#he's going by tinder rules I guess

[alexalblondo]

no comment ...

[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: Colby is readers fake date to a wedding

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, reader has a bridezilla for a sister, fake dating, hair pulling, fingering, cute pet names, unprotected slightly drunken sex, filthy

Word count: 5.6k | not edited

Not a request

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"You'll be at the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, right?" Your mother asks, causing your, bride to be, sister's head to perk up.

"Yes, mom. I'll be there." You close your laptop, leaning back against the couch, "What time again?"

"How do you-"

Your mom cuts your sister off, "It's at six, but try to be there no later than five thirty."

"Do you have a date?" Your sister asks turning towards you, "Because I want it to be an even number, you know." You take a slow, almost silent breath.

You didn't want to lie, but you also didn't want to sit and be ridiculed by your bridezilla sister, so you did what you had to.

You lied.

"Yes, Clara. I have a frickin date, now would you just-"

"You do?" Your mother and sister both say at the same time, both slightly shocked.

"Yeah." You stand up, tucking your laptop between your arm and side, "I haven't said anything because it's new and I don't want you guys scaring him off."

"We won't." Clara says getting up, "Who is it?"

"You'll know when we come to the rehearsal dinner." You look at her, and she smirks, "Is this guy even real? You've been know for making up fake boyfriends before."

"I was seven, Clara. Would you let that go!?" You walk away from her, "Please.." you stop, turning around, "Just please.. don't ruin this for me."

"Why would I ruin it for you? It's my day. If anything shouldn't ruin anything it's you for me." Her words instantly piss you off, "Alright. I'm going to leave now before I-"

"We'll see you Friday, honey." Your mom cuts in, walking over. She lowers her voice as you make it to the front door, "You know how she is, y/n. You grew up with her for heavens sake."

You roll your eyes, "Yeah I was kind of hoping she'd grow out of her bratty personality but I guess we all don't get what we wish for."

Your mom kisses your head, "I know. But you'll understand one day." She smiles slightly, "I'm excited to meet this mystery man."

Yeah, me too, you think, "I'm sure he'll be excited to meet you guys." You smile, "Alright, I'll see you Friday. Love you."

"Love you. Drive careful." Your mom says before watching you walk down to your car. You get in, turning the car on and your mind instantly starts to race.

Who is going to be your secret mystery man?

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The next day, after an hour of scouring Tinder for someone who could potentially want to platonically join you for a wedding, there's a knock on your door.

You toss your phone down as you stand up, walking over to open your door.

In your mind, you thought it was probably just your sister coming over with another rule or more questions, but to your surprise, it's Colby.

"Oh my god." You gasp, practically jumping into his arms, "When did you get back?!" He walks into your apartment, arms still around your waist, "This morning."

"How was your trip?" You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning back to look up at him, "I didn't think you'd be back for another week or so."

He turns to shut your door, "Yeah, so did we. Our plans got cut short and honestly Sam and I both agreed that we didn't want to get arrested again so we skipped out on the abandoned school."

You laugh, shaking your head, "I wouldn't have liked that phone call, but I mean, at the same time it might have gotten me out of going to my sister's stupid wedding."

Colby raises his brows, "Oh yeah." He frowns slightly, "That is this weekend isn't it."

You lean on the counter, nodding your head slowly, "Yep, and I am absolutely dreading it."

"Why? Isn't everything pretty much done?" He leans against the counter across from you and you laugh, "Everything on their end, yes. My end, not so much."

"What do you mean?" Colby asks and you can feel your face heating up from embarrassment, "Well.. um." Colby laughs slightly, "Come on, y/n. Tell me."

"Clara wants all the guests to bring a plus one." You start out and Colby nods, "okay?" You sigh, "And me.. being the loner that I am, don't have one and to make a long story short-"

"You told them you did when you really didn't just go get them off your back?" Colby finishes your sentence and you look at him kind of shocked, "Y-yeah. That."

He chuckles slightly and shakes his head before looking at you, "Do I know you? Or do I know you?"

"You know me." You smile, "So I've been on Tinder scouring the options for someone who would remotely se-"

"No." Colby cuts you off again, "You don't need to use that. You can't trust anyone on there." He shakes his head, "I'm back early. I'll go with you."

"What?" You laugh slightly, "Really?"

He nods, "Well yeah, you can trust me and you need a date, and I'm available, so." He smiles up at you, "What do you say? Can I be your date to this wedding?"

You smile, tilting your head, "I would love for you to be my date to this wedding."

Colby stays for a little bit longer, you fill him in on the dress code, what the menu is, and everything else involving Clara's strict rules.

"Are you okay with staying in a hotel Friday into Saturday, possibly Saturday into Sunday? Depending on how the night goes and how drunk I get to avoid my snobby family."

He laughs, "You had me at open bar, so I figured we'd be staying somewhere."

"Glad you picked up on that already." You laugh, letting out a sigh, "I have to go pick up my dress. Clara insists that guests wear Navy blue or black and her bridesmaids are in a pale, dusty pink color." You roll your eyes and Colby tilts his head, "I don't know, I think navy blue will look good on you."

You shrug, "We'll see."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It honestly wasn't weird that you and Colby were going to a wedding together. You and him have been good friends for so long, and honestly, it feels right.

You can trust him. He won't push anything on you that you don't want. He knows enough about your family because he's who you constantly bitch to.

He's your best friend, as you are his.

It was totally platonic.

Or so you both thought.

Colby was going to be there any minute and you can feel your heart gradually thumping harder the closer the time got to his arrival.

"Shit." You huff, looking at your back in the mirror at the bow that is lopsided and definitely not up to par for tonight's event.

There's a knock on the door and you hurry out, heels clicking against the hardwood floor until you stop at the door, "Hey."

"Wow." Colby nods as he walks in, "I was right."

"Right about what?" You say as you turn to face him from closing the door. He motions to your dress, "Navy blue looks good on you."

You smile, "Thank you. Can you tie this for me?" You turn around and Colby steps towards you, "Let me guess, it has to be perfect?"

You laugh, "Yes sir, it does."

You feel the strings pull against your skin, "Alright. Let me know how I did." You nod and walk back into your room, turning to look at the bow in the mirror, "Better than I could have done."

You grab your suitcase, containing your other dress for the actual wedding and comfy clothes for after, "Alright." You sigh looking up at him, "Let's do this."

"You have an hour and a half to collect yourself, y/n." He chuckles as he takes your bag, "I think everything will be fine."

You raise your brows, making sure you have everything before you walk out, "that's not enough, Colby. You know that. There's a reason you've never met them."

"Do you think they'll like me?" He presses the elevator button before looking at you. You smirk slightly, "You're a successful YouTuber with awards, I don't think you have any worry."

He nods, laughing as you both step onto the elevator, "If that's all it'll take."

"Trust me, once I tell them who you are, they're going to try and steal you every chance they get." You look over at him, "My mom will want to know all about the ghostly other side."

"I'll be happy to inform them." He smiles and you shake your head, "You don't have to. I know you do that stuff on the daily, so it's totally okay for you to say no."

He chuckles, "Well just take it one step at a time."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The car ride consisted of you and Colby giving your do's and don't's, and to be honest.. There isn't much either of you listed in the don't category.

Colby pulls into the parking spot outside of the restaurant, "You got this." He looks over at you, "If it gets, too bad, but focus on me. I got you."

You smile, "Thank you for doing this."

"You don't have to thank me. I'm just glad you didn't have to come with a random asshole." He laughs, "You ready?"

You look forward, taking a deep breath as you see your mom and dad walk in, "I don't have a choice.. so.." you look back over at him, "Let's go."

He gets out, walking over to your door and opening it up, "You'll be fine." He closes your door, turning to wrap his arm around your waist, "I promise."

You smile, wrapping your arm around his waist, "I owe you, big time for this."

"I'm sure we can come up with something." He smiles as he opens the door, allowing you to walk in first, "Where do we go?"

You nod towards the side, "I think there in a priva-"

"Hello, are you here for the y/l/n-Marris rehearsal dinner?" The host asks and you nod, "Yes, we are." He nods, "Follow me this way."

He leads you to the side and your hand searches for Colby's, squeezing nervously as you grow closer to facing your family, "Right in here."

The host motions in and you nod. Colby gives him a quick 'thank you' before walking in.

"There she is!" Your mom says standing up, walking over to be the first one to greet you, "How was the drive?"

You hug her, "It was good. Mom." You motion to Colby, "This is Colby. Colby, this is my mom, Heather."

"It's so nice to finally meet you." Your mom says laying a hand on his shoulder. Clara walks up, "So he isn't a made up boyfriend like before. I honestly can say that I'm surprised, y/n."

Clara smirks at you before reaching her hand out to take Colby's, "I'm Clara. The bride to be. Thank you so much for coming."

Colby glances at you and you raise your brows. He looks back to her, "Yes, congratulations. I'm Colby."

She squints, "Wait. Is your last name Brock?"

"Clara." You sigh, "Let's not make it-"

"No, babe. It's okay." Colby winks, "Yes, my last name is brock." Clara's mouth drops, "No frickin way, mom." She looks to Heather and points to Colby, "This is Colby, from Sam and Colby. The ones that Cash watch on YouTube."

"The ghost hunters?" Your mom raises her brows, "Oh he's going to have a cow."

You laugh, moving to Colby's side, "He just got back from two week trip over seas, can we please just treat him like a regular person please."

"Fine, for now. But I have a few questions." Your mom laughs as she points to Colby and you whisper, "Told ya."

He chuckles and nods, "Yes. Find me later. I'll be happy to talk to you." You smile, staring at Clara, "Come on, honey. Let's go find our seats."

Colby walks with you to the table, and holds your chair as you sit down. You look over at him as he sits down, giving him a smile, "So far so good."

He smiles and nods, "Agreed."

"Y/n."

You look up, "Hi dad." You smile, "This is Colby."

Colby stands up, reaching to shake his hand, "Hello, Mr. Y/l/n. How are you?" Your dad raises the glass in his hand, "Good now that I got one of these. Would you like one?"

Colby shakes his head, "No sir, I'm fine. Thank you."

Your dad nods, "So I hear your this Colby Brock? What's all the fuss about?"

Colby chuckles, "Oh. That." He nods, "I do a YouTube channel with my best friend from back home and we do paranormal investigations."

"Is that right?" Your dad tilts his head, "Do you make a living off of it?"

You stand up, "Dad."

