#having to Go On Stage In Front Of People to fix something

[darlingshane]

Let's pretend it's 1996

Duncan Carmello x F!Reader

Summary: You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. It takes 10 years for you to see him again at your High School reunion. This night brings a lot of bittersweet moments between you and him, and you can't help but wonder if after all this time you could make this work again.

CW: fluff, crack, light angst, regrets, memories, exes, high school reunion, drinking, singing, kissing.

Word Count: 3,8k

A/N: This fic is set in 2006, the year the show was released. Duncan never dated Nicole, instead he was with reader. Also, I'm not a lyricist so forgive my cheesy ass song that I wrote for Duncan, but I know this is something he'd write.

— Links: AO3 // Masterlist

After sitting down at the table, you start bobbing your head to the sound of Car Fire, the band playing live, led by none other than Duncan Carmello—your ex. They've taken the stage to kick off the party, while the stragglers keep arriving.

Your friend Pam has left you alone momentarily to procure a couple of drinks. In that time, you've found yourself caught in a web of memories about your Duncan that trace all the way back to high school. It's in this very same gym you're in where you cheered for him from the bleachers when he played basketball. The very same place where you dance together during prom, and you couldn't imagine life with anyone other than him. And now it hosts your 10 Year High School reunion. You promised yourself that you'd never attend any of these cheesy events, but Pam convinced you to come along. She’s in the organization committee, and she was very adamant on you being here tonight.

Pam sets your glass of wine on the table right in front of you, and gets close to your ear to say something over the music playing, “you're staring.”

“What?” you slowly pick up your glass and bring it up to your lips.

“Tell me that you're not still pinning for that asshole.”

“I am not pinning,” you scoff and take another sip to swallow the lie. “I’m remembering. Remembering is not pinning.”

“Tell that to your face.”

You've always wondered how things would have turned out between you and Duncan if you didn’t break up. You were high school sweethearts, the ones that every thought they'd be together forever. But fate had different plans. You wanted to become a journalist, had your mind set on going to college on the other side of the country, and that put a strain on your relationship. Distance was not kind, and a year later there was no more you and Duncan. The last time you saw him was that summer, when you came back and everything went to hell. You haven't seen him in person since. You’ve seen him in pictures that your old classmates have on Facebook, but you never thought of reaching out, despite him being on your mind more often than not.

All the relationships you had after Duncan didn't work out, and it was solely on you. You could never bring yourself to love anyone when he was still a constant presence in your heart and mind. It’s something that you probably never got over, which is kind of pathetic considering he was the one who couldn’t overcome his issues about your long distance relationship. You should hate him, but you never did. You never could. All his concerns were valid, but you were too focused on getting your degree and traveling all over, something you’ve dreamed of since before you met him. And he felt like he wasn’t part of that. He had his life here and wasn’t willing to consider moving away, even if it was just for trying. The pressure was on you to make it work, and it made you feel like a failure for not doing your best to fix the situation. That’s why he was an asshole. He was just a kid, people would say… but so were you. There was too much you had planned for your future to throw away for him. He could've met you halfway, but because he was so damn stubborn that it all ended in a bitter note that left an aftertaste in your throat for years to last. This is mainly the reason you didn't want to come here today. You know it'd be hard to ignore everything you've put in boxes in the farthest corners of your mind. Now, the dust has cleared, lids are open, and you can't bring yourself to close them again.

This evening, he's singing all the songs he wrote in high school, which you remember every lyric to. You're the sole owner of two copies of the one and only album they ever recorded. One of those he gave to you, it came with a special dedication at the back. And a second one you bought to support the band. They're both in an old box labeled ‘Don't open’ that contains everything that you collected from that past relationship and that you've always been unable to get rid of that sits in the back of your closet.

You try to think about all the horrible things he said to you the last time you talked face to face in an attempt to put him out of your mind; but to be honest, it felt like such a surreal conversation you're not sure if it happened or not. You're not the one to hold grudges and yes, he was just a kid, who had just turned 19, and it'll be really petty of you to hold onto that forever.

As the short performance comes to an end, Pam leaves again to set up the next activity at the stage. Music starts playing from a playlist now as you wander around to pick up some appetizers from the buffet table to stuff your face with. Then you meet your colleagues from the school paper that are all gathered at the bar. You have a couple of drinks and a few laughs while catching up with them and everything that's going on with their lives.

Your social battery starts draining as your bladder keeps filling quickly. When you come out of the bathroom, you make a stop in the hallway to study the wall of memories of the class of 96 that holds a lot of moments frozen in pictures that you had forgotten. School events, trips, different clubs, yearbook portraits and personal pics of different groups of friends shine anew as if they were taken yesterday. They're all labeled by year, and the walk down memory lane ends with a graduation picture of the whole class. Your eyes travel back to a collection of snapshots dedicated to prom. There's one of Duncan where he's smiling proudly in his messed up tux after being crowned prom king. Another one of the two of you where he has put his crown on your head to share the win. He later on bought you a tiara, saying you were his only queen. Your heart sinks when you see a more intimate pic of you slowly dancing in his arms. You still remember what song was playing, how he smelled, how his hands caressed the exposed skin at your back. It seems to come alive for a second when you hear his voice behind you…

“I still think you should have been crowned that night.”

“I was a nerd. Haven't you heard? Nerds don't get to be prom royalty,” you say after swallowing the knot in your throat. You don't look back, you can't face him yet. Not this close.

“That's not true. Look at you, you were by far the most beautiful in that gym.”

“Well, it wasn't a beauty contest, either.” You sigh, staring at the most popular girl in school standing on stage with her crown next to Duncan.

“So, you're not going to turn around?”

“I don't think I can yet.”

“That's cool. Take your time.”

“You sounded good up there. I thought you guys went separate ways.” You fidget with your fingers, unable to move any other part of your body to look at him.

“We did. We just got the band together again.”

“You still got it.”

“You think so?” He still sounds so boyish when he says that.

“Hm-hmm.”

“I was hoping you'd come today.”

“Yeah? Why is that?” you keep your eyes glued to the pictures on the wall.

“Cause I needed to tell you that I didn't mean any of that shit I said when we broke up.”

“Duncan, you don't have to say anything. It's—”

“No. I do have something to say, cause I was a jackass. Thought that you deserved better than me. I knew if we stayed together, I'd hold you back. You were doing what you loved, and I'd have just gotten in the way so… I took the coward's way out. I thought that if you hated me, you'd just move on. Then it was too late when I realized that it was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I need you to know that.”

Listening to him opening that old wound makes your eyes well up, but you manage to reel those in.

“I tried to hate you,” you say. “Never could. Even when it hurt, even when I couldn't move on… I couldn't bring myself to hate you.”

It's then that you finally gather the courage to shift in your heels and face him.

“Hey.”

“Hey, you,” the way his lips curve up at the corners is utterly disarming. “I didn't think you'd talk to me.”

You shrug, “I didn't think so either. But here we are.”

“Here we are,” he echoes. “You look great.”

“You do, too.” And he does. Up close, you can see he's really grown up into his own with his simple dark suit and unbuttoned black shirt. “Look at you. You're wearing a suit, and you've gotten rid of that horrible mullet.”

“Yeah,” he laughs sheepishly, scratching the back of his nape, messing up his shaggy curls. “Would you have a drink with me?”

“Hmm,” you pause and try to decide whether that it's something that you'd like to do right now. “I don't think that's a good idea.”

“Why? Did you come here with anyone?”

“No, I just don't have anything else to say to you.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

You shake your head. “Whatever happened all these years ago is all water under the bridge, Duncan. You said what you wanted to say. I don't think it'd be healthy to sit down and keep rehashing the past.”

“Oh, I get it, you're scared.” He says with a teasing tone.

“I'm not scared.” You scoff, crossing your arms tightly against your stomach.

“No? You look terrified right now, hotshot.”

“I'm not.”

“Are so.”

“I'm not”

“Are so.”

“What, are we in school?” You bring a stop to it.

“Well, we are in a high school.”

You both stare at the other and break into laughter.

Duncan tucks both hands in his pockets and shrugs like he used to, biting his bottom lip with a smile before trying again.

“C'mon, let me buy you a drink for old times.”

“I think drinks are free.”

“Even better.”

“So I'm a cheap date now.”

“Hey, I didn't say anything about a date.” Duncan starts walking backwards, heading to the gym doors. “I'll be at the bar. Come. Don't come. It's up to you.”

You watch him disappear behind the big doors that clank upon closing. The music buzzing behind them temporarily comes to stop, and you hear murmurs in its place. You step closer to see through the window that Pam is taking the stage to inform everyone with mic in hand that games would start soon before letting the music resume. You look to the side to get a glimpse of Duncan taking a seat at the bar. Against your own wishes, your hands push the door open and let your feet zero in on his direction.

His face lights up when he sees you. He raises his glass up to you. “Look who decided to join me. I knew you couldn't resist.”

“Please, don't flatter yourself. I just needed a place to sit,” you say, parking your ass on the free bar stool beside him. “These heels are killing me.”

The waiter comes over, and you order another glass of wine while you watch Duncan go over a booklet left on the bar with the necessary information of all the attendees from the Class of 96.

“Is this true? You live in New York now?” Duncan shows up your page with your bio, and two pics of you side by side, one from your teen years and a recent one you send to Pam to assemble the class book.

“Hm-hmm.”

“And you write for a surfing magazine, huh?”

“Surfing magazine? What are you talking about? It’s called Surfeit. It has nothing to do with surfing.”

“I know,” he scoffs, “I was just messing with you.”

“Were you now?” You squint at him.

“Yeah, I gotta confess I’ve known for a while. I subscribed to that thing a few months ago.”

“Get out of here.”

“No, it’s true. I know you’re one of the founders. I’ve read all your pieces, I particularly liked the one about the invasion of the cum trees. It was fascinating.”

“Yeah? You think that one will put me on the right track for a Pulitzer?” You chuckle before taking a sip from your glass. “So, you’ve been keeping tabs on me.”

“Just recently.” He puts down the booklet and lifts his beer to his lips.

“Just recently? Why would you do that now?”

“Why?” he sighs. “I don’t know, I guess I missed talking to you. I found one of your articles online a few months ago, and it felt like I was hearing your voice when I read it, so I started looking for more, and I found Surfeit and I got most of them in the mail— It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?”

You balance your head side to side, measuring which side you lean on. “I think it’s sweet. I like this new side of you.”

“Which side?”

“You’re honest. Well, I suppose you always were, for the most part, but I used to have to pry words out of you when we weren’t talking about music, sports, or video games. I like that you offer them now without me asking, and that you’re capable of reading anything that didn’t come from a Playboy. I don’t think you were our target audience when we started the magazine, but I’ll take it.”

Biting his bottom lip, he looks down for a beat. “Okay, now it’s your turn to share something pathetic you’ve done to level the scales.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m pretty sure I’d win, and you’d laugh at me.”

“C’mon, I promise I won’t laugh.”

Clearing your throat, you look down for a beat before confessing.

“You know, I was just thinking earlier, when you were playing on stage, about all the stuff I kept from you in a box and that I still have. All the mixtapes, the Car Fire albums, the tiara you bought me, all the anniversary presents… all the pictures… I’ve hauled them over several states. I took it by accident to London once. I just can't get rid of anything. I never look at what's inside, whatsoever. I don’t need to, but it's always there cause, you know… cause I’m a pathetic loser and I never got over you.”

You feel your face going numb as you finish saying that, and when you look at his eyes, you see that his smile has disappeared too. Is he pitying you? It’s the only thing you can read on his expression right now, and you instantly regret telling him that.

He opens his mouth to talk, but he takes too long to respond. And before he can say anything, you promptly stand up and try to head out the door.

Surfing the crowd, you bump into Pam.

“Hey, I was looking for you. Come on, games are starting. Sit down.”

“I was going to—” You point at the door with your thumb, but she doesn’t hear you. She grabs your arm and takes you to the tables where everyone is gathering.

Your weak protest attempt goes unheard by your friend, who leaves you alone once more to explain the first game on the microphone as someone else starts handing a sheet filled with trivia questions to everyone. They range from school-specific questions to 1996 pop culture. This is the last thing you wanna do right now, but you pick up a pen and start filling your answers without putting too much thought into them.

“Hi—” the high-pitched feedback from the microphone tears your eyes from the paper, and you find Duncan back on stage, strapping a guitar to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I’m taking the stage again,” he says as the people from the organization committee start asking him to get down, with Pam fuming on the side.

“Actually, I’m not sorry. There’s someone here today and she… she opened her heart to me and I just stood there like an idiot cause I’m not good with words like she is. I… I thought I could say better with a song.”

You lock eyes with him instantly. You can see him swallowing the lump in his throat as he positions his hands on the guitar. He looks down at the strings for a beat before letting his fingers play the first chords. After a moment, his voice joins the melody in a mid-tempo rock ballad…

Your voice knocks down my own pride, All the things you wrote, all the things you shared. Sleepless nights, restless days. Guess I never figured out, How to let go, how to walk out.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

There’s nothing like a fatal flaw, Caught up in my own fears and lies, I pushed you away, said you weren’t it. You walked away, I stayed right here Watching the years slip by.

Wish I had gone along, But baby, it’s too late now. If I could go back, I’d rewrite our last goodbye Instead of losing you that night.

And just for kicks, let’s pretend it’s 1996, We’re flying high, we’re back in that field The grass holding us up, watching stars collide.

Wish I had gone along…

Please tell me it’s not too late…

I’ll wait for you to say… baby, there’s still a chance.

The gym goes silent when the last chord fades away, and you can’t hear anything over the sound of your beating heart as you study every word sung in his song. You’re aware that all eyes are on you, expecting to see your next move, but you’re paralyzed in your seat.

Someone starts clapping, and the rest of the gym follow suit, breaking the spell you’re in.

You raise up from your chair and head out the door at a fast pace while the party resumes like nothing happened. You make it all the way to the courtyard and when you look back you see him following several yards behind, closely catching up.

Your feet come to a halt by the fountain, and you wait for him to face you.

“You know, you’re a liar,” you utter as he stops in front of you.

“All I said in that song was true.”

“No, you said you weren't good with words. I beg to differ.”

“You liked it?”

“Well, it wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, but it was good. It sounded like Oasis in their good years.”

“I mean, no one can beat Bohemian Rhapsody,” he snorts, shoving his hands in his pockets and shrugging in true Duncan fashion.

“Did you really mean it? If you could take it back, would you? You think we would’ve made it?”

“I meant every word of it, sweetheart. I never wanted to be with anyone else. I don’t know if we would have made it. I’d like to think that in another universe we did… You said you kept everything and I just choked up cause I did the same thing. I could never let you go, you know?”

“So, we’re just two wallowing assholes that couldn’t pick up the phone in 10 years?”

“Guess we are.”

“What do we do now?” You ask, folding your arms against your stomach.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I’m not the same person you remember, Duncan. We can’t just pick it up like nothing happened.”

“I don’t think I am, either. Maybe we could just stay in contact and see where that goes?” He takes out a hand out of his pocket that comes with a cell phone attached to his fingers. “Here, put your number in there.”

“It's funny,” he says as you pick it up from his hand and start typing your number in his contacts.

“What's funny?”

“Us being here, standing on the same spot where I first asked you out.”

You gaze away from the phone for a second. “Right, I didn't notice that. What was it? Homecoming?”

“That's right.”

When you're done saving your number, you call yourself to have his number registered on your end and give it back with a warning look, “don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t. I give you my word.” Duncan purposely clutches his fingers softly around your hand when reaching for the phone. He uses his opposite hand to caress the shape of your knuckles.

The familiar touch makes your hair stick out, your breath gets caught in the knot of your throat, wrapped in a layer of regrets and unsaid words. There’s an I love you trying to force its way out, but you don’t let it. You can’t. It’d be ridiculous if you did. Instead, you step closer and cup his face. He lets out a sigh, preparing for what’s coming as your face shortens the distance. The same magnetic pull that brought you to him the first time over ten years ago takes hold of you as you capture the warmth of his lips in a tender kiss. His hands, driven by that same force, smoothly travel to your waist to hold you closer against him. You sway with the gentle breeze as you allow your lips to move with his to the sweet rhythm of that song that still lingers in the way his tongue delves past your lips. As you're drawn into the depth of his mouth, you curl your arms around his neck in a tight lock as one of your hands slides into the back of his hair. He moans in your mouth as a reaction to your fingers massaging his scalp. It’s easy to get lost in that moment and forget how to breathe as your lips ache for more, for all those missed years of kisses, you suddenly feel fused with him making up for all that lost time.

