. His hunger finally abating and making way for something more tender and soft. You scratch his scalp lovingly and lean your head against his. A sweet, sleepy kiss pressed to his temple makes his pace falter.

Wriothesley soon separates himself from your neck, pressing a kiss and a kitten lick to your newest wound. Like the one on your wrist, it tingles for just a bit before any stinging or pain vanishes entirely.

"Hey baby," he murmurs, pulling away slightly to look at your face, but making sure his arm is still wrapped around you. To keep you steady, to remind you that he's here. He smiles a little at your happy, dazed expression, but even now you can see the lingering worry. "You with me?"

You respond with a hum, nodding as best as you can. "Yeah. 'm okay."

Wriothesley laughs a little, watching you stumble over your words. He lets you fall flat against his chest with you head hanging on his shoulder and cradles you against him. One hand goes to twine your fingers with his, desperate to hold you as much as he can, and the other snugly tucks your head under his chin. In his embrace, you feel the beat of your heart gradually slow back to a calm. It leaves you boneless and tired, the crash of it all finally hitting you and making your eyelids flutter.

"That's good." You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. "Did anything hurt at all, honey?"

You shake your head. Too tired to look up at him, so you squeeze his hand instead. A kiss is pressed to the apple of his throat. "Nothing. I'm just tired, 's all. I'm fine."

He holds you closer, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Thank you, my love. Let's get you something to eat and drink, then we sleep— how does that sound?"

You just hum your agreement, limbs feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Wriothesley places a kiss to the crown of your head. With utmost gentleness, he cradles you in his arms as he stands, trying not to jostle you as he makes his way out of the room.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs, heart growing three sizes in his chest, arms full of the most precious thing in his world.

You bury yourself further into him. "Love you more, Wrio."

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[mariaace]

Can you write dating headcanons for Fyodor,pls?🥺🥺😗😗

A/n:No, I can't./j lmao girl i love you, but those are soo many reqs anyways here you go<3

Warnings:uhm none? Genre:fluff Type: headcanons

Anime:bsd Pairing:Fyodor

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So, let's start with this Russian man

Dating him feels very classy. Like in a way of speaking to you and in general, affection and all of the things that there are in a relationship

Most likely acts at least a little bit more open when he is only with you. BUT in order for that to happen he has to really trust you, even though only to start dating him would take a loooot time

Love language? Meh probably words of information or act of service

Speaking of act of service, he will give you whatever you want and ask him him for. Doesn't matter what it is. You name it? It's yours, he doesn't care if he has to kill for it

Now complimenting you is part of his routine, because you are just so perfect, how can he not compliment you?? Like what is he gonna do then??

Just sitting with him in silence while he does his work. Doesn't matter if you are laying your head in his lap, hugging him, clinging onto him or just sitting beside him in general. It can be rather calming

Yes, Fyodor does gives you nicknames, but just a little bit more ✨classy✨ and probably Russian

Taking you on fancy dates at least once a week is part of his job as a boyfriend for him. Of course he does because he wants to, but he also does it, because he thinks you deserve it.

Eye contact with him is so overwhelming and calming at the same time. Like it's easy to hold eye contact with him, but at the same time it's so hard. I don't think i can explain it better than this.

Would sometimes says something in Russian and then makes you guess what he says. Like a game. If you guess it right, he's taking a break from work to spend time with you. He always gets so surprised wehn you actually do guess something right

This guy is a light sleeper so if you ever wake up in the middle of the night, because of a nightmare or just can't sleep, he'll wake up right after you. Ask you what's wrong and if he can help with something.

Speaking of nights he looks so peaceful while he is sleeping. Like there are a few guys in bsd that would look ten times more beautiful while they are sleeping and he is one of them.

Honestly not a big fan of PDA. Like if you ask him for something? Yeah okay, he's alright with that, but don't expect him to start something first.

Wearing his ushanka >< even if it's just to mess with him. He will be like "Give it back to me right now" but at his mind he would think how cute you look wearing it.

Honestly i know it's Fyodor, but he is the type of guy to let you do that one tik tok trend with the lipstick kisses. Do i know why it is like this? No.

© mariaace 2024 please do not copy, translate, steal or claim any of my works!

Reblogs are highly appreciated!

@dazailoveschuuya

[nosesitter]

Boss!Joel Miller

3.3k words

boss!joel you’re out on the town, looking slutty, 6 vodka crans in, your tits are practically out, walking all sloppy, talking very loud and who do you run into? Your very hot boss Joel who’s only ever seen you in business attire.

a/n: I think I have a thing for having sex in trucks this is second time I’ve written about that. I love some mean Joel love me some mean men that I can make cum and then they start acting right. Going to be writing part 3 of helpful Joel miller just need to think some more. Pls interact, reblog, comment and tell me what you think I love feedback!!

⚠️: mean!joel, name calling(baby,slut,whore), reader is drunk as a skunk, alcohol consumption, public semi voyeur, p in v, spanking with a belt!!, choking, finger sucking, sex in a truck, Joel has a truck that has those blinding headlights, thick dick Joel, SMALL cum play, m!receiving oral, swallowing cum

As the seconds slowly count down to 4 o’clock you’re sitting at your desk thinking about how you’re going to lie to your boss so you can leave work early, it’s your friends birthday and you just want to go home get ready and pregame. It’s not a problem for you to lie, but to Joel? Nah, something about your boss makes it extremely hard, seeing him just makes you want to tell the truth, get on your knees and beg for his forgiveness. Your boss, Joel Miller, is extremely attractive, always wearing the tightest button down shirts to show off his broad shoulders and sculpted muscles in his arms. It’s very contradicting whenever you walk into his office and he’s just man spreading, yelling questions about the assignments he’s given you. Slacks bunching around his thighs you just wanna lay over his lap and have him spank you until your skin is blistering red, begging him to stop.

As you’re sitting there, 5 minutes into the new hour, trying to think of lies and finishing up the latest project that Mr. Miller has given you your office phone rings without having to look at the caller ID you know it’s your boss. “Yes sir?”

“Come into my office we have to talk about your recent turn in.” The last assignment you’ve turned into him was about 30 pages long and contained all his business contacts organized by the most recent ones he’s worked with. You tried to organize it more better but Joel was on vacation so you used your best judgement with handling it but sounds like it was wrong.

As you walk to his office you stop by a big glass window. You can see your reflection and take this time to straighten yourself out. A lot of the other ladies in the department you worked in wore very low cut blouses and tight pencil skirts. You just wear an all black blouse, slacks, and cardigan. He has made comments about the way you dress, especially here in Texas he almost expected you to show skin around the office just like the others but they do that for his attention. You already have his attention unbeknownst to you.

“Just come in!” He bellows out from the other side of the door. You push the door open and there he is sitting behind his desk for a change while a younger looking man stands next to him. “Please take a seat.” He says through gritted teeth, he seems upset. The younger one begins to talk.

“My names Tommy, I’m Joel’s younger brother. We were just going over the assignment I gave Joel last week and looks like it wasn’t done by Joel it was done by you.” Tommy says coming over to sit right next to you. Everyone in the office knows Joel slacks off, but turns out his brother and superior didn’t know about that. Your gaze shifts to the older Mr. Miller and he’s just rolling his eyes at his brothers choice of words.

“It was fantastic! I absolutely loved how you set it up and so did a lot of people higher than me.” He tells you happily causing the anxiety in your stomach to settle and your shoulders to relax as you soak in the compliment from the younger nicer brother. He leans forward and sets his hand on your thigh.

“We’d love to get you up here in your own office, working right alongside Joel and I.” His brother is also very attractive but he doesn’t have that ruggedness and frightening edge like Joel. Tommy’s thumb is rubbing small circles into the side of your thigh. Joel notices this.

“We can get you moved in right now-“ The older one begins talking again but you cut him off. He also notices that.

“My grandma needs me to help get her from the hospital-“ you stand from your seat and try to distance yourself from the angry looking older brother.

“Please go, I’m pretty sure we can get someone to help Joel move your things into the office next door.” Tommy is very nice, handsy, but nice nonetheless. You begin to excuse yourself from the room but not before looking back at Mr. Miller who waves you off angrily from behind his happier younger brother.

——

It’s 9 o’clock by the time you finish getting ready. Knocking out some errands beforehand so you’ve had time to relax before getting absolutely hammered. You’ve decided on some tight black pants and a black lace corset. Definitely a change from your normal clothes but you’re celebrating so you can look slutty for the night.

Grabbing your wallet and phone you head out to the Uber you’ve ordered and head over to the strip of night clubs near your apartment. When you get there you can see all your friends at the first club on the block. With that y’all start the night off.

——

It’s 30 minutes after midnight and half of your friends have gone home. It’s just you, the birthday girl, and her friend. They keep talking about wanting to go home but you’re at that point where you could have another drink but you know it’ll be a bad idea but it sounds so fun.

“I’m going to another club!” You’re slurring your words so drunk you can’t even think about anything else. As you’re stumbling to the next club you hear your name being shouted probably your friends yelling for you. You show the bouncer your ID and once again your name is being called from outside. Ignoring it you head right in and straight to the bar

“Vodka cran!” You yell to the bartender and he goes right to making the drink. As you’re standing there waiting for the drink an arm comes around your waist. You follow the hand to the body and it’s Mr. Joel Miller. You stand there for a moment and just stare at him. He’s wearing a silk shirt the first three buttons undone, gold necklaces sitting so pretty on his neck god damn he looks fucking good. No one breaks eye contact as the bartender puts the drink in front of you along with the bill. Joel sets his debit card right on the counter then leans forward, his beard scratching the side of your cheek, lips right on your ear. It feels wrong but it sends electricity through your body. You’ve been caught by him.

