#and when this started i could at least be guaranteed that the night after an all-nighter . i would sleep

[july-19th-club]

hate when i'm having insomnia and i cant point to the exact reason . which to be fair is a problem i have elsewhere but i want to be able to pin down a specific thing i did and go welp won't do that again and then the problem would stop . but instead i do everything 'right' according to what has worked perfectly every single night for a month . and then it doesn't work for some bullshit reason .

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞.

Synopsis: What I think Alastors wife would be like, if he had one of course.

Warnings: mentions of blood, pinning, harassment?, Alastor being himself, not in a specific time period but at some point shifts to hell? Let me know if anyone is interested in a part two!!

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity Writes (event)

Alastors wife probably didnt like him at first, and that’s a guarantee. He likes a challenge, but Alastor also likes being liked by people. It fills his ego, makes him feel good about himself. He likes to watch people stumble and fall but quite literally cracks under the pressure of doing just that when it comes to winning you over. Chances were he was constantly trying to figure you out, for two reasons. One, being that he didn’t understand how you couldn’t like him. I mean come on, look at him! He’s got the charm, the manners, the style and the class, the status. What more could you want? The second reason being, the more you denied him, the more he took it as a challenge, the more he wanted you.

Well, surprise surprise, you dont like people with an image to keep up; and to his dismay, that’s exactly what he does. He projects an image. One he refuses to change, and even after marrying you, still doesn’t drop the image, but starts to become more real and honest with himself.

“People who project an image of themselves to others are just trying to fool themselves into being someone they aren’t.” Was what you told him.

Alastor had also asked you out multiple times before you finally said yes. Everyone knows Alastor is very picky with the people he chooses to surround himself with. Everyone he associates with is either there to serve him, or to provide him with something, even if they’re unaware of it. Which only made you trust him less. What purpose did you serve him? What if one day he found you no longer useful and tossed you to the side? Well what were you to do then?

Denying him proved to be a challenge in itself, seeing that he’s quite literally everywhere all at once.

He’d try cheap tricks first. Buying you gifts, constantly showing up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers or a stuffed animal. One time he even got you a whole gift basket of your favorite treats. How sweet~ if it was actually about you and not him just trying to patch up his ego. Well at least that was what you thought on the matter.

If that didnt work he’d resort to going ghost. After all, people only miss you when you’re gone right? Well not in this case. He had left you alone physically, at least to your knowledge, but he had still kept a close watch on you. Why, he just knew it would bother you that he suddenly stopped! Until he overheard you speaking with a friend about how happy you were to finally get some peace and quiet. Well that simply wouldn’t do. After all, you should always make an impact, and what kind of impact would he be leaving on you if you went back to your old boring life? No no that just wont do dear.

He’ll start showing back up at your doorstep, taking you on surprise outing to force you to spend time with him. He’ll take you on a walk around a nearby park, a restaurant one day, the picture show the next. He has a long list of places to take you, so you’ll never go to the same place twice! Get your dancing shoes because he’s gonna take you out to the town for the night, after all the city never sleeps! This is when he becomes less forceful, but more of a decent calm. He begins to listen more when you speak, and you actually begin to care about what he’s saying, what a shock!

It’s almost like a switch flips after your outings. He’ll take you to an orchestra show, snickering to himself when he sees your eyes begin to water as the show closes out. He’ll force you to hold onto his arm as he walks you across the street on a rainy night, making sure you don’t slip or trip on the wet pavement. If you ever do, he’ll try his best to catch you and if he doesn’t? Oh what a nightmare, it seems he’s fallen too! For you that is~

You two begin to feel closer, not only physically but emotionally. He gets you to open up about your personal struggles, and in turn, he’ll share some of his own, but not too much. He doesn’t allow himself to be fully and completely vulnerable with you, not yet. But he does try his best to sympathize with you when you share your piece of mind with him. He feels accomplished to know this part of you, and his ego is the last thing on his mind anymore, but instead you take up all the space.

He doesn’t use pet names for you, not cute ones anyway. He’ll call you his devilish belladonna, especially if you love flowers. His creepy spider Lillie. He’ll often speak in the ‘language of flowers’, and will educate you on it if you don’t know so you know exactly what he’s talking about.

He’s the type of person to correct people in public to make them feel stupid, but he never does that with you. Instead he’ll wait until it’s just the two of you and tell you jokingly how wrong you were. You’ll get upset because he let you look like a fool, but in his mind he’s just protecting your feelings. If anyone else corrects you, they’ll have their mouth sewn shut that’s for sure!

He never gets you the same bouquet of flowers. They’re always different, and every week or so you have a new one. He keeps a separate batch for himself so he knows when to get you another. That being said he also makes the bouquets himself, he does not buy them for you already made.

When you finally take Alastor up on his offer to court you properly, he is over the moon about it! Finally, you seem to be coming to your senses dear! Though you quickly follow that comment up with a “Let the blood rush to your head first.” He just bats his lashes at you with a smile. You always know how to make him feel so loved!

Gets very jealous very easily. If he sees you laughing with someone that isn’t him, he’ll size them up before deciding if they’re a threat or not. Heaven forbid anyone actually put their hands on you and uh oh! Limb of the floor someone come get it!

His possessive nature is rooted in abandonment, and thus being said, he has deep attachment issues to you. You are never out of his sight when you two begin dating, and you’re hardly ever far from him in general. You two dress similarly too, especially if you’re from the same era. He’ll switch up your wardrobe slowly so it complements his.

He isn’t one for strong PDA unless he feels like he needs too or just has a strong want too. Usually it’s an arm around your waist, or you hanging onto his arm loosely. The most he’ll ever really do is a kiss on the back of your hand or to your temple. That being said, he’s like this for various reasons.

One, he has a lot of enemies, which means that not not only does that put you in danger, but if you’re also a powerful overlord, it puts him at risk too, though he doesn’t care much about that part.

Second, he doesn’t like physical contact much, and though he always makes an exception for you, he has his image and pristine reputation to keep up. Which you extremely dislike but tolerate because it’s Alastor and if he hasn’t changed much in centuries, nothings going to change ever.

Alastor is very very fond of you, whether you believe it or not. Your fiery attitude has him whipped more than he likes to admit. He’ll joke with other sinners that he’d sacrifice you to save himself but you both know that isn’t true, his nervous ticks prove it to be false, if you do say so yourself.

He’s very fidgety. He’ll tug a piece of your clothing or twirl a strand of your hair between his claws. If you claim he’s messing up your hair he’ll cast a tornado of shadows around you to fuck it up even more, and then smiling at you lovingly when you threaten to cut his ears off because you can’t tell if they’re his hair or just furry ass ears. You always give him a good laugh.

Other sinners are actually convinced you both hate each other, but turf wars on the news show that you two are the most in love when you’re wreaking havoc on innocent sinners for no possible reason other than the fact you two had an argument and the best way to settle it? Dancing in the rain, which actually isn’t rain, just blood falling from the sky because you like to kill people for fun.

“My darling looks the best in red if I do say so myself! Especially if she’s dressed by another’s remains, oh the beauty!”

Alastor has and will continue to get in his feelings about you and his mother getting along so well. He loves you both to pieces, so seeing his two favorite people together makes his dead heart swell with joy.

He’ll ask you to accompany him to the tailors, he values your opinion more than others so you often make adjustments to his suit and he’s just like ‘Whatever she says that’s what’s going on the suit.’ You also make him your personal dressing doll, trying different patterns and styles on him for fun. Alastor is a true skinny jeans hater and he will die on that hill, again. He really appreciates the 60’s style, but prefers to stick to his own decade.

He will take you out hunting with him, and the two of you share breakfast together with the fresh meat you’ve caught. He only gets the best quality for you because he refuses to have you two ‘eating like chums’. A restaurant tried to lie to the two of you, saying their meat was high quality and fresh. Alastor killed everyone in it and you two shared remains like a true power couple. Hells finest of course. ;)

He’s very critical of picking out jewelry for you. Hunting for the perfect ring for you took him ages, mainly because he knew exactly what he wanted but no jeweler had what he wanted all in one ring. So instead he forces them to make him a custom one. Torn limbs and bloody parts later, you have the ring that Alastor worked so hard to give you. He proposes to you Extermination day, claiming he’d love to spend another year in hell with you before the angels come to rip you two apart from each other. It was such a sweet day, at least to you it was.

The type of relationship where he plays the piano and you sing. He loves when you sing and will gush about you to anyone in sight even if he doesn’t know them.

Is very needy in private. He’s a stage 10000 clinger, and will stick to you like his life depends on it, but will be damned if anyone catches him. You don’t tell anyone about it, you like the private life.

You two have cook offs all the time. You make the hotel staff judge, and ultimately Niffty is the tie breaker because she’s brutally honest. Once she told Alastor he should stay out of the kitchen because women were better at it for a reason… harsh!

He was fine though, he got her back by ridding the hotel of bugs. He knows she likes chasing them around and for that she sobbed at his feet for ten minutes asking him to bring them back. It didn’t take much actually, Sir Pentious brought them back on his own, much to Charlies dismay.

He loves to read with you. You two often read a book and once you both finish you have a tea session over it. It starts off being about the book and then somehow shifts to just gossiping and talking shit about the other overlords, except for Rosie, we love Rosie in this household.

Speaking of, Rosie is usually where you get your clothes from. She’s a sweetheart when she isn’t picking pieces of muscle from her teeth, that sharp smile is a killer! She loves to talk about Alastor with you, and usually she’s where you go after you two have had an argument. You’re also her personal Barbie doll. She puts you in outfits and she and Alastor judge over them. Nine times out of ten you leave her boutique with a new wardrobe every time.

Now let’s talk about Vox.

Honestly the whole reason Vox knows about you is probably because he was digging through Alastors shit. But when he sees you? Oh lord, this man is HOOKED.

He doesn’t even know how Alastor managed to get you entangled with him. He finds out about you when you and Alastor aren’t dating yet, and he basically jumps at his chance to try to be with you.

Vox will forever consider you the one that got away, you can’t change my mind.

Alastor has proven time and time again that he’s basically better than Vox. He took a seven year back, came on the radio one day and boom all his viewers were back. In Alastors mind there’s no competition, just Vox being obsessed with the fact Alastor said no.

Valentino uses it against Vox all the time, and it will always make Vox buffer.

[clockmax]

! STICKY

>> jjk kink hc's

FT!  gojo, geto, nanami, toji

! warnings 18+CONTENT, MDNI. , not proofread, fem reader, pure filth, breeding kink, mating press, overstimulation, switch!gojo(?), fingering, p in v, raw sex(wrap it b4 u tap it tho!), riding, oral, praise, oral

~ A/N: re-uploading this from my old blog LOL idk requests r open and make sure to take care of urself ily ཐི♡ཋྀ  likes + reblogs + comments r always appreciated!

𓇼 NANAMI

I think as a fandom we all agree Nanami is a family man. He’s got a steady and stable relationship with you, so who better to have his kids then you?

I like to think he got baby fever after he saw you holding your niece for the first time ,just falling in love with how sweetly you spoke to the baby, how gentle you looked, like a natural mother.

It for sure got his cock in a stir.

Thoughts of you round with his kid filled his head, thinking of you taking care of the little bundle of joy almost had him bend you over in the nearest room.

Guaranteed for the next few weeks(at least) he’d have you bent over, pumping you full of his cum. He’d hold your legs close to your ears, putting you in a mating press while his cock pumps you full.

Nanami would just keep stuffing you full over and over again, overstimulating himself just to get you pregnant. Fucking you until you’re nearly cross-eyed from just how many orgasms he;s pulled from your sore, stuffed pussy.

Nanami who would keep fucking you sore every night until he sees  a positive pregnancy test. And even with that, he’d fuck another one into you as soon as he can <3

𓇼 GOJO

Whether he’s being overstimulated, or overstimulating you, this man loves it.(he’s a whore.)

With you, he loves seeing the fucked out expression on your face and he pulls out your nth orgasm, watching how you writhe and shudder as his fingers delicately work you open. Or when he’s fucking you raw with his cock, mushroomy tip hitting that spongy spots that makes your toes curl. He makes it his goal to cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about coming himself.

But it also goes the same way when you overstimulate him. Could be from riding him, sucking him off, or just even a simple handjob. I like to believe he’s got a sensitive tip, so it’s  easy to overstimulate him. And for a fact, he loves it.

He’s a whimpering, moaner, and groaner 4 sure. So you’ll know he’s come enough time when he starts getting more vocal than he already is. Or when his hips rut into your mouth or hand, or  just straight up holding your hips while he ruts up into you. 

He’ll keep both of you overstimulated until you give out, or he’s practically ‘shooting blanks’

𓇼GETO

Geto in my heart will forever be a soft lover. He could fuck rough, sure, but i like to think a majority of the time he treats you very sweetly(unless you’ve been a brat but thats a diff talk)

He just loves to fuck you, even if he’s fucked you so dumbed that its gone in one ear and out the other. Something about the sparkle in your eyes when he coos sweet words at you just gets him going even more.

“Open your legs, baby, ‘wanna see that pretty pussy.” He’d coax at you, leaving wet, open kisses along your thighs. 

“That’s it, good girl, always listening to me.” Geto praised. He’d always take his time with his fingers, mouth, or cock. 

He’d talk you through it, praising how well you’re doing, how pretty you look with that look of ecstasy on your face. He’s just smitten with you, and it will always show when hes got you in his hands.

𓇼 TOJI

Toji’s a sucker for oral. I will not be fought on this

He seems like he would enjoy receiving oral and giving it just as equally. But when i tell you he’d fuck your mouth, i mean it.

He’s the type to hold your hair in a pigtail, gliding your mouth along his cock; just the way he likes it. His ears suck up all the lovely gasps and gags you make, the small moans and whimpers. He’d love watching as you try to circle your clit and suck him off at the same time, watching as you try to find something to rub your dripping wet pussy against.

When he’s giving oral, he might just be enjoying it more than you. He’d have a wole feast down there, spelling his name on your clit, sucking your juices; there's really no stopping him and his meal. 

He just can’t get enough of the way your thighs squeeze around his head, or how your hands pull at his hair, bumping your clit up against his nose.

He thinks you look equally as pretty on your knees between his manspread, face buried in his happy trail as you suck at his cock.

Suguru Geto who loves just how shy you get whenever her teases or flirts with you. Whether it be the gentle grab of your ass in that skirt, or the way he whispers filthy words into your ears even if there's people around.

Suguru Geto who makes sure to kiss your neck and leave hickies, provoking those sweet, sweet whines and begs for him that fall from your pretty lips. 

Suguru Geto who buries himself between your thighs, arms locked around the fat of your thigs, tongue working onto your clit as if it was his last meal. His eyes stay on your face the entire time, pulling his mouth away if you dare to look away from him.

“Look at me baby, wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Suguru Geto who can say the most filthy things about you with a straight face, with the taste of your juices on his lips after making you cum 3 times. He loves the look of pure euphoria on your half lidded eyes.

Suguru Geto who still teases you when he stuffs your cunt full of his thick cock. It’s sinful with his hands roam around your body, leaving marks on your hips, and playing around with your tits. His eyes watch those lustful expressions on your face as his dick slides in and out of you, hitting all those sweet spots from the curve of his cock.

Suguru Geto who has you keep your eyes on him as he drills your overstimulated pussy, pelvis bumping on your swollen clit. 

“That's it, good girl. Looking so pretty taking this cock, cunt’s practically talking to me.”  He’d whisper in your ear, gently kissing the trace of your jawline, feeling just how hot your face was.

Suguru Geto who loves the fucked out look on your face as he makes you cum for the nth time. Hazel eyes watching how your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, body trying to squirm away as you squirt on him again.

Suguru Geto who cums in you over and over again, the lewd look on your face nearly imprinted in his mind. He knows just how much you love feeling the warm, hot, sticky ropes of cum paint your gummy walls.

“Spread your legs baby, that's it.. Wider. Good girl.” 

Suguru Geto who loves watching the cum drip from your cunt, mixed in with your juices. Sometimes he’ll go back to eat you out after he’s came inside you.

Suguru Geto who loves to tease you, get you all flustered and worked up just to fuck you dumb minutes later.

[punkshort]

Something Unexpected

Thank you @pasc4lfuzz for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: It's been ten years since you lived in Texas, and of course the first week back, you run into a familiar face from your past.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, mention of OC death (reader's father), romcom vibes (bc of course), meet cute, shy!joel, flirting, sexual tension, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex (reader on BC), sex in public

WC: 4.8K

Dirty Bill's bar was exactly as you remembered.

As the name implied, the place wasn't the cleanest. Even after Bill locked up for the night, your shoes used to stick to the floors and it was almost a guarantee to find a stray lemon or lime somewhere on the bar top.

His definition of clean never matched yours. Hell, it didn't match anyone's, but that didn't stop locals from frequenting the place regularly.

It had been years since you lived in Austin and worked at the bar. At least ten, maybe more. When you tended bar, you actually kept the place relatively clean, but you knew the second you walked in that Bill clearly went back to his old ways once you quit and moved.

To his credit, the place was still packed. You had to stand up on your tiptoes and crane your neck to find your oldest friend, Leah, sitting at the bar nursing a gin and tonic. You grinned and pushed your way through the crowd, doing a double take when you recognized a few poor souls from your bartending days drinking the same bottles of beer.

Some things really never do change.

"Leah!" you cried out excitedly as you approached. She swiveled around on her barstool with a huge grin when she heard your voice. Jumping down, you enveloped her in a huge hug, swaying her back and forth and holding each other as tight as you could. She looked a little older and she gained a bit of weight since she had her kids, but otherwise she was the same. Same bright blue eyes, same wavy blonde hair, same toothy smile.

"Oh, my god! I can't believe it's really you!" she exclaimed, leaning back but still gripping your shoulders so she could get a good look at you. "You look amazing," she added before dropping her hands.

"I was about to say the same to you," you said before sliding onto the barstool next to hers. She scoffed and shook her head.

"Don't bullshit me. After I had Aiden I was never able to lose the extra weight."

"I'm not bullshitting you," you laughed. "You were always too skinny before, I told you that tons of times. You look incredible. I mean it."

She blushed and waved you off. "What're you drinking? They have some specials til nine, that's when the fireworks are supposed to start, but sadly that's also when I'll have to leave," she said with a pout. "Babysitter's got plans. Can you believe the audacity? A twenty year old daring to make plans on the Fourth of July?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. You laughed and took the stained piece of paper she held out for you.

"I can't believe he's doing specials now," you told her while you perused the menu.

"It ain't anything earth shattering. Bud's a buck cheaper and well drinks are two bucks each."

"And here I thought he dreamed up a cocktail menu," you replied with another laugh.

"Oh, honey, you know Bill won't even buy a goddamn blender for daiquiris."

It had been ten years since you left Texas and saw Leah, but just the way good friends do, you fell right back into each other without skipping a beat. Although the topics of conversation that had once centered around boys now focused on her children and work, you still found her so easy to talk to.

"And what about you? Now that you're back, what's the plan for work?"

You winced when you tossed back the rest of your drink and shook your head. "Don't know yet. I gotta get my head around going through all of dad's things and trying to sell that house. Hell, maybe Bill will hire me again," you joked.

"I know you're just kidding but he would in a heartbeat," Leah said before clearing her throat and taking on a more somber tone. "How're you holding up? Dealing with your dad passing 'n everything?"

You shrugged and smiled at the cute bartender who gave you both refills without having to ask. "I'm alright. It was a long time coming, he was sick for so long. I'm just glad he's not in pain anymore, but I miss him. This whole town just reminds me so much of him, you know?" you said, furrowing your brow while you watched your ice swirl in your glass. She nodded sympathetically and put a gentle hand on your arm. "It's so weird being back here now without him. Like I keep waiting for him to walk through the front door. It's why I can't keep the place. Too many memories, it's messing with my head," you said with a dry laugh before taking a sip of your drink.

"I get that. I can come by this weekend and help you for a few hours if you like," she said. You smiled at her and tilted your head to the side, overcome for a moment at how generous she was, knowing full well she had enough to deal with at home.

"Thanks, Leah. I'll let you know."

After another hour, the cute bartender cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone and announced last call for drink specials. Leah's face fell and she pushed off the bar with a sigh.

"Guess I oughta get going."

Sadness rippled through your chest at the thought of being alone again, but you tried not to let her see it. She had a family to go home to, a life.

"Thanks again for meeting me, I know it's hard for you and your schedule is so busy now," you said, giving her a hug.

She opened her mouth to reply when the cute bartender you had been eyeing up all evening put a drink in front of you.

"Oh, sorry, thanks, but I'm just about to leave," you told him. He wiped his hands on a towel and tipped his head to the side.

"It's on him."

Your gaze followed the direction in which his head tilted and you could hardly believe your eyes.

"Oh, boy," Leah muttered under her breath.

The man on the other side of the bar lifted his beer bottle to you before stepping away into the crowd. You could see his greying curls making their way through the throngs of people fighting to get one or two more cheap drinks and you felt anger slowly bubbling to the surface.

"Play nice," Leah warned you. You clenched your teeth and shook your head.

"I'm always nice."

She chuckled and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "Call me about this weekend."

"Yeah, okay," you replied distractedly, your heart thudding faster in your chest when the familiar looking man stepped through the crowd and sidled up next to you at the same time Leah disappeared, heading towards the door.