You’re not sure who pulls back first, perhaps it’s both.

He’s just as breathless as you are when your lips part and your foreheads meet instead.

“Wow,” he says under a shallow breath.

“Yeah, wow,” your lips draw a smile.

“Do you wanna go back inside?”

You shake your head. “I like it here.”

— Credits: beautiful divider by @firefly-graphics

[lupuslikethewolf]

in honour of being promoted to Deputy Stage Manager in my school's theatre department, top gun high school/sixth form au:

Dr Kazansky rules the drama department with an iron fist. always wearing black turtlenecks. never seen without his glasses, his coffee, and his terrifying glare (which earned him the moniker Dr Iceman). do not show up to rehearsals if you don't know your lines. death be upon the poor students who fuck around during tech and dress, because they will find out. he loves the crew tho.

Mr Call-Me-Mav Mitchell is the head of sports. you name it, he's played it, and he could absolutely give you pointers, also, do you want a protein bar with that? it's chocolate flavoured :) even the kids who Hate (capital H) sports love him. he is sunshine and adrenaline in human form. endless energy. no one knows why he is called maverick, but even the principal does it, so.

Mr Kerner is the principal. he is also the only person who can interrupt rehearsals and survive. dr kazansky loves him. inexplicably, maverick hates him. nough said.

Jake Seresin is the school's golden child, not even because he's Kazansky's nephew. he’s head boy. he’s on the school’s football/rugby team. he writes regular articles for the internal magazines. and this year, he’s playing Orpheus in the school’s production of Hadestown. everyone thinks it’s nepotism. it is and it’s not, jake just lost a bet to his Uncle Tom, and must now reap the consequences to said uncle’s delight.

Bradley Bradshaw has been stage crew since he was thirteen and an overworked runner, thank you very much. it’s his final show, he’s the DSM, and if fucking seresin ruins this for him, he will riot. dr kazansky should never let that happen. however, this is the same man who, last year, laughed when revealing that a screen on stage had turned off and bradley had to go on stage during the show to fix it. hm. maybe bradley should have re-thought his life choices. also: the turntable. the goddamn turntable.

other characters include: phoenix as eurydice, bob doing lighting, payback and fanboy as ASMs who flirt over the comms to everyones misery, cyclone as another drama teacher/stage manager,

maverick keeps turning up to rehearsals and trying to help because his favourite (cough only cough) godson and his favourite player are both interested in this stuff, so he should at least try, right? kazansky hates it until he doesn’t. kerner thinks it’s all fucking hilarious. bradley is embarrassed but its kinda endearing do NOT tell him i said that.

kazansky and maverick both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo sons and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.

bradley and jake both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo fathers and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.

kerner is cackling. Cackling.

[021894s]

THE GIRL FROM THE BAR ⭑ lhs

SYNOPSIS: After a tough workday, you visit a quiet bar to unwind, but are harassed by a persistent stranger. The charming bartender, Heeseung, steps in, defending you, sparking an unexpected conversation. As you connect, you feels your stress melt away, drawn to Heeseung's kindness and charm, setting the stage for a blossoming romance.

GENRE: romance, mutual pining

PAIRING: bartender!heeseung x f!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving)

wc: 6.5k

It's an unusually quiet Wednesday night when you push open the door of the dimly lit bar. The cool air inside is a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the summer evening. You make your way to the bar and take a seat, the events of your rough day still weighing heavily on your mind.

As you settle onto the stool, a man approaches, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. "Hey, beautiful," he says, leaning in closer than you'd like.

You roll your eyes, not in the mood for this. "Not happening," you reply, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone.

But he doesn't. "C'mon, don't be like that," he persists, his persistence grating on your nerves.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension. "Pretty sure no means no."

You look up to see a man standing behind the bar, his gaze fixed firmly on the man bothering you. The guy scoffs, looking the man up and down. "Oh, and what are you, her boyfriend?"

His expression remains calm, but there's a steely edge to his voice. "No, but I don't need to be to know how to respect women."

The man's bravado falters, and he mutters under his breath, "Whatever, you weren't that hot anyway," before slinking away.

He turns his attention to you, his features softening into a concerned expression. "Sorry about that. We get the average asshole in here every night."

You're momentarily stunned by his beauty, the way his dark hair frames his face, and the warmth in his eyes, his lean build that wasn’t remarkably bulky, but just enough to make your mind race at the thought of being wrapped in those arms. It takes you a second to find your voice. "N-no, it's okay. Thank you for that."

Heeseung smiles, a genuine and reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

You manage a small smile in return, feeling the tension of your day begin to melt away. "A gin and tonic, please."

"Coming right up," he says, his hands moving deftly to prepare your drink. You watch him, fascinated by the ease with which he works, the smoothness of his movements.

When he places the drink in front of you, you take a grateful sip, savoring the way the cool liquid seems to calm your frayed nerves. Heeseung leans against the counter, his gaze steady on you. "Bad day?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "You could say that. Work was a nightmare. Everything that could go wrong did."

He nods sympathetically. "I know how that feels. Sometimes it seems like the universe just has it out for you."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "You? I can't imagine someone like you having a bad day."

He chuckles, a low, comforting sound. "Looks can be deceiving. I'm Heeseung, by the way."

"Y/N," you say, offering a small smile in return. "So, what brought you to bartending? Surely someone like you has other options."

He shrugs, a hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "I needed a job, and I like talking to people. Plus, it's a good way to pay the bills while I figure out what I really want to do."

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol begin to take the edge off your day. "And what do you really want to do?"

Heeseung's expression turns thoughtful. "I'm not entirely sure yet. Something creative, maybe. Music or art. I just know I don't want to be stuck in a nine-to-five grind forever."

You nod in understanding, your eyes sparkling with interest. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions, doing what I have to do to get by. It's nice to meet someone who dreams big."

"Yeah, but sometimes you need to take a step back and figure out what makes you happy," Heeseung says, his gaze intent on yours. "Life's too short to be miserable all the time. And you seem like someone who deserves to be happy."

You feel a warmth spread through you, not just from the drink but from the unexpected connection you feel with this charming stranger. You continue talking, sharing stories and laughter, and as the evening wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your day lifting with each passing moment.

Heeseung leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "You know, I don't usually see someone as intriguing as you walk through that door. It's a nice change of pace."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I'm glad I came in then”.

By the time you finish your drink, you realize you haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. "Thank you, Heeseung," you say sincerely. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt expression. "Anytime, Y/N. Sometimes all it takes is a good conversation and a little company to turn things around."

You stand up, feeling a sense of clarity you hadn't had before. "I'll definitely be back."

"I'll be here," he says, his eyes lingering on yours. "Looking forward to it."

As you walk out of the bar, your spirits lifted and your mind clearer than it had been in a long time, you can't help but think about when you'll see Heeseung again.

Over the following weeks, you find yourself returning to the bar with increasing anticipation. Each visit seems to bring you closer to Heeseung, and your interactions grow more flirtatious and comfortable.

Heeseung greets you with a wide grin. “Look who decided to make my night again.”

“Couldn’t stay away,” you reply, sliding onto the stool. “I’ll have a gin and tonic , please.”

As he mixes your drink, he leans in a little closer than before. “You know, you’re quickly becoming my favorite customer.”

“Am I now?” you tease, meeting his gaze. “Does that come with any perks?”

“Maybe,” he says with a wink. “Depends on how many more times you show up.”

Conversation always came naturally in the time you found yourself spending with Heeseung. You’d find out something new about each other every time, like how he actually lived right above the bar. Perks of being close with the owner. It didn’t surprise you, his charms and genuinely good heart making it easy for anyone to love him.

You hadn't realized how much you’d come to rely on your nightly visits to the bar until your job started to get more demanding. The project you’d been assigned had become increasingly complex, with tight deadlines and a seemingly endless series of business trips. Each day seemed to blur into the next, and your usual escape—those comforting evenings at the bar—became a rare luxury.

One particular week, a major client needed hand-holding through a difficult negotiation, which meant back-to-back meetings and a whirlwind trip to a different city. You barely had time to catch your breath, let alone think about your next visit to the bar. The days were long, filled with endless calls and emails, and the nights were spent in sterile hotel rooms, far from the familiar warmth of Heeseung's presence.

As the days turned into a week, you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret each evening. You missed the easy conversation with Heeseung, the way his smile seemed to make your worries melt away, and the genuine connection that had formed between you. You wondered if he noticed your absence, if he missed you even half as much as you missed him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you wrapped up the business trip and headed back home. Exhausted but relieved, you decided to head straight to the bar, your need for familiarity and comfort driving you forward.

As you walked in, the bar was just as you remembered it, but something felt different. The usual hum of conversation and clinking glasses seemed more subdued. You made your way to your usual seat, and there he was—Heeseung, looking up from the bar with a mix of surprise and relief in his eyes.

"Y/N," he called out, his voice warm and welcoming. "Long time no see. I was starting to think ran off with a secret boyfriend "

You smile, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "oh yeah, couldn’t wait any longer we just had to elope." you joke back “don’t worry though you can still be my lover”

He laughs, the bright smile you missed bringing a smile of your own to your lips. "tempting. you think he’d be ok with that?"

You take a deep breath, his flirty response catching you off guard despite knowing it was coming. "what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” you flash him a smile, “seriously tho, It's been... a lot. Business trips, endless meetings, demanding clients. I’ve barely had a moment to myself."

Heeseung leans on the counter, his eyes soft with sympathy. "Sounds like you could use a drink and some serious relaxation."

"You have no idea," you reply with a tired smile. "I'll have my usual, please."

As he mixes your drink, you let out a long sigh, finally allowing yourself to relax. When he sets the drink in front of you, he doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he stays close, his presence comforting.

"So, tell me more," he says, his tone gentle. "What’s been keeping you so busy?"

You take a sip of your drink, savoring the familiar taste. "Where do I even start? This project I’m on has been a nightmare. We had to fly out to meet with a client who needed constant reassurance. The whole team is exhausted, and I’ve been living out of a suitcase for the past week."

Heeseung listens intently, his eyes never leaving yours. "That sounds rough. I’m sorry you’ve had such a tough time."

"Thanks," you say, appreciating his sympathy. "I’ve missed this place. I’ve missed... you."

Heeseung’s smile is soft and genuine. "I’ve missed you too, Y/N. The place hasn’t been the same without you."

You feel a warmth spread through you at his words. "Well, I’m back now. And I plan to make up for all the missed nights."

Heeseung grins. "I’ll hold you to that. You know, I was worried about you. It's not like you to disappear without a word."

"I’m sorry," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "I should have let you know what was going on."

Heeseung shakes his head. "No need to apologize. Just glad to have you back."

As the evening wears on, you finish your drink, feeling the comforting buzz of alcohol mixed with the profound exhaustion from your grueling week. Heeseung has gotten busier, a rush of customers filling the bar and demanding his attention. He glances at you frequently, concern flickering in his eyes whenever he catches sight of you.

You try to keep your eyes open, but the combination of exhaustion and the alcohol makes it increasingly difficult. You rest your head on your hand, your eyelids growing heavier with each passing moment.

From your spot at the bar, you watch Heeseung expertly handle the crowd, his movements fluid and confident. Every so often, he throws a reassuring smile in your direction, but the bustle of the bar pulls him away each time he tries to come over to you.

Finally, the exhaustion becomes too much. Your head droops, and you find yourself struggling to stay awake. Just as your eyes begin to close, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder.

"Y/N," Heeseung's voice breaks through the fog of sleep. "You okay?"

You blink a few times, trying to focus on his concerned face. "Yeah, just... tired."

Heeseung's brow furrows as he takes in your weary state. "Why don’t you come upstairs and rest? You’re not driving home like this."

You hesitate, shaking your head slightly. “No, it’s fine. I’ve been up longer before. I don’t want to intrude.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften, his concern evident. “You’re not intruding, Y/N. I insist. You need rest, and I have a spare room. Please.”

"Come on," he says softly, guiding you to the door at the back of the bar and up the narrow staircase to his apartment.

Once inside, he leads you to the spare bedroom and helps you sit on the edge of the bed. "Stay here. I'll get you some water and something for the morning."

You nod, too tired to do much more than mumble a thank you. Heeseung disappears for a moment, returning with a glass of water, a couple of pills, and one of his soft t-shirts.

"Here," he says, handing you the shirt. "You’ll be more comfortable in this."

You change into the t-shirt, the fabric soft and comforting against your skin. Heeseung returns with the water and pills, sitting beside you on the bed.

"Take these," he says gently, holding out the glass and pills. "They’ll help with the hangover."

You do as he instructs, feeling a bit more coherent now. "Thanks, Heeseung. For everything."

Heeseung smiles, his eyes soft with concern and something else you can’t quite identify. "Anytime, Y/N. You know I’m here for you."

You look around the room, taking in the minimalistic decor, the photos of Heeseung with his best friend Sunghoon, and pictures of his family. The personal touches make you feel closer to him, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the alcohol.

"You really have a nice place," you say softly, feeling a bit more grounded.

Heeseung chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Thanks. I’m glad you think so."

As you settle into the bed, Heeseung stands, looking down at you with a mix of concern and affection. "Get some rest, okay? I’ll be right downstairs if you need anything."

You nod, already feeling the pull of sleep. "Goodnight, Heeseung."

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, his voice gentle as he turns off the light and quietly leaves the room.

In the darkness, you let out a deep breath, the events of the past week finally catching up to you. But despite the exhaustion, a sense of peace settles over you. Knowing Heeseung is just a room away, that he cares for you enough to make sure you’re safe and comfortable, fills you with a warmth you hadn’t realized you were missing.

As you drift off to sleep, you can’t help but feel grateful for the connection you’ve found with Heeseung. And maybe, just maybe, there’s something more than friendship growing between you.

The next morning, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, your head surprisingly clear thanks to the water and pills Heeseung gave you last night. You stretch, feeling the comfort of his t-shirt against your skin, and remember where you are. The events of the previous evening come back in a rush, and you’re filled with a sense of gratitude and a hint of embarrassment.

You decide to freshen up, so you get out of bed and make your way to the restroom. Just as you reach for the doorknob, the door swings open, and you find yourself face-to-face with Heeseung, freshly showered, with only a white towel hanging low on his hips. His hair is damp, drops of water still clinging to his skin, and his well-defined torso is on full display.

For a moment, neither of you moves. You’re too stunned to speak, and Heeseung seems equally taken aback. His eyes widen slightly as he registers your presence, and then a slow, teasing smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning," he says, his voice a little huskier than usual. "Sleep well?"

You swallow, trying to maintain your composure despite the sudden heat rushing to your cheeks. "Y-yes, thank you. I was just... heading to the restroom."

He steps aside, still smiling. "It's all yours."

You nod, squeezing past him, trying not to brush against him too much. Once inside the restroom, you close the door and take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. After a moment, you gather yourself and freshen up quickly.

When you step out of the restroom, Heeseung is in the kitchen, now dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, his hair still slightly damp but styled. He’s making coffee, and the rich aroma fills the apartment.

"Feeling better?" he asks, glancing up at you with a warm smile.

You nod, walking over to join him. "Much better, thanks to you."

Heeseung pours you a cup of coffee and hands it to you. "Good. I’m glad. I didn’t want you to go through today feeling like a wreck."

You take the coffee, savoring the warmth. "You’re really kind, Heeseung. I don’t know how to thank you."

Heeseung leans against the counter, his expression thoughtful. "You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. I’m just glad I could help. You work so hard; you deserve to take care of yourself, too."

His words touch you deeply, and you find yourself smiling despite the lingering awkwardness of the morning. "Well, you’ve definitely made a fan out of me. I don’t know what I would have done without you last night."

Heeseung chuckles. "I think you would have managed, but I’m glad I was here. Besides, I like having you around."

You both fall into an easy silence, sipping your coffee. The atmosphere is comfortable, and you feel a sense of closeness that goes beyond the usual bar conversations. It's as if the bond between you has deepened overnight.

"So," Heeseung says after a moment, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Do you have any plans for today, or are you just going to recover from the week?"

You laugh softly, feeling the tension of the past days finally lifting. "I think I’ll take it easy. Maybe catch up on some sleep, watch a movie, and just relax."

Heeseung nods approvingly. "Sounds like a good plan. If you need anything, feel free to hang out here as long as you like. Mi casa es su casa."

"Thank you," you reply, genuinely touched. "I might take you up on that."

Heeseung’s smile widens. "I hope you do."

As you both finish your coffee, the morning sun streaming in through the windows, you realize that this simple act of kindness has brought you and Heeseung even closer. The easy conversation, the shared laughter, and the mutual respect all make you feel incredibly lucky to have found someone like him. Friend or someone thing more.