“How’s grandma?” You can hear the condescending tone in his voice. He’s enjoying seeing you act dumbfounded by his appearance here. You grab your drink and just walk past him heading to the patio best believe he’s following behind. Feeling the cold night air hit your face to take a breath and a big sip of your drink to regain the drunk confidence you desperately need to get through this.

“This definitely looks bad and I’m sor-“ He’s not paying attention to anything you’re saying but instead staring you down with intense sexual hunger. All those times he’s yelled and put the fear of god into you for not getting work done faster fades away as he sees your nipples poking from behind the lace of your top.

“You should wear stuff like this at work, I’d be in your new office everyday baby.” His fingers reaching out to touch the lace that’s stuck to your chest. He knows what he’s saying and doing is highly inappropriate and you could definitely get him fired for this but you have to admit the attention sends a lighting bolt of feelings to your core causing you to clench around nothing. You take another big sip of your drink.

“You man spreading while yelling at me is inappropriate, how can you scold me and not expect me to feel turned on seeing you like that.” People walking all around pushing the both of y’all closer together. His right hand moves forward to grab your waist. His touch causing goosebumps to rise of your skin from excitement, brown eyes blown out with lust he can’t keep his eyes off your chest. He takes the nearly drink from your hand and finishes it off, he sets it to the side and leads you closer to the speakers, you can feel the bass in your chest and your tongue in your throat as Joel takes your hand with his big one. The both of you facing each other standing near the back under red flashing lights. He guides your arms around his neck, your fingers tangling in his damp neck hair.

One of his hands searching for your bare skin, the spot between your corset and band of your pants, you feel extremely hot he can definitely feel the heat radiating off your body as his other hand moves down from the strap on your shoulder and over the curve of your fleshy breast poking out of the lace cup. You can feel yourself clench around nothing again the feeling you have in your clit is numbing. You want nothing but his big tanned hand on you rubbing circles while his salt and pepper beard scratches your neck.

The music is so loud it’s deafening only focusing on each others wondering hands. A bold feeling probably from the alcohol comes hurling up from you, causing you to pull yourself into Joel’s lips. There’s no hesitation from Joel whatsoever he welcomes your cranberry stained lips and vodka flavored tongue into his mouth. Both his hands sneak into the band of your pants and over the curve of your ass brushing past your thong his hands so greedy for skin to skin contact he just wants to bruise your skin, hot flesh spilling through the gaps in his fingers as he kneads your ass. Pressing yourself onto him you can feel his erection stop against your zipper. He feels extremely thick you couldn’t imagine him inside of you.

You break away from his mouth and attach your lips to his neck, salty from sweat you couldn’t care less. You can feel the vibrations in his neck from him groaning, it makes you excited and you immediately want to hear more. Grabbing his hand again you head to the exit door that leads out into an alley. The cold air hits your skin and you catch your breath but not for long as Joel pulls you out the alley and down the street into a parking garage.

He skips the elevator and pushes the emergency stairs door open and leans back against it to stop anyone else from opening it. Joel’s hands go straight for his belt pulling the buckle off then pulls the whole thing out from the loops with one forceful pull.

“Pull your pants down and put your hands on the rail.” There’s no doubt you’re wet. You can feel yourself spill over the small surface of your thong and onto your thighs it’s all too much and he hasn’t even began to touch you fully. You comply without a second thought pulling your pants down under your thighs. Joel hissed at the sight before him he leans forward from the door and walks closer to pull at the top of your thong causing the strap to snap back onto you. His hand coming down and grabbing your ass, jiggling the skin with the contact. He had you so relaxed with his touch that you almost forgot about the belt in his hand. Until he spanked you with it. The sound of leather on skin makes an echo all through the stairwell. A soundless scream leaving your lips it brings you back to reality. Brings you back to your dick boss with his hands on you leaving welts on your skin in a public place.

“I’d rather have you over my lap but that can wait till next time, sweetheart.” He grabs your pants and pulls them back up for you then motions for you to start walking. As you walk out of the stairwell and into the more public eye Joel digs in his pocket for his key and points it at his truck. The bright lights come on causing to to turn your head and shield your eyes. Before you can touch the door handle Joel sneaks up behind you and wraps his arms around your neck turning the both of y’all around.

“Let’s not waste any time, get in the backseat with me baby.” He pulls you back onto him and his hard cock then opens the back passenger door no one can see what you’re doing but they can definitely see the pairs of feet standing over each other under the door. His right hand going to your neck making your head fall back onto his shoulder. Left hand is heading for your screaming core. Your clit begging for his rough fingers to rub circles into it.

“Fucking slut, look a’cha dripping for me?” He’s so damn cocky, having you in a position like this and still being so mean. His middle finger moving from your clit to dip down and gather more of your wetness. He growls into your neck as his two middle fingers push into you causing you to moan out and clench around him. Joel moves his hand from your neck to your lips shoving his middle finger into your mouth making you suck it. Tongue swinging around the digit. His two fingers curving up into the squishy part of you, so much stimulation at one time you squeeze your thighs together feeling his hand squish in between them.

Both of his hands rip away from your body and push you up into his backseat, your body falls backward onto the seat he uses this to take your pants off tossing them behind you and then climbing into the truck. He slams the door and squeezes past you his hands going quick for his zipper. As you’re sitting up you look at his cock that he’s pulled out already, so girthy, looking at it sobers you up a little. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes hooded as his hand strokes himself. Pulling his hand away he opens the palm and spits right into it not breaking eye contact with you.

“C’mon baby, hop on.” He looks intoxicating like this, so desperate looking begging for you to be wrapped around him. Swinging your leg over his lap and lowering over him he holds himself steady as you sink onto him. You look at his face as you lower but he’s looking at your hungry cunt stretch over him making his cock disappear into you. Your clit makes contact with the patch of black and gray pubic hair and it makes your sensitive clit tingle. You can hear his legs unstick from the leathery seats as he lowers down to hammer into you. Bracing for the beating your pussy is about to get you grab his shoulder and the handle above the door.

“Princess too good to bounce on my cock, havin’ me do all the work.” His accent so thick he’s staring to slur his words together. His hand slaps your ass as he stops moving and just lays there.

“Ride me don’t make me ask again I won’t be nice.” You don’t dare disobey him you need to cum you lay back onto the drivers seat and move your hips in slow motions, he’s buried deep inside of you the tip of his cock hitting deep squishy areas and the girth of him stretching you so nicely. It’s steaming inside his truck precipitation all over the windows, every once and a while a car passing by shining their headlights into the truck no doubt seeing what’s going on even shielded behind the drivers seat.

Joel’s hands pulling the cups of your top down ripping the lace in the process. His fingers pinching and pulling your nipples. This causes you to clench around him. A intense chilling sensation ripping right through your lower abdomen.

“Oh shit my cock poking through stomach .” Joels a mumbling mess he can’t even make coherent sentences with you clenching so hard around him. His warm hand goes flat above your pubic bone as he presses on himself with your organs. You lean forward, hands going to his cheeks and lips smashing into his, and begin to use his cock for your own pleasure. The truck is shaking no doubt, people walking past drunkly to their cars cheering as they see steam covered windows and your loud moans coming from the vehicle.

Your thighs are shaking as you bounce on him moaning through the pain as your knees begin to buckle your hands grabbing his hair and pulling it in different directions. “I’ma cum inside you!” He’s loud, breathy and moaning his words into your skin. You can feel him gush inside of you feeling him coat your insides with his seed. It happened so hard you can taste the feeling of his spent in your throat. Bodies sticking to each other, you’re dripping wet causing his leg hair to stick and mat against his thighs. He leans forward and grabs a water bottle from the middle console behind you.

You lift yourself from his lap and wince as he falls out of you. Sitting right next to him you can feel the mixture of each others cum dripping out of you. “Not on my leather seats, whore.” Joel says and moves his hands over to slip a finger inside of you pushing the combination of spent back into you. His finger having no effect on your stretched walls the way his dick did. You see his limp dick twitch a little in his lap and decide to give it a kiss. Opening your mouth and giving the tip an open mouth kiss you can taste the tang of the both of y’all on your tongue. Joel gives you a little groan as you mouth lowers over him cleaning his cock off. He twitches inside your mouth as he hardens again. His body so sensitive to his release that he begins to clench his thighs and jerk his cock deeper into your mouth.

P-please, baby stop ill cum again I know it.” You decide to push him to his limit after all those times of him giving you stupid work that was his all along you keep sucking hallowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his shaft. It’s not long before his hand presses on the back of your head and he’s sputtering what little he had left into your mouth. He’s gasping now, immediately soft in your mouth you pop off and swallow what’s in your mouth.

“When you come in Monday morning I’m bending you over my desk and eating you out.” You sit there proud with yourself and your actions and for once excited to go into work.