"It's okay." Colby looks at you, "Um yeah. We're pretty successful with it. We have over eleven million followers on YouTube alone and we've won a teen choice award."

"Well I'll be damned." Your dad chuckles, "That's more than asshat McGee over there can say."

You laugh slightly, "Dad, be nice."

Your dad chuckles, "Sorry. I just.." he leans in to Colby, "I cannot stand Daniel. He's all looks, no brain. But you.." he lays a hand on Colby's shoulder, "I like you. You got your head on straight and you've amazed me in less than five minutes. I hope you stick around."

You can feel your cheeks warming up, "Okay dad. I think they're getting ready to start." Your dad smiles, "I'll be back don't you worry."

Colby nods, "I'll be here, sir." Your dad nods and turns to walk over to your mom before you and Colby sit back down, "Well." You lean in, "You got the approval from both of my parents in a matter of minutes, so that's a good thing."

"We got this in the bag, baby." Colby laughs and you smile, gaze still lurking on him after he looks away.

The clinking of forks on glass snap you out of your stare and you look away from Colby, picking up your slim Champagne glass.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"I can't believe how well that worked out." You say as you walk into the hotel room. Colby follows behind you, closing the door, "I told you everything would be okay."

"You know, my dad probably wasn't kidding when he said he liked you more than my sisters fiancé." You sit on the bed, slipping off your heels.

"Really? I guess he never really did elaborate on that." Colby chuckles as he loosens his tie, "Is he an asshole or something?"

You shrug, "I mean, yes and no. He is great to my sister, but at the same time, just the way he is and shit. He owns a company so his head swells, I guess."

"Mm. Yeah I've met people like that." Colby sits next to you, "Do you want the shower first?" You let out a sigh, "Yeah, I guess I can go first." You stand up, "Can you untie me."

Colby smirks as he reaches up, pulling the skinny string to loses your dress, "There ya be."

"Thank you." You smile at him before you walk towards the bathroom.

After your shower, you throw on one of the robes they have hanging on the wall and walk out, "All yours, Colbs."

He gets up. Unbuttoning his shirt as he walks towards the bathroom. You sit down on the bed, pulling your suitcase over. You rummage through, pulling out a pair of pajama shorts and a t-shirt.

Once you heard the water run, you stand up to shrugging off the top of your robe. You slip your shirt on before slipping on your shorts. You lay the robe down, sitting back down on the bed and switching the tv on.

A little while later, Colby walks out, "They really went all out with the hotel choice, didn't they?" He runs the towel over his hair and you look over at him, "Oh yeah. Everything has to be perfect for little Miss Priss."

Colby laughs, sitting down on the bed, "Why is she like that?"

"She's the baby of the family. Always got what she wanted growing up. She wasn't pushed to be perfect. She was born perfect." You laugh slightly, "I love her to death, but she is so annoying at times."

"I only have a brother, so I don't know what it's like to have sisters, so. I can't really offer any advice on that."

You scoff, "Lucky you."

"Alright. So enough yapping about that. Let's talk about tomorrow." Colby moves up next to you, laying on his side to face you, "I know we talked in the car a bit, but that was mainly for tonight."

"Tomorrow is going to be filled with a bunch of rich bitch snobs. So we have to be on our a game, they'll pick up apart if they get even the slightest whiff of us pretending to be together." You look at him, "It's going to be a lot, on us."

He shrugs, "I have no issue going all out."

You smile, shaking your head, "Neither do I."

"Well that was easy." He chuckles moving up to get under the covers, "I'm glad we're on that level to where nothing really can bother us."

You lay back, facing him, "I know. I honestly feel bad that I didn't think of you first."

"No one knew we'd be back a week early, so don't beat yourself up over that." He reaches over, brushing hair in your face.

You and Colby have had rumors started that you were dating, more than once, but you guys always shot them down because it's was just strictly platonic between the two or you.

Key word, was.

"Yeah, kinda wish you guys got arrested so I didn't have to go to this. I could be on a beach somewhere, but instead-"

"You're stuck here with me. I know. It's awful." Colby smirks and you roll your eyes, "Oh yeah. The worst." You laugh, "Alright. We better get some sleep because if I show up with bags under my eyes tomorrow, it won't be good."

He nods, "Alright." He pauses, looking down at the blanket for a few seconds before rolling over to switch off the light, "Goodnight."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You feel a hand gently shaking you and hear a quiet, "Y/n. Hey."

"Hmm." You go to roll over but Colby's hand stops you, "We never set an alarm." Your eyes go wide, "Fuck." You sit up, looking directly at him, "What time is it?"

"Almost nine thirty."

You kick the blankets off, "Shit. We have to be at the place by ten." You pull your dress from your suitcase, you forgot to get it out and hang it up so it's slightly wrinkled.

You start to laugh as you toss your dress on the bed, "I totally forgot to set an alarm." Colby laughs, "Yeah, that was the last thing on my mind."

You nod mumbles a quiet, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

"Alright, so if you want you can have the bathroom, I'll get dressed out here." Colby pulls his suit off the hanger and you grab your makeup bag, "Okay. We got this."

Colby can tell your frantic about this, he knew you didn't want to get yelled at. He walks over, placing his hands on your cheeks, "Breath, y/n. Don't rush. Just take your time, we'll figure something out."

You nod, "Okay." You take a deep breath, "I'm going to go do my makeup, my hair will just have to get brushed."

"You'll look beautiful either way." He smiles and turns you towards the bathroom, "Now go. Get ready."

About ten minutes later, you walk out, "Okay. Dress." You point to the spaghetti strap midi dress on the bed. Colby nods as you pick it up, "I'll just-"

"You don't have to leave the room, Colby. It's fine." You slip your shirt off over your head and Colby tilts his head slightly before his eyes meet yours, "Nice - I-i mean, yeah. Okay."

You laugh as you slip the dress over your head, pulling down your pajama shorts as the dress falls over your thighs.

You kick your shorts away from your feet and sigh as you smooth out the dress, "Do I look okay?"

"More than okay." He nods, "How do I look?" He poses and you laugh, "You look.." you swallow the words you really want to say, "Very handsome, Colbs."

He smiles, "Thanks." He checks his phone, "Alright, we have ten minutes to be there." He snaps his fingers, "Shoes."

"Fuck. Yes." You grab your heels, hopping towards the door as you slip them on, "Okay. Let's go."

You quickly make your way down the hall to the elevator, cursing it quietly as it feels like it's taking forever, "Oh my god."

Colby chuckles quietly, "I know."

The door dings and opens and you get on, pushing the lobby button repeatedly until the door closes. Colby wraps his arm around your waist, "Deep breathes, babe. You'll be fine."

You nod, what he called you not registering, "Well make it. It'll be fine."

As soon as the doors open, you're quickly making your way out to the car and getting in. Colby starts to drive as you bring up the address for the venue.

"Okay, next street you're going to turn right. Arrival time is nine fifty eight so we're just going to barely make it." You look over at him and back down at your phone.

Colby nods, "They can deal. It's not like we're showing up after the ceremony."

You laugh, "If she would have just made me a bridesmaid this wouldn't have happened."

"Yeah why aren't you?" Colby glances over at you and you sigh, "I'm not as rich as her friends so.”

"That's not a good reason." Colby shakes his head and you nod, "I know. But it's whatever, she just won't be one of mine, if I ever get married."

Colby smirks, "You will."

"How do you know?" You look over at him, wanting him to keep going. He shrugs, "I just know." He winks at you, smiling as he comes to a stop, "Do I turn here?"

You look down, "Um, no. Not this one but the next, turn left and it's straight ahead."

He nods, "Who ever you end up with will be one lucky son of a bitch."

You smile, your cheeks turning a darker pink, "I don't know about all that."

Colby sighs, "I know I'm one lucky son of a bitch, even if I'm just your fake date." He glances over at you and you smile, "Yeah, me too."

He smiles and lifts his finger off the wheel, "We made it."

"Oh good." You let out a sigh of relief, unbuckling as he comes to a stop. You pull out your lipstick from your purse, applying it to your lips as Colby walks around to open your door.

He waits until you're done, taking your hand as you climb out, "Let's go have some fun."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Throughout the ceremony, Colby's hand would be one of two places.

Holding your hand, or resting on your thigh.

You felt giddy and happy.

You haven't ever felt these kind of feelings for Colby before, so you were also really excited that you were this close to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder as you watched the ending of the ceremony. You caught yourself a few times, daydreaming about what your wedding would be like, and you always imagined it to be Colby.

"You may now kiss the bride."

Everyone starts to stand up and cheer, clapping for the newlyweds. You got up with Colby, clapping and wiping away your tears from your eyes as quick as you can before they strolled down your keys.

"Are you okay?" Colby asks quietly. You nod, "Just because I think my sister's a bitch doesn't mean I'm not happy for her." You laugh slightly and Colby wraps his arm around you, pulling you into him as you sniffle.

You wait to be dismissed before making your way up to the where they have all the tables.

"We are table number nine." You hold up the name card that has Colby's name above yours, "These are so cute."

Colby nods, "They really are."

"Y/n. Colby."

You turn around to see your mom and dad, "Hey, guys." You hug your mom, "Did you make it through without crying?"

She laughs, "Are you kidding me?"

You nod, "Yeah me either."

Your mom looks to Colby, "Don't you look handsome." She leans in, hugging him before your dad shakes his hand, "Good to see you again, son."

Colby smiles, "Great to see you guys. You both look great."

"He's so sweet. I like him a lot." Your mom nudges you and you nod, "Trust me. I do, too." You smile as you look over at Colby and he stares at you, nothing but love in his eyes.

"We're going to go find our seats before they do the entrances." Your mom smiles, "I'll find you later." You nod, "Yes. Please."

Your dad smiles at you and Colby before walking after your mom.

"So. You like me a lot, huh?" Colby teases as he nudges you with his elbow. You roll your eyes, smiling as you nod while looking at the floor, "Can we not talk about this now?"

He laughs, taking your hand in his, "Fine by me." He leads you to the table, sitting down with you. You guys make small talk, mainly about the venue and how the ceremony was beautiful.

"Y/n. Hey." Your older sister, Teresa, comes up. You look up at her, "Hey, T." You look at the boy next to her, "Hey Cash."

"Hi aunt y/n." He smiles and points to Colby, his voice going quiet, "Is that Colby?"

Colby smiles as he looks between you and him, "You must be Cash."

Cash's eyes go wide and he tugs on Teresa's hand, "Mom. He knows my name." She laughs, "Honey, he's saying your aunt, of course he knows your name."