"Hey, darlin'. Hope you don't mind me buyin' you a drink," he said, his southern drawl thicker and slower than you remembered. "I'm Joel," he added, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

You stared at it too long, the alcohol buzzing through your veins and slowing down your train of thought.

"Yeah, I know who you are, Joel," you replied, ignoring his hand to glare up at him. "Do you really not recognize me?"

He swallowed and let his hand fall limp as he scanned your face, the gears in his head working overtime to try and place you, and the fact he didn't remember you hurt your feelings more than you expected.

"I, uh..." he trailed off and scratched his chin nervously. You rolled your eyes and leaned against the bar.

"I used to date your brother. For like, eight fucking months in high school. He stood me up for prom?" you reminded him, your tone turning icy. The realization clicked and his face softened when he quietly murmured your name.

"Oh, shit. Sorry, I didn't... thought you moved outta town."

"I did," you snapped. "I'm back now. Just got here last week."

He nodded and shifted his jaw to the side. It was like you could see the wave wash over him in real time: his memory recalling images of you in his mother's house, probably remembering stories Tommy told him when you weren't around, and finally, the uneasiness settled in when it dawned on him his brother could find out he made a move on his ex girlfriend.

But much to your surprise, Joel didn't come up with some feeble excuse and run off. In fact, he took Leah's abandoned stool and put his beer next to your untouched drink.

"Tommy was an asshole to you, wasn't he?" he asked. And even though it was ages ago, you could feel that wound in your chest slowly begin to open back up.

You shook your head and looked down at your hands.

"He embarrassed me. Dated me the entire school year, went to football games and every single house party together just to bring Jill fucking Parker to prom." You angrily took a long drink from your glass before setting it down a little too loudly on the bar. "Didn't even break up with me. Just... pretended like I didn't exist. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? I showed up an hour late, my hair and makeup all goddamn perfect, just to walk into the gym and see him dancing with her. Kissing her. Fucking dick," you muttered, raking your fingers through your hair.

Joel listened quietly, a sympathetic look on his face while you continued.

"I couldn't stay there. I turned right around and walked home. Cried the whole fucking night in some stupid fucking dress that matched his stupid fucking boutonniere."

Joel winced and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I - I remember some of that but I was too wrapped up in my own shit back then. Had one foot out my parents' door, had a girlfriend and was gettin' started in construction. I remember you at some family dinners but... I don't know, I'm real sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to ruin your night."

You sighed and rolled your shoulders. "You didn't, it's fine. It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but it still hurts you. I can see it," he replied, his soft brown eyes boring into you.

"It shouldn't. I just haven't thought about all that in forever and so far, being back here is only bringing up shitty memories," you said sadly, stirring your drink absentmindedly.

Joel glanced around the bar, noticing it was beginning to clear as patrons filed out to the parking lot to get a good spot for the fireworks show about start in the town park down the street.

"C'mon," he said, abandoning his beer and taking your hand before sliding off the stool. "Let's go make a good memory. Fireworks are 'bout to start."

Your eyelids fluttered in surprise, first at the way he was holding your hand, and second at his proposition.

"Oh, we don't have to. I was going to head home, anyway," you told him. He was nicer than you expected about the whole situation, but it was bordering on pity, and that was something you certainly were not interested in.

"I ain't gonna keep you from leavin', but I could sure use the company," he said, still holding your hand. You chewed your bottom lip as you silently weighed your options. He smiled softly and gave your hand a little tug when he saw your resolve crumbling. "C'mon. I don't wanna watch fireworks alone."

You rolled your eyes and fought back the stupid smile from spreading across your face. "Alright, why not?" you said, hopping off your stool. You allowed him to drag you by the hand through the crowds of people mingling in the parking lot, through clouds of cigarette smoke and boisterous laughter until you reached his truck parked at the very corner of the lot.

Joel dropped your hand so he could unhook the tailgate, then jumped up with a grunt to unfold the pile of blankets he had shoved in the far corner. You took a few steps forward and watched curiously as he fluffed up two pillows, and you wondered if this was some kind of move he often pulled on girls.

"You came prepared," you said, trying to subtly test your theory. He glanced over his shoulder with a grin.

"Got stood up tonight," he replied, and the irony of it was too much. You burst out laughing, clapping your palm over your mouth.

"I'm sorry, it's just... what are the odds?"

He chuckled and, once he was satisfied with the blanket arrangement, extended an arm out to you.

"It was a blind date. Wasn't nearly as bad as bein' stood up for prom, but still stung a bit," he admitted. He clasped your hand in his and pulled you up into the bed of his truck with so much strength, you nearly fell against his chest.

"Oops, sorry," you said shyly when you had caught yourself from falling into his lap just in time. He just gave you another smile that was beginning to make your knees weak and leaned back into the bed of the truck. He readjusted his head on one of the pillows, one arm tucking behind his head with a sigh, and gazed up at the sky.

You looked around nervously, unsure what to do. The setting was a little too intimate to be in with your ex's brother, but no one else was around. The closest car with people in it was fifty yards away. And besides, if someone were to report back to Tommy, they would have already seen you together in the bar.

"So, why'd you move back?" Joel asked, his voice so much deeper now that you weren't surrounded by classic rock and loud conversations. You tucked your legs underneath you and looked down at him all stretched out. His shirt was riding up just an inch, exposing a sliver of tanned skin and a trail of dark curls leading past his waistband. You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to look away.

"Um, my dad died," you told him. His brows pinched together, giving you that look of pity that you had grown too familiar with.

"I'm sorry," he said, and you could tell he meant it.

"Thanks. He was sick for a long time," you explained, trying to downplay it, but he shook his head.

"Don't matter. Losin' a parent ain't ever easy."

You pursed your lips and nodded, staring down at your fingers twisting together in your lap.

"Suppose that's true."

He allowed you to sit quietly for a moment while you gathered your thoughts, waiting to see if you wanted to talk about it more or let it be.

"A blind date, huh?" you asked him, changing the subject.

"Yep. Blind date," he repeated, eyes flickering briefly down your body. "Don't wanna use no apps or shit. Thought it might be easier to do things the old fashioned way. Guess I was wrong."

"I know what you mean," you said. "It feels like it's impossible to meet anyone organically anymore."

He hummed and took a deep breath. "Like buyin' a girl a drink in a bar?"

You giggled and he grinned, the sound of your laugh sending a rush of adrenaline through his veins.

"Yes, but we already met before," you reminded him.

He nodded, smile still playing at his lips. "You use a lot of them apps?"

You felt your cheeks warm and shrugged. "Not really. I have used them, but not lately."

He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to ignore the nervous flutter in his chest when he asked, "That 'cause you got a boyfriend now, or..."

You laughed again and his nerves immediately calmed at the sound.

"No. No boyfriend."

He felt his hands shake while he struggled to come up with the right thing to say or do next when fate intervened and gave him the perfect answer.

A loud boom echoed from behind you and you jumped in surprise, then grinned when you tilted your chin up to see the fireworks had started. Joel cleared his throat, pulling your attention onto him.

"Gonna pull a muscle in your neck if you keep that up for the next half hour," he said, then patted the empty area next to him. You smiled shyly and it made his stomach flip.

"You're pretty smooth, Joel Miller," you teased before sliding down onto your back next to him so you could look up at the dark sky all lit up above you.

He tapped his chest nervously with the tips of his fingers, hardly paying attention to the fireworks now that you were so close that he could feel the heat from your soft skin and smell the scent of your shampoo burrowing its way into his blankets.

Unsure how to make the next move, he chose to go with a classic. He figured at the very least, you might laugh again.

"Why don't you get closer, darlin'? You look cold."

Sure enough, you did laugh, making his heart soar but to his shock, you also inched closer to him. Nestling into his side, you gently placed one of your hands on his stomach, but he could tell it made you nervous because your shoulders felt stiff and your breath was shallow.

"Is this okay?" he murmured after he wrapped an arm around you, his fingers brushing delicately over your arm.

"Mhmm," you said, feeling your skin prickle under his touch. He felt it, too, and pulled a blanket over you both.

How the hell did you end up in the back of your ex boyfriend's brother's truck, cuddled up under blankets and watching the fireworks? When you were getting ready earlier, your only hope was to find some distraction with an old friend for a couple hours. Whatever this was was a complete and pleasant surprise.

Both of you watched as your hand slowly crept up from his stomach to his chest, your hearts beating fast with anticipation. You tilted your chin up to look at him, those deep brown eyes meeting yours and in that moment, an unspoken understanding passed between you.

You met each other half way at the exact same time, pressing your lips together tentatively at first, then with more desperation. He tasted like stale beer but you loved it. It felt comforting. He was so warm and strong under your touch, his hand so big when it came to rest on the side of your face as he plunged his tongue greedily into your mouth for the first time. Somewhere in the back of your mind you realized what you were doing was probably wrong, that it could very well cause a problem between him and Tommy, but he was a grown man who knew exactly what he was doing when he took your hand in that bar.

You weren't exactly sure how it escalated, but it did. He rolled on top of you, pinning you with his weight while one hand skirted up your side, squeezing your breast before tugging the cup of your bra down underneath your shirt and rolling your nipple between two expert fingers. You moaned into his mouth and arched your back, pressing yourself into him.

"Joel," you whispered when his mouth trailed down your neck and his hips began to rut against yours.

"I know, 'm sorry," he panted, yet he didn't make a move to stop. "This probably ain't a good idea," he added, but just tilted his head so he could suck on the other side of your neck.

You bit your lip and tipped your head back, giving him better access.

"Probably not," you agreed when your hands found his belt. His lips stuttered against your throat when you deftly undid the leather and popped the button on his jeans.

"Shit," you whispered when his hand slid down the front of your shorts, his fingers petting at your sex through your panties.

"You want this, baby?" he asked, nipping at your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, the fireworks in the sky matching the ones behind your eyelids.

"Say it," he commanded, voice dropping an octave and sending a shiver down your spine.

"I want it," you breathed before palming his erection through his jeans. He groaned and pressed himself further into your hand, encouraging you to rub his cock through the thick denim, your mind spiraling at how hard he was already.

He undid your shorts in record time, helping you shimmy out of them as quickly as possible, each of you panting for air, the excitement overwhelming.

"Joel, what if - shit," you cursed when he yanked your panties down and off, tossing them to get lost amongst the blankets. "What if someone sees?"

"Don't worry, I got you," he said, eagerly pushing his jeans down so they bunched up mid-thigh, then settled between your legs and tugged the blanket back over you both. "Ain't no one gonna see us, they're all lookin' up," he whispered before slotting your lips together once again.

Your brows pinched together and your mouth fell open when he first pressed inside, his impossibly hard cock parting your walls and making room for himself deep within your body. His hand cradled the side of your face, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your cheek when he buried himself inside you with a grunt.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, wrapping around the thick muscle there, threading through some of his hair and holding him close.

Joel bumped his nose against the side of your throat, his own gasps being drowned out by yours as he hid his face against your neck and slowly dragged his cock in and out. Each flex of his hips made you soften under him until you moaned his name into the night air, your voice being muffled by the fireworks overhead and oh, he liked hearing that. His name falling from your lips in ecstasy while he buried himself as deep as he possibly could inside your warmth caused him to think stupid thoughts and feel stupid things.

You wanted to ask him how he did it, how he made you feel so fucking good, how he managed to reach a place inside you that had your mind going numb and your skin tingling with anticipation, but you couldn't find your voice. You could only offer him small whimpers and throaty moans, hoping it would be enough to encourage him.

He panted against your skin, his wet exhale mingling with the humidity of the air, leaving your throat sticky and warm. His hand gripped your thigh, tugging your leg upwards, shifting you around until he found a position that pleased him.

His hips began to move faster when, in the back of his mind, he knew the fireworks would be wrapping up soon. He wished he could take his time with you. He wished you didn't have to hold back those pretty sounds that fell from your even prettier mouth. But fuck, you just looked so beautiful and you felt so good wrapped around him that he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh, god," you whined, fingernails digging into his upper back so hard that he could feel the pinch through the fabric of his shirt. "Right there, Joel, please," you whimpered, and he grinned.

"Y'feel so good, baby," he murmured in your ear, making sure to maintain the same pace within you, not wanting to deny you any pleasure. "So fuckin' good. Wanted you from the second I saw you tonight, y'know that?"

You moaned and continued to claw at his back, your eyes prickling with tears as your climax swelled low in your belly.

"I lied earlier," he admitted, watching your face closely when he said, "didn't sting at all that my date didn't show. Wouldn't've been able to keep my eyes off you the whole time, anyway."

You groaned and cried out his name, your hand slapping over your mouth and once again he grew angry with himself that he didn't just take you home.

"Joel," you whimpered behind your hand, and he yanked it down, uncaring if anyone heard at that point.

"Tell me what you want," he said roughly, hips fucking into you at a steady clip that made beads of sweat form against his hairline.

"Harder," you groaned, biting at his jaw, then latching onto his neck and sucking wet, open mouthed kisses there, hoping to leave a mark. "I'm close, fuck me harder," you repeated, and something primal in him unfurled at the command.

You buried your face against his shoulder when he started to snap his hips into you, his arms caging you in and keeping your body from sliding up the bed of the truck. You wrapped your legs around his waist like an anchor as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, all the while his mouth dragged up and down your neck, your face, your shoulders... anywhere he could find skin, he left his mark.

Then he felt a familiar tightening around his cock and your body began to tremble underneath him, causing his stomach to tense and his hips to stutter. Your teeth clamped down on his shoulder when you came, your words muffled against his body, your hands scrambling against his back as if you were about to fall.

Maybe you were.

"Where?" he whispered frantically, and when you took too long to respond he grabbed your chin, forcing your eyes to lock. You were all fucked out, your body slack and your breath haggard as you gazed up at him, confused. "Where?" he asked again with more urgency, and finally it clicked.

"Inside," you replied, voice cracking. He shook his head like he was in pain and dropped his hand from your chin back down to your hip, pulling you impossibly closer while he continued to plunge inside of you. "It's fine, it's safe," you clarified for him, and that was all he needed to hear.

His mouth crashed over yours when he came, his kisses sloppy and his throat hoarse from the way his words turned into growls against your lips. He pulled back, breaking the kiss, and cupped your face again. Your noses brushed together and your eyes locked as his hips slowed down but still rocked into you, each surge of his cum punctuated by a soft ah until he finally stilled and collapsed.

"Christ," he grumbled against your shoulder. You gently raked your fingers through his hair while you each caught your breath, his body shivering when your nails scraped his scalp just right. He turned his head and gave you a little smile before tenderly pressing your lips together, then carefully sliding out of you with a grunt.

He rolled onto his back and yanked his jeans back up before searching around the ruffled blankets for your clothes. Right when the big finale began, he handed them back to you.

"Perfect timing," you giggled as you squirmed around under the blanket to put your clothes back on. Joel glanced around, his veins still pumping his body full of dopamine, and confirmed that nobody had been close enough to overhear, let alone see, what happened.

Once the fireworks stopped, the crowds of people in the parking lot clapped and began to head to their cars, headlights and engines turning on all around you.

You sat up and straightened out your shirt, trying to play it cool but internally you were freaking out. Was this a one time thing? It had to have been. Right? Did you want it to be a one time thing?

Then, Joel broke the awkward silence.

"Can I ask you somethin'? And you can be honest, it won't hurt my feelin's none," he said. When you looked over at him, he was looking off in a random direction, unable to look you in the face when he asked, "Was this just to get back at Tommy?"

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"N-no, of course not," you stammered. "I haven't even thought about Tommy in years. Besides, I wouldn't do something like that."

He tilted his head back in your direction and grinned.

"That's a relief, 'cause it mighta hurt my feelin's."

You laughed and tossed a pillow at him.

"You liar."

He chuckled and gently tossed the pillow back. You tucked it against your stomach as you stared at one another, each of you trying to work out what happened next.

"I wanna see you again," he said, answering your unspoken question, and you couldn't hide the delight from spreading across your face.

"Me, too," you said, and he smiled. A big smile, one that definitely made your knees weak that time. "But what about Tommy? I don't wanna cause some problem with you two."

Joel shrugged and took a deep breath. "Then maybe it can be our little secret."

A slow, mischievous smile tugged at your lips and you knew in that moment he was going to be trouble.

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[sorchathered]

All I want for Christmas is you🎄

A/N- Hey y’all! This is my submission for @bellaireland1981 Hallmark Holiday writing challenge! A little corny, perfectly christmassy, and just in time for the holidays! I hope you all love it!

Pairing- Jake Seresin x reader (callsign Fawn)

Warnings- Language, Angst, Jake Seresin in love

Summary- the squad gets roped into a holiday charity auction, where dates with single male aviators are the prize. Will you bite the bullet and tell Jake how you feel before Christmas break? Or will you have to watch him go on a date with someone else?

The air was filled with excitement this week. Christmas block leave started in a few days and Maverick could tell that everyone on his team was going to be completely useless. No one could blame them though; it had been a hell of a year and going home for a few days was a guaranteed way to boost their spirits and get them back in the game for the new year. The knock on his office door was unexpected though, and when Admiral Simpson marched into his office he knew the time for celebration was probably on hold. Matching orders in hand he groaned as he made his way down to the ready room; the guys were going to hate every minute of this. It would be hilarious.

"I guess Cyclone's wife is part of some fancy supper club and they decided to auction off dates with single aviators as a big prize. I mean it all goes to charity so l guess it's not all bad." Natasha says with a shrug as she digs into her lunch, Bradley looks less than enthused about the whole ordeal and Jake doesn't seem to have a care in the world. "It's more like we got volun-told to do it, the only consolation is a four day weekend, if you ask me we could have at least gotten a gift card or something." Bradley grumbles, and you can't help but agree it does seem pretty meager considering they are basically being sold to a bunch of middle aged women to ogle them. You can't help but be a little annoyed at how chill Jake seems about it though; it's not like the two of you were serious or anything, but the little green monster was clawing at you at the thought of someone else holding his attention. You'd unpack that later, now wasn't the time.

If Jake seems unphased to you then it must be a Christmas miracle, he can’t stop wondering what you’re thinking about this whole ordeal; would you bid on him? Would he have to go on some stupid date with a 50+ year old divorcee and make small talk? He didn’t mind being ogled for charity, it was for a good cause and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t know he looked as good as he does. He should tell you how he feels, just bite the bullet and ask you to be his girlfriend. The thought of you laughing over the ridiculousness of him settling down has kept him from making the declaration, he may seem cocky and cool headed but on the inside? Well he’s a big ball of nerves when it comes to you. You weren’t like anyone he’d ever been into before, and the thought of getting turned down was down right soul crushing. So he’d settled for casual hook ups, late night booty calls and shitty diner food late at night when you wanted company. He wanted more; real dates where he held your hand and got dressed up to eat fancy shit he couldn’t pronounce, waking up and eating breakfast together, goodnight kisses before you passed out in each other's arms. He was getting soft, or at least that’s what Javy said when he got that dopey look on his face when you entered the room. He’d tell you after Christmas block leave, surely by then he’d have his shit together enough to make his case.

You had to admit that while the San Diego women’s supper club was a stuffy bunch, they certainly knew how to throw a swanky affair. The ballroom of the Lafayette Hotel was decked to the brim with an old Hollywood Christmas vibe. Garlands covered in holly and poinsettias covered the doorways, Christmas lights and candles as far as the eye could see, as a jazz band played holiday classics while the crowd of upper class ladies mingled with their crystalline glasses of spirits. It very much felt like stepping back in time; almost as if Sinatra himself was preparing to take the stage. You were definitely glad Phoenix had the forethought to drag you and Halo out to dress shop earlier in the week, your cocktail dress you usually donned for weddings wouldn't have cut it for something like this. The event said black tie and they weren’t kidding, even the guys in the squad had shown up in tuxes, and you had to keep your composure because Jake Seresin in a suit was a feast for the eyes. He mingled a little with the group as he made his way over to you, beer in hand because you can dress him up but he’s still a good ol’ southern boy at heart. His gaze over your frame heated your skin, and he knew damn well he had you flustered, flicking his toothpick around in his mouth as he grinned at you.

“You look good Fawn, damn good.” You felt good too, it was a beautiful night and he was by your side, now if only you could get yourself together enough to tell him how you felt. “I have something I need to talk to you about Jake, before we all go on block leave and don’t see each other until the new year.” He cocks an eyebrow at you and leans in so he can give you his full attention, this is it, just jump off the edge headfirst and tell him you want a real relationship. “I want us-“ You hear someone clear their throat behind you, it’s Admiral Simpson and his wife- beckoning all the eligible bachelors to meet up on stage so the auction can begin. With a groan Jake drops his head to your ear, squeezing your hand as an apology as he asks you to hold that thought. Ugh! You should’ve just said something sooner, now you’ll be left with your anxiety to keep you company while you watch a bunch of women place their bids. The girls make their way back to their seats, Halo suggests that Phoenix should place her bets on Coyote; Lord knows neither of them have been subtle about their hookups these days.

“I doubt any of us has the money to throw around that these rich old bags do.” “Oh my God Phe!” You crack a smile at her crassness, she and Javy seem so solid; nothing like the uncertainty you feel in your gut right now.