Heeseung’s expression brightens, and he leans forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “How about we make today fun? I know you said you wanted to relax, but maybe we can do something together. It doesn’t have to be anything crazy—just something to take your mind off work.”

You feel a flutter of excitement at his suggestion. “That sounds great. What do you have in mind?”

Heeseung grins. “Well, there’s a little café down the street that makes the best pastries. We could start there and then see where the day takes us.”

You can’t help but smile back, the prospect of spending more time with Heeseung lifting your spirits. “I’d love that.”

As you get ready to head out, you glance around his apartment once more, the personal touches making you feel even closer to him. The photos, the simple decor, everything speaks of the man you’ve come to care about.

Heeseung grabs his keys and turns to you, his smile warm and inviting. “Ready?”

You nod, feeling a sense of anticipation. “Ready.”

The café Heeseung mentioned turns out to be a charming little spot with a cozy atmosphere and an enticing display of pastries. As you walk in, the smell of freshly baked goods and brewing coffee envelops you, making your stomach growl in anticipation.

Heeseung leads you to a table by the window, and you both take a seat. He smiles at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “What do you want to try first?”

You glance at the display, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the delicious options. “Everything looks so good. Maybe we should get a few different things and share?”

Heeseung nods enthusiastically. “Good idea. I’ll get us a selection. Be right back.”

As he heads to the counter, you watch him interact with the barista, his easy charm and warmth evident in every gesture. You can’t help but feel a surge of affection for him, grateful for his presence in your life.

Heeseung returns with a tray full of assorted pastries and two steaming cups of coffee. “Hope you’re hungry,” he says, setting the tray down with a grin.

You laugh softly. “I am. This all looks amazing.”

You both dig in, sharing bites and commenting on the flavors. The conversation flows naturally, the ease between you growing with each passing moment. It feels like the perfect way to unwind after the stress of your job, and you find yourself relaxing more and more.

After you’ve sampled nearly everything on the tray, Heeseung leans back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. “That was a good call. I’m stuffed.”

You nod in agreement, feeling content. “Me too. Thanks for bringing me here. It’s exactly what I needed.”

Heeseung’s eyes soften, and he reaches across the table to take your hand. “I’m glad. You deserve to have a break and enjoy yourself.”

Your heart skips a beat at the tenderness in his voice. “Thank you, Heeseung. For everything.”

He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Anytime, Y/N. You know I’m always here for you.”

As you both finish your coffee, the café begins to fill up with the lunchtime crowd. Heeseung glances around, then back at you with a playful glint in his eye. “How about we take a walk? There’s a park nearby that’s really nice.”

You smile, feeling excited at the prospect. “I’d love that.”

You leave the café and head to the park, the sun shining brightly and a gentle breeze rustling the leaves. As you walk along the winding paths, Heeseung keeps the conversation light and playful, making you laugh with his witty remarks and stories.

At one point, you come across a small pond with a few benches nearby. Heeseung leads you to one of the benches, and you both sit down, enjoying the peaceful surroundings.

He turns to you, his expression thoughtful. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed spending this time with you, Y/N. It’s nice to see you relax and have fun.”

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. “I’ve enjoyed it too, Heeseung. You make everything better.”

Heeseung’s eyes hold yours, a hint of something deeper flickering in their depths. “I’m glad to hear that. You mean a lot to me, Y/N.”

Your breath catches at the intensity of his gaze, and you feel a rush of emotion. “You mean a lot to me too, Heeseung.”

For a moment, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of shared feelings and unspoken words. The connection between you feels stronger than ever, and you realize that what you have with Heeseung is something truly special.

Heeseung breaks the silence first, his voice soft. “I’m really glad you came into the bar that night. It feels like we’ve known each other forever.”

You nod, your heart full. “Me too. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.”

The following week, after a particularly easygoing day at work, you decide to stop by the bar for your regular visit. The familiar sight of the dimly lit interior and the hum of conversations usually bring you comfort, but tonight, something feels off.

As you walk in, your eyes immediately land on Heeseung behind the bar. Relief washes over you, but it’s short-lived. Standing in front of him is a blonde girl, effortlessly beautiful, with a radiant smile. She's leaning over the counter, clearly flirting with him.

You freeze for a moment, feeling a pang of something sharp and unwelcome in your chest. Jealousy. It's a bitter taste, one you’re not used to, but there it is, gnawing at you as you watch them. The blonde girl is everything you feel you’re not—gorgeous, confident, and completely at ease.

Heeseung laughs at something she says, and it’s a sound you’ve come to cherish. But hearing it now, directed at someone else, it feels like a punch to the gut. You glance down at your work attire, feeling frumpy and out of place compared to her chic outfit.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and walk towards the bar, determined to act like everything is normal. As you approach, Heeseung’s eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, his smile falters. He quickly recovers, but you can see the flicker of surprise and perhaps guilt in his eyes.

"Hey, Y/N!" Heeseung greets you with his usual warmth, but you can’t help but notice the way the blonde girl glances at you, her expression curious but dismissive.

"Hi, Heeseung," you reply, forcing a smile. You sit down a few seats away from the blonde, not wanting to intrude but unable to completely leave.

Heeseung shifts his attention to you, his gaze lingering as if trying to gauge your mood. "The usual?" he asks, already reaching for a glass.

"Yeah, thanks," you say, your voice coming out steadier than you feel.

The blonde girl pouts a little, clearly annoyed by the interruption. "I was just telling Heeseung about this new club that opened downtown," she says, trying to pull his focus back to her. "Maybe he could come check it out with me sometime."

You feel your heart sink further at her words, but you try to keep your face neutral. Heeseung, however, surprises you. He doesn’t immediately respond to her invitation. Instead, he finishes making your drink and slides it over to you, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly.

"Here you go, Y/N," he says, his voice soft. Then he turns to the blonde girl, his smile polite but distant. "I'll think about it, but I’m pretty busy these days."

The blonde girl looks disappointed but doesn’t push further. She lingers for a few more minutes, trying to engage him in conversation, but Heeseung’s attention keeps drifting back to you. Eventually, she gets the hint and leaves, though not without casting you one last curious glance.

As soon as she’s gone, Heeseung leans across the bar, closer to you. "You okay?" he asks, concern evident in his eyes.

You take a sip of your drink, the familiar taste grounding you a little. "Yeah, just a long day," you reply, managing a small smile.

Heeseung studies you for a moment, then nods. "Well, I’m here if you need to talk," he says, his voice gentle.

You nod, feeling a bit better knowing he cares. The jealousy still lingers, but seeing the way he prioritizes you over her, even subtly, helps ease some of the sting. For now, that's enough.

Over the next few minutes, the bar starts to fill up, and Heeseung gets busier, but he still finds moments to check on you, giving you reassuring smiles or quick touches on your hand whenever he passes by. It helps, but the image of the blonde girl still lingers in your mind, gnawing at your insecurities.

You watch Heeseung work, marveling at his ease and grace. He moves behind the bar with practiced efficiency, chatting with customers, mixing drinks, and flashing that charming smile. It’s clear why people are drawn to him.

“Another drink?” Heeseung asks, stopping in front of you.

“Sure,” you reply, handing him your empty glass.

As he makes your drink, you can’t help but blurt out, “She seemed nice.”

Heeseung glances at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Who? Amelia?”

“Yeah, her,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.

“She’s a regular. Comes in every now and then,” he explains, sliding your drink over. “But I wouldn’t read too much into it. She flirts with everyone.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” he confirms, his smirk widening. “It’s just her way.”

You nod, feeling slightly better but still uneasy. “Well, she’s really pretty.”

Heeseung leans closer, lowering his voice. “So are you, Y/N.”

You blink, caught off guard by his comment. “I—what?”

“I mean it,” he says, his eyes sincere. “You’re pretty, and you’re interesting. I enjoy our conversations a lot more than random flirtations.”

You feel your cheeks heat up, and you look away, flustered. “Thanks, Heeseung.”

“Anytime,” he replies softly.

Just then, a group of rowdy customers enters the bar, and Heeseung has to attend to them. You take a deep breath, letting his words sink in. It feels good to hear that from him, to know he sees you differently.

As the evening progresses, the crowd in the bar begins to thin out. Heeseung wipes down the counter, glancing at you with a playful smile. He sets down his cloth and approaches you, the energy between you two crackling with unspoken words.

“You know, Y/N,” he says, leaning closer, “I’m due for a break. Mind if I join you for a bit?”

“Not at all,” you reply, your heart racing with anticipation.

Heeseung slips around the bar and takes a seat next to you. He stretches his legs out and leans back, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him while working. His scent infiltrates your nostrils. The cologne he was wearing wasn’t remarkably strong, but it mixed with the scent of fresh laundry and a little sweat. You thought the combination worked quite well. “So, how’s your night going so far?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“It’s better now that you’re here,” you say, your voice soft and genuine.

Heeseung laughs, a sound that sends warmth through you. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “It’s nice to get a break and actually talk to you without having to rush around.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” you say, feeling a growing confidence. “It’s good to have some uninterrupted time with you.”

Heeseung’s eyes lock onto yours, and the intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits. “It’s like the highlight of my Fridays.”

You smile, feeling a thrill at his words. “Really? I didn’t know I had such an effect on you.”

“You have no idea,” he says, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. “I find myself thinking about you more than I probably should.”

You laugh softly, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. “I guess that makes two of us then.”

Heeseung shifts closer, his arm brushing against yours. “You know, Y/N,” he says, his voice husky, “I’ve been wanting to ask you something.”

“What’s that?” you ask, your breath catching.

“Do you want anything to eat?” he asks, his eyes searching yours.

You feel a little disappointed at his question. You’re not quite sure what you expected but if your were being honest, you were hoping he’d finally ask you out. Moving past the disappointment, you feel a sudden surge of boldness, you lean in slightly, your lips curving into a mischievous smile. “You,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

Heeseung’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before a slow, delighted smile spreads across his face. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something deeper.

“It is,” you confirm, holding his gaze.

The playful banter between you intensifies, and Heeseung inches closer, his face now mere inches from yours. “you sure you can handle me baby?” he says softly, his breath mingling with yours.

For a moment, the world around you seems to disappear. Heeseung’s eyes are locked on yours, and you can feel the magnetic pull between you. He inches closer, his breath mingling with yours, and you realize that this moment could change everything.

“Wanna find out?” you ask, your heart soaring with anticipation.

Heeseung takes hold of your hand, leading you through a door at the back of the bar, up a narrow staircase that creaks under your feet. The air grows warmer, and the intimacy of the space makes your pulse race.

Heeseung unlocks the door and pushes it open, revealing a cozy, modest apartment. The soft glow of a lamp casts a warm light over the room, highlighting the simple, comfortable furnishings. It feels like a sanctuary, a place where the rest of the world fades away.

Heeseung turns to you, his expression serious but tender. “I want you to feel comfortable here,” he says. “If at any point you want to stop, just let me know.”

You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. “I trust you, Heeseung,” you say, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

He smiles, a mixture of relief and desire in his eyes. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling you into his arms.

The embrace is electric, and you feel the tension between you dissolve as you melt into each other. Heeseung’s lips find yours in a kiss that is both gentle and passionate, a promise of everything you’ve both been yearning for.

He leads you further into the apartment, his hands never leaving yours. The world outside fades away as you step into the intimacy of his space, every touch and whisper drawing you closer together.

Heeseung guides you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. The feel of his body against yours is intoxicating, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his hands exploring your back, your sides, your face.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Heeseung murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with a raw honesty that makes your heart ache.

“I know the feeling,” you reply, your fingers threading through his hair.

You leaned in and kissed him again. The kiss becoming hungrier, the both of you unfraid to show how needy you were for each other.

You could feel his growing length pressing against your clothed core, the both of you letting out a small moan when you ground your hips against him.

He reached down and pulled up your skirt, slipping his fingers inside your panties and finding you wet and ready for him “shit baby you’re so wet”. You gasped as he stroked your clit, his long, slender fingers applying just the right amount of pressure to get you squirming on top of him.

“shit, seung feels so good” his fingers slide down your folds, prodding at your whole. Without warning he slips one in, that singular finger reaching places you haven’t with your own. “You’re all I’ve wanted since I met you”, Heeseung tells you, his words making you clench around him , “m-me too”. He quickens his movements inserting a second, and then a third, the coil in your lower belly snapping at his “seung im cumming” you hardly manage to get out.

“let go for me baby, show me how good I make you feel” without another word, you’re coming undone.

Desperate for more, you reach to unbutton his pants pulling out his hard dick. It was long and thick. You didnt deem it possible for a penis to be considered pretty, but that’s the only word you could think of at the sight in from of you. You couldn't wait to feel him

“like what you see?” he asks. confidence in his voice, it was a stark contrast from how gentle he was towards you on your frequent visits to the bar. It made him all the more desireable. “mhm more than like”

You wrapped your lips around his mushroom tip and sucked him deep into your mouth. His length being enveloped bya warmth that had his eyes rolling to the back do his head. “shit baby”.

You clench around nothing, the newfound nickname one you never watched to stop hearing.

He groaned and grabbed your head, running his fingers through your hair, gripping it. You could feel him getting closer to cumming, but You didn't want him to just yet. You pull away and His eyes shoot open, looking at you with confusion “are you okay?” you smirk at him, climbing up from your spot and straddling his lap “mhm i’m more than okay”. You guided his dick to your entrance, teasing the tip on your slick. You slowly sank onto his cock, a low groan escaping his throat at the newfound feeling of your tight, wet heat.

“hee” you moaned, digging your nails into his shoulder at the feel of him stretching you so deliciously. “I got you pretty, s-shit you feel so good around me” He smashes his lips against yours, capturing you in a hungry kiss.

He pulls out slowly, whining at the loss, only to let out a loud moan as he slid back in, inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. He repeated the action several more times until you grew frustrated with the pace. “Hee, please go harder”. At your plea, he snaps his hips forward, faster and harder, making you cry out in pure pleasure.

He grabbed your hips and thrust up into you, harder and faster, “y/n… come on baby cum for me”. You could feel yerself getting closer to cumming. You leaned back and ground your hips against him, rubbing your clit against his pelvis.

“hee i’m so close”. He reached up and squeezed your tits, pinching your nipples “so close, I can feel it”. You moaned, your pussy clenching around his dick. Felling you come undone around his cock, he couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed your hips and pulled you down, cumming deep inside you. “f-fuck baby. so good”.

You pull yourself off his lap, collapsing next to him onto the couch, He joins you not a minute later, pulling you to him, your heard laying on his chest, hearing the quickened beats of his heart begin to settle down back into their normal rhythm. You lay there, panting and sweaty, for a few moments.

"I’ve been wanting to do that since I first saw you” He confessed. You couldn’t help but laugh at his honest revelation. “yeah well, at least i’m not the only one”, you tell him, a smile spreading across your face, as you look up at him.

He grinned down at you leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. "so…" he started as he pulled away, “I don’t want this to be a one time thing… but I also don’t want it to be casual”.

Your heart skipped a beat the moment you heard his confession. You’d fallen for him the moment you met, and the time you spent together did nothing to but increase those feelings. “well it’s a good thing I feel the same way then”, You smile, your big brown eyes bright, filled with promise as you kissed him again. The promise that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

taglist: @chaeyunloveeee @llvrhee @yohanabanana @simplicitysbabe @woorcve @soapsters @hwhjsthetic @iisvlinaiii @jaehoonii @txnwvc @rbf-aceu @vhuteryh @shuawons @tanisha2060 @mheretoreadff @laurradoesloveu @bllueorchid @seungjiseyo @isa942572 @deobitifull @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @yjwluvs @penny44224 @yohanseyebrowmole @blockbusterhee @cha0thicpisces @soobnuuy @slut4hee @pprodsuga @ineedsomezzz

[hoshifighting]

hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3

warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.

college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.

it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.

“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”

“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”

you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”

“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”

you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”

he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”

he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.

“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.

you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”

he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”

you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.

and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.

after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.

“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.

“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.

and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.

he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”

and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.

you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”

college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.

“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”

you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.

so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.

his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.

“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”

you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”

he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.

after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.

“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”

but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.

“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.

you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.

joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.

“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.

he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.

and he does.

slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.

you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.

your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.

“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.

“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.

his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.

“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.

“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.

then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”

you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.

“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.

you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”

“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”

you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”

you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.

he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.

“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.

and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”

then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.

“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.

his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.

he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”

and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.

then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”

you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.