Colby moves his chair out, pulling the other one out, "Do you want to sit down? I have a friend who would like to say hi to you."

He's going to call Sam.

Cash looks at Teresa and she nods. He runs around sitting down in the chair next to Colby, "I watch your show all the time."

Colby chuckles, "Isn't it scary for you?"

Cash shakes his head, "No, well. Sometimes I have to cover my eyes but you guys make me laugh, too."

You look at Teresa and smile as you look back at Colby. He pulls his phone out, "Let me see if I can get-" he pauses as the phone rings and Sam answers on the other end, "Ayo. Whats up, Colby?"

Colby smiles as he sees cash lean over, "I have someone here who would like to say hi." He turns the phone towards Cash and he has a huge smile on his face, "Hi Sam. I'm Cash. Y/n is my auntie."

You laugh slightly as you listen to Sam, "What's up, Cash? Is Colby being nice to you?"

"Dude." Colby says with a laugh, "Of course I am, right buddy?" Cash nods and laughs, "He's so cool."

"Cooler than me right?" Sam asks and Cash looks between everyone and hides his face. Sam laughs, "You can say yes. I definitely think he's cooler than me."

Cash unhides his face, giggling as he nods.

"Alright." Colby cheers, "Fist bump." He holds his fist out and Cash knocks his small fist against Colby's as he continues to giggle.

"Alright, honey. We can come back later. We have to go find our seats, aunt Clara is coming in soon." Teresa says and cash sighs, "Okay, mom."

"Good to meet you, Cash. Thanks for watching our videos." Sam says and Cash nods, waving as he climbs down from the chair.

"Thank you, Colby." Teresa smiles and Colby nods, "No problem at all. We can get some pictures together after everything settles again."

She nods and takes the boys hand, "Say thank you." Cash smiles and gives a small, "Thank you" before walking away with Teresa.

"Have fun you two." Sam laughs and you lean over, flicking him off. He does it back and Colby laughs, "Alright. I think they're coming in. I'll talk to you later."

"Later losers." Sam says with laugh before he hands up. You shake your head, "He so funny." Colby laughs, nodding as he sets his phone down, "He sure is."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk back from the open bar, two drinks in hand, "another one for you." You set a drink in front of Colby and he leans in, "Thank you, baby."

You smile, biting your lip as your eyes move from his lips to his eyes, "You're welcome, baby."

He smirks, pulling his lip between his teeth. He rests his arm on the back of your chair as he leans in closer, "You know.. I kinda don't want to be here anymore."

"Is it that bad?" You giggle slightly and Colby shrugs, "I mean, everything is fine. Prefect even." His hand brushes against your arm, "I don't want to be here anymore because I think we need to talk about what we put off earlier."

He tilts his head as he waits for what he's saying to click in your inebriated mind, "Oh." You raise your brows, "I see."

He drinks the last of the liquid in his glass and stands up, holding his hand out. You copy what he did and lay your hand in his, following him out of the venue.

"We can't drive." You giggle as you jog up to get close to him. You stop at his car and your back is pressed against it, "Who said anything about driving anywhere?"

You smirk, moving slightly so he can open the back door. You sit down, moving backwards as he climbs in after you. He closes the door behind him and you lay your hands on his cheeks, "You and me?"

He nods, "You and me."

His lips meet yours and it's like fireworks go off all around you.

You moan against his lips and he slides a hand up your leg, pushing your dress up. His fingers slip into the thin layer of your panties before dragging them up and down your slit.

"I thought.. we could just be friends.." Colby whispers against your lips before he leans back, "But we can't."

"You're right." You lean forward, kissing him as his fingers slip inside of you. You moan, working to undo his suit jacket before sliding your hands down to undo his belt.

His fingers curl inside of you, and he groans lowly as you palm him through his pants, "Fuck."

He slips his fingers out, moving to push his pants down and you try your best to get your panties off.

He lifts up, pulling them over your one foot before moving to hover his body over yours. He pins his arm under your knee before the tip of his cock rubs against your soaked cunt.

You let out a whimper, grabbing the collar of his shirt to pull him closer to you. You gasp, eyes rolling back as his cock slides into you.

Your leg tightens around his arm, "F-fuck."

"You feel so fucking good." Colby groans lowly before crashing his lips into yours. His hand slides up, sliding around to tangle his fingers into your hair, "So fucking good."

You moan as he tilts your head back, kissing down your neck. Your hand slides around, gently pulling his hair as his thrusts grow harder.

His hand loosens the grip on your hair, "Fuck, you're going to make me cum."

"O-okay." You nod and he kisses you, "with me, cum with me."

You slide your hand down, applying pressure to your clit as he focuses on his thrusts, "So fucking beautiful." His voice is low, "Can't believe you're mine for real."

You both laugh slightly, which turns to moans as you feel closer than you did a second ago. You add more pressure, whimpering as you throw your head back.

Colby’s hand slides to the back of your head, moving it forward to rest against his forehead, “I fucking love you.”

You whimper, “I love you. I love you.”

The knot in your stomach snaps and you let out a long and slightly loud moan, clenching around him as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Both of you take a second, getting your breaths back to normal.

“You think anyone saw?” You ask with a slight laugh.

Colby shakes his head, “I have tinted windows, not a sound proof car, so the real question is, did anyone hear?”

Your mouth drops slightly as he laughs and you roll your eyes, “Well, I mean. You’re not wrong.” He smirks, reaching down to grab something to clean up with.

You sit up after wiping off, fixing your panties before pulling down your dress, “So now what?” You look up at Colby and he smiles, “First, I get to do this.”

He grabs your chin, leaning in to kiss you. You smile within the kiss and nod, “I could keep doing that.”

“Second.” He leans back, “We go eat some more food so one of us is sober enough to drive back to the hotel because we definitely aren���t done yet.”

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Sorry I’ve been MIA, I hope this wasn’t too shitty.

Let me know how you liked it! Love you all 🖤 thanks for reading!

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated!

[nanamis-bigtie]

Round 7: Share Your Fantasies

about, rules & navigation | previous round | alcohol consumption implied in some of the routes

That's the first part of the last phase of your adventure, the last date before you decide whom you're taking to your bed. Choose wisely, even if it may seem impossible.

Remember you vote for a character you don't want to advance further! The character with the biggest number of votes will be eliminated.

Higuruma Hiromi

The cozy and intimate atmosphere under the deck was interrupted by the ship approaching its destination—and then the trip around the island strained the remains of the mood out of you both. It was way too hot for poor Hiromi, too hot even for you, so you focused on surviving instead of chasing the ideas provoked by the drinks in the blue-soaked lounge.

You still found a way to make out with him, even if just for a moment. You were curious how he would act when encouraged by a loose leash and he proved himself to be an attentive and curious kisser. Sloppy and out-of-practice one but catching up in no time and adjusting to you with an ease of a long-term partner, not a casual Tinder date. Impressive, given he was almost boiling alive.

He must have collapsed right after returning to his hotel, so you're not at all surprised that your next date proposal is answered around noon the next day. In a typical manner of his, he jokes around and begs for a more shaded destination with plenty of air conditioning. There's even a selfie, in theory just showing you the effect of merciless sun on him, in fact: a smart, casual way to show a bolder shot of him, in boxers only. He's all natural and it just...suits him so well, this contrast between body hair all on display and the elegance of outfits you've seen on him so far. Similar to the way he wears his fragrance, he knows how to mix all aspects of his physique to bring the best out of everything.

His body hair looks soft, too, and the fact that he's asked for a less exposed date has you a little disappointed. You would love to see more of it, at a pool or at a beach, maybe even sneak a little touch to confirm if your guess is true. But you're not cruel and the restaurant he proposes has all of your attention with the menu. If he has as good hand at choosing food as he has for alcohol and perfumes, you're about to experience a feast.

You arrive and find your booked table first; Hiromi appears shortly after and kisses your cheek for a greeting. It's quick and very soft but quite close to the corner of your lips. He's chosen a different cologne for today and the scent has your attention perked up immediately.

Small talk and appreciation for delicious food occupies the majority of your conversation for a good moment but he's been building the tension in different ways. Slightly rolled up sleeves, accidental touches here and there, his legs looking for contact with yours under the tables, longing stares and voice casually lowered... An attack is just a matter of time.

'It's...quite refreshing to be with a date who's not expecting a strong, dominating lead on my side." He muses, weighing words in his typical way. "You let me breathe and be myself, and I really appreciate it."

"You don't like to dominate?"

Corners of Hiromi's lips twitch but he doesn't smile, instead giving you the most intense of looks you've seen so far, "I don't like taking any role. It's restricting. I like to get the most out of life...and sex. There's so much from the other side of the spectrum I have yet to discover. I would rather focus on that."

Nanami Kento

The kiss was very short and left you craving for more. Much to your disappointment, he didn't kiss you again, not until you finally reached your place and said your goodbyes. Kento stood in place, clearly expecting something or trying to force something out of himself, but just getting stuck instead with a weirdly sad expression. He didn't want to let go of you, you realized after you parted, but couldn't find any excuse to keep you around for longer. Finally, he just dared to steal another kiss, this time giving you a little taste of his tongue, teasingly sliding between your welcoming lips, and retreating before you could pull him into something deeper and longer.

You lay awake through the majority of the night, obsessed with the trembling of his lips you felt before he ran away from you again. How much self-control this clearly starved man has in himself to not cave and press you against the hotel gate? Many in his place would just fuck you right there, taking the best of the hot night, but he remained his reserved, respectful self till the very end.

Oh, it's driving you crazy.

You send him a selfie straight from your bed, jokingly blaming him for the sleepless night. You expect a formal apology, instead he answers almost immediately with a selfie taken in almost the same position. There are tangled sheets, loose clothes, hair let down in disarray, sleepy expression...and undeniable morning wood visible in his shorts, "I couldn't get you out of my mind either. I'm hoping we can meet again soon."

If not for the post-insomnia, you would sprint out of the hotel to still catch him in bed. But you have to face up to the limits of your body, filling your head with fantasies and plans for the other date meanwhile.

This time, you decide to meet in the morning, in the local bakery & cafe place he claimed to be his favorite around here. A good start for the day, to gain energy and build your appetites up for the hours together to come.

You choose yourselves a little cozy table in the corner, away from the queue constantly forming for fresh bread. One bite of your sandwich later you understand why; you've never eaten such delicious bread before. Of course, a friend of a baker and a food lover would recommend only the best places.