“Oh shit, isn’t that Admiral Roger’s ex wife? The one Jake got trash duty for hooking up with?” Halo whispers as an elegant looking woman walks past them with a sneer. “Fuck. Yeah that’s her. She got reported by Mav for stalking Jake too, went completely bat shit after their hookup and wanted to be his sugar mama or some shit. She’s bad news. You don’t think she’ll bid on him do you?” Phoenix said, frown etching her pretty features as she looked at you for an answer. You didn’t have one, you hadn’t even thought about her in months. She’d really fucked with Jake mentally, it was part of the reason you’d kept relationship talk off the table because you were afraid you’d run him off after that train wreck. If she was here it was almost guaranteed that it was to stir the pot, you had to do something, anything to keep him out of her cross hairs. “Phe, I gotta go talk to Mav- but we have to protect Jake. See what everyone’s got in extra cash- we may need it.”

The auction was definitely a success, these ladies knew what they wanted and went for it. Harvard had gone for 5,000 and as the rest of the guys were filing out you imagined the prices would just keep rising. The feeling in your stomach felt more like a boulder as you watched the former Mrs. Rogers and her gaggle of snotty girlfriends ogle over each of your friends. This was supposed to be a fun joke for charity but the more you thought about this woman using it to manipulate the man you loved the more sick you felt. Mav had assured you that he’d handle it as best he could; Iceman seemed confident that combined everyone could place a bet to win Jake and that there was no need to worry but it did little to calm your nerves. Finally Jake takes his turn on the stage, flashing his trademark grin and playing it up for the crowd. He caught your eye and gave you a wink, and as much as you wanted to return it you couldn’t bring yourself to smile. What if someone else won him? What if she won him? I mean yeah it’s just a line dancing date for charity but still. This woman is a nightmare in heels and you’d rather not watch him suffer through an evening with her.

“I’ll start the bidding at 100 dollars!” Mrs. Simpson calls out over the microphone, and a chorus of bids ring out through the ballroom. A bidding war breaks out between Mrs. Rogers and an ancient looking woman seated in the front, bringing the price to nearly 10,000 dollars. Jake looks off kilter as he watches his stalker fight over the bid prices, and you realize that none of you have the cash to help keep him from getting away unscathed. “Oh god, he’s really gonna have to deal with her isn’t he?” You groan, Phoenix rubbing your arm absentmindedly as the price skyrockets to 30,000. It appears though that Mrs. Rogers has finally met her match, at 35,000 she gives up and relinquishes her place to the little old lady. Finally you can breathe a sigh of relief; cheers ring out among your table as the older woman stands up and takes a bow, digging in her purse for her black card. When her name is announced you can’t help but laugh; it turns out she’s Icceman’s beloved mother in law, she loves charity work and has a ridiculous amount of money and nowhere to spend it. She pinches Jake’s cheek as he makes his way over to her, with a robust laugh she shoos him off to the table your squad resides, and he is back to grinning like he won the lottery himself.

“What did she say to you? Ice’s mom?” You say later in the evening, Mrs. Rogers' husband apparently got a very interesting text from her someone about her whereabouts and left shortly after the auction ended with her tail between her legs. “She said I have a damn good squad looking out for me, but it’s more about what Mav said that I want to talk about. How about we take a walk, sugar?” He downs the rest of his whiskey and takes your hand in his, leading you out to the lobby where it’s quieter.

Before you can say a thing he’s got you all wrapped up in his strong arms, leaning in with a gleam in his eye as he kisses you by the obscenely large Christmas tree. You melt into it, the noise of the party drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears, your head going a little fuzzy as he deepens it to the point of indecency. When he finally pulls away you chase his lips and he chuckles, stroking your jaw and soaking up the moment. “Mav told me you saved me from an evening of hell with my stalker, that true pretty girl?” You’ve been caught and you know it. “I just didn’t think it was right; you deserve better than that. A-and if I’m being honest, I didn’t want anyone else to have your time…especially not her.” You frown in frustration and he can’t help but find that little crease between your eyebrows so damn endearing.

“What did you want to tell me earlier? I can take a guess and hope like hell I’m right but I need to hear you say it.” He looks at you with so much love, it’s overwhelming and heats you all the way to your toes.

“I want us. I know we’ve been keeping things casual, but I fell in love with you Jake, and I want more with you. If that’s what you want too.” You’ve got his heart in your hand and you don’t even know it, he leans in to kiss you again as he whispers against your lips. “All I want for Christmas is you darlin’, couldn’t ask for a better gift. I’m yours, loving you is the easiest thing I can do and I’ll do it forever if you let me.” It was the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received.

Tagging- @bellaireland1981 @roosterforme @attapullman @honeytwrites @heavenssins @djs8891 @kmc1989 @mynameismckenziemae @kissmecaitie @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @pinguhub @lenafromthenordiccoven @shanimallina87 @trickphotography2 @teacupsandtopgun

[deeplymax]

! MIDAS TOUCH

☀︎ Kink Headcanons for jjk men <3

FT: gojo, geto, nanami, toji

CONTAINS: 18+CONTENT, MDNI. , not proofread, fem reader, pure filth, breeding kink, mating press, overstimulation, switch!gojo(?), fingering, p in v, raw sex(wrap it b4 u tap it tho!), riding, oral, praise, oral

A/N: i cooked i think, i tried a new writing style so erm! idk requests r open and make sure to take care of urself ily ཐི♡ཋྀ likes + reblogs + comments r always appreciated!

𓇼 NANAMI

I think as a fandom we all agree Nanami is a family man. He’s got a steady and stable relationship with you, so who better to have his kids then you?

I like to think he got baby fever after he saw you holding your niece for the first time ,just falling in love with how sweetly you spoke to the baby, how gentle you looked, like a natural mother.

It for sure got his cock in a stir.

Thoughts of you round with his kid filled his head, thinking of you taking care of the little bundle of joy almost had him bend you over in the nearest room.

Guaranteed for the next few weeks(at least) he’d have you bent over, pumping you full of his cum. He’d hold your legs close to your ears, putting you in a mating press while his cock pumps you full.

Nanami would just keep stuffing you full over and over again, overstimulating himself just to get you pregnant. Fucking you until you’re nearly cross-eyed from just how many orgasms he;s pulled from your sore, stuffed pussy.

Nanami who would keep fucking you sore every night until he sees  a positive pregnancy test. And even with that, he’d fuck another one into you as soon as he can <3

𓇼 GOJO

Whether he’s being overstimulated, or overstimulating you, this man loves it.(he’s a whore.)

With you, he loves seeing the fucked out expression on your face and he pulls out your nth orgasm, watching how you writhe and shudder as his fingers delicately work you open. Or when he’s fucking you raw with his cock, mushroomy tip hitting that spongy spots that makes your toes curl. He makes it his goal to cum at least 3 times before he even thinks about coming himself.

But it also goes the same way when you overstimulate him. Could be from riding him, sucking him off, or just even a simple handjob. I like to believe he’s got a sensitive tip, so it’s  easy to overstimulate him. And for a fact, he loves it.

He’s a whimpering, moaner, and groaner 4 sure. So you’ll know he’s come enough time when he starts getting more vocal than he already is. Or when his hips rut into your mouth or hand, or  just straight up holding your hips while he ruts up into you. 

He’ll keep both of you overstimulated until you give out, or he’s practically ‘shooting blanks’

𓇼GETO

Geto in my heart will forever be a soft lover. He could fuck rough, sure, but i like to think a majority of the time he treats you very sweetly(unless you’ve been a brat but thats a diff talk)

He just loves to fuck you, even if he’s fucked you so dumbed that its gone in one ear and out the other. Something about the sparkle in your eyes when he coos sweet words at you just gets him going even more.

“Open your legs, baby, ‘wanna see that pretty pussy.” He’d coax at you, leaving wet, open kisses along your thighs. 

“That’s it, good girl, always listening to me.” Geto praised. He’d always take his time with his fingers, mouth, or cock. 

He’d talk you through it, praising how well you’re doing, how pretty you look with that look of ecstasy on your face. He’s just smitten with you, and it will always show when hes got you in his hands.

𓇼 TOJI

Toji’s a sucker for oral. I will not be fought on this

He seems like he would enjoy receiving oral and giving it just as equally. But when i tell you he’d fuck your mouth, i mean it.

He’s the type to hold your hair in a pigtail, gliding your mouth along his cock; just the way he likes it. His ears suck up all the lovely gasps and gags you make, the small moans and whimpers. He’d love watching as you try to circle your clit and suck him off at the same time, watching as you try to find something to rub your dripping wet pussy against.

When he’s giving oral, he might just be enjoying it more than you. He’d have a wole feast down there, spelling his name on your clit, sucking your juices; there's really no stopping him and his meal. 

He just can’t get enough of the way your thighs squeeze around his head, or how your hands pull at his hair, bumping your clit up against his nose.

He thinks you look equally as pretty on your knees between his manspread, face buried in his happy trail as you suck at his cock.

[surielstea]

“Hey, Stranger.”

Based on a request.

Pairing: Rhysand x Fem!Reader

Summary: In attempt to get away from the ball, Rhysand encounters a generous stranger and seems to find exactly what he’s looking for when she invites him in.

Warnings: Mention of sickness | all fluff | teensy argument at the end but has a HEA :)

4.1k words

Rhys had yet to decide where it was exactly he was going. His hands were tucked into his pockets and the darkness of his power swirling from his neatly pressed jacket.

He left the ball thrown in his honor quickly after it started, it was an event meant solely for him to find a High Lady, or at least scope out the options.

A night of mindless women vying for attention that he had no care for, none of them held what he was looking for, and none of them were her. Who she was, he had no clue, but he would, once he found her.

A low whistle came from his lips, the tune the same one he heard as he snuck out of his own damned party.

I was squatted down beside the bar sign, writing the nightly specials with the chalk in my hands when the stranger approached.

"One free drink with the order of a meal? It's almost too good to be true," The male said. I turned, not noticing his footsteps, and glancing towards him. I chuckle, rising to face him— even if he towered over me, and readjusted the sign to stand on its own. "You hungry? I could open up a few minutes early," I offer and his dark, manicured brows lift in slight surprise. He was beautiful, truly, his tanned features and hair dark as night complimenting his stunning violet eyes that seemed to be stealing the breath from my lungs.

"Such generosity, from a stranger," He smirks, his eyes softening as he took in my modest dress and simple hairstyle. It wasn't pity that shone in that glorious violet, but warmth. Then those eyes flick down from my face, lower, then slowly trail my figure all the way back up— lingering for a moment on the way my neckline dipped a little too low for comfort. I blurt out my name and his eyes snapped back to mine, not at all looking ashamed for his staring.

"There, not strangers anymore." I shrug with a gentle grin. He mirrors it with a charismatic smile that has been guaranteed to have dropped panties before.

"Lead the way then," He jerked his head back towards the tavern and I nodded, swiveling on my heel and heading towards the propped open, slightly worn red door. The tavern itself was a little rough around the edges, the paint chipping from the walls, the fireplace dusty, and half of the table legs were uneven. But it paid the bills and the regulars didn't seem to mind as long as we served drinks.

"Why aren't you at the ball tonight?" The male asked as I loved my way around the bar counter and he sat on one of the stools.

"I have to stay and look after my mother," I explain, and I wasn't sure why I told him something so personal, so I quickly added, "Besides, once that ball is over this bar will fill tremendously. Someone's got to run it."

He simply nods in reply, leaning onto the counter with fascination in his eyes, as if I were a creature to be studied.

"And what about you? Why'd you leave?" I ask, turning away from his stare to pour him a mug of ale.

"I didn’t find what I was looking for there," He explains as I place the mug in front of him. "Out here, though, much better." His eyes linger on me as he brings the glass up to his sensuous lips, and something tells me he wasn't telling me the entire truth.

"That's all? I don't buy it, you're too polished to be wandering like this, what's the true reason?" I lean my hands onto the counter, tilting my head at him.

"Polished, huh? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me." He taunted, setting his mug down and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"And I'd say you're deflecting," I retort. "So tell me, what are you hiding, stranger?" I smirk, using the nickname to my advantage, if only to further show I knew very little about him.

"Perhaps I found a better reason to stay away?" He suggests, leaning back in his stool with casual grace as if he comes to this bar nightly.

"Oh? And what might that be?" I arch a brow, pushing off the counter and crossing my arms over my chest.

His smirk widens. "I'm looking at her." He purrs and a blush blooms across my cheeks and my heart rate picks up, I prayed to every god that he couldn't hear it.

I steel my features into submission as I say, "You're not a very subtle male are you?"

He snorts, looking down at his pressed black suit. "What about me says subtle?" His eyes come back up to mine, reaching to his lapel and picking an invisible piece of lint from it.

I chuckle and shake my head. "Very little," I say with an amused smile, going over to the sink and grabbing a damp cloth that hung over the faucet, wanting to busy my hands, I begin wiping down the countertop.

"So is this what you do, then? Tavern maid by day, barmaid by night?"

"No, I only work the night shift here,  I'm a teacher at the school down the road during the day," I explain, a proud grin on my lips as I think of all my young students.

"A teacher? I thought they were supposed to be strict?" He suggests and I smirk, glancing up at him with a wicked gleam in my eyes.

"I can be strict if you'd like," I shrug, feigning innocence.

"You're bold for someone who doesn't know who they're talking to," He purred in reply and I scoffed.

"Bold?"

"Inviting me in? Flirting with me?" He suggests, leaning onto the bar, closer to me.

"I am not flirting. And I'm only being nice, you looked like you needed saving from your own thoughts." I shake my head, turning away from him and discarding the damp rag back over the sink faucet before moving towards the kitchens where I could prepare him a meal.

"And you think a meal will do that?" He asks from behind me, I can feel his stare on my figure as I shuffle behind the bar for a plate.

"I've been told I make a killer pie, you'd be surprised how far a slice will get you," I say while playing with a piece of my signature pie.

"I'll take one then," He hums and I walk back over to him, placing the plate of warm pie in front of him.

"Good." I hold a fork out to him. He takes it with wild amusement in his gaze before digging into the slice and taking a large bite. I tried to pretend I wasn't watching his reaction, instead refilling his ale but his minor groan did not slip past my notice.

"So, you never told me your name, what should I call you?" I lift a brow, glancing over at him and pushing his mug back over beside his plate.

"Handsome? Mysterious? Dashing? All three? I'll let you decide." He replied unflinchingly and it takes everything in my power not to scoff.

"I think I'll stick with 'stranger' for now," I give him a pointed look but he only replies with a one-shouldered shrug.

"Your loss."

———

The Stranger came back the next day, and the next, and the next. I always set a slice of pie aside for him. He usually came in at the end of the night, when the crowds dwindled and the barstools were put up, and once he was done with his food he helped me with the dishes, and I tried not to acknowledge the way my heart skipped a beat when our hands would brush beneath the warm soapy water. He'd always walk me home afterward and bid me farewell at the door, and only once he was gone would I realize that I never got his name. And if I did remember he'd change the subject or call himself handsome again.

I didn't get too hung up on it, I was far too distracted by his casual grace and clever remarks.

At some point we had shifted into him walking me from the school house to the bar, then meeting with me again to walk me home, I don't even know how it happened, how he had interwoven himself so much into my life. Not a stranger, a friend, whom I still did not know the name of.

I hadn't been expecting to see the stranger today. I wasn't working at the bar tonight, I told him that, yet here he was at the school house grouped with all the parents there to pick up their kids. They stared sometimes, at me and him. It was unabashed and more of a gawking look than a stare but if the love life of their children's school teacher is the only drama they have in their lives then so be it. I let them stare as the Stranger slung an arm around me and guided me along.

"I thought I told you yesterday I'm not working tonight?" I say, propping my hands on my hips as I stare at him with a pointed stare. "Which means no daily pie?" I say because that's what this was, right? He'd walk me to and from the tavern for some free food then be on his way. That was all.

He shrugs, his hands in his jacket pockets casually as he utters, "I still wanted to see you, slice or no."

"Shouldn't you be busy with more important things?" I ask, taking a few steps closer as a gaggle of young kids rush past me with their bags halfway on their shoulders, running to their parents.

"Who says this isn't the most important?" He suggests and a pink hue graces my cheeks. I look down at one of my students struggling with his bag.

"Well, you're always welcome," I say while leaning down and adjusting the boy's straps onto his back. The kid thanked me then rushed off, staring slightly at the Stranger in wonder. "Though the kids might ask you to read a story if they see you hanging around too much." I smile teasingly while brushing the front of my clothes off.

"I think I can manage that." He hummed, staring at me like I hung every star in the night sky that this court worshipped.

"I hope you know I'll be holding you to that," I say with a small smile, grabbing my own bag from its cubby and slinging it over my shoulders.

"Can you hold me to walking you home as well, or should I take my leave?" He asks, leaning against the doorway of my classroom.

I scoff a laugh, shaking my head amusedly. "I suppose some company would be nice." I drone dramatically and he returns my chuckle with his own rich, deep laugh.

The crunch of shoes on gravel sounded as the Stranger walked beside me, his black suede shoes so contrasting to my colorful kitten heels that the younger girls in my class adored so much. "So what does a school teacher do on her night off?" He asks after a pause of comfortable silence. Our hands brush as we walk, so I shove my hands into my pockets and shrug.

"Oh you know, wild stuff, baking pies, reorganizing the pantry, going to bed after dinner, truly living on the edge," I remarked, tossing him an incredulous glance.

"Dangerous, I might have to stick around just to make sure you survive." He intones and a soft giggle leaves my lips as I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

I could feel his stare linger on me at that moment, and perhaps it was the sun setting behind me, or the echo of my laugh, but I could’ve sworn he whispered, “Beautiful.” I glanced at him curiously but he looked away.

"You know, I've been thinking—" He started and cut him off.

"Treacherous words." I purr, earning myself a sidelong glare.

"Rude, as I was saying, I've been thinking that you might be one of the most interesting people I've ever met." He confesses and I snort, looking at him like he’s gone mad.

"What's funny about that?" He frowns, crossing his arms over his chest— and I most definitely did not miss the way his muscular arms strained against the fabric of his jacket.

"I work two jobs and live with my sick mother, there's not much interesting there," I utter, looking at the familiar slightly run-down town townhouse in front of me.

He shrugs. “I stand by what I said,” He hums, continuing to stay beside me all the way up to the front door.

My hand rested on the doorknob but I didn’t make the move to go inside, instead, I turned to him— my breath hitching at our proximity. I hadn’t realized how close he was, but now I could feel the warmth radiating off of him, his smell of sea salt and citrus invading my senses. I swallowed thickly as his eyes glanced down to my lips, then quickly back to my eyes.

"You've got flour on your cheek," He murmured and I flushed beet red in embarrassment.

"Still? Oh gods, I was prepping some dough for the tavern this morning," I replied, rubbing at my cheek with panicked movements and he chuckled, moving forward and reaching towards my face, then hesitating before touching me.

"Here, can I?" He arches a dark brow and I blink up at him but nod.

He cups my jaw, his thumb swiping over my cheek in a lover's caress. His touch was so intimate, and his calloused hands only brought warmth.

“There,” Again, his gaze went down to my lips, but before he could lean in I turned towards the door, fumbling with my bag for my keys while clearing my throat.

His touch didn’t linger as he retracted his hand and then took a few steps back. “So do I get an invite inside or am I subject to wandering the streets looking lost until I find my way home?" He suggests, simply filling the silence as I scrounge for my keys.

"Something tells me you're often lost," I say slightly shakily, finally finding my keys and unlocking my door.

"Not with you." He says casually and heat rises to my cheeks. I swing the door open, scanning the room for my mother then figuring she must be in bed. “You can come in, for a few minutes,” I say, entering the house and sliding off my shoes.

He follows my actions and closes the door behind me, taking in the warmly lit cabin, the fireplace crackling in front of the sofa, the curtains spread and welcoming in the last of the sun's rays.

I silently shuffled into the kitchen, and the stranger followed on my heels.

“So this is where the magic gets made, hm?” He said, eyeing a pie half dug into on the counter.

I frown at the sight of it and his brows furrow. “What is it?” He asks as I scan the room.

“I made that pie for you,” I say softly. “Hold on, just a moment,” I say and stalk towards the dining room separated by a partition wall. I peek my head through the open archway, finding my mother at the end of the table with incriminating crumbs and jam on her plate— and the corners of her mouth.

"Mom, what are you doing out of bed?" I sigh, more worried about her health than her stealing a slice from a container that I specifically told her this morning not to eat, granted she was half asleep and any food she could get down was as valuable as gold to me nowadays.

"I need a few moments of feeling young, and this pie will get anyone out of bed." She waves her hand at me dismissively, making a sour face as I attempt to look disappointed.

"Who's your friend?" She jerked her chin in the direction behind me, but she didn’t even glance at him. I turn to see the stranger now leaning against the open doorway, taking up the whole space with his height.

"Uh, he's—” I begin to say, only to realize I could not answer, for I still did not know his name. Yet here I was, inviting him into my home.

"By the cauldron— the High Lord." My mother gasps, standing up, her chair scraping against the tiled floors.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, gods, you'll have to excuse her, she's a little out of sorts—" I wave her off but the Stranger simply smiles and bows formally to my mother.

"At your service, my Lady."

My mouth goes dry. "You... you're the High Lord?"

The stranger— no, High Lord Rhysand, smirked. It dawned upon me that I never learned his name because he made sure of it, he only visited me during opening and closing hours, and that first night, the night of the High Lords ball, he said he hadn’t found what he was looking for, a potential wife. He had been looking for a High Lady that night.

Yet here he stood in my dining room like he’s always belonged here, his dark hair, his violet eyes, and his tanned skin all slotting into place in my memory of what I’ve learned of my courts High Lord. I swallowed thickly, glancing between him and my mother, then back at him.

