#a perfect sand dollar i found on the beach | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notiddygothgf · 1 year ago

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❛ Talk to me, baby. I'm goin' blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa-oh. Let's lose our minds and go fucking crazy. I-I-I-I-I-I keep on hoping we'll eat cake by the ocean. ❜

★ pairings: choso kamo x f!reader

★ synopsis: you and choso find a way to beat the heat.

★ c.w.: sexual tension, PWP, porn without plot, happy ending! au?, idk everyone's happy lol, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, cowgirl in the backseat, creampie, blowjobs, choso has mommy issues lowkey, and the reader caters to them lowkey. dom/sub undertones, choso doesnt know how to deal with his horniness lol, old fashioned, nasty ass sex, just read it you'll love it.

★ a/n: hi baby girls!! I have been holding onto this one for a MINUTE bc I wanted to make sure it's perfect. im doin a lil bit of a kinktober, so send those requests in! I hope u all love it as much as I do. bitchz w mommy issues wya???🗣️🗣️

★ w.c.; 8.6k

masterlist

CHOSO LOVED THE BEACH. Not for the reason one might normally proclaim such affection for an otherwise family-friendly pastime, but it was a valid reason nevertheless. He used to hate it, actually, especially when Getou and Mahito would drag him out there on the hottest day of the summer for their stupid villain conventions. He was quite comfortable at home in all of his layers. But there was something about the beach these days, something that had him reconsidering his bias.

Call him classless, call him perverted. Whatever it was, there was this strange pull towards the beach that had him in a chokehold. He just couldn’t quite place it.

“You’re staring,” Megumi remarked.

Choso’s brow quirked. Letting his head loll to the side, teetering just off the edge of his beach chair, he offered the following words to his brother’s friend. “No, I wasn’t.”

He totally was. The way his sun glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as you walked past the two was a dead giveaway. But, shit, you looked too good to be true. You were this pretty little thing, strutting around in a pretty pink bikini, soaking in the rays of sunlight, and you were bringing a drink to your friend, Maki. Looked like a lemonade. Also looked like booze. It could have been anything, in all honesty, he wasn’t looking there.

If there was a god out there, he hoped they would forgive him for his ravenous gaze. He had always had a little thing for you, if you will, but the moment you had walked onto the beach today he found himself completely enamored by you.

As you bent down to set the drink in the sand, the bottom of your small pink bikini slipped inward, revealing the smooth, sand-dusted skin of your plump little butt. Then you plopped down on the beach towel next to your friend and popped open the bottle of sunscreen.

Choso watched – rather shamelessly – as you sprayed some of it onto you arm, rubbing it in. You held the canister towards your chest at arms length and released some more of the sheer spray onto the skin there. It trickled down, catching the light of the sun, dripping down between your breasts–

A pair of hairy, pale legs obstructed the view.

“Found a sand dollar,” Spoke none other than the world’s quirkiest little brother, Yuuji Itadori. In a rather fitting slow-pan up to his face, Choso took note of the dorky goggles that he had popped over his eyes. He was shirtless. You would think that the man would have learned that you don’t need to go deep sea diving at the beach by now. “You guys coming?”

Megumi took the words right out of Choso’s mouth. Or, actually, ‘word’ might be more fitting.

“No.”

“I’ll pass,” Choso sighed, repositioning his sunglasses over his eyes. Silently, of course, he cursed his brother for putting on such a show in front of – what was he talking about? Choso Kamo… letting his desires cloud his love for his brother? He usually wasn’t this bad. “I thought I threw those out on you?”

“I bought new ones,” Yuuji muttered. He practically tore the goggles from his face, sending locks of pink hair standing up in the air. Tossing them to the side, he plopped between Megumi and Choso on the picnic blanket.

“Of course you did,” Megumi, who had, for a brief – but beautiful – moment been alluded into believing his friend had decided to keep his remarkable lack of social awareness to himself, reached into the cooler they had filled earlier that day and produced a much needed refreshment.

“Hi!”

Choso, Yuuji and Megumi all turned their heads toward the sound.

It was you. His ‘crush’, as Yuuji had embarrassingly called it. And, shit, you looked even prettier up close. Your hair looked so soft. So did your–

He shook the thoughts away.

“Sorry to bother ‘ya,” You lowered your head apologetically. You extended your arm out towards the three men. Clutched in your small hand was the bottle of sunscreen you had been using before Yuuji had caught Choso’s attention. “My friend is out cold. Could you just get my back for me?”

Choso felt his face grow red at the mere prospect of being so close to you. He had never had the courage to actually reach out and touch you. He felt as if, for some odd reason he didn’t quite understand, his touch would have killed you. You had always been so sweet to him, offering him small talk, refreshments, and friendly jokes when it was just the two of you away from the group.

“Not a problem, Sensei,” Yuuji replied rather quickly.

He reached for the bottle. Before he could grab it, Megumi jabbed his elbow harshly into the back of Yuuji’s neck.

“Bitch, ow,” He hissed.

The glare Megumi shot him could have been heard from ten miles away. Choso sighed, refraining from shaking his head.

“I think he’s sick. I’ll bring him to the infirmary,” Megumi added quietly, standing up rather abruptly and taking Yuuji with him.

Yuuji babbled mindlessly the whole way back.

Highschoolers.

Choso looked back to you. Just you. Alone. He felt his hands get all clammy again. He blamed it on the sun. You were holding the bottle expectantly.

“Uh… I can… I can help, if you’re okay with that,” He looked away, internally kicking himself for fumbling so hard.

You only tilted your head at him. Your eyes were so pretty, wide open as they lingered over his body, his eyes, his nose. Your gaze was a wildfire spreading over the expanse of his face.

It was then that he realized he was very, very shirtless.

“‘Kay, thanks,” you smiled softly.

As you laid down on the beach blanket, Choso felt his heart race even faster. He could hardly believe this was all happening – hell, part of him wondered if he had overstepped by offering his services to you. The sun beat down on your skin, his head, the sand – he blamed the warmth flooding his face on the weather.

You were laid on your stomach only a few inches away, completely oblivious to his moral dilemma.

He took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself while he reached for the bottle of sunscreen you had set onto the blanket beside you. With hands that trembled ever-so-slightly, he uncapped the bottle and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. The sunscreen was cool to the touch – so, not wanting to cause you even the slightest bit of discomfort, he warmed it up between his hands.

He then hesitantly placed his hands on the smooth valley of your upper back.

You gasped, twitching beneath his palms.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked quickly, withdrawing his hands.

“No, sorry,” You sighed, shifting on the blanket and then relaxing once more. “Your hands are cold ‘s all.”

Choso felt the blush coming on all over again. He hoped you wouldn’t turn your head back around and see him like this. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, averting his gaze.

“You’re all good, hot stuff,” You offered. “You can keep going.”

His face burned like hell at your compliment. He knew you were that way with everyone, dropping little ‘babe’s and ‘honey’s to your friends and fellow sorcerers. He wasn’t anything special, anyway. Surely, you weren’t talking to him.

He replaced his hands on your back, touch delicate like your skin would crack if he pressed too hard. He started with broad strokes, making sure to spread the sunscreen across your skin evenly. His fingers splayed out over your warm, soft skin, moving in circles. He massaged the sunscreen into your back with a tenderness that surprised even himself.

He wasn’t sure what this stuff actually did. He had seen some of Yuuji’s Jujutsu friends slather some on earlier. Judging by the name, he assumed it protected them from the sun. From what, though? Could the sun hurt some humans? He didn’t really understand.

“You’re wondering something,” You asked, seemingly sensing his pensiveness by the way his hands slowed. “Ask away.”

Choso bit the skin on the inside of his lip, “This lotion…” he asked, “What does it do?”

“Sunscreen?” You hummed. “It forms a layer over your skin so you don’t get sunburnt.”

“Sunburnt…” He reiterated.

“Yeah, that shit hurts,” You added. “I’m guessing Itadori never gave you the run-up on beach necessities…?”

“I guess not,” He remarked quietly.

“I can show you how to apply yours if you want,” You said.

Choso’s heart felt like it would burst. “Okay,” he said, pausing slightly. “I’d like that, thanks.”

Then he was back to his job. His hands smoothed over your back, dipping down a little lower until his thumb brushed against the strap of your bikini. He felt suddenly aware of how soft and warm you felt beneath his touch.

He was dangerously close to the knot in the string that held your whole getup together. He worried for a moment that the dainty bow would come undone – by some strange, supernatural turn of events – despite him making a great effort to move around it.

Choso’s breath hitched when his finger caught on the string, making the knot snap against your skin. He froze up, heart pounding in his chest, perfectly still over your body. The string felt like a fragile barrier between your warm skin and his cold touch, between your body and the thoughts that raced through his mind.

He wondered if you found him weird and off-putting. His gaze flickered up to your face, leaning over slightly, searching your face for any sign of discomfort.

But when he looked into your eyes, he found you were looking at him with the same curiosity. You smiled at him, pretty lips forming a reassuring expression, wordlessly encouraging him to keep going.

Slowly, unsurely, Choso continued his ministrations. He trailed two digits down your spine, stopping at the string. He felt a knot beneath the skin there. He knew sorcerers put themselves through rigorous training. He didn’t doubt that you were feeling sore from the mission you had just come back from a few days ago.

“You’re tense here,” He said quietly.

You turned your head to look at him, “Yeah?”

“Right here,” He pinpointed the exact area with his knuckles, pressing deep into the tissue.

In response, you moaned quietly, back shifting beneath his touch. His shorts seemed to get just a little bit tighter.

Calm down.

“You got magic hands, Choso,” You quipped, though your voice was strained as he passed over the knot a second time. “You could be a masseuse.”

He felt his nerves subside only slightly, though he felt flustered by your words.

You got magic hands.

You could be a masseuse.

Unbeknownst to him, the sensation of his touch created a pleasant tingling beneath your skin. You closed your eyes, letting him take the reins.

Choso continued to work his fingers over your back, feeling the tension slowly melt away beneath his touch. He had used up the last of the sunscreen to cover your lower back, the skin just above your bottom, and he realized his job was done.

“I think that should do it,” He said softly, voice tinged with reluctance as he removed his hands from your back.

You sat up, stretching, turning towards him, eyes sparkling, “Thanks, Cho, you’re a lifesaver.”

You’re a lifesaver.

A shy smile tugged at his lips, “Of course.”

Then, to his surprise, you asked. “You’re sweet. Mind if I sit with you?”

Choso felt his heart skip more than one beat. His eyes widened. He looked at the sand, the shoreline, anything but you. “Sure,” he said.

Smooth, dumbass.

You grinned and pushed yourself up, saying, “I’ll be right back.”

Choso took a moment to collect his thoughts as you left. He was getting ahead of himself. Way ahead of himself. Stll, you had chosen to spend more time with him. You wanted to sit with him.

Conveniently, only a brief moment after you had stepped away, Megumi returned with Yuuji in tow. Choso quirked a brow at the speed of their return.

“That was quick,” he remarked.

Megumi shrugged, “Took him to get ice cream on the boardwalk instead.”

“You get her number?” Yuuji asked.

“I was doing her a favor,” Choso’s calm facade broke. With wide eyes, he hissed, “Pervert.”

“Dumbass,” Yuuji sucked his teeth.. “Look, tonight’s the night to make a move. When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

And before Choso could respond, you came back, holding a speaker in one hand. “I brought snacks!” You smiled.

Some time around sundown, sometime after Getou had summoned up one of his low-grade curses to start a fire, the beach day transformed itself into a fireside chat. It was a picturesque scene. The sky was a canvas of blue, with hues of pink and orange painted over the horizon. It was mostly empty there, now. The waves lapped calmly at the shore, a quiet noise that seemed to accompany the quiet chatter of friends gathered around a fire.

There was laughter, groups of people indulged in conversations. Everyone seemed so calm, so happy, it almost seemed to good to be true.

Megumi and Itadori were caught in a cock-off with Maki. Nobara stargazing on her and Maki’s beach blanket. Gojo and Getou were talking in his direction, but not necessarily at him.

“I just think you have an unfair drinking advantage because you’re a man,” You were saying just off to Choso’s side.

The mood was light. Everyone seemed to be content.

Choso, however, couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. The warm, fading sunlight seemed to caress your features from the side, highlighting your pretty smile and making your eyes shimmer. He found himself completely and utterly enamored by you.

You and Getou had cracked open a bottle of Tequila about an hour ago. Getou’s boyfriend long-term-long-distance-low-commitment-casual-boyfriend, Satoru Gojo was red in the face, slouched against the bare chest revealed by Getou’s unbuttoned floral shirt.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Gojo chuckled, letting Getou top off his fourth shot of the night.

Getou denied any relationship with Gojo. Their eyes betrayed them, though. The connection was evident in the loving glances they exchanged.

You had a faint flush of your own, though you had only taken two shots so far.

He tried two of his own, only because you didn’t want to do them alone. He had never been big on drinking. He just didn’t want to seem like a pussy.

“Why don’t you pour me one so we can test that theory?” Nobara nudged you in the side.

Choso watched the scene unfold with mild interest.

“Because you’re a minor,” You said.

Nobara pouted, leaning back onto her blanket. “Not like I’ve never drank before.”

Maki chimed in over her shoulder, “Got vomit stains on my carpet to prove it.”

“Shut up,” She bit back.

You handled the situation effortlessly. “I don’t condone teen drinking,” You began, your voice softening as you continued, “But. I know the four you will probably go hit up one of those beachside bars tonight with your fake IDs anyway.”

“Fake IDs?” Gojo looked at Megumi out of the corner of his eye. Megumi did not look back.

You clapped. Choso’s ears perked up at the sound.

“That being said!” You raised your voice a bit. “I would rather you drink something less potent. Under adult supervision.”

You turned to Getou and Gojo, who exchanged knowing glances before nodding their approval. Choso couldn’t help but be impressed.

“So who wants a Malibu rum spritzer?” You clasped your hands together.

Excitement rippled through the group, and all of the kids, yes all of the kids, Including Yuuji, eagerly raised their hands.

Choso shot his brother a disapproving glare, one that dissipated the moment you leaned in, laying your head on his shoulder. Your voice, soft and smooth like your skin, enticed him as you sing-songed, “Let the kid live a little.”

It was rather remarkable, actually, how quickly his defenses melted at your gentle persuasion. He sighed in resignation. “Alright.”

You grinned up at him, effortlessly stealing his breath away.

“Great,” you said, getting up from your spot without another word. “I’ll go get them from my car. Don’t wait up for me, I walk real slow.”

Turning your attention back to Choso, you looked at him with a warmth behind your gaze he couldn’t quite place. “Choso, sweetie, could you help me carry the cooler?”

His heart soared at your request – at the prospect of you wanting his assistance. He got to his feet quickly, eager to help.

The sand felt cool beneath his feet as he followed your lead.

The moon hung low in the sky as you and Choso strolled through the parking lot, searching for your jeep. The temperature had dropped quite a few notches from earlier, cold breeze rustling through Choso’s hair.

When you spotted your ride, you said, “There it is!”

Choso followed wordlessly behind you. He was still quite nervous that – for the second time today – it was just you and him… alone. Yuuji’s words echoed through his mind.

“When else would you find yourself alone with her like this?”

You popped the door to the backseat open, sitting on the floor – your truck was raised a bit off the ground, so it didn’t put you too far below him.

“My legs are so fucking sore,” You sighed. You dusted your leg off with the backside of your bare foot. When you peered up at him through those long, dense lashes of yours, he felt himself fall for you a second time.

You asked him, “Mind if we take a little break?”

Choso nodded along like the dumb little dog he was for you.

You pushed yourself up and away from the truck, gesturing for him to get inside. It didn’t take much at all for him to step into it and take a seat. You settled in right next to him – perhaps a little closer to Choso than was strictly necessary. He couldn’nt help the pleasant shiver that went down his spine at the feeling of you sitting next to him; so warm, so soft, so perfect.

You let out a contented sigh and leaned your head on his shoulder once more. “I got tired of bein’ social,” You confessed.

He tried hard not to quirk a brow at the admission. Am I an exception?

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” He asked sincerely. He tried even harder to ignore the warm weight of your small head on his shoulder.

So close.

“No,” You hummed quietly. The interior light faded away, gently submerging the two of you in darkness. He could still see your face, your eyes – the way they seemed to sparkle as they looked up at him. “You’re different.”

Choso’s heart took the liberty of skipping one, two, three beats.

You continued without allowing him time to come up with an adequate response. “Can I be honest with you, Choso?”

His cheeks flushed. Still, curiosity piqued, he muttered, “Of course.”

Your voice was soft and vulnerable when you replied, “I think you’re really hot.”

If his face wasn’t hot, it sure was now. He turned away even though he knew you couldn’t see him blushing.

She thinks I’m hot?

Does that mean she likes me?

You had nothing but sincerity in your eyes while you gazed up at him. “You feel the same way, don’t you?”

He bit his tongue, answering honestly, “I do.”

He hated how calm and collected he sounded. On the outside, he was the image of composure. On the inside, he was dying a hundred times over.

You grinned at his admission. “Can I ask you something else, then?”

His lips suddenly felt very dry. He tried his best to focus on the street outside, counting landmarks and objects like his life depended on it – two seagulls, five wooden posts, two dim street lights.

“Sure,” he said.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked. “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

And, dammit, when you asked him like that – he could practically feel the last of his resolve crumble beneath your gaze, beneath the weight of your head on his shoulder, beneath your gentle touch on his knee that he hadn’t noticed until now.

You were so close. So close that if he turned his head, angled it down just slightly, your noses would touch. He felt your breath, warm and steady against his neck – a calming symphony that contrasted the trembling mess he had become,

Yuuji’s words played on repeat again. Tonight’s the night to make a move.

He was such a fool for you. Still, he considered himself to be a man of restraint.

His voice was small and scarce, hardly above a whisper when he breathed out, “Yeah.”

Time seemed to slow down as your request hung out in the air. He could feel the anticipation building, buzzing. His heart pounded against his ribcage like a mallet to a gong. He had spent months wondering what would happen if you – by some odd, small chance – returned his affections, and now, with your vulnerability laid bare, he couldn’t resist any longer.

He considered himself to be a man of restraint, that was, until he peered into your wide, longingful eyes.

With a barely noticeable nod, Choso turned his head just slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. Just as he had anticipated, your noses brushed together – he could feel the warmth of your breath on his lips.

You were magnetic.

And in that final, heart-pounding moment, your lips met in the middle – in a gentle, tender union. Choso’s hand seemed to find its own way to your cheek, touch soft as he cupped your cheek. He felt for some odd reason that you might vanish altogether if he let you go.

He wasn’t entirely sure if it had been you or him who deepened the kiss. Either way, he felt himself melt into the seat. The world outside seemed to fade away, ceasing to exist in your presence. None of it mattered – not the empty, public street, not the group of friends waiting on the beach for his return.

Yuuji.

Choso pulled away with a shuddering gasp, pressing his forehead against yours. He licked his lips, panting, “The drinks… We– we should probably– uh… get those.”

He feared that if his heart beat any faster he would explode.

You made no effort to put any distance between you and him. In fact, you put your hands on his shoulders, moving yourself so that you were situated comfortably in his lap.

“There’s no rush,” You hummed. “Getou and Gojo are probably off sucking face somewhere, and those kids have been keeping themselves entertained just fine. Who would notice?”

His eyes were everywhere but your face. For a half-curse, he found himself to be no better than a man, hungry eyes wandering over your body – your eyes, your lips, the subtle curve of your waist, the fabric of your bikini that seemed like it was hugging you just right.

You seemed to have caught him in the act.

“Do you wanna touch me, Choso?” You asked, and it sounded like an invitation.

Still, he worried he was reading too deeply into things. Doing his best to refrain from making you feel any sort of discomfort, he swallowed, “I…”

He was about to fucking explode – both metaphorically and physically, judging by the way his shorts began to tighten again at your words.

“You think I didn’t see you staring today?” You continued, letting your fingers slip into his hair.

He wanted to freeze up, wanted to feel some form of remorse, but when you were massaging his scalp so gently, so lovingly…

“I’m sorry,” he lied.

“Don’t be,” You giggled, and he felt his stomach do a fucking flip at the sound of it. You leaned in close to him, close to his ear, and whispered into it, “I was staring, too.”

He felt like such a virgin, thighs tensing up at your admission. He thought of you on the beach again – sneaking sideways glances at him, at his body, at him…

He felt his resolve break when you pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear.

“Kiss– Kiss me again,” he breathed, feeling slightly lightheaded from all of the attention you were giving him. You placed another kiss to the corner of his jaw. “Please… kiss me again.”

You pulled away, pressing your nose right up against his again. Your breaths were shallow and ragged now – strange. “You want me, baby boy?”

Baby boy. Baby boy, fuck.

He licked his lips, “Please.”

And then your lips were on his without so much as another word. You ate him up like a starved woman, teeth nipping at his lower lip for entry.

The last of his restraint flew out the window.

The kiss was electrifying, sent sparks shooting through his veins, fingertips tingling as they found their way to your hips. It was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He could taste you – the sweetness of your lipgloss as it smeared messily over the lower half of his face, the beat of your heart thrumming beneath his touch, the scent of sunscreen that lingered on your skin.

He found himself getting lost in the moment.

He deepened the kiss further, gripping your hips, your lower back with a bit more confidence. For a moment, he could forget about his responsibilities, his past. It didn’t matter; not now, not when he could feel your body pressed up against him, hot and soft and compliant.

His face burned when he felt that familiar tingling feeling – he knew he was getting hard beneath you, he could feel the way your hips lifted when you adjusted yourself over the tent in his shorts.

However, to his surprise, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing yourself even closer. He felt dizzy, sliding his tongue across your wet lips, exploring your mouth. You tangled your fingers in his touseled black locks, rolling your hips against his slowly, hesitantly, like you were testing the waters.

The jolt of electricity he felt from that small movement had him pulling away. Even in the midst of the fervor, Choso was acutely aware of his own impulses. He feared he was getting too far ahead of himself; if you kept rubbing yourself against him like that, he was gonna cream his fucking pants like a middle schooler.

“Wait, wait– ah–” He grunted, leaning back against the seat.

“Hmm?” You hummed – still, you only slowed down a little bit.

His mouth hung open. It felt so good, the friction, the feeling of your warmth rolling up and down the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. Fuck — why did he tell you to stop, again?

He fought hard to regain his composure. “I– I’ve never done this before,” he stammered.