Kento watches you with a smile, genuine, the most daring you've seen from him, even dares to brush a crumb out of the corner of your lips and steal it for himself. The repressed urge to kiss him almost whines aloud but you're busy eating to just follow it.

"I already forgot how pleasant a touch of the human body is." He muses as you fight your inner horny demons. "It's been eight— No, ten years since the last time."

You remember he's mentioned it before, "It's... impressive you lasted for so long."

"It's easier when you have something to occupy your life. Like work. And I've never been a very sexual person in the first place." You expect he'll avert his eyes but he looks straight at you now, unshakably. "But lately... It's nothing but a torture, this craving, this... fire. I can't turn my brain off anymore like I used to."

Ryomen Sukuna

He kissed you many more times that day, in his car, in a quaint cafe you stopped at on the way, before the dinner in a viral restaurant in the harbor, and right after, pressing you against the wall and for the first time daring to reach bolder, teaching you how delicious his huge hands feel against your ass. For the last time your lips meet in front of your hotel, even gentler than your first kiss, inviting foretaste of the meeting to come.

You're surprised the night hasn't ended in bed—maybe he was waiting for your proposal all along?—but you're more than sure you're going to see him again very soon.

Indeed, an invitation for another date appears in less than an hour. Followed by a photo that finally crosses out the unspoken rule. In a casual, relaxed and sitting, pose he presents you his cock, resting half-hard in his palm. The direct comparison to the well-known size of his hand leaves you a little breathless, especially with the message that comes right after, "Your little prey play left a great impression on me."

You're tempted to share an equally revealing selfie, but you know him already enough to know that leaving him a little hanging will have a better effect.

You meet the very next day in the late afternoon, in a classy bar in town's center. This time, Sukuna is dressed all black, both his shirt and pants fitting tight, underlining his assets and aggressive aura. It's hard to not stare while knowing what kind of monster hides behind the prominent bulge, even harder to casually sneak a peek when he's observing every twitch of your face, well aware of the effect he has on you. Heat creeps all over your face when he smirks down at you, huge hand tapping the small of your back, inviting you to pass the door he's holding for you, then leading you to one of conveniently isolated tables, providing a crumb of intimacy to customers who wish to not be bothered by the masses. Even the music is duller here, letting you lead a conversation without raising your voices.

He brings you your favorite drink and a generous platter of tapas to snack on, and you're gracious for having something to busy your lips and hands with because Sukuna doesn't make it easy for your self-control. Voice low and raspy, gaze heavy and skimming your assets without a shadow of shame, he talks as casually as if the topic wasn't at all related to your sex lives and his experience with BDSM.

"There aren't many things I haven't tried." He spears an olive with a cocktail stick without taking his eyes off you even for a second. "I had a taste of...the whole spectrum of pleasure, let's phrase it this way, but in the end, following someone's guidance is not a field where I can bloom."

"So, what would you call your field?" He already gave you a good guess but you're curious what kind of games he's going to name when confronted outright. "Let's assume for a moment that I have no limits, what would you like to do with me, then?"

"I would teach you what your real limits are." There's no hesitation on Sukuna's side, the answer comes immediately. "I would make you rediscover what your body is capable of. I would teach you that pain can bring pleasure undreamt of when approached in a traditional way."

Geto Suguru

You just knew the topic of bondage wouldn't die so easily. You didn't head to your hotel immediately, instead choosing to spend the evening in one of the juice parlors on the beach, to wash the taste of coffee down and collect your thoughts after the date. You didn't think twice when opening a text from him—and it was a mistake, you learned as soon as the photo loaded, revealing him in a very suggestive pose. He was wearing nothing but tight leather pants and red rope enveloping his torso with decorative knots, his toned muscles flexed and stressed by the perfect light, and his long hair casually let loose. Before you closed the photo, quickly, worrying someone might have been looking over your shoulder, you noticed his nipples and navel were pierced.

"It was done by a friend and student of mine." Suguru texted you again shortly after. "A perfect example of kinbaku for the beginners. Do you like it?"

You typed a very irritated—and horny—yes and decided to ignore him for the rest of the night. Drastic measures had to be taken, if you wanted to clear your mind. But even without his teasing, the images kept crawling to you, urging you to set up another date, the sooner, the better.

Suguru keeps you waiting, maybe as a little payback for your silence, but eventually reaches out first and proposes meeting at a club, quite a change of vibes in comparison to a very calm and somewhat sophisticated coffee shop, and absolutely not what you've expected from him. You're still eager to go, a night spent on dancing and drinking with a man like him? It could only have a very happy ending, of course you're going.

It's one of those rather fancy ones, you realize once inside, not exclusive but classy enough to have you wondering if you hadn't come a little underdressed. But you're let in without a problem—and so is Suguru, despite wearing a semi-transparent top under his jacket. You can see the outline of his piercings and a shadow of his happy trail, a sight that immediately brings the indecent thoughts back close to the surface. At least there are no ropes in sight—not physically at least because the same can't be said about your racing thoughts.

The way your bodies grind against each other as you dance is only making it more difficult for you. His gentle but commanding hands resting boldly against your middle, hips, once even brushing against your ass, his warm and moist breath at the shell of your ear, his soft and beautiful laughter, his sweet yet very masculine cologne... Suguru doesn't cross the line even once, balancing right on it instead and building the tension within you up so much you feel like exploding any moment now.

You almost mewl when he pulls you close to himself, back against his torso, having you feel his muscles and warmth of his body.

"The way you move... I would love to immortalize every frame of it." He rasps into your ear, a shadow of smirk to it. "You're a masterpiece and the things you do to me and my imagination... Oh, how I would love to do the unspeakable to you..."

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 2 - Nothing to Lose (Taking Chances)

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: None

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Read Chapter 1 - Rules Were Meant for Breaking here!

The wind whipped at the shutters on your two-bedroom home tucked in the suburbs of Richmond, Virginia. It was another quiet night for you. Quiet had become your norm, and you were perfectly content with that. One hand held your cell phone to your ear while the other poured yourself a glass of Merlot. 

“I’m heading to Kansas next week,” you said somewhat nonchalantly into the receiver, but your best friend knew better than that. 

“Oooh,” she cooed. “Are you seeing your flying buddy?” You rolled your eyes. After you had mentioned your encounter that had happened almost a month ago now, she had been relentless. 

“No…I don’t know,” you grumbled. “He has a name, you know.” 

“Oh, I know. The mysterious Dean. I still wish you had gotten a last name. You gotta Google guys nowadays. You tend to find some creepy ass people,” she muttered back. You slipped the cork back into the bottle and carried your glass to the living room. 

“Says the girl who dated a guy with an attempted battery charge,” you scoffed as you plopped down on your couch and pulled your legs up to the side. 

“Listen, Tinder is wild. It’s not my fault he used a fake name,” she tossed back. “And let’s just remember it was a charge and he was never actually convicted.”

“Yeah, let’s not try to justify that one, ‘kay?” You laughed. “I don’t know, I don’t think I’m going to call him. I don’t even know if he wants to hear from me.” You swirled the burgundy liquid around in your wine glass as your mind replayed the night you and Dean spent together. 

“You were pretty clear about what you wanted���or didn’t want, for that matter. At least, from what you told me.” 

Once you and Dean had gotten your room assignments, you agreed to meet in his room after you got settled. A quick glance in the mirror made you grimace—traveling for fifteen hours hadn’t done you any favors. You swiped your index finger under each eye to clean up the smudged mascara before you pulled at the fallen strands of hair to fix your bun. The idea of getting dressed up at this point seemed futile, so you settled on a long sleeve shirt and leggings with sneakers. 

After a quick breath, you grabbed your room key and cell phone and headed down the hall to Dean’s room. Your knuckles tapped against the wood. 

Within a moment, the door swung open revealing your new friend. He had changed into a gray undershirt and sweatpants. 

“Hey,” you breathed with a smile. 

“Hi,” he smiled back. He stepped back and held the door open for you. “Come on in.” 

“Are we passing on the bar adventure?” You raised your eyebrows as you eyed his choice of sweatpants. 

“Oh, you mean you don’t want to be seen with me wearing sweatpants in the bar?” He feigned offense. “And see, I didn’t think you cared about that kinda thing…” before you could say anything, he continued. “Nah, I’ll be honest. I’m pretty exhausted and thought we could just hang out and watch a movie or something.”

“That works, but seriously, if you’re tired I can absolutely entertain myself and get some sleep. We don’t have to hang out,” you were second-guessing everything, and that wasn’t like you. The confidence and self-assurance you had when it came to your work seemed to go out the window when it came to Dean. 

“No way,” he plopped down on the bed and put his feet up as he sat against the headboard. “It’s almost Halloween, how do you feel about some scary classics?” He wiggled his eyebrows, which made you laugh. 

“Sounds good to me,” you walked to the other side of the bed and sat down so you were against the headboard with your legs folded like a pretzel. 

The movie was fun, but you and Dean ended up talking throughout most of it. 

“Okay, so you don’t like planes…anything else you’re afraid of?” You popped a pretzel from the trail mix bag Southwest had provided on your earlier flight into your mouth and handed the bag to Dean. 

“Hm,” he hummed as he rummaged through for a Cheez-It. “Not really. My brother’s afraid of clowns.” 

“Clowns are pretty creepy,” you agreed. Dean rolled his eyes. 

“What about you? What are you afraid of?” The question was harmless, but the answer felt loaded to you. As you processed your thoughts, you hesitated but decided to just go for it. 

“Being alone,” your eyes fell to your lap where you played with a loose string on the comforter. “Sorry, that was deep.” You laughed lightly as you avoided eye contact and wondered if you had gone with something easier; something like snakes or needles. 

“Hey,” Dean’s voice caught your attention. “Don’t be sorry. That’s a valid fear.” You noticed his voice was lower than before. His words were kind, but you still felt like you had made a mistake by opening up that much to him. 

“I appreciate it,” you managed a small smile. 

There was a pause, but you were surprised it wasn’t uncomfortable. Then Dean spoke once more. “In, uh, in the spirit of ‘if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine’,” he cleared his throat. “I’m batshit terrified of being afraid…”

You blinked as you contemplated his words. “You’re…afraid of being afraid?” 

He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck as he dropped his gaze to his lap. “Yeah, I know it sounds weird. I guess for me, I always have to be strong and just have my shit together. Which I don’t, by the way.” You watched the side of his face as he spoke, illuminated by the movie playing on the TV on the dresser across from you. “It’s pretty much always been me and Sammy—my brother,” he reminded you. “I don’t really ever show anyone if I’m afraid of something.”