“Can we speak, in private?” I say with a polite smile.

He pushes off the doorframe and moves for me to pass through. “Lead the way.” He gestures for me to pass with his hand in a dramatic manner. “It was nice meeting you, Miss,” The High Lord smiles charmingly at my mother and I grab his arm, dragging him down the hall towards my bedroom.

“You too, dearie!” My mother calls in a slightly frail voice.

I ignore him and pull the male into my room, closing the door behind him and then staring at him like he’s turned my world upside down.

I didn’t know how to react or what to say. I wanted to be furious at him, wanted to scream and yell and throw something at him to express the suffocating emotions clawing up my throat, but for some reason, I couldn’t.

Because beneath the betrayal, the anger, and the shock, lay something I thought I’d never experience. That flutter of something warm I felt when he smiled at me, or when our hands brushed, made me feel safe in ways I thought I never could before.

“Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me?” I whisper, quiet but not weak. My words were barely audible but he heard me, he always did.

“It’s not that I didn’t trust you, I just, I got lost in the feeling of you seeing me, for me.” He expressed but my glare did not waver.

“But you still have duties, you have a title— you have a gods damned court, you can’t just use me to play pretend,” I argue.

His eyes soften at my words and he takes a dangerous step forward. “I’m not using you, and I’m not playing pretend— in fact, it’s quite the opposite. With you Darling, I feel more like myself than I have in centuries.” He admits and I swallow, wringing my hands anxiously. “I wanted to tell you,” He adds.

“You should have,” I stress with narrowed brows, a furious expression that didn’t quite meet my eyes.

“But would you have treated me differently if you had known from the start?” He suggests and I clamp my mouth shut.

He was right, I doubt I’d be as unguarded with him if I knew of his title, and I certainly wouldn’t allow him to walk me home every night, and gods— oh gods, I flirted with him. The High Lord.

“I don’t know,” I sigh, rubbing at my face, unsure how to navigate any of this.

“I’m still me, nothing has to change.” He takes another step, less than an arm's distance away now. Too close, or too far. I didn’t know.

“But they do, you’re a High Lord and I’m just—”

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence, you are far more than ‘just’ anything.” He cuts me off and I release a low, well-earned sigh.

“High Lord,” I muttered under my breath, the weight of the title seeming to make my room close in around us.

“Rhys, please, call me Rhys.” He grabbed my still fidgeting hands, his familiar callouses still the same, the warmth still the same.

“I could never fit in your world,” I express.

“You already do, in ways I thought never imaginable.” He expressed, his thumb caressing over the fluttering pulse in my wrist.

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know I want you in it— beside me, I mean.” He confessed and I swore my breathing stopped and the words were stolen from my mouth.

“You, you can’t be serious,” I shake my head, disbelief encasing me.

“I told you I didn’t find what I was looking for the night of the ball, but I did— an equal, a High Lady.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Everything was a phantom wind, except those violet eyes that I feel like I’ve known my entire life. Those remained steady, constant. “Rhys,” I whisper and the tension in his shoulders dissipates, as if hearing his name on my lips had lifted a weight atop them.

“I don’t know the first thing about, any of that,” I admit and a soft smile tugs at his lips.

“That’s okay, we can figure it out, together.” He promised. “You don’t have to decide right now, you don’t have to decide for another century if that’s what you prefer— just think about it, because I truly believe no one else could fill that role, not the way you can.”

I nodded slowly, still processing everything, and leaning into his touch, his hand slipping into mine while his other came to cup my cheek.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” I nod. Because I had to weigh my job at the schoolhouse, and my situation with my mother— I couldn’t just uproot my life and move into a palace.

“Will you also think about finally letting me kiss you?” He mutters, our noses nearly brushing.

I crack a sly smile. “I’ve done enough thinking about that, come here Stranger,” I grab him by his collar and he grins wildly the moment our lips connect.

His hand on my jaw slides to the nape of my neck while his other moves to my hip, pulling me impossibly closer.

My arms sling over his shoulders, my chest pressed to his, slotting together like the final piece to a puzzle I’ve been trying to finish for years.

Everything else faded away as my back made contact with the cold wood of my door and his wicked tongue slid over my bottom lip. I gasped softly and he took advantage of the moment to invade my mouth. He explored and tasted and savored every inch he could find, memorizing the feel of me against him, my taste, my rapid heartbeat, my muffled noises.

I didn’t know I was suffering from lack of oxygen until he pulled away and I had to take a deep, recovering inhale.

I blinked a few times, the kiss tilting my world on its axis.

He chuckled, the sound like velvet against my bare skin. “That really did a number on you, huh?” He taunted and I glared up at him, wrapping my arms a little tighter around the back of his neck.

“Don’t get cocky, I’m still mad at you,” I grumble but his smile didn’t falter.

“In my defense, you never asked if I was the High Lord,” He said matter of factly and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, right because that’s a normal question to ask people I meet on the street.” I scoff and he nods, staring down at me with a love-drunken smile.

“I might take you up on that High Lady offer sooner than expected if kissing is a part of my job description,” I murmur, ghosting my lips over his.

He gifts me a wolfish grin in reply. “Much more than kissing is on that description,” He purrs, matching my tone.

“Tempting.” I rise onto my toes and connect our lips once again, and again, and again. Prepared to do so until I was sure I was sick of the taste of him.

I knew it was reckless to make such life-changing decisions so suddenly, but internally it was clear what my answer would be to his offer.

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[gurugirl]

Can We Start Over? | Ch. 2 The Job Offer

Series Summary: From the first day you and Harry meet, your relationship is beyond complicated. A one night stand leads to hurt feelings and then a job opportunity that you simply can't pass up is offered. But can you handle working for a man like him? rich!harry x plus size!reader | enemies to lovers

A/N: This is a 5 part series commissioned by @justfattiethings (thank you hon!).

Chapter 2. Summary: You can't stop thinking about what happened the night you met Harry and how much you hate him. But then you get some really good news about a new job. Except there's a catch.

Word Count: 9k

Warning: 18+ only, angst, alcohol consumption

Can We Start Over? masterlist

“Oh my god, Y/n. What a fucking dick. But your response was gold! I wish you’d stayed to see what happened. Holy shit!” Brandy laughed as she clinked her glass with yours, “That was some gangster shit right there!”

You both laughed at your recount of what had happened with Harry. You met your best friend Brandy for Sunday brunch at your usual spot. You had called her on Saturday after your exit paperwork was taken care of with Mr. Spector and said you had some very interesting news to tell her but that you wanted to share it in person. This wasn’t over-the-phone kind of gossip. It was a with-a-martini-in-hand face-to-face kind of gossip.

“And besides… the most important thing is at least you got off. Typical fuck-boy, good in bed but an absolute slut.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And it doesn’t bother me too much, really. Not now. Plus Mr. Spector gave me a really nice parting bonus. And I’m sure I’ll be matched with someone soon for another gig but even if it takes a few months, I won’t have to dig into savings thanks to him.”

And it was true. Mr. Spector presented you with the check and a hug and well wishes and you were nearly in tears by the time you left his estate. The movers were there the whole time, taking furniture out of his lovely home. A home you’d gotten to become very familiar with over the years. You held events and small parties there, you helped him redecorate the master suite and all the bathrooms (well you organized it all and helped the decorators and builders with the design and material selection). You even had your own room there. Not that you often needed to stay but that was part of your job description as a personal assistant. Sometimes you needed to stay. But usually, you’d go home at night.

The service that you worked for assured you there were a few clients in need of a personal assistant and if it was a good match, they’d refer you. That was important. To have the right match. You were lucky you were single and without kids. That meant you were more flexible. But that didn’t guarantee a good match.

You were sure you’d be enjoying a couple of weeks off work off to do nothing. It sounded fantastic.

.           .           .

You hadn’t expected to get an offer so soon. When Monica emailed you on Monday afternoon with the file and details of your new assignment (if you accepted) you perused the document with your mouth agape. You’d been matched with someone with what was known as stealth wealth (most were), who traveled frequently. You’d need to keep a bedroom in their home (not out of the norm) and travel with them from country to country. You would negotiate holidays and time off once meeting in person but the salary offered was the first thing you saw when you looked at the contract. There was no pressure to sign but how could you say no to an offer that would erase your college debt and allow you to buy a home in a year? You couldn’t let this one slip away. 

You emailed Monica back right away that you’d accept it and like to move forward. The next step would be to meet in person. Then, you’d find out more about who you’d be working for. The service was very discreet. The client was always given absolute anonymity until it was time for the first meeting.

You stared at your computer screen as if to will Monica to respond faster. Sipping your coffee you tapped your foot against the floor in anticipation. You kind of would have enjoyed some time off. A week or two of downtime. Sleeping in. Catching up on all the movies and shows you hadn’t had time to watch on Netflix. Order in pizza and Chinese, and day drink in your pajamas. But this opportunity wouldn’t be on the table for much longer. Another person would snatch this up in a heartbeat. That dollar sign alone would see to it.

When Monica finally responded you placed your mug of coffee down, held your breath, and clicked the email.

You’ll be meeting with the client tomorrow at 8:00 am at an address that will be sent to you via our private messaging app at 5:00 am. He requests you bring a physical copy of your resume and if you both agree to terms tomorrow he’ll bump up your salary 10% automatically. Confirm this is okay and I’ll set up the rest. Monica

You squealed as you quickly typed back a resounding Yes! Book it! Thank you!

You stood up and paced. Okay. So you learned the client was a he. Well, you’d blow him away. You’d make him want to hire you on the spot with that lovely little 10% bump.

You already knew the outfit. Thanks to working for Mr. Spector, you’d been allotted a stipend for very nice, and well-tailored outfits for when you needed to look chic and professional. Great for a first meeting, your double-breasted jacquard wool coat in neutral colors with a pop of blue, and your blue silk button-up tucked into your jacquard wool skirt, matching the coat. Stylish, flattering, and appropriate for meetings with a wealthy man who would undoubtedly be dressed very nicely as well.

It was perfect. You couldn’t believe how lucky you’d gotten. A new assignment so quickly and one that paid so well? It felt like fate.

.           .           .          

Harry had his house manager, Lucio, contact a highly recommended service to find a personal assistant for himself. He hated to find someone new because that was just one more person who knew his business. And he preferred having very few people in his circle. But Thasi was dumb. He couldn’t bear to have her working for him another minute. She had trouble with very basic tasks, like adding events to his calendar. She’d even missed two flights that he had booked for her and the last flight she missed he only realized it when she came into his study with a folder asking him about an account he needed to close out.

He stood from his desk and looked at the girl in astonishment, “Thasi. Why are you not 30,000 feet in the air right now? Why are you here standing in my house asking me this question? You are meant to be headed to New York City.” His voice was firm. Irritated.

The girl dropped her mouth open and blinked her eyes until it had finally dawned on her that she had forgotten to make her flight to meet with an art dealer on Harry’s behalf.

“I take it by the look on your face that you now realize your irreversible blunder. You’re fired. I’ll have your things sent back to your home by tomorrow afternoon.”

The poor girl couldn’t even argue with him. She knew she’d blown it. That was her second missed flight, of equal importance. And Harry felt he’d been quite generous and patient with her by giving her another chance. But he shouldn’t have.

So when he learned about Personal Premier Services from a few of his colleagues he decided to look for a PA that way rather than on his own like he had with Thasi. Harry’d had good luck finding staff for everything he needed for the last five years without help. The personal assistant was something rather new to him as he usually did most of his own errands by himself or had Lucio do them. But things were changing in his business and he needed an assistant quite desperately.

Harry woke before the sun rose and took his morning jog. He loved getting his day started earlier than most people. It meant he had time to do things like, exercise, catch up on world news, meditate, shower, and eat breakfast all before most other people would even be out of their beds. He also wished he could just stay awake forever. Wished he didn’t need sleep. There were so many things he could accomplish during the hours he wasted sleeping. But, being that he was only a mere human, his body required sleep.

“Sir? Y/n Y/l/n has just arrived. I have her waiting in the sitting room. Would you like me to bring her up?”

Harry cocked his head and looked to Lucio as he sat his pen down, “What did you say her name was again?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

Why did that name somehow feel so familiar?

“No. That’s okay, Lucio.” He stood from his chair, “I’ll go and greet her myself. Thank you.”

Harry’s immediate instincts told him that name was familiar. But why? And oddly, he first let his mind wander to it being you. But it couldn’t be. You were at the ball and he was certain you were wealthy just like him based on your outfit and your demeanor. He’d only gotten your first name that night, not your last name. And while Y/n was your name, the person looking for a job waiting for him downstairs certainly wouldn’t be the same woman who had put a used condom on his hotel door’s handle only to have his now ex-friend-whatever-she-was find it.

Yes. The ex-friend. Aster. He knew he should have stopped their little arrangement before she got too attached. It was never meant to be anything serious. From the start, he told her he was seeing other people but she never wanted to hear about anyone else he might have been sleeping with. And when he realized she started getting attached he should have recognized it was time to end it. But he didn’t.

Harry clenched his jaw and swallowed.

The knocking on his door had come a lot faster than he’d hoped. Aster wasn’t even supposed to be there. Her flight had been canceled so she wasn’t going to make it to New York City. He told her he’d see her the following day when he flew back. But of course, she rebooked a later flight without him knowing. As a surprise. And the call from Aster telling him she was on her way had shocked him and really put a damper on the night he thought he’d be enjoying with you. He just hoped she hadn’t passed you on her way to the door.

As soon as he opened it up, Aster slapped him across the face and held up a napkin with a blush-colored lip stain on it and a scribbled note. But what really had his attention was a droopy condom on his doorknob. Fresh with his come.

“What the fuck, Harry? What the fuck?!”

“Aster, I don’t… what is this?” He knew goddamn well what it was. It was you. “I think someone is just playing a joke on me. This isn’t mine…”

“The note, Harry? Whoever it is knows your fucking name.” Aster pushed passed him to make her way into the room.

Harry looked down the hallway and then cringed as he pulled the condom from the knob with the discarded tissue he picked up off the floor.

“Babe, this was just a cruel joke from someone–“

“Don’t you dare call me babe! And I don’t believe you. Who is going to play this kind of joke on you and then write your name on a napkin from the event you were just at?” She tossed him the napkin, “Hmm? I bet I know who. Someone you just fucked and kicked out because you didn’t think I’d come.”

Harry looked down at the napkin. Sure enough, it said A Secret Garden in the City with Alfred Spector’s company logo printed on it, as well as the note you’d written – Thank you, Harry xx. Bitch. He dropped the napkin onto the bed and ran a hand through his hair.

He didn’t know what to say. And it wasn’t like he’d been all that serious about Aster to begin with. She was gorgeous and they’d known one another for a while but that was where his attraction ended. In all honesty, he didn’t like her that much. Perhaps this was for the better, as much of an asshole as that made him seem.

“Aster, look…” he sighed and sat down at the edge of the messy bed, “You and I weren’t exactly serious. It’s always just been casual. You know that,” he looked at her with her hands on her hips, red in the face, tears just breaking her lash line. “I’m sorry. You and I were never headed for marriage. It was just some fun for a bit.”

“Some fun? I flew out here to see you on a whim. Not because I thought you were just a bit of fun but because I actually did like you. But you know what? You’re right. I don’t think I could have ever pictured myself marrying someone like you. Selfish, pathetic, overly regimented. You’re doomed to die alone, Harry.”

She pressed her lips together and waited for a response but when it didn’t come she stomped toward the door, slamming it behind her on her way out.

Harry smoothed his expensive blazer out and brushed off the feeling he was getting as he walked through the hallway to the foyer and then peeked into the sitting area where his interviewee would be sitting and waiting for him.

He nearly jumped back when his eyes met yours. Both of your faces held the same expression. Complete shock lined with minor disgust.

“This must be a joke,” you stood up from the plush silk-lined chair you’d been sitting in and looked around the room as if someone were going to pop out and tell you that you were on that show, Candid Camera, and it was all for a good laugh.

But the only person in your sight was the man you had a one-night stand with. The cocky asshole who’d treated you like garbage and then kicked you out of his room when he got a call from someone.

“I think there must be a mistake… You’re… are you a personal assistant? I’m confused.” Harry mimicked your body language, pivoting himself to look around to see if he could find someone and demand answers.

“Yes. That’s what I do for a living. But clearly, I have no intention of working for anyone like you, so if you don’t mind…” you picked up your briefcase and began to walk toward Harry to move past him and see yourself out.

But just as you walked through the threshold of the sitting room to the foyer Harry spoke, “Y/n.”

You stopped and turned to look at him in question.

“Come. Let’s have a chat,” he turned and began walking toward the grand stairwell that led upstairs, turning back to make sure you were following.

You blinked your eyes and scoffed as you looked down at your red-painted nails. Should you follow him? What would be the point? Just to hear him insult you and turn you away at the end anyway?

“You are looking for a job, are you not?” Harry spoke from the bottom of the stairwell, his hand on the lacquered wooden banister.

“I am. But… I don’t think this would work out.” You gestured at him.

“You and I are professionals and you come highly regarded. I’m in great need of an assistant. At the very least we can have a discussion and see where it takes us. I don’t like my time wasted and I’m sure you don’t either. You came all the way here. Let’s at least talk.”

Harry thought you looked cute and he could see the gears turning in your head. He could deal with the one night he’d had with you and the very improper thing you’d done which outed him to Aster if you were good at what you did.

“Yeah, but we…” you chose your words carefully, “Friday night? I honestly don’t think–“

“I can look past that if you can. This is strictly professional. I’ve no interest in anything more.”

What were you to do? He hadn’t just been a one-night stand. He was an asshole. Could he really pretend that none of that had happened? Could you?

But. There was the matter of the salary he was offering. An enticing and frankly irresistible number that could have you swallowing your pride.

“Fine. But I can assure you I will not tolerate being treated like…” you paused to carefully choose your words again. You were certain his house had staff listening in.

Before you could find the word you were seeking, Harry spoke, “Like an assistant who is paid to do her job flawlessly?” He began to take the steps upward and you followed.

You frowned at his description. As if you wouldn’t do your job flawlessly. You weren’t sure what he was implying but you had a bad feeling about this.

When you followed him into a large study with dark woods and big windows with heavy drapes, a huge walnut desk with an expensive chair and bookshelves lining one of the walls he closed, and locked, you noted, the door behind himself, “Sit.”

You looked at the plushy green velvet chairs with tufted cushions and ornate carvings in the arms and legs and placed your bag down on the chair next to the one you sat in. He sat in his own chair at his desk and looked at you, a harsh expression on his face. He was far more intimidating in this setting.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he spoke clearly as he kept his eyes pinned to yours, “What you did when you left that night is unforgivable in a personal setting. And because of that, you and I will never be friends. But that doesn’t mean we can’t work well together as boss and employee. I expect complete discretion and a professional attitude from anyone that works for me. Is that a problem for you?”

You felt your ears growing hot as your anger slowly rose, “I am the most professional and discreet personal assistant you’ll ever find. Anyone else will disappoint you and I would also expect that any employer would treat me professionally and fairly. What you did to me that night was insulting and something I will never forget nor forgive. So don’t worry, I’d never want to be a friend to anyone like you.” 

Harry clenched his jaw at your response and nodded, “Fair enough. Now that that’s out of the way, let’s talk job details and salary.” Harry looked down at his folder and opened it up.

“Salary? That part was already determined. Plus 10% on top if we come to an agreement on terms of employment today.” You reminded him.

Harry laughed and looked up at you with his head tilted to the side as if he were curious about you, “That was before I knew who I was offering such a generous salary to.” He looked down at the paper in front of him, marking something out and scribbling over it. He held the sheet of paper out to you.

You squinted at him and leaned forward to take the paper and your eyes widened at the new number he’d written in on the contract. You laughed and crumpled the paper as you stood from your chair, dropping it onto the floor and lifting your bag, “Goodbye, Mr. Styles.”

Turning and walking over the grand Persian rug that took up most of the floor you reached for the handle and when you pulled realized the door was locked. You placed your fingers over the keyhole and turned back to the smug fucker. He sat comfortably in his chair with his brows raised at you, unimpressed.

“Unlock the fucking door. This conversation is over.” You were fuming.

“And why’s that? I feel like that’s just a starting place. A negotiation if you will. Tell me why you deserve more and maybe I’ll consider it.”

“This isn’t a game. You had a perfectly fine offer that I was willing to negotiate off of but now you’re just insulting me, once again might add. I’d never work for anyone for that wage. Much less a self-absorbed man who treats women like rubbish.”

Harry folded his lips into his mouth as he tampered his grin. His cocky attitude was infuriating, “Oh please. Save the dramatics. Sit.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No. You’re an overly egotistical moron with nothing to back it up. I will not stand for being insulted this way.”

Harry pushed himself out of his chair and began to walk toward you, “Nothing to back it up? Wrong,” he grinned as he looked around his extravagantly decorated room and back toward you, “This home is a great example of what I’ve got to show for my accomplishments. My bank accounts as well,” he slowly walked to your side and put his hand onto the heavy oak door you were standing in front of as he licked his lips and looked down at your outfit before looking directly into your eyes, “And I’m pretty sure I had you crying my name over and over again when I made you come. I’d say that’s a great reason for my inflated ego. You certainly thought I was great when I had my dick inside of you.”