————🥴🤭😈

reblog, like, and validate me🫶🏻

0711

[ugh-yoongi]

hi!! i miss jin sm😭😭do u have any fic recs i could read in such a time?

hi nonnie! i also miss him very much, so i hope these fics can make you feel a lil better <3

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

(also pls note i am doing this at work and we are slammed so there are a ton i've forgot. i'll come back and update this when i have a bit more time, but until then, please feel free to reblog with your own favorites!)

seokjin x reader

all you're giving me is friction by @hot-soop

last christmas by @xjoonchildx

meet me at the bar by @eoieopda

come sail away by @the-boy-meets-evil

distraction by @here2bbtstrash

taming of the bridezilla by @cinnaminsvga

play hard by @honeymoonjin

for you, anything by @gukyi

sugar by @wwilloww

aubade by @junghelioseok

on the ropes by @raplinesmoon

christmas warfare by @gimmethatagustd

i'm all yours by @sailoryooons

decent by @hamsterclaw

as always, member x member fics (aka me being namjin/yoonjin trash) under the cut!

member x member

beneath the moon by @yoongiphoria (namjin)

the restitution coefficient by @effortandmore (namjin)

these four walls (yoonjin)

look (yoonjin)

telepathy for virgins (2seok)

kkotkkoji (namjin)

beta tau sigma (namjin)

a calendar in one color (yoonjin)

salt water (namjin ft. jk)

concluding remarks (yoonjin)

breaking the soulbond (yoonjin)

somewhere you can meet me (yoonjin)

acts of service (yoonjin)

C:\PAIRINGS\YoonJin\Date_A.exe (yoonjin)

the rightish reasons (yoonjin)

local dumbass idiot helps sexy criminal and then writes sad bird poems instead of just saying Yes Seokjin I Like You Too (namjin)

easy (namjin)

and they were roommates (namjin)

a sociolinguistic analysis of epenthesis in academic convergence (namjin)

worldwide lonesome (yoonjin)

the vagabond (yoonjin)

a breach of protocol (namjin)

wish you were instead (jinmin)

everything moves on (namjin)

kim seokjin, professional miracle (yoonjin)

more walls (collected along the way) (namjin)

smile like you mean it (2seok)

bloom (jinkook)

bated breath (2seok)

cherub vice (jinkook)

imprints & magnitude (namjin)

we were written in the stars (jinmin)

two bros, chillin in the gay club (2seok)

i wouldn't know where to start (yoonjin)

inc. (yoonjin)

fake sugar (jinkook)

[midnightfictionlibrary]

Oh, Honey - Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Jamie Tartt x Fem!Reader

Content : jealousy, friends to lovers, a bit of violence, flirting, kissing

Word Count : 1.6k

Plot Summary : Jamie doesn’t know how to react when he sees you flirting with a West Ham player. 

A/N : More of my love, Jamie, there's a criminally low amount of Jamie fanfic---as always pls like and reblog if you enjoy <3

“Well don’t you look gorgeous?” You hear the voice before you see its owner, and you roll your eyes before picking your drink up from the bar and turning around. 

“And you are?” You deadpan. 

“Westley Smythe. But I’m better known as the star player of West Ham.” He quirks a smile at you and you try hard not to laugh right in his face. 

“You do know who I am?” You ask him, and he raises an eyebrow, looking you up and down as if there was no way he could know. 

“I’m Richmond’s athletic trainer. ” You watch the wheels turn in his mind, and you smooth your dress on yourself, flashing him your own brilliant smile. “I don’t really associate with West Ham.” 

He shrugs. “No one has to know.” He says, and this time, you do laugh out loud, actually tickled that this man was being so bold. 

But your laugh alerts your own star player, a certain number 9. Jamie’s jaw clenches when he sees you laughing with Smythe, and the grip on his beer bottle (a rare treat Roy allowed him) tightens. He feels Roy lean over, and he rolls his eyes in anticipation for whatever Roy has to say. 

“Bloody fucking hell, Tartt. Just tell the girl you like her.” Jamie can’t help but steal glances at you, where you’re chatting away with the West Ham player. And…are you enjoying his company? He thinks about you, how you move when a song you like comes on, the smell of your honey scented perfume. 

“I can’t.”

“Yes you fucking can.” Roy grunts, and with that he puts another beer in front of Jamie and wanders off to mingle with Ted and Beard. 

This leaves Jamie with admittedly, a lot to think about, even though Roy hadn’t said much. 

You keep a tight smile on your face, and you glance to the boys, noticing Jamie was watching you. Your face flushes and you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. Even though Westley was definitely not your type, you decide you could maybe use him to make Jamie a bit jealous. 

For the past few months, it always seems like Jamie is on the edge of asking you something. There’s stolen glances, smiles that linger a bit too long. You even find yourself checking over him after games more often than other players. You and Jamie were friendly, even friends, but you couldn’t deny the extremely large crush you held on the Mancunian. 

You reach out and brush a light hand on Smythe’s arm, causing him to step a bit closer to you. You glanced again at Jamie, the muscles in his perfect jaw jumping at the sight of you and Smythe. You grin to yourself, angling your body so you’re facing away from Jamie. You felt maybe a little evil, but maybe it would push him to talk to you a bit more. Of course, you could talk to him, but it seemed like anytime you tried to flirt, Jamie was completely oblivious to what you were trying to do. 

You roll your eyes as Westley continues to drone on, casting a peek over your shoulder. Jamie was still watching you, but he was standing now. He sets his bottle on the table and skulks out of the bar, and you can’t help but smirk. 

The next day, you’re up in the box with Keeley and Rebecca, who you inform of your jealous-Jamie plan. 

Keeley grins. “I love it babes.” And Rebecca nods.

“Maybe it showed him what he was missing.” She suggests, and you point a finger at her, settling into your seat. You cross your arms and gaze down at the field but the huge monitor over the stands shows closeups of the team. You can’t keep your eyes off of Jamie, and Keeley leans in. 

“He looks grumpy, I think your little plan worked, yeah?” She grins, nudging you. You shrug, but secretly you were pleased. If he was jealous over you, surely that meant he liked you. 

The game starts, the usual fast paced back and forth making your head spin. You notice that Smythe has the ball, about to score, when suddenly -

“Oh my god!” You exclaim, standing straight up out of your seat. Jamie had slide-tackled the other player, knocking him down, causing Smythe to roll a little bit. Westley Smythe stands up and charges towards Jamie, who didn’t seem like he was going to back down, in fact, he was smirking, walking to meet Smythe. Jamie pushes Smythe hard, but before a real fight can break out, the referee interferes, gesticulating to Jamie. 

Finally, the referee pulls out a red card. 

Keeley and Rebecca sit next to you, stunned. 

You look up at the monitor and catch Jamie smirking, tongue out, cocky expression on display as he walks back towards the dugout. You sit down, slightly stunned. But also, slightly into it. You watch Roy shake his head at Jamie and send him into the locker room. You quickly stand up, making your way out of the box.

Your tennis shoes make a soft tap, tap, tap on the floor as you walk down the long, bright hallway to the locker room. You round the doorway and stop, right as Jamie looks up at you. 

“What the hell, Jamie? A red card? Not to mention, you could have hurt yourself and then work on your ankle would have had to start over.” You put your hands on your hips, moving forward towards him. 

“Oh sorry, are you worried about your little West Ham boyfriend?” He says, scoffing as he stands up, turning to face his locker. 

“Boyfriend? I don’t care about Westley.” 

“On a first name basis, huh?” 

You clench your teeth. He was going to be difficult about this. “Why do you even care?” 

Jamie shrugs, still facing away from you. “I don’t.” 

“So why’d you tackle him, then?” 

At this, you can see Jamie’s body tense. “He’s a bloody wanker, that’s why.” 

At this, you scoff. He was really going to stand in front of you and pretend as if you didn’t know what this was about. At the sound of your noise of indignation he turns around to face you. There’s a glint in his eyes and he steps closer to you. Very close. Noses almost touching close. He’s slightly taller than you, so he looks down at you. 

“Maybe I don’t like the way he was looking at you last night, yeah? Like you were a piece of fucking meat.” 

“I can take care of myself.” You assure him, biting back a smirk. You can’t help it though, a devilish smirk was playing on the corners of your lips. “Are you jealous, Tartt?” 

You expected him to smirk. You even expected him to maybe laugh, that beautiful smile on display. Instead, he licks his lips, quirking an eyebrow at you. “I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Then say it.” You challenge. 

At this, Jamie smirks. “Yes. I was jealous. You are smart, funny, and kind, and seeing Westley Smythe all over you made me want to tackle him on the pitch.” 

You’re a bit taken aback. You didn’t expect him to pile compliments on you, and your eyes soften. “Oh..” you breathe out. 

Jamie continues to gaze down at you, leaning in even closer than he was before, his lips hovering centimeters above yours. You watch, mesmerized, drunk in his presence. 

“Seems you might like having me jealous over you, yeah?” Jamie teases. “But that’s okay, as long as I get you all to myself.” 

You swallow, your eyes trailing to his lips. “You’ve always had me all to yourself.” You whisper, glancing up to meet his gaze again. But the look on his face is different. Where before it was smirking, sexy, teasing, now it was surprised and anguished. 

“Wh..what?” He manages to get out, and you kick yourself, believing you said the wrong thing. “Just how long have you been trying to make me jealous?” He asks, reaching up to gently push a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You shrug, suddenly bashful, cheeks burning red hot as he brushed his hand there briefly. You feel a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. He searches your face, a small, pleased smile playing on his lips. 

“Only since last night. I couldn’t take the tension anymore.” You whisper, and Jamie laughs softly. He slides his hand to the side of your face, lifting his other hand to mirror it. Cradling your face gently, he leans in. 

Before anything happens, his eyes travel from your lips to your eyes. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. Your mouth feels dry, but you nod, and he leans in, gently connecting his lips to yours. 

You kiss him back, feeling as if you were melting, and you slide your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His hands leave your face and snake around your waist, holding you as close as he can. “You are as sweet as honey.” He breathes into your ear, and you shiver. 

“Oi!” You hear a booming voice yell from the doorway and you instinctively look over, still tangled in each other’s arms. There stood Roy, an eyebrow raised. “Not that I don’t think it’s about time the two of you kissed, but Ted wants to see you, Tartt.” 