“Everybody gets scared, Dean,” you coaxed as he paused. “Your brother would understand that.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he pondered, his eyebrows knitted together. “I guess so, I just don’t show it.”

Even though it was a simple confession, you felt like you learned a lot about Dean in that moment. 

“You were afraid on the plane, I could tell,” you smirked and pushed your elbow gently into his ribs playfully. 

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and for the first time since he started speaking, his head turned to look at you. His eyes practically studied you but all you felt was his vulnerability. “I know,” he said softly. “That’s the thing, I was able to drop the act in front of you. I just can’t figure out why…”

“Ah,” you smiled. “You broke your own rule. You took your mask off.”

He chuckled again. “I guess I did.” 

You turned back after a moment to look at whatever was happening on the TV in front of you, and that’s when you felt Dean’s palm graze the top of your hand at your side. It wasn’t forceful or pushy, it just felt comforting. You glanced down at your hands and took a breath. 

“Dean, I need to be honest with you,” your words were so soft, you weren’t sure if he heard you. His eyes watched you and he nodded for you to continue. “I’m really, really bad at…this whole thing.” You mumbled. 

“At what, exactly?” He asked for clarification. 

“Men? Affection? I’ve been so focused on my career for so long, I kinda just settled on the fact I’d be alone for the rest of my life. And even though it terrifies me, I’m also kind of content with that? Let’s be honest, you live in Kansas and I live in Virginia. We don’t even know each other, we’re strangers,” you were rambling at this point. 

“I’m not askin’ you to marry me, sweetheart,'' he laughed gently, but also removed his hand from yours.

“No, I know,” you breathed. “I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you, seriously. I just don’t see how…” you trailed off as you tried to find your words. 

“I get it, wrong place, wrong time,” he repeated the words from earlier. 

“Something like that,” you sighed. You stared into his green gaze for another moment before you found your voice again. “I should go.” 

Dean nodded once, but you saw the disappointment flash across his features. “I understand.” He swung his legs off of the bed and waited for you to walk you to the door. “Just so you know, I really liked talking with you tonight.” 

“Me too, Dean,” you managed a smile and wondered why you felt sad. You wouldn’t let your feelings deter you. 

“And hey, if you’re ever in Kansas and wanna break any more of those rules…” he reached for a notepad on the table by the door. He scribbled out a number. “Gimme a call.” 

You took the paper willingly and gave him one more gentle smile. “Thanks, Dean.” And against your better judgment, you leaned forward on your tip toes and kissed his stubble covered cheek. “Goodnight.”

You saw Dean on the plane the next morning, but couldn’t be sure if he had seen you. He picked a seat rows ahead of you, and by the time you had gotten off of the plane—he was gone. 

“Can you blame the guy?” Your best friend’s voice interrupted your thoughts. “He bared his soul to you and you bolted.”

“I didn’t bolt because of the conversation! I got scared,” you mumbled. 

“I know, but I also know it’s been a month and you haven’t shut up about him,” she reminded you. “Call. The. Man. Please, if for nothing else, for my sake. I’m sick of hearing you whine.” 

“Ugh, fine,” you grumbled. “I’ll call him.” 

“You better,” she bit back. “If you don’t call him, you’re not allowed to talk about him anymore. Got it?”

A sigh fell from your lips, but you knew she was right. “Deal.” 

“Good, I gotta run. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” and with that, you both hung up. You stared at your phone for a minute. With a quick scroll in your contacts, you found the number you had added after Dean wrote it down on the notepad. Your finger hovered for a moment before you took a leap of faith and pressed his name. 

You pushed the phone to your ear and took a very large sip of your wine with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. Your breath got caught in your throat when you thought he had answered, only to realize it was his voicemail. 

“This is Dean’s other, other cell…so you must know what to do.” And then there was a beep. You quickly hung up the phone. How many cell phones does this guy have? And why…? Maybe your best friend was right—maybe you needed to fully vet this dude before you considered coordinating a meet-up. But before you could think on it any longer, your phone started vibrating against the couch cushion. 

“Hi,” you sighed into the phone as you pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“Uh, hi. Who is this?” His voice sounded gruffer than you remembered. 

“Dean, sorry, I uh, I—this is—” he cut you off before you could say anything else. 

“Oh…uh, everything okay?” He sounded…worried, or concerned, maybe? But you weren’t sure why. And he recognized your voice? There was so much you were confused about but it was overshadowed by the giddiness you felt that he recognized your voice from just a few words. 

“Oh, everything’s fine,” you quickly answered. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just wanted to call to let you know I’m going to be in Kansas next week…” you second-guessed, again, why you had called to begin with. You knew you were sending the man mixed signals, and you didn’t mean to. It was a battle from within that you couldn’t tell if you were losing or winning, at this point. He didn’t speak during your pause, so you continued. “I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have called.”

“No, it’s alright,” he spoke softly. “I just didn’t think I’d hear from you again.” You wanted to kick yourself, but instead you stood to your feet and paced a bit in front of your couch as you gripped the phone to your ear.

“I know,” you sighed. “Moment of honesty without any judgment?” You asked hesitantly.

“Shoot,” by the sound of his voice, you could tell he still wasn’t sure what you wanted or why you had dialed his number. To be fair, you still weren’t sure, either. There was this strange sense of connection you felt with him after only spending a few hours with him. It was something you couldn't shake.

“When I left your hotel room that night,” your feet slowed and you brought your fingers up to fidget with the charm on your necklace. “I kind of panicked. But…” But I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, is what you wanted to say. However, you weren’t feeling very brave, so you swerved. “…I just knew you had said if I were ever in Kansas again, to give you a call.” Per usual when the nerves crept up and made you feel like you had made a mistake, your teeth found the inside of your bottom lip and nibbled there self consciously. 

There was a pause that made you question yourself even more than before, if that were possible. “No, I’m glad you called. When are you planning to be in town?” 

Your heart fluttered. Maybe he did want to see you, after all. “Next week, actually. I fly in on Monday afternoon but I don’t have any meetings until Tuesday.” 

“Alright,” there was something to his voice that sounded different than before—there was a hardness there you hadn’t noticed on the plane, or when you spent the evening talking about what you were afraid of and watching classic horror flicks. This Dean felt guarded. “Well, how ‘bout drinks? There’s not much out here, but there’s a dive bar. The Blind Pig, it’s in Salina near the airport.”

“Is that too far for you? Aren’t you in Lebanon?” This version of Dean made you realize you really didn’t know him at all—this was just a man you had met by pure happenstance. You wondered if you should Google him, after all. 

“Ah, it’s alright. I spend ninety percent of my time in my car and I love it,” he answered truthfully. 

Even though your brain was telling you to think twice, something within you urged your mouth to speak anyway. “Alright, then. Is 7 o’clock okay?”

“Seven it is,” he answered, and this time you could tell he had a smile on his face. 

“Okay, great,” you gnawed at your bottom lip as you processed. “I’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” he repeated back. Simple ‘byes’ ended your conversation and you couldn’t help but cringe from the awkwardness as you pulled the phone from your ear. All you could think about was that you hoped you hadn’t made a mistake. 

A/N: I'm so excited to be back! I've spent a lot of time planning this series out, so I hope you enjoy! Thanks so much for reading, please feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it ♥️

Chapters will be posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays!

Preview of the next chapter:

The Blind Pig was a small hole-in-the-wall sports bar, but it sure did have a lot of patrons. Thankfully, your flight had gotten in when it was supposed to without any delays, but that had gotten you settled in your hotel by five o’clock and ready to meet Dean by six. You had pulled out your laptop to try and get some work done, but your eyes kept pulling to the numbers on the nightstand. 

6:02. And then again at 6:04. By 6:07, you couldn’t take it anymore. So you headed the short distance from your hotel to The Blind Pig and settled on a barstool at the bar. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender interrupted your thoughts as he dried his hands on a small dish rag. 

“A Jack and Coke, please,” you answered in an effort to calm your nerves. “And a glass of water,” so hopefully you wouldn’t get too ahead of yourself. 

The bartender nodded and grabbed a glass. Every time the front door opened, you couldn’t help but turn to see if it was Dean walking through the door. But it was still only 6:45, and you knew he had a long drive. 

Just as your drink was set in front of you, you heard him clear his throat behind you. “Hey, Atlanta,” the nickname brought a smile to your lips and a shiver down your spine as you turned towards him.

Read Chapter 3 here!

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[sciderman]

I'm not caught up on Shiklah, how exactly did she and Wade meet? How did they fall in love? Why did she cheat? Ever since we saw that panel about Wade being overflowing I've always thought about the fact that she probably didn't cheat because she was a succubus right? Because if Wade was overflowing Shiklah wouldn't have needed to chest and find some other source of (nourishment?). So did she just did it because she didn't love him? Well it seems like she did because of those honeymoon photos. Why Shiklah why?! Explain yourself you cruel succubus!?!

in the comics it's a marriage of convenience - but they also liked each other a lot. they married to thwart dracula, sure, but they did also have the hots for each other. in 9319 i imagine it happens in a largely similar way - though, it doesn't really matter - heck, they could've met on tinder. that would be hilarious. after carm, wade's super lonely. he's on a dating app. finds a succubus looking for a feast. slides into her DMs, "i'm an all-you-can-eat-buffet, babey...." they meet. he thought she was just a weird cosplayer with like, a VERY elaborate scaly suit. turns out it's she's a real actual succubus.

score, wade says, pumping his fist.

they go on a lot of dates. like a lot. it's really cute. they don't have sex. wade insists on all the romantic tropey dates. ice skating. the opera. they cause disaster everywhere they go, but they don't care.

wade insists on saving himself until marriage. (he doesn't want another relationship where he feels like a slab of meat, and he's a little scared of that kind of vulnerability after nate and carm)

friendly reminder:

shiklah's not a patient woman. she's done playing with her food. she proposes. wade is giddy.

i think shiklah genuinely loved wade, but i mean, in her nature, wade is prey. i think she genuinely loves everyone she feasts on. but wade - wade was exceptionally ripe. wade's like the juiciest feast ever, but he's hard work. he's not easy. shiklah can have so many easier meals. but wade is demanding, and has so many conditions, and not only that, but he suppresses so much.

wade's still in love with nate, and vanessa, and shiklah can feast on that love (she's not picky - in fact, that's the juicy stuff that she's after) - but wade leaps through hoops to deny it and suppress it.