You swallowed and then scowled at his nerve to bring up such a thing, “Well, like you said, I’m a bit dramatic. I was overplaying it that night because I didn’t want you to feel bad. Now open the fucking door.”

Harry’s smirk didn’t fall as he leaned in closer, “Liar. You loved it,” then he backed away, giving you enough space to breathe, “Not that you’ll ever have a chance to experience it again.”

“Like I’d want that little thing anywhere near me. Now, are you gonna open the door or do I need to call 911 for attempted kidnapping?” You dug into your bag and pulled your cell phone out.

Harry laughed and you watched in dismay as his dimples appeared. He looked too handsome to be such an asshole. He put his hands up in surrender, “Okay. Fine. We’ll go back to negotiating off the original salary plus 10%. Okay?”

You sighed. You hated that you were even considering it. The salary he was offering was too good, though. You could handle him if he kept personal matters out of your working relationship. The worst-case scenario would be that you quit and told the service about him and how he treated you (of course you’d gather evidence so no one else had to put up with his shit) and then find another job working for someone else.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to go back to your seat.

Harry rounded the desk and sat down, putting his elbows on the desk once again, just like he’d done when you both first sat down to negotiate terms, “There we go. Money talks doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately, he was right. Money does talk.

You rolled your eyes again and looked at the back corner of his office to relieve yourself from his intense gaze.

“Less attitude, Y/n. Let’s begin, shall we?”

You suffered through an hour of going back and forth on expectations with Harry but at the end realized it wasn’t that bad. Once you both got out your frustrations at the beginning it seemed to flow smoothly after.

You even talked him into paying you 15% more, rather than just the 10%. Which you felt was a big win. Harry didn’t seem that phased by it.

He led you to what would be your room, which had your jaw dropping to the floor. It was… gorgeous. Like the rest of the house, it was grand and old but well-kept. The wide plank dark floors were covered with a light cream wool rug with small yellow, green, and blue flowers woven into the fabric. Long soft, lacy drapes hung from the ceiling and brushed against the floor over the tall windows that overlooked the massive back garden full of trees and flowers and fountains. The king-sized four-poster bed had a pale yellow, silk canopy with tiny blue birds sewn into the material. The bedspread was white silk with the same yellow and blue birds sewn in. Ornate, heavy wooden side tables, a dresser with a big vanity and silk-covered cushion sat across from the bed. An antique chandelier hung in the center of the room, high above the bed. Flowers and potted plants with green leaves rounded out the space. There were two closed doors. One led to a small closet (not a surprise it was so small for the period of the house), and the other to a fully updated, spa bathroom which… you really had to pause for a bit as you took it all in.

Harry handed you keys to the house and a fob key that would allow you in the gates that surrounded the home and told you to arrange to have your things moved in by the following day (on his tab) and that you would start work at 8am sharp.

You called Brandy the moment you drove out of the gates to tell her what had just happened.

“It’s him. It’s the asshole one-night stand. I just accepted the offer to be his assistant.”

“I’m coming over with a bottle of wine. I need details in person.”

“Brandy, I’ve got to make arrangements and get everything ready, I don’t know…” you hemmed as you drove down the road with your heart beating fast in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d just accepted to work with Harry Styles.

“Don’t make stupid excuses with me. You can do all that with a glass of wine in your hand.”

.           .           .

“I see why you took the job. Damn. I’m jealous,” Brandy spoke as she stood in your bedroom doorway while you packed up things you’d need right away. Harry explained that you’d be staying at his house more often during the week than your own apartment. He ran a tight schedule and driving an hour to his house every morning didn’t sound appealing and he didn’t like to be kept waiting.

“Yeah. I was going to say no. I really was but… how can I turn down that offer? I’ve never made so much in my life and honestly? Probably never will again. I figure it’ll be like a trial run. We’ll see if he can be professional.”

You called around and found movers and arranged for them to have everything delivered to Harry’s address the following afternoon. It was still early in the day so you scheduled to have a set of your spare keys delivered by a courier by 5 pm so they could have access to your apartment the following day as you’d be gone.

You were busy the whole time Brandy was there but you were glad she was with you. You marked items you needed to have delivered and printed out a sheet of paper for a checklist for the movers.

But by the time your keys were picked up by the courier and you were halfway through the bottle of wine, you’d finally had time to sit and relax.

“You two are totally gonna fuck again,” Brandy grinned as she looked at the TV.

You scoffed and smacked her arm, “We are not. I’d never go near him again. Not after that night. I actually, fully despise him.”

“Yeah… sure. I mean… I know he was an asshole but also the way you spoke about how good he was in bed? How do you turn that down? You two are gonna practically be living together and traveling together. I don’t know… I looked him up. He’s hot, Y/n. An asshole but… we all have needs.”

Shaking your head you sipped your wine and ignored her. The thought had very very briefly crossed your mind but it was quickly pushed away because the reminder of how he treated you Friday night couldn’t be ignored. You’d never ever forget the way he made you feel so little and so disgusting.

“He literally cheated on someone while he was with me. He had a girlfriend. He fucked me as she was on her way over. Like…” you flailed your arms dramatically, “how could I possibly sleep with someone that is a cheater? I mean willingly? Now that I know?” You shook your head.

Still, Brandy didn’t seem deterred in her assumption, “Yeah… but we don’t really actually know who called him. And if it was someone he was seeing? I mean… come on. It’s not as if they were married. We can gather that much. Yeah, he’s shit for what he did but like… I don’t know,” she shrugged, “It’s not like he cheated on his wife or something.”

Brandy had always looked at things through rose-tinted glasses which was annoying. Where you were more practical and stubborn. There was no way you’d end up in his bed ever again. You didn’t know the excuse for why he kicked you out after he spoke on the phone and called someone babe. But that was beside the point. The more important factor was the way he treated you and that was simply unforgivable.

.           .           .

You were running late. You couldn’t believe it. Your alarm had gone off on time. You showered, ran through your quick morning routine, double-checked that all your things would be delivered to the correct address, and then you were on the road by 6:45 am. You allotted an extra 15 minutes in case of extra bad traffic.

But traffic is unpredictable.

“Hello?” Harry spoke into the receiver. You had your phone on speaker.

“Harry? Mr. Styles!” You corrected yourself, “Um… I’m stuck on the highway and it’s a bit backed up. I’m just giving you a heads up that I’ll be like…” You sighed and looked at the clock trying to make some kind of conservative estimate, “twenty minutes late?”

You heard him grunt in response and then sigh, “Fine. Please come up to my office the minute you walk in.” And then he hung up. That was it.

And of course, you half expected such a response. He gave you little indication of his opinion on you being late. You just hoped he didn’t hold it against you on your first day. It had genuinely been out of your hands. But then again, you being at the house with him on subsequent mornings would mean that being late in this way wouldn’t happen ever again.

When you parked at the front of the house you finagled your suitcase out of the backseat and lugged it up the front steps just as the door opened, “Good morning, Miss. Can I bring this to your room for you?” An older man stood with a smile as he scooped your suitcase away from you.

“Oh. Uh… Okay. Are you sure?” You followed him inside.

“Absolutely. Mr. Styles is expecting you right away.”

You swallowed and watched the man walk away as you took a breath. Your first day working for Harry Styles. Possibly also your last, depending on how everything went.

You climbed the stairs toward his study and knocked twice before pushing the door open gently.

“Come and sit.” He spoke right away. He didn’t even glance your way as he continued typing at his computer when he spoke.

You sat in the same chair you had the day previous and waited for him to finish whatever he was doing.

He cleared his throat and squinted at his computer screen, “I’m an art dealer as I mentioned yesterday. But… it’s more complicated than that sometimes. I deal in art and cultural artifacts that can sometimes be a bit…” he looked at you, “morally grey in the way they are handled. It’s rare but I do occasionally have opportunities and come across certain pieces when a collector is willing to pay an exorbitant finder’s fee for the item.”

“Morally grey. Which means illegal.” You corrected, keeping your eyes on him.

He shook his head, “No. Nothing I do is illegal. Some take issue with some of the items I procure and where they come from, but ultimately, everything I do is technically legal.”

You nodded. You didn’t know what he meant exactly. But you assumed you’d be finding out soon enough.

After Harry explained in detail your schedule from day to day, he had Lucio give you a quick tour of the parts of the house you didn’t see the day before. He even had a binder with your tentative weekly schedule, important numbers to have on hand, addresses, passcodes, a new laptop, and passwords to his login details for various online accounts. He also handed you a credit card, “You’ll make all your own arrangements as well as mine. The limit on this card will cover the cost of flights and accommodations. You and I will be traveling frequently, as I mentioned yesterday.”

Your morning was filled with short bursts of Harry giving you information and what to expect, but half of that consisted of you waiting while he spoke on the phone and typed out emails. You couldn’t imagine why an art dealer would be as busy as seemed to be. Clearly, he was making lots of money so there was no doubt that he was busy with clients. But why?

You researched the ins and outs of being an art dealer the evening before, once Brandy’s Uber arrived to take her home. The typical art dealer did not make the kind of money you knew Harry had. Most also typically worked through auctions, galleries, and museums. Harry seemed to be his own entity doing deals as an individual.  So you knew he wasn’t typical in his field.

At lunchtime you were hungry. You’d eaten something small before dashing to your car that morning but that had long been digested.

“Mr. Styles?” You looked at him from your spot in your chair as you closed your new laptop.

He looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s lunchtime for me. I was hoping I could get something to eat if that’s okay? You should probably also eat. I can bring you something if you take your lunch up here.” You honestly couldn’t have cared less if he ate, but you were so used to making sure Alfred ate that asking Harry was automatic.

Harry’s brows scrunched together and he looked at his computer screen, “Hadn’t realized the time. Sure. Feel free to make something for yourself or you can ask Carl to. I’d like a vegan cassoulet.”

You stood and looked at him in confusion, “A vegan… what?”

“A vegan cassoulet,” He pronounced the word obnoxiously, “Carl will know what I want. Just tell him.”

You repeated the word to yourself. Cas ooo lay – cas ooo lay… You thought it sounded like one of those French dishes you’d never ventured to try.

In the kitchen, you found Carl right away and told him what Harry wanted.

“And what for you?” He began to pull out pans and got to work right away.

“I can manage. I think just a sandwich. Is everything here in the fridge?” You opened up the door and immediately were overwhelmed by the amount of groceries and items packaged inside. The fridge itself was state-of-the-art. Everything in the kitchen was.

Carl laughed and stepped up behind you, “You can find everything you might need in this kitchen yes. But perhaps we’ll leave the cooking to me today, just until you get used to where everything is. What kind of sandwich would you like?”

“Oh. Maybe that’s a good idea. You don’t mind?”

Shaking his head, Carl reached passed you to pull out some vegetables, “Not at all. This is what I do. How about a French bread panini? I can slice up some turkey and Swiss, load it with vegetables? Or maybe you’d prefer grilled chicken and pesto? Egg salad? Or are you vegetarian?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I’m definitely not vegetarian. And the first one sounds fine. Turkey and Swiss panini. Any veggies you put on it will be good. I just don’t like mayo.”

It was wild to be having lunch made for yourself by a professional private chef. And Harry’s cassoulet looked divine but after googling it you learned it’s usually made with various kinds of meat and that the duck confit is what makes the dish. But since his version was supposedly vegan, you couldn’t imagine it tasting anything like it was probably supposed to.

You also learned that Carl wasn’t just a personal chef. He also did all the grocery shopping.

After lunch, your belongings arrived. The movers placed everything in your new bedroom and handed you the key to your apartment before they left.

“This is it?” Harry asked standing in the doorway as he looked around at the boxes and bags you’d had delivered.

“Yeah. I don’t have much I need to keep here. You’ve got the room fully furnished. Just my clothes and essentials.” You shrugged as you opened up the box near the bed.

You could feel Harry’s eyes on you as you dug into the box and pulled out your potted Pothos plant. “What?” You looked at him as you placed the plant on the floor.

“Nothing. Um,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I think it’s a good stopping point today. We’ve got you set up on everything so you can unpack and relax. Normally our days will be longer but since it’s your first…” he put both arms down by his side and stopped fidgeting, “It’s good for today. And like I said earlier, you are free to watch TV in the main room downstairs or get anything from the kitchen you need at all. You don’t need to just stay in your room all night unless you choose to.”

You squinted at him, wondering if there was some kind of catch. He was rather pleasant, you had to admit. After you both got everything out of the way the day before things had been fine. Normal even. But you still had to keep your guard up around him. And all it took to remember who you were dealing with was what he’d done that night.

You decided against going downstairs to watch TV. Maybe you’d feel comfortable enough to do that later on but that night, it felt nice to take a long bath and listen to music and then curl up on your soft, silky bed with your laptop and Netflix.

Though you did get thirsty. And a bit hungry around 8. So you ventured down and hoped to not run into anyone.

Except of course, you ran into someone. When you entered the kitchen you saw Harry standing in front of the refrigerator looking in. Apparently, he had the same idea as you.

You cleared your throat and Harry turned to see you there, “Oh, hey.” He closed the fridge and faced you, “Need something?”

You nodded and stepped toward the pantry, “A little hungry and thirsty. Is it okay?”

“Of course it is. Help yourself to whatever. I was just about to make some pasta. Something simple. Would you like some?”

“Yeah. I can help you make it. What do we need?” You neared the fridge and opened it up, pulling out a glass pitcher of water.

Harry ran down the list of ingredients, which weren’t many, and you helped him slice garlic while he boiled the pasta and poured a can of San Marzano tomatoes into a small pot.

Everything came together quickly and you both sat at the island to eat the late-night meal together.

“Tomorrow we’ll book a trip to Vancouver. Someone has a few pieces I’d love to see in person.” Harry explained what to expect on the trip as you listened.

Then you got to talking about your parents and then college. Harry shared a little about himself but it wasn’t much. You didn’t expect that he would, but he did tell you about his mom and sister. You could tell how important they were to him just by the way he spoke. It made you feel warm toward him in a way knowing that he cared about people other than himself. Something you hadn’t been sure about as he seemed so cold.

When you were both done you tried to help him clean up, “You don’t have to do this, Y/n. I’ve got a housekeeper who will be here in the morning. Why don’t you go to bed?”

“Are you sure? Are you headed to bed?” You asked as you placed the forks into the sink.

He nodded, “Yeah. Time to call it a night.”

“Do you always go to bed this early,” you grinned as you refilled your water to bring it with you to your room.

He raised his brows, “Yeah. I get up at 4:30 in the morning to start my day so 9:30 or 10 is about when I go to bed.”

You cringed to yourself. 4:30 in the morning? That sounded like hell.

You both went your separate ways as you bid Harry good night.

.           .           .

You had a busy morning. You booked a trip for the following week to Vancouver for yourself and Harry. Two nights at The Four Seasons (2 separate rooms, connected), first-class airline tickets, a reservation for the 2nd evening at a nice restaurant for four people, an on-call driver for the whole visit, and set-up details with someone’s assistant named Lana for the meeting.

Harry wanted everything to be perfect so you had to work at extracting as much information from Lana as possible. At first, Lana sent you an itinerary that was rather simple and would have most people feeling good about the meeting. But Harry took one look at it and knew he needed more information. So you spent the majority of your morning speaking with the young woman and filling in details that appeared to be missing.

“This is excellent, Y/n,” Harry looked up at you as he stood from his desk. The itinerary and all the bookings were taken care of. “I’m leaving to take care of something personal. You can have the rest of the day off. Thank you.”

You felt pleased. So far, working for Harry hadn’t been all that bad. He was picky and hard to please but you could handle him. You just hoped that the momentum you two had would continue into the weeks ahead.

.           .           .

You met Brandy out at your favorite club. You wore a cute black dress and black booties and your black leather jacket.

“Oh damn, girl! You look good!” Brandy called to you when she spotted you through the crowd.

“I can’t stay all night! I have to work in the morning, so I stop at 2 drinks!” You spoke loudly so Brandy could hear.

Brandy’s side eye told you that your friend would be trying to get you to enjoy yourself for longer. But you couldn’t. The last thing you wanted to do was to be on Harry’s bad side and be hungover the next morning.

But, Brandy was convincing. Too convincing at times.

Four martinis in and you were painfully aware that you wouldn’t be driving back. You’d need an Uber and that kind of sucked because Harry would know when your car wasn’t there. But… since you’d already need to Uber and you were already out, you had a fifth martini and danced with Brandy and forgot all about your promise to yourself.

The night grew blurry and you couldn’t stop talking about your boss.

“He’s so put together too,” you slurred as you and Brandy leaned into one another, too drunk to dance or drink anymore.

“I know. You keep saying that. And how big his cock was,” Brandy laughed and you pushed her, causing her to stumble back dramatically so you reached out to steady her but wound up falling with her to the floor in a fit of laughter.

Yeah, you’d gotten sloppy drunk.

“I need to go,” you pushed yourself up to stand as you reached for your cell phone. You could hardly see straight, and pulling up the Uber app was simply not going to work. Instead, you called the second to last person you’d texted, Harry. You really hadn’t put much thought into it.

He answered the line and you pushed your way toward the front of the club to go outside, dragging Brandy with you, “Harry!” You howled loudly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at Club Yega. Can you pretty please come pick me up? I’m so drunk.” Your voice was scratchy and your words were watery.

Once you got outside you repeated your question, unable to hear what Harry had responded to you.

“Okay. Just wait for me outside. Is there anyone with you?” He sounded concerned.

“Brandy is here and the security guy standing by the door,” you said matter-of-factly before hiccupping.

Harry told you he’d be there soon and Brandy wobbled into your side as she used one eyeball to call an Uber for herself.

You were unable to recall how long it took for Harry to arrive, or when Brandy had gotten into her Uber and left but when you saw him, he was standing over you with his hand out, “Up you get,” he grasped your hand and helped you stand up. You’d been sitting on the sidewalk.

“Should be more responsible,” Harry chided you as he helped you to his running car, “No one’s watching over you. Where’s this friend you had with you?”

“She was here I promise but her Uber came to get her,” you stumbled into his car and plopped down into the seat with an umph!

Harry looked back at the front door security person and nodded to him as he rounded the car and got inside.

“Harry, I’m sorry. I was going to only have 2 drinks. Swear.”

“It happens. But you should have called me sooner. Don’t like that you were sitting out there alone like that. It’s late. And we have an early day tomorrow.”

You turned to look at him as he pulled into the street and reached a hand up to the curl that covered the top of his ear, “You’re so pretty. Which is weird because you’re such a fucking dick.”

Harry shook his head and laughed to himself as he kept his eyes on the road.

“I’m serious. You’re too pretty for it to be real. Your voice even.” You croaked.

Harry glanced at you quickly, “Oh yeah?” His grin widened. He knew the alcohol was talking but he certainly didn’t mind hearing your thoughts about him while you were inebriated.

“Yeah,” you lowered your finger to his shoulder and then poked at his bicep before dropping your hand back into your lap, “Nice everything. Except you’re not actually nice are you?” You let out a garbled laugh and closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey… Come on. You’re drunk. Just close your eyes and we’ll be home soon.”

You shook your head and looked back at him, “Bossy too. But it sucks because it was so good that night. God I still think about it… and then I remember how you kicked me out like I was filthy. That was mean. Hurt my feelings.”

Harry sighed and stayed quiet. He was not going to engage in this kind of conversation with you while you were drunk. He was sure you wouldn’t remember any of it anyway.

But you didn’t stop there, “I wish I could stop thinking about it, though. S’not fair.”

Harry kept his eyes on the road and listened.

“The way you sounded when you were coming. I keep hearing it,” you squeezed your thighs together and looked out the window with a soft sigh. “Never had it like that before. But fuck you.”

Harry swallowed and blinked his eyes. He was a little surprised by your drunk confession. He liked that you thought fondly of some aspects of that night. Clearly you had enjoyed the sex. But to hear you saying how your feelings were hurt and that you were still angry about it all?

He looked over at you and down to your thigh where your dress had ridden up quickly before looking back at the road. He still refused to engage in this. You were drunk. Very much so.

“And your hands, Harry…” you reached over to brush your fingers over the back of his hand that was gripped on the steering wheel, “Oh god…” you breathed your words, “Your fingers. How good you are with them,” you bit your lip and leaned your head back into the leather seat and closed your eyes. “But still fuck you.”

When you were silent for a few minutes Harry looked over at you and noticed you were asleep.

He was glad you’d stopped staying the things you were. Your words had him confused. You were going from hot to cold fast. But he knew you wouldn’t ever reveal such things to him if you hadn’t been so far gone.

Waking you up gently, he put his arms under yours to help you out of his car, “We’re home, Y/n. Let’s get you up to bed.”

You were able to use your legs, but things were spinning. You clung tightly to Harry as he slowly brought you upstairs to your room.

When your bottom hit your mattress you laid back and sighed, “I might throw up,” you said.

Harry laughed quietly and shook his head as he helped you out of your shoes. He knelt down and unzipped the leather to pull each one off. He didn’t intend to let his eyes wander over your legs and your thighs, but your dress had gotten bunched up so he could practically see your panties. And then they were fully on view when you scooted yourself into your bed further.

Harry leaned over you and pulled your blankets up over your body, “I’ll be right back with water.”