Jamie looks at you, stealing another kiss before winking at you, following Roy out of the locker room door. You stood there, smiling and blushing to yourself. You guessed Jamie just needed a little push, is all. You couldn’t wait to continue what you started.

[mingtinysworld]

Hold me tight

Pairing: daddy!yunho x little!reader

Genre: DDLG, fluff, comfort, angst

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Coming home from a very overwhelming day, your caretaker Yunho is there for you through the emotional turmoil

A/n: so delving into more ddlg type content has been on my mind for a really long time now. I know it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s really special to me and I hope that you can enjoy it. I think Yunho fits the role of a caretaker perfectly, and I can really imagine him being so sweet yet authoritative with his partner. Anyways, this was so sweet it gave me diabetes, so beware. I love youuu pls like, comment and reblog - J

Cutie divider credit to @bunnysrph

The tears are making your vision blurry as you force your way through the filled hallways. Desperately needing to reach your car, you start jogging. People around you are looking at you strangely, as if you’ve gone crazy. Being so out of it, you don’t even notice, your only train of thought being to get out of there.

Finally getting inside the car, you take in a shaky breath and keep clenching and unclenching your fists. You take a minute to calm down in order to be able to drive home safely. Turning the ignition, you take off in the opposite direction of the university. As you drive, sobs escape your body, and you can’t seem to be able to stop. You feel absolutely pathetic for letting the anxiety and stress get the best of you.

You step on the gas, wanting to get to Yunho as fast as possible. You desperately need his steady and comforting presence. You run through multiple red lights, surprised you haven’t been hit yet. As you pull into the driveway your breathing intensifies, feeling so close yet so far from comfort.

You run to the door, and open it with such an urgency that it startles Yunho, who is casually lounging on the couch. He sits up with alarm at your abrupt entrance and jumps to his feet. You run to him and throw your arms around his neck, putting your whole weight onto him. He reciprocates by holding your body and pulling your legs up around his waist.

“Shh I got you baby,” he speaks with a soft tone. He doesn’t question anything and just holds you so close. He sits back down on the couch bringing you along with him. You bury your head into his neck, crying softly, tears staining his shirt. He rubs your back soothingly, slowly bringing you down from your tangled emotions.

“Daddy why am I like this?” You ask with a hoarse whisper.

“Like what sweetheart?” Yunho questions.

You take a few seconds, collecting your thoughts. Yunho waits patiently, running a soft hand through your hair. You shakily breathe and lift your head up to make eye contact.

“I feel so pathetic. I feel like I can’t ever do anything right. Why do I feel overwhelmed by so many things? I get overwhelmed by work, by school, by my own friends. I can’t handle the loud noises and I feel like I fail at every task. It’s just…all too much.” A sob escapes you and Yunho looks at you with eyes that hold so many emotions. He would do absolutely anything for you, if only it meant it would guarantee your happiness.

“Oh sweetheart, you’re not pathetic. Not at all. Everyone has different capabilities and limits, and that’s ok. You have so many talents, so many amazing attributes. And you are so so beautiful. You’re my girl aren’t you?” He looks at you expectantly.

You look down shyly, not meeting his eyes. “Yes, yes I am.”

He beams with delight. “That’s right baby, you’re my girl, and always will be. I’m here to take care of you. I know the days are hard, but I will do whatever I can to make it easier on you. All I want you to do is turn off your pretty little brain and let me take care of you alright?”

Your heart aches from the care you’re being shown. You love Yunho so much. He is so much more than a partner. He’s your caretaker, your lifeline, your forever. You hold so much love and respect for him that you’re not sure how to even contain it. You just feel like exploding with affection.

“Now, I want you to eat something. I know you must’ve not eaten today, so that’s priority number one. I made some stir fry earlier, would you like some?” He asks.

“Daddyyy I don’t wanna eat. I’m not hungry.” You try your well known pout, not expecting it to work at all.

“Nuh uh, don’t give me that look. You’re eating, even if it’s a little bit.” He says in a mock stern voice.

He lifts you up with him and you head to the kitchen. You sit by the table, just watching him prepare plates. You swing your legs back and forth, already feeling so much better. He comes with the food and sits next to you. He tries to make you laugh constantly, and you giggle uncontrollably, almost having choked twice already.

“Here comes the airplaneee brrrrr” he flies the fork around, having the silliest look on his face.

You screech with laughter. “Yunho! I’m not a baby!”

“Oh? I thought you were? Huh, must have the wrong person.” He grabs his chin as if he’s in deep thought. You let out a snort at his antics and he raises a goofy eyebrow at you.

“Ah I see. You think this is funny.”

You shake your head quickly. “Nope! Not at all.” You purse your lips trying to keep in the laughter.

All of a sudden his lips attack your face in a bout of violent smooches. He kisses your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, any exposed skin he can find. You squeal as he holds you so tight.

“That’s for not taking me seriously.” He pretends as if he’s so offended. You let him get away with it and just laugh at him.

Finally, one more round of a kiss attack later, the food is finished and you’re feeling full yet completely exhausted. He leads you to the bedroom and changes you into your comfy pajamas. Then he sets you down onto the bathroom counter, brushing your teeth for you. You can’t keep your eyes open anymore, so you just let Yunho do all the work. He then gets into bed with you, making sure you’re all covered and snuggled underneath the layers.

“I love you sweet girl. I can’t even express fully just how much I love you truly. Even more than the whole universe, bigger than the biggest thing that ever exists. You are so worthy, you deserve happiness, and you are enough. I want you to know that it’s ok to have off days, and it’s ok to be overwhelmed. But I will be there every step of the way with you, I won’t ever abandon you. Daddy loves you so much, and wants the best for you.” He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead as your lashes flutter.

You snuggle closer to his chest and let the tension escape your body. You let out a content sigh and let your mind go empty.

“I love you too daddy.”

[kirarifutari]

enhypen as fast food workers (enhypen ot7.)

GENRE .. !? enhypen ot7 headcanons i guess... pureee crack, comedy

WARNINGS .. !? not proof read, swearing, for shits and giggles don't take anything to heart lol

WC ..?! approx 852

NOTES.. ?! okay pls blame @dazed-hee for putting this thought into my head and helping me w this... i cannot believe i sat my ass down and wrote this,, yes i just got off work ... anyway i hope u enjoy this goofy little piece pls like + reblog to support!!

heeseung

actually does his job properly LOLLL

he's so good at it asw he is never ever stressed 😭😭 he never complains either he just gets shit done ?? like you'll be on shift w him and magically you don't have to do anything ever bc somehow he has it under control…?

all the customers love him asw LMAO he's the type to remember regulars 🙏

god sent everyone needs a heeseung to work with, he's even nice to the rude customers but is not afraid to be a little passive aggressive bitch 🤧

he never talks badly about anyone so no one ever shit talks him?? but if you ask him ab drama he'd be like “not naming any names but…” 😭

jay

he is exactly like heeseung except when is jay ever NOT stressed

he is internally crying every five seconds over something and every time a customer complains about something you can see the light in his eyes die little by little 💀💀

he doesn't even care what anyone else is doing he's just so caught up in doing his job he doesn't realise that he's doing everything himself…  more utc!

if you catch him on a good day tho you can hear him make fun of customer orders 😭 “who the fuck orders 3 hamburgers past the age of three years old…”

let's you do whatever you want bc hes too busy dealing w the emerging grey hairs 🙏

jake

the best person to work your shift w for a good time hands downnn

he's so funny he will make you cackle every five seconds,, you'll be taking a drive thru order and you'd be trying so fucking hard not to laugh into the mic 😭 he will fr start SINGING in ur ear goodbye

super friendly w customers and will literally start a conversation ab the most random things ?? “bro did you just order this family box?? you eating that yourself? that's crazy, mad respect” 💀

dawg does everything all at once, making burgers, taking orders, handing out food, changing the bins ??? yet somehow he's the one goofing off the most ? 

sunghoon

doesn't know how he landed the job tbh… everyone expected him to be unemployed the rest of his life 🔥

HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO COUNT CHANGE W CASH 😭 bro tries his hardest but is always fumbling around fr,, our maths legend

the type to be like “hm? i can't hear you” “what did you say? “yeah just gimme a minute” he is TOO CHILL he's so unserious ab this job he clocks on and does nothing half the time 🙏 he'll say he'll do what you ask him too but... you both know he won't xoxox

somehow he's still one of the managers favourites and gets good shifts every week… 

if a customer yells at him he'd be like “yeah give me a second” and then just gets someone else to deal with it LMFAO 💀

sunoo

THE BIGGEST SHIT TALKER having a shift w him is so good, he somehow knows everything that's going on w everyone ??? fills you in w all the gossip fr.

he's rly bubbly w all the nice customers and is one of the nicer employees to work with but if ur on his bad side … 💀💀💀

like if you annoy him as a customer he will hand you order wordlessly and look you up and down HE DOESNT CAREEE BROOO 😭

if anyone ever blames him for doing something wrong on shift he literally will just be like “that wasn't me tho 😄😄” biggest liar and everyone knows it but no one cares cus we all love him 🫶

sunoo will definitely be the type to buy you food on his break or give you free stuff when you clock off 😭

jungwon

would be the biggest gas lighter LMFAO

“oh you ordered a double big mac and not a regular? yeah on our register it's gone through as regular so i don't know what you want me to do, you can pay for another one tho!” 💀💀💀💀

bro gives so much sass to rude customers he does NOT gaf, he does it all w a smile on his face too like “sorry about that but we can't do anything to fix it 😊” 

he’d be so chill w his co workers asw, he would really care if everyone's messing around but somehow w him on shift everything goes oddly smoothly… 

working w him is so fucking funny cus he will never take no for an answer w a customer he will keep pushing until they LEAVE 😭

niki

LMFAOOO okay this kid fucking hates his job LOL

will spit in a customers drink because he can 🙏 he will not take shit from anyone and he knows no one will fire him bc they're understaffed 😚

plays the best music and always has kitchen speaker aux !!!

if you ask him to remake a burger or help you with something he'll either give you a blank stare or a “no, i won't.” and then do it for you anyway 👊👊 he is such a little menace but he doesn't care 

w annoying ass customers he will literally start arguing w them STOP

would go viral on tiktok cus some customer was filming him being rude but everyone would be siding w him bc niki is always in the right godbless.