“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”

your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.

he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.

he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[bbokicidal]

Lollapalooza '24 'Lix Edition ;]

Warnings : Suggestive content (MDNI, 18+)

"What was that?"

Felix slides the cream colored vest down his shoulders and lets it drop to the couch decorating the small dressing room backstage. He'd allowed himself to be a bit more -- out there, one might say -- exposing his entire front to the city of Chicago and millions online for the second half of their performance. "What was what?"

Your finger directs to the vest splayed on the couch cushions, looking far less threatening now that it was off of his body. "You wore just that on stage for the second set. Are you crazy?"

"Maybe," He's quick to retort, giggling as a smile blooms over stretched lips. "But STAY seemed to like it." His tongue pokes between his teeth as he watches you stand from your seat, coming to him to plant a kiss on his lips. It's quick and light, soft as can be while your hands slip up your boyfriend's bare sides.

Felix is more than happy to return the kiss when it's received, but he's a bit caught off guard when your tongue slips between his lips to tangle with his own. As his eyes slip shut and his hands find way to your arms, a moan escapes from his throat - muffled by the way your mouth molds against his. The way your tongue slides over his own, lathes against his and fights to caress every inch of his mouth is something he'll never get tired of - but he is on a schedule.

"Baby," He hums, spit slick against his lips as he mumbles into the kiss, "I have to go out and say goodbye to the crowd, still."

But as he takes a step back in attempt to break the kiss, you follow him forward and reach a hand past to lay it upon the door. It thumps shut and latches the moment his back presses to the heavy weight of it, securing your privacy for a moment more.

"They can wait."

-

"Not wearing the vest anymore?" Changbin chuckles at the end of his question, barely getting the final word out before he's cackling to himself in amusement. Seeing people's reactions to their sweet baby Aussie nearly shirtless on stage made Bin laugh harder than it should.

Felix looks up as he fixes the microphone hooked around his ear, blinking in light confusion before looking back down at the tank top he'd worn earlier - now once again adorning his body. "Ah," He chuckles, smile gracing his lips. "Y/N got a bit jealous earlier, said only she could see me like that.~"

Changbin's eyes roll, once again in amusement, as he steps away and towards the stage to bid their crowd a farewell.

Jeongin, who'd been lingering behind and still fiddling with his headset, turned one-eighty to see you loitering in the dressing room doorway. You exchange smiles with the maknae before giving him a wave, to which he nods and turns back around to follow the others.

And after seeing the way you looked at him expectantly, he decided he would keep it to himself that he'd witnessed Felix exit the dressing room moments before - tugging his tank top down to cover his torso now littered with bruises and bite marks from what could only be your pretty mouth.

[slashisms]

𝓦𝓘𝓝𝓝𝓔𝓡 𝓣𝓐𝓚𝓔𝓢 𝓐𝓛𝓛;

ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧＳ: Billy Loomis x Reader x Stu Macher

ＲＡＴＩＮＧ: E

ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ: MINORS DNI, all characters are 18+. dub-con, but not really, spanking, name-calling, overstimulation, (un)protected sex, anal, etc.

ＷＯＲＤ ＣＯＵＮＴ: 6k

ＳＵＭＭＡＲＹ: Billy and Stu have a disagreement regarding your sex life.

Ａ/Ｎ: special thanks to @blackterrae who sent me a lovely ask that pretty much motivated this fic.

Your relationship with Tatum and Sidney was cordial, for all its ambiguity. You challenge anyone to think of a fitting adjective for the person who unknowingly stole your boyfriend, but saved your life in the process because said boyfriend was planning to kill you gruesomely. None of the questions raised by Billy and Stu’s seemingly random decision to dump both their girlfriends one day mattered once the bodies started dropping.

You were supposed to be their first victim, a red herring before Casey Becker’s murder, but after a failed attempt neither of them will cop to– they decided to pursue you instead. The timeline had been notably suspicious and eventually led to your discovery of their ‘extracurricular’ activity.

With the amount of convincing it took to get them to direct their murderous intentions towards Billy’s adulterous father and stage the whole thing as a murder-suicide with Neil Prescott as the culprit, you figure that sort of makes up for your part in the breakup. When Sidney and Tatum got together some time later, you were hoping for an opportunity to move past any lingering awkwardness.

Mentioning it to Billy and Stu was probably a mistake. They could care less about maintaining boundaries with an ex and considering how Stu’s last relationship ended, they probably thought they were doing the girls a favor by giving them a chance to befriend you. It would move them to the bottom of Billy and Stu’s list of potential victims, at least for a while.

A few weeks after you bring it up, they suggest you go to Sidney’s place to hang out. Perhaps you had been a little naive in thinking the two of them would agree to spend time with their exes’ new girlfriend without any hidden motives. Taking one girl’s boyfriend is bad, but taking two is downright sleazy. You should have been more wary of payback, especially since they knew exactly what pushed your boyfriends’ buttons.

Honestly, it would have been less exhausting if they hazed you to hash things out.

It starts after the end of the gore fest Billy forced everyone to watch. You’re too wrapped up in their flirting to notice the way Sidney and Tatum glance at you before sharing a long look. Tatum yawns dramatically, reaching for the remote to pause the credits with a bored expression. “I think that’s enough sex and stabbing,” she says, rising from the couch and wandering to the kitchen. “Let’s do something fun!”

Sidney rolls her eyes as you try to get Billy and Stu to take their hands off of you long enough to pay attention to the blonde. The two finally settle down when you pinch them in the side, fixing them with a look that has them heeling like two trained dogs. She’s reluctantly impressed by your handling and becoming more convinced that you’ll be fine after they’re done stirring the pot. Tatum returns with a bottle of liquor, swinging it triumphantly as Sidney shakes her head in feigned disapproval. “It’s not a party without vodka!” 

Before you can ask her what she means, the doorbell rings. Sidney gets up to answer it while Tatum silences your protests, tugging you out of Billy and Stu’s arms as voices begin echoing from the entrance way. Stu laughs and Billy smirks at the look of betrayal you give them as she pulls you towards the stairs. Your eyes widen at the crowd of people suddenly swarming the front door, catching a glimpse of Sidney speaking with a nervous looking Randy before handing him a twenty dollar bill.

The next thirty minutes is spent fending off Tatum’s attempts to ply you with vodka and put you in increasingly revealing outfits as she applies mascara and lip-gloss to you while lamenting not having any foundation in your shade. 

You compromise on two shots and a tastefully revealing pleated skirt and crop top before she leaves you to arrange your hair to your liking. Billy and Stu are standing outside like two pathetic puppies when she opens the door and Tatum rolls her eyes. You were wasted on these idiots, she thinks before seeking out her girlfriend. 

Stu wraps his arms around your waist while Billy approaches you, tilting your chin as you pout up at him. “Way to give me a heads up,” you gripe. 

Billy tuts softly, moving your head back and forth as he peers at you. “And give you a chance to run? No way,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your glossy lips. 

“Don’t worry, babe, we won’t leave your side,” Stu promises

Unbeknownst to you, Tatum and Sidney were counting on it. 

They hover by your side like two gargoyles for the duration of the party, guarding your drink as you become progressively tipsier. By your third (and last) drink, you’re ripe for the picking when someone exclaims, “Let’s play truth of dare!” 

You tug your reluctant boyfriends along, sitting on the couch with one of them on either side of you. The game is fairly innocuous for the first round, prepubescent memories or equally embarrassing dares before it delves into raunchier topics. Billy and Stu quickly become bored of torturing their classmates, a direct contrast to the lovey dovey way they treat you that Randy points out with accusatory gagging motions. 

“I’ve got a truth for you Randy,” Billy says, a smug grin on his face. “Are you a nerd because you’re a virgin or a virgin because you’re a nerd?” 

Stu snickers into your neck, kissing your skin in a pointedly mocking manner as you fight down the blush rushing to your face. Randy would usually slink away from this confrontation with his tail between his legs or backtrack with his belly up, but he stands his ground with an uncharacteristic confidence. “I’ve got one too, not for you kind sir, but for our Juliet here,” he says, setting you on edge. “Is there a ranking system to your Romeos or are you left twice as disappointed?” 

When you consider Randy’s part in provoking Billy later, you really think he should have asked for more than twenty dollars to take the beating the two of them dole out. You try to stop him when he rises from the couch, but he shakes you off easily as Stu’s playful grin falls and he follows suit, stalking towards Randy. You sigh when Billy grips Randy’s collar and delivers two blows to his face with the back of his hand without a word, pushing him into Stu’s waiting arms. The party goes wild as the two heft him over their shoulders, tossing him into a rowdy crowd surf that ends with him crashing onto the coffee table. 

Yet as the two slink back to your side, the seed has already been planted. You’re guiltily holding back laughter while they size the other up, oblivious to the signals that you should address the issue and drunk enough to believe that kicking Randy’s ass has resolved everything. You miss the silent communication that seals your fate: an annoyed quirk of Billy’s brow, an obnoxious grin from Stu and a glance at you and the exit. “C’mon, let’s ditch this snooze fest,” Stu insists, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

Your protests are quelled by the look Billy gives you, though it doesn’t take long for you to realize something’s up as they silently escort you back to the car. Billy gets in the back with you, barely closing the door before he’s pushing you back onto the leather seat. Stu starts the car while Billy climbs on top of you, hands roaming over your body to grope at your curves. His voice is deceptively calm when he speaks. “Hey, babe,” he says, pressing a biting kiss to your neck. “What did you think about that loser’s question?” 

You blink, brain crashing to a halt as Billy makes room for himself between your thighs. The two were definitely different, but they were plenty skilled at satisfying you that it never occurred to you to compare the two. From the way Billy stares at you, brown eyes glinting dangerously, he’s expecting an answer. “Uh, I think he was pretty stupid to ask something like that without wearing a cup,” you reply, trying to diffuse the thick tension in the air.

He smirks, tilting his head to the side as his hand moves to the edge of your skirt, slipping under it as he hums softly. “Well it’s started a debate that only you can solve,” he says. “Stuart here thinks he screws you better than I do.” 

Your breath catches as he pinches the lace band of your panties, snapping it against your skin. His words ignite a fire in your gut kindled by the thumb he’s swiping back and forth over your pulsing core. He presses a kiss to your mouth before biting meanly on your earlobe. “He thinks he fucks this pussy better than I do,” he whispers in your ear, using two fingers to caress your slippery vulva. 

You let out a weak cry when he parts your lips, rubbing tiny circles over your clit as he sucks a bruise into your neck. “I don’t think words are gonna get through to that type of delusion,” he says, ignoring Stu’s scoff. “So we’re gonna settle this tonight.” 

You have a moment to cope with the dread his words dredge up, the idea of being chewed up like a toy to settle a score makes you wish Randy never opened his big mouth. Billy’s fingertip grazing your entrance distracts you from your thoughts as trails his lips over your chest. “Make sure to keep track, princess,” he orders. “I’ll be taking your first.” 

Your hands grip at the seat as he continues kissing his way down your body before lifting your skirt. He pushes your knees apart, tugging off your panties and tossing them up in Stu’s direction. Billy rolls his eyes when he sees him bring the moist fabric to his face and inhale with a throaty groan. You feel the shift of tires on gravel under your head as the car swerves and Billy curses, striking the blond on the back of the head.

Despite his warning to pay attention, Billy cups both of your tits roughly in his palms and tugs on your top and bra to create an enticing image that threatens to divert Stu’s gaze from the road all over again. The drive to his place feels like it takes forever as Stu has to listen to Billy eat you out. He can picture the way the other is trailing kisses up your thighs—and bites, judging by your yelp, before lapping at your opening, swiping his tongue over your twitching hole.

He spits on your clit, sucking it into his mouth with a messy slurping sound and licking at you with exaggerated noises. Stu grips the steering wheel until his knuckles ache at your whiny moans and Billy’s encouragement, his cock painfully tight in his jeans as it throbs against his zipper. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he hears Billy murmur after dragging his tongue over your slit for the nth time, groaning at your taste. “Just relax and cum for me.” 

Stu’s doing twenty-five over the speed limit and he’s ran the three last red lights, but it’s worth it when he finally pulls into his stupidly long driveway. Once the car’s in park, he whips his head around to see Billy’s hand moving under your skirt as he sinks his middle and pointer finger inside you to the knuckle. His fingers press into your quivering walls as he mouths lazily at your clit, scissoring you open.

You back arches, overwhelmed by the constant stimulation to your sensitive bundle as his ruthless fingers dig into your body. You thrash weakly underneath Billy as he brings you to orgasm with just his tongue and two fingers, trembling thighs wrapped around his head. Stu grinds his teeth when Billy pulls back, smirking at him triumphantly as he removes his fingers from your body and sucks them into his mouth. “That’s one for me,” he jeers.  

“Fuck off,” Stu says, climbing over the seat and launching himself at him. 

You’re too busy catching your breath to care about the ensuing scuffle, rolling over as they begin trading blows. They don’t pull any punches either, going at it like wild dogs. In the enclosed space, Stu has the advantage and he catches Billy off guard with a hand in his jeans and a biting kiss. He groans as Stu grips his erection, roughly thumbing the head as he pins him to the car door.

The brunet can only watch as Stu fumbles for the handle, nuzzling Billy’s chin with his own and grinning at the mix of fury and arousal in his brown eyes. “My turn,” he whispers, opening the door and shoving him out before locking the car.

“Uh, was that such a good idea?” You ask, glancing at Billy, who’s banging on the window and cursing profusely. 

Stu turns to you, grin stretching across his face. “Focus on me, babe,” he orders. “I’m gonna make you cum so hard, that shit looked weak.” 

Before you can raise any concerns, Stu’s tongue is in your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood. He grips both of your knees and pulls them apart, gazing down at you like he couldn’t care less that you were ruining his seats. One of his hands reaches out to glide through the mess on your thighs, coating his fingers before pushing two inside you. “As if he’s better at making you cum,” he grumbles, hooking his fingers and scraping them along your walls. “Look at how your pussy is sucking me in, she clearly likes me best.” 

You shudder, annoyed at how he manages to make his petulant whining sexy and Stu leans forward, smashing his lips to yours. “I’m gonna show you and him,” he growls. “Who owns this fucking pussy.” 

You gasp into his mouth as he fucks his fingers deeper into your body, smirking when you tighten around him. He leers at your bouncing chest, biting harshly at your nipple and sucking it into his mouth. You dimly hear the sound of the car unlocking as he moves on to the other nipple, but Stu just snickers. 

Luckily, Billy seems to have cooled off by the time he climbs in the front seat, opting to observe the way you fall apart under Stu. The man in question turns to him, pushing a third finger past your entrance with a satisfied grunt. He pounds into you with relentless force, licking his lips as he taunts, “I don’t even need to touch her clit to get her like this.” 

Stu uses his other hand to pin your flailing body down, smirking at the sob you let out when he does graze your clit. “Watch closely and take notes,” he says, the words nearly drowned out by your moans. 

If you didn’t look so debauched, there would definitely be another fight breaking out, but Billy just rolls his eyes, taking in your blissed out expression with an obsessive gleam in his eye. The spirit of competition was at its peak and you were in for a long night.

Convincing them not to completely wreck Stu’s car takes long enough that you’re able to regain some semblance of control. Not enough to stop Stu from tossing you over his shoulder and carrying you inside, but at least he takes you to his bedroom instead of the nearest flat surface in his house. There’s a temporary truce as your boyfriends strip away every article of clothing, leaving you and them bare.

Before they can start arguing about who’s next, you insist they cooperate before you dry up at their incessant bickering so they stick to alternating. Billy hovers over you, thick cock bobbing between his legs as the flushed tip leaks precum while Stu hovers in the back, stroking himself to relieve his tension. “He thinks he’s doing you a favor by ignoring your sweet spot, baby girl,” Billy sighs, giving you an apologetic kiss on your forehead. “Let me show him what that cute little clit’s for.” 

Billy slides down your body, grabbing your ankles and placing them on his shoulders as he moves forward. His hands cup your thighs and your cunt throbs under his stare, legs quaking when his thumbs spread your folds, revealing your glistening bud. His tongue darts out, flicking over it with pointed swipes as you bite your lip to suppress a wanton moan.

It doesn’t take long for him to work you to your peak, the simmering fire in your gut from your two orgasms easily paving the way to a third as he slurps at your clit before nudging at your opening. You let out a moan when he pushes past your entrance, groaning at the way you tighten around his tongue. His fingers come to play sloppily with your clit, the sound echoing in the room as he scoops you open. He hums in approval when you scream his name, pinching your clit between his fingers to make you scream louder.