He couldn’t believe how adorable he thought you were. Even though you were still angry at him over what he’d done he liked the sass a little. He was definitely attracted to you. There was no doubt in his mind about that. He tried not thinking about that night with you but after you’d brought it up he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in thoughts of the way you felt and how wet you got for him. Your body, your voice… You were good with your hands too, he smiled remembering your comment about how you liked his hands. But of course, the smile fell from his face when he remembered how the night ended. How shitty he’d been. But now things were too complicated and he wasn’t sure that any kind of apology would ever be enough.

When he got back to your room you were asleep. Out cold. He placed the water on your nightstand and brushed his fingers along your forehead. You were cute.

He plugged in your cell phone and smiled at your sleeping face.

“Good night, pretty girl,” he whispered as he turned off the lamp next to you before leaving the room and closing the door behind himself.

Part 3

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[sundayiminlove]

sleep, pretty darling [ dallas winston x f!reader ]

synopsis : you're overworking yourself with studying in preparation for exams, and dally isn't havin' it. contains : academic overachiever reader, whipped dallas winston, mostly just tooth-rotting fluff, notes : first writing post on here, kinda (very) nervous!! think i'm gonna make a point to write for each greaser in effort to shoehorn my way into outsiders tumblr?? yeah??? okay, GREAT. 99% chance i post something different for dal tho. just a messy, silly little drabble. ironically wrote after not sleeping for 32 hours. i'm sorry if he's a lil ooc y'all, this is my first dal fic in give or take a year!!! he'll get there, i promise! mwah mwah hope u enjoy warnings : not proofread, we die like dally

i.

PALE BLUE EYES slant sideways, casting a brief look at you.

Your nose is scrunched in concentration over the comically large textbook laid open in your lap. You're hunched over, tracing under each printed word with your finger, thumbing down when you stop to take a note.

Dallas is preemptively annoyed. He's been leaning expectantly against the doorframe circa ten seconds ago, and you're yet to notice him. He takes one last dramatic drag from his cigarette before begrudgingly discarding it on the outsole of his shoe. The creases on on your nose tighten as you catch a whiff of the wafting smoke. Though a vehement anti-smoker yourself, you've spent enough time around the gang to guarantee your lungs at least a permanent char. Despite this, you always just have to make a big song and dance of your distaste for them, and Dally does nothing to curb the quirk of his lips into a slight grin.

You have him, hook line and sinker.

"(Y/N)," he speaks at last. His tone is firm yet without underlying aggression; one exclusively for your ears.

You perk up.

Dallas' fingers splay against his lips as if holding a phantom cigarette. "What're you doin' over here so late, huh? Was out lookin' for you."

He watches as your gaze darts to the window. Nightfall has long since kissed the apex of Tulsa, yet you hadn't a clue. You'd been there for hours, crunching equations and fruitlessly jotting down formulas. The encroaching weight of finals week had rendered both your circadian rhythm and measure of passing time nugatory.

"Borrowin' one of Darry's old textbooks," you explain, the corners of your mouth tugging into a frown. "Not exactly a monastery but it beats that old Soc-infested library, long as Two stays gone, that is."

He crosses the Curtis' living room in four smooth strides, plopping down next to you on the couch. The flimsy cushion sinks beneath him, forcing you closer to him, and for once, Dally's grateful for the pathetic old thing's lack of structural integrity.

He lifts the textbook, ignoring your whimper of protest and sets it on the coffee table. He spins the silver band on his knuckle, averting his gaze downwards. "You know, sweetheart," he pauses, choosing his words. Dally wears his worry uniquely, sparingly. "I'm not particularly likin' all of these.. these books, and.." he trails off, thumb tracing your newly-formed eyebag as if he could swipe it clean. "When's the last time you got any sleep?"

Things are different. You're his girl now. And not just his pretty skirt for the night and until 7am after; no, this is serious. You're his girlfriend. His lover. It's foreign. It's enthralling.

No one had told poor Dallas that falling for you would unwind a deep vortex in his brain that noticed the trivial things, like how suspiciously little you blinked or how the vibrant pink in your cheeks had drained.

You lean into his touch with an exasperated sigh. "Dally, c'mon, don't you start this. I know it's nothin' to you, but it's finals week!" you huff. "I'll catch up on the sleep, swear it! I just, I got so much left to do here, and,"

Your defense falls on deaf ears. This has been it for weeks now; and the you-sized hole burning in his chest is only getting deeper. Dally's arms encircle your waist as he taps gently on the small of your back. "Don't give me that," he sighs. "God, baby, you're worryin' me, alright? Don't like seeing my girl so..." he fans his hand outwards.

As you tense and start to fly into another excuse, he shakes his head, mind already made. He's sparing no more of your attention. "You're comin' back to Buck's with me, alright?" His timbre leaves no room for argument, but you squirm regardless. His grip on you tightens. "And I'm making sure you get some goddamn rest."

You pout, looking over at your textbook as if it would personify and save you. "But," you start, only to be hastily shushed.

"But nothin', doll. C'mon, up ya go,"

With that, he scoops you up, one arm hooking around your legs. Your series of half-hearted protests are nullified as he secures you into Buck's old truck, movements careful yet hasty. You inevitably surrender, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean back into the torn leather.

BUCK MERRIL'S HOUSE is as quiet as Buck Merril's house is capable of being. You've never been to Buck Merril's house, so you don't find it very quiet at all.

Running his hands over the blanket, Dallas spreads it out on the floor, smoothening out the crinkles and corners. They reform almost immediately and he sighs heavily, airing it out on the pummeled mattress in defeat. If he would have know he'd be conducting a full-scale kidnapping for the sake of your rest, he might have better prepared. Might have.

So, here's the thing, right?"

There have been girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been quite a few girls in Dallas Winston's bed before.

There have been zero girls in Dallas Winston's bed that he didn't bring into it with meaningless sex on the horizons.

You're no snob and he knows this, but now, it's the principle. Dallas Winston may sleep on a mattress deficient of ample springs and no top sheet, but Dallas Winston's girl should never. In spite his hazy, rose-colored, Y/N-centric world created under this roof, he knows he has to step it up.

As soon as he hears the faucet cut off, he's off his feet. He flings himself onto the mattress, hitching one leg up as he awaits the slow creek of the door.

And there you stand.

Dallas wonders what karmic debt is being paid off for him to deserve to see you like this. His lips part as he drinks in the sight of you like a man dying of thirst. You, in his lightly wrinkled grey tee that scarcely conceals your bare thighs. Your face glistens with renew, a few stray droplets racing down your forehead and cheeks. Even trammeled by exhaustion, you knock the wind right out of him.

You wear the moonlight beautifully. It traces each feature so delicately as you sit beside him on the bed. "I'm—," you start, but pause to let a little yawn. He practically melts beside you.

"I'm sorry I gave you such a tough time, darlin'," you continue, situating under the blanket. "You were right, I'm proper beat."

He smirks, propping his head up to look down on you. "As always," he notes, tucking a fly-away hair behind your ears. You roll your eyes and give him a playful jab, to which he winces in mock affliction. "Some nerve," he hums, thumb tracing your cheek.

You look at him, lips parting gently. This isn't Dallas Winston; that infamous, no-good hoodlum from the wrong side of the tracks. This is your Dally, someone you alone have the absolute pleasure of knowing.

"That's it," he whispers as you surrender to his side, nuzzling his neck. Your eyes are heavy, faltering by the second, yet your grip on him is unyielding. He's never felt a thing like this before, and he's quickly becoming putty in your careful arms. He's content to lay awake all night, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as slumber claims you.

His gangly fingers trace idly on your back, and he knows. He will never be the same.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

I seriously love the post you made about insomnia!s/o! Could you do the same prompt but with Ayaka, Edelgard (3H), Laura (cold steel), and Shenhe?

Hugging their S/O to sleep

Genshin Impact: Ayaka, Clorinde, Arlecchino, Shenhe FE3H: Edelgard, Dorothea, Constance ToCS: Laura, Towa, Elliot

First post in question

Man, I really need to start writing for the other fandoms again on this blog.

Ayaka must have been lucky, the only way to stave off S/O's habit of not sleeping was to be cuddled close into them.

Ayaka has zero issue in helping her S/O sleep, especially in such an intimate manner.

Though her face is flushing red, she still can't help but let her smile go ear to ear, hugging S/O close.

She nuzzles her head underneath their chin, listening to their heartbeat and not wanting to miss a single beat.

(Ayaka) "Good night, my love.~"

Clorinde can't help but hesitate whenever S/O gives her a hug, being unused to such intimacy.

But it doesn't take long for her to enjoy the feeling of their warmth, though her hands are usually gently caressing theirs instead of any grandiose display of affection.

And when she learned that S/O slept better when she held them, Clorinde decided that her embarrassment was a small price to pay for her love.

Making sure to not smother them they were comfortable, she lets their head rest on her chest as she sighs in content.

(Clorinde) "Sleep well, S/O. And...should you need me to move, please let me know."

Arlecchino usually had no trouble sleeping herself, but S/O did.

At first she was half tempted to wish them luck in falling asleep and leaving them be, but she wasn't that cruel.

Usually.

She can't always be home for S/O to hold them, but she indulges them whenever she is, still unused to this kind of intimacy from...well, anyone.

Her grip is tight, as her blackened fingers ruffle the back of their head, holding them close to her.

(Arlecchino) "I cannot guarantee that your dreams will be entirely pleasant near me but...I wish you a good night regardless, S/O."

Shenhe nearly crushes S/O's ribcage when she learned that they slept better with her nearby.

The tighter she hugged, meant the better they slept, right?

She lets go and makes sure she didn't cut off their blood circulation and nods to herself.

Shenhe still holds S/O tight, but makes sure they could at least breathe. This was something she both enjoyed and had zero issue in helping.

(Shenhe) "Let me know immediately if you need to breathe."

Edelgard's hugging strength is pretty damn strong anyways, but especially at night.

The nightmares still haunt her even so many years later, and even as Emperor.

Yet, when S/O was so close, the nightmares ceased.

At least in private, Edelgard doesn't hesitate to hug S/O tightly, breathing easy.

For now, she could just enjoy this moment and not have to think about her duties. Just her lover.

(Edelgard) "...Thank you, S/O."

Dorothea is openly affectionate with everything, including hugs.

And it absolutely warmed her heart to know that even that simple act could make S/O sleep with ease.

Zero hesitation and worry, Dorothea gladly takes S/O into her arms as she lays down on the bed, humming a tune to herself in a psuedo-lullaby.

Though, she expects the same to be done for her. If she pampered S/O like this, then it's only right they did the same for their darling singer.

(Dorothea) "Good night, my dear.~"

Constance scoffs at any notion of such affection displayed so easily!

She absolutely was not embarrassed that S/O felt comfortable by her hugs, dispel that thought!

After all, such effects were only natural when receiving it from a Nuvelle!

Pompousness aside, the blush that creeps onto her cheeks are always burning bright whenever S/O falls asleep thanks to her hold, making her mutter something under her breath.

(Constance) "...I hope I'm at least comfortable for you, S/O...N-NOTHING! I SAID NOTHING! RETURN TO SLUMBER!"

Laura is always at risk of snapping S/O like a toothpick with her hugs, but luckily she knows how to control her strength.

It makes her heart skip a beat whenever S/O got close to her in general, but doubly so when they shared a bed.

And whenever she hugged them, it never failed to make her smile to see how quickly they fall asleep thanks to her.

Especially with how tightly she was being hugged as well.

(Laura) "Hm, sweet dreams, S/O."

Towa pouts for a moment since she was supposed to be the one providing the hugs, yet here she was, completely engulfed by S/O's arms.

She's hugging them as tightly as she can, yet she felt like it was nothing compared to S/O's own vice grip.

With her head barely coming up to their chest, she pouts to herself in the darkness.

(Towa) sigh "I feel like a teddy bear right now..."

Elliot is a little nervous sharing a bed with his S/O, especially knowing they struggled to sleep easily.

But it quickly fades when he notices that his presence helps them fall asleep, doubly so when he hugs them.

His cheeks warm up but he can't help but let out a soft chuckle and hugs them with his hesitation quickly rocketing away.

Making sure his hair wasn't getting into their face, Elliot holds S/O's waist closer to him, resting his head against theirs.

(Elliot) "You're really cute, S/O..."

[toournextadventure]

movie night pt iii

Summary: Third time's a charm, and you finally get Tara. Well. You kind of get Tara.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: swearing, smut (cunnilingus, fingering), mention of scars, vague gun mention, violence Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader (pt.i) (pt.ii) (pt.iii) (pt.iv) (pt.v) (pt.vi) (pt.vii) (pt.viii)

“Come on, Danny, help me out,” you pleaded as you continued to peel potatoes as aggressively as you possibly could.

Danny sighed and placed the ladle down before leaning his hip against the counter. You knew he wasn’t in the mood to put up with your shit, but you didn’t care. He was supposed to be helping you! If he hadn’t wanted to help you for the rest of your lives then he wouldn’t have given you a place to stay when your last roommate got you both evicted.

“I can’t help you plan a date,” he said with another sigh. “That’s up to you.”

“I helped you with Sam,” you said, pointing the knife at him menacingly. Okay, maybe not so menacing, but you pointed it at him anyway. “The least you can do is help me with her sister.”

“I’m not having you ruin my chances with Samantha,” he said with a raised brow. “If you want to get laid, figure it out on your own.”

“Not once did I mention getting laid,” you grumbled as you quickly went back to peeling.

The kitchen went silent once again as you both continued your predetermined duties. Although you had the itching desire to toss a few potato peels at Danny for refusing to help you. You had helped him so many times in his attempts to win Sam over, and this was how he repaid you? By making you work for it?

It was downright rude and un-American.

“I’m inviting Sam over on Friday night,” Danny said when you finished dumping the pathetically diced potatoes in the pot.

“Stop rubbing it in,” you said.

“I’m not,” he said quickly. “I’m giving you a time you can do something with Tara.”

You looked at him with an expressionless face. What was that supposed to mean? He couldn’t just tell you things like this without giving you context beforehand. What did him inviting Sam over have to do with you doing something with Tara? Nothing, that’s what. Why couldn’t he just-

“-Without getting caught?” He said.

Ohhh.

“You’re a genius, you know,” you said with a smile.

“I know,” he said with a pat on your shoulder.

It didn’t take long after that night to get a hold of Tara and tell her of your fantastic, unstoppable, irresistible plan.

“Absolutely not,” Tara said with a shake of her head.

“I promise you Sam won’t even know,” you insisted. “I’ll be like a thief in the night.”

“That’s not as cool as you think it is,” she said with a single raised brow.

“I never said I was cool,” you said with a dismissive wave of your hand. “Just let me come over on Friday.”

“And what are you going to do if Sam catches you?” Tara asked as she came to a stop at the corner of the street. “I don’t think she’ll be so nice a second time.”

“She won’t catch me,” you said with a shrug. “And if she does then she can go all Loomis on me.”

Tara gave you the most unimpressed look you thought you had ever seen in your life.

“This is why she hates you,” she said.

“And she thinks I’ll get us killed,” you pointed out.

“You do know you’re not making your point, right?”

“Just say yes!” You practically whined, even going so far as to stomp your foot like a petulant child for good measure.

“Fine,” Tara huffed. “You can come over on Friday.”

“Yay,” you said in a surprisingly normal tone with a little smile. “It’s a date.”

“Not a date,” she defended before starting to walk away. “And stop being weird about it!”

“See you soon, bestie!” You called out, laughing to yourself when you saw Tara’s tiny hand raise just enough to flip you off over her shoulder.

Friday evening simultaneously came too soon, and not soon enough. You had gotten all the ingredients you would need, Quinn had agreed to stay out for the night, and you were more than prepared. Physically, at least. But mentally, you were a wreck. It was a guaranteed night alone with Tara, but what if she didn’t actually like you all that much? What if it was too much alone time and she realised just how incredibly annoying you were?

What if Sam was right about hating you?

Oh god, Sam was probably right.

No, you shook the thoughts out of your head when you approached the stairwell to Tara’s apartment. It was 15 minutes after Danny was supposed to gather Sam, so there was little chance of getting caught. All you had to do was get to the apartment, have the perfect date (again), and get the girl.

You got this in the bag.

“Why do you look so focused?”

Your smile fell when the door opened before you could knock. Tara was standing in the doorway in the shirt she had stolen from you just the other week. Just like that day, she looked stunning. The shirt hung just a little too low and was just a little too big and oh. Oh, maybe you just liked seeing her in your clothes.

Oh no.

“Are you gonna come in, or just stand there looking like an idiot?” Tara asked, drawing you out of the staring that you had inevitably been doing.

“Obviously I’m coming in,” you said as you rolled your shoulders back and pushed past her into the apartment. “You want dinner, don’t you?”

“I’m not sure I trust you to cook,” she said before you heard the door close behind you.

You dropped your bag on the kitchen floor. “I’m a phenomenal cook, just you wait and see.”

“As long as it’s better than your movie taste,” she said when she plopped herself into the chair at the table.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a brat?” You asked, turning around from your unpacking just long enough to meet her eyes. Her stunning, hypnotising eyes. Focus!

“You, actually,” she said with a shrug. A nonchalant shrug that would have been believed if you didn’t see the slightest crinkle at the corner of her eyes.

“Just for that, I’m poisoning your food,” you said as you very nearly pointed the knife at her. But the way her eyes darted to the knife then back at you had you reconsidering. You gave her a soft smile instead and turned back to the counter.

Conversation flowed easily while you prepped and cooked. Mostly about movies, occasionally about school, even more rarely about life outside both of those topics. At one point Tara even went and grabbed her laptop to put on one of her new favourites; something called Pearl. Just the start of it told you it wasn’t going to be your favourite but the excitement on her face as she watched it was more than enough for you.

“Here,” you said softly before placing a plate in front of Tara, who was very much still into the movie. She looked up at you and gave you a quiet “thank you” before looking back down at the movie.

It didn’t take much longer before the end credits started to roll and Tara sat back in her chair with a smug grin. She had barely picked at her food and looked like she was about to prove something. About the movie, about your cooking, about you. Though you didn’t really care because the absolute relaxation on her face was worth every moment of your life.

“What did you think?” She asked, finally looking at you with that half-smirk that she did when she was feeling a little too confident.

“It was good,” you bluffed. Effortlessly, you might add.

“Oh yeah?” You nodded. “Then what was your favourite part?” Fuck. “The part with the scarecrow, or the gunfight?”

Okay, maybe she was calling your bluff. Maybe you hadn’t paid attention to the movie even in the slightest. All you knew was it was a horror movie, and that was only because it was almost the only genre Tara watched. But you could be forgiven for not paying attention when she was right there looking like a complete snack. Fuck a snack, she looked like the whole damn meal!

Time to make a choice.

“Definitely the gunfight,” you said with a decisive nod.

“Really?” She asked with a tilt of her head.

“Y- uh, yeah,” you nodded again. Too many times, in fact. “It was hella dope.”

“Hella dope, huh?” Tara asked, now with raised brows.

She stared at you, searching through your very soul for what, you had no idea. And for a moment you thought you could see into hers. See through those dark brown eyes and into the trauma and love that she undoubtedly was desperate to show. But the longer she stared, the more your skin started to crawl, and you bit your bottom lip for a second before breaking eye contact.

“There was no gunfight, was there?”

“Oh absolutely not.”

“I can explain.”

“Lay it on me.”

You opened your mouth to tell her some bullshit excuse; why would you openly admit you were too busy staring at her instead of the movie? That she was the reason you hadn’t even cooked properly, because you were so entranced by everything about her. The way she leaned forward at the good parts, or the scrunch of her nose when there was excessive gore, or her eyes darting back and forth across the screen. It would be so much simpler just to tell her you didn’t care for the movie because it was subpar and the score was mediocre.

But then she lifted her hand to rest her chin on it, and you caught sight of the scar on her hand, and your mind started racing. She had been so hesitant to let you see any part of her because, and this was your assumption, of the scars she had. You knew she had them, she was painfully aware, but that didn’t mean she wanted you to see them. Insecurity, maybe, and yet you were still going to deprive her of something that not only did she probably need to hear, but that you were desperate to tell her?

“I-.” You cleared your throat. “I was thoroughly distracted by how stunning you look.” Tara’s face fell into one of disbelief. “And I liked watching your reactions far more than the movie itself.”

“You’re so full of shit,” she said with a shake of her head and a move to stand up. “If you didn’t like the movie you can just say so.”

“I’m serious,” you defended, quickly following suit and standing up from the table right alongside her. She was already making her way to the living room. “Tara, wait.”

“Tell me you didn’t like it,” she said without turning around, “but don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying- just stop moving.”

You reached out to grab her arm, as gently as you could yet still able to get her to stop moving. It broke your heart when you heard her breath caught in her throat at the move, but she still turned around nonetheless. There was something in the look she was giving you, something both terrified and hopeful.

“I’m not lying,” you said, lifting your hand slowly to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, Tara.”

“You think so?” She asked, her gaze holding your own.

“Yeah,” you said with a small nod and your eyes falling to her slightly parted lips. “Yeah I do.”

“Then show me,” she said softly.

And oh how that look in her eyes could smother you under the weight of everything they were trying to say. But she didn't need to say anything, not when you leaned down and brushed your lips against hers. She wasted no time in pulling you the rest of the way with her arms around your neck; she half tasted of the cheap wine you had brought. The other half tasted of hope.

You let Tara take the lead, pulling you with her until the back of her knees hit the couch and she fell onto it, bringing you with her. The jolt caused your teeth to clack against hers and you both couldn't stop the small laughs from bubbling up. Her hushed laugh fanned across your face and for a moment you weren't on a third attempted date. You were in your own apartment with a movie in the background and half drunk beers on the table as your soul entangled itself with hers.