“Really?” You asked, teasingly, almost, like you knew the effect you had on him. You rutted up against him again, a little harder. “You’re a natural.”

He could feel you – the thin cloth covering your nether regions left little to the imagination. You felt so warm, so welcoming. He ached to pull the thin fabric to the side and sink into you.

Fuck. Stop. He turned his head away, at war with his impulses.

Again, for a half-curse, he felt like nothing more than a man. A weak man, and it was all your fault.

The whine that left his mouth felt anything but natural. “Won’t– What if someone sees us?”

You said nothing. When he looked back at you, you were undoing the knot behind your head – the one holding your bikini together.

His eyes went wide. If his attraction to you were any more obvious, his jaw would have been on the floor.

“Let them watch,” You grinned. Then you let your top fall over, breasts spilling out like something out of a porno.

He was in awe. You were perfect. There were little bits of sand stuck to the skin where your bikini lay only seconds prior, faint tanlines already forming over your skin. He felt his mouth water.

“You can touch them, if you want,” You answered his unasked question.

And he wasted no time, gently cupping one of your tits with his large, warm palm. He gave it an experimental squeeze. Then another. Then his thumb wandered down to your nipple, giving the bud a gentle flick.

You whind, hand sliding up the back of his head.

She likes that, he noted.

So, deciding to take his experiment a step further – and for the sake of conserving time, he began peppering kisses to your hot skin, to the valley between your soft, plush mounds. He held both in his hands, rolling his thumb over the hardened buds to compensate for the lack of attention.

He wanted nothing more than to take his sweet, precious time with you – committing every curve and valley of your body to memory. But, alas, he knew you were on a time crunch. Any minute now, someone could find the two of you here, like this.

He kissed his way back over to his hands. Then, finally, he wrapped his lips around that place he knew made you feel good.

Sure enough, you arched into him, pink, swollen lips parting to release a pant of his name, “Choso, baby.”

He flattened his tongue over the tip of your nipple, rolling over it in slow circles – then quicker ones, until he felt the spit gathering between his lips and your skin. You responded in kind by rutting against him a little faster. He had never felt a burn quite so delightful in his life.

He can’t quite help himself from letting out a little whine when you tug on his hair. The flavor of sunscreen and salt lingered on your skin. He felt hot– you were hot, oh so hot.

Before he could return the favor on the other nipple, you pushed him away. You looked disheveled, pupils blown wide, hair frizzed up.

“Y’feel so big,” You gasped, still humping his hard cock like a dog in heat. You stopped, but only to sink into the space between his legs and the back of the driver’s seat. Splaying your fingers over his thighs, his shorts, you panted, “Wanna taste. Can I?”

He could only blink up at you. This isn’t real.

“Of course, baby,” He replied, throwing the nickname from earlier back at you, already reaching for the strings of his swim trunks when you batted his hands away. Your enthusiasm made his head spin.

He let you take the reigns – watching with hungry, lustful eyes as you undid the bow yourself. You reached for the waistband of his shorts, tugging them down and letting his dick spring free.

It nearly hit you in the face, how big the thing was. He had never actually thought about it that way, at least, not until now, when you were gazing up at it with wide eyes and wet, parted lips.

Your eyes were on his tip, glistening with a bead of precum, then wandering down the shaft as the two of you watched it drip.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked.

You didn’t bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Choso exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – he thought he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and he didn’t really think he would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. He felt himself throb in your mouth.

“Fuck, ‘s good,” He heard himself whimper weakly, tangling a trembling hand in your hair while you picked up the pace.

And you went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Over and over again, until his vision blurred a bit at the edges, mind a little hazy with lust.

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly – fuck, he could die like this.

You didn’t show any signs of stopping, either.

He moaned – much to his embarrassment – actually moaned. You were working him rather quickly up to what he knew would be an earth shattering (albeit poorly timed) orgasm.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that he didn’t even mind.

Choso caressed the side of your face, biting his lip. “Mmh,” he panted, “You do it so well.”

In response, you put a hand over his. You directed his gentle touch to the top of your head, instructing him to push down. Hesitantly, gently, he began to guide your head, bobbing you back and forth on his length while you sat back and let him use you.

He noticed that you were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth. He saw that there were tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but he knew you were determined. He used his thumb to wipe your tears away, tucking your hair behind your ears to keep it out of your face.

With a shudder and a whine, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck dick.

If this was to be his last night alive, he would die a happy man.

His legs felt weak, as did his arms. You took over, gently assisting him in fucking your mouth.

“Ah– nnh, you’re–” He licked his lips, guiding your head while allowing you to continue setting your own pace. You were making him feel so good, so hot.

You pulled back for a moment to slurp unceremoniously on his tip, letting spit drip down his shaft. You wrapped your hands around him, working what you couldn’t fit into your mouth while your tongue did tricks on his tip – circles, shapes, letters, he didn’t even know anymore.

He felt like he was going dumb.

Just as he leaned his head back into the seat, you pulled off, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Got carried away,” You giggled breathlessly. “Sorry.”

Then you were climbing right back into his lap, bracing your hands on his shoulders, kissing him with a ravenous hunger.

“I’m not gonna blue ball you, don’t worry,” You licked your lips. Reaching down, you slipped the fabric of your bikini thong to the side. “I want you.”

“H–...” He trailed off, fighting to catch his breath – better yet, to regain his surroundings. “How do you want me?”

In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to feel you sink down onto him, to feel your warmth envelop him entirely. He wanted you to ride him past the point of hypersensitivity. He wanted you to use him until you were satisfied – like some sort of fuck toy.

He didn’t care anymore. He had left his inhibitions at the door.

“Wanna fuck you right here, like this,” You muttered against his lips, licking a stripe from his chin all the way to his cupid’s bow. You guided the head of his dick between your folds, smearing your slick all over him in a way that made him arch up. “Wanna drain that pretty cock of yours, wanna cum all over it– can you do that for me?”

You were so nasty… so dirty that he found himself a red, blushing mess at your words. But, still…

For you?

Anything.

“Yes,” he groaned. He felt like he was going to melt if he waited another moment longer. “Fuck, please, use me until you’re satisfied.”

He hadn’t even thought about saying it. It had slipped out.

You paused, blinking down at him with wide, lustful eyes. Finally, you said, “you’re such a good puppy, you know that?”

He would be whatever the hell you wanted him to be.

“G’nna let me ride you, pretty boy?” You cooed, sliding your hands up his torso, up his bare chest, up his shoulders while you hovered over him.

This was moving quickly. Not like he had any objections to that, of course. Clearly, you didn’t either. As you positioned the tip in line with your dripping cunt, sinking down onto him, he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

He gasped, letting his eyelids fall shut. He didn’t even care that he was losing his virginity in the backseat of his coworker’s truck like some cheap whore. He would let you take it, take more, take everything you wanted from him.

You lifted your hips and then sank down on him again, eliciting a strangled grunt of your name from him. The filthy squelching sound your cunt made as it squeezed him in threw him for a loop.

He leaned forward, shivering, burning his head in your neck. “S’too tight,” he panted, though he let you continue working on him with a remarkable amount of ease – sliding back and forth in a way that had the both of you panting for more. “Fucking– shit, ah–”

“Chosooo– ‘S so big,” You moaned his name like it was made of honey, fucking yourself down onto his dick, letting all of the sinful noises flow from your lips. “Fuck, feel it in my guts.”

He would have thought you were lying to him if it weren’t for your spectacle earlier.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he breathed. When he looked up at you again, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. You were the image of pornographic beauty – sinful, beautiful, sultry. Your brows were scrunched together with concentration, legs trembling around him as you slowed down to savor the way he worked you open.

“Pretty baby,” He mused, running his hands over your stomach, your hips. “You keep goin’ like that ‘n– fuck– I won’t– Last long.”

“Mmh,” you giggled.

Then you picked up the speed a bit, like you hadn’t even heard what he had just said. You were rising and sinking on his dick with newfound purpose, chasing after the promise of paradise like a wild animal.

“Look at me,” he begged, eyes half-lidded and desperate, tongue running across his lower lip. “Fu-uck– please, ‘M...”

You obeyed, meeting his gaze with such a fiery passion that he almost wished he hadn’t asked you – feeling that coil in his gut grow a little tighter when your hazy eyes were on him. You bounced obediently on his cock, up and down, up and down until you were a grunting, groaning mess.

“Mm… fuckkk,” You sighed, hips faltering a bit. “Feels good, Choso.”

Choso felt his hips twitch beneath you, hands tensing on your backside. Then, slowly, he began to meet your thrusts midway. His ass lifted off of the seat, legs spreading a bit further apart while he used his strength to continue fucking you senseless.

He was mesmerized by you, by the way you clenched and squeezed him, by the way your mouth lolled open to make way for broken cries of his name, by the way your tits bounced in his face whenever he thrusted up into you.

He worried for a moment that he was being too harsh with you.

“Harder– please!” You gasped, clawing at his shoulders, at his chest.

Still, he obeyed. He fucked you dumb, hips snapping up against your ass with such strength that the whole car lurched forward. Your head came dangerously close to the ceiling.

But he didn’t have the guts to stop. Not when you were screaming for him, repeating his name like some sort of mantra. He was as weak for you as he had always been.

“Choso– Choso–”

The feeling of your warm, wet walls massaging the head of his cock had him whimpering into the crook of your neck. It was a hot, gummy abyss he wouldn’t mind getting sucked into for the remainder of his life.

“You like that?” He asked you, spare hand sliding up from your hips, past your breasts, to your neck.

He knew now that you liked it rough. He could provide that.

So, with no further warning, he gripped your hip roughly, sliding into you at full force. You cried out his name again, fingernails digging into his skin.

The car bounced every time he pounded up into you. Faster, faster.

It felt like you were squeezing him for dear life.

Choso cried out, a broken whine as he slowed his thrusts for a minute to a much slower pace. Feeling your perfect pussy clenching around him, he nearly doubled over from the sudden pleasure. “Please,” he gasped, laying his head back. “Fuck, that’s good.”

You bit your lip, sliding up until it was just the tip left inside of you, and then slamming back down onto him at full force. You repeated this action a few more times, lips parted to make way for the sinful… sultry moans that passed from between them. Clearly, you were relishing in the way he squirmed and gasped beneath you.

He couldn’t blame you. He knew that he, too was doing everything he could to commit this scene to memory, wild eyes raking over your body, over the junction where you met him. The way you were riding him… shit, he didn’t know he would be able to make the walk back.

You looked so obscene like this, all fucked out, dumb on his dick.

Throwing your head back, you groaned.

He was gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. Fuck, he knew that– cursed strength and all. But he couldn’t bring himself to slow down.

“So f-fucking good,” he stammered. He sought out your lips again, snapping his hips up against your ass mercilessly. For someone who had been so concerned about being discovered a little while ago, his quiet grunts and gasps turned into moans and whimpers against your sore lips. Louder and louder.

Admittedly, though, he was more focused on the noises coming out of your own mouth. You were practically screaming for him.

He had no idea that sex could even feel so mind-numbingly good. For him, especially, but for you…?

You froze up rather suddenly, hips spasming wildly, toes curling up on either side of his thighs while you gasped brokenly.

“FUCK!”

There it was.

He felt his face burn. You cried his name again, bouncing up and down on it, wildly chasing after that high. “Choso– m’close–”

“You gonna cum, pretty girl?” He hummed, once again throwing your nickname back at you. He grinned, knowing full and well that he had cracked the code. So he kept that same speed, same pace, same everything while his fingers dropped from your neck to the mess you had made between the two of you.

He knew what to do now – surprisingly enough. He had done some… internet research after his brother had broken the meaning of his feelings down to him (along with what Choso was to do when his crush came to fruition).

What? Curses didn’t make love. Sex was transactional.

He was curious about how sex was on the human side of things.

He ran his tongue over his thumb, reaching between the steamy, sweaty union of your bodies to find your clit. He pressed down, rolling over the nub in quick, expert circles.

One look up at you, and he knew you were close to your breaking point. You looked like you were about to pass out, letting yourself be thrown around on his wild hips like a ragdoll. You were too weak to move, so you sat there and took his dick like a good girl, eyes glazed over with pleasure while he fucked you dumb.

You looked like you were in love.

Choso sped his ministrations over your clit up a little faster, feeling the knot in his own stomach begin to grow faster than he wanted. He was in another world, out of this plane, hypnotized.

All he could see in that moment was your angelic face above him, face scrunched up in pleasure – and partially in pain, as he bullied his cock into your cervix – sweat rolling down your neck, your breasts, your voluptuous body.

“Mine–” You gasped out, clawing at his shoulder blades while your back arched. “Oh– fuck! Th’s dick ‘s mine, mmh?”

It was.

He nodded. But, clearly, that wasn’t good enough. Your hand shot out to grip him by the neck, painted fingernails digging into his throat.

“‘S yours,” He gasped back into your mouth. “All yours, I swear– ah–”

You were so hot. It made him feel things– feel like he was dying over and over again in the best way possible.

That along with the way your hand gripped his throat – using your small thumb to cut off his blood supply for a few seconds too long before loosening your grip, letting him gasp for air as the blood came rushing back – he felt lightheaded.

The way your pussy was spasming around him certainly didn’t do anything to help. He knew you were close, shit, but could you hold on a minute?

You were gonna make him cum too fast.

“You’re mine, yeah?” You asked again, keeping your grip strong on his neck. “All mine?”

“M’yours,” The cursed womb grunted against your neck. His brows were furrowed in concentration. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave marks. “All yours.”

He meant it. Even though he would have said anything you asked him to at this point, he really meant it. He hoped you knew that.

Judging by the way you came a moment later with a stutter of your hips and a strangled cry of, “Cho–”, he assumed you understood.

Your cunt was a warm, wet, death trap, walls milking his cock for all it was worth.

Shit, he thought. You really weren’t lying about that.

His dark eyes were burning into yours, burning with a desire so intense he felt he might burst at the seams if he kept looking a moment longer.

“Want you to cum inside of me,” You commanded him, holding his head in your trembling hands. “Fill me up, please, I need it.”

His eyes widened, blinking down at the white ring you had made around the base of his dick. His eyes flitted back up to you, pleading with you to let him go. Pleading for you to give the soul that you stole from him back,

“I can’t–” he released a trembling breath.

He thought of himself as a father raising a child. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“Please, ‘m on the pill,” you begged him, gazing into his eyes like you knew he wasn’t strong enough to refuse. “Wanna feel it dripping out of me. Think about it– what– ah– what would they think? … If they knew–”

You gasped when he delivered a harsh smack to your ass, slowing his strokes so that he could savor the way you sucked him in. “If they knew we snuck off to fuck? That– that I had your cum dripping out of me while they ask what took us so long?”

“Fuckk,” Choso groaned, hips trembling beneath you. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, cheeks burning. His breaths – and yours – had fogged the windows up.

You squeezed around him one more time, placing a tender kiss to his lips. You muttered into his mouth, “Do it f’me… please, Choso.”

“Mmh–!” And that was all it took. Choso rolled his hips up into you one more time, twitching, whining, feeling your warmth spasm around him as he spilled into you. He drove as deep up into you as he could – holding onto you for dear life while the coil snap, and he came so hard that his legs gave out. Lots of it.

So much that he felt it drip out.

You sought another kiss from him, sealing your lips together. When you pulled away, you giggled, “Good boy. Good puppy.”

“God,” he shuddered, falling back against the headrest once his orgasm subsided. You fell against his chest, snuggling up to him.

And Choso, not knowing what else to do, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. To his surprise, you didn’t immediately leave him in the dust. Instead, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the warmth of your post-coital bliss.

You broke the silence after a minute or two.

“So…” You began, trailing a finger up his bare chest. “Help me carry that cooler back to the beach?”

And Choso, breathless, felt himself begin to laugh.

The two of you came back onto the beach. Choso was carting the cooler behind while you walked ahead, waving your friends down.

As you approached, Itadori remarked with crossed arms, “The hell have you guys been?” His hair was done up into two, pink, little pigtails. It was clear as day that Nobara had a hand in his current hairstyle.

“Oh!” You had grinned rather awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “We– Well, we realized we didn’t have as many spritzers as I thought. Had to make a run to the liquor store.”

Itadori raised a brow. Still, if he noticed something, he didn’t say anything about it. “Uh huh.”

Choso bent down to set the cooler onto the ground, back turned to the group.

Getou peeped up from his paperback novel, lips twitching at the sight of Choso’s back. He nudged his counterpart, Gojo.

Who nearly spat out his drink.

You sat on the beach blanket nearest to Gojo and Getou. The moment your butt hit the sand, you practically collapsed into the ground.

You could feel eyes on you. So, begrudgingly, you rolled over, throwing Satoru a weak glare. “What?”

He only nodded towards Choso.

You turned around, following his gaze. It settled over his back. He bent down, picking a few spritzers out of the ice. It was then that you noticed the harsh red claw marks on his shoulderblades.

Subconsciously, your gaze drifted down to your hips, to the skin where purple imprints of Choso’s fingertips stood out as clear as day.

You gasped, then, clamping a hand over your mouth.

“So,” Gojo began casually, handing you a shot. He leaned in, ocean blue eyes twinkling as he teased you, “Was he gentle? He seems like he would give it rough.”

You turned to his not-boyfriend, brows furrowed. “Suguruuu…”

It was with no great amount of satisfaction that Getou looked up from his novel. “Satoru,” he sighed languidly. “Not in front of ths kids.”

Gojo ignored his not-boyfriend’s remark. “Was it big?”

You sank back into the blanket, feeling the heat of your embarrassment burn your cheeks as your words from earlier came back to bite you in the ass.

Who would notice?

a/n: hello there my precious little sugarplums! I hope u enjoyed the first installment of my kinktober writings ( which will prob continue throughout the fall bc I started hella late ). send in requests! there's no part two to this, but I would write one if enough ppl requested it. yk the drill though, comment ur thoughts/wishes below! I love reading them. reblogs are alway always always appreciated bc my reach is ass on Tumblr...

I obviously do not own jjk or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

credits: cover artist(s) unknown??, dividers: @bpdier, @cafekitsune

taglist: @missphanosaur18 , @bontensbabygirl, @megumissunshine, @chocoyanchan, @littlelovebug98, @lucisimpongod, @xochyw, @jaegerstan222 , @electro-supremacy, @mellytheteddy, @clover0310 , @soraya-daydreams, @priussy, @insanehumantinker, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nonksity, @hinata7346, @chososwhoresblog, @mindurownbussines , @hearts4sid , @simplefools , @ynjimenez

wanna join the taglist? | like this story? read more! | requests open!

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growthhyp · 1 month ago

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Oh this could be perfect! Hey there, I'm going on a beach vacation really soon but I realized I don't have any swim trunks. I'm kinda broke right now with college and all so I would love a cheap option. Have you got any trunks or swim wear for sale?

The Black Swim Trunks

The sun was beating down on the pavement as you scoured the rows of the garage sale, your eyes scanning for a bargain that could save your beach vacation from being a wardrobe malfunction disaster. A few sweat droplets trickled down your forehead as you approached a table with a rainbow of fabrics and patterns that looked like they hadn't seen the light of day since the 80s.

"Oh, hey," you called out to the muscular man who was organizing the pile of clothes, his biceps bulging as he tossed a Hawaiian shirt onto the table. "I'm about to go on a beach trip and realized I don't have any swim trunks. I'm kind of broke from college, so I'm hoping to find something cheap. Do you have any here?"

The man looked up from his task and scanned you over. His eyes lingered on your body, seemingly sizing you up. He nodded thoughtfully before saying, "You know, that's the second time someone's asked for swim trunks today. I've got just the pair." He reached under the table and pulled out a set of black swim trunks. They looked like they'd seen better days, but the fabric was stretchy and the price was right—just a buck. You took them without a second thought, not even bothering to check the size.

As you held the trunks in your hand, you couldn't help but notice they were oddly baggy in the front and back, almost as if they had been stretched by someone with a substantial package. You chuckled to yourself, thinking that maybe the last owner had been a bit too optimistic about their size. But hey, a dollar was a dollar, and you weren't going to argue with a good deal. You handed over the cash, and the muscular man tossed the trunks to you with a knowing smirk.

Once you were all settled in the hotel, you couldn't wait to hit the beach. You slipped into the black trunks, and to your surprise, they hugged your waist like a glove. The baggy areas in the front and back clung to your body in a way that was both confusing and oddly comforting. The material was soft and stretchy, and you couldn't wait to see how they'd look once you had a nice tan. You grabbed your towel and sunscreen and headed to the beach with your friends, the excitement building as the waves crashed against the shore.

You found a spot on the beach that was a bit more secluded, with only a few people playing in the sand nearby. You laid out the blanket and plopped down, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. The sounds of laughter and splashing water blended into the background as you closed your eyes and let the ocean breeze caress your body. You felt the sand's gentle abrasion against your skin, and the warmth of the sun's rays seeped into your pores, bringing with them a sense of peace and relaxation. The trunks felt almost alive against your skin, the fabric moving with every shift of your body as you found the perfect lounging position.

As you lay there, something strange began to happen. Your arms felt heavier, and when you flexed, you could feel the muscles in your biceps tightening and swelling. The peaks grew more pronounced with each pulse, the two heads forming the 'guns' that you had always admired on the cover of muscle magazines. Your triceps began to bulge, creating that coveted horseshoe shape. The sensation was odd, but not entirely unpleasant. It was as if the swimwear itself was sculpting your body into something more, something greater.

You felt your chest expanding, the pectoral muscles growing fuller and more defined. The sand beneath your back grew warmer as your back muscles grew. Your lats started to flare out, creating a 'V-taper' that you never knew existed on your body before. Your shoulders rounded out, the deltoids becoming more prominent and powerful. Your traps grew tense, making your neck appear thicker and your shoulders more defined.

As your abs began to tighten and form, you felt a sense of excitement mixed with bewilderment. The waistline of the swim trunks grew taut against your stomach as your abs grew more defined, creating a clear six-pack. You couldn't help but let out a low groan as the muscles in your thighs began to thicken. Your quads grew stronger, and the trunks started to hug your legs tighter, emphasizing the powerful new shape of your legs.

The sensation grew more intense as you felt your cock stirring, hardening beneath the now-tight fabric. It was as if the material was alive, responding to your newfound virility. You looked down, and your eyes widened at the sight of your cock growing longer and thicker, pushing against the constraints of the swim trunks. The head grew plumper and more pronounced, and your cock was now standing tall and proud, demanding attention.