[lauptimist]

Your hair is really soft after you wash it - Percabeth

a/n- this is the first chapter of my fluff one-shots series on ao3. I hope you enjoy it! pls like, comment and reblog. It motivates me so much. Also make sure you send me requests. I've had a few so far but it may take me little while to get them out. I'm hoping chapter 3 of this series will be out soon. :)

Percy didn’t quite know how he got here, lying next to Annabeth on her bed in Cabin 6. You’d think it was romantic, at least, that's what all her brothers and sisters thought when she led him in here with a firm grip on his wrist. But in truth Percy was pretty sure that this was the most uncomfortable experience he had ever had. He was as stiff as a board, not even letting the tip of his finger come within 5 inches of Annabeth in fear that she would kick him out. 

Even still there was no way that he would want to be anywhere else, even just being in her presence made him feel good. 

Percy wasn't sure what it was about her exactly that pulled him in so much but it could have something to do with the fact that he knew that whatever happened, she would always be on his side. And with the subtle hints that she had dropped to him he was pretty sure she felt the same way. Percy had always been someone who wouldn't dream of hurting or betraying his friends, no matter the situation. He knew he had proved that on their quest, with the arch and the golden throne being just a couple of examples. He had also noticed that Annabeth had been distancing herself from other people at camp, at this point Percy was pretty much the only person she spent time with and he was almost certain that it had quite a lot to do with Luke.

Saying that Lukes betrayal had hit Annabeth hard would be an understatement, she had barely left her cabin for the first three days, only emerging for meals and mandatory meetings and she almost always showed up with red rims around her eyes. 

Percy was worried to say the least but he didn’t know how to help her when she was so desperate not to talk to anyone. He might not be the best when it came to emotions (that was more Grover’s forte) but one thing Percy did know was that the worst thing you can do is bottle it up. He knew Annabeth was struggling and he was ready to barge in and force her to talk to him until one day she just showed up at his cabin. He was slightly astounded for a moment and she seemed almost shy which was the last thing he ever expected her to be, but she just asked if she could come in and when Percy finally managed to stutter out a yes she just sat down on one of the empty bunks pulled a book out of her bag and started reading.

Percy was slightly confused for a while before he decided to just carry on with the drawing he’d been doing in his sketchbook. He wasn’t a particularly good artist but he had always enjoyed drawing as it helped him to make sense of the things happening around him. And so it became somewhat of a routine for them. Her reading a book (usually a different one everyday) and him sketching some mythical creature they had encountered (although a lot of his recent sketches had been of the owls he often saw in the woods). Until this lunchtime when Annabeth had come over to his table, ignoring the reprimanding glances she was receiving from Chiron, and asked if he could meet her in her cabin later. 

Being the seaweed brained idiot that she always knew him as, he had not thought to go and get his sketchbook before he went and so now he was just lying there awkwardly as unlike his cabin all of the bunks in the Athena cabin were full and so they had to share Annabeths. Working up the courage he asked her,

“Annabeth, why are we in your cabin instead of mine?”

She turned and looked at him,

“Did I not tell you?” She seemed surprised

“Um-no. Unless I forgot which is very possible and in which case I apologise as-” he was rambling now.

Annabeth simply let out a small laugh that for some reason made his cheeks feel hot,

“It's fine Seaweed Brain, I’m pretty sure I forgot to tell you anyway. I asked Chiron if he had a monster proof TV, which he doesn’t but he did give me this Laptop instead which apparently has something called Disney+ on it. Im not entirely sure what that is but i assumed you would know so…” She stopped talking, noticing the astounded look on his face. 

“O-oh i’m sorry if you don’t want to, it's just that you said we could watch a movie after the quest was over and i thought now would be  good time…”

“No no no, Its amazing Annabeth! I guess i was just surprised you remembered, i mean it was a while ago.” Percy hurried to reassure her.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since you first mentioned it back in Waterland.” Percy was smiling softly at her, an emotion in his eyes that Annabeth couldn’t recognise.

“Well then Wise Girl, what film do you feel like watching?” Percy’s face lit up in anticipation.

“Oh wait, do you mind if i have a shower before we start? My hair is kinda greasy and I won't have time for one tomorrow.” Annabeth suddenly remembered.

“Of course, don’t be too long though. I might watch something without you.” Annabeth let out a small chuckle at his teasing tone.

“Sure Seaweed Brain, 10 minutes. Max” She tapped his nose on her way to the bathroom, an action that brought a dark flush to Percy’s cheeks that he hoped Annabeth hadn’t seen. 

Annabeth was true to her word and emerged from the bathroom exactly 8 minutes later with her hair half dried with a towel. She took a few seconds to tug a brush through it before joining Percy on the bed again. They were alone in the cabin now, her siblings had gone down to the campfire. Truthfully she hoped they would stay there until the movie they watched was finished, call her selfish but all she had wanted for a good week now was some alone time with Percy to watch a movie. Technically they were breaking the rule of a male and female camper being alone in a cabin together but she figured Chiron wouldn’t mind considering the highly dangerous quest to stop a war that they had just been on.

“I’ll ask you again, what movie do you feel like watching?” Percy brought her back to earth with a smile.

“I don’t know any so i guess we could just watch your favourite.” 

“Yessssss. Okay so my favourite movie is called Finding Nemo and it is the best film in the world. It's about this fish that gets lost and his dad and his friend have to go and find him.” Annabeth smiled as he typed it into the search box, of course such a stupid sounding movie would be his favourite.

1 hour and 40 minutes later Annabeth had officially watched her very first movie and she had thoroughly enjoyed it. Whilst she was right in saying that it was a bit stupid she found herself laughing more than she ever had before, although to be fair most of the things she was laughing at were Percy’s stupid comments. By the end they were both pretty tired and almost falling asleep. Still Annabeth didn’t want him to leave and she was almost certain that a similar thought was running through his mind. 

They stayed like that, in comfortable silence for another half an hour, curled up together, his arm around her shoulder, his hand playing with her hair. Annabeth was embarrassed as her hair was tangled from the way it had dried whilst she was lying down. However it was evident that Percy didn’t care as the next words from his lips were,

“Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

Looking back Annabeth thought that might be the moment she realised that her little crush might not be so little after all.

[queerponcho]

Transfixed | part 4

previous part | part 5

collage made by me with pictured from pinterest

moonknight!system x female!reader

a/n: I can't even begin to tell yall how cool i feel to have people reading what i write lmao. last week was super busy- i worked six days straight but i am so happy to finally post another chapter!! hope you like/ comment/ reblog if you enjoy(≧∇≦)ﾉ

Warnings: no use of Y/N, fluff, NOT beta read, gushing about the moonboys, flustered awkward dorks, plot-twists, Jake being a menace, Marc simping HARD, Steven being a cutie as always, spanish (without translations), if I missed anything or made any spelling mistakes pls don't hesitate to tell me!

Summary: finally ya'll get to read about the DATE!! Steven can barily hold it together and Marc stands on the side lines...at least that was the plan, but we all know that plans are made to be ignored. So Steven will unfortunately be interrupted by his brothers...more than once

4,800 words

‘He's here’ you mutter to yourself, running to the door making sure it's him and pushing the button to the intercom. ‘Yes, hello?’

The sweet voice rips him from his worry that he might’ve rang the wrong door despite checking the name and address for the millionth time. ‘..hello?’ you repeat unsurely into the intercom. ‘YES- uh i- yes hello, it’s Steven?’ he almost slaps himself mentally at his awkwardness but doesn't, when he hears your lively giggle easing him out of self-doubt. You buzz him in and he quickly pushes the door open. Making his way into the older looking building and going in the elevator. You quickly check your reflection in the hall mirror and apply the last layer of your favourite lipgloss when you hear the elevator doors creak open at the end of the hall. ‘You can do this- just be yourself!’ your reflection cringes at the self-pep-talk and you turn away from the mirror finally opening the door. You peek your head out the door and see Steven cautiously walking down the hall looking at all the nametags on the Apartments, before finally spotting you waiting at your entrance. He hurries towards you, you smile warmly at him and he returns the gesture with a flushed boyish grin. You stand in front of each other and you decide to break the silence ‘are these for me?’ you point to the flowers in his right hand. They were beautiful white flowers with red edges. ‘Yes, I- they’re carnations. I hope you like them’ he makes swift eye contact and rests his eyes back on the flowers, almost making you melt at his shy smile. ‘I love them, thank you Steven. Come in! I’ll quickly put them in a Vase before we leave.’ you step back into your apartment and wait for him to come in to close the door behind him.