Tara's hands trailed down from your neck, across your chest and down your stomach until sliding under your shirt, nails lightly raking across your skin to cause a shiver. You could feel her smile against your lips as she did it again, only stopping when you nipped at her bottom lip before kissing her again.

"Take it off," she whispered as she tugged on the bottom of your shirt.

"There's no rush," you said with a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"My shirt always comes off first," she said a little more forcefully. "It's your turn."

"Impatient," you grumbled but still sat up on your knees, practically straddling Tara's small frame.

You could feel her eyes boring into you, watching you with bated breath as you grabbed the back of your shirt and pulled it over your head. It wasn't the sexiest way to undress, closer to the way a frat boy would do it, but it got the job done. Once the shirt was off and in your hands you looked around, at a complete loss of where to put it. It wasn't your apartment, you couldn't just toss it somewhere!

"Just get rid of it already," Tara said, her hands quickly finding their way to your waist.

"I don't want to make a mess," you said with a frown. "I'll fold it, one sec."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I’m ser-"

"-oh my god."

Tara quickly took the shirt from your hand and threw it over the back of the couch. You tried to find where it had landed but felt those small hands on your waist pull you forward, making you lose your balance and fall forward until you were face to face with a smirking Tara once again. God she was irresistible- you meant irritating!

"That's better," she said, her eyes shamelessly trailing over your now exposed body.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," you said with a raised brow.

"The lights are on," she said, a little softer, almost even hesitant.

"Here," you said just as softly, "I'll show mine first."

"What do you-"

Her words fell off as you sat up and twisted enough to show her the scar between your shoulder blades. It wasn't as deep as hers had been, certainly no stab wound, but it was nice and visible. And just showing her at that moment was enough to make you realise that oh, oh that was how she felt about her own.

"What happened?" She asked. You felt her fingers brush lightly against the skin. Unlike hers, there was no feeling in the dead tissue.

"I was at a protest a few years ago and it got violent," you said with a shrug. "Some prick decided to use lethal rounds."

"Holy shit," you heard her whisper as she sat up, her hands still tracing the large area of scar tissue. You couldn't feel it, but just the thought had you shivering under her touch.

"So see?" You said, finally turning back around to look at her now that she was much closer again. "It ain't no thing."

You kept looking at her as you let yourself fall back to the couch, now sitting with your legs tangled with Tara's. She wasn't looking at you, more looking at the spot right beside you, and you started to wonder if you had done the wrong thing. You hadn't been trying to say her injuries and trauma weren't anything significant; they were and you respected it. Fuck, maybe you shouldn't have shown her, you didn't want her to-

-with the utmost hesitancy, her hands fiddled with the hem of her shirt for only a moment before she pulled it over her head, tossing it behind the couch much like she had yours. But instead of just letting you look, she crossed her arms over her stomach and refused to look at you.

“Hey,” you said softly as you reached out to brush your thumb against her bottom lip. Finally she looked at you with wide eyes. “Lay down and close your eyes.”

She opened her mouth to say something - probably to argue - but closed it and nodded once. Her eyes fell closed first before she let herself lean back on the couch, her arms still wrapped around your stomach. You waited until she got herself comfortable before making your move.

With the gentleness of someone holding glass, you lifted Tara’s hands and rested them on the couch. The muscles of her stomach twitched from the lack of warmth and you could see her eyes clench tighter, but she let you do it. You left one hand on hers, turning it around so you could hold it while you finally looked down on her.

She was no less beautiful than you had believed. If anything, she was even more so. Her tanned, lightly freckled skin was soft and unbearably warm under your touch. It was marred only by the myriad of scars littering her body, each one telling a different story. Some frenzied, some shallow, some deep, all of them holding a trauma that you couldn’t ever imagine.

“You’re beautiful,” you whispered more to yourself than to her.

Your eyes were still studying the scars, leaving a mixture of feelings swirling in your gut. A sadness for the trauma inflicted, for the lingering effects that Tara would never be able to get rid of whether she wanted to or not. But also an anger that you knew if you allowed it, would set an inferno in your chest that would grow until you combusted.

Tara squeezed your hand lightly and you quickly looked back up to see her eyes open and focused on you. Her eyes were still wide, but they didn’t look quite so fearful anymore. No, they almost looked curious, maybe even happy if you were going to push it. Why would she look at you like that? Did she still not believe you?

But then her other hand grabbed you by the belt and pulled you forward until you were on top of her again. You barely had time to catch yourself before she pulled you down the last little bit, holding you in a kiss that was different from the others. It wasn’t as desperate or mindless; there was emotion behind it.

“Help me take these off,” Tara mumbled against your lips. You looked down briefly before quickly doing a double take when you saw her pushing her shorts down her hips.

“Wait wait, what about foreplay?” You asked as you locked eyes with her.

“Are you serious?” She asked, her hands stilling in their movements.

“Foreplay is no joking matter, Carpenter,” you said with a raised brow. “It has many uses-”

“-do you want me to get too in my head and stop?” She interrupted you. “Or do you want to fuck me?”

“You’re so bold,” you whispered without a care if she heard you or not.

“Well?”

“This feels like a trick question.”

“Y/N.”

“Okay okay,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you sat up and yanked her shorts past her hips and down her legs. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“You talk way too much,” Tara said as you settled yourself and threw one of her legs over your shoulder. “Has anyone ever- fuck.”

Her eyes fell shut as you instantly licked a single broad strip, adding a bit more pressure once you reached her clit. The hand still holding yours squeezed when you left a few kitten licks on her clit, just testing the waters. If she was going to rush you, then you were going to find out what made her tick. No better time like the present, right?

The slow, broad licks made her let out light, breathy moans. Her body would sink further into the couch and she would almost seem to relax. But then the fast licks on her clit had her thighs shaking and her back arching and her breathing quicken. She wouldn’t moan, but she would tense up and you could almost hear a whine stuck in her throat.

And when you wrapped your lips around her clit and sucked lightly? Oh, now that was what pulled the most delicious sounds from her lips. You did it again, feeling her thighs press against your head and keep you still, when you finally put your free hand to good use. Slowly so as to give her time to push you away or tell you no, you teased a single finger against her entrance.

“Please,” Tara whined, and you looked up to see her eyes still clenched shut and her chest rising and falling with each rapid breath.

“Please what?” You asked. It took everything in you not to laugh when she groaned, a frown suddenly appearing on her face.

“Please just fuck me alre- christ,” she interrupted herself when you slid that single finger inside her.

There was no time to tease her about it, not when you were absolutely mesmerised by the sight of your finger sliding in and out of her, already completely coated in her arousal. Had you really gotten her so worked up? You supposed so, but that didn’t make it any less hypnotising, especially when you could feel just how tight and wet she was.

“Fuck, Tara,” you mumbled as you added a second finger.

“Don’t tease,” she said with a huff.

Well, how could you say no to such a request from such a pretty girl? You continued your movements as you leaned back down, now focusing all your attention on her clit. Those short, targeted licks mixed with the curling of your fingers had her gripping your hand like it was her lifeline. You could vaguely hear some sort of ringing in the background but chalked it down to Tara’s thighs squeezing around your ears.

She was well and thoroughly wound up when you wrapped your lips around her clit again, sucking lightly and flicking your tongue in just the right way to have her thighs shaking. All you had to do was add one more curl of your fingers and she came undone beneath you, a mix of moans, your name, and expletives leaving her mouth as you continued your ministrations, helping her ride out her orgasm for as long as possible.

You waited until her grip on your hand lightened before you stopped, slowly pulling your fingers out of her before licking them clean, doing your best to maintain composure at her taste, which you swore you could get drunk off of. Something rang again, but you still paid it no mind. After all, how could you when the girl of your dreams was underneath you with sweat-coated skin and a blissed out look in her droopy eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, your eyes trailing over her once again.

“Just shut up and-” something rang again, “-Oh my god.” Tara practically pushed you off of her as she rolled over and grabbed her phone off the floor. “What do you want, Sam?”

Oh shit, you thought as you sat up quickly. Did she know you were there? No, she couldn’t, she was supposed to be with Danny and you knew they were fucking. They were both secret horndogs, there was no way they had stopped long enough for Sam to figure out that you were in her apartment.

“Sam, slow down,” Tara said, her brows now furrowed. “What’s going on?”

You looked out the living room window just in time to see Sam and Danny looking in. Fuck. With a sigh, you got up and went to the window, looking out at them and giving them an embarrassed smile. At least you were still covered; that had to count for something, right?

But Sam and Danny didn’t wave back. They were gesturing and shouting and they looked borderline frantic. What were they so worried about? Tara shuffled around and quickly stood beside you, now covered by your shirt that hung just low enough to hide that she wasn’t wearing pants.

“If this is about Y/N being here then I’m not-”

“-behind you!”

You turned around at Sam’s frantic screaming and let out your own yelp as a large, shiny knife sliced through the air. Adrenaline rushed through your body the same as it had that night at the protest, and everything slowed down. You pushed Tara aside, vaguely aware of her tripping over a table as you yourself stepped back, the intruder flailing forward.

He got up and turned around, looking this way and that to find his target. The moment his body turned to face Tara, your mind was only focused on one thing. One thought repeating itself over and over and over. His knife-wielding hand lifted.

You didn’t bother looking around for the best thing to use; you just grabbed the closest thing to you and lifted it above your head. He was taller than you, but that didn’t stop you from bringing it down on his head as hard as possible. The item shattered and he fell back to the ground in a comical fashion.

“Come on,” you said as you darted forward, grabbing Tara by the hand and pulling her along with you.

“Wait, we need to stop him-”

“-Get moving,” you interrupted, throwing her apartment door open and shoving her in front of you.

You didn’t give her the chance to stop as you practically pushed her down the stairs, acutely aware that you didn’t have her inhaler. Surely she would be okay until the police arrived and you could go grab it from her room. What was more important was keeping her alive, out of the apartment, and that lunatic away from her.

“Tara!”

Sam and Danny were already outside when you pushed Tara out of the apartment building, barely noticing her stumble down the stoop until she was safely secure in Sam’s arms. You spun around, tripping on your own feet as you looked at the front door, waiting for someone to come out. You hoped he would; you dared him to.

“Are you okay?” Danny asked, his hand on your shoulder and trying to turn you.

“Was he watching us?” Tara asked, a sob audibly caught in her throat.

“You didn’t answer my calls,” Sam said through her own tears.

He hadn’t come down the stairs yet. There was nowhere else for him to go. He wasn’t going to get away.

“Hey,” Danny said again.

The air tasted metallic.

“Y/N!”

Large hands grabbed you by the shoulders and forced you to turn away from the door, now facing Danny. There was a fear in his eyes that you didn’t think you had ever seen before. Why was he afraid? You had it handled, you were going to kill the fucking bastard and keep Tara safe and-

“-you’re bleeding,” Danny said.

You furrowed your brows at the same time Tara fell silent. No you weren’t, you hadn’t even gotten hurt. It must have been that lunatic’s blood, you had brained him pretty good. He hadn’t even touched you, that was impossible.

But you followed Danny’s eyes and saw a new wound on your bicep, leaking enough blood to signify a decent wound. When had that happened?

“The police and paramedics are on the way,” Sam said as Tara wormed her way out of her arms.

“Are you okay?” Tara asked as she lifted her hands to your arm, stopping just before she touched you.

You met her eyes and felt your heart drop as you saw every emotion known to man cross her eyes. Anger, fear, desperation, worry, a mix of everything. With a slow, deep exhale, you reached out and pulled her into a hug, ignoring the way your bicep screamed at the strain as the adrenaline started to fade and everything came back into focus.

Ghostface had attacked you and Tara in her own apartment.

He was supposed to be dead.

Ghostface had attacked you and Tara.

[random-fandom-tandem]

Mike Schmidt: Dating Headcanons

Because this guy hasn't left my brain since seeing the movie a few days ago, and I finally broke down and had to do something about it.

18+ only

Minors DNI

GN!Reader

Sweet (SFW):

❤️ Can be a bit overprotective at times. Given that he still blames himself for his brother's disappearance, though, it's understandable. While he doesn't admit it out loud, he's uncertain he could handle it if something terrible happened to you too.

❤️ Having grown accustomed to being up at night, due to his recent security job, on the nights he's off and is able to find someone to watch Abby, he'll sometimes invite you for an evening drive. His hand remains on your thigh nearly the entire time, occasionally giving it a gentle squeeze, as you two sit in a comfortable silence, just enjoying the soft music on the radio.

❤️ Is actually pretty lenient when it comes to what is chosen for movie night. He's more happy to just have some needed downtime with you. Also, cuddling during the movie is almost always guaranteed. (Please give him some, the poor man needs it.)

❤️ Got a little annoyed with you one time after you borrowed his walkman and forgot to swap back the cassette tape to his nature sounds one. Cue him getting startled one night when he turned it to help him sleep, only to be greeted with whatever pop or rock idol you had been listening to beforehand. Being that it was an honest mistake, he couldn't stay mad at you...but he never lent you his walkman ever again. (On the flipside, though, he did gift you one of your own for your birthday.)

Spicy (NSFW):

🔥 When it comes to sex, he typically lasts one round, just because he's often so tired, but he tries his best to make sure it counts. Even if he's exhausted, he will try to make up for it with lots of kisses and soft words.

🔥 Exception being when he's extremely pent up or needs to release some frustration after a bad night at work. During those times, you can expect at least 2-3 rounds out of him. He starts out with a rather quiet intensity, focused on just getting rid of that mounted tension, but the volume of his groans increases the closer he gets to finishing.

🔥 On the mornings when he ends up waking up earlier and doesn't have to go anywhere, he actually enjoys sleepy lovemaking. During those times he just wants to hold you close (and/or to be inside you, if applicable) even if you two don't move very much.

🔥 Expanding on an earlier headcanon, car sex is absolutely a thing. He likes the privacy it offers, and will often just park at some abandoned spot where it can just be you and him, with no outside interruptions. He's barely put the car in park before you are straddling his lap, furiously making out with him and rubbing yourself up against his hardening cock. Next thing you both know, hours have passed. Uh, he didn't need to be at work that night...right?

[justwinginglife]

Make A Wish

Guys, it's still Hoshina's bday in my timezone, so bday fic for yall. Also I'm sorry it's a lil sadder than I wanted it to be and I'm sorry it's short. But I swear it's happy lol.

It was 12:00 am, November 21st, and Soshiro was staring at his phone, waiting for your text. 

When you’d first started texting him at midnight on his birthdays, it was the year you’d moved to Korea, the year you’d taken the sun away. It was the year walks in the park went away, the year swims in the river went away, the year stargazing on rooftops went away. It was the year his jackets found themselves back in his closet and the year your scent started to fade. It was the year he walked home alone, ate dinners alone, missed you all alone. When the girl next door became the girl in the next country over, he found everyday became a little grayer with every moment you weren’t by his side. 

But even galaxies apart, he was still your best friend, and you’d close the distance with a text at midnight, letting him know he wasn’t alone, letting him know he was in your thoughts. Sometimes texts would turn into calls and then night would turn into day, and when he thought of facing his birthday without you, he’d miss you more than he ever missed you before.

When you were neighbors, you used to sneak into his bedroom at midnight, trying not to set his curtains on fire while you climbed through his window with one hand cradling a candlelit cupcake and the other reaching out to him for support. Those were the good days. In the dead of the night, while everyone else was asleep, you’d sing him happy birthday as quietly as you could (though it still wasn’t very quiet) and he’d listen to every single note, even as off key as they were, with a smile on his face, memorizing the sound of your voice. Then you’d make him blow out his candle and tell you what he wished for and he’d shake his head laughing at you, and insist that if he told you, it wouldn’t come true. One night, he finally told you his wish: he wished that every birthday could be like this. That every year could be marked with memories of you by his side.

The very next year you moved away and he never told you a wish of his ever again.

That’s when you started texting him. You’d tell him your wishes for him. 

I wish that Soshiro could finally have that dog he’s always wanted.

I wish that Soshiro could grow tall, but not as tall as me, maybe like an inch taller.

I wish that Soshiro would find a hundred dollars lying on the street.

I wish that Soshiro could be happy for the rest of his life.

I wish that I could be by his side to see it.

And on that cold, fall night, every text that lit up his screen made him feel just a little bit warmer every time. 

So every year after that, the tradition continued. Every year, at midnight, he thought of you, and every year, at midnight, you texted him your birthday wishes. You texted him until your hands cramped and your eyes burned. You called him until your throat was dry and your voice hoarse. You wished for him until your head hurt and your heart ached. 

With different schedules and different lives, there was no guarantee you could keep in constant contact, but for at least one day out of the year, for at least one night out of the year, Soshiro was yours. And you weren’t falling asleep until he knew how special he was to you, and you weren’t saying goodbye until you knew he wouldn’t forget you this year. 

But he’d never forget you.

Even now, at 12:01, he thought of you. He thought of you until 12:01 turned into 12:02 and his jittery heart began to jump in his chest. He thought of you until 12:02 turned into 12:03 and his uneasy heart began to pace in his chest. He thought of you until 12:03 turned into 12:04 and his despondent heart began to sink in his chest. And then he wondered if you finally forgot about him. If the chasm had finally grown too wide. If your heart had finally recalled itself. If all you would ever be to him was a wish he whispered to the stars at midnight. 

Then 12:05 hit and there was a knock at the window.

And there you were, disheveled, panting, sweating, holding a cupcake with a flickering candle like your life depended on it.

He watched as you climbed into his room, like you had so many times before, and before he knew it, his arms were around you in an instant. The way he held you was almost as if he was expecting you to turn into stardust in mere seconds if he so much as loosened his grasp, as if you were nothing more than a ghost and he was desperately trying to tether you to this world, to his world. He swore he’d never speak another wish aloud again, but god, did he want to tell you that he wished you could stay. That he wished you’d be his. That he wished when he dreamt of you he’d wake up to you. That he wished when he reached for you he’d find you. That he wished when he loved you, you’d love him too.

But you didn’t cross a sea just to shake his hand, pat his head, and give him a cupcake. You didn’t save every coin that you ever earned, or ever spotted in a crack on the sidewalk, or ever found wedged in between couch cushions, just to give up now. You wanted his midnights but you wanted his middays. You wanted his early mornings and late evenings. You wanted his wishes and his hopes. You wanted his strength and his weakness. You wanted his past and his future. You wanted him.

You were five minutes past twelve, and you were late, but dammit, you’d never make him wait for you ever again.

“Wish again.” You instructed, gesturing to the candle.

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your wish. Tell me again.”

He took a deep breath. “I wish that every year, you could be by my side.” He spoke so softly and blew on the candle so gently that you almost didn’t think it would go out. But it did, and he smiled. “I wish that every year, you could be by my side,” He repeated. 

“Wish granted.”

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[sorchathered]

I can love you through the dark

Pairing- Jake Seresin x OC (Savannah Monroe-Seresin)

Warnings- language, angst, mentions of death, pregnancy, ptsd

Summary- sometimes the past keeps Jake up at night, but she is always there to bring him back from the dark.

A/N- an old WIP I found deep in my Google docs that I thought could use some love. Not beta read.

———————————————————————————-

Jake Seresin had a short fuse. He’d been working on that.

He kept his composure as Rooster threw that cheap shot at him, brushing it off despite the shock all over everyone’s faces by the pool table. “The only place you’ll lead someone is an early grave.” It rang in his ears later that night, Coyote was too damn perceptive as he watched his friend from across the shitty barracks room they were assigned to.

“I’m fine” Jake grunted as he stared at the ceiling, trying to will the thoughts away.

Two years. It’d been two years since his former wingman Torch had lost his life in a field exercise gone wrong. Jake had been cleared of any wrongdoing but he knew; if he’d watched his teammate’s back like he should have Torch would still be alive.

He’d worked his ass off to prove he was the best ever since, and refused to let anyone else in again after that day. Maybe that’s why he was so frustrated with Rooster, he cared too much where Jake refused to care at all. The mission was what mattered now; not making friends. All getting close to someone guaranteed was that you had more to lose, and Jake couldn’t bear to lose anything or anyone else.

“How are things going?” The soft voice filtered through the speaker of his phone as he paced the halls, another night full of nightmares and no sleep.

“It’s going. This is a big one, everyone who’s anyone is here and I worry that they aren’t taking it as serious as they should.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, he shouldn’t be on the phone with her right now, one of them at least needed to get some rest.

“You need to take care of yourself, and try to be a team player-“

He barked out a laugh at that and he could just see her shaking her head and sighing, she knew he couldn’t afford to get close to someone like that again, no one knew better than she did.

“Jake. I need your head in the game. I can’t do this without you, I- I need you to come home ok?” She was crying, he’d promised he’d do everything he could to never make her cry and here she was getting upset over him again.

“Sweetheart I’m not going anywhere, but you need to rest ok? I’ll be good, I’ll be the very best. Take care of yourself and our little angel. I love you Savvy, fuck- I love you so much.”

They said their goodbyes and Jake slept for the first time since he’d gotten back to Miramar.

Savannah “Savvy” Monroe had been Torch’s high school sweetheart, she’d followed him wherever the navy took him until that fateful day when his plane had gone down. She’d always seemed like an unstoppable force until then, and Jake watched one of his best friend’s crumble and turn into a shell of the woman she’d been. It seemed obvious to everyone but him that they would seek solace in each other, no one blamed them for how they chose to stitch themselves back together, and while they started a new life together Jake couldn’t help but struggle with the guilt.