[x]

i think at some point it gets frustrating for shiklah. her trying to tap into wade's untapped reservoir of love and wade constantly trying to keep a lid on it. like, she's trying to break his dam and wade is constantly trying to build it back up again because he has a preconceived notion of what love should look like and NO. he's monogamous. he can only love one person. this is what the fairytale looks like and i am NOT going to fuck this up. play by the rules.

wade doesn't take his mask off with shiklah. he's so committed to putting on the show. and eventually, i guess, shiklah becomes exhausted enough of it to seek out an easier meal.

i think she wishes she could've held onto wade. he was such a good feast.

of course, there's someone else who's just as ripe.

[wordstro]

[11:50 PM] + natural disaster apocalypse au + road trip au + "what are we supposed to do now?"

a/n: 3.2k words, gender neutral reader as always, san x wooyoung x y/n :), lots of implied hooking up and sexual relationships but no descriptions of it, fwb san, red flags galore, miscommunication, insecurities & anxiety, drinking, mention of the dating app tinder (derogatory) and the terrible nicknames that come out of that lmao, environmental disasters and existential crises go hand in hand lol, i have wips to finish but i wanted to write this rippp please lmk if anyone wants more though

taglist: @leeknowsalot, @hither-to-undreamt-of, @not-everything-is-so-primitive

-

you’d made it a point to never stay the night. san and your arrangement was almost clinical in it’s execution. if one of you wanted to blow off steam, you’d text - never call - and the other would show up at the asker’s doorstep if they were up to it. no kissing on the mouth. no excessive cuddling. nothing too intimate. outside of that arrangement, you both remained friendly - you had to when you both shared so many mutual friends.

still, despite the rules, san was polite, and he treated you with a kindness you did not expect.

“why are you being so nice?” you’d asked once, after that first time, when you’d both danced at hongjoong’s birthday party and ended the night in san’s bedroom. you were sprawled out on top the towel he'd laid out over his sheets, sweaty and trying to return to your senses.

san paused in the act of opening the water bottle he’d plucked from his mini fridge, his brows knitting together. he’d already handed you a washcloth and your clothes, and now he sat at the edge of the bed frowning at you. he said, “aftercare isn’t optional, y/n. “

you’d blinked, and his frown deepened when you said, “i guess not.”

it had been, for your previous partners, but you did not want to elaborate on it so you’d only sat up and taken the water bottle. san did not ask, but his brows remained furrowed. after that, you never asked. neither of you asked each other much about your personal lives. it was as if it was an unspoken rule, to remain as uninvolved as possible. friends with benefits, with as little possibility of attachment as possible. frankly, the two of you were barely friends, only ever spending time together outside of your arrangement in group settings.

they say, however, you learn a lot about someone just from sleeping with them.

you’d never touched on personal matters too much, but sometimes he texted you and his touch was angrier and rougher than usual.

sometimes, you had eyes. you saw the way his eyes followed mingi during seonghwa’s monthly bowling tournaments for months. the way his jaw clenched, and the way mingi avoided the group for a while, until one day mingi showed up to a board game night with a six pack of beer and san and mingi bumped fists, and everything was back to normal.

you saw the extra toothbrush he’d left in the bathroom - used and obviously not meant for you - and the familiar hoodie hanging from the drying rack while you tugged your jeans back on - “i don’t think you’ve met wooyoung yet, have you y/n?” hongjoong said once at a random thursday night happy hour, dark eyes fixed on you as he threw an arm over your shoulders, dragging you close. wooyoung wore a black hoodie that he fiddled with the strings of, rolling his eyes as hongjoong whispered in a conspiring tone, wooyoung's warm brown eyes lingering on your face, your stomach flipping at his lopsided grin and twinkling eyes, “woo is san’s college sweetheart.” - and the wrapped christmas presents sitting on the counter that you were never a recipient of - “can i grab a croissant on the way out?” you'd asked san, pausing at the door, and san only waved at you over his shoulder as he flipped open his laptop.

despite learning too much about him, despite wondering if some of the flags you'd noticed and blatantly ignored made you the bad person, for months and months and months, you never stayed the night.

one summer night, you’d sat with your knees tucked to your chest, squished between hongjoong and wooyoung, an empty soju bottle in front of you and a slice of pizza halfway to your mouth. your face was hot from the alcohol you hadn’t meant to down so much of.

summer nights were usually not so hot, but lately the weather had been absolutely dreadful. hongjoong blasted the a/c and seonghwa dragged a fan into the little living room and the blankets you’d usually use were tossed aside. the sweaty skin of your knee stuck to wooyoung’s but when you looked over at him to elbow him so he'd give you some space, you caught a glimpse of san’s hand resting on wooyoung’s bare thigh, above his tattoo. san's thumb circled over the skin there. your stomach flipped at the sight. you’d looked up then, and san's attention was fixed on the drama hongjoong put on. you tore your gaze from san's profile, glancing sideways, only to -

wooyoung smiled at you. it was a wide grin, all teeth and twinkling eyes and a knowingness that had your stomach churning. the churning in your stomach was not new. you'd always felt that way about him, since the day hongjoong introduced you two, but this time, you felt...caught.

you blinked at him. wooyoung dropped a hand to the curve of your knee, and pat it with the lightest of touches. your breath hitched.

you did not know the details of san and wooyoung's relationship. the rest of your friends did - a side effect of joining a friend group formed entirely during their college years, long before you ever met any of them - and hongjoong seemed to have taken a liking to eyeing you strangely whenever you interacted with san in a public setting.

hongjoong was always the nosy type. it was why you'd ended up a part of his friend group the way you had. you met hongjoong while the two of you were working at a coffee shop after graduating from university, bonding over the struggle of finding a real job (as your parents loved to put it). hongjoong was focused on producing music during his free time, while you applied to every entry level corporate job you could find. the two of you spent a lot of time going to bars to unwind or trying new food places, until hongjoong introduced you to his friends.

there was seonghwa and siyeon. the twins and the bane of hongjoong's existence, according to hongjoong's grumbling every morning over the espresso machine. you'd taken it seriously the first few times he said it, until siyeon and seonghwa showed up to the coffee shop with lunch for hongjoong and hongjoong's entire expression lit up before he even saw the food in siyeon's hands. later, you learned they were all roommates. then there was seulgi, siyeon's girlfriend, who had a penchant for ordering too many rounds of tequila shots and staying over at seonghwa, siyeon, and hongjoong's apartment more than she stayed at her own place - another complaint hongjoong liked to grumble about even though he tended to complain more if seulgi wasn't staying at the apartment. it was ironic, really, but you'd learned long ago not to question it. then there was mingi and san. they were roommates first year of university and refused to live with anyone else since then. mingi liked to study in the coffee shop you and hongjoong worked at, and you'd taken to having his regular order ready for him before he even walked in the door. a year later, wooyoung moved to the city and you liked the way he smiled, the way he got on with everyone as if no time had passed at all, and most of all there was an unexplainable ache in your chest whenever you saw wooyoung cuddled up with san. when you saw the tattoo on wooyoung's thigh one summer at the beach - nearly identical to san's - you'd felt that ache again, joining the butterflies in your stomach whenever wooyoung smiled at you, or san did something as simple as holding the door open for you in public.

you refused to unpack that ache, any of it really, but hongjoong was nosy and perceptive, and one night hongjoong pulled you into his kitchen, the sounds of siyeon and seonghwa bickering in the living room loud, grating almost, and hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest as his gaze bore into your skull. he asked, "are you fucking san?”

you’d sputtered, stepping away from hongjoong as if he'd smacked you. he might as well have, because you thought you and san had done an incredible job of hiding your arrangement. but hongjoong was nosy and perceptive, and you should have known he'd catch on. you should have known the moment he threw his arm over your shoulders and introduced you to wooyoung the way he did.

hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest and sighed at whatever he saw in your expression. he hadn’t given you the chance to answer, only dragged a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the kitchen counter and said, “i had a feeling you were, but...i thought you knew better. woo and san have been a thing for ages. they're...complicated, but they're them.”

you'd wondered, sometimes, when you saw wooyoung's clothes on the drying rack, or his christmas presents on the counter, or even when san handed you a shirt to wear if he'd ruined yours and you'd recognized it clearly as wooyoung's if you were blatantly in the middle of something. you'd wondered if wooyoung knew about you. that thought often kept you up at night, for more reasons then you'd like to admit.

you frowned, “why would i get hurt? we're not serious.”

hongjoong raised a brow in disbelief.

"we're not," your voice raised, echoing through the kitchen. siyeon and seonghwa were no longer bickering. you worked to lower your voice, "why do you care anyway?"

hongjoong blinked. once, twice. he dropped his arms to the side, and he frowned at you as if you were an idiot. maybe you were, for asking such a question. you'd only known hongjoong for a couple years, while hongjoong knew san and seonghwa and siyeon and mingi and seulgi and wooyoung for so much longer. you were always the new one. the one left out. the one listening as they recounted old college stories. the one on birthdays feeling as if your gift was too surface level. it was a stupid thing to feel bad about - the history - but sometimes, you felt so far behind and so far removed. it always felt like you versus them, and the way hongjoong said them about wooyoung and san - it made your chest ache something awful.