He steps in and is immediately enveloped in your sweet scent. The Lighting is a warm yellow-y tone, the apartment is definitely not modern and looked rather old, but your personal furniture and decor gave it a youthful and warm ambience. All of it was very you. He loved it. ‘Did you have a hard time finding the apartment? I remember how I used to get lost easily in the first few weeks after I'd moved here.’ you ask him while picking out a vase from the cupboard. ‘Oh no, it was fairly easy to find- I think I've actually passed through here a few times before.’ he says pensively, still standing by the door not really knowing where to move. ‘I really like your home’ Steven says while looking around your open-plan apartment. He could even catch a glance of your bedroom from here, he wondered what it looked like in there…if he would ever get to see it personally…before he can fall down that rabbit hole he hears you answer. ‘Oh, um- thanks’ he catches you smiling and notices how you bite the inside of your bottom lip. He tries to not get caught up in the way you look while flustered like this- it was definitely doing something to him…he just wasn't sure what exactly, or rather he didn’t want to think about it too hard right now. Maybe later when he was back home…’So! Is the restaurant within walking distance or do we have to take the bus? Cuz if we have to take the bus I'll bring my bus-card.’ Steven blankly stares at you with a shocked expression ‘oh bugger, i totally forgot to tell you’ he mutters and avoids eye-contact but continues ‘all the restaurants are closed tonight-’ ‘oh-’ he sees your face fall but continues ‘yeah, I-i noticed a few hours ago and totally forgot to mention it to you since I was so busy buying and preparing the dinner, I am so sorry love- I- i understand if you don’t feel comfortable with going to my place-’ Stevens rambling is interrupted by your hands grasping his left hand, which had been resting on the countertop. Steven just stares at his hand enveloped in yours ‘you cooked for me?’ He snaps his head up and sees your soft smile and warm eyes. He can almost feel his knees give out at the sight in front of him, just now noticing what you're wearing and how beautiful you look in that too-big sweater. ‘Well…yes. Admittedly it might not be amazing but i-’ ‘I’m sure it's great steven, I can't wait to try it.’ you let go of his hand and he watches you grab your long coat and bag. You both head out the door and make your way out the building, on the way down he notices how his hand had somehow ended up back in yours, he feels his brain going fuzzy at the feeling of your hand enveloping his.

Your POV

Okay well yes, going to a guys place on the first date was something you wouldn't do on a usual date. But this isn't a usual date, is it? This is Steven, and well; Marc and Jake…can't really compare this to a regular dinner with some stranger. In the elevator you catch him looking at you from the corner of your eye. He notices you looking and turns a pretty shade of red, immediately moving his glance back towards the door. You have to bite back a giggle and make a move to take his hand back in yours. as soon as your fingers touch you feel your fingers tingle again. Just like when you were in the kitchen you get this tingling sensation and feel his heartbeat in your palm. As if you were holding his heart in your hand. As cheesy as it sounds, it's almost like you’ve felt this in another lifetime or like this has happened before…

You opt to walk to his place and stroll along the busy London street and talk about casual things like his work in the museum. Apparently he just got a job as a tour-guide in the museum of history and did tours of the different exhibits. His favourite being the Egyptian one. He seems fascinated by your interest in Egyptology and immediately basks in your attention, explaining tons of things to you and almost exploding with energy anytime you ask a question. Answering with “that's such an interesting question-“ or “many historians have speculated and cant seem to agree but I think-“. You can’t help but be almost entranced by his huge urge to teach you about something he clearly loves so much. You have hyper-fixations of your own so you feel very lucky that he's comfortable enough to indulge in his, so freely.  

He slows you both down and steers you towards an old looking apartment building in an okay part of town. It's very central but has the older charm just like your place. you let go of his hand and watch him fumble with his keys. He seems distracted and you hear him mumbling something. You assume he’s talking to Marc and don't feel like it’s your place to butt into their quick exchange. You head in and he closes the door behind you walking you toward the elevator. ‘My favourite god? Oh well that's a hard one-’ ‘Steven, you haven't asked her shit about her interests, shut up for a minute and let her talk!’ ‘bollocks, you’re right- so um, ‘nough about me…you like drawing, eh?’

flustered at the sudden switch of topic you answer quickly ‘yes- I-I love drawing, have loved to draw all my life basically’ ‘oh so you’re a proper artist then! I’d love to see some of your work’ Steven smiles eyes shining with interest ‘well- you’ve seen some before…remember?’ you say and giggle when you notice Stevens face change from fascinated and sweet to shock and somehow…blushing fear? His mouth agape, while staring into your eyes ‘how could I forget’ standing very close once again, you'd moved really close during the too-long elevator ride. Standing toe to toe, staring longingly into eachothers eyes. Marc is pretty sure Steven has never kept eye-contact for this long consecutively. 

But the spell breaks when the old elevator doors creak open and a dim ‘ding’ is emitted from the lift speaker. Steven clears his throat, the first to break the tension and turns away from you walking ahead to his apartment. You manage to unstick your feet from the floor and follow him.

You walk towards a deep navy blue door with the number 502 on it in gold metal letters. Even just the door looks homey and perfectly favours Stevens characteristics. The dark blue representing his shy nature but abundance in knowledge and love to give, the latter you haven't experienced first hand but you’ve felt it each time you touched him and held his hands.

The gold letters shining like his intense passionate nature, the one he exhibited when he told you all about egypt and the ennead. You may have known a lot of what he told you already, but it was so much nicer to hear it in his voice than it was to read it in those dusty forgotten books in the library. 

‘Here we are, welcome to my humble abode’ Steven chuckles and opens the door for you. You return his remark with a roll of your eyes accompanied by a stifled giggle and walk in. If the door of the apartment already told you so much about him, his flat was as if you’d held up a mirror in front of his mind.

It looked exactly like what you’d expect- except for the tidiness…with the little information you’ve gathered on Steven, he certainly didn't seem like a very organised guy. Even just the way he holds a conversation can be all over the place (which admittedly you kinda love), you just assumed his place would reflect that. You leave that thought and look over to Steven, only to realise he’d finished taking the dish out of the oven and had been watching you. He looks back down at the dish quickly,

‘I- well we made a lasagna, well two actually- one vegan and one with meat. Realised I never asked ya which you prefer so we made both’ he says while taking out the meat lasagna out of the oven and placing it on the wooden counter. You can't believe he made two lasagnas instead of just calling and asking. He doesnt stop being adorable and that makes you crave his closeness even more. Once again your mind is reeling with the question you keep asking yourself…”why do i feel so connected to him…” Jake you understand…then again, even he had you in a trance much too quickly. You aren't one to fall in love or even find many non-ficitonal people attractive and captivating. Recognising their beauty, yes. You are an artist so of course you can appreciate someone's beauty, but getting up to follow someone through the library, that was definitely a one-time thing you did only with Jake. He- well they had like a pulling energy around them that felt like it was tugging you closer to them.

You realise that you might’ve been staring at Steven for a bit too long since he started shifting and fidgeting uncomfortably. His face, a deep shade of red. ‘I-is there something wrong?- d’do you not like lasagna? I-I could ask Marc to whip up something el-’ Steven is already cursing himself out mentally for not asking you what you like to eat when he feels your hand around his arm. You tug him closer and pull him into a hug, squeezing him close as if he were to disappear in the next few seconds. You thread your fingers into his curls and tug him even closer. Hearing his breath hitch you feel him melt into your touch and nuzzle his nose into the crook of your neck, calming down by your touch once again. You feel his heartbeat but this time it resonates through your entire body, your hearts beating in unison.

He takes a deep breath and you blush at his content sighing. You hear him mumble something into your shoulder. ‘Hmm?’ ‘So the lasagna is okay then?’ you laugh and keep petting his head softly ‘I love lasagna’ you both pull back and you look into his eyes teasingly ‘and I'd love to try both of em’ you part from your hug completely and shoot him a wink. He blushes and he continues setting everything up while you take a stroll through his open-plan flat. 

You hear clanking in the kitchen and low mumbling, you’re sure Marc and Steven are discussing the previous moment. You give them their space and blend out the noise while looking through the impressive book collection. You assume it’s Stevens with all the egyptology and history titles, you find a few Greek mythology books that you’ve also read yourself before, you love to take a dive into that world regularly and can’t wait to discuss it with Steven. Just at the thought of him, you can feel his heartbeat against your ribcage again, it feels so calming and almost entrancing.

You continue walking along the bookshelf, when you walk past a large fish-tank. It was pretty much situated in the middle of the open flat. In it were two goldfish swimming calmly, merely floating peacefully in the water. In the reflection of the glass you could see Steven zooming from one side to the other gathering the last few things to complete the dinner “presentation”. A fond smile graces your lips when you notice the postcards and quotes around the tank. Some were handwritten post-it notes with french phrases written on them. You move on and keep wandering through the apartment.

You are brought back from your thoughts, when you step into…sand? You notice a ring of sand around Stevens bed, this reminds you once again of the fact that no one knows of your location or these boys. You are in the midst of contemplating a text to your friends when you hear Steven shout- ‘Love, dinner is ready!’ You quickly put your phone back into your bag. You shuffle towards the living room table and try not to fold over at the domestic image before you. Steven is wearing a cute white apron with red strawberries printed on it. In one hand he is holding a bottle of wine, you bite back a smile when you notice he is trying to open the bottle and is visibly struggling.

It’s probably because he forgot to take off the right oven-mitt and the corkscrew keeps slipping out between the fabric. You make your way over to him and envelope his mitt-covered hand with yours slipping the corkscrew out of his limp hand easily. After opening the bottle you sniff at it, checking for the scent and humming at the familiar smell of red wine. ‘Next time, maybe try it without the oven-mitts’ you say with a teasing lilt in your voice and look up at him.

You’d taken off your shoes when you had entered the flat, leaving you in only your wool socks. You have to slightly look up at him only to see him…gazing. He looks at you with a content and loving expression, his eyes shiny and his cheeks flushed. He is breathing steadily and you can feel the warmth radiating off of him and you want to reach out again and smother him in affection that is definitely too early to be giving at this point of your relationship.