Billy grinds against the edge of the bed as he gulps down your slick, sealing his lips over your cunt as he inches his tongue deeper. Stu curses as you toss your head back, eyes rolling back to your skull as Billy stops pinching your clit to strike it with a loud ‘smack!’ You whine as he pulls his hand back, landing a wet slap directly to the over sensitive bud. He pulls you further into his face and buries his nose in your mound, watching your tits bounce as you rut your hips against him.

He loves watching you chase your pleasure, forgetting to be self-conscious about how you look the closer you get. Your orgasm catches you off guard, the coil in your gut snapping after Billy delivers three stinging swats to your pussy, heat bursting between your legs as you weep. “Fuck!” You shout, convulsing as you gush into Billy’s mouth. 

Billy moans, slurping your cum into his mouth with his tongue as the rest drips down his face and onto the sheets. He reluctantly pulls away after a few more kisses to your throbbing clit and Stu approaches, staring down at your twitching body with a possessive gaze. Your heart pounds when they switch places, Stu prowling over you as his eyes dart over your face, breasts, and cunt. His fingers swipe over your puffy labia, hooking one inside to feel your walls ripple with the aftershocks.

Normally they would have been fucking you silly at this point, but Stu is determined to eat you out better than Billy, ignoring the painfully hard erection jutting against his belly. Though he can’t resist grabbing your ankles and pushing them towards your ears, lining his body up with yours to nudge his cock against your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” he sighs, tongue lolling out. “I’m gonna fucking destroy this pussy.” 

You groan at his words, staring at him with bleary eyes as he pulls back, sliding his hands down to cup the meat of your thighs. He holds you in place as he bends down to press his lips to your vulva, kissing it the same way he does your mouth, forcefully and with too much tongue. It feels like you’re being roasted alive as your ankles tremble by your face, your nerves overloaded as he pays almost punishing attention to your clit. 

After your third orgasm, the stimulation is almost too much. “Please, no more,” you plead. “Just fuck me already.” 

Billy curses behind you, the sound of you begging for their cocks has always been a weakness of theirs. Stu clicks his tongue, squeezing your thighs until you whimper softly. “Just be quiet and cum,” he orders, nibbling at the engorged bud. 

You have no choice but to obey, Stu’s iron grip on your thighs preventing you from moving an inch as he makes out with your clit, curling his lips around it and sucking as his thick tongue swats back and forth, making you squeal. One of your thighs falls onto his shoulder as he slides a hand to your entrance, poking and prodding before pushing three fingers in at once, smirking at the undignified howl you let out as he forces your body open.

He spreads his fingers, moaning at the feeling of your body giving way to his hand. You take in a shuddering breath as another orgasm builds, your clit pulsing against his tongue as he forces it out of you. Maybe that’s why it feels different and your brow furrows as you struggle to gather your wits to warn Stu. “W-wait, it-it feels like—”

You gasp as a hand covers your mouth, gaze flickering to where Billy is hovering over you, preventing any further arguments. You’re less than an active participant at the moment, they just want you to lay there and let them make you feel good. Your eyes squeeze shut as your climax crashes into you like an electric shock, leaving you jerking and squirming in Stu’s grip. 

“Oh fuck, dude, she just squirted,” Stu says with a shit-eating grin, pulling away with your cum dripping down his chin. “Shouldn’t that count for two?”

“Fuck no!”

“C’mon, you scared you can’t make her do it?”

You’re. Fucked. 

Stu cackles, swiping his tongue over the remnants of your cum on his face as Billy pushes him out of the way. “You’re gonna have to replace this shitty mattress,” he threatens as they swap spots.

Billy cups your cheek, glaring down at you like it's your fault they’ve reduced you to an overstimulated wreck. His other hand jerks himself off slowly, eyes moving from your face to your trembling body. “Look at you, cumming so easily after begging to stop,” he sneers. “I’m gonna pound this desperate little cunt until you’re begging for my cock.”

Despite his vicious words, he kisses you gently, pushing his tongue into your mouth until you taste yourself. He kisses down your neck and both of you groan when he braces his arms on either side of you, sliding his cock through your folds with slow rocking motions. “Motherfucker thinks I can’t make this pussy squirt,” he hisses, gripping his cock and pushing the bulbous tip inside you. “Just wait, you’re gonna be gushing around my cock.” 

You’re speared open as Billy sheathes himself inside of you in a single motion, pushing past any resistance with a groan. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your walls clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock, slipping in easily after Stu’s fucked you open. His fists grip the sheets as he pulls out, slamming back in with a grunt.

His pace is savage as his hips slap against yours, carving a space in your body as he kisses you to smother your screams. Your back arches and your hands slap at his chest, scratching your nails down his skin when he grinds against that spongy knot of your cervix. Billy’s hand comes up to your nape and tilts your head, tapping your cheek. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his piercing gaze. “Look. Look at this greedy fucking cunt,” he orders, until you’re both staring at where his cock is disappearing inside you. “She’s gripping me so fucking hard, this tight little pussy doesn’t want to let me go.”

His hips never falter as he pummels into your body, his thrusts rocking the mattress until it’s creaking obnoxiously in concord with the ‘shlickshlickshlick’ of his cock thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. It’s impossible to gather a coherent thought as you watch and listen to the symphony of your bodies, but you vaguely hear yourself telling him you love it, begging him to go harder, deeper, to cum inside you so you can feel it.

You’ll say anything as long as he keeps delivering blazing jolts of ecstasy to your cunt, rendering any chance you’ve got at higher order thinking futile. Billy laughs at the glassy, dazed expression on your face as you fall apart underneath him. “Fucking cock drunk already, huh?” He laughs. “I’ll give you every goddamn inch since you want it so bad.”

He nuzzles closer to you to stare into your eyes, pulling your legs around his waist and bringing you in to meet his hips. You shake your head when he brings his thumb to your swollen clit, moaning at the way you milk his cock when he applies the slightest pressure. He squeezes your lips into a pout, shaking you like a rag doll when your eyes start to shut. “Don’t you dare close your eyes, you fucking slut,” he hisses. “You’re gonna remember who’s making you cum like this.”

You can’t even remember your own name, mouth dropping open in a silent gasp as drool slides down your chin and tears pool in your eyes. They spill over onto your cheeks, dark tracks of mascara falling onto the sheets as Billy pinches and strokes your clit. “Aw, you’re such a crybaby,” he teases. “Beg me and I’ll stop.”

“Please, please, please stop,” you comply immediately. “I can’t–can’t take anymore, it hurts.”

“Good girl, you’re so pretty when you beg,” Billy coos with feigned sympathy before drawing in and out of you until it feels like you, or the bed frame. is going to break. You gasp, staring at him with wide eyes when he pulls out to the tip, tapping it against your clit before angling his cock back at your entrance. “Billy, you promised!” You whimper, glaring at him with tear stained lashes.

“I lied,” he says before slamming back in, listening to you cry out. 

He fucks you hard and fast, ignoring your hiccuping pleas as his fingertips glide over your clit mercilessly. Billy grunts with every roll of his hips, covering your mouth as he plants his feet in the mattress and jackhammers against your g-spot, sparks shooting up your spine until your pussy undulates deliciously against every curve of his cock.

Billy curses when your teeth sink into his palm as you finally cum, eyes rolling back into your skull. His hips keep moving even as you clench around him, jaw aching as he fucks you through your orgasm. “C’mon, give it to me,” he growls, brutalizing your walls. “Soak my fucking cock, nasty girl.”

Your fifth orgasm is an out of body experience, your throat scraped raw as you yell against his palm, lower body exploding in a rush of slickness. “That’s it, baby,” he moans, balls tightening as he ruts his cock into your cervix before spilling inside you. 

You shudder at the warmth of his cum, moaning into the kiss he gives you as you come down. Billy slips out of you, reluctantly allowing an impatient Stu to take your place. You blink at the sensation of his shadow falling over you, vision blurry with tears as you look up at his dark expression. “Shit, babe,” he breathes softly, pupils blown as he caresses your overwrought form. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You would laugh at the idea of being sexy while laying there like a wet noodle if you could manage to gather any air in your lungs. Stu leans forward, nuzzling your chest before swiping his tongue over your nipple. He grabs your trembling thighs and pulls your limp body into his lap, tongue moving over your chest and collarbone, groaning at the taste of your sweat. He cups your face with both of his hands, sliding his tongue into your mouth as he grinds against your pussy.

Stu shivers at the feeling of cum dripping onto his cock, the wet glide of your bodies finally providing some relief to the ache in his balls. Watching Billy fucking you without joining in was torture and his patience is wearing thin. He gives you a moment to catch your breath then slides his hands down to your thighs, lifting you slightly in the air before dropping you straight onto his cock. 

He laughs at the squeal you let out as your head knocks against his shoulder and your body curls into his chest, practically strangling his cock. He grips the globes of your ass, yanking you off and slamming you back down. Stu fucks into you like a rabid animal, teeth pulled back into a snarl as he bites and sucks at your neck.

He grins as you sob into his shoulder, impaling you on his cock with a loud squelching noise before jerking your hips up and down to meet his, shivering at the sensation of thrusting into your cum-filled hole. “Yeah, it’s good, huh?” He taunts. “Then take it, take it–take it all, you fucking bitch.”

He bounces you in his lap like a flesh-light, grinning at Billy as he spreads your cheeks wide enough to reveal your puckered asshole. The brunette’s gaze is drawn to the winking flesh as Stu inches one of his slender fingers towards it, pulling a nervous whine from you. “We should fuck you here too,” he purrs. “A whore like you isn’t satisfied until all your holes are filled.”

You moan softly and Stu smirks, smacking your ass and watching the flesh jiggle reverently. You let out an anguished cry of pleasure when he swipes his hands through the mess of cum dripping from your cunt to slick up a finger and slips it past the tight ring of muscle, curving his finger into your ass. You nearly bite down on your tongue when he sinks in a second finger, scissoring them using Billy’s cum as lube.

Stu groans as your entire body locks up, squeezing around him in a vice-like grip as you’re pushed to the edge from being penetrated at the same time. He hitches your hips into his, grinding deep into your gummy g-spot. You’d never thought you’d despair at the thought of your clit being touched but when he lets go of your hip to paw at the nub furiously, you think you start crying again. 

“Billy was right. You are a crybaby,” Stu coos, swiping his tongue over your salty tears. “Too bad it only makes me wanna see you cry harder.” 

You have to hold onto his shoulders or risk toppling over as he pounds into you, his thighs quaking as he propels his hips into yours. Your entire body is starting to feel like an exposed nerve, overloaded with a depth of sensory information that you can only process by crying out lewdly and drooling onto Stu’s skin. 

“Oh fuck, here it comes,” Stu hisses, informing you of your orgasm before you even realize it’s approaching. “Such a selfish pussy, cumming all by yourself. I guess we’ll see if you break the record tonight.”

You claw at his shoulders, back bowed and cunt pulsing around his cock as you quiver in his lap, drenching his waist as stars erupt behind your eyelids. You barely register the sound of Stu and Billy’s voices, an imploring murmur from Stu and a warning hiss from Billy is your only warning before you feel Billy’s length poking at your asshole.

You let out a weak protest that Stu hushes. “Billy wants to feel how tight you are, sweetheart, just let him put the tip in,” he croons softly, slipping his fingers out so Billy can slide the mushroom head of his cock into your body. 

“Fuck,” Billy sighs, tossing his head back at the heat enveloping him. “I love this slutty body, it’s still so tight even when we fuck you stupid.”

He pauses, a bruising grip on your hip and jaw clenched as Stu rocks your body back onto his. He gasps as you slowly sink onto him, moaning with every jerk of Stu’s length against the thin barrier of flesh separating them in your body. He swears, brows furrowing as you choke back a pitiful wail when another orgasm follows immediately, torn out of you almost involuntarily from their ruthless treatment. “Shit, she’s coming again,” Stu chuckles, pinching your clit as you whine. “I guess we’ll share credit for this one, but I’m still in the lead.” 

Billy kisses his teeth, pushing you further down as his breath catches at the friction of their cocks fucking in and out of you. He kisses your nape before biting at your shoulder. “How many times is that, princess?” He questions, gripping your chin and turning your face towards him. 

They both moan at the spaced out expression you’re wearing and Billy shakes your head to get your attention, waiting for your teary eyes to slide over to his face. “How many times did this filthy pussy cum, huh?” He repeats. “I told you to keep track, didn’t I, princess?”

You shake your head, burying your face in Billy’s palm, mumbling, “Don’t know, can’t remember, please, I can’t take anymore.”  

Billy slaps your ass until his palm stings, cursing when you seize around him. “I asked you to do one fucking thing,” he snaps, relishing in your pained mewl. “Dumb whore can’t even count when we’re fucking her.” 

Oh no. You’re starting to feel like a minor villain about to be conquered through the power of friendship, the preclude to your defeat stemming from the epiphany of two rivals that cooperation will yield better results.

Torturing others was a pastime that brought Stu and Billy together and you were no exception. If your tongue wasn’t heavy as lead in your mouth, you’d try to say something to dissuade them from doing so at any cost, but you can only hold pathetically onto Stu and hope for the best. 

“The fuck does a virgin like Randy know?” Billy growls, gripping your waist and lifting you off of their cocks before slamming you back down. “You love fucking both of us, don’t you? You cum harder when we paint your insides together.” 

Okay, maybe this was an opportunity for a quick resolution. You nod emphatically, eeking out breathless ‘uh huh’s and ‘mhmm’s that seem to satisfy Billy. You can only hope they’ll forget the competition and fuck you to completion together because you couldn’t take much more.

Stu’s breath trembles and his thighs tense as he covers Billy’s hands on your hips and shoves his cock into the hilt, sliding the hand on your clit to your stomach. “Fuck, you feel that, baby?” He moans. “I’m gonna cum here, right in this thirsty womb.”

You take a moment to be grateful for birth control as Stu buries himself in your cunt, pulsing one last time before shooting inside, moaning as Billy’s cock grinds into his from behind. You’re almost convinced that you succeeded in distracting them when they both slip out of you with a groan and Stu maneuvers you gently into Billy’s chest before getting off of the mattress.

Billy shifts your bodies off the undeniably soaked sheets to a dry spot and tangles your legs together. Stu grabs a water bottle from his mini fridge and your eyes open when you hear the twist of the cap. He holds the bottle to your lips until you gulp down half of it before setting it on the nightstand.

Your eyes widen as he pulls out a condom, glancing at Billy who takes it from him with a Cheshire grin. You watch as he tears the packet open with his teeth before sliding the condom over his throbbing cock, gripping it at the base. “We still have to settle this fair and square,” he says at your doe eyed gaze, lining himself up with your swollen pussy. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t lend each other a hand. Every magician needs an assistant, right babe?” 

Okay, so you’ve been sufficiently fucked over by two scheming lesbians, but it’s nothing less than what you deserve.

[avis-writeshq]

hellooo <3

can i request a lil something for hotch about that one trend on tiktok “calling my bf my husband to see his reaction” thxx!

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship warnings: talks about marriage + commitment a/n: thank you for requesting lovely <3 wc: 650

Aaron’s confusion is palpable when he watches you prop your phone up by the corner of the car so that the front camera faces the both of you. He’s well aware of how you make videos of yourself to post on the internet – it’s actually how Penelope set the two of you up – but he’s never really been in any of the videos you’ve posted. The two of you are just going on a fast food trip and as soon as you step into the car, he finds himself incredibly underdressed. Granted, you always look lovely, but you still look far too overdressed to go to a drive-through. 

“Are we going somewhere after this?” He asks slowly, his eyes raking over your figure and the way you fix up your hair. 

“No, honey, I just wanted to dress up.” You smile at him, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. 

He frowns, a stark contrast to the brilliant blush on his cheeks and the redness of his ears. “This seems like a plot.”

“No plot,” you laugh again and turn to your camera. “Guys, my husband thinks that I’m plotting something. Can you believe that?”

Aaron’s brain short circuits as soon as the words register. His fingers go lax on the steering wheel and his jaw unhinges. He’s staring at you like you’ve got three heads and his blush travels all the way down his chest. He likes the sound of that. An entire lifetime with you flashes before his eyes and all of a sudden there’s a ridiculously wide smile on his face and his eyes are crinkled at the corners.

“You’re beautiful.”

You’re giggling. A hand over your mouth and your eyes have lit up with mirth. He spares a glance at the camera and he manages a small groan, covering his face with one hand in an effort to shield his reputation. You’re still laughing quietly, although your own cheeks are hot from his breathless compliments. 

“Was this all just for a video?” Aaron asks, moving his free hand to your knee and squeezing. “Sweetheart, that’s cruel.”