You felt a rush of pleasure as your ass filled out into a perfect bubble butt, the fabric now taut across your cheeks. The onlookers at the beach had no idea of the transformation occurring before their eyes, too caught up in their own vacation bliss to notice the subtle yet significant changes in the person lounging a few feet away.

As your cock continued to swell, the horniness grew to an almost unbearable level. The trunks strained against your body, the fabric now struggling to contain your burgeoning erection. You tried to keep your moans low, but the pleasure was too intense. Your thoughts were consumed by the feeling of your cock thickening and lengthening, reaching sizes you never thought possible. You felt your abs tighten further, your body responding to the new sensations as if it were a natural part of your anatomy.

The beach remained a blur around you, the distant sounds of laughter and waves muffled by the blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes were glued to the sight of your body's metamorphosis, the pressure built, your cock straining against the fabric as your body reached a crescendo of arousal. With a final, powerful thrust, you came, the hot spurts of cum soaking through the material and painting a sticky trail down your thighs.

You bit your lip, trying to keep your grunts of pleasure as quiet as possible. The last thing you needed was a beach full of concerned tourists converging on your little slice of sandy paradise. You had picked a spot that was thankfully somewhat secluded, with just enough of a buffer to ensure your transformation remained private. The few beachgoers nearby were too preoccupied with their own activities to pay attention to the sudden, intense flexing of your muscles and the suspicious bulges that had appeared.

As you felt the final waves of your climax subside, you took a moment to revel in the sensation. Your cock was now a formidable beast, straining against the confines of the swim trunks, which had magically adjusted to fit your new physique like a glove. The cum had soaked through the fabric and was now sticking to your legs and thighs, a testament to the power of the transformation. The trunks are clinging to every inch of your enhanced body, outlining your newfound assets in a way that was both obscene and incredibly tempting.

You cautiously sat up, feeling the weight of your new muscles. Your biceps bulged as you braced yourself against the sand, and your chest felt like it could pop the buttons on a shirt. Your eyes roved over your body, taking in the changes. Your abs rippled with every breath, each muscle defined and taut, leading down to the 'V' that pointed straight to your crotch. The lats on your back had grown so wide that they looked like they could hold wings. Your shoulders looked broader than ever, the deltoids rounded and powerful. Your traps had grown thick, making your neck appear stronger and more defined.

With a deep breath, you pushed yourself to your feet, the cum in your swim trunks sticking to your legs. You waded into the water, the cool waves washing over your body. The swim trunks clung to your skin as if painted on, leaving nothing to the imagination. The tightness around your cock and ass was almost too much to bear, but you managed to keep a straight face as you approached the shallows. The water reached your waist, and you let out a sigh of relief as the fabric loosened slightly. You rinsed off the evidence of your transformation, watching as the cum washed away to be claimed by the sea.

As you emerged from the water, you caught sight of your friends playing beach volleyball a short distance away. Their jaws dropped as they took in the new you. The swim trunks had become a second skin, highlighting every bulging muscle and curve of your now-extraordinary physique. You couldn't help but flex your biceps, the peaks standing tall and proud, water droplets glistening in the sun. The shock on their faces was priceless.

#muscle growth stories #jockification #jock tf #ai generated #male transformation

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cherryblossomcowgirl · 1 month ago

Text

The Night We Met

Inspired by Lord Huron’s “The Night We Met”

WC: 1.2k

TW: Cursing; abandonment; fear of loss; angst

The last few months had been hell. Forgetting Jake Seresin was no easy feat. I need somewhere to think. Somewhere to escape my house, that is now filled with memories of him. I decide to walk to my favorite part of the beach. The dunes are perfect to lay in and look up at the stars. Grabbing my blanket and lantern, I head out the back door of my house.

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

The stars are shining bright. The waves are crashing on the sand. But somehow, all I can think of is Jake. We met 8 months ago. In the span of a few months, he completely changed my life. Now I lay here, 4 months clean of him, wishing our paths had never crossed.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Jake broke down walls that took me years to build in a matter of days. His southern charm and million dollar smile came crashing in, wreaking havoc on my heart. Phoenix told me that he left for a mission 6 weeks ago. I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t be thinking about him. But it is like his ghost is right here beside me. I close my eyes, thinking about the day Jake Seresin came into my life.

When the night was full of terrors

And your eyes were filled with tears

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

FLASHBACK

*My eyes were glassy as I sit there with my feet in the water. The ocean has always been my safe place. I flip to the next chapter of my book as a football hits me in the side. My anger bubbles over, I stand up and hurl the ball back the direction it came from, “Watch out, asshole!” The football thuds into a man’s chest and he grunts, “Damn, you’ve got an arm.” I roll my eyes and turn back to the water. He yells out, “I’m sorry!” Not looking his way I respond, “I’m not!” The man chuckles and goes back to his game. A few chapters later, someone sits beside me. I hear the same southern accent as before, “I really am sorry about before. I’m Jake.” His hand reaches out and I shake it, “I’m Y/n.” He smiles, “Can I get you a drink? My friends and I brought a bunch of beers and seltzers.” “I’m okay but thank you.” “Do you want to play dogfight football with us? You have a pretty good arm on ya.” I sigh, “Honestly Jake, I’ve had a really shit day. I just wanted to come to the beach to read and forget about it. So thank you, but I will pass.” He runs his hand through his hair, “Then how about you let me take you to dinner sometime, as an apology.” “And why would you do that?” “Because somehow the football hit the prettiest girl I have ever laid my eyes on.”*

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

From that day forward, we were inseparable. Jake found any excuse to come by. I had never felt happier. After a couple months of bliss, Jake slowly started to pull away. I wracked my brain, wondering what I could have done to cause it. He stopped showing up without a warning. The goodnight calls turned into goodnight texts.. which then turned into nothing. When he would come around, we’d eat a meal and chat, but then he’d rush out the door. I sat there at my kitchen table, wondering how things changed so quickly.

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

I look up to the stars, sighing, “What am I supposed to do now?” The only answer I get is the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. Tears stream down my cheeks. I had heard things about him, word around here travels fast. But none of that bothered me. It wasn’t what he had shown me.. until he did. I curse myself for falling so quickly. How could I be so foolish? Headlights blind me as I start folding up my blanket. “Y/n?” The southern accent makes my heart jump to my throat. I grab my lantern and start walking, pretending like I didn’t hear. “Y/n! Please stop!” He’s caught up to me now, grabbing my arm, “Please, I need to talk to you.” I whip my head around, “Jake Seresin, I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You haven’t said a word to me for 4 months. 4 months! You told me that you loved me. You told me that you had never met anyone like me before. And then you slowly fade away! With no explanation, might I add. So no, you don’t get to talk to me. I wish I could go back to day and tell myself to walk a little further down the beach.” His eyes water, “You don’t mean that.” I lean in, “With every fiber of my being.” The way he looks at me makes me want to melt. And I hate the fact that I feel that way. How can you be so angry at someone and want them to kiss you at the same time? He closes the space between us, our noses practically touching, “I was scared and I ran. I’ve regretted it every single day, Y/n. I haven’t told a girl I loved her since my high school girlfriend! Then here I am, 1 month in, madly in love with you. Having nightmares that something happens on a mission, then you’re left alone. Dealing with the aftermath. For some reason, I thought leaving before it went any further would save you from that and I am sorry. I am so sorry, Y/n.” Tears threaten to spill over and I turn towards the ocean, wiping them away before turning back to him. “So you left me because you are madly in love me?” He sighs, “I know, it doesn’t make any sense. I tried to stay busy with work, but I can’t focus on anything but you.” I look at my hands, “You are all I can think about.” His green eyes meet mine, shining with hope, “Really?” I nod, “Yes, really. That’s why I came here tonight. My own house makes me think of you.” Jake pulls me into his chest and I breathe in the familiar scent. He kisses my head, “Can we start again?” I look up at him, “Deal.” Jake smiles and stretches out his hand, “Hi, I’m Jake.” I giggle and shake it, “Hi, I’m Y/n.” He takes my blanket and spreads it out, “Would you like to look at the stars with me?” “I would love to.” I lay my head on his chest and he plays with my hair, “This is a good night to meet the love of your life.”

#glen powell x reader #jake seresin x you #top gun maverick #hangman fic #hangman x reader #hangman x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #top gun

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3-frogs-in-a-trench-coat · 5 months ago

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Selfshiptober Day 8: swim / terror

Phoenix has a bad dream.

TW: Nightmare, feelings of loneliness and being trapped, low-key depression(?), not being able to see under water, and drowning. (Not literally. Just the feeling of it.)

Divider from @strangergraphics

"Phoenix, what about this one?" Thimble called out.

They were at a beach looking for seashells. The moment a bit extravagant, being how they were only here to gather seashells for a project Phoenix was planning. Or so they thought.... Phoenix couldn't seem to remember anything before this moment. Other than the fact that Aza was at his job as a hand and leg model.

Maybe that's another reason why they and Thimble were here? The couple didn't seem to have much time with just the 2 of them lately...

Phoenix snapped out of their thoughts, and looked towards Thimble. She was holding up a small shell. A bit too small to see from their current distance.

Phoenix stepped out of the shallow water that they were previously wading in, and walked over to the dry sand towards Thimble. Finally seeing the full shape of the shell.

It was in a spiral shape almost like a horn, and was pure white except for a few black specks near the top.

"It's perfect." They grinned at their partner, before gently taking it and placing it into the pocket of their shorts. "thank you" They gave a kiss on the top of Thimble's head as they expressed their appreciation.

If they kept their head there a bit longer though, it would have been pummeled as Thimble turned around and jumped not even a second later, pointing down towards a sand dollar a few steps away.

"What about this?!"

Phoenix turned to look, and gasped as they suddenly had an idea. "Oh! That reminds me."

They walked over to it. The sand dollar white, signifying that it's been dried up for quite a while.

The young bard picked it up, slowly turning it around in their hands as they made their way back to their partner.

Motioning for him to sit down, the couple sat across from each other in the warm sand, as Phoenix reached over so that they held the sand dollar between them.

"This is something I learned a long time ago as a kid. See, you have to get a sand dollar like this, and-" with a sudden 'SNAP!' the sand dollar was broken in half. Almost a perfect straight break right down the middle.

"-Once you break it like this, you'll have two pieces." They continued, "And sometimes, you can find something special inside. Here, give me your hands."

Thimble hesitated for a second. Making sure to soak in what Phoenix told them, before doing as it was told. Both hands cupped towards its partner.

Phoenix looked at Thimble with another grin, and slowly began to tilt the 2 halves towards their partner's hands. The opened ends suddenly dumping out broken bits of shell and something a bit different.

"What are those?" Thimble asked, looking at the spiky looking bits in their hands.

Phoenix picked one up, gently holding it between 2 fingers.

"I recently read somewhere that these are the teeth of a sand dollar. But when I was younger, I was told they're doves because they kind of look like birds sometimes." They blushed lightly, a bit embarrassed by the thought.

"I was told that keeping them could give you peace, but for some reason I always thought they'd bring me luck, because I felt lucky whenever I found some . I-" They paused for a minute, looking away from Thimble as they cupped a fist to their mouth. Seeming a bit embarrassed as they chose how to say their next words.

"I thought.... I thought that maybe if we could find some of those "doves" in that sand dollar, that maybe you could keep some, and I could give some to Aza later. So you could both think of me when you see them and remember how lucky you make me feel. I-"

They were caught off guard by a sudden cold feeling on their body. Looking down, Phoenix realized that their whole bottom half was.... Wet?

"W-What's this?" Their words seeming to come out with a struggle, their confusion making it hard to think of the right words to say.

Suddenly another cold feeling. This time leaving their top half except for their head, soaking wet. The faint scent of salt water overcoming their senses.

They looked up, and gasped. Thimble was gone. Nothing showing that he was there, except for the bits of the sand dollar sitting where they had previously sat.

Once more a cold feeling hit them, the bard blinking hard as their vision suddenly became a blur.

Their breath escaping them, they looked around. Nothing but water could be seen. A few fish darting around.

Phoenix mumbled in shock and confusion, trying to gasp in a breath, only to choke as water poured within their mouth. A few air bubbles escaping them.

They looked down. Nothing but darkness below them. Phoenix tried to swim away from it, up towards the top where the air and safety was, but the darkness seemed to creep closer. As if it had a mind of its own. They tried to swim faster, but that only made the darkness creep up to them even faster.

This all happened within a few seconds, (Though if you were to ask Phoenix, they'd tell you it was much longer.), before the darkness completely swallowed them.

Phoenix blinked rapidly. Were they.... Awake?

They tried to look around, but there was nothing but darkness.

Where were they? Where was Thimble? Where was the beach? How did they get here?

Dozens of questions danced within their mind. More would have surely came, if it wasn't for Phoenix having had suddenly realized that they were holding their breath.

They took a big gasp, choking a bit as they expected more water to come in, only to find that they could breathe perfectly fine.

Which.... Shouldn't be possible, should it? They could swear they were still under water... The feeling of them floating and their legs and arms moving in the way ones arms and legs usually would when you're trying to tread water.

This was all too strange. None of it made sense. It scared Phoenix. And soon, that fear brought on new questions.

"Would they ever make it home?" "Would they see their partners again?" "Will they be alone forever?"

The questions kept coming. More more MORE.

Until, finally, they all stopped. Phoenix could no longer think of anything. Nothing, but the feelings that soon overtook them.

Fear, loneliness, sadness, guilt, embarrassment... All that and more, growing until it seemed to consume them.

Phoenix curled up in a tight ball. This was it, wasn't it?

No more Aza. No more Thimble. No more love and happiness. No more cozy nights cuddled beside them under a blanket. No more sharing meals and going on dates. No more.... Anything with them.

There was so much they wanted to do with them. So much more the 3 of them still hadn't experienced together.

Phoenix's eyes began to fill with tears. This wasn't fair. They.... They didn't even get to tell their partners that they loved them one more time...

Phoenix cried.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Phoenix woke up to find themselves at home.

Wait..... At HOME? But the beach. The ocean. The dark water. What WAS all of that?

They could barely make out the silhouette of one of their partners. Whoever it was, they were on the edge of the bed, seemingly holding something cool up to Phoenix's forehead.

But where was the other one? Someone was missing.

Blinking rapidly, Phoenix could finally make out Thimble. Their fear lessening, but not fully.

"It was just another fever dream. You're ok." Thimble reassured them.

Phoenix nodded slightly, their head hitting the pillows behind them as they laid their head back down. A small tear, barely noticeable, running down their cheek in relief as they continued to come to terms with reality.

They were sure they'll tell their partners about this dream later today. But for now, they wanted to surround themself with the comfort and love their partners would end up giving them.

(NOTE #1: This is about the dream that was briefly mentioned in the last story. If you haven't read it yet and want to know what happens to Phoenix, I highly suggest you read my Day 7 selfshiptober fic. BUT you won't miss anything if you don't read it. I tried to write both stories in a way where you could choose to read only 1, or both of them, without missing out on any important character info/any other important details.)

(NOTE #2: Phoenix mentioned "doves" earlier in the story. If you're wondering what they were talking about, please feel free to check out this link for more info: http://www.seasideaquarium.com/sandDollars_page2.php#:~:text=Each%20tooth%20closely%20resembles%20the%20shape%20of,found%20worldwide%20and%20there%20are%20many%20different

Taglist:

@faerie-circle-ships

@sennamybeloved

(Feel free to message me or comment on here if you want to be added to my tag list! ☺️)

#f/o #thimble #phoenix #s/i #self ship #selfshiptober 2024

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charlenasaxen · 2 years ago

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Favorite Quotes - The Final Gambit pt. 1

Grayson hadn’t called once since he’d left for Harvard. Xander, my self-appointed BHFF—Best Hawthorne Friend Forever

how much do you need a distraction right now, and how attached are you to your eyebrows?”

“One,” I answered. “And ten.”

Xander gave a little bow. “Then I bid you adieu.” In a flash, he was gone.

Alisa began, and I tuned out.

“I’ve seen better.”

“Jameson!”

I found Jameson at the edge of the Black Wood. He was wearing a white tuxedo that fit his body far too well

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. I ran like the ball gown wasn’t weighing me down, like I didn’t have a knife strapped to my thigh.

Jameson caught me, our bodies colliding. “Happy birthday, Heiress.”

In a million years, the life Tobias Hawthorne had left me would still take my breath away.

Slow dancing, barefoot, on the beach.

The ocean. A cliff. A wager. A race. A dare.

Years from now, I’d still be able to feel it. The weight of the ball gown, the wind in my face. Sun-warmed sand on my skin and chocolate-covered strawberries melting on my tongue.

By sundown, we were almost home. It had been the perfect day.

“Fortunately, Heiress, Hawthorne men have nine lives.”

“Ferris Wheel Leapfrog Death Match?” I repeated. That had Xander written all over it

or maybe I sensed it. Sensed him. Clad entirely in black, wearing a ten-thousand-dollar tuxedo

Grayson Hawthorne stepped onto the dance floor.

He came home.

Grayson Hawthorne let his eyes linger on mine for just a moment

“You aren’t on your own.” Grayson let his eyes linger on mine

a single person—who knew him even a tenth as well as his brothers and I did

“Don’t,” Grayson ordered roughly, “look at me like I’m broken.”

Hawthornes aren’t supposed to break, his voice whispered in my memory. Especially me.

“Emily?” Grayson Hawthorne was staring at a ghost.

he thought he was hallucinating. Again. Breaking down. Again.

Tell me again that I’m not broken.

“Hey. Look at me, Gray.”

Those light eyes opened.

because he thought I considered him weak

that Jameson was still in my bed. Eve didn’t seem to notice him on her way to my en suite, but Grayson did

but Grayson had loved her to the end.

“All those times playing Cookie Golf together, and you didn’t think this was worth mentioning?”

“In retrospect, good on you for not telling me. Excellent call, shows solid judgment.”

Xander made a face. “Note to self: Cancel the welcome festivities.”

I found Grayson standing statue-still outside the wing, dressed in a silver three-piece suit, his blond hair wet from the pool.

In one liquid motion, he dives into the pool, fully clothed.

“Where’s Jameson?” Grayson’s question drew me back

The list of complicated things that Xander Hawthorne considered to be “fairly simple” was lengthy.

picturing Hawthorne brothers swinging pillows at one another. Possibly shirtless.

“The old man didn’t make mistakes,” Grayson said in one of those tones that dared you to argue—and strongly advised against it.

and by the sacred rules of Chutes and Ladders

Technically, the Hawthorne brothers were half-siblings. Technically, Libby and I were.

“On a scale from boring to brooding,” Jameson quipped, “how’s he holding up?”

Heaven forbid Jameson Hawthorne get caught openly caring about his brother.

“I’m worried. Grayson isn’t okay, Jameson. I don’t think your brother has been okay for a very long time.”

What the hell? I looked up. “Jameson!” He was already on his way to me.

my eyes went to Grayson’s. “Three families.”

“One yours,” Grayson replied. “And one mine.”

“One of those pretty little Hawthorne grandsons?”

Xander raised his right hand. “I have a question about faces and dogs.”

“You’re not the boss of me? It’s something like that. No, wait, I remember! It’s You’re not the boss of me, wanker.”

“Excellent use of British slang,” Xander commented.

Jameson shrugged. “I’m a man of the world now.”

“Jamie’s right.” Grayson managed to say that without grimacing.

which left me in the middle row with Jameson on one side and Grayson on the other.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a flight back to Harvard right about now?”

“Someone moved against our family. Of course I’m staying.”

Jameson reached around me to grab Grayson by his suit.

“Gray.” Grayson’s words came out louder, more desperate.

Jameson let go of him.

“I’ll be happy to discuss all of your personal shortcomings,” Jameson told Grayson. “Alphabetically and in great detail

The muscles in Grayson’s jaw tensed. “We’re not here to forgive you.”

“Always so serious,” she murmured, reaching out to touch his cheek. “And the shadows in those eyes…”

“Say that again,” Jameson encouraged, “but try to sound even more like an automaton this time.”

“I’m being horribly unfair to automatons.”

All she did was stare at him, softly crooning. Baby Gray was a real quiet little guy, solemn.

She was alive. She was a good daughter. But her mother could still look right at her and sobbingly say that all her babies died.

“That’s okay,” Xander responded cheerfully. “I have two feet!”

the message flashed across the scoring screen overhead. I ALWAYS WIN IN THE END

he took one look at the words on the screen and set them down. “A bold choice of name,” he said. He gave me a hopeful look. “Yours?”

the boys were still together, and things were getting ugly. Hawthorne ugly,” he clarified. “No external threats.”

Hawthorne ugly was probably the best we could hope for.

“in my defense, I didn’t expect the zoo to send an actual tiger.

taking a dark chocolate banana to the chest

letting me see every line of the muscles underneath.

Jameson did not elaborate on the mud, the blood, or what exactly he and Grayson had gotten up to

“that you can’t wash all this mud off before I…”

“Before you what?” I murmured.

Jameson Winchester Hawthorne smiled. “Guess.”

the pool lit just enough that I could make out his form

“How long would you have stood here, watching them, if I hadn’t come?” Jameson asked, an odd tone in his voice

I pictured Grayson on his knees in front of me. “What is it you think you know?”

“Gray has always been so perfect,” Jameson said. “It’s inhuman how good he was at just about everything.

“You have to be.” There was an urgency to Jameson’s words, a need. “Because I’m terrible at hurting, Heiress.

The old man knew about Eve. That revelation hit me like splinters

which probably costs ten thousand dollars and undoubtedly should not be steamed?”

“Chess,” I repeated. “The move—it’s called the Queen’s Gambit

saw Grayson in the doorway, backlit

walked past Grayson. “Watch where you’re aiming those cheekbones, buddy.”

“Everything hurts.” Only Grayson Hawthorne could say that and still sound utterly bulletproof. “It hurts all the time, Avery, but I know the man I was raised to be.”

The metalwork was impossibly intricate. The effect was delicate, but dangerous. Beauty and power.

Then I did the same thing with the black pieces, glittering with black diamonds.

Hell, Gray even let loose sometimes because the games didn’t reward perfection. He and I used to team up

But Saturday mornings, those games—they were about showing us that we already were.”

Extraordinary

I turned my attention back to the boys. “You’re Hawthornes. Who knows how to crack a combination lock?”

The answer was all of them.

Jameson looked to Grayson.

Grayson’s face was like stone.