You’d moved between him and the table, leaving you wedged in between. You feel yourself getting lost in his eyes, the never ending deep essence in them seemingly carrying so much weight. The eyes, surrounded by tired and reddened skin, made him look that much more vulnerable, making your heart flutter even further for him. You break your eye-contact when you look down at the bottle, and move to hold it up to Steven. ‘Will you do the honours?’ you say with a cheeky smile. ‘Oh, it would be my absolute pleasure darling.’ he says while taking the bottle out of your hand, lingering more than necessary, making the tingle in your fingertips return once again. You keep watching him as he fills up both of your glasses.

‘Alright, I think everything is ready. Take a seat.’ Steven takes off the apron, gestures at the chair in front of him and pulls it out for you, motioning at you to take a seat. You hate how much the gentleman spiel is working on you, but there is a reason why it was established so long ago isn’t there. People doing things specifically to make your life easier, to protect and to impress you has got to be one of the hottest things anyone could ever do. You give in and take a seat on the comfy wooden chair and place the napkin on your lap, watching Steven as he makes his way around the table to take a seat himself. It's a small round table, it has a white table-cloth on it and two candles on a little plate placed at the centre of it. You even hear faint music playing in the back, they had clearly put effort into impressing you and it made your heart almost beat out of your chest.

‘Thank you both so much for cooking, I’m so excited to try this.’ you offer them a thankful smile and Steven returns it with a quick blush and nervous gaze. You look down at your portion of lasagna, Steven had served you half a piece of each dish so you could try them both simultaneously. You pick up your fork and dig in and it's- delicious ‘mhh this is so good omg’ you all but moan at the flavours collecting and mingling in your mouth. You look up when you don't hear any response or even soft acknowledgement toward your statement. You see Steven sitting there in front of his barely eaten vegan lasagna, staring nervously onto the plate. ‘Steven?’

Before Marc can stop it, he is teleported into fronting. It's been a long time since he was so quickly shoved into control and can’t help but feel bad for Steven for being stuck in the back in such an anticipated moment. Before he can even try and apologise to him he makes note of his surroundings realising quickly what the trigger must’ve been. Steven had taken but one bite of the vegan lasagna and had probably remembered the taste of the lasagna their dad made Marc for his birthday…the one before…before Marc can think any further about his troubling childhood memories, he hears you. ‘Steven?’ you say cautiously. shit - this is so awkward, he has to save himself and he tries to do it in the only way that comes to mind; pretending to be Steven. ‘I-i am olroight luv-oll good’ he puts on an uncomfortable grin and is admittedly kind of impressed with himself. He had previously pretended to be Steven when he used to work in the gift-shop. No-one used to talk to him there though so he just had to continue working to save face. He continues eating and pretends to take a sip of wine, trying to behave and move like Steven does.

You’re a bit confused… Just moments before, Steven seemed really happy and comfortable, now he kinda looked all stiff and was acting really strange. You wonder if they might’ve switched again because he seemed so abruptly different, or maybe one of the other guys had said something to make him nervous. Trying to take his mind off it, you distract him with friendly and curious conversation. ‘So Steven, what made you choose the lasagna as the perfect dish for tonight?’ you ask genuinely curious, already almost finished with your plate. ‘It’s an old famly recepey- o-our dad um I mean father used to make it..’ too focused on the switch of emotion in his eyes, you forget to keep looking for anything that might lead to an explanation to his strange behaviour. He looked kind of sentimental and you feel him wanting to hold things back, before you can tell him that he doesn’t have to tell you anything he’s uncomfortable with, he continues. ‘It’s one of the best memories I have with him, making this lasagna for my birthday…back when everything felt so…right…’ you sit there awestruck by the raw emotion on his face. The warm candle-light reflecting in his tear-welled eyes and casting beautiful shadows on his face, you’re mesmerised. He huffs out a deep breath and clears his throat, lifting his head back up to meet your gaze, smiling at you softly. ‘It’s basically the only thing I know how to make properly’. You don’t notice his accent changing from a bad british, to a chicagen one and instead compliment him on the great job he did.  ‘Well, it’s very delicious.’ you say contentedly and faintly see his face turn a soft pink at your praise. 

‘Oi! So you’re allowed to tell her all about our business but I'm not? That’s very rich of you Marc, you...you hypocrite!’ Steven exclaims into Marc's consciousness, entirely pissed at the fact that Marc basically stole his date from him. ‘Shut up, Steven-’ Marc says through gritted teeth, trying to hide his slip up with a badly timed fake cough. Despite Marc's effort, you hear him, finally putting all the pieces together and notice that you might be facing Marc right now and not Steven. You feel a sense of excitement at meeting this new alter and can’t wait to find out more about him. It did bug you a little that he was trying to pretend to be Steven instead of just telling you, but still, you understood his apprehension since this wasn’t a regular situation for either of you. You hear Marc clear his throat and bring your attention back to him. ‘I’m so glad you loike it dahrlin we really did ouah behst’ now that you had connected the dots to this man being Marc, you had a really hard time trying to ignore the terrible british accent. You hold your breath slightly, keeping back a bubble of laughter and continue eating after smiling at him politely. ‘Marc you’re making me sound like a complete knobhead. I’m an academic for christs-sake, you could at least pretend to have some semblance of respect for me.’ Steven is a petty man, entirely unhappy with his situation, he finds it in his right to make Marc's life a bit harder right now. Another cough is heard from Marc when you hear him mutter something into his napkin. ‘Are you okay? Would you like some water?’ 

‘hmm?? No no alls good, sweets’ he quickly disputes. Now, that you can’t ignore. Despite your biggest efforts you burst into laughter, your stomach hurting from it. You feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes and see Marc gradually joining you, surely laughing just as hard as you, pressing his palms into his eye-sockets. ‘Sweets??? Really?? Steven has never called me sweets- ever’ you trail off into another fit of laughter. Marc calms down and catches his breath. 

‘Dammit- I really thought i’ve heard him say that one before’ you’re laughter dying down, you look at each other, the smiles still glued to your faces and they don’t seem to diminish even after a few minutes. ‘So…what gave me away?’ he asks curiously. ‘You have by far the worst english accent i have ever heard.’ ‘what! That was my best performance by far!’ He puts up an offended act, making you giggle and you try your best to look serious. ‘I'm so sorry to telly you, but you were terrible’ you can't keep a straight face and once again the laughter returns into the room and you wipe your eyes. He extends his hand across the table and you reach out and shake it.

‘I’m Marc’ He says, looking relieved to be able to speak in his own voice and accent once more. You introduce yourself to him and eventually, you both continue eating the lasagna and move into casual conversation. Marc tells you about how he reminded Steven of the fact that every restaurant was closed and how turbulent their day had been. How he cleaned up the apartment and tried to organise Stevens books only to give up after 2 hours and just shoving them under the bed. Cooking for you and making sure that they looked presentable, forcing Steven to use a hair-product and to put on a proper, nice shirt. At the mention of  his shirt, you trail your eyes over him. Noticing how comfortable he looked. He had folded his sleeves up to his elbow, exposing his forearms. He looked so good like this, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of him. You’d stopped listening and at some point he had stopped talking, looking at you smugly and analysing your reaction towards him. He slightly moved his hand, clenching and unclenching it. He sees you biting the inside of your lip and hears Steven in his head ‘Gods she is so beautiful like this’ ‘mmhm, she is…’

the sound of Marc's gravelly voice rips you out of your daydreams, feeling your ears heating up violently. ‘You havin’ fun there, sweetheart?’ Marc says while raising his left eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest, making them look even thicker. ‘I-oh heh…sorry’ you scratch an invisible itch on the side of your neck, and look away from him, averting your gaze from his playful smirk. You felt his gaze staying on you and can’t keep yourself from turning your head back towards him and feeling your entire body buzzing with electricity. Marc was much more intense than Steven, looked intimidating, in the best way.

He looked like he could protect anyone from anything, like he’d do anything for those he loved. His gaze, steady and confident, sure of himself but also guarded, like he wasn’t gonna show you everything right away. He wasn’t Steven afterall, who was the exception, the only man to expose himself completely to everyone without even trying to hide his genuine feelings and intentions. They were so different, all of them so unique and so unlike the other. You feel warmth spread through your body like a warm current passing from your head to your toes. ‘Nono, don’t apologise’ he leans on the table and reaches for your other hand resting on the table, holding it gingerly in his, making circles with his thumb over your hand. 

You watch the movement and look at his hand caressing yours, revelling in the returning fuzzy feeling in your mind and the tingles emitting from his touch. You feel his heartbeat again, slow and steady, like a confident but soft stomp. You feel his calloused thumb making soothing circles and close your eyes at the different sensations, humming contentedly. ‘Hmm’ you humm with the familiar song playing in the back, it was a track from Natalia Lafourcade ‘Caminar bonito, my favourite-’ before you can finish the thought, you hear the chair before you slide backwards over the floor. You look up and see Marc, standing next to you and he tugs you upwards to stand with you.

Now you’re both standing and he tugs you towards the open space in front of the huge archway that they had made into Stevens' bookcase. You’re standing flush against him, chests close together and he takes your left hand in his, intertwining your fingers and moves his other hand to your waist.