“No, it isn’t! It’s just a silly video, Aaron, it’s not cruel,” You say through a smile, and you stop recording and pocket the phone. “You reacted really nicely though, I’m sure the video will do well.”

“Do other people not react well?” He asks, concerned. He doesn’t really want to think about how other boyfriends react to their significant other calling them ‘husband’, especially when he can’t imagine ever having a life without you in it. 

You shrug as you respond, “one guy didn’t let his girlfriend finish her sentence before he was yelling that he ‘isn’t her husband’. Which is true, but he responded really quickly and really seriously that it didn’t seem like a joke. I don’t know how they are in real life though, so it could have been staged.”

His concern turns into one of mortification, mainly for the couple. “I don’t understand how someone could get into a relationship and have no end in mind.”

That alone is enough to have you swooning, and he leans over to kiss your forehead. You’re beaming at him, almost slyly, and he brushes your hair out of your face. 

“We should go somewhere nice,” He decides, sitting back in his seat. He puts the car into drive. “You’re too pretty to go to a drive-through.”

You’re laughing again as he starts driving in the direction of your favourite Italian place, one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh. You don’t know about the velvet ring box hidden underneath the drivers’ seat. 

Two weeks later, the video you recorded garnishes a whopping 23.6 million views, pinned beside another with a ring as the thumbnail. That video has a terrifying 43.9 million views, and Aaron is not spared any teasing. 

reblogs are always appreciated !

events page

[darnell-la]

What about Wade and Logan watching Vanessa and Reader pole dancing together and the boys getting all hot and bothered by watching?

note: overload — that’s all you guys need to know.

———

“Aren’t you excited!? Your long-time, short-time crush is going to dance in front of us tonight with my long-time and short-term fiancé,”

As soon as the two entered the bar, Wade couldn’t stop teasing Logan about the fact that this young lady he’s been crushing on for a while, will be dancing tonight.

“She just started yesterday, why would she already be on stage?” Logan sighed as he leaned back in his chair. “Maybe because she’s the hottest worker, right after my fiancé!?”

Logan glared at Wade, making him put his hands up in a surrendering passion.

“Look, don’t be grumpy all night. I wanna enjoy my butter pecan up there, alright? Good boy,” Wade patted Logan’s head before shouting out Vanessa's name to support her before she came up.

“That’s my girly pop!” Wade yelled out, making Vanessa chuckle as she danced on stage with y/n. Their session was almost done, and Logan felt drained. Watching y/n like this was going to be unforgettable tonight.

At first, he hated the idea of y/n being like this in front of so many men. That’s the reason why he came last second. Now he’s wishing he never did, with how hard and leaky he was from watching.

He couldn’t possibly go up to y/n without her knowing. She’d see the patch instantly. He cursed himself for being a perv.

“Hey, I’ll be right back,” Logan got up and quickly walked away before Wade could speak or anyone could see him cover himself up.

“Logan!? Wade sent me back here to come and get you! He said you’ve been all here for almost an hour,” y/n said as she made her way down the small hallway to the bathrooms.

After the show, it got dead, since people were only there to see the strippers of the night.

“Logan?” Y/n asked again, but he still didn’t hear her. He was too busy trying to focus on his release. “Logan, are you even here?” Y/n opened the men’s bathroom slowly, not really caring if she saw anyone else. She wanted to make sure Logan was alright if he was still here.

“Goddamnit,” y/n heard Logan grunt. She wanted to turn back around and leave, thinking he was having trouble using the bathroom until she saw one hand over the bathroom stall.

She squinted her eyes to take a better look, seeing how tight he was gripping the metal. The stall was bending in from how hard he gripped down.

“F-Fuck, just- Fuck, c’mon,” Logan groaned in annoyance, angry that he’s been going at this for what felt like days. He’s a mutant, so he should be able to last however long he pleased, but he wanted to release now. He’s never been this hard in his life.

“Logan?” Y/n said low, but surprisingly, he heard her this time. “Fuck-“ the man cut himself off and stopped instantly. “Y/n!?” The man panicked as he fixed himself up, but that was going to be hard.

He’s been leaking for who knows how long, and everything had made its way all over his hand. When he went to wipe his hand in his jeans, all it did was make him look worse.

“Yeah, I was just- I was just checking on. Wade told me to,” y/n said as she rubbed her fingers together, a bit embarrassed that she probably witnessed Logan, and an older adult jerking off in a bar bathroom.

“That motherfucker,” Logan mumbled as he began to buckle his pants. “I can, uh, leave if you’d like. I’m technically doing something illegal anyways,” y/n spoke about her being in the men’s bathroom. “No, no!- Just wait a second,”

Y/n stayed silent as she heard Logan groan in frustration and probably break a few things in the stall before he finally came out.

“Hey, Bub, uh, wassup?” Logan asked as he quickly walked over to the sink, not trying to make anything seem too obvious. “Just checking’ on ya,” y/n smiled as she scanned the man.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Logan?” Y/n felt the need to walk over to Logan, but slowly. “Yeah, Bub, just needed to take a leak, that’s all,” Logan lied as he turned around after drying his hands.

“Are you sure? You’re breathing a bit heavy, and-“ Y/n went on until she looked down at his lower body, seeing what his jeans looked like. They were basically drenched in one particular area.

Logan took a deep breath with his eyes closed, knowing he was caught and couldn’t lie his way out. He prayed she’d think he was just some man who needed to rub one out, but she kept asking him the right questions.

“First time watching the new modern women strip?” Y/n chuckled shyly as if wondering if this was even a joking situation. “You’re a funny one,” Logan chuckled as he fixed his shirt he noticed was sitting wrong.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed. Most men don’t know how to act when they see a pair of tits,” y/n joked, but that slightly bruised Logan’s ego.

“Seen enough tits in my life, Bub,” Logan said, right before he took a look down at her chest. “Oh, you have? Seems like a fun life,” y/n got a bit defensive at his response. She couldn’t believe it at first, but her response was out of jealousy.

“Ain’t too bad — As long as they come with a pretty face,” Logan said as he looked into her eyes with a head tilt. “Yeah,” was all y/n could say as she broke eye contact.

“You know you’re pretty, right?” Logan asked as he moved towards y/n, softly letting his hand rest on her waist. “Really?” Y/n asked, confidence suddenly being thrown out of the window.

“Oh, yeah — So damn pretty,” Logan placed his free hand on her cheek, slightly rubbing it as her eyes widened. “T-Thank you,” y/n stuttered, and all Logan could do was chuckle at how she got around him.

“Got me all worked up out there, hun. Didn’t know you could move like that,” Logan admitted. “That’s why they had me dance on my first day,” Y/n said, reminding Logan about that. “That doesn’t sit right with me, Bub. Don’t want you back here workin’ for a creep,”

“But Vanessa? She works here,” y/n said, but he some care. “That ain’t my girl, so what she does, doesn’t concern me,” Logan said, not wanting to sound rude, but he truly did not care about anyone else, but y/n.

“You, though? You’re my girl, and you didn’t tell me about this job — Wade had to,” Logan said as the hand on her waist tightened. “And, that doesn’t sit right with me,”

Y/n felt the need to apologize, thinking she did something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t. Only in Logan’s eyes, she did do something that would need some consequences.

“Gonna say anything before I do what I’ve been needing for the past two hours?” Y/n wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. She was curious about how far Logan would take this.

“C’mere,” Logan said as he pulled y/n into a bigger bathroom stall than the one he was in. Once he locked the door, he pushed y/n to her knees, making sure to keep eye contact with her soft eyes.

“Gonna need you to look at me just like that until I’m done, okay? Been stuck for the past hour with this shit,” Logan said as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. He didn’t think about it, but y/n sure did once she saw his length.

He was long, harder than she’d ever seen anyone before, thick, veiny, and leaking more than an average human should be.

“Open up, Bub,” was all Logan said as he pushed at her lips with his tip. Y/n hesitated but soon opened up and took him in. She had stopped after a few inches, but he continued thrusting his hips until she was in as much as he thought she could take.

“Fuck, baby — This is exactly what I needed,” Logan rolled his eyes as he felt instant release. He knew he was close, but he wanted to last. “Stop gaggin, baby — Wanna last a bit longer,” Logan told y/n, but she couldn’t. He was too huge.

“Bub, I said- Oh my god,” Logan grew angry, but soon whined as her throat collapsed around his shaft. “Fuck, I can’t hold it, Bub. So damn wet and warm- Fuck,” was all Logan said before his cock twitched.

Y/n couldn't help but look up at Logan to watch him lose himself in her mouth. The main she let out as he spilled into her mouth, made him groan louder, and tighten his grip on her hair.

“Goddamnit, I’m gonna cum again-“ Logan struggled to say as his legs shook, and a second orgasm ripped from him. Y/n’s eyes widen as more cum filled her mouth, so much that his seed leaked out of her mouth. There was too much to take.

“Nah uh, swollen it all, or I make you walk out with it on your face,”

[exhaslo]

Hi love! How are you? I’m so in love with your writing and I wanted to see if you could write something for me? 🥺 (only if your requests are open.)

I was wondering if you could write a Sugar daddy!Miguel? The reader is working at little club and notices her one night working, running all over the place serving drinks to other drunk people. Miguel calls her over for a drink and talks to her for a bit. He tells her “someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t be working in a place like this?” And offers her to be his sugar baby, she’s surprised at his request but takes it. After he spoils her she realizes she starts to have feelings for him and he does too. 🫶🏻💗

Sure thing! This might be late from when you originally requested, but I finally got it done! Haha. I won't do too much of a age difference, since I'm not too comfortable with large age gaps, but hell, sugar daddies can be the same age too!

Right??

Warning: Fluff, language, teasing, fluff fluff and fluff

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Another day, another dollar. That's how you tried to keep motivated. Did it work? No, but your bills sure did play a part in getting your ass off the bed. Being an adult sucked. Where you worked, also sucked; but were you going to quit...Not yet.

Although, you were desperate for something new.

You hated your job. Working at a stripe club, serving drinks to drunk and perverts. It wasn't your ideal choice, but it was the only place that was willing to give you a chance. You couldn't afford to go to college and your bills were too high to wait for anything else.

You had been told by your boss that you'd make more money as a stripper, but to hell with that. You knew the risks and quite frankly, you were afraid to dance half naked in front of so many men. Though, it didn't stop you from getting some tips here and there.

"Another round over here, sweet cheeks!" One of your regulars called out.

You let out a huff, pouring more beers into glasses. Before hitting the floor, you fixed your booty shorts once more and hurried to him. The drinks hit their mouths before you even put them on the table.

"Geez, trying to hit a record? At least let me get them on the table before inhaling them," You teased.

"Drinks from you are too good to not have, baby. I'll take it nice and slow next round if you get on that stage."

"Not even in your dreams, pal." You huffed, walking to the next table.

You hated this place. You hated the customers. Hell, sometimes you hated the pay. It was not enough for the shit you had to deal with on a daily bases.

"(Y/N), VIP guest is requesting you from bring them a popular drink. Doesn't care which one, he just wants you to deliver it. Don't fuck this up." Your shitty manager said over the radio.

"Great."

------------

Miguel let out an obvious sigh, signaling to his brother that he was not happy to be there. He would groan and grunt, but unfortunally Gabriel had gotten used to those noises and somehow tuned Miguel off. Honestly, it was a talent.

Since Miguel was forced to come to the club, he might as well have made the best of it. Miguel grabbed the VIP room and made himself comfortable. His sunglasses making him the center of attention sure did help with keeping Miguel seated in his seat.

He watched the crowds of men cheer towards the strippers, begging for more and throwing their money. Miguel exhaled softly, looking at his private stage. There was no need for him to be here. He should be outside, stopping crime.

"Miggy! Stop being such a brood and have fun!" Gabriel huffed, poking his head into the room. Miguel shrugged,

"I am having fun. See? I'm here."

"Such a bore."

Miguel rolled his eyes towards his brother. He hummed lowly, watching the people in the club. He furrowed his brows, spotting you run around with a scowl on your face. He couldn't help but smile. To think there was someone else in here who was just as unhappy as him.

Miguel pondered to himself. He had been wanting to do something risky lately. That and he was touch starved. Perhaps he could save someone tonight, but in a different matter. Hell, it could be fun too.

Requesting for you, Miguel leaned back in his seat and waited. With his heighten senses, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he heard you cuss under your breathe. By the time you arrived, you had a obvious fake smile against your lips and a tall, colorful drink in your hand,

"Hello! You requested me?" You asked sweetly. Miguel raised a brow as he took a sip of his drink,

"Couldn't help but noticed you working too hard out there," He said smoothly and motioned to the seat across from here, "Your boss can't see us from here. Take a break."

"Ha, you trying to get me fired?"

"Perhaps, if you're willing to listen and take my offer," Miguel said, continuing to force the sweet drink down his throat.

Miguel watched you hesitate before taking a seat. Your clothes were obviously too tight for you.

"So, what's your offer?"

"It's obvious that you're too good and beautiful for this job. So, hear this bored man out," Miguel tried to get you to smile, "I have too much money and not enough to spend it on. Would you allow me to waste it on you?"

"Huh? Like...Have you as my sugar daddy?" You questioned, observing him, "You only look a few years older than me. How can you be that rich?"

"Plenty of ways. I won't have you do anything you don't want. Just a date here or there, and in return you can spend as much money as possible on whatever you want."

"So....just a date in return?" You hesitated and glanced at the club, "I am being punked right?"

"Why would I lie?"

You glanced at the club once more, honestly considering the man's offer. You were desperate and what was the harm in just playing along for a date or two? If you can pay off your bills and get enough money, you could run away if things got too scary.

"Deal, I'm (Y/N)"

"Miguel."

--------------

Part of you still doubted Miguel and his offer. Even as you quit on the spot and held his card in your hand, you still doubted it. It was only until you officially paid off a bill and was asked on a date that it hit you. This was real. You nabbed yourself a Sugar Daddy.

And a hot one at that.

Honestly, you weren't too disappointed with your situation. Miguel was really kind to you and didn't ask for much. Your first few dates were honestly some of the best you've ever had. The most you did was hold hands and a small peck on the cheek here and there. It was sweet and simple.

You really only used his money to pay off your bills and do some small groceries here and there. Honestly, you were more into having another date with Miguel. He actually listened to you and took care of you. Something that made your heart flutter.

"Hey, Miguel, want to come over to my place tonight? I'll make dinner." You asked him over the phone.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course. I want you to come over," You said with a smile as you cleaned your apartment, "I want you to try my cooking for once."

"Then I'll be there."

---------

Miguel was honestly surprised by your request. He was new to this whole Sugar Daddy business and was enjoying it for what it was. Your little dates gave him energy after a long day of Alchemax and the Spider Society.

Your little touches made him want more. Honestly, Miguel was having a hard time holding back. He was enjoying this too much and wanted more from you, but that was not part of the deal. Miguel didn't want to push you away.

Swinging around the city, Miguel tried to think of ways to approach you in the matter. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to tell you that he liked you, but what if you didn't? Miguel only approached you because of how beautiful you were and how much you looked like you needed a break.

This wasn't part of the deal.

"But please say yes."

----------

You could feel the sweat on your palms as you finished prepping dinner. You even wore a sexy dress to get Miguel's attention. Hearing your door bell, you hurried over and let Miguel inside. You greeted Miguel and pecked his cheek, hiding your blush.

"Um, don't mind the mess." You motioned him inside. Miguel tried his best to keep his hands to himself,

"It looks fine. You on the other hand, beautiful." He hummed. You hurried to the table, placing the plate before him, "Smells amazing. You truly didn't have too."

"Like I said...I wanted too." You sat beside Miguel, watching his reaction, "I can only thank you for much. I want to show more of my appreciation."

"You don't have too, baby," Miguel rubbed your head, "I chose to take care of you."

"And if...I want more?"

"Money?"

"No!" You nearly yelled and inhaled deeply, "Sorry, I didn't mean to raise my voice, but I'm not that greedy. I was wondering if maybe, I can give you more....affection."

"I don't want to force you to-"

"I want too!" You told Miguel, grabbing his hand, "Miguel, we've been in this relationship for about two months now. You've done so much for me and honestly...I really, really like you. I want to be with you and kiss you and-"

Miguel was the one to interrupted you this time as he pulled you into a kiss. Both of his hands cupped your cheeks, holding you in place. He could feel shivers run down his spine as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

This was what he needed. What he wanted. Thank whatever God listened, but Miguel was grateful that you shared his feelings in return. Breaking the kiss, Miguel stroked your lips and hummed in response,

"You are such a good girl for me," He whispered. You rested your forehead against his,

"You know, I never mentioned how much of a turn on that is whenever you say it."