“And in keeping with my general superiority in our sibling relationship I am better than fine.”

Grayson’s expression hardened. “And runs down the clock while you clean it up.”

“There’s still glitter in Grayson’s bathroom,” Xander finished. I got the feeling that wasn’t a metaphor.

“I’m sorry,” I told Max.

“I know,” my best friend replied. “But don’t worry. I’ll choose a theme song for him.”

“The Bible,” I repeated, and suddenly, it clicked. “Luke.”

“My second-favorite Gospel,” Max noted. “I’ll always be a John girl at heart.”

“I will talk only to the heiress. The one Tobias Hawthorne chose.”

Jameson reached for the chess pieces, but Xander smacked his hand away

“is a bit like a game of Where’s Waldo, except Waldo likes to jab people with her cane.”

The stone arches, hand-carved pews, and elaborate stained-glass windows

“As opposed to what, girl? Springing forth fully formed from the head of Zeus?”

"not to Alice or their children or you boys.”

Grayson took to the pool, pushing himself past the point of human endurance again and again

“Can it be about off-label uses for medieval weaponry?” Xander requested. “Because I have some ideas.”

as if coming to a very serious decision, he lifted his hand and pressed one finger to the end of my nose. “Boop.”

“Triple boo—” Xander started to say, but I ducked

“Avery, people have hated me my whole life.”

“Not anyone who knows you,” I said fiercely.

Xander smiled, and something about it made me want to cry

“You didn’t love the great and terrible Tobias Hawthorne. You loved the old man.”

Grayson and his oughts and shoulds. Hawthornes aren’t supposed to break. His voice spoke deep in my memory. Especially me.

Grayson pushed off the wall, treading water as he measured his response. “Jamie doesn’t tell me everything.”

the muscles in his back so tense that it looked like his shoulder blades might split the skin

when my hand reached for the edge, another hand grabbed mine.

Jameson pulled me out of the water. “Don’t breathe,” he murmured.

“He knows better. That is a Hawthorne dog.”

we were in the Hawthorne theater. Not to be confused with the Hawthorne movie theater

“Gray has a voice so deep and smooth that you will shed literal tears...you will come to believe he spent the 1950s wearing the most dapper of suits

“My duet will have to wait!”

“Who were you going to duet with?” Libby asked.

“Myself!”

he seemed so sure that Jameson and I were the ones Grayson needed

the sound of achingly beautiful violin music began drifting into the hall

Grayson poised in front of open bay windows, wearing a suit without the jacket, his shirt unbuttoned, a violin pressed to his chin.

so high and sweet it was almost unbearable.

Jameson caught his brother’s forearm. “Don’t. Gray. You’re not hurting anyone but yourself.”

“You play beautifully,” I told Grayson, pushing back the urge to cry

The Hawthorne grandsons were also damn near lethal

we both know that you haven’t let yourself want anything in a very long time.”

Grayson’s head turned toward mine, the light reflecting off his blond hair in a near-halo. “For you, Avery.”

He reached a hand down to Jameson and pulled him to his feet, leaving the two of them standing just inches apart

Grayson’s fingers brushed mine as he took it

His gaze found its way slowly and inexorably to mine. “We need to go down to the wine cellar.”

#the final gambit #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #xander hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery grambs

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yiddenheroes · 3 months ago

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SAND DOLLAR MILLIONAIRE

The water has no right being that pretty.

This wasn’t the first time the thought ran through Hodaya’s head, and it most probably would not be the last. The clear green-blue ocean was mesmerizing, and her gaze kept straying back to it. The waves were rougher here than they had been in the area where she had started her walk, but that didn’t diminish the alluring sparkle of sunlight in the water.

The night before, Safta had asked if she was okay with going to the beach the next day, and no sooner was the question out of her mouth that Hodaya said yes. Although she had had a rocky relationship with the beach - or, rather, all of the exposed skin and how people would perceive her - it was still one of her favorite places, and she wanted to get in as much time there before having to return to New York.

As she walked, the white sand hot but not quite burning under her feet, her eye caught on a small scallop shell half-buried in the sand. Scooping it up before a wave could sweep it away, she brushed off the sand and looked it over. The shell was practically complete, with no holes or cracks, with orange-and-red coloring reminiscent of early sunset. Pleased, she placed it in the pocket of her hoodie vest, and decided that this was as good a time as ever to turn around and start walking back.

She passed a few other beachgoers also on walks, couples and friends and lone walkers like her, and also found a few more shells. One in particular, the long spiral kind that she didn’t know the name of, lay excruciatingly close to an oncoming wave, with no sand holding it down to keep it in place. Hodaya darted forward, hoping to snatch it up before the wave got there.

A heavy weight slammed into her, knocking her into the wave, which swept the spiral shell away, and down to the hard sand beneath. “

I’m so sorry,” blubbered the guy who had run into her. “Are you okay?”

“I’m…fine,” Hodaya said, though she wobbled a little while standing up, and both of her sides were aching - one from the impact, and one from smacking into the wave and then hard sand. What was the guy even doing, going that fast?

“My little brother and I were racing to the water,” the guy explained, as if he had read the question from her mind, and gestured to what was essentially a younger version of himself - both of them had dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and tanned skin - standing a few feet away in the water watching them.

“I didn’t see you. I’m really really sorry.” His face was so rife with guilt it seemed more appropriate to believe he had just accidentally run over an animal or something.

Hodaya rubbed her side and shook her head. “It’s fine. I was looking down at this shell, I didn’t see you either.”

She saw his eyes zero in on where her hands were rubbing, and dropped them. “I’m fine. I just hit the sand a little hard.” She waved her hands in an exaggerated ‘no problem’ gesture, but he still looked upset.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine. I’m okay. Go back to your brother.”

Right on cue, the guy’s brother seemed to have finally had enough.

“Jacob!” He shouted. “Come on!”

“Yeah, one minute!” The guy - presumably named Jacob, which was a much nicer name than ‘the guy’ - called back. He turned back to her.

“Wait, you were collecting shells?” His face got excited. “Wait here!”

He scrambled back up the sand to a collection of brightly colored blankets and beach chairs, where an older man and woman sat chatting. They looked up and smiled at him, and he said something and knelt down by a striped beach bag, rummaging around before his hand emerged with something. He jogged back over to her and, with a small smile, handed her a whole, perfect sand dollar.

“I know it’s not the same, but here.”

Hodaya took it. It really was perfect, unmarred and circular.

“Where did you find this one?” She looked up, but he had already run into the water. “Or, not.”

She watched Jacob catch up to his brother, who splashed water at him. Jacob just laughed and splashed him back, and soon they were swimming farther out into the green-blue waters.

She took another look at the sand dollar - seriously, where had he found it, when she had only been able to find bits and pieces? She placed the sand dollar in her pocket, next to the other shells. Unwittingly, a smile tugged at the edges of her mouth, though it turned into a wince when she took a step. She had hit the ground kind of hard.

Hodaya and her grandmother spent most of the drive home from Delray Beach figuring out what they would do for Saturday lunch. The week before, her grandmother had knocked on her door and informed her that one of her mahjong buddies had invited them over for Shabbat dinner the next week.

“It will be you and me, Judy and her husband and their two grandsons. I want you to know that you are under no obligation to say yes,” Safta had said firmly.

She was always trying to take her granddaughter’s feelings into consideration for things, and was one of Hodaya’s main pillars of support in life. It was one of the reasons that coming out to her had been simultaneously so sure yet terrifying. When Hodaya had told her, heart beating so fast she was sure it was going to burst and breath lodged in her throat, Safta had softly cupped her face and looked in her in the eyes, and determinedly told her that she loved her very much, and would help in any way she could to make sure that Hodaya felt safe and comfortable, not just as a girl but in every part of life.

“Judy’s the new one, who all of your friends dread because she keeps winning?”

Safta huffed. “I’ll have you know I beat her on Tuesday. Won myself five dollars off of that game. But yes, that’s her. You can think about it, if you want. It’s no hurry.”

Hodaya hesitated. A few years ago, she wouldn’t have said yes. She hadn’t been comfortable in her body - high school insecurities teaming up with dysphoria to turn her into a socially anxious mess - and there were times that she still wasn’t, but she was at a place now that she felt much more comfortable in her own skin. And from what Safta had told her, this Judy was quite the character.

“We should go,” she said confidently. “I want to meet the woman who robbed my grandmother of so many winnings.”

“Yeah, yeah,” her grandmother had grumbled. “I’ll go let her know.”

Shopping was much easier with only lunch to think about, and in the end, they decided on chicken for Saturday. The rest of the day had passed by in a whir of showers and shopping and cooking, and the night and following day just as quickly, until it was nearly time to light.

Hodaya was in the guest bathroom of her grandmother’s apartment - a second-floor, two bedroom place in one of Boca Raton’s many gated communities - finishing applying a light layer of eye makeup. The temperature outside had permitted her to wear one of her favorite dresses - light pink fabric with a flared bottom and a tie around the neck. It lay on her body just right, in a way that made everything proportional and perfect, and made her feel like a boss princess whenever she wore it. Her hair was still a little damp from the shower when she brushed it out after finishing up her eyes, but it still had a few minutes to finish drying.

Safta popped her head in the doorway, fixing in the backing of an earring.

“Did you want to borrow any jewelry?” She asked.

Hodaya looked at herself in the mirror and smiled.

“I’m good.”

“You look beautiful. You know, I used to have a dress in that color. I actually wore it on one of my first dates with your Saba.” Safta said.

“The time when he took you out to that fancy restaurant in the city and spilled wine all over you and the tablecloth?”

Safta laughed. “You remember all of my stories. The dress was ruined, but he was so sweet and apologetic it didn’t really matter.”

Her gaze drifted off the way it did whenever she thought about her husband. Even after over fifty years of marriage and despite spending a lot of time apart - Hodaya’s grandfather staying in New York for work - they were still as sweet on each other as the day they first fell in love.

They were probably also part of why Hodaya set the bar so high for relationships, but that was a thought for another time.

“Are you all ready to light?” Hodaya asked.

“Yes, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

Because they would be leaving for Judy’s apartment soon after, the two welcomed Shabbat with tea lights set in a pan instead of the bigger candles at the window, murmuring the prayer quietly and covering their eyes. After a few silent moments, her grandmother went to retrieve the small cake that she had gotten for dessert (“You always bring something when you go to someone’s house, Hodaya”) from the fridge and Hodaya went to grab her small handbag from her room. Before she left, her eye caught on the sand dollar, laid out on the night table, and the corners of her lips quirked up. What a weird encounter.

The walk to Judy’s wasn’t that long, and soon enough they were standing in front of a first-floor apartment with candles in the window and a beautifully decorated mezuzah on the door frame. The woman who opened the door had silver hair pulled back into a bun and a twinkle in her eye that made Hodaya like her immediately. Her face was also slightly familiar, though Hodaya couldn’t place where from. Maybe she had seen her walking around the area.

“Good Shabbos!” She welcomed, pulling Safta in for a quick hug. She turned to Hodaya.

“Do you hug, dear? I always try to ask first.”

“Oh,” Hodaya said, a little caught off guard. “Yeah.” But Judy’s embrace was warm and firm, and she was happy that she had said yes.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Oh, did you bring something? I told you you didn’t have to. Please, please, come in. Oh, this is my husband, Cecil -” the man in question waved at them from the kitchen. “-and Jacob and Elijah are just finishing getting ready. Please, sit down, make yourselves comfortable.”

Judy directed the both of them to a blue couch that was as comfortable as it looked, with white pillows printed with different birds as an extra comfort. Hodaya wanted to lean back into the cushions, but figured that it would be more polite to sit up straight.

“The food is just about heated up,” Judy continued in a nonstop stream. “And look! Here are the boys!”

She turned toward the small hallway, where two boys, nearly identical except for height and that one of them was wearing glasses, emerged.

Oh.

That’s why Judy was so familiar.

The taller boy stood in a light blue button down shirt, slacks, and a dark blue kippah, brown eyes wide behind glasses that he hadn’t been wearing the day before at the beach.

“This is Jacob, the oldest,” Judy said, not noticing their shock. “And this is Elijah. Boys, this is Rachel and her granddaughter Hodaya.”

“We’ve actually met,” Jacob said.

“Oh!” Judy exclaimed. “What?”

“We ran into each other at the beach yesterday,” Hodaya said, trying to hide the amusement from her voice.

“Literally,” Elijah added. “Jacob, like, slammed into her.”

“Jacob!” His grandmother admonished.

“It’s fine,” Hodaya said. “He already paid me back. Where did you find a whole sand dollar like that? I’ve only found bits and pieces, but barely even that.”

“That’s something we still want to know too,” Cecil said, coming in from the kitchen. “He just finds them all over the place. If you could use them as money, he’d be a sand dollar millionaire.” He kissed his wife’s cheek. “Food’s ready.”

Soon enough they were into the meal, which was a wide selection of meat, soup, vegetables, and homemade challah, which Hodaya especially loved. When she told Judy as much, the woman smiled and thanked her, and said that she would be happy to share the recipe.

“What are you doing now?” Cecil asked Hodaya after a few minutes of chatter. “Are you a student?”

“Yeah. I’m actually at Barnard.”

“Oh! What are you studying?” Judy asked.

“Environmental science,” Hodaya explained.

She then paused. She always felt awkward explaining her school career. She loved what she was studying - though some of the classes took much more effort to get through than others - but putting it into words was always hard.

Thankfully, Jacob swooped in.

“That’s so cool. I could never really do science stuff. Just doesn’t click in my brain.”

Hodaya internally sighed in relief. “Where are you studying?”

“I’m at Hunter College. I’m majoring in psych, and minoring in history. I actually prefer my history classes more, but I think that’s just because of the professors.”

Elijah leaned forward.

“Do you spend all of your time talking about climate change?” He abruptly asked Hodaya.

“Please no talk of climate change, it scares your grandfather,” Judy said.

“It should scare him,” Elijah muttered. “May I be excused, then?”

“Just come back for dessert,” Judy said. “He’s not good with strangers,” she told them after Elijah had disappeared into the other room.

Hodaya completely understood, and almost wished she herself could disappear back into her guest room to read or finish a puzzle. Unlike her grandmother, who was one of the most sociable people she knew, Hodaya’s social battery ran out relatively quickly, especially around people that she didn’t know. But the atmosphere at the table was comfortable, and although she would definitely need some time alone when they got back, she would be fine for the rest of the night.

Dessert was the chocolate cake that Safta had brought over and a homemade fruit salad.

“Your grandmother told me you’re allergic to strawberries,” Judy informed Hodaya. “So I put them in a separate bowl from the fruit salad.”

“Oh, thank you so much.”

Elijah emerged for a slice of the cake and to help cleanup, but after everything was finished, he muttered a quick “nice to meet you” to Hodaya and her grandmother and disappeared again. By the time Hodaya and her grandmother were ready to leave, Hodaya’s stomach was full but her battery empty, but she felt the kind of pleasantness one could only find after time spent in good company.

After lunch the next day, Judy stopped by to walk with her grandmother to the pool, where residents would gather every Saturday to chat. Elijah surprisingly hung a few feet behind, with half of his face covered by a large pair of sunglasses and a book in hand.

“Where’s Jacob?” Hodaya found herself asking.

“He’s sleeping right now. But I can let him know if you want to hang out.”

Hodaya felt her face heat up.

“I wouldn’t want to bother him. I was just…wondering.” Not to mention, a nap sounded pretty good herself.

But after a half an hour passed and she wasn’t able to fall asleep, Hodaya pulled herself up and decided to take advantage of the warmer Florida weather and go for a walk. She stopped by the pool area to let her grandmother know, avoiding the eyes of all of the other residents who she could tell were looking at her - some of whom she had known, and who had known her, since she had been little, and who always acted differently around her once she started growing her hair out and going by a different name, and whose smiles were just a little too plastic and tight around the edges - and hurried back out to begin her walk.

Closing the gate behind her, she stepped out into the parking lot - and bumped into something very tall and solid feeling.

She looked up. “This is a little ridiculous, I have to say.”

Jacob’s cheeks were red, but he was smiling when he shrugged.

“Maybe it’s fate. I don’t have another sand dollar on me, though.” His hair was slightly rumpled, like he hadn’t managed it after waking up, and his shirt had shorter sleeves, which allowed him to show off his arms…

“Right…” She blew out a breath. “Are you here for the pool group?”

Jacob shook his head. “As much gossip as they could probably give me, I’m just letting my safta know I’m going on a walk. Did you get your fill of time with them?”

She smiled. “I was actually doing the same thing as you.”

“Huh.” Jacob bit his lip. It was a very nice lip.

Shut up, mind, Hodaya hissed to her mind.

But he’s cute, her mind simpered back.

“I know we just met - I mean, met again, but basically officially met - last night…do you want to walk together?” Jacob asked her.

The morning had been quiet, and she and Safta didn’t have any big plans for later…so why not?

“Yeah, sure. I’d love to.”

“Great, just let me let my safta know.”

Over the course of the next half hour, Hodaya learned several things about Jacob, including that he loved Star Trek but was afraid of space, that he had tried going vegetarian several times but failed (“It’s my safta’s chicken,” he explained. “That’s how they get you.”), that he talked a lot, and that he had grown up in the same town as her, only a few blocks away.

“Wait, that’s crazy. We totally could have crossed paths before,” Jacob said. “What school did you go to?”

“I, ah, switched into public school after sixth grade.”

“I get that. Switching, I mean. I used to go to this place in Brooklyn - I had to get up at like five in the morning every day - but I switched out in the middle of high school.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It…wasn’t pretty.”

“I’m sorry.” Hodaya felt awkward. Was this one of the times that you expressed sympathy and then moved on? Or was she supposed to ask what had happened?

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked tentatively.

“They…weren’t exactly accepting of certain things,” Jacob said. He suddenly seemed like he wasn’t sure what to say next. “Not that the people at my new school were super great, but it was better, and I found some good friends, you know?”

“That’s good,” Hodaya said, but her mind was racing. He couldn’t possibly be talking about what she thought he was talking about.

“Why did you switch? If you don’t mind me asking.”

The question drew her out of her thoughts.

“The same thing,” Hodaya said. “I think.”

She thought that he would push, and wondered what she would tell him (she didn’t care how he felt about her, even if he was funny and cute, but there was always the forefront thought of if it would be safe, even if he wasn’t likely to do anything and there was a chance that he was in a similar boat to her), but he didn’t. Instead, he changed the subject, and the moment passed.

“How are your sides feeling, by the way?”

“What?” She didn’t understand for a moment, but then it clicked. “They’re fine. I don’t even feel it anymore. To be honest, I’m more interested in how you keep finding so many sand dollars, Mr. Sand Dollar Millionaire.”

Jacob grinned.

“A sand dollar finder never reveals his secrets. But,” he leaned in conspiratorially. “I’ll make a special case this time.”

“Is that so?” Hodaya asked, half amused and half genuinely curious.

“The secret is… I really don’t know.”

“Oh.” Well, that was kind of a letdown. “Come on. If you find as many as I’ve heard you do, you must have some way to look for them.”

Jacob shrugged.

“I genuinely don’t know. And I don’t actually have that many. The tales of my adventures have been greatly exaggerated. Plus, if I did have that many, they wouldn’t actually mean a lot. Like if you print too many dollars.” He cleared his throat. “But, I wouldn’t mind looking for some of them together, if you’re interested.”

“What?” She asked.

“Not, as like, a date,” he said, holding his hands up. “That came out sounding like me asking for a date, didn’t it?”

“Not at all.” It totally had though. She smiled. “I would love to look for them with you.”

“At some hypothetical time after Shabbat,” he added jokingly. Hodaya laughed. One wasn’t supposed to plan for events after Shabbat on Shabbat, but it was a cute little workaround.

“Hypothetically,” she responded.

And when they both went back to their respective apartments, she laid down on the bed in the guest room. The first shades of sunset were showing in the sky - her grandmother would probably be back soon.

What had she been thinking, agreeing to meet with this guy she barely knew? To find sand dollars? It didn’t feel real.

But it was, and as she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts took over. He was cute - a little talkative, but cute. And he was funny. A nice Jewish boy who lived close to her that she could hang out with and maybe pursue a relationship with, in this fantasy future.

But he also had the potential to be on the spectrum of awful, from visible uncomfort or staring to harsh words and jeers when he found out she was trans. Because she wasn’t going to hide that part of herself from him, if they were going to be friends. And if he didn’t like it, that was his problem.

But it was also an issue of if she would be safe.

She heard the front door open, and Safta calling out to her. She sat up, giving herself a moment so that she wouldn’t feel dizzy when she stood up. Like the night before, her eye caught on the sand dollar, flat and pretty against the dark wood of the night table. She imagined a beach full of sand dollars, and thought that maybe Jacob had been wrong - you couldn’t have too many.

Hodaya smiled to herself in the darkening room, and then got up to join her grandmother.

#JEWISH #jewish stories #jewish short stories #jumblr #short story

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horseshoegirl · 2 years ago

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Damn Those Dog Tags - Part 2:

Hello, I Love You

AN: FYI... I cried at the likes, reblogs, and comments you all left. I didn't expect that at all! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

A lot more of Sadie came out in this one than I expected.

______________________________________________________________

❗️18+, strong language, sexual themes, Jake being Jake, godmother reader/original female character, Original child character.

#3K Words

Part 1 | Masterlist | Part 3

Finding sunlight never seemed to be an issue in California.

Penny asked if you could open the bar on your day off while she ran a few errands with Amelia. After dropping Sadie off at her tutoring lesson, you had time to spare, and the beach was the perfect place to read until your shift started.

Penny had set up a pair of Adirondack chairs under an umbrella just off the back deck of the Hard Deck. It was your favourite place to go on breaks or when you arrived early, such as today. Rummaging in your bag, you pulled out your book, eyes fixated on the cover.

Pride and Prejudice was the go-to for Ridley and you. Whenever one of you had a bad day or couldn’t sleep, you’d huddle together on the couch and put it on the TV. You attempted to show it to Sadie last year. While she was too young to appreciate it then, she loved that all the best camera angles seemed to focus on Elizabeth Bennet, especially when she stood on that cliffside.

It had been a promise between sisters you’d read the book together, having purchased your copy the week before her death. While you couldn’t bring yourself to watch the movie again just yet, you felt you owed it to her to read the book.