"because i care about you."

hongjoong said it kindly, softly, and it reminded you of how nice san was to you. it made your chest tight.

you said, "i know what i'm doing. it's...it's not serious. i'm fine."

hongjoong opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes swept over your face and he clamped his mouth shut. he only nodded, said, "okay."

then he turned and grabbed wine glasses from the cabinets.

hongjoong proceeded to shove the empty wine glasses into your limp hands and wave you back to the living room. siyeon pat the spot next to he on the couch, and seonghwa only smiled, and hongjoong never brought up san again.

that was nearly a year ago.

now here you are, one of too many sweltering summer nights, with wooyoung's warm hand resting on the curve of your bare knee, and his eyes twinkling, and you refusing to acknowledge the butterflies churning at the pit of your stomach, or the way you glanced slightly to san, his jaw and the curve of his nose and the way his gaze remained fixed on the television screen and his hand on wooyoung's upper thigh and the slight disappointment that joined the butterflies at the fact that he did not even care to glance your way.

you did not know how to react - that was a constant with you really - so you put down your half-eaten pizza and poured yourself a shot of soju.

wooyoung nudged your shoulder. you could not ignore that.

you nudged him back, raising a brow as you downed the shot.

wooyoung's eyes flickered over your face, watching as you swallowed the shot before he said, "not going to offer me any?"

your eyes flit to his thigh. san stopped drawing circles there, his grip tightening slightly. you made a face, "you seem preoccupied."

wooyoung laughed, and the sound was a loud boisterous thing. san looked over. he smiled politely at you - it was always so polite in public, so clinical - before his eyes landed on wooyoung. wooyoung tossed his head back on the couch behind him.

hongjoong shushed him, "shut up. it's getting good."

you giggled. san's gaze flickered to you then, before it returned to the television.

wooyoung's hand remains on your knee. it's distracting. you take another shot, returning to the television.

in that moment, your heart is a wild thing in your chest. you'd stayed awake one too many nights wondering why your heart raced the way it did whenever you were around wooyoung. he'd do something as simple as smile, and you'd find yourself thinking of it over and over.

wooyoung simply reached over, picked up your half-eaten pizza and took a bite. without asking.

before you could turn on him, the television blared. the siren was a terrifying thing, loud and grating and too loud, too loud, too loud.

you yelped. wooyoung dropped the pizza on his lap. san's hand dropped from wooyoung's upper thigh. hongjoong shouted, "what the fuck."

seonghwa dropped the pizza box in his hands. the pizza went everywhere.

~.~.~.~.~

six weeks.

forty two days.

the television flickered through the quiet apartment. it was muted, the news anchor's expression solemn as she spoke, as clips of floods and the sun and long lines outside grocery stores - all things you'd seen on social media from around the world for last few months - blared behind her. sweat stuck to the back of your shirt.

you stared at the empty soju bottles in front of you. seonghwa and hongjoong had left long ago, to the convenience store, after the announcement. they hadn't asked. seonghwa merely said, "i think we need more soju" into the impending silence.

hongjoong shot to his feet, his keys jiggling. seonghwa took the pizza box with him, and you watched his hands tremble.

you don't know how much time passed. your ears were ringing. wooyoung's thigh was no longer pressed to yours. he sat across from you.

san was pacing. back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

you met wooyoung's gaze over the green soju bottle, and he held you there in his gaze.

forty two days.

six weeks.

"maybe they're wrong," san murmured, and you thought he'd pace a hole into the carpet at the rate he was going. "the sun can't just explode. we can't just...there has to be some way to stop it. they have to be wrong."

"they wouldn't announce it like that if they weren't sure," wooyoung said.

a car alarm blared in the distance. screaming. shouting.

you closed your eyes.

a beat of silence, before you felt a hand on your shoulder. you opened your eyes, looked up, and san peered down at you. he smiled politely once more. even with the world ending, he was always so polite. so kind.

you tore your eyes from his, to wooyoung across from you. there was a look in his eyes you couldn't quite place. it was a mix between softness and an edge, that was only intensified by that perpetual twinkle in his eyes.

you said, "what are we supposed to do now?"

wooyoung shrugged, "anything we want?"

but the way he looked at you then, the way his gaze flickered up to san, before returning to you, it made the butterflies at the pit of your stomach morph into a flock of birds, into a problem. the tension grew so thick, you were afraid to even move. san's hand remained warm on your shoulder, grounding, while wooyoung's gaze made you float.

before you could formulate a response, though, a series of beeps echoed through the apartment, and the door swung open. mingi stumbled in, still in his work uniform, hair a mess, and his smile was a solemn thing as he spoke into the silence, "we're going to die."

san sighed, scowling at mingi. the tension disappeared so quickly, you wondered if you imagined it. "do you have to say it like that?"

"is there any other way to say it?" mingi asked, kicking the front door shut behind him.

"you're lucky siyeon isn't here right now. she'd kill you for kicking her door."

mingi turned to inspect the door, wiping at where he kicked, before he spun on his heels and gestured all around you both. "look, you don't understand. this is an opportunity you guys."

"to do what exactly?" wooyoung crossed his arms over his chest.

"quit work, take a road trip, go the fucking beach, anything." mingi gestured all around them, his eyes wide and his smile wider, and he said, "it's the end of the fucking world, and we can do whatever we want."

"aren't we supposed to, like, reflect on our decisions and shit? see our parents maybe?"

mingi pointed at you, grin widening, "technically yes, but doesn't a road trip sound more fun."

you raised a brow at mingi, suspicious, "where do you want to road trip to?"

mingi grinned, all teeth and charm, "well i was thinking busan."

wooyoung laughed, said, "does this, by chance, have anything to do with the guy you matched with on tinder? what did you save him as? busan babe?"

the door to the apartment opened once more, hongjoong and seonghwa stumbling in with clinking plastic bags.

"okay," mingi drew out the word, still grinning, "maybe busan babe invited me to an end of the world party. but i thought, hey why not propose a road trip with my best friends and get laid? two birds, one stone, right?"

"mingi's getting laid? who would want to do that?"

"you want to go on a road trip?"

hongjoong frowned at mingi, while seonghwa dropped his bags on the table between you and wooyoung.

"you do realize the earth is going to blow up in forty two days, mingi."

"and what better way to die then doing what you love?" mingi raised a brow, matching hongjoong's body language.

seonghwa frowned as he tossed the plastic bags in the kitchen drawer, "you want to die partying?"

"i want to die getting the life sucked out of my -"

wooyoung and san's laugh drowned out the rest of mingi's words. you couldn't help but join, the laughter contagious.

in that moment, as seonghwa placed more shot glasses on the table, you could only think of how in a way mingi was right. the world was going to end in forty two days. six weeks. the world was ending, and you could do whatever you wanted.

you had to. your gaze flickered over wooyoung, to san with his head resting on wooyoung's shoulder.

"maybe," you said, "a road trip isn't a bad idea."

a smile tugged at hongjoong's lips as he downed another shot and said, "yeah, maybe it isn't."

wooyoung's voice was quiet, a sobering thing, when he said, "what else do we have to do anyway?"

the muted television flickered behind him as he said it, and the apartment was still too-hot, and you all nodded as you took another shot.

truly, what do you have to lose? the sun would explode in six weeks whether you wanted to believe it would or not.

-

[monster-noises]

Idk maybe it's just because i had to deconstruct my relationship to gender and attraction in relation to society and i was an outcast kid so the rules never applied to me anyway and the knock-on effects of that

But i have just Such a hard time wrapping my brain around people acting like things have Immutable Rules.

Like yeah gender roles and power structures etc etc

But i also (and more specifically in this post) mean like.. how people use Tinder, or post art on the Internet, or Dress (which i guess can also be gender roles but this is coming from my experience of people of all gender's complimenting me and then going 'I could never' like yes you could!!! It's actually really easy!!! Just Let Go!!!)

Like i saw a video earlier today that was a really good like.. idk performance piece skit about Tinder and it was relatable as someone usuing the apps right up until he started going on about how people respond generically to get more likes and how it's more about getting the likes than connecting with People and you Can't be more honest because that's Not how it's Done and you Get Less Likes, that's not how you Play the Game

Which just made me go like *???????* Cause why.... Why? Why can't you get less likes? Why /Is/ that "just how it's done"? Cause that's not how i do it.. i'm in the system cause my options are limited in the world today but i don't Play the Game.. you.. don't Have to play the game. It's not Law, it's not Immutable Rules of the Universe

It's just weird social posturing and you don't have to do it...

And like Yeah i Don't get as many matches, and the ones i do still often end in ghosting, but i know the people who are liking me are either Actually connecting with something in my strange but honest and detailed profile or they haven't even read it and the two camps are easy to tell apart

And I understand that what the dude is talking about is a real problem, of course it is! It's something that gets in the way of the Bulk Majority of people's ability to connect on a very human level but it's not an unsolvable looping problem like the video suggests...

You just gotta.. not... Play.. the Game

I know it feels like your bound and trapped but truly you can do whatever you want forever

And it just Baffles me when i see people wrapped up in limitations like this

[backstreetsback-ohorat]

It’s been so long since I wrote something here and so much has happened since. Two and half months after my last post, I met the sweetest boy on Tinder. From April 2021 to today, October 2024, we both grew together and I for one, have become more of a woman than I ever was.

I married him, J, on Feb this year, in the most beautiful ceremony. He’s my best friend, my confidant, and my serotonin supplement. Having him in my life has given me the rock I always looked for as I was dragged by the harsh currents of life. I am off anti-depressants now, I learnt swimming, and have been admitted to Uni of my dark academia dreams. Life had been so stagnant the last few years, now that the wheels are turning, I am feeling so overwhelmed. Im sitting on my plane sitting all choked up on tears.

On one hand, I am incredibly attached to my parents who have singlehanded been my crutch. Although Im learning to walk on my own, I am so scared of leaving them. Especially seeing how child-like dad behaves these days. I will also miss mom so much. But it really is time for me to let go of the dependency. I am 28 now, it’s time.

The long distance with J also finally ends. Dunno how we got so far but we did it. Which I guess holds testament to how much we want to hold onto each other. I love him so much. He’s my dearest. I hope I can be a good partner to him in Germany, much better than I was in India. I have spent most of the last 3 years fighting with him and letting my cynicism rule over my love. I want to be rounded enough for him to hold, because I have just been made of multiple sharp edges, cutting him for so long. Do I have it me to be tender? He deserves it. I will learn.

Now that I am gone from Mumbai, I hope mom and dad really understand what I was to the family all these years. My emotional labour has been unnoticed for so long. I deserve some credit, in the form of love. If it doesnt happen also it’s fine tbh. I am moving ahead.

I will focus on my studies and be the nerd I always liked being. I have missed it for so long. Heidelberg looks beautiful. Ngl I did cry happy tears because I get to study there. Hehe. I will update on how it goes. Now, off I fly to Frankfurt.

26.10.2024

[casspurrjoybell-20]

FOOLS IN LOVE - Chapter 2 - Part 1

BOOK THREE: 'Fools Fall in Love' Trilogy

*Warning Adult Content*

Noah Wright

My head fell back as I let out a groan and gripped his waist tighter.

Pure ecstasy running through my veins at each thrust.

Fuck, he felt so good and to watch him bent over the metal prep table 'knowing we would get fired for this if there were cameras' was a big turn on.

His hand went between his legs to stroke himself but instead of him doing it, I pulled him up so his back was against my chest.

My hand slipped up his shirt to graze over his taut chest, just to slide back down and take hold of him.

"Oh, fuck," he moaned at my touch when I began jerking him off.

"Don't stop, I'm gonna cum."

I kissed his shoulder blade then bit lightly on his earlobe.