She’d dragged him to therapy after a big fight, he’d walked out her early in their relationship; determined to prove to her that he didn’t deserve her love and push her to hate him as much as he hated himself. 6 months later he’d finally found himself again, only to find out that Savvy was pregnant. He couldn’t help but wish Torch was here, and his therapist told him it was not only normal but expected. He’d made an honest woman out of her quickly after that, life had proven to be too short and they wanted to start their new life with all the bows tied up nice and neat.

When the call came up to head back to top gun they were nearing the 7th month and he wanted her to stay in Texas with his mom where he knew she’d be safe and taken care of. Now he was here and all he wanted was to hold her, especially after Rooster managed to get under his skin. No one really knew that he and Sav were married, except for Javy and his wife and he wanted to keep it that way. Rooster knew Torch would always be a sore spot, and he’d pressed just the right buttons to bring Hangman to the surface. He filed that rage away for the right moment and when the time came he was ruthless, he knew it was wrong to cut Bradshaw down like that but Rooster had thrown the first punch.

When he got reduced to spare and Rooster got promoted to wingman he was almost relieved, he had too much to lose and it was easy to get caught up in the competition. He wanted to be the best, but he had to think of his family.

Mission accomplished and successful, everyone had survived and made it back to Fightertown safely. As he stepped off the carrier he heard her shouting his name and shook his head in disbelief, he should’ve known better than to think her stubborn ass wouldn’t be here waiting for him to return. She couldn’t run bless her heart but she waddled across the lot as fast as she could with a giggle as he scooped her up in his arms, kissing her deeply and then dropping to his knees to talk to his baby boy.

Rooster watched from a distance, realization striking him as he took the scene in. He’d met Torch’s wife before, years ago when they were in flight school. Heat burned his cheeks as he realized that maybe- just maybe he was just as much of an ass as Jake Seresin, and maybe his judgement had been too harsh. Coyote clapped him on the shoulder as he passed, nodding his head in their direction as he watched Jake pepper kisses to her cheeks, he treated her like she were made of glass as he escorted her across the lot to his truck.

“Now you know a little something about Hangman, he wants you to think he’s a pompous ass; but the man couldn’t be more of a marshmallow. I hope to God we never have to live through what they did, don’t you agree?” Javy Machado didn’t wait for an answer, just left Rooster to ponder that thought.

He thought of his mother, broken over the loss of his father and felt a cold chill, he’d find a way to thank Hangman someday, he had saved his life after all.

———————————————————————————-

Tagging- @roosterforme @attapullman @bobgasm @seitmai @sebsxphia @mynameismckenziemae @sailor-aviator

[minarisplaything]

On the Dance Floor ft. NaMo

pairing: Nayeon x Male Reader x Momo rating: T to M-ish range wc: 1.5k warnings: infidelity prompt:

A night out with your girlfriend's "sister" and her friend takes an unexpected turn.

There were certain lines you didn't cross in life. Lines that, even if not legally wrong, were morally pretty fucking bad. And you were sure that sleeping with your girlfriend's older sister was one of them.

In your defense, you hadn't exactly planned on it happening. It was more the culmination of a series of events that had ultimately led you to this point. To crossing the one line you should have never crossed.

It started with your girlfriend Hwang Yeji going out on a world tour with her idol group. From the time it was announced you knew it would mean a lot of time apart from each other. In fact, because of the nature her job you hadn’t even been able to see her off at the airport. Initially you hadn’t thought anything of it. After all, there was facetime and other long-distance ways to stay in contact during the months that she would be gone. However, you soon realized that her absence would be much harder on you then you realized. It also didn’t help that you were operating in completely different timezones.

It was in this downtrodden state that you received a message from Nayeon. An invitation to join her and Momo for a night at the club. It was an invitation that she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“Oh come onnn, you’ve been moody and couped up inside ever since Yeji left,” Nayeon had whined over the phone.

“Hey, hey, I have not been moody. Plus, I go out still. I go to work, don’t I?”

Nayeon rolled her eyes in response to my answer. Something that I could usually hear in her voice but since we were video calling, I could see the expression for myself. Funny enough, it was through Nayeon and Momo that you had been able to meet Yeji. It had been something of a friend of a friend situation. And while you referred to them as Yeji’s older sisters they weren’t actually. It was just a clever way of referring to them as being in the same company as your girlfriend but having worked there longer.

“That’s not healthy,” Nayeon replied before adding, “Plus you’re going to make Momo sad. I already told her you were coming.”

“Why did you do that?!”

Nayeon merely giggled and shrugged in that mischievous way she did. “So, are you coming then?”

You weighed your options for a moment before finally sighing in defeat, “Alright, alright. I’ll come out with you guys.” You really did need a night out to socialize and unwind after all. If nothing else to take your mind off your longing. Besides, a drink or two wouldn’t hurt.

At least that was what you had thought.

As it would turn out one or two quickly became a few. And a few quickly became lost track of. It seemed you had underestimated just how moody – as Nayeon had put it – you had been lately and how much you desperately needed a night out. It helped that Nayeon and Momo were some of the best company you could go out with; together they were like an unstoppable duo that guaranteed a good time no matter what you were doing. In hindsight, though, it was a recipe for disaster.

“I don’t know how she dances like that,” you commented over the music. More to yourself than to the strawberry blonde sitting across from you.

Your eyes were currently locked on Momo as she danced to the music, seemingly in a zone all her own. Make no mistake about it, your girlfriend was also an extremely talented dancer. But something about the way Momo moved was just more mature, even sensual when she rocked her hips a certain way. It was mesmerizing. Well, that and you had reached the sort of mellowed out stage of night in your drinking. What you didn’t notice was that Nayeon had taken note and was already making plans of her own.

“Dance with me!” her voice snapped you from your trance.

Before you could even begin to protest her hand had grabbed yours and was dragging you to the dance floor, stumbling behind her but managing to hold your balance and not embarrass yourself.

“You know I’m not much of a dancer.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve seen the video!”

You could feel your face growing red at that answer. Knowing that the video of you dancing was out there on someone’s phone and was making the rounds – actually it was better not to think about it. Fortunately, as bad as that video was tonight you had Nayeon’s lead to follow. And while Momo was a dancing goddess, Nayeon was no slouch either.

What started as simply vibing with the music, slowly begin to escalate into something more intimate. A body roll here, taking your hand and placing on her hips there. What finally caused your blood pressure to rise was when her arms looped around your neck and she leaned in. So close that you could feel her hot breath against the skin neck. Was this still dancing?

“Nayeon…”

“Are you guys having all the fun without me?”

Momo’s voice at the shell of your ear caused you to snap out of it. However, while you didn’t know it yet, she wasn’t the savior you thought she was.

“We wouldn’t dream of it,” Nayeon replied, pulling back slightly.

At first you were grateful, you didn’t trust your ability to talk without fumbling your words. Had you been of sound mind you might've questioned what exactly having fun without her and Nayeon’s response implied. But truth be told, none of you were exactly acting responsibly.

You soon felt Momo press up against you from behind while Nayeon turned herself around, her back pressed into your chest. Nayeon’s arms reached back, her hands finding Momo’s body. Similarly, Momo’s hands moved around you, settling on Nayeon’s hips. You were effectively trapped and yet you couldn’t help but feel torn about whether that was a bad thing.

“Is this what it’s like to be the meat in a sandwich?”

You only realized that you had spoken your thoughts out loud when you heard laughter fall from the girl’s lips. A flush of embarrassment colored your checks, doing your best to look anywhere but at them.

“Is that your fantasy?” Nayeon teased.

In that moment she arched her back, pressing her ass right into your groin. To make matters worse, you couldn’t stop a moan from leaving your lips when she did. You didn’t want to admit it but between the close proximity, the alcohol, and the three of you dancing; you were undoubtedly horny.

“I think it’s more of a dream,” Momo piled on, her hands still gripping Nayeon’s waist.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about,” you insisted.

“Hmm, is that you’re final answer?” Nayeon asked, a teasing lint in her tone. “Are you sure you haven’t thought about it?”

As Nayeon dragged out her words she rotated her ass deliberately slow, practically torturous, against your crotch. You managed to bite down on your lip this time, subduing the pleasured moan to just a strong hum that was masked by the sound of the music. [Nayeon turns around and wraps arms around neck]

“You know I don’t think it’s fair that Yeji gets to keep you all to herself,” Nayeon pouted. “Siblings are supposed to share, right?”

You should have said something, disagreeing preferably, but instead your mind was just focused on the feeling of Momo’s hands running over your chest and Nayeon’s eyes staring at you. You had never noticed it before, but she had a piercing gaze. One that had seemed so innocent before, but now you weren’t so sure.

While you froze up, Nayeon took advantage of the silence; pushing up on her toes and pressing a kiss to your lips. At first you were stunned but soon you began to respond. It crossed your inebriated mind that Nayeon’s lips were softer than you had imagined. You felt Momo’s hands softly stroking your back but other than that your surroundings had become a blur. The music of the club became nothing but a distant thumping as Nayeon cupped your face and deepened the kiss.

Her tongue slipped inside your mouth, dancing with your own tentative at first before delving deeper. There should have been some part of you screaming at how wrong this was. Even stopped you from making a mistake you might regret. Instead, your hands were finding their way around her waist; finally caving to the temptation.

When Nayeon pulled back her cheeks were a rosy color, looking at you with a lustful gaze. You were sure you looked equally disheveled and lost at that moment, but you didn’t have much time to reflect on it. Momo’s hands briefly ran down your chest before Nayeon took your hand in hers.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, holding your gaze before she began to pull you towards the exit.

You didn’t fully know what awaited you for the rest of the night, but you knew you weren’t turning back now.

A/N: Not sure why I never got around to porting my Twice x Male Reader series over here. Probably laziness. Anyway I need some Nayeon and Momo content on my blog so here it is. It was short but hope you enjoyed! Also available on AO3 if you don't want to wait for me to post here. This was originally meant to contain a longer threesome scene at the time of posting but I got writers block. Re-reading it now and after Misamo I might have to re-visit it and give a part two...

[pretzel-box]

After the Rain

Streamer AU Chapter 8 [?]

[1 of 6 ]

Tags Comfort, Heart to Heart talk, this is the start of the end.

Words: 2,4k

Authors Note: Sebastians Ending will be 3 chapters long and I use the other 3 chapters to write Painters story and end it. This is not beta read, slightly edited and I can't guarantee a good quality either

Everything happened in a blur. The kiss, the shock, the instinctive reaction to push Painter away as the unfamiliar taste of alcohol lingered on your lips. Painter's expression shifted, hurt but not surprised. His eyes held a sad, almost resigned smile as if he had known this was a mistake the moment it happened. He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, maybe to say something to soften the blow, but you weren’t listening. Your focus was entirely on wiping the kiss from your lips, as if you could erase the strange, unwelcome feeling it left behind.

It would have been different with Sebastian, you told yourself. Because Painter wasn’t him. He never could be.

“I should leave.” You blurted out, your thoughts spinning as you took hurried steps back, distancing yourself from the moment. Painter didn't try to stop you, he just nodded, eyes downcast, accepting your decision without protest. In any other situation, he would have driven you home, placed his jacket over your shoulders, and kissed your cheek before wishing you a good night. But not now. He knew better. It was painfully clear who held your heart, and it wasn’t him.

You left as quickly as you had arrived, the door closing behind you with an awkward finality. Your mind was already elsewhere—on someone who was waiting for you. Desperately.

When you finally reached home, you stepped into the familiar warmth of your shared apartment. Sebastian was there, curled up on the couch, clinging to a box of Chinese takeout. The soft glow of the TV bathed the room in flickering light, playing a rerun of the drama you both had been binge-watching. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, the food in his hands seemed forgotten, his mouth parting as if to say something.

But you were faster.

Without a word, you sat down beside him, leaving a small but respectful distance between you, the sound of rain pattering against the windows as the only backdrop. The space between you felt charged—heavy with unspoken words, emotions too raw to put into sentences. The flicker of the TV illuminated his face, casting soft shadows that accentuated the worry in his eyes. Yet, for now, neither of you said anything. You just sat there, together, letting the weight of the night fade into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.

The silence between you and Sebastian stretched out, growing heavier by the second. You sat there, staring blankly at the television, but your mind was miles away. The rain hammered against the window, and the sound seemed to echo the unease settling in the room. You couldn’t ignore the weight of it—the way Sebastian had shifted beside you, how his usual warmth seemed distant tonight after all the drama.

You’d been acting strange yourself, and you knew it. But it was hard not to. Watching how Allison took over your life, the easy maipulated relationship she gave him, the casual touches you had to witness—everything built up inside you, twisting your stomach in knots. You weren’t the jealous type, or at least you never thought you were, but something about Sebastian always brought out emotions you struggled to control. Your noisy, annoying and grumpy roommate was actually none of that, you just tried to find a reason to deny your feelings.

And Sebastian had noticed.

He was quiet, too quiet, his eyes still fixed on you. You could feel him waiting, just waiting for you to say something, to explain the strange distance that had crept between you lately. But you couldn’t bring yourself to talk. Not yet. You were too tangled up in your own feelings to find the right words.

Sebastian shifted, leaning back against the couch, his fingers idly tapping against the now-empty takeout box. His gaze softened for a moment before he spoke, his voice low and calm, but with an edge of curiosity. “You’ve been… distant.” he started, almost casually, but you could tell he wasn’t just making small talk. “Did something happen?”

You bit your lip, debating whether to shrug it off or finally let the truth spill out. Your heart pounded, and you hated how transparent you felt under his gaze. There was no escaping it anymore.

“It’s nothing.” You said, trying to sound convincing, but your voice betrayed you. The tension was already too thick.

Sebastian let out a soft yet forced chuckle, but there was something knowing in his tone. “I know it's about us. We are meant to talk.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you, piecing together the clues. “Talk to me, Jelly.”

That hit too close to home. Your breath caught in your throat, and you shifted uncomfortably, cursing yourself for not being better at handling this. Of course he wanted to talk. Of course he would start sorting it out.

"Look." You began, your voice wavering slightly. “It’s just... a lot.”

And it really was. There was no clear way to start or end this mess, no single moment that felt worse than the other because it all blended together into one overwhelming blur. You replayed everything in your head, over and over. Allison had stolen so much from you—your identity, your crush, your dignity. And now, she’d even stolen your ability to think straight, leaving you caught in a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. It was like she had ripped pieces of your life away, one by one, until you barely recognized yourself anymore.

Sebastian’s expression shifted, something softer and more tender replacing the curiosity. His eyes searched yours, and you could see the realization settling in, as if a puzzle piece had finally clicked into place.

“You're still...” he said quietly, more a statement than a question. There was no judgment in his voice, just understanding. His hand moved from the box, reaching out to gently touch your arm, grounding you in the moment. “I didn’t realize…”

You lowered your gaze, feeling the heat of embarrassment creep up your neck. “I know it’s stupid. I should hate you so incredibly much and yet I can't help but look for you everywhere. I hate it so much to be so in love with you, Solace.”

A long, quiet pause stretched between you as Sebastian absorbed your words. When he finally spoke, his voice was warm, filled with a kind of gentle reassurance you hadn’t expected from him, but at the same time, it was indeed the way Solace would have dealed with this. “It’s not stupid. I didn’t know that’s what was bothering you because I was to blind to see over the lies.” He shifted closer, the space between you shrinking as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “But we have all the time in the world to make it right this time, only if you let me.”

You glanced up at him, your heart fluttering at the sincerity in his eyes.

"I only care about you." He continued, his thumb grazing your cheek in a soft, reassuring touch. "You’re the one I come home to, the one I want by my side. No one else matters."

The rain kept its steady rhythm against the window, a calming backdrop to the emotions swirling between you. For a brief moment, the tension seemed to ease, and warmth bloomed in the spaces that had once been filled with doubt. You could feel the truth in his words, his gaze holding that quiet certainty that you needed. It helped soothe the insecurities that had been gnawing at you for so long, even if they hadn’t fully disappeared.

But the uneasy feeling still lingered, like a shadow just out of sight. Things weren’t magically fixed, and deep down, you both knew it. Wounds like these didn’t heal overnight, no matter how much you wished they could. Allison’s betrayal, the confusion, the chaos—those scars still ached beneath the surface. But right now, in this moment, you felt something real between you and Sebastian. Something worth holding on to.

Sebastian leaned in, his lips brushing the top of your head in a gesture that felt both tender and protective. He rested there for a moment, as if silently promising that everything would be okay. "Next time," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "Just tell me what you’re feeling. I don’t want you to ever doubt that I’m yours."

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the warmth of his embrace, but the weight of everything that had happened still hung in the air. The hatred you had felt wasn’t completely gone, nor was the betrayal you had endured. They sat between you like fragile threads, ready to snap at the slightest tension. But for now, Sebastian was here, holding you, grounding you, and that was enough.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “It’s just... hard.”

He nodded against you, his arm tightening around your shoulders. "I know." He replied softly, his voice laced with understanding. "But we’ll figure it out. Together."

The tension wasn’t entirely gone, but it had shifted. It no longer felt suffocating, but instead like something you could face—one step at a time. You weren’t healed, not yet, but the small, reassuring presence of Sebastian at your side made the path ahead seem a little less daunting. You knew there would be more difficult moments, more conversations, but this was a start.

As the rain continued to fall, you leaned into him, and though the unease remained, there was a quiet hope that, in time, things would get better. Together, you’d mend the wounds, one fragile thread at a time.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the TV and the steady drumming of rain on the windows. You leaned into Sebastian’s warmth, but the lingering weight of everything unsaid pressed down on your chest. The Allison situation had driven a wedge between you two, and even though the tension had eased for now, you knew it wasn’t over. You couldn’t ignore it anymore.

You shifted slightly in Sebastian’s embrace, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. His eyes softened when they met yours, but you could tell he sensed what was coming. His hand moved to gently cradle your face, thumb brushing over your cheek in that soothing way he always did when he knew something was on your mind.

“We should talk about it.” You finally said, your voice low, almost reluctant. “About Allison.”

Sebastian’s expression darkened, not with anger but with a kind of resigned understanding. He nodded, his fingers stilling on your cheek as his hand dropped to his lap. “Yeah... we should.”

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking again. “It’s just... everything she did. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. She stole my identity, my streaming account, tried to ruin everything I’ve worked for—and all because of this weird obsession with Solace.”

Sebastian’s jaw clenched at the mention of Allison’s name, but he remained quiet, letting you speak. You could see the tension in his posture, the way his body went rigid at the thought of her.

“She stole more than that, though.” You continued, your voice barely above a whisper. “She made me doubt myself. Doubt us. She twisted everything, and for a while, I didn’t know what to believe.”

Sebastian’s gaze softened again, the harsh lines of his face relaxing as he listened. “I hate that she did this to you.” He said quietly. “That she made you feel that way. I should’ve noticed sooner, should’ve done something to stop her before it got this far.”

“You couldn’t have known.” You said, shaking your head. “I didn’t even know. Not until it was too late.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Still... it’s my fault for not seeing the signs. I didn’t realize how deep her jealousy went, how far she’d go to try and hurt you. I should’ve been there.”

You reached out, placing a hand on his arm, grounding him in the moment. “Sebastian, it’s not your fault. None of this is. Allison did what she did because of her own twisted reasons. You couldn’t have stopped her from being who she is.”

Sebastian’s eyes searched yours, guilt still lingering there despite your words. “But she hurt you. And I couldn’t protect you from that.”

You shook your head again, more firmly this time. “It all went well in the end.“

His gaze softened at that, and his hand found yours, squeezing gently. “I just... I hate that she made you feel like you weren’t enough. You’re everything to me.”

A lump formed in your throat at the sincerity in his voice. You’d felt so lost in the chaos of everything that had happened with Allison, but sitting here with Sebastian, hearing those words, made something inside you settle. The jealousy, the anger, the confusion—it was all still there, but it wasn’t as heavy now. Not with him by your side.

“I think... I was jealous.” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “Of how easily she manipulated everything, how confident she seemed. And then I saw how people looked at you. How they talk about Solace. It made me feel... small. What you and I had as Jelly and Solace was suddenly gone as, as if it slipped out of my hands.”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed, and he shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “You’re not small. Don’t ever think that. None of them matter to me—not like you do. Solace is just an image, a mask I wear. You’re the only real thing in my life. The only thing that matters.”

Tears prickled the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away, nodding slowly. “It’s just hard. She made me doubt everything. Made me wonder if I was enough for you. If I could ever really be... enough.”

Sebastian’s grip on your hand tightened, pulling you closer until your foreheads were almost touching. His voice was low, fierce, as he spoke. “You’re more than enough. You’re the only thing that feels real to me. Don’t let her—don’t let anyone—take that away from you.”

You closed your eyes, letting his words sink in. The pain that Allison had caused wouldn’t disappear overnight. You knew that. The scars were still there, raw and fresh. But with Sebastian beside you, you knew you could heal. It would take time—time to rebuild what had been broken, time to regain the confidence she had stolen—but you would get there. Together.

“I’ll try,” you whispered, resting your head against his shoulder. “I’ll try to believe that.”

Sebastian kissed the top of your head, his hand gently stroking your back. “We’ll get through this. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”