The world belonging to Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet was far more intriguing than your own. It wasn’t till you came to a part of the book that lulled, did you looked up to see an infamous game of Dogfight Football taking place on the shore. You spied a few of the Daggers mixed in with the newer Top Gun pilots. Rooster wouldn’t be there. He was running a few errands for you before picking up Sadie.

You smiled wholeheartedly, seeing Bob lose it over at what you supposed was a touchdown. Mav attempted to explain the game to you once upon a time, something about running offence and defence simultaneously. Any explanation left you even more confused than you were before.

Phoenix started the game again, shouting at Coyote to be open for her incoming throw. Bob lined up in front of a blonde pilot you hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t until Bob shouted at him for faking a throw did you realize you were ogling at the newly returned Dagger your friends warned you about.

For just a moment, you understood why the bartenders before you gave in. Hangman was every girl’s hot dream come to life. The million-dollar smile. Muscles for days. A face you were sure would be perfectly symmetrical if you took a ruler to it.

Yet, you could only focus on those damn dog tags swaying in space above his sternum—that little divet, which led down between his perfectly sculpted abs. The part of your brain with no impulse control picturing everything you could do to that divet.

The other part reeled you in, shouting ‘in your dreams’ and ‘he’d leave you out to dry too.’

Startled by the alarm on your phone, you forced yourself to peel your eyes away, close your book and make your way up the back steps to open the bar.

Ridley’s jean jacket protected you from a strong gust of wind blowing up sand as you unlocked the door. You remembered when she found it in that thrift store, losing it over the David Bowie-inspired patch on the back. It was one of the many belongings you brought from her townhouse, the rest tucked away in storage to be dealt with another day. You always made sure the first song playing on the Jukebox when you opened was something by Bowie.

A few people trickled in from the beach once they realized the bar was open, and you did your best to handle the intake until Jimmy could relieve you of the pressure.

A keg was giving you issues, your back facing the busier part of the bar as you crouched down to adjust a loose nozzle.

“What’s it like being the most beautiful girl in this bar?”

Yes, Hangman was perfect on the eyes. Then he had to ruin it by opening his mouth.

You stood up, keeping your back turned, “What’s it like being the biggest liar in the world?”

“Not a liar if it's true.”

You turned to face him, a hand on your hip. “Does that work on all the unfortunate girls who stumble into your path, Hangman?”

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

A man with charm was a dangerous thing. And Hangman was indeed that man. Sitting at your bar, arms perched, the most Mona Lisa smile you’ve ever seen gracing his face.

“Nobody,” you said, “could be so forward and expect to get away with it.”

“What do you say about tonight? Your place or mine?” That cocky smirk was begging to be wiped off his face.

You kept yourself busy, trying to avoid looking at his eyes as much as possible. You weren’t expecting them to be so green.

“I have a date with a bug and some friends.” The urge to clean something with the rag on your shoulder was getting harder to ignore. You needed to do something with your hands.

“Ditch them.”

That made you look up, staring blankly at him, “Your friends must call you an asshole if that’s how you’d treat them.”

A toothpick had somehow now made its way between his teeth. You weren't sure whether you wanted to pull it out of his mouth or stare at what he was doing with it. You made a note to hide the small canister under the bar the next time he showed up.

“One of the nicest assholes you could ever hope to meet.”

You rolled your eyes. “I have a list with your name in the girl's bathroom that says otherwise.”

“For a good time, call Hangman?” This guy didn’t know when to quit.

You snorted, “Hardly.”

“Come on, do you think that poorly of me? Let Hangman show you a good time.”

It was your turn to smirk. You leaned against the bar, resting your elbows on the space before him, tipping forward just enough to intrude upon his personal space.

“You want to know what I think?” His eyes dropped to your lips.

“I think you’ve mastered the art of your southern Texas charm,” You took the rag from your shoulder and started to wipe at part of the bar between his arms.

“A handsome naval pilot,” keeping your eyes down, you continued, “a few pretty verses with just enough of that southern accent, making even the shyest of women hope to drop their pants for a promise of a good time.”

His voice was low as he spoke, “Here I am. Just say the word.”

You couldn’t believe this guy. Any thought you had entertained of inviting him tonight or in the future vanished. Bradley and Natasha were right. He did flirt with anything within a five-mile radius.

“What else can you offer someone other than the promise of a good time, Hangman?” You pushed yourself away from him, reaching for a misplaced whiskey glass. “After all, why did all of Penny’s previous bartenders quit after being around you?”

You reached for the bottle of sanitizer, spraying your rag. “Do you see women as a means to an end? Wham, Bam, thank you, mam? Or is the thought of forming something deeper with someone just too damn hard?”

His mouth gaped open.

You put your back to him as you finished, “I’m not the type of girl guys like you go to for one-night stands. Considering you won’t tell me your real name and assuming I’d ditch my friends for a guy.”

No matter how you said it, the slight bitterness was there. “Go leave some other girl hanging, Hangman.”

You waited a moment, gathering the courage to turn around to ask if he wanted something from the bar before a voice caught your attention.

“Liz!” Bradley shouted, Sadie trailing on his heels with her backpack dragging behind her.

“Hey, Bradley,” You smiled at him before looking down at Sadie, her eyes downcast and shoulders slumped. Her morning couldn’t have gone any more wrong.

“How was tutoring, Sweetheart?”

“Mr. Turner was mean to me again.” You frowned.

“The numbers don’t make sense. I try to ask questions, but he either makes it more confusing or refuses to answer and tells me to figure it out myself.”

“He doesn’t know how you learn, Bug. You’ll get it.” Rooster attempting to offer encouraging words.

The Math Makes Sense textbooks she brought home were anything but. The pair of you spending nights tearing your hair out at the kitchen table over the most obscure questions. Amelia tried, but she had a preference for English.

“Elizabeth,” Hangman realized, looking slightly shocked. “Penny mentioned you.”

You smiled, mocking his words before, “I see my reputation precedes me.”

He looked down at Sadie, who firmly attached herself to Rooster’s hand, “Then you must be Sadie.”

She narrowed her eyes, “Or Bug, that’s what they call me,” rocking her hand in Bradley’s.

You grimaced as he raised his eyebrow, clearly figuring out Sadie was the Bug and the Daggers, the friends you were referring to.

“Hangman.”

“Rooster.”

“What, they finally kicked you out of Texas?”

“Someone has to be around to save your as.. butt,” his eyes dropped to Sadie with a slight wince.

She rolled her eyes with as much dramatic flare as a ten-year-old could muster.

“I’m ten. I’ve heard worse,” she mumbled before climbing onto one of the bar stools and pulling her homework out of her bag. You couldn’t refute her; the swear jar in your kitchen was evidence enough. Its presence reminding the Daggers a ten-year-old was in their company.

“Nice,” Rooster pointed to Sadie. “I knew you were an idiot, but this just proved it.”

Clearly, Hangman saving his life did nothing to change Rooster's attitude towards this teammate.

You were thankful the sound of glass hitting the floor pulled you away from whatever was happening between the two, a quick ‘I’ll be right back’ to Sadie and a strict glare at Bradley before you walked over to a group of newer Top Gun pilots trying to clean up the mess.

“You think you can handle this guy for a few minutes? I gotta run a few errands,” Rooster jerking his thumb towards Hangman.

Sadie looked him over before sarcastically glaring back at Rooster. “You're joking, right?”

Rooster smiled, roughing up her hair, before turning to leave.

“Bye, Bug.” He shouted over his shoulder.

She didn’t even look up, too focused on the cover of her textbook, when she called out, “Bye, Uncle Roo.”

Sadie took a deep breath before finding the page she had been working on with her tutor in her textbook. The man didn’t know how to explain anything, let alone math. She tried hard to understand what he was saying, but the comments about how he’d expect this from a kid being raised by a single woman were annoying.

She knew you and her mom would want her to bite her tongue. But she'd never own up to it if her foot accidentally strayed too far to hit his shin.

It was a few seconds before she flipped her pencil, harshly erasing the page, before throwing her forehead down onto the bar with a thump in defeat.

With an amused look from the pilot sitting beside her and a slight chuckle at her antics, he asked, “That bad?”

She looked up at him, head resting on crossed arms over her textbook. “My tutor is a total idiot.”

“Oh really?”

“I know I don’t understand this stuff, but I would expect a math tutor would.” She felt hopeless. A few teachers at her new school wanted her to succeed and gave her chances to catch up. But math? Every teacher she ever encountered seemed like they set her up to fail.

He leaned closer to her, staring down at the part of her textbook that wasn’t covered by her arms, “What’s the culprit?”

“Fractions,” she was almost ashamed to admit. “Doing things with them.”

“Could I take a look?”

Sadie raised her head. She had no idea who this guy was. But, if he was offering to help her with her homework, Math no less, he couldn’t be that much of an idiot.

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you a pilot?” doubting he could handle something like this if four other people had already failed.

“The best there is,” he replied casually. “Dagger Squad would be lost without me.”

She looked at him skeptically, contemplating her answer. Finally, she pushed her textbook over to him, “Okay, wow me, ‘Hangman.’”

You occasionally glanced back at Sadie as you cleaned up the broken glass. With Bradley gone, Hangman had moved closer to her, one of her butterfly-themed pencils in his hand as the two passed her notebook back and forth, engaged in a lengthy conversation.

You knew right away what was going on. The git was helping her with her math homework. You didn’t know whether to be pissed off at him, pissed off Rooster left her alone with him, or grateful somebody was willing to explain the damn stuff to her.

“Are you coming tonight?” Sadie asked, punching something into her calculator.

“I’m assuming this is the ‘date’ your Aunt mentioned,” flipping the pencil in his hand.

“Something always happens on a Saturday Night,” she wrote something down. “Whether it's dinner, game night, a movie… Rooster’s karaoke ideas.”

She felt a shiver go through her body at the last one. While she loved her Uncle, Great Balls of Fire was getting old.

He shrugged. “Wasn’t invited.”

Sadie frowned, watching him glance at you laughing with the pilots apologizing for the mess. “I thought all the Daggers came over on Saturday nights.”

“Not me.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips posed, before sliding her notebook over to him, pointing to the question she had just answered with the end of her pencil.

He glanced down, “You got it.”

She punched the air, wiggling in her seat. Hangman smiled.

Settling down from her mini celebration, she peered at him thoughtfully, watching him glance at her Aunt. “My Aunt said I could invite someone. Come.”

“I don’t think I’m the person she wanted you to invite.”

“Too bad,” She was quick to answer. “Something tells me you have trouble making friends, and I need some.”

Hangman scoffed, “I do not have trouble making friends. Rooster and I just don’t see eye to eye on things.”

“You're kidding. He’s a softy.” She realized she needed to change her tactic when he didn't react.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the chicken. And you could hang out with Coyote, he’s barbecuing something tonight. Guys seem to like that stuff.”

Seeing his face, she knew he was coming up with a way to let her down gently. She hated when grown-ups did that. Noticing you were coming back over and her window to convince him was closing, she quickly dragged her notebook back to her.

“Promise me you’ll at least show up,” flipping through the pages, she tore off a piece of paper, scribbling down something before placing it in front of him.

“5 o’clock. This address.” Then one last final attempt, “Or is ‘Mr. Best there is’ scared of a little campfire?”

Reaching the bar, you picked up your forgotten rag and stood in front of the two. Sadie staring somewhat hopefully at Hangman, who was peaking at something in the palm of his hand.

“How’s the Math homework, Bug?”

“Better!” She snapped her notebook shut, turning to face you. “He helped me.”

You gave Hangman a pointed look. “Did he now? Well, thank you, Hangman.”

He gave a tense smile and a nod. “Anytime.”

Watching him stand, you caught him out of the corner of your eye, pocketing something into his shorts. You guessed whatever it was, it had to have come from the notebook Sadie so conveniently snapped shut the minute you spoke.

You straighten your back, putting on your best customer service smile. “I guess we’ll be seeing you around.”

Suddenly, the damn smirk was back to gracing his face. “Tonight. Thank you for the invite, Ms. Sadie.”

Your smile dropped. “Wait, what?”

Sadie giggled loudly at your reaction, secretly pleased he gave in. “You're welcome,” She sang out.

You gawked as he leaned down next to Sadie, whispering something in her ear before she turned her head, hand blocking her mouth to say something back, a beaming smile across her face as he stepped away.

“Elizabeth,” he winked at you as he turned to leave.

You watched him go, playfully tossed your rag down on the space next to her once he was out of earshot, exclaiming, “What the hell was that!?”

Sadie only continued to smile, a dreamy look on her face as she placed her head back into her arms, watching the blonde aviator walk out the door, “He was never invited.”

“Why do you think that might be?”

She ignored your question. “He’s part of the Daggers. That makes him family.”

“All families have bad eggs,” a quiet grumble on your lips.

She looked up at you, her forehead pinched, and her stare final, “You said no questions asked.”

Shit.

When you told Sadie she could invite a friend to the Dagger night get-togethers, you thought she’d pick a new friend from school. Maybe one of the kids she played street hockey with, a friend from soccer. You told her no questions asked. Anyone she wanted, hoping it would encourage her to make new friends.

You glared at her. “Sadie.”

“Aunt Elizabeth.”

She pinned you with her eyes, daring you to move. To blink. To make a sound. To give her an answer that was anything but what she wanted to hear.

Life choices were being regretted. There was no way you were winning a staring contest against a ten-year-old. And you never backed out on a promise.

“Fine! Fine!” you gave in, throwing your hands up. “But you have to break the news to Rooster.”

With a giddy smile and a stuck-out tongue, she picked up her pencil, happy to return to the rest of her questions with a sudden newfound eagerness.

You returned to polishing the forgotten whiskey glass, biting your bottom lip and thinking, ‘I still didn’t get his name.’

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@dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

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Wickett ;)

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sluttywonwoo · 4 years ago

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the bet || j.ww x reader

Summary: you help your boyfriend’s best friend win a bet against your better judgement

Warnings: swearing, lil bit of jealousy, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Hey, can I ask a huge favor?”

You hoisted yourself up from your beach towel onto your elbows and pulled down your sunglasses to glare at the boy in front of you. You narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. What could Kim Mingyu possibly want from you?

“What is it?”

He ran a hand through his still-wet hair awkwardly. “Um, the boys and I are about to play a game of volleyball, and we’ve bet some money on it…”

“Okay?”

“And, well, it’s me and Hansol against Wonwoo, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan. Wonwoo’s their best player and I was wondering if you could distract him? So that we have a better chance of winning?”

“Distract him… how?” you asked, not fully understanding.

“You know… whatever it is you do that drives Wonwoo crazy. He’s your boyfriend, I’m sure you know how to wind him up.”

“You mean you want me to get him hard during your game?”

Mingyu nearly choked at that. “Um, I mean pretty much, yeah. Just do something that will throw him off his game.”

“So you want me to help you guys cheat?”

“It’s not technically cheating.”

“I think your definition of cheating is much looser than mine.”

“So is that a no?” he asked.

You thought about it for a second. “Is there anything in it for me?”

“We’ll give you a cut of the winnings.”

You found yourself grinning. “How much did you guys bet?”

“Two hundred if they win, three hundred if we win. Basically whoever’s on the losing team has to cough up a hundred bucks.”

“Jeez, I can’t believe Wonwoo is risking that much on a stupid game.”

“Are you upset?”

“No, it’s his money he can do whatever he wants with it. I just think he’s a dumbass.”

“Not arguing with that.”

“Do you need me to remind you that you’re betting the same amount?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “So you’ll do it? For a hundred?”

“Yeah, you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Pleasure doing business.” Mingyu smirked and held out his hand for you to shake. You rolled your eyes at the formality but shook his hand anyway, just as Wonwoo came up to the both of you and clapped Mingyu on the shoulder.

“What are my best mate and my best girl talking about?” he asked, leaning down to kiss you.

“I wanted to go swimming, but Mingyu said you guys are about to play volleyball?” You piped up before Mingyu could say anything. Maybe you should’ve felt guiltier than you did about lying to your boyfriend and for what you were about to do, but hey, a hundred dollars was a hundred dollars . And if everything went according to plan, you’d be getting some good dick too. A win win.

Wonwoo frowned a little bit. “Oh yeah, sorry. Wanna play, love?” he offered. “There’s still some room on Mingyu’s team.”

You made a face. “What about your team? Can’t you make one of your other team members switch?”

He winced. “I love you, y/n, but you’re shit at sports.”

Any trace of remorse left over what you’d agreed to do dissolved in that moment. He fucking deserved what he was about to get.

“The stupid game is that important to you? Asshole,” you scoffed, and put your sunglasses back on before laying back down on the towel.

“Y/n,” Wonwoo whined, and crouched down next to you. “I-”

“Go play your fucking game.”

He stood back up, but lingered for a moment. You could tell he felt bad, but you weren’t having it. “Wanna go swimming after?” he asked in a quiet voice.

“Sure, whatever.”

You could tell he’d walked away when the shadow over you disappeared. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you were a little pissed about the comment he’d made. Were you shit at sports? Yes, definitely, but could he have at least pretended to love you enough to be on the same team as you? Also yes. He should’ve known you were going to say no anyway.

While you were still fuming you hadn’t even realized the boys had started the game. Not even a minute in and you were already slacking on your end of the bet. You propped yourself back up for a moment to watch. You could see why Mingyu had asked for your help. Wonwoo and his team were dominating so far, and you couldn’t help but admire how fit your boyfriend looked as he served the ball to the other side of the court. You licked your lips absentmindedly, ready to pull him back to the car right fucking then.

You forced yourself to stop watching the game stood up from your towel, brushed yourself off, and began walking towards the water. You made sure to pull your bikini bottoms as far up your ass as you could in the process just to get Wonwoo’s attention as you walked past the volleyball net. Sure, you’d agreed to go swimming with him after the match, but you’d never promised to wait for him.

As you made your way down to the shore, you noted that not only Wonwoo’s head turned to watch you walk, but all five of the boys cast their attention away from the game and towards you. You glanced behind your shoulder for a second, and caught Mingyu’s smirk. He took advantage of Wonwoo’s lapse in concentration to spike the ball back over to their side and score a point.

You heard some yelling and protestation, but pretended to ignore it and continued to wade into the water.

It was warmer than you thought it would be, and deeper. There was a steep drop a few feet in that you might have tripped over if you weren’t careful. You only ended up staying in the ocean for a few minutes; Wonwoo couldn’t really get distracted by you if your whole body was submerged underwater. You weren’t there to swim around anyway, just to get your bathing suit wet so it would stick to your body.

You’d worn one that didn’t have pads in it so you knew that once you got out of the water the whole beach would be able to see your nipples poking through the fabric. You didn’t have a problem with that. Wonwoo might.

While you were down there you got your hair wet too, just for good measure. Might as well pull out all the stops since a hundred dollars were on the line.

You weren’t sure what the score was by the time you made your way back up to your towel, but you didn’t make an effort to ask. What you did know, though, was that Wonwoo was getting frustrated. Even from where you were you could see that his jaw was clenched and his brows were furrowed.

The opposing team seemed to be doing just fine though, and you stopped to watch them high-five each other after Mingyu scored another point by slamming the ball over the net onto Wonwoo side of the court.

“Damn, nice one, Gyu!” you called out from where you were standing, giving him a big smile and thumbs up. It was sort of dorky, not to mention a cheap shot, but if you knew Wonwoo as well as you thought you did, it’d be the perfect thing to rile him up.

“Thanks, y/n!” he shouted back and winked, ignoring the weird look Hansol gave him. “It’s about time you started rooting for the winning team!”

You struggled not to laugh when you looked back over to the other side of the court and saw all three boys scowling at Mingyu. You didn’t even know why he needed you in the first place, he knew how to push their buttons so well already.

Wonwoo’s fists were clenched now, and he looked this close to tackling his best friend to the ground. The two of you weren’t even flirting with each other, not really, but Wonwoo was the most competitive person you knew and it wasn’t always the best color on him. For you to be cheering for the team that he’s not on, and for that team to be winning- there was no doubt in your mind that he was royally pissed. Not to mention, that you just so happened to be cheering for his attractive best friend who may or may not have mentioned having sex dreams about you once or twice in passing.

It was good, but it wasn’t enough. Soonyoung made some offhand comment about how close the scores were so you knew you needed to keep going. You turned your attention away from the game again and lowered yourself down on your stomach on top of your towel and casually undid the strings of your bikini top to “sunbathe”.

If anyone asked it was so you didn’t get tan lines on your back, it was something that a lot of women did. In reality, however, you didn’t give a shit about tan lines, you just wanted to see how Wonwoo would react.

You pulled out your book to read while you tanned, tuning back into the game every once and a while to see how it was going. You could hear Soonyoung and Seungkwan yelling at Wonwoo to ‘pay attention’ or ‘snap the fuck out of it’ and smiled to yourself, excited for what was to come.

After several more minutes, your bathing suit was almost dry and you were starting to fall asleep on your towel. The volleyball game was taking way longer than you anticipated and you just wanted Mingyu and Hansol to win already. You didn’t have any other ideas to distract your boyfriend so you hoped they could pull it off.

Then, what you would call a fucking miracle happened. You were still nearly dozing off on top of your book when a pink Frisbee landed on the sand right in front of your face.

“Sorry about that!” called the voice of its owner and you squinted to see him jogging over to you. A few of his friends weren’t far behind and they all congregated in a little group in front of your towel. They looked to be about your age, maybe a little older. “Sorry to wake you up,” the ringleader apologized again, but smiled like he wasn’t really that sorry.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, one hand holding your loose bikini to your chest, while the other handed the Frisbee back to smiling guy. “No worries, I didn’t mean to fall asleep anyway.”

“What’s your name?” Ringleader asked. “I’m Jeonghan, and these are some of my fraternity brothers.”

Of course. You should’ve guessed. They were all jacked, tan, and had an air of privilege about them that you couldn’t miss. They were objectively cute, sure, but nothing in comparison to your boyfriend playing volleyball behind you. Not to mention their pack mentality freaked you out a little.

“I’m y/n,” you said and held your free hand out to them to shake, still keeping your other hand on your bikini top so you wouldn’t flash them. “Are you guys on a holiday break or something?”

“Yeah, just trying to make the most out of our last few days.”

“You from around here?” another boy asked, not being subtle at all in the way he was eyeing you.

“No, we just took a little day trip,” you explained and cleared your throat, wondering how long they’d stick around and when Wonwoo was going to come over and dick you down out of jealousy.

“We?” Ringlea- Jeonghan asked, cocking his head to the side. “Are you here with your friends?”