You couldn't help but laugh as Miguel immediately grew flustered. He nudged his side and signaled towards his plate. Miguel cleared his throat and finished his meal alongside you. Once the two of you were done, you both decided to watch a movie.

More like make out on the couch.

Your Sugar Daddy soon turned into your 'Daddy' really quick. You now had new bills to worry about, aka pain killers and muscle relaxers because Miguel was a beast in bed.

But hell, it was worth quitting your job for him.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Waaaaaah, I hope you liked it!!!!

@tojishugetiddies

[smusherina]

yard work - chapter 14 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 13 / chapter 15

You told Mrs George (or was it Ms George now? Too soon?) that you'd drive yourself to the school. Under no circumstance did you want to sit in close quarters to Regina. Besides, you knew she'd have to be there significantly earlier because she was performing. If the thought of being near Regina made you uncomfortable, that of being in that building made your skin crawl.

Why you were even bothering to go was beyond you. You'd been made into a laughing stock, a subject for people to talk about and twist around for the rest of the break. There was no PR response you could concoct to fix this, because for one, there was no time, and secondly nobody would want to hear it.

Maybe this wouldn't ruin your entire fucking life. Maybe you'd get over it eventually. Maybe it would all turn out fine. But it didn't feel like that. You could understand Regina more now, could see more clearly what she'd been talking about when she went on that rant.

Thinking all your problems would dissolve once you were old enough was stupid. That could only be applied to something vain, like pimples and pit stains and body odour. But issues like Regina's, utter self-hatred weaponized against society and everybody around her, and yours, chronic doormat syndrome with a side of people pleaser, could not just resolve. One could not pray the gay away, could not sweep it all under the rug.

You looked at the chicken sandwich in your hand. Mrs George had made some for lunch earlier and you'd swung by after the grocery trip to get you one. Then, she'd driven back to yours, helped you pack it all away, and made a weekly meal plan with you while you ate. It'd been nice. And the chicken sandwich was divine.

Your tummy was already full, but you didn't want to stop eating. You almost never got to really stuff yourself. The feeling of it was luxurious, though painful.

You put off going for as long as you could. You left at just the last minute, cutting it dangerously close. Didn't bother changing your clothes or anything. A hoodie and jeans, your usual jacket and scarf. By the time you arrived on the scene, the parking lot was pretty much deserted. You hustled to the gym where the thing was set up and easily found Mrs George and Kylie.

"C'mon, it's- it's- it's almost starting!" Kylie hissed at you, patting the seat next to her.

"Okay okay!" You whisper shouted back, mustering a little excitement for the little girl's sake.

Most of the performances were utterly dull. To be fair, the talent show was also an opportunity to get extra credit for some classes. Several people from your Spanish class took the stage. There was poetry and a couple songs, all mediocre at best. A pair performed a salsa number, which was surprising on two accounts. One, they were both dudes and two, they were good.

After Damien's dramatic rendition of Christina Aguilera's Beautiful, it was time for The Plastics to take the stage. Karen, Gretchen, and Cady were slowly revealed by the curtain. Cady stood front and centre, Gretchen to her left and Karen to the right.

Unlike many of the other dance performances of the night, the highlight was certainly not the choreography. The wow factor was hinged on the simple fact that it was them, specifically these girls, in latex, borderline slutty Santa costumes doing a provocative dance. The audience was not thrilled, the adults' reactions ranging from mildly uncomfortable to downright scandalized, while the other high schoolers looked on in either lust or disappointment that the act was missing the thing that had made it interesting in the first place.

Regina George had been the main attraction. Without her, without her effortless stage presence making the dance seem interesting, it was actually pretty embarrassing.

You had to look away when they started doing stunts. Karen went to the floor on all fours crab walk style, while Gretchen positioned herself behind her, and Cady geared up to- you couldn't watch. Suddenly, the music cut out and a heavy thump accompanied by someone's breath wooshing out of their lungs echoed through the gymnasium.

Kylie covered her mouth in a valiant effort not to laugh. You bumped your shoulder into hers. She bumped back. Mrs George had gasped and almost surged out of her seat. A beat of silence. Then, like water rippling, laughter began to bubble out of people.

You still couldn't watch. You could hear heels clicking on stage, groaning, and some frantic whispering. Kylie had tears in her eyes and her whole body was shaking.

"What's happening?" You whispered to her.

"Cady... She... Belly flopped the stage." She managed to get out before bursting into giggles.

"What? Is she, like, okay?"

"She's getting up. The principle's getting on stage." Kylie reported while you kept your eyes firmly on your lap. "He's gonna say something, oh, Gretchen's taking the mic-"

You had to look up when you heard your full name being spoken into the microphone, but regretted it as soon as Gretchen finished the sentence:

"-is a lesbian!" Quiet. Again.

You looked down so fast your neck cracked. Through the tinnitus in your ears, you could vaguely hear the principal admonishing Gretchen, the murmurs in the hall, their heels clicking off stage.

Why was Gretchen of all people announcing your sexuality at the talent show? What did she have to do with any of this? Maybe Regina had put her up to it. It didn't seem planned, though. You thought that Regina and Gretchen weren't talking.

"What's a lesbian?" Kylie asked you, all innocence and wide eyes.

"Kylie, don't ask that, it's not appropriate." Mrs George said.

"Why? Is it a bad word?" She turned to her mother. You took deep breaths and clenched your fists. Unclench. Clench. Everything was going to be fine.

"No, but it's not good to accuse somebody like that." Mrs George tried to explain gently, but you could tell she was out of her depth.

"But what does it mean?"

"Kylie, I said don't-"

"It means a girl that likes girls." You cut in.

"Huh... So like how boys like girls, but a girl likes a girl?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Okay."

You would've paid so much money for it to be that simple. Why you couldn't be afforded the benefit of the doubt that you weren't a pervert, riddled with disease, and out to get people? Why was it so unbelievable that you didn't want to change the world, you just wanted to get married someday? Why did kissing girls on the mouth make you a predator?

You suspected there were no real answers to those questions. Fear. Repression. The patriarchy. Religion. The wage gap. Whatever.

The show went on. You felt numb. Realistically, what could you even do? Stand up and shout that it wasn't true? That would only serve to put a name to a face. The next talents came and performed their mediocrity to the mildly interested crowd. There was a pretty good sleight-of-hand magician. Somebody had trained their cat to do tricks.

Eventually, it was Regina's turn to take the stage. You couldn't help but perk up when they announced her. Mrs George was out of her seat immediately, kneeling on the pathway to the stage with a video camera poised to film her daughter.

The curtains parted. She stood in the centre of the stage, mic stand in front of her. She smiled a little, eyes on her mom presumably.

Her hair was done in soft waves, framing her face so beautifully. Natural makeup kept light, a compromise between the bare face that you liked and the full beat she was into. She was wearing an old white tee shirt, the logo so faded you could barely make it out. That had been your shirt, you realized as you narrowed your eyes. You'd gotten it from summer camp, one that Regina hadn't been able to come with you to. After you came back she'd confiscated all the stuff you'd gotten there. Tee shirts, crafts projects, a whittled duck, braided cord. You'd always assumed she had thrown it all in the trash. On her wrist was a braided leather cord and a wood bead friendship bracelet. She had on Lee jeans that hugged her hips and thighs exquisitely. Those had been her mom's.

In her hands was the photo album. Everybody could read the front, Reggie & Jorts.

"Notice me... Take my hand..." She crooned into the mic as the soft melody of Briney Spears' Everytime began to play.

"Why are we strangers when our love is strong? Why carry on without me?"

You felt like you couldn't breathe.

"And every time I try to fly I fall without my wings," Her eyes scanned the crowd. You wondered if she was looking for you. "I feel so small, I guess I need you, baby,"

She found you. Your eyes met, hers clear and blue and somehow so sad, even as she glittered up on stage. Even with everybody's eyes on her, she was looking at you.

"And every time I see you in my dreams, I see your face," She sang so prettily, every note like a gentle caress, a soothing balm to your ears. You did so love to hear her sing.

"It's haunting me. I guess I need you, baby," Her eyes closed, like she couldn't focus on two things at once; looking at you and singing. She swayed gently with the rhythm, feeling the soft instrumental in her feet. Sneakers. Simple, white sneakers.

Her eyes opened again with the next lyrics. You tried not to overthink it, tried not to imagine things that weren't there, but maybe there was a glassiness to her eyes that hadn't been there before.

"I make-believe, that you are here. It's the only way that I see clear. What have I done? You seem to move on easy."

You swallowed, eyes closing. You weren't sure what to think. Was this her way of apologizing? Was she trying to make up for what'd been said? Hadn't she just earlier today made your life living hell?

You leaned your elbows onto your knees and cradled your face in your hands. What were you supposed to do now? She was singing to you. This was the ultimate show of sincerity, of vulnerability, but what were you meant to do with it all in your hands? Your chest tightened and your breaths shortened.

The song continued, you knew the lyrics by heart, but only once she sang the next part did you open your eyes again.

"I may have made it rain, please forgive me. My weakness caused you pain, and this song's my sorry,"

You understood. Cowardly as it may have been, Regina was apologizing to you. Though the references were obscure enough that most, if not all, people would not know who she was singing to, it was quite clear this was a song for somebody.

You rubbed at your throat. It felt constricted, like something was tightening around it.

You couldn't shake the feeling that it was too late. As much as you would've liked to weep in gratitude, be swept in the relief that she was taking you back, irreversible things had happened. None of this made sense. If she hadn't pulled the stunt today then who had? Had she told somebody? Had Janis told?

Regardless, you were an outcast. If not, then ridiculed. You were scared. You had become a target. You didn't think anybody at Northshore was capable of the atrocities you saw reported on the news, but nobody who'd become a victim did until it was too late.

As it was, it didn't matter whether or not you forgave Regina. It didn't matter if she forgave you.

"I guess I need you, baby," As the last line of the song carried throughout the gymnasium, and after the split second of stunned silence before people began cheering and clapping, you got up and left.

You'd smoke a cigarette and get out of here once and for all. Then, you'd drive home and call dad. You'd tell him everything, tell him you needed to switch schools and that you were gay and that you'd made a real mess of things.

You'd take what was given, reap what'd been sown, and forget all about this goddamned town.

Forget all about Regina George.

Notes: Took a bit longer with this one. Sorry for the suspense! Here, have some more unresolved stuff! Also, I fucking love that song by Britney Spears. I've known Regina was gonna sing it for J since pretty much the beginning and finally, she did.

Taglist will be posted separately. If you want to be added to the list, please comment on that post! Thank you!

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 34

part 1 | part 33 | ao3

Steve ducks his head against the flurries falling outside The Hideout as he makes his way for the entrance and tries really, really hard to not to feel totally out of place.

He agreed to meet Robin and her friends here separately because he was coming straight from a shift, but he’s kind of regretting that now. The only black thing he had in his wardrobe that was at all weather appropriate was a tight-fitting black knit pullover with a high collar and a silver zipper down the front, and he feels like some dorky, supportive golf dad coming to cheer on his rebellious son after a long day out on the green. The light wash jeans and silver wristwatch aren’t really helping matters.

Jesus. He should have let Robin dress him.

The guy at the ticket counter seems to agree because he gives Steve a weird look when he approaches and asks, “Are you lost?”

“Uh, no.” And if it comes out slightly more bitchy than he intended, well—

“Five dollars,” the guy scowls.

Strike that. Maybe it didn’t come out nearly bitchy enough. “The flyer says it’s two.”

The guy eyes him up with a tight, sarcastic smile and pops his chewing gum. “For you it’s five.”

Oh, my god. Operation Woo Your Man might be dead before it starts, because Steve’s about to smash the ticket booth window and pummel this fucking guy.

“I already got yours!” Robin calls brightly, jogging up behind him on the sidewalk and waving a lime green wristband. “He’s good,” she tells the guy, then tells Steve, “Eddie said to give you this.”

Ticket guy frowns, and Steve gloats as Robin fixes the bracelet to his wrist. Yeah, buddy, you heard that right; I'm with the band.

Robin drags him into the bar, and he stops her just inside the door, hugging her tight enough to lift her up on tiptoe, smacking a kiss to the side of her head. He jostles her around until something in her neck pops, and when he lets her go she groans, “Oh, my god, do that again.”

She spins around, crossing her arms over her chest. Steve grabs her by the elbows; shakes her like a piggy bank until her spine goes crack-crack-crack.

“Wow,” she sighs dreamily when he sets her down. “Marry me.”

“You can’t just marry me for my massage services.”

“I know; it’s tragic. Anyway, come on.” She takes his hand. “Everyone’s already at the table.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Robin doesn’t answer — probably can’t hear him over the loud rock music pouring through the speakers — but she weaves them through the venue, skirting the edge of the main floor.

Steve’s never actually been in here, but it’s pretty much what he expected: black walls, black floor, black leather jackets on the handful of regulars. The stage is off to their left, already set up with Eddie’s band’s gear by the looks of it, though he doesn’t see them anywhere. Must be backstage getting ready.

In front of the stage is a small, empty dance floor, flanked by rickety tables with mismatched chairs, and overhead there’s a balcony with a sound booth and more seats. To their right, the main bar: a long, ancient dark wood counter that’s been graffitied to absolute shit, covered in band stickers and beer labels and ‘so and so wuz here’s, and just up ahead, lining the far wall, Steve spots a row of wraparound booths.

Dark red leather, the stuffing spilling out through time-worn splits. Only one of them is occupied. Steve can’t make out much from this distance beyond the vague shape of the people sitting there, but considering it’s the only table with any chicks at it, he figures that’s their group.

Suddenly, Robin stops. Turns around to look at him; drops his hand and bites her lip. “Okay, so. Don’t get mad…”

Steve narrows his eyes. He knows that guilty grimace. Whatever it is, he’s definitely about to get mad about it, or at very least annoyed. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Robin.”

“Okay!” She steps to the side, and he marches toward the table to try and get a better view, Robin trailing after him, rambling, “For the record, I really didn’t do it, I swear! But, like— well, Beth is friends with Fred, and Fred is on the school paper, so I guess he just—”

The details shift into focus: tiny frame, rigid posture. Big, curly dark brown hair.

Oh, son of a bitch. No. No.

Nancy Wheeler’s here.

—

part 35

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[021894s]

THE GIRL FROM THE BAR ⭑ lhs (COMING AUGUST 6 @ 6 pm PST)

SYNOPSIS: After a tough workday, you visit a quiet bar to unwind, but are harassed by a persistent stranger. The charming bartender, Heeseung, steps in, defending you, sparking an unexpected conversation. As you connect, you feels your stress melt away, drawn to Heeseung's kindness and charm, setting the stage for a blossoming romance.

GENRE: romance, mutual pining

PAIRING: bartender!heeseung x f!reader

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m & f receiving)

WC: tbd

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST!!!!

It's an unusually quiet Wednesday night when you push open the door of the dimly lit bar. The cool air inside is a welcome contrast to the stifling heat of the summer evening. You make your way to the bar and take a seat, the events of your rough day still weighing heavily on your mind.

As you settle onto the stool, a man approaches, a sleazy grin spreading across his face. "Hey, beautiful," he says, leaning in closer than you'd like.

You roll your eyes, not in the mood for this. "Not happening," you reply, hoping he'd take the hint and leave you alone.

But he doesn't. "C'mon, don't be like that," he persists, his persistence grating on your nerves.

Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the tension. "Pretty sure no means no."

You look up to see a man standing behind the bar, his gaze fixed firmly on the man bothering you. The guy scoffs, looking the man up and down. "Oh, and what are you, her boyfriend?"

His expression remains calm, but there's a steely edge to his voice. "No, but I don't need to be to know how to respect women."

The man's bravado falters, and he mutters under his breath, "Whatever, you weren't that hot anyway," before slinking away.

He turns his attention to you, his features softening into a concerned expression. "Sorry about that. We get the average asshole in here every night."

You're momentarily stunned by his beauty, the way his dark hair frames his face, and the warmth in his eyes, his lean build that wasn’t remarkably bulky, but just enough to make your mind race at the thought of being wrapped in those arms. It takes you a second to find your voice. "N-no, it's okay. Thank you for that."

He smiles, a genuine and reassuring smile that makes your heart flutter. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

You manage a small smile in return, feeling the tension of your day begin to melt away. "A gin and tonic, please."

"Coming right up," he says, his hands moving deftly to prepare your drink. You watch him, fascinated by the ease with which he works, the smoothness of his movements.