His thumb continues soothing you and you place your other hand on his shoulder. You start swaying to the beat of the song, easing into each other's movements. You rest your head on his shoulder and he moves his hand, which was resting on your waist, to the middle of your lower back. You move your intertwined hands closer to you, hugging them towards you and move your other hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, softly petting his grown out locks at the back of his neck. Gently swaying from side to side you continue humming to the record. Several minutes later you look up at him and see him already looking at you. Feeling and hearing your heart-beats synced up and the soft beat of the music was making your vision almost blurry. Both of you softly sway to the music, pattering your sock-covered feet on the hardwood floor. He untangles your fingers and holds your hand in his, you feel his hand on your lower back lead you to make a twirl. You both smile and you successfully make the twirl and end up that much closer to him.  Your noses brushing and his, grazing your left cheek.

You let out a soft wavering breath and you look into his eyes. They were darker than before, you would recognise that look from any distance and you know that this wasn’t Marc nor was it Steven, you were certain of it. 

He speaks up, only confirming your suspicion. ‘¿Me dejas besarte, hermosa?’

a/n: This one is alot longer lmao but i promised the date so here it issss. In the next part Jake ensures that you get home safely and drives you back in his pretty car. Get ready for a cliche rain-kiss and a mysterious cliffhanger ;)

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[mazeinthemiroh]

Hi! i hope your having a good day. i love your work and was wondering if you could maybe do skz headcannons with an idol s/o who’s the main dancer in their group?

stray kids with their main dancer idol! s/o

genre: headcanons; fluff, general, idol! s/o

word count: 0.8k

warnings: none

pls like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

bangchan

chan is always keen on self-improvement and finds that you help a lot

if he feels he's lacking in the dance department, the likelihood is he'll seek you out

not that he'll ever directly ask for help lmao

but sometimes you can just sense it and take the hint

he appreciates how much of a perfectionist you can be with your art. he's the same, of course

he feels like your brains are more similar than he thought to begin with, and through understanding how you work he recognises how much you focus and try hard to be the best, which is so attractive to him

lee know

is intrigued by your technique

that's how you piqued his interest before you even started dating him

being a professional dancer, he can pick out the superior dancers from each group with ease

you were easy for him to pin-point as the main dancer of your group because of your raw talent

so, he wanted to work and even perform with you

and since then, he has never once looked back

currently, you're his dancer partner, and dare i say the best fan-favourite couple ever. your chemistry when you work together is seriously unmatched

people are always waiting for your next collab

changbin

he literally thinks you're the best dancer in the industry and stands behind that statement

anytime his friends wanna tease him he's like "okay but are you dating the best dancer in the business? that's what i thought"

gets a good rise outta wooyoung tbh and he gets super competitive but we move

he loves bragging about your achievements bruh

he doesn't have time to talk about himself when he's wayyy too busy hyping you up

he's so proud of you like?? he can't help himself as embarrassed as it sounds. you just gotta go with it

he just wuvs you and wants to tell literally everyone he meets about your awesomeness ;-;

hyunjin

similar to lee know, hyunjin would want to work with you

he can't help but be enthralled by your beauty when you're performing

encourages you to do solo performances just so you get the time to showcase what you can do

wants to learn more classical ballroom dances with you because he's a hopeless romantic and is cheesy like that

he's just so in love

will probably write poetry about you and draw a dynamic, abstract painting of you dancing just cos you inspire him so much

idk you get him so mushy it's so cute

probably cries buckets when you do a super emotional contemporary dance, because... you know... its hyunjin

han

i mean it doesn't matter what position you are in as an idol, han jisung is a supportive bf no matter what and is literally your biggest fan

if you're the main rapper? he'll learn all your rap verses off by heart

if you're the lead singer? he'll dramatically sing your own group's songs until you hate it

and you being the main dancer? well, you best believe he's learning all the choreography

especially if you do solo work, my gosh

from the minute your new music video drops he's like "baby, where do you get those hips from??"

he's down bad, basically

felix

mr. heart eyes

he literally... oh my gosh

i can't even-

he literally is obsessed with the way you move like oh my goshhhh i cannot stress this enough

you got him feeling things he's never felt before, ouch

his eyes are always fixed on you during your performances, and yes the cameraman has both caught and exposed him for having his jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes sparkly and wide as he watches you dance

the fans and i other idols get a good chuckle out of his reactions

seungmin

he takes such an interest in how your work is doing

and he loves it when you do the same

he finds you have the same love and passion for dancing as he does with regard to singing

and that common ground is beautiful

it allows the conversation to flow so easily as you bond with your similar interests

the fact that you're both idols helps too, of course

gets so blushy thinking about how stunning you are when you dance. he's like a little boy when he sees you in action

he doesn't know how to react to his soulmate being so effortlessly talented

jeongin

amazed by you

but doesn't easily show it

lowkey wants to learn more from you but is too shy to ask directly, at first

so he'll get you in a dance studio and teach you how to do the iconic 'maknae on top' hips move, just for funsies

and then he'll casually ask you what your fave move is

and from there, he will learn how to improve from you

he admires you so much, sometimes he just has a hard time articulating that to you

so spending time with you and working on dance - something you both love - is how he expresses that

[book-place]

Twice Cursed

Warnings: mentions of death and curses, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Batfamily x reader platonic

Request: Hello!! Can I pls request a batfam x ghost! reader (yes, again). You had died about 10 years before Bruce was born so you've been there for quit some timeYou've never hurt anyone (atleast not intentionally) so they let u stay. You're shy and youve never talked above a whisper so sometimes its difficult to hear you. You also get scared very easily so let's say you're taking you're daily stroll around the manner, humming your favorite tune when all of a sudden, you turn the corner and bump into Alfred. He let's about a small "oh" meanwhile you let out a loud screech and cover your eyes. This took him by surprise since he's never heard you be this loud. You slowly take your hands off of your eyes to reveal a flushed, embarrased, face. "Sorry," you whispered, "that took me by surprise" you said before disappearinginto the walls before he could even sat anything.This had happened again throughout the whole day but instead it was with Jason, Tim, Damian, and Bruce

Request by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: You aren’t able to hear as well as normal, and it freaks you out

A/N: I don’t love this, but it’s all I can write rn

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

You were cursed. Well, yes, you were cursed to be a ghost for the rest of eternity with your soul tied to the manor you died in. But you were cursed in a different way because today you kept being taken by surprise.

That wasn’t something that happened very often with you because a not so commonly known fact about ghosts was that they actually had an exquisite sense of hearing. So in reality, you should have seen it all coming.

It first started with Alfred, the butler in the manor that you lived in. The two of you talked more than you did with most of the other ones, him always happy to have a lovely chat with you, who he had known since he first began working in the home.

You had begun a routine many decades back where every morning when the sun was just coming up and all of the curtains were thrown wide open from the windows, allowing beautiful light to illuminate the halls, you would take a stroll and admire its beauty.

Long ago, you had figured out all of the ins and outs of being what you were and had mastered the art of solidifying and un-solidifying yourself on command. It was mainly used when you wanted to grab something or when you actually wanted to walk instead of just floating a couple inches off the ground, like now.

What you hadn’t realized though, was that Alfred was just about to turn the corner at an intersection that you were just about to round as well.

The two of you both realized too late that the other person was there, and you both stumbled back, Alfred breathing out a small, “Oh,” of surprise.

You on the other hand, let out a terrified shriek, falling backwards, your hands flying up to your mouth. Not only were you not used to actually touching a human being- something you didn’t like doing- but you hadn’t heard him coming. Being snuck up on was something that hadn’t happened to you since before your death.

Alfred’s eyes widened for a different reason now, having never heard you speak above a whisper, let out a full blown yell.

“Y/n-“ He tried to speak, but you had already un-solidified and rushed into the nearest wall to get as far away from the situation as possible.

Whenever something was upsetting you, you always went to the attic, one of the only rooms almost never used, just for some alone time to clear your head. And that’s exactly what you did after your last exchange with Alfred until you had calmed down enough to leave once again.

To say that was weird would be an understatement, that had never happened to you before and it was puzzling to say the least.

You shook your head to yourself slightly, trying to laugh off the small error made by you as you walked in your materialized form, only to run into someone once again.

Jason barely budged from the impact, but his eyebrows raised in surprise, “What the-“

For the second time this morning, you let out a shriek, hands flying up to cover your mouth. As you turned on your heel to scurry away once more, you hit someone else, them being pushed back on impact this time.

“Hey, are you-“ Tim couldn’t even finish his sentence before you had pushed past him and disappeared into the nearest wall, leaving him and a very confused Jason behind.

When you returned to the attic, your head was buried in your hands and you shook it back and forth, trying to figure out what was the matter with you, only for you to run into someone- well, two someone’s. Again.

Damian and Bruce both adopted similar looks of shock, as you let another yell slip off of your lips, but this time it was one of frustration, because you yet again hadn’t sensed that they were there.

“Are you alright?” Bruce asked softly.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered, pulling your hands away from your face, “You just caught me by surprise.”

Damain raised an eyebrow, “I thought that didn’t happen to you?”

“I guess it does now,” Your voice was still soft as you spoke and you nervously played with your fingers.

The older man smiled softly, “That’s okay, Y/n, it happens to the best of us.”

Your head snapped up to him, “It does?”

He nodded his head, “Jason, Tim, and Alfred were just telling me about how this happened to them, and if that’s the case that means that their vigilante instincts aren’t sharp today.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“You say that you couldn’t hear them coming, but they also couldn’t hear you, which they normally could do.” He explained patiently.

Your mouth dropped open slightly in realization.

“It’s just an off day,” He continued softly.

You nodded your head along, mulling his words over, “Just an off day,” You finally agreed, looking at the duo with a small smile.

Perhaps you weren’t two times cursed after all.

The Superior Robin ❤️- @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker @i-writes-things @ladyagagaslefttoe