“Her boyfriend, actually,” Wonwoo piped up calmly from behind you. You looked back and saw him standing a few feet behind your towel with his arms crossed. He could be annoying, but fuck if he didn’t have good timing.

“Oh-uh, well I was nice to meet you.” Jeonghan mumbled abruptly and nodded to his friends to get back to their Frisbee game. They were gone before you could even say goodbye back.

“Attracting all sorts of attention today, aren’t you, love?” Wonwoo sneered and knelt down beside you.

His words went straight to the heat between your legs and you turned over onto your back to get a better look at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, daring him to challenge you.

“I think you do, y/n,” he continued. The way he whispered your name sent a shiver down your spine. “I mean, you’re practically naked in front of the whole beach right now.”

“I’m wearing a swimsuit.”

“You know what I mean. And all for what? To make me jealous? So I’d fuck you? Because you could’ve just asked, baby.”

You whimpered, but didn’t say anything and leaned up to kiss him, desperately wanting to feel his lips against yours. He leaned in too, but stopped just short of your mouth, pulling back a bit to look into your eyes. “I could just pull your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice.”

You moaned softly, wanting nothing more than for him to do exactly that. You weren’t even sure if you could wait to get home at this point, you wanted him inside of you now. He put a hand on each knee and spread your legs apart, whistling in awe at the wet spot on your bathing suit. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment. “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.”

“All because of you,” you panted, reaching out for him, but he pulled back.

“You know all of your teasing made me lose the game, right? I couldn’t focus because I was so distracted.” You nodded. “I was so fucking hard the whole match because of what you were doing”

And then your dumbass had to open your big mouth. “So Mingyu told you?”

Wonwoo pulled back, and gave you a confused look, clearly caught off guard. “Told me what?”

“Y/n, that was incredible, you were perfect!” Mingyu exclaimed as he ran up to you and Wonwoo, holding out a hundred dollar bill to you.

You winced as you took it, wishing you hadn’t said anything.

“Y/n, what the fuck?” Wonwoo demanded, even more frustrated than he had been a minute ago. “What were you incredible at?”

“Fucking distracting you, dude. I asked her if she’d be in on the bet with me for a cut of the winnings since you guys had more team members.”

Your boyfriend glared at you. “Is that true?”

“I mean, it’s just a game… and I thought it’d be fun,” you said quietly.

“That’s what you guys were talking about earlier, wasn’t it?��

“Yeah, she didn’t need any convincing she was totally down-”

“Mingyu,” you interrupted, pinching the bridge of your nose, “please, if you have any mercy for my pussy please shut the fuck up.”

His face went scarlet and he shut his mouth without further comment.

“So that’s it?” Wonwoo asked, obviously not ready to drop the subject yet. “You’re just gonna sell out your own boyfriend that easy?”

“You said you didn’t want to be on a team with me!”

“Don’t turn this around on me! You’re the one who helped them cheat!”

“Oh I don’t know if I’d call it cheating,” Mingyu interjected again.

“Shut up, Mingyu!” you and Wonwoo both shouted.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Mingyu said quietly. “If I had known it was going to be this big of a deal I wouldn’t have asked her. I just thought I was being clever, that it’d be a fun way to beat you guys, but I’m sorry I went too far.”

Wonwoo sighed and ran a hand through his wet curls. “It’s fine. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

“So… we’re good?” Mingyu asked, holding out a hand to help Wonwoo up.

“Yeah, we’re good. Next time, though, we’re playing fair.”

“Deal.”

“Y/n, you still want to go swimming, love?” Wonwoo asked, turning back to you.

“We’re not- we’re not going home?” Despite everything you were still incredibly horny, and you’d been patiently waiting for Wonwoo to rail you for what felt like hours now.

“Not yet,” he said and helped you to your feet. “Let’s make the most of our beach day.”

“I think the rest of us are going to find an ice cream shop,” Mingyu added. “Winners are buying. Do either of you want anything?”

“No thanks, we’ll hang out here by ourselves for a while.” Wonwoo answered for the both of you.

He wrapped an arm around your waist as you walked down to the water together and you relaxed, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin on yours. Only once you were out of Mingyu’s earshot did he lean down and whisper “your ass is going to be seven shades of red for that little stunt once we get home,” in your ear. Now it was your turn to be distracted.

lmk what you thought; i always appreciate feedback)

wonwoo tags: @wonw00t

shoot me an ask if you’d like to be added to my taglist

#the bet #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonu x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut

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gustingirl · 3 years ago

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gvf headcanon | showering together

request: Can you do a headcanon about what it’s like to shower with each of the boys ( romantic/ non romantic ) either one is fine :) thank you

warnings: not smutty but there are mentions of sexual acts

josh.

i will start by saying my next fic is gonna have this scenario so i may not expand on the topic. but it’s simple anyways: this man prefers bathing and keeping you as close as he can. i feel josh is all about bathing each other, he would not be able to keep this from turning romantic. like his love language is physical touch; josh would do anything possible to always be touching you, sexually, romantically or just for the sake of touching you. so baths are all about doing it for the other, as a sort of conjunction of your two souls. BUT, BUT, if you’re doing his hair? god bless you because he will be annoying as fuck. josh would adore the moment until you make it to his hair and he has to fight the urge to tell you to do it right.

i’m gonna avoid repeating scenarios with that fic in mind, so let me take you somewhere else. one summer vacation, you convinced josh to have a little escape to the beach. it was perfect, actually, more than josh had ever expected. the place was completely empty if it wasn’t for the three families around. you had the perfect amount of privacy that you needed and so, like this, you managed to enjoy endless hours together by the sea. however, when the night arrived, you two found yourselves dirty and covered in sand. josh was the one to have the million dollar idea: to bathe together, you know, to save time and water. you barely had to think about it, as you followed your boyfriend to the bathroom and quickly got naked, while josh set the moment. once the water was perfect and both your bodies lacked clothing, you held josh’s hand as he helped you inside the bathtub, still gripping your hand tightly as you two sat down facing each other. some kisses were shared while you tried bathing your boyfriend. for some reason, you had to start with each other’s bodies as his hands were not stopping themselves from feeling every inch of your skin. you couldn’t push him back, and so you refrained yourself to only caress his toned body with the sponge. when both of your bodies were clean from sand and dirt, it was time to wash the hair. josh turned around, letting you have free and chill access to his hair. as you applied shampoo and began massaging his scalp, the romantic atmosphere was morphed with a much serious one.

“watch out with the curls, my love” josh spoke, a mix of tenderness and demand in his voice.

it made you roll your eyes, as this was a routine by now.

“this is not my first time with your hair…my love” you added a bit of an impersonation at the end, as a sign you were getting annoyed.

he laughed back, grabbing your ankles and tracing circles on it, as an attempt to calm himself down.

“you used the pu-” you had to cut him off

“the purple shampoo? no, i used vinegar” you joked while using your nails on his scalp.

the feeling of being awfully scratched plus your sarcastic answer made your boyfriend use tickles as a response, making you laugh loudly. you kissed his neck, and continued working before josh could complain again.

sam.

sooooomething tells me there’s not a chance this doesn’t turn into either sex or probably an snl sketch. i mean, i feel sam brings happiness to anything you do with him, like his own little joy and fun that changes the mood and the course of whatever you decide to share with him. showers would not be any different: if there’s any level of horniness, then the only possible end to a shower is sex, but if there’s no mood for it, then it’s all jokes and games. sam seems to be the kind of person that could never not turn everything into a prank or an adventure. showering is just another game with sam.

the scenario is super cute: both you and sam had been away from each other for the whole day. you woke up together, could only share a quick breakfast before you were off to work, while your boyfriend had to lock himself in the studio with his band. you spent the entire day just sending messages to each other, some dirty and some sweet ones, as you were needing sam in all the possible ways. you were expecting some action by the time you could see him again but, when the moment happened, it was too late; all you needed now was a shower and your comfortable bed. sam was looking forward to showering too, and so you just proposed to do it together. the idea came in the best moments, as this was the best way to hang out without stopping from getting clean and ready for bed. however, sam could never allow such mundane activity to remain as such. all sorts of jokes were released, each one making you laugh harder than the previous one. you were bending over, holding your stomach while laughing as sam did not stop for one second from pulling jokes.

“alRIGHT TIME TO SHOWER” he announced loudly, while you worked hard to gain your composure

“ok, shampoo ti-” you tried going with his flow, but the moment you felt his hands passing shampoo on your body had you stopping mid sentence to laugh loudly once more “noT ON MY BODY, SAMUEL”

“who says shampoo only works on hair?” sam’s tone was serious, though he was far from being genuine

“the law said so” you were working hard to stay on his same level, trying to match the joke. however, sam was much better at this than you, and you could not help but laugh after finishing your sentence

“who iS THE LAW? HUH?”

there was no way to beat him at his own game, and so you had another bright idea: you were fighting fire with fire. or better said, shampoo with shampoo. you were not sure by the end of the night if you truly showered or just played with shampoo, but it was nice spending any minute with your beloved boyfriend.

danny.

danny gives off the vibes of being a total simp for his partner, to the point that he would do anything for them. like, i don’t know, i feel like danny would just want you to relax and live life to the fullest while he deals with the rest. like he would tell you to let him cook so you rest, or he would carry your stuff for you, even if it’s like the smallest, lightest bag. and like, i see him being like this regularly but i feel it only intensifies when (he knows) you’re having a bad day. it may not even be like a whole bad day, maybe just a long one or a tiring one, but he’s still gonna be the biggest simp, following his partner around to baby them and take care of them so they don’t have to do it themselves.

after a long day, like i just said, you arrived home basically dragging your feet and arms across the floor. danny had been warned by you that your mood was probably not gonna be the best. this was the base of your relationship; from starters you had settled, along with your boyfriend, a strict “rule” of communication. things were always the best when being said and not hidden, as that way you prevent any misunderstandment, fight or just suffering. therefore, you took your time to rant on chat with your beloved boyfriend, crying about your boss and your undying responsibilities. you didn’t miss the chance to express how much you needed a bit of cuddling and a lot of love from daniel. however, when you arrived home, you were not expecting your desires to be fulfilled with so much potential. danny was already standing in the middle of the living room with snacks on the table, blankets on the couch and even a few “home” clothes for you to get changed into. you were in awe as you admired his work of art, joined by his cute shy smile, the one that always meant ‘this is for you’. you jumped into his arms but, before you could thank him, he signaled for you to follow him. after taking your clothes in his hands, danny made his way towards the bathroom. once more, you couldn’t believe your eyes as you took a look around the room. it was all decorated for a relaxing bath, with candles, incense and even flowers on the water. you felt like crying, but danny wouldn’t let you do it, as he began undressing you for the occasion. before he could help you into the bath, you “forced” him to join you, given that you were dying to experience this with him. though he agreed to do it, danny still wouldn’t let you do anything. therefore, you sat on the tub while your boyfriend did all the dirty work.

“not even your hair? i love doing your hair” you were a pouting mess while hugging your knees, feeling the way your boyfriend’s fingers were doing wonders on your tired shoulders

“this night is for you, baby” you didn’t need to see his face to know he was shaking his head with a soft smile

“it’s not fair! you never let me help” you stroked his legs softly, as it was the only part of his body you had near. you truly always needed to touch him, like his skin called your name

“because you’re tired, you did enough and you worked hard. now relax and let me help you get rid of this day”

with a small kiss placed on your shoulder, you managed to breathe out the tiredness that was conquering you, all thanks to the magic your danny had, only and deservedly for you.

jake.

jakey? my poor baby cannot hide his shyness when showering with you. i can see it so clearly because you know what this man has? fucking duality. jake has probably the biggest duality out of the four of them. like josh is basically the same goofy guy on stage and off stage, danny is as quiet and nice and sam is…sam, yeah. but jacob thomas kiszka is two different men: the shy, sweet man you take home to mother, and the sex you take back to bed. and like his duality comes on and off all the time and i love it, and it’s so strong when it comes to people in general. so when it’s about a partner, i feel like jake would not be able to handle it if the shower is completely romantic or just showering. if it was shower sex then he takes the lead and is basically every man for himself. but he would be the complete opposite if sex is not on the way.

the funniest part would be if the shower comes after having rough sex. like that one afternoon he had a day off and you started the day by having sex in the rudest way ever. you loved every second of it, how he pounded into you with so much strength, holding your hips in place and later leaving some beautiful purple marks on your sides. those signs of sinful experiences were your favorite memory of jake on your body, along with the love bites he would leave on whatever part of your body he desired. however, the rest of the day consisted on cooking together, napping together, going shopping together and, obviously, playing music together. before dinner, you had the urge to get clean from not doing much during the day and still getting dirty. you offered jake to join you and he was inside the shower with you within seconds. nothing was different from before, except for jake. he was quieter than ever, and even further from you than you expected. when you finally turned around to see him, you found your boyfriend in a state of shock, with little blush on his cheeks and his eyes nailed on your body. you caught on it right away, and it was your turn then to be in shock.

“jake? are you…blushing?” you had to point it out, although you were sure he had noticed by now

“i-i just…your body…your naked body…” he was not being able to form a sentence and you could only laugh at his state

“darling, you fucked me like there was no tomorrow just hours ago. how are you shocked at seeing me naked now?” you inquired while pointing at yourself

“it-it’s different!” he was trying hard to explain himself, though he was not sure of what he was feeling “it’s not the same to see you naked beneath me as we’re fucking from seeing you naked…while sh-showering…i-i don’t know!”

now he was avoiding your stare with a big smile, feeling little next to you. you smiled widely, even giggled a bit, as you closed the space between you two to kiss him passionately. his cuteness was always your favorite yet hidden aspect of jake.

#greta van fleet #greta van fleet headcanon #greta van fleet headcanons #greta van fleet x reader #josh kiszka #sam kiszka #danny wagner #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #josh kiszka x reader #sam kiszka x reader #danny wagner x reader #gvf #.gvftxt

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rafescoke · 3 years ago

Text

Maybank ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: how about y/n is jj’s older sister and shes dating rafe but they keep it a secret bcs rafe is a dick he doesn’t want to be seen w a pogue. jj knows that his sister is dating rafe and he kinda hates rafe for keeping they relationship as a secret. then sarah threw a party n invited the pogues n they play truth or dare n a random kook dared rafe to sniff coke on some random girl’s belly n rafe accepted it without thinking abt what y/n thinks n they fight @rafeswh0ree

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Rafe would do anything to protect his title, even if it causes the girl he loves to stray away.

Warnings: Pure angst, mentions of substance!

A/N: you know the drill. . . send requests!

(Y/N) doesn’t want to remember the day her little brother found out about her relationship with a certain kook prince.

Being a year younger than (Y/N), it’s funny how he acts like a total older brother to her; always so protective, and not letting any boys touch her.

It was a Friday, and (Y/N) had sneaked out to meet Rafe by the beach. The night sky was almost perfect; the moon was illuminating them, and the waves were calming.

Rafe pressed a kiss against her lips, mumbling how much he loves her when the sound of a backpack hitting the soft sand startled them.

“What the fuck?”

(Y/N) scampered from Rafe, fixing her fallen top and running towards JJ who was already making his way back to his bike. His eyebrows were furrowed, his heart banging.

(Y/N) pulled his shoulder, “JJ, stop. It’s not what you think!”

“Wait, wait, what do you mean? Did he drown and you had to give him CPR?” He scoffed, prying his shoulders away and walking backward slowly. “This is so low of you, (Y/N). Fuck.”

JJ noticed that something was different with his sister a few months ago. The sneaky texts under the table, the sudden smile at her phone screen. . . he had thought of the actions as nothing more than (Y/N) contacting her friends.

And when he saw her in Figure 8 two weeks ago, in a fancy restaurant he works part-time in, she had told him that her new friend had brought her there.

As if she would ever have a kook friend.

Of course it wasn’t a kook friend. It was a kook boyfriend.

“JJ, please! Why are you like this?”

JJ turned his heels to look at (Y/N) properly. His nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were wild. Trying to contain his anger, “Your fucking boyfriend is a drug addict and I’m not letting you date someone who choked my friends before!”

He waited, and extended his hands. “It’s me or Rafe. Stay if you want to stay with him, and come with me if you want to come back home.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispered, letting a tear rolled down her cheeks. She thought of many scenarios where JJ will eventually find out about her and Rafe, but this wasn’t in her list.

“Me or Rafe.”

(Y/N) remembers exactly the way JJ walked away disappointedly, his head hanging low and his hands balled up in a fist.

It took her weeks to regain JJ’s trust and fix their relationship, and though JJ still hasn’t accepted Rafe, he’s okay. He’s quiet, sometimes seething at the boy, but he knows how much (Y/N) loves him.

“Hey,” Rafe smiles, placing a kiss directly on her cheeks. Her hot body from the scorching sun slowly tempers down, and she melts into his touch.

Pulling him close, she nestles into his chest. “Sarah’s having a party tonight.”

“Yeah? You’re coming?”

“We’re coming, Rafe,” she sighs. The sprinkling water from the fast motion of the boat hits her on her face, and she wipes them away before looking up to this handsome face.

She rubs her thumb against his cheeks, feeling him soften. “If I ask you something, can you not be mad?”

“Is this about letting everyone know about us?” He asks, his hands resting above her hips. He removes them and wraps his face, sighing.

(Y/N) bites her lips, already knowing the answer to her question. “Never mind.”

“We talked about this, (Y/N).”

“I know, so I’m not going to fight with you on this again,” she sits up straight, inching away from him. “I mean, after almost a year of dating, I think you’d—”

“You’re forcing this.”

“I’m not!” She stands up, groaning. “God, you’re starting a fight again!”

The silence between them grows again, both sulking and shouting in their heads. After a while, (Y/N) moves to the front deck of the boat and Rafe curses silently, knowing that the plan he had about strolling by the stream with the girl he loves is a failure.

But it’s not his fault, is it? He just can’t show her off. It’s bad enough that her brother’s aware of their relationship, and Rafe had to make sure that son of a bitch never opens his mouth to anyone.

“Hey, yo, JJ, got a minute?”

The blonde waiter grunted, eyeing Rafe with so much hatred before placing a cold mineral bottle on the table.

“Rafe, don’t cause any scene,” Topper warned, staring at the both of them. He could sense something was wrong, but he didn’t put this mind into it. He thought of it as nothing more than Rafe’s daily fights with the pogues.

JJ didn’t reply, not wanting to see his smug face what more to talk to him, but as he tried to return back to the kitchen, Rafe gripped his wrist tightly.

“Just a minute,” he smiled.

JJ quirked his head to the back of the kitchen where the workers usually smoke. Rafe nodded, letting go of his wrist, and whispered something to Topper.

“What do you want?” JJ asked once they were in the back alley, watching as Rafe lighted a cigarette and bringing the stick to his lips.

“How’s (Y/N)?”

“Isn’t that your problem?” The blonde boy scoffed, “Hey, man, look. I appreciate this family bonding activity you’re trying to have, but you’re no family. I care about (Y/N), and I’m in no way letting her be with you.”

What angered JJ more wasn’t the fact that he didn’t reply, but it was the superior look he plastered on his face. He felt the urge to slap and hurt him more than anything else.

“If there’s one thing we can agree on—” he said, blowing a puff of smoke. JJ inched backward, not wanting the smell of tobacco to linger on his uniform or he’ll be in trouble. “—is that we both care for her. I understand if you don’t want anyone else to know about me and (Y/N), and I hope it will stay that way.”

“You don’t want me to tell anyone else?”

“Yeah,” Rafe smiled. “It’s bad enough I have to pull you away in the middle of my lunch. Can’t afford to do that with more people.”

“Is it because you’re embarrassed to be seen with her?”

“Can you do that for me?” Rafe asked, ignoring his last question.

“Fuck you, Cameron.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rafe laughed, patting his shoulder and watching as he flinched away. “I think I’ll see you around more than we both want to, Maybank.”

“Hey,” (Y/N) whispers, placing a hand against his shoulder. “What’s wrong? You’re in a daze.”

“You’re not mad at me anymore?” He asks, tilting his head up. That was quick, but he likes it. She can never be mad at him for more than 30 minutes.

She crosses her arms, “You want me to be mad at you?”

He shrugs and pulls her to his lap. “You’re hotter when you’re mad.”

. . .

If there’s one thing Rafe’s sure of, he hates parties when he will be the one to clean up the mess the next morning.

Ward and Rose are out for the weekend for their anniversary, and Wheezie is somewhere for a summer camp she has been begging Ward to go to.

Like always, Sarah Cameron takes this opportunity as a way to host the biggest party of the year, inviting all of her pogue friends and letting Rafe do the honor of inviting the kooks.

(Y/N) walks in with her best friend, having to pretend to not be so familiar with the whole house as if she’s not dating the son of Ward Cameron.

“Yo, this house is huge.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) agrees, walking towards the drinks area and grabbing boozes for her and her friend. “Hey, I’m going to see someone, can you wait for me down here?”

Before she can walk away, Sarah Cameron appears excitedly and pulls her into a tight hug. “(Y/N)! What a surprise! JJ’s outside, if you’re looking for him.”

“Trust me, I’m not looking for him,” she laughs, “Have you seen Rafe? I, um, I called him up before for some stuff.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s on the porch,” she replies, and before (Y/N) can make a move, she holds her tightly. “Be careful. He’s got the heaviest stuff with him.”

As if she doesn’t know that.

She smiles, muttering her thanks before heading towards the porch. It’s hard to pretend to not know who Rafe is after spending her whole year with him.

Sure enough, Rafe is sitting by Topper’s side with his other friends surrounding them, his hair messily parted and his nose red. She sighs, knowing exactly what state he’s in.

“Yo, Maybank,” Topper laughs, pulling the empty seat beside him. “Come sit.”

Rafe looks up to the sound of her name, and before she can register the look on his face, he bows down again.

“Hey,” she greets, sitting beside Topper. “You’re okay?”

“This party’s the shit,” he answers, obviously in a drunken state, and pats Rafe’s back. “Yo, yo, you got the same ring as my boy right here.”

Topper grabs the gold ring hanging from (Y/N)’s necklace, bringing it closer under the light and taking Rafe’s hand. “Wow, are you guys soulmates?”

The boys around them laugh, and (Y/N) pulls her necklace away before anyone can guess anything. She watches as Rafe grunts, still so busy trying to separate the powder in lines.

“Wanna try a line?”

“She can’t, Topper.”