When he places the drink in front of you, you take a grateful sip, savoring the way the cool liquid seems to calm your frayed nerves. He leans against the counter, his gaze steady on you. "Bad day?"

You let out a bitter laugh. "You could say that. Work was a nightmare. Everything that could go wrong did."

He nods sympathetically. "I know how that feels. Sometimes it seems like the universe just has it out for you."

You raise an eyebrow, a playful smirk on your lips. "You? I can't imagine someone like you having a bad day."

He chuckles, a low, comforting sound. "Looks can be deceiving. I'm Heeseung, by the way."

"Y/N," you say, offering a small smile in return. "So, what brought you to bartending? Surely someone like you has other options."

He shrugs, a hint of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. "I needed a job, and I like talking to people. Plus, it's a good way to pay the bills while I figure out what I really want to do."

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the alcohol begin to take the edge off your day. "And what do you really want to do?"

Heeseung's expression turns thoughtful. "I'm not entirely sure yet. Something creative, maybe. Music or art. I just know I don't want to be stuck in a nine-to-five grind forever."

You nod in understanding, your eyes sparkling with interest. "I get that. Sometimes I feel like I'm just going through the motions, doing what I have to do to get by. It's nice to meet someone who dreams big."

"Yeah, but sometimes you need to take a step back and figure out what makes you happy," Heeseung says, his gaze intent on yours. "Life's too short to be miserable all the time. And you seem like someone who deserves to be happy."

You feel a warmth spread through you, not just from the drink but from the unexpected connection you feel with this charming stranger. You continue talking, sharing stories and laughter, and as the evening wears on, you find yourself feeling lighter, the burden of your day lifting with each passing moment.

Heeseung leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. "You know, I don't usually see someone as intriguing as you walk through that door. It's a nice change of pace."

Your heart flutters at his words, and you can't help but smile. "Well, I'm glad I came in then. I think I needed this more than I realized."

By the time you finish your drink, you realize you haven't felt this relaxed in a long time. "Thank you, Heeseung," you say sincerely. "I didn't realize how much I needed this."

He smiles, a genuine, heartfelt expression. "Anytime, Y/N. Sometimes all it takes is a good conversation and a little company to turn things around."

You stand up, feeling a sense of clarity you hadn't had before. "I'll definitely be back."

"I'll be here," he says, his eyes lingering on yours. "Looking forward to it."

As you walk out of the bar, your spirits lifted and your mind clearer than it had been in a long time, you can't help but think about when you'll see Heeseung again.

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO TAGLIST!!!

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

be constantly in own world for me (level 2/3 autism) mean like. think pretty much only about self. understand only self. entire world just me n special interest, sometimes/often times not even include own basic needs, like “hair greasy clump body itchy need shower” (unconsciously feel bad sensory, n make very uncomfortable annoyed easily frustrated, but don’t consciously know am feeling extra irritated or that am feel this way because need shower). n world often limited to thing in front of me. n sometimes not even include thing in front of me. see it (as in physically capable of vision) but not see it. n thing, people, any that not put infront of me for while, stop realize they existed in first place.

n be in own world, only think only able know self, mean that, see self as normal, as norm. everyone (this abstract concept of other people that have memorized like you memorize history fact for test), everyone like me. not even “am like everyone,” but that everyone is like me. everyone same ability as me. everyone think like me.

“everyone think like that to extent”

right. to extent. thing is am far greater than that normal “extent”

to point that average day, ask me, n would only able explain that, “think everyone same ability as me, everyone think like me. everyone exist like me.” stay at vague generalization because not able think any deeper not able think of examples. to give example in this situation mean on some level need have ability understand “am think this normal but others may think it abnormal for them”. n. most times not have ability to second part, because in own world theory of mind.

sometimes try force it. try really hard force it. try really hard think, look at other people, try make sense try find what exact different. but can’t force something not have ability. so go back rely on scripting. sometimes advanced scripting n rephrased scripting.

special interest in something social-related let me cheat little bit. appear more capable. like break down complex autism community disability community dynamics. but am videotaping camera. computer analyzing research data. not participant. it thankfully happen, but it only happen because special interest allow it be part of own world, n it only part of own world because can only see these (supposedly very humanly n organic n messy) interactions as flow charts, maps, equations, inanimate objects. closest metaphor may be, with this special interest lens that allow these social dynamics enter own world, am looking at these “people” these social dynamics similar to regular person playing the sims n thinking of sims character made out of code that they control.

rare rare times able suddenly realization of outside world. usually happen in flash. n then end. n then left to chase that feeling trying so hard remember what it felt like so can memorize it like another history fact to memorize for test removed from source removed from emotion, to make self appear know what am talking about know more than am capable of, next time someone ask, “isn’t everyone like this?”

just had flash of that that lead to write this whole thing. but already gone. something about… “those funny ‘gen z fix up work force’ stories. they actually people same age as me?’” something about sudden realize what people my age my life stage expected do usually do. something about think am so normal but actually am missing out “so many” things (what things?).

friend tell me “by be young person who severely disabled you missing out so much on same age activities”. n. inside think, (i am but) “don’t know. …am i?” n for it be genuine question, or disbelief question.

n respond with “haha, yea.”

it not lying. it just script. am don’t know what my script means.

don’t follow up by ask me “so what you think you missing out on?”

don’t know. don’t have that script (a script am don’t know meaning to) yet that make other people think am understand, either.

[please don’t say you “relate” or “feel same” “this me” or similar unless am know who you are.]

[oceane4loveu]

𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧. ݁₊ ⊹ ✩

Heyyyyy starfish! So now we're going to talk about how to create an alter ego and how it can be beneficial.

What is an alter ego?

Expression borrowed from Latin. A second self. A person to whom one grants absolute confidence and who is charged with acting in one's place. We also say colloquially: It's my alter ego, It's another me. So the alter ego is just another version of us that helps us reach a goal, some celebrities also use alter egos to evolve in their lives:

Beyoncé- Sasha Fierce: Beyoncé created the alter ego Sasha Fierce to express a bolder and more confident version of herself on stage.

Nicki Minaj- Roman Zolanski: Nicki Minaj has several alter egos, including Roman Zolanski, an eccentric and provocative character who represents a wilder side of her personality.

Lady Gaga- Jo Calderone: Lady Gaga has portrayed Jo Calderone, a male character, in some performances, exploring themes of gender fluidity and identity.

Now it's time to define the why. The why: the purpose of the alter ego, why I create it. Is it to leave weaknesses, adopt personality traits, etc. IT MUST BE STRONG, THAT'S WHAT KEEPS YOU CONSISTENT.

Then choose New traits. Things I miss or struggle with. Personality, values, hobbies. Why I admire certain people. understand every little insignificant detail of my alter ego. How would he act in a stressful situation. How does he approach his career, his dating. What is his state of mind in a romantic relationship. How does he act if he feels mistreated and angry. How would he act if he fell in love. How would he fix a bad day, what does a good day look like for him. If he speaks in public, how does he approach it? Funny, serious, is there any preparation, freestyle. Here are some steps to help you (I do them to create my alter ego)

1.MYSELF

My aura

My mindset

My confidence

My personality traits

What do I look like?

What do I dress like?

2.MONEY

How financial abundant I am?

Where do I invest my money?

What kind of things do I splurge on?

How do I save my money?

What does my money get me? Is it the freedom of time, is it luxury goods, is it travel...?

How do I get this money?

How do I make it work for me?

3. CAREER AND OPPORTUNITIES

What do I want my job to look like?

How often do I work?

Am I my own boss or do I work for someone else?

In what industry do I work?

What is my work / life balance like?

What does my office (workplace) look like?

What city am I working in?

Do I want to be around celebrities / in front of a camera / do something creative / fly over the world / win awards for what I do / be able to retire early, etc?

4. FRIENDS AND FAMILY

How is my relationships with my family?

How often do I see them?

How many effort do I put in them?

Can I treat them all the time?

How is my relationships with my family?

How often do I see them?

How are my friends like?

5. ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

How am I treated in my romantic relationship?

How do I feel loved?

What love language am I receiving?

What me and my partner do?

How do we spend time together?

Do we move in?

Do we get married?

Do we have kids?

What do our dates look like?

What do I do for them?

What is our dynamic?

6. HOUSE / LIVING

The city that I live in

What does my house / apartment look like?

What does it feel like?

What do I gain from it? Is it sense of escape?

How many room do I have in it?

How is my closet?

How many bathroom do I have?

What it is a special things I have in my house / apartment?

7. HOBBIES AND HAPPINESS

How do I add fulfillment into my life on an everyday basis?

What are my hobbies?

What are my routines?

8. pleasure

How do I spend my weekends? How do they look like? Is it cozy at home, traveling the world, partying with my friends, etc?

What do I eat?

What kind of exercises do I do?

Choose your avatar: how your alter ego appears. Give a different name, change appearance, hairstyle, makeup, clothes.

Values ​​and core identity. Think about their story. What is important to them. Where do they want to go in life. What they are not as interested in. Preferences, strengths, what motivates them. What has been their story so far. Maybe they have always been successful, have good memories. Very good athlete, A+ student, etc.

The When. When to bring out the alter ego. At university, at work, in meetings or every day. For this part here are some methods that can help you bring out your alter ego:

"HOT ME METHOD"

- "What would a hot me do?"

- don't idolize your alter ego, it's not better than you.

- If necessary, the alter ego can have a set time and date (turn it off after the necessary time has passed)

- Practice:

- How does the sexy version of yourself walk, talk, and dress?

- Values? Habits? similar to the "steps"

- what bold moves have you been wanting to try? - This method is not just about appearance, it is more about changing your mindset and actions

- Implementing habits, developing skills and intelligence, being able to speak with confidence

- NOT a subliminal that maximizes appearance, NOT forcing parts you feel uncomfortable with (wearing a crop top, pleasing people, etc.)

"BUILD YOUR SELF-CONCEPT"

- Self-Concept (SC) = how we see ourselves (REALLY believe about ourselves, not what we say)

- "I am blessed/cursed", "My opinions matter/don't matter to people", "I am lucky/unlucky", etc.

- Alter ego can help expand what you think you deserve/what is normal for you

- Consciousness = perception = reality

- Believe that you HAVE THE POWER to change, you have the power to change your personal reality

Now let's talk about my alter ego! Her name is soo-ah which is a Korean name that means Beautiful Oceans. Why did I choose this name? Because my first name also means ocean so I thought it was the perfect name for my alter ego.

As for my alter ego, she is introverted but has a group of lovely friends, she is funny and laughs a lot, she has a mysterious aura, she does her dream job, she travels and has a lot of hobbies, she takes care of herself, she heals her trauma, has a healthy relationship, she reads a lot, she does the best for herself…

I made a playlist of music that reminds me of her that I will listen to every morning to help me feel like her. I prefer high vibration music to stay motivated because the songs of the weeknd make me less energetic I find.

To visualize what my alter ego could look like, I used the everskies app and created a simple vision board

That's all! On Monday when I go to work I'm going to give way to my alter ego and see how things evolve! I hope this helps you!

ﾒ𝟶𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞

[kaiser1ns]

#. 10 MINUTES

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗿𝗶𝗻 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff. mentions of real-life players and federations. you and rin being secretly in love with each other for ten minutes straight.

TIMESTAMP — SWEETEST LOVE

It was practice time, all the team members were walking out of the locker room and onto the field, and Y/N was giving everyone a piece of candy, there's got to be some sweetness in this life after all.

"Here, Hakimi! To strengthen up your defense!" she said handing him a silver-wrapped candy and the defender just smiled "Thank you, Y/N." Everyone loved her, the young girl who came along with their new striker from Japan, who came last and got not a candy with a silver wrapper, but a golden one. Y/N's smile brightened more at the sight of Itoshi Rin — PXG's new weapon.

"Rin-chan, take this please!" she said, her face lighting up with happiness, her eyes starting to sparkle and it wasn't because of the sun, the cameraman is having a lot of fun documenting this cute moment between the two of them.

Rin looked at her, listening to every word that came out of her mouth and those soft plump lips that had some sort of lipstick, he didn't bother to think much about the makeup product. The striker didn't even noticed how he was staring at Y/N the entire time until she looked at him with a confused expression and he immediately looked away, avoiding her gaze.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes."

"Okay, then. Enjoy your training, Rin."

He took the candy from her hand and walked forward with a small smile on his face and hoped it wasn't going to be part of the video.

TIMESTAMP — AWARD FOR THE BIGGEST IDIOT

The hosts were talking, the audience was looking at them at the big stage, while two youngsters were whispering things to one another. They sat next to each other, of course, and next to them were other famous football players with their spouses. She put her hand to his ear to block out the noise and whisper to him until she was caught in action and the camera was on them, hearing the loud cheers from the people who are now standing and looking at them — well more specific to Rin because he just won.

Y/N's eyes immediately widened as she stood up grabbing Rin's hand making him stand up and he just squeezed her hand until she let go to applause too. He cleared his throat, fixing his tie ready to walk alone to the stage when he turned on his heel and grabbed Y/N's hand once again.

To say this was going to make the press and his fangirls crazy is one thing, but to him it was something normal because was it that uncommon to go and receive an award with your plus one? Well there's first time for everything, nothing to lose.

TIMESTAMP — MARRY EACHOTHER ALREADY!

The dressing room buzzed with models and stylists dashing around, preparing for the big show. Amid the clothing chaos, Rin sat like a statue in front of a mirror, clearly uncomfortable in his ill-fitting outfit, casting glances toward Y/N, who was absorbed in the task of checking the list with the football players that were invited from the team.

Sensing his discomfort, Y/N finally looked over, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of his fashion disaster. Without a word, she walked over to him, her expression was gentle — like a wife to a husband. Standing before him, Y/N began to button his shirt properly, her fingers brushing against his chest, sending a shiver down his spine and butterfly in his stomach. She adjusted his tie, her touch light but assured, and the tension in Rin's shoulders eased with each small adjustment she made.

Next, she selected a sleek pair of cufflinks and a simple, elegant watch, it was not his style but it was perfect for him. Rin held his breath as her hand lingered on his wrist, fastening the watch with a tender touch. He could feel his heart race, a silent testament to his growing affection for her.

Stepping back to admire her work, Y/N met Rin’s gaze, her own eyes shining brightly by the well done outfit. Rin, usually reserved and distant, found himself utterly taken by her whole being. With a final, approving nod, Y/N turned to leave, a slight blush on her cheeks. Rin reached out, gently catching her hand for a brief moment, his silent gratitude and admiration conveyed through his tender grip. She smiled softly in return, expecting him to say something and he did "Please, go wear that dress."

Safe to say, they were the stars of the show even though they were the guests.

"What are you watching?" a way-too-familiar voice spoke behind you as you were seated on the couch enjoying some alone time until that someone decided to interrupt.

"Oh, nothing, just some YouTube compilations," you replied, not bothering to turn around.

"Compilations of us being in love for ten minutes?" First, he comes home unannounced, and now he's asking questions and preventing you from watching more. "You're asking a lot of questions for someone who promised to come home early," you retorted, still staring at the screen.

"And you know that we are married. No need to watch some videos from years ago." He dropped his luggage on the ground, took off his jacket, and sat next to you on the couch. His body finally relaxed against the soft material as he exhaled heavily and closed his eyes — finally, some peace and quiet.

"Rude," you said, eyes glued to the TV, the video still playing. Great, now you would have to replay it all from the beginning. "Also, go shower, you stink."

He didn't said anything, wrapping his arms around you despite your protests. "I missed you," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. You tried to push him away, half-heartedly complaining about the sweat and smell. "Rin, you’re all gross from practice!" You could feel his heart beating fast as he pulled you closer, matching the rhythm of your own. Sighing, you finally gave in, resting your head against his chest. "Yeah, I missed you too."

After a moment of comfortable silence, you broke it. "But we are going to watch this video. Also, I have saved a few more. Did you know that people thought me and Isagi had something going on?"

You laughed, remembering the absurd assumptions. He raised an eyebrow, distributed by the fact that they shipped you with Isagi Yoichi. You rolled your eyes playfully at him, well it couldn't be helped since you were one of Blue Lock staff members. "Please, everyone knows you're the only one for me. People were waiting for the moment when you would propose."

He tried to hide the little smile that played on his lips, leaning in to kiss you softly. His lips brushed against yours, gentle and tentative, as if testing the waters. Your breath caught, and you instinctively moved closer, deepening the kiss. Gentle hands cupped your cheek, fingers threading through your hair, as his kiss grew more confident, more insistent, he wanted more. "How lukewarm."

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work