All eyes are on Rafe now, who’s rubbing his nose and licking his lips. Rafe never stops anyone from doing a line and even asked Wheezie if she wanted to try one before, so the words that came out of his mouth appear as a shock to all of them.

“Why?” (Y/N) asks, tilting her head to one side. If he doesn’t want to show her off to his friends, he might as well stop trying to control her life. She looks back to Topper, “I’ll try a line, Tops.”

Topper smiles, giving her a rolled-up 100 dollars bill and pushing his chair back to allow her in. (Y/N) takes the chance to brush her back against Rafe’s front, hearing his ragged breath all the sudden.

She bends down, giving Rafe the perfect view of her back, and snorts a line. She falls onto Rafe’s lap as he pulls her close, breathing into her sweet smell as she throws her head back from the sudden tingling in her stomach.

“Stand up,” he orders in her ears, “Stand up, (Y/N).”

Before Rafe can push her off, she stands up quickly and makes her way back to her previous seat. She only tried coke once, way before she met Rafe, and she had thought of it as nothing more but the last time she tried the substance. She prefers drinking to get her mind off since then.

“You’re joining the game later?” Topper asks, glancing down at her short skirt. (Y/N) mindlessly pulls her dress down, and throws her head back once again.

“What game?”

“Truth or dare,” he smiles.

“I don’t play children’s games,” she fakes yawn, “Are you playing?”

“I don’t think so,” he replies, licking his lips. “Like you said, I don’t play children’s games.”

Whatever Topper’s doing to get (Y/N)’s attention; it’s just not working. She’s way too head over heels for the boy beside him, who’s still red and flustered from the brief teasing she had for him a few moments ago.

“(Y/N), wanna grab a drink?”

Both (Y/N) and Topper look up to Rafe. He’s trying his hardest not to look at her again and busies himself with the powder. “You don’t look quite comfortable with Topper.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” she replies, watching as his head snaps back to her. She licks her lips, “We’re alright, aren’t we, Tops?”

Topper nods, more than ready to have a fling with the pretty girl beside him, pogue or not pogue.

“Okay,” Rafe replies, “Whatever you say.”

Whatever (Y/N)’s doing to grab his attention; she’s doing a great job at it. Rafe’s jaw tenses at the sound of her laughter, and he has to look the other way when Topper’s hands sneak their way to around her shoulders.

He’s almost glad when Sarah comes to tell them something about the game starting. He sneaks to beside (Y/N), giving her a soft touch on her back, and off he goes to sit on the opposite side of her.

His mind’s still woozy, and he’s struggling to even open his eyes. The booming music still thrums against his eardrums, and the drinks he had earlier keeps every muscle of his active and ready to do anything crazy.

“You’re playing?” Someone asks him from the right.

What else can happen from a silly game of truth or dare?

“Yeah.”

Rafe hopes (Y/N) isn’t playing, because he knows the stupid things his friends would ask her. Always being the topic of his friends’ conversations, he’s clear with their intentions towards (Y/N).

And he’s not making any of it a reality.

“Topper, truth or dare.”

“Truth,” he answers, and Rafe’s eyes snap back to (Y/N). Surprisingly, her eyes are already on him, her stare so pierced that Rafe has to shift his position to ignore the aching in the pits of his stomach.

Rafe doesn’t care enough to listen to whatever his best friend’s saying, and his eyes stay on (Y/N). The girl smiles at him, and his eyes trail down to her chest.

Of course she would wear something like a top that doesn’t cover half of her chest.

He looks away, biting his lips.

“(Y/N)! Truth or dare?”

(Y/N) groans at Topper, crossing her arms and yelling ‘I’m not playing’. Her friends moan at her, pressuring her to keep the game going, and after a few pleas and more groans, she sighs.

She’s so easy to manipulate.

Rafe stares at her again, licking his lips.

“Dare.”

The crowd cheer, but the volume is down to mute to Rafe, who’s too busy having her glued to his brain. She looks wonderful under the dim lights, and Rafe wants nothing more than to have her screaming under him.

“I dare you to make out with the hottest person in the room.”

“Change the game,” Rafe says to no one in particular, sitting up straighter. “Change the game.”

“Yo, what?” Kelce asks, “What’s wrong with you?”

Rafe ignores his friend, and stares at the girl.

(Y/N) stands up from her seat and walks towards Topper, and Rafe can feel his heart stopping. His fear is coming to reality, and she’s so close to Topper they’re practically kissing.

He lays his head against the cushion, his heart aching.

“Yo, Rafe, it’s your turn!”

Rafe sits up straighter, rubbing his eyes and looking around the group as everyone else stares at him. He groans, feeling so tired and not having a clue where he have gone to a few minutes ago.

It might the aftermath of the coke, but it doesn’t feel as good as always.

How long did he pass out?

“Truth or dare, Rafe.”

“I’m not playing,” he mumbles, rubbing his temple.

“If you’re backing out now, you’ll have to pay a hundred bucks.”

What the fuck?

“Since when?” He asks, looking up to the random girl he has seen around the country club a few times. “That’s not the rules.”

“It is now.”

“Fine. Dare.”

Anything to put an end to this game.

“I dare you to do a line on Jessie’s back.”

The room grows silent, and Rafe can feel all stares at him. He blinks, trying to register what he just heard, and laughs. “Just a line?”

(Y/N) bites her lips. He wouldn’t do it, would he?

Somehow, JJ finds his way behind the couch (Y/N) is sitting on. He places a hand comfortably on her shoulder and watches her jerk. “You’re okay?”

She doesn’t reply, but JJ knows the answer all too well.

Rafe’s friends clear the table off from drinks and Jessie lays her bare back against the glass table. Rafe doesn’t look up to her to ask for permission or to give her any reassurances, and it feels as if he wants to do it too.

JJ’s grip around her shoulder tightens, “You should go.”

She shakes her head, staring at the scene before her.

The intoxicating powder is poured by an excited Topper directly on Jessie’s stomach, and (Y/N) feels sick to her core. She feels like screaming, because why wouldn’t he say no?

It’s not like a hundred bucks would be too much for him to stop playing.

Rafe dips his head to the same level as Jessie’s head, and (Y/N) stares at the girl bites her lips the same way (Y/N) does when Rafe’s close to her.

Except he’s close to someone else.

The crowd erupts into a loud roar again as Rafe finally stands up from the lines, his head becoming more bumping and his respiratory rate increasing.

The kook prince doing a line on some hot girl in Figure 8.

What a headline.

His eyes look up to the people around him, but (Y/N) is nowhere in sight.

“Where is she?” He asks Topper. His hands found themselves wrapped around Topper’s shoulders for balance.

“Where is who?”

“My girlfriend,” he answers, not thinking much. “I have to go.”

“What girlfriend, Rafe?” Topper laughs. “Man, you’re in too deep. The game’s not finished.”

“I’ll pay the hundred,” he replies and makes his way out of the party. His sight is becoming so blurry that he falls by the side of the pool a few times before he sees the sight of her climbing JJ’s bike.

“Hey, hey, where are you going?” He asks, standing in front of the bike and not letting JJ turn to the exit. “The party’s not finished!”

“Fuck off, Cameron,” JJ replies, blocking Rafe’s view of his girlfriend. (Y/N) stares down to her lap, not wanting to look him in the eyes, and Rafe’s breath hitches at the silence.

“What did I do?”

Before Rafe can hear any explanation, JJ pushes him down to the side road and he groans from the sudden impact. He looks up to the blonde and lunges for him, only for them to end up by the side of the road.

“Oh my god, stop!” (Y/N) yells, trying to pry her brother away from Rafe. “JJ, he’s not thinking straight. Let’s just go!”

“Don’t get near (Y/N) ever again!” JJ yells, his eyes flaring up in anger and his knuckles turning purple. “She deserves someone better than a cheating fuck like you!”

Out of all the responses Rafe can give to JJ, he lets out the coldest laugh, and the sound of his voice carries throughout the dark neighborhood.

“I’m cheating? She was cheating on me too!”

“What are you saying?” (Y/N) scoffs, “I wasn’t cheating, Rafe, I’m not you.”

“Yeah? The kiss with Topper?”

“That wasn’t a kiss! I gave him a peck on his cheeks!”

“That doesn’t excuse the fact you didn’t kiss me.”

“Is that why you’re acting like a dick? Because I didn’t kiss you when Tops asked me to kiss the hottest guy in the room?” She laughs. This whole thing seems funny all of a sudden after hearing Rafe’s side of the story. “I thought you want us to stay lowkey.”

“Whatever, can you get your fucking bodyguard off me?” Rafe replies, “And don’t call him Tops. It’s like you’re begging to get fucked by him.”

JJ makes a move again, but (Y/N) quickly pulls him away. She wipes her eyes with the back of her hands, and Rafe wishes he hadn’t said the words out loud.

JJ finally lets go of him and walks to his bike, feeling so tired but pumped at the same time from the brief fight with Rafe. He wanted more than anything for them to break up, but what just happened isn’t exactly what he had in mind.

“So you’re going?”

“There’s no reason for me to stay, Rafe,” she replies. “You don’t even want to admit that we’re dating. Are you embarrassed of me?”

When he doesn’t reply, (Y/N) pushes his chest that he staggers backward, still so woozy and lightheaded he feels like fainting.

“Are. You. Embarrassed. Of. Me?”

Rafe stays silent, looking down to the ground and wishing the world would just swallow him up.

“Go to hell, Rafe,” she replies, and Rafe inches backward when her gold ring he had bought for her to match his own ring rolls down to his feet. He quickly looks up to her.

She’s not breaking up with him, is she?

If he felt like he has gone through hell before, this feeling is a lot worse.

Part #2

@okayshoto @joselyn001 @onceuponateenagetrash @dyingsleeping @iwannabeapogue @meaganjm @rafesobxs @flossy2929 @unfortunatekiwitrash @scottybitch @asimpwriter @amaya124 @tommy-tommo @thatshithurted8 @fallincindy @marvelwhor3 @rafeswh0ree @kookap @supernaturallydc-blog @blank-velvet @alaniskauany @kiiim8 @witchywrter @kaitlyn2907 @heyimflo @overcookedpastasause @tsukkiswifeey @spidey-d00d @anonymousobxfan @gotmeinloveagain @chicagoblackhawkslover96 @lexi-writes @classydragonthingknight @belongtoyou-u @badbussylol @savannah-elliott @angelreyesgirl100 @haterpenny @beehappyyy @alwaysclassyeagle @maybankslut @kayleea122 @clearbolts @lovelyxtom @christianaevans @jemimah-b99 @opierdalacz @dangerdolns @wildflowerliv @classygirlything21 @alwaysclassyeagle @rottenstyx @wxn-drlst

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smuts #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #outerbanks #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks one shot #outerbanks imagines

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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago

Note

Please please please can we see Joanne reacting to the Chris saves himself au???

The Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two | Three

CW: Whumper POV, abusive family member, ableist, ableism, pet whump universe

Jo's sitting at an outdoor cafe, sipping a hot cup of fresh coffee while the ocean beats against the Hawaiian sand. She's waiting on her breakfast and has a book open in front of her she has yet to read.

The sky and the water are nearly the same blue. It's dazzling. She can't take her eyes off it.

She's here for work, helping with getting a newly-opened WRU Facility off the ground. There have been protests, of course - Hawaiians have protested WRU making inroads pretty viciously, and Jo is glad for the secret employee entrance she uses so that the residents of this place don't know who she works for. Still, WRU is paying for the extended-stay hotel and three meals a day, and her nephew's inheritance pays for the drinks.

She cuts the thought before his face can enter her mind.

She dreams about him slumped over, mumbling about how tired he was, sometimes. Once the sedatives kicked in, anyway. She'd been irritated the first round didn't seem to work, and then worried she'd accidentally overdosed him after the second.

But no. No, the Acquisitions team had assured her he would be considered in perfect condition. And her finder's fee and bonus had really emphasized that he was.

Whatever. That problem is solved.

Joanne sighs, wistful. There are already people in the water, even at dawn. She can hear laughter filtering up from the beach.

It's beautiful.

Ronnie would have loved Hawaii. They had always planned to go together, before their falling-out.

Too bad her fucking husband and stupid brat dragged her down with them. Too bad the husband was a shitheel Irish mob asshole, too bad Ronnie's son was a piece of fucking work, too bad the stupid bastard couldn't stay hidden the one time it counted...

Joanne sniffs and wipes at the corner of her eye. Grief is hard - it comes and goes. But at least Tristan isn't her problem any longer.

He's probably happy as a clam doing someone's fucking gardening somewhere. Joanne simply refuses to admit that isn't at all what he is likely to be used for. It doesn't matter.

What she doesn't know, she isn't legally responsible for.

Lost in her thoughts, Joanne doesn't notice the uniformed officers who enter the cafe behind her. She takes a photo of the morning sun as an officer holds up a photocopied piece of paper to the server behind the counter. She posts the phot to her Instagram with #islandliving is the life for me! as the server points her direction and the officer nods and thanks them for their help.

She has missed calls and texts on her phone, but she'll check those later. Jo never looks at her phone before 8 am anymore. It makes everything much more peaceful.

She sees the first couple likes trickle in as the officer speaks to his partner and the two of them head her direction.

"Joanne Botham?"

She's startled out of her thoughts by the officer's voice and looks up to blink at the woman, her straight black hair in a low ponytail and expression stern. Jo feels an instinctive beat of apprehension. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you, officer?"

The officer has an odd look to her. Not hostile, but... not friendly. "Joanne Botham, resides at 435 Janus Way, in Berras, California? Employed by WRU?"

Her heart beats faster and Jo sets her phone down. Then picks up her coffee. "Yes. Is something wrong with my house?"

"No. Do you recognize this individual?"

The officer holds up another printed out photo and Jo's stomach falls to her knees and firmly lodges there. She drops her coffee, mug shattering on the floor, ceramics and liquid everywhere. The officer doesn't even flinch.

It's her fucking nephew.

It's Tristan in a hospital bed, looks like, staring at the camera with wide uncomprehending eyes. His hair is shorter than it used to be, and there is a ring of bruising around his neck, more bruises littered over his collarbone and shoulders.

She has a sudden wild urge to say she's never seen him before. Instead, she swallows and repeats the story she's practiced over and over until she's sure she can pass any lie detector test. "Yes. That's my late sister's son, Tristan. He ran away after their deaths. I thought he was dead."

The officer doesn't argue, just nods. "I see. Well, Ms. Botham, what would you say if I told you that your nephew is alive?"

Jo looks carefully, believably surprised. "He is? Where did you find him? I looked everywhere I could think of!"

"Did you?" The way the officer asks the question tells Jo there is a piece of the puzzle she hasn't seen yet... and it won't be something she likes. "Well, you'll be relieved to hear he was found alive."

"Yes... yes, I am. Relieved."

She's furious.

That little shit is going to ruin her life all over again, isn't he? She'll set his inheritance on fire before she lets him see a dollar. WRU was supposed to make it so she never saw him again.

She should have kept him locked in his room and left him there.

"I'll fly back home right away to see him," She says, a distant ringing filling her mind. "Where is he?"

"Your nephew is receiving medical care. Let's head down to the station. I'll fill you in on the details when we get there."

"Well-... Of course, officer, but I need to call my workplace-"

"We are already in contact with WRU, Ms. Botham. They are aware that you will not be in to work today. A WRU representative will be at the station."

Joanne takes in a breath and slowly lets it out. "I... I need a lawyer, don't I?"

"That's up to you, ma'am. All we want to do is talk. Please come with me." The officer steps back and gestures. Joanne stands, and the beauty of the day is suddenly lost on her entirely.

"Am I being charged with something?" Her voice is faint, suddenly. She swallows hard. "Am I being-"

"The only charged so far are laid against Governor Oliver Branch, ma'am."

"Against who?"

"Ma'am. Please come with me." There's a hand on her elbow and Joanne stumbles along. At the counter, the server is taping this, streaming it live. Jo glances up at the television over in the corner ceiling to see a news anchor talking about a WRU-branded human pet falling out of a balcony at the California governor's mansion and the resulting scandal.

Joanne thinks of all those missed calls on her phone.

"They're blaming me, aren't they?" She asks, coming to a sudden stop on the sidewalk outside. "They're blaming me! I'm going to be the fall guy, right?"

"Get in the car, Ms. Botham," The officer says firmly. One hand moves to her hip. "We can discuss this at the station."

Joanne sees the server with their phone out, following. The stupid little ass is smiling. They think this is funny.

It occurs to Jo they knew who she worked for all along.

She turns and with wild eyes yells, "WRU knew! I did nothing wrong! They knew!"

She's going to need one hell of a lawyer.

She's going to need a miracle.

She suddenly wishes she hadn't spent so much of Tristan's money. She could've used it for her legal fees.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @whumpfessional

#whump #pet whump #box boy #box boy universe #jesus joanne #chris saves himself au #whumper pov #ableism tw #abusive family member #whumper gets comeuppance #derogatory language #brief

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paisley-print · 4 years ago

Text

Near The Water’s Edge: Chapter One

After fleeing your abusive husband, you find yourself in the small coastal town of July, North Carolina. Soon you meet Frankie Morales, Air Force Veteran and single dad. As the two of you grow closer, you begin to let go of your past and learn to love again. That is until a strange man shows up in town, and you 're forced to choose between your safety or the safety of the people that you love.

Inspired by the novel “Safe Haven” written by Nicolas Sparks.

Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Rating: 18+ / Heavy adult themes eventual smut.

Trigger Warnings: Domestic Abuse, Drowning, Dark Water.

Word Count: 1744

Note: I tagged everyone who liked the original posts. To stay on the permanent list please either send me a message or write it on the post. Enjoy <3

Series Master List

Chapter One

Aggressively American, that was the only fitting description of the place you found yourself in. July was a coastal town located in the southern part of North Carolina. It was pronounced like ‘Julie’ but nobody ever called it that. It had been the farthest place your two hundred dollars in cash could take you; and as the greyhound pulled away, you wondered if you should have chosen Nebraska instead.

It wasn’t that the town was dirty, quite the opposite actually...it just felt manufactured. Too perfect to be real. The streets were named things like Liberty and Independence. The shop fronts were brick and all along the main street there were American flags and flower pots holding red, white and blue geraniums.

The name Norman Rockwell came to mind.

As you walked along the main street, you surveyed the many shopfronts. To a passerby it seemed as though you were looking to buy something - in your mind, however, your thoughts were racing.

‘I made a mistake, I know I did.’ You analyzed the last few hours, replaying the memories over and over again as if on VHS; scrutinizing every last detail. ‘He would track me down, find me - by morning. Should I go back? No- it was too late for that.’

It was still early in the afternoon, but finding a place to sleep tonight was paramount. The trip had taken eleven hours straight through. Only ever stopping to change buses and refuel - you were exhausted and your muscles ached.

‘Food,’ you thought ‘I should eat…’

But did you have enough? Depending on how much a motel cost around here, you figured you would only have enough to cover a room for one night. So food would have to wait.

As you rounded a corner, you were met with the sight of the bay. It wasn’t anything like the brown water in New Jersey, the water here was a deep green. The boats created little swells along the surface, and the sun’s glint off the peaks made it look like the water was filled with emeralds.

On the left side of the street stood a marina and dockside restaurant. The smell of food made your stomach grumble. On the right side was a series of Victorian style houses, stone pillars and large porches dominated the structures.

A sign in front of one had caught your attention: American Dreams B&B.

‘Jesus’ you thought ‘they’re really leaning into this whole aesthetic aren’t they?’

A bell on the front door chimed as you entered. The decor of the place looked dated; as if it hadn’t been touched since the 80s. Lots of wood tones and floral patterns. You didn’t mind it though…. it made you feel at home.

An older woman was sitting at the front desk watching a soap opera on a little TV perched on the counter. She looked up and smiled as you approached.

“Hello there. How can I help you today?”

“Do you have any rooms open?”

“Sure do, we have three vacancies right now.”

Relief washed over you, “what’s the nightly rate for the smallest?”

“That would be the pink room at $175 a night.”

More than you had anticipated…. “All take it, thank you.”

The woman turned to the computer. The monitor was old and heavy- it looked bigger than the TV. “Driver’s license?”

You hadn’t even thought of that… “I don’t have one, would a birth certificate work?”

You cringed at the sound of it. Who carries around a birth certificate as identification? It was all you had, so you gave it to her, however you knew that the odd request made you stick out in the woman’s mind. Surely she would remember you if someone came asking…

The woman hesitated but took the certificate, reading it out loud “Summer Emma Sparks.”

You swallowed hard and shifted on your feet, feeling sick. The circumstances surrounding how you secured the certificate flooding your mind...

‘I needed it,’ you remind yourself.

The woman, whose name you found out to be Mae, handed you a key and sent you on your way. Now the plan would be to look for a job, something that worked off of tips. Having as much cash available to take with you at a moment’s notice was important. First, though, you would sleep.

And as the tide lapped against the boat dock across the street, you slipped into the darkest, soundest slumber you had in years. You were safe for the time being.

There was something to be said about the little joys surrounding small town life. In New Jersey neighbors barely knew each other, and would even go so far as to avert their eyes or turn their backs when passing them on the street. Here though, people were kind.

Too kind sometimes, always pressing you with questions...you couldn’t fault them for it though. If you were here under normal circumstances, you would have welcomed such friendly chatter. It almost pained you to be so dismissive, but you needed to be, for your safety and theirs. The less anybody knows about you, the better.

You set down a tray of empty cups and looked at the clock on the wall, debating whether to take another table. Even though your shift technically didn’t end for another twenty minutes, most of the night servers were already here and the day had been long.

You managed to get a job at the restaurant next to the marina on your second day in town. The owner suggested you start the following weekend, but you persuaded him to let you train that day just so you could get the free meal that they provided with every shift. The tips weren’t enough to buy a hotel room though, and so you had to sleep on the beach that night.

Thankfully, the tips for the last few days had been good, allowing you to buy a week in the bed-and-breakfast. Most of the servers at the restaurant were teenagers who could only work the evenings, allowing you to take as many morning and afternoon shifts as you wanted. Sometimes there would be another server with you, but most days you were alone. You didn’t mind one bit, the dining room was small and easy for you to handle by yourself.

You had your eye on a few rental properties on the far side of town. A mobile home community offering one bedroom complexes for dirt cheap prices. You were suspicious at first, but after taking a walk through the neighborhood you realized most of the people who lived there were snowbirds or weekend warriors.

Those residents who did live their full time seemed like you, friendly people who had fallen on bad times. They weren’t the confederate flag wielding, dip spitting, rednecks you first thought they would be; and for that you were thankful.

“Summer….. Summer.”

You turned suddenly, remembering that was your name. “Yeah?”

Your boss was holding two containers of soup “do me a favor and put these in the fridge before you go?”

“Of course,” you said, allowing him to pass the containers off to you.

The fridge was a separate unit out back; it looked like a little shed. From where you were, you could see a full view of the marina. It was set a little farther back than the restaurant. To the left, lines of boats bobbed up and down with the tide. There was a parking lot next to that, then at the very end was a house... or what you assumed was a house.

Elevated about six feet on stilts and spanning two stories high. It wasn’t anything like the grand Victorians that stood opposite of it. It was unassuming, modern and clean. Your eyes fixed on movement off to the side. Below the house to the right, you noticed a little girl. She had to be no more than three years of age, reaching for something over the bulkhead. A feeling of dread clutched at your stomach.

‘She’s going to fall’ you thought suddenly.

Both containers of soup hit the ground and exploded - painting the side of the building. You didn’t even notice as you sprinted down the shelled driveway towards the house. The splash came as soon as you threw open the gate and without even a moment of hesitation; you jumped into the water.

It was freezing, like little needles pricking your skin from all sides. The salt water stung your eyes like something wicked, but you forced yourself to keep them open. You scanned what was around you, murky green darkness and foliage that reached up from the sand like the tendrils of a kraken. Threatening to grab you and pull you down into its watery depths.

Your eyes landed on a flash of pink below. With all of your strength you pushed yourself forward, hooking an arm around the girl and bringing you both to the surface. Just as you broke through the world above, you saw a man skid to a stop and reach for the girl in your arms.

You gasped, and the little girl coughed and hiccuped... then started to cry. It was music to your ears; it meant that she was breathing. You held the girl up as far as possible; the man took her and moved away from the bulkhead.

“Make sure she’s okay,” you choked, the water assaulting your senses. You tread for a moment longer before the man reappeared and offered you his hand. You took it and he pulled you from the water easily.

Bracing yourself on the bulkhead you brought your weight over the rest of the way. The man immediately turned his attention back to the little girl, bringing her to his chest and clutching her as she wailed.

You blinked, hands coming up to rub the salt from your eyes, the world coming back into focus. The man was older, wearing a navy blue baseball cap and a grey flannel.

His brown eyes still held a spark of panic in them as he looked at you. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough….she was right there, then I turned around and….” He held onto her a little tighter and sighed, closing his eyes. The little girl was settling into a mess of sniffles and whimpers. “Don’t ever do that again, baby,” he breathed.

Tag List For This Chapter Only:

@heythere-mel @aquilacorvinal @krystlebee @pedro-pascal1503 @giizhkens-cedar @luckystrikesalterego @rayofhalsey @almost-golden-again @myheart-pedro @the-cosmic-ghost-18 @sewmanystitchssewlittletime @wwwbackslashcreedthoughts @anabundanceofmeg @petermj213

Permanent Tag List:

@hnt-escape

#pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #triple frontier #Frankie fanfiction #frankie morales #Frankie Morales fanfic #Frankie Morales fanfiction #pedro fanfic #pedro fanfiction #nearthewater'sedge #frankie has a daughter #its basically canon at this point #so I stuck with it

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im-pretending-imthere-already · 3 years ago

Text

waiting for a dead line

No one told me I would be living my life waiting for the due date. Summers pass and tress blend into wrinkled yellows and passionate reds. Winters blow the bears to sleep and sprinkle the soft grass white. Blue skies become grey and fade into purples that I can’t forgive. The birds sing the mornings alive, roses bloom but I didn’t deserve this. White walls grow dirty with time, pencil itched into the wall years ago, I was young.

The first time I saw snow. I was young. I felt my fingertips tingle into a numbness. I was young when I sat beside my cousin mesmerised by the growing hills. I was young when we drank the warm hot chocolate, and felt it slither down our throats in contrast to the cold that folded and bent below us. I was young. I was young when he beat me right in front of my mother. That snow is long gone, it melted into lush grass and seeped into roots, bloomed into the yellow flowers that border fences and daisies and roses and the occasional berry bush that makes you happy when you find it.

I always wondered how many more stars would litter the night sky if we all turned our lights off. If the globe went silent for a minute and we all lifted our heads and just simply, observed. I often found comfort in the few stars that glistened in the night sky. Maybe the Greeks were right, maybe they could hear me, help me. The sky is so beautiful as it looks down on us, so deep and blue, black as it clings onto the edges of the globe. The same sky I stared into when he promised he’d kill me. The same sky that I stared into on the train ride back from school. The same sky I stared into that one new year. The same sky that grows bright in the morning and blends into pinks and bloodied reds and dusty oranges in the evenings. The same sky I share with everyone else.

The world is beautiful when it is not ticking. Waters are calmer when they aren’t fighting to be pushed. Fires blow calmly when they aren’t hungry. The beach is beautiful, I know that, despite only seeing it 3 times. But I often imagine how warm the waves would be if I weren’t tied to the sand. The city is full of art, walls full of colour, people that tie ribbons into pretty shapes and guitars tuned to perfection. But I can never dance. I can only smile at the small joy of listening to its notes and sneaking five dollars into a pretty red hat. I think I like the world. But the world doesn’t like me.

#depression #writing #poetry #my poetry #writer #queer #abuse cw #tw truama #childhood truama #wlw #lesbian #ex religious #ex muslim #queer experience

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

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Hi! just finished reading your Tumblr request on AO3 and I just looooove your writing ;; if it's not a problem I wanted to ask how you imagine that Lucifer, Mammon and Beel would react to a MC who is usually very quiet and not very expressive, impossible to embarrass or make nervous, to suddenly, one day manage to make her blush for the first time (Also, English is not my first language, so I hope this is okey) I wish you a lovely week ❤

A/N: This is adorable! Sorry for the slow turn around, I hope you enjoy!❤

Lucifer

Stoicism is something he normally finds very attractive in a woman. To be able to keep such a level of calm outlook during even times that might even shake him. He loves the idea of a power couple, and the way you hold yourself. You definitely make one.

It does grate him that he can’t fluster you like you do him, especially during your time together in private. He tries multiple ways to even just draw some color to your cheeks. Flowers in the classroom, hand written invitations to private dining establishments and venues, he even went to the human realm just to find some kind of familiar comfort to give to you. You love them all he knows but he wants, craves to see an uninhibited reaction from you. He’ll get it one day, his pride depends on it at this point.

Luck graces him one evening after a hellish work day. A fight in the school yard leading to property damage he had to do extra paper work for. The only saving grace of that was it wasn’t one of his brothers, this time. Only followed soon after by a report of yet another racket engineered by Mammon. Then, to top off a horrible day one of Belphie and Satan’s little “pranks” blew up half his office.

All his loose or unprotected paperwork, gone. Nothing but smoldering bits of ash. He was now more than ever thankful to have you by his side. Before he could get his hands on the two you stepped in shooing him away to deal with the other fires that needed to be put out while you handled his office.

Things got done, in record time for once. He was able to rewrite his notes for the next council meeting, but at the cost of your weekday dinner together. A pity, but he knew you understood. Trudging up to his room he looked forward to perhaps a few hours of sleep before the next crisis struck. Then he found you.

He chuckles to himself quietly leaning against his door frame. You had beaten him to his favorite resting roost. You sat on his favorite armchair, rolled up tight in his comforter. All he could see was a tuft of hair and the very tip of your nose. Beautiful as always, but he wanted to rest. Well-two birds, one stone and all…

He scoops you up envious of how deeply you could slumber and places you on his lap. Kicking off his shoes he sighs blissfully before resting his head back on worn leather.

Mini fic

You didn’t expect to see Lucifer tonight. Today has been the absolute definition of a shit show, on nights like these it wasn’t uncommon for you not to see him at all. You would normally place your bets on him being unconscious at his desk. Though, he couldn’t really do that tonight. You pat yourself on the back mentally knowing that he would be pleased with the work you and the brothers did cleaning up his office. While you couldn’t get them to apologize to Lucifer you at least got them to clean up what was salvageable in his study.

After a few hours of cleaning his office was back in working order and your feet were screaming for a break. Bidding the two miscreants farewell and making them promise to hold off on the pranks for at least a week you let your body lead you to Lucifer’s room. The room was how you left it that morning. Your slippers next to his by the door and your robe tossed haphazardly on his linen sheets. You make a beeline for the only piece of furniture Lucifer loved dearly. How many nights had you snuck in only to see him melting into the old chain. His long legs sprawled out and tangled in his foot rest, while his body sinks into the imprints he has left from years of use like a lover's embrace.

Yanking the thin comforter from his bed you curl into the divots with a yawn. Before you know it your eyes close and the crackling of the fireplace lulls you to sleep. You awake with a jolt, confused and disoriented for a moment before your sleepy brain catches up. You fell asleep alone on the soft leather but woke to something unyielding beneath you now.

Lucifer sits underneath you snoring softly. His arms rest around your blanketed body. His head tilts down over you, his nose tickling your hairline. Like always he sports a mild look of annoyance. His lips were drawn in a scowl, brows crinkling in displease. You could tell his jaw was tense even while he slept.

Freeing your arms from your cocoon you reach up from him moving to cup his twitching jaw. With practiced ease you began to message the pin joints. You smile to yourself moving down to his tense neck and shoulders. This had become a nightly ritual for you when you shared a bed. When you knew he was asleep you would start trying to work away some of his tension from the previous day. You swear in the morning that he looks better on the nights you get the chance to.

This was your little secret though. You couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing you did this. Not that you thought he would disapprove. Lucifer appreciated acts of service, but just the thought of him knowing made your whole body heat in a flush. You push the thoughts away focusing instead on the extremely tight muscles underneath his brow line. It amazed you that he didn’t have any wrinkles after all this.

So engrossed in your perusal of his features you didn’t notice him stirring till his warm palm traps your hand to his cheek. Before you realize it his lips push a firm kiss into the flesh of your palm. Scarlet eyes meet yours crinkling around the edges. They were warm and radiant. “You’re blushing.” His voice was deep and husky from what little sleep he got.

“What?” You stammer.

Lucifer leans in tapping his forehead on yours. He studies your wide eyes and pink face for a moment before cracking a smug grin. “I’ve never seen you flustered before. Your blush looks good on you.”

“You caught me off guard.” He nods, kissing the tip of your nose tenderly taking impish glee in your squirming.

“Good-I will strive to do so more often. I wish to see you as undone as you make me.”

Mammon

Stoic MC? Rare pair? Rare pair. Mammon wears his heart on his sleeve. Nothing about him is slick. From week one everyone knew he had it bad for you. He is so open with his affections whether he likes it or not. Unlike you.

Honestly, how were you always so controlled. Ain’t the dame supposed to be all blushy and giggly too? It-it makes him think he isn’t doing something right. Is he not treating you right? Were you unhappy?

So he goes to do what he does best. Scheme. There has to be someway to crack that stoic disposition of yours. He gets clingy-well clingier now. He starts springing random vacations on you. Expect to skip class whenever he thinks he won’t get skinned alive for it.

He’ll take you anywhere all his internet research tells him to. Black sand beaches, crowded boardwalks to see the lights, deserted hiking trails late in the evening to watch the fireflies. He is sure it will work. But nope, nada. You love every moment of it and show him with a soul searing kiss and sweet words of praise. But damn you if you aren’t always so cool about it.

He is about to throw in the towel when he finally gets what he wants. At work no less. It was completely by accident but he isn’t one to complain. Perhaps he should go to work more often.

Mini Fic

“Pucker up!” Mammon’s make-up artist orders, squeezing his cheeks between her thumb and forefinger. “And for Diavolo’s sake put your phone down.”

“Shove off Cazzin.” Mammon sputters around the sour tasting lip stain and plumper. His eyes still glued to his screen. His freshly done nails swiping at picture after picture of fancy hotels and spas. Just thinking about taking you a private spring got his blood boiling in the best ways.

“Woooow.” Cazz whistles through her fangs looking at his screen. “Who is the lucky lady you are trying to impress this time?

“Mammon bristles, shooting her a murderous glance. The smaller demon blanches, purple skin turning ashy with fear. Her eyes drop to the floor immediately in submission, a sincere apology falling from her lips. “My girlfriend.” He says finally after cooling down. “I’m-I’m trying to impress her or something.”

“Well, pretty sure with a price tag like that anyone would be impressed.” Mammon only grunts barely glancing at the excessive amount of zeros on the page. Any other girl he knew would be a blushing mess after getting a gift like this. Hells, even Cazz was eyeing the site with open envy and excitement. Yet, this wasn’t the first time he had done something like this with you. Every time he did all he got was a blisteringly radiant smile and kisses that probably could send him back to heaven if he didn’t have a life long ban there. Not that that was a bad thing...but he just wanted more.

“You would think so…” He trails off clicking his phone off to focus on the rest of his routine. No sooner had his hair and make-up artist finished then his director was stomping and shouting down the hall for him to get his ass on set. Grimacing Mammon slides off his seat stretching to spare himself a few more seconds of peace. He stops at the door taking one last look at his get up for this shoot.

Damn, he looks good. It was time for a new spring collection, but more importantly, his most popular season. The light spring colors always brought out his best features. The pastel cotton shirt they “fashionably” threw him in hung casually around his frame. Buttons “tastefully” undone to show the smooth planes of his freely waxed and oiled skin. The linen board shorts and finishing touch of leather sandals gave him the perfect beach vibe. At top dollar mind you.

Hmmm-perhaps he could borrow this outfit for your next beach outing.

Unable to tone out his bosses shouting anymore Mammon makes his way to set. He thinks hard on what else he can go or take you to impress you, ignoring the poking and prodding of his camera men and set designers. His partners today, two incubus twins stood sourly next to him. They had been at this for hours and even he was ready for a break from the sweltering heat of the lights.

“Alright! Alright!” The director broke an hour later tired of the twins whining. He throws his hands in the air in exasperation. “We’ll break for an hour for lunch- lost the light as is.” He huffs stumping off for a smoke break.

“Finally,” Mammon sighs from his pose on the ground. “Think I got sand in my ass.” He gets up from the ground grimacing as he tries to brush the grit off his legs. “Shit starts to burn when they get hot.” One of the twins nods looking down at their own arms. Tiny burn marks showing on their fair skin, they will heal by the time the shoot resumes, doesn’t mean they will be happy about it.

“Want to grab lunch?” The twins ask tossing him a towel to blot at his sweating brow. “New food truck is coming in today.” Mammon shakes his head. You had packed him something to eat this morning and he kind of wanted to enjoy it in peace for once.

Waving the two off he hurries back to his room already salivating at whatever tasty food you got him. Halfway to the door he stops, the fine hairs on his neck standing up. Someone was in his dressing room. Devil’s please don’t let it be another rabid fan. He pleads before creeping forward to check. Whoever it was left the door ajar, peaking in he stares enraptured.

When did you get here? It wasn’t abnormal for you to just drop by while he was working, but you usually waited for him on set behind the cameras. You sit humming to yourself reading something on your lap, feet kicking out innocently while you wait for him. Flipping a page he gets a glimpse of what you’re reading. His feathers ruffle in satisfaction. He had plans on showing you these shots before their release date. They still needed approval from his director but he knew they were great. You flip through shot after shot humming or nodding at some. One shot makes you stop fully, eyes growing wide.

Mammon snorts to himself, knowing exactly which photo you stopped on. The next issue was focusing on “Elegance in the work space”, whatever that means. His designer for the projects went a little overboard with the cuts and designs of the business suites he was to model. The sketches and drafts she had thrust at him had made his head spin. They were all amazing in his opinion, but one had been killer, everyone had agreed on that. If he didn’t know any better he was certain that it would put him on the cover. By the way you were looking at it, he was hoping it would.

That suit really complimented all of his features. It was form fitting accenting his slim waist but hid the slight sloping of his shoulders. The gold of the threading of his vest was done up in soft floral patterns that popped against the dark navy blue of the suit's fabric. The dark blue really brought out the lightness of his eyes. The look was topped off with a bright yellow silk pocket square, polished leather wingtips and gold cufflinks. He was about to interrupt you when he saw it, that one thing he wanted more than anything.

The pink starts at your ears swiping across the bridge of your nose before blooming on your round cheeks. It was breathtaking. Thinking he was being sneaky, Mammon whips out his phone for a quick picture, no one would believe him unless he had solid evidence. But the flash gives him away.

“Mammon!” You jump caught, hands flying to cover your warm face.

“Oi! None of that!” Mammon moves quickly snatching your hands away from your face beaming. “I’ve been waiting for ages to see this face on ya, an’ all it took was a picture of me?”

“You- you clean up really nicely, Mammon.” His hearts flutter at your soft admission.

“Huh,” Mammon scratches his neck, feeling his own blush coming forth. “Well- I mean I could do that more often, so long as you keep looking at me like this when I do.” He picks up the stack of photos from the floor where you dropped them in surprise. “Ya know- I still got that suit.”

Your face turns molten- oh he was going to have a field day with this.

Beelzebub

Doesn’t even notice at first. He is kind of the same way with expressing himself too- unless food is involved. So if you are content then he is content, so who cares if you don’t show it on your face?

Well- he didn’t care, until Belphie brought it up. His twin didn’t mean anything by it; he knew that, but it made him wonder. He trusts you when you say you are happy, you have no reason to lie to him. But date nights, game nights, and family dinners you were always so impassive.

It makes him wonder, not enough to ask you though. Truthfully, he is a little embarrassed that he can’t read you as you do him. He won’t force it like his brothers might. He is patient and hopes one day it will just come naturally like it does for him around you.

Mini Fic

Beel watches you over his lunch. You two were silent as you ate, but that was to be expected on days like these. The school cafe was packed with students all jockeying to get a place in line for today’s special. He had gotten there early for the both of you to gap a few of the specials and sides before they were gone. “Are you ok?” He puts his fork down leaning in close to speak to you across the small table. It creaks dangerously under the weight of his elbows on it. You look up from your tea mug. He smiles at your perpetually mild expression, your eyes were hard but your lips and brows were relaxed giving away nothing.

“Of course.” You smile up at him, face smooth and controlled. “Just excited about tonight.”

Hmph, could have fooled him. Beel leans back, studying you intently. He hopes you were as excited as he was for tonight. A new arcade had opened on the edge of town last week and he thought it would be a great date night for the two of you. He had expressed to you on several occasions how he was looking forward to the roller rink and the hoop games. You seemed eager, giving him a closed lip grin every time he brought it up. “Me too.” Beel says finally turning back to his food. “Think we will win any prizes?”

You snort dismissively. “Us? The dream team? I would be surprised if we didn’t win something. Have you seen the plushies?” You pull out your phone and show him their Devilgram. “I want to try and get the hydra one…” You prattle on and scroll through all the cute prizes on their site. He nods along taking a mental note of all the ones that you pointed at, determined to get each and every one for you.

School goes by quickly, far too quickly for him. Each tick of the clock caught him by surprise, jacking his nerves up more and more. It wasn’t like it was his first date with you, but it never stopped the butterflies from starting in his stomach. After school he changes quickly and waits for you by your bedroom door. He fiddles with the zipper of his jacket until you finally open your door.

“Ready?” The smile you throw up at him is breathtaking. “Hope you don’t mind my get up. You mentioned a roller ring so I figured something sporty and functional would be appropriate.” You kick out a leg waving a hand over your bright sport leggings.

Beel chuckles offering you his large hand. “You look adorable as always.”

Being with you was as easy as breathing to him now. After all your time together in the house getting to know you you became one of his closest friends, even before you started dating. You shared many of his interests and wasn’t afraid to argue your point if you saw fit. You fill the train ride to the arcade with idle chatter, goofy selfies to send to his siblings, and annoying the other passengers with your ill-contained chuckles.

The place itself was packed but well spread out to handle the massive throngs of demons and beasts coming for drinks and a good time. “Come on!” You shout over the other very drunk and very loud customers tugging at his sleeve. “Let’s get some coins and find an empty station.” He lets you lead. You take full advantage of his impressive frame to part the crowds around you as you hunt for a free spot. “See anything?”

Beel peers over the heads of most of the demons and looks out. In the far corner sat a few jump rope games that were free. “Stay close.” He murmurs in your ear wrapping a protective arm your shoulders so you wouldn’t be swept away in the flow of the crowd. The games were...hard. Mentally Beel kicks himself. Of course an arcade in the Devildom wouldn’t be geared for humans. They were built for demons' fast reflexes and inhuman strength. You were a good sport about it though, cheering him on when the games began to move too fast for your senses. If a game broke in his zeal to get you tickets, well you were both fast walkers.

“Think we have enough?” Beelzebub asks hours later around a popsicle. His jacket pockets bulge with multicolored tickets screaming to be spent.

You hum around a scoop of ice cream. “Possibly-” Your eyes flick to the prize booth. “And extra, you want a plushie too?” He shrugs. No doubt the moment it got into his room Belphie will steal it to add to his horde.

You end up getting your stuffed hydra and a giant fuzzy minotaur to keep it “company”. You clutch them close to your chest, seemingly happy with your bounties. After that you spend a bit at the roller ring before you finally had to call it a night. Exhausted you lag behind Beel as you make your way back to the train station, feet dragging with each step.

Wordlessly, Beel stops just in front of you. “Here,” He squats, offering you his back, arms stretched out behind him. “I can take us the rest of the way to the stop.” He feels you hesitate for a moment before climbing on to his back.

“Thank you.” He thinks nothing of how soft your voice was, just barely a tickle at the base of his neck. Beel treks one once you are secure, stuffing his hands in his pockets to lock you in place. The rest of the walk was quiet but he didn’t mind it, your warm body and soft breathing in his ear was a comfort.

He stops at the benches with a few minutes to spare before your train. “We are here. Do you want-” He gasps quietly, cutting himself off before he could accidentally wake you. You sleep on unperturbed by his voice. Your hold on around his neck was tight, your head buried in his neck.

It seems only when you're sleeping do you let your guard down. A blush sweeps across your face, your lips pulled up into a serene smile. You looked-happy. Happy in a way he never saw before. He won’t say anything about it, he decides. He’ll cherish this tiny expression all the same. Perhaps one day he’ll see when you're awake too.

#Request #om beelzebub #om lucifer #om mammon #im slowly cranking them out!!!#obey me shall we date

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