"God, you're so fucking hot," I told him, in a hushed voice.

He whined out a moan as his load shot out, spilling onto my fingers 'and a little on the prep table, we cleaned it up afterwards'.

I pushed him back down against the table and fucked him harder before I came into the condom.

"Fuck," I breathed when I pulled out.

"You were right, I feel better now."

I slipped the condom off and put it in the trash, I'd be taking out that night.

Wesley pulled up his work slacks, while I put my dick back in my pants, before zipping them up.

He grinned at me.

"Fucking always helps cure my anger."

"I can't imagine you ever getting angry."

Wesley and I met a while back at a gay club.

We exchanged numbers which I'll admit was shitty of me because I was in a relationship at the time 'not to defend myself but I was very drunk'.

Then a couple months ago 'post relationship' I ran into Wes at a grocery store buying bananas.

We grabbed coffee, I had mentioned I was job searching and he put a good word in for me at Rosemary's a fancy Italian restaurant downtown that he worked at.

I started working there a week later as a busboy 'and sometimes a host' and we hooked up after my first shift.

We've been fuck buddies ever since.

Wesley shrugged.

"Okay, maybe just upset. Either way, fucking is always the solution," he spoke matter-of-factly then leant in to kiss me but I stopped him with my fingers to his lips.

He rolled his pretty, hazel eyes.

"I hate your 'no kissing' rule."

"We're just fucking, Wes. Kissing leads to more. If you want more try Bumble," I said lightheartedly, watching Wesley wipe down the food prep table with a multipurpose cleaning spray and paper towels.

He chuckled.

"I am on bumble."

He grabbed his flimsy cotton bag.

"See ya' Monday," and he walked out the back door, leaving me to shut off the lights and close up.

That was how I spent my summer leading up to my sophomore year of college, meaningless hook ups with Wesley 'some on Tinder' and working non-stop.

Oh and also kicking my roommate's ass in Super Smash Bros Brawl.

Which was what I was doing after work.

********

"Ha. You fucking suck," I exclaimed.

"I hate this game," Ciera grumbled, tossing her controller onto the floor 'she was a sore loser'.

Ciera's been my roommate since June, three months ago.

She's my best friend, my support system, my go-to person for everything in my life.

I wouldn't be alive today without her, literally.

"Alright, I'm going to go and get ready for the party."

"Ciera," I groaned.

"I really don't want to go. It's been a shit day," I whined.

"Plus, if that dickhead, sociopath is gonna be there..."

"Jude's not gonna be there," Ciera promised.

"I already talked to Dinah. He went to the Last Friday party and I guess he's going to a different party tonight."

Then she pointed at me with stern eyes as she spoke.

"And you said you'd go with me."

I rolled my eyes.

"You're the best wing-man."

"Ugh, fine," I complied.

"Great. Imma go shower," and Ciera headed down the small hallway and entered the door to her left.

I sighed.

Whatever, I'll just help Ciera get laid 'as if she needs help, she's hot as hell' and Jude won't be there.

It'll be a good time.

[nsk96]

Another rant post lol. I stood up for myself some more.

So I went to show my mom this cute pokemon tote bag I bought online and she said "I thought you didn't care for these bags." I said, "I never said I didn't, plus I'm older now so I have more use for it." Bringing up age, my mom wanted to talk about my clock lol. I reminded her that I don't want to have kids.

Then I was like "when would I even get married? I don't have time to date. I don't even have time to shower"

She said, "You need to make time."

I said "How? You freak out whenever I have to hang out with [lady friend]. And you won't even let me go to the store by myself. You're okay with me being with a man alone? a MAN?"

Then we had this whole argument about how I had guy friends that my parents told me not to hang out with one-on-one while on campus (in college). These guy friends that I've known since high school and that my parents met twice. Well, guess what a couple of them did want me to hang out with them alone, but in a platonic way like they do with each other though, but my parents always assume the worst.

And of course my mom want to deny all of that and she was like, "you never communicated that you wanted to hang out with..." Ummm, yes I did that's how the conversation came up in the first place when both she and my dad told me not to hang out with them alone in any non-crowded areas 🙄. Then I told her that she and my dad were always saying not to hang out with them alone in that way and she said I never communicated that I wanted to hang out with any guy alone. But yet she admitted to being protective. She was like, "that's the problem, you take one rule and apply it to everything..."

She kept saying that it's unfair that I'm blaming this on her, as if I didn't have to have whole online relationships behind her back to avoid getting in trouble just to have some dating experience to figure out what I want in a relationship. Turns out you can learn a lot from the safety behind a screen. Learned how to respect myself and that no male validation is worth tearing myself apart. But still, people-pleasing tendencies are hard to break especially when they were taught and are reinforced by your mother.

My brother also had to date behind her back as well because she wants to control everything. Once she writes a person off, she's going to want you to stop seeing them. She's always been a judgemental person, and no one is good enough for her; doesn't trust anyone. She always referred to my friends as "slop" despite telling me how wisely I picked my friends. Like, which one is it??? They're slop because they're not studying to become doctors? Is that it? Is being a good person who looks out for me not good enough criteria?

My brother also faced contradictory statements about his friends and girls he was interested in as well. Of course, she wanted him to date the Indian girl that was his friend just because she was Indian, instead of the black girl at school he had a crush on, who got straight A's and was really respectful. Honestly, if my mom wasn't so anti-black when it came to dating, my brother probably would have ended up with the nice girl instead of eloping with the Jamaican girl who used him up. Or here's a thought...he would have felt comfortable to date around until he found the right person. I technically have more dating experience than him just because I was fortunate to have things like kik messenger and Tinder.

She said to me, "you don't communicate. I'm always screaming at you to communicate..."

I replied, "then you should stop screaming." Then I walked away and went back to my bedroom. She was like, "there you are walking away again." What's the point in sticking around to argue? Listen to you keep denying things like you always do? Then let you try to fill my head with your new version of past events like you always do? No thanks. She is to blame. My brother and I never felt safe to open up to her about things. The only time I'd open up to her was if I felt really scared about something or if I thought I was going to get in trouble for something.

At age 27, I'm now having these kind of conversations with her. From what I'm hearing from other people, some people don't have these conversations with their parents until they're in their 40's. Maybe I should close myself back up again and wait until then since she isn't ready to accept any responsibility to contributing to the volatile environment we grew up in and being hostile towards us for everything just because she didn't know how to regulate her emotions.

When I got to my room, I said, "ask [brother]". I'm not sure she heard me. It feels good to have stood up for myself though. I usually get all deer-in-headlights during confrontation and arguments but this...this was a nice change. Maybe it's because I don't feel physically well enough to care about her feelings at the moment. I don't know...but I strangely like it

[freyous]

Todd and the Djinn

This is based on this prompt on r/writing prompts

The great Djinn lay on a couch across from a new mortal he had found. “I just don’t get it. Kings and Queens who once had everything would give up so much just for one wish I could grant… and now these mortals who have things like… Tinders and Netflixes wouldn’t so much as ask for an endless supply of gold…” He held his head in his hand and sighed. “Where did I go wrong?”

The therapist swallowed dryly, but then leaned back in his chair, holding a pad of paper in his hand. “Well… Great Djinn…?” He looked toward the large figure who spilled over the couch of his room expecting to learn his name.

“Great Djinn! You are the first to call me by my name in so long… People just call me genie or Al-addin… I swear I will find this Tyrant Dis-ney and…” He let out a long drawn sigh once more. “I think I just miss being useful.”

He raised a finger to interject. “I think that is part of it, but you… may miss the control tied to granting these wishes on to other people…” Reaching for a pen he began to write down some notes and look toward the Djinn.

“It was never about the control… was it?” The Djinn scratched the top of his head as he began to move through his thoughts. Quite literally, he moved through time and space in his mind and would grow silent as he traveled through the great palace of his mind, modeled after Sultan Amir Ahmad’s Bathhouse. Or rather, the bathhouse is modeled after the Djinn’s mind palace.

“Well, you mentioned beforehand that they were hard to tempt?” There was some scribbling. “Why was it so important to tempt them? What was there to gain for you personally through their temptations?”

This broke through to the Djinn who sat up in the chair and looked down at the therapist. “What did you say your name was?”

He cleared his throat in the slightest twinge of fear. “Todd.”

“I should be calling you Al-Todd for this blessing of conversation you have done on to me…” The Djinn took a deep breath before letting his shoulders slack. “I guess… it started as a joke? Twisting the words of man in to my own work of creation. They asked for immortality, I’d let them live forever, but take away their ability to have children… they made for fun stories.”

Todd nodded his head and wrote some more. “Do you ever wonder what made you… want to turn their lives into fun stories?”

“Theres no reason behind it? I just… wanted to do it? If I was granting the wishes of men who already had everything I could have fun with it?” 

He stopped writing. “Do you think it could have been tied to… you have the power to do great things, but you seem to be more or less bounded to man-“

“Man does not rule me!” The Djinn bellowed down at Todd, who did no longer shrink at the Djinn. “Man… man just commands me to grant their wishes…”

“I want you to think back to-“

“I am already in my mind palace.”

“Okay. Well, Great Djinn, please think back time to the first time you ever twisted the wishes of someone.” Todd tapped the pen against the pad. 

“Well… it was a Sultan from a bygone era… he asked for unlimited riches, and I gave him such. But he already had everything. Countless wives, what seemed to be an endless vault, children… So I gave him unlimited riches… from other men’s vaults.” The Djinn smiled to himself. “It was fascinating to watch him lose all he had to other men’s jealousy.”

“So, would you say that you were the first to, do not take this the wrong way, be jealous?” Todd looked up from his pad. 

The Djinn sat in silent introspection. “I suppose… if you twist my words, I could have been seen as jealous.” He scoffed at the idea of being seen as jealous.

“Did you do it, because you wanted to have fun with a little twisting of the words, or did you want to see what this Sultan had be taken away? He had material possession, things that you do not wish for, but he also had satisfaction in life. The moment more was offered he hopped at it.” Todd explained. “Potentially, you too wished for something as he made his wish. You wished you could have been satisfied with what you were doing? Granting others wishes for ungrateful people? I can see how one might get fed up with it.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Maybe.. but… no, that’s not the issue. The issue is people these days are too fed up with their own worries that they won’t take my wishes anymore!”

“Is it Djinn? Or, is the issue there aren’t as many people that will… listen to you?” 

“Few have ever listened to me like you have Todd… Maybe its for the best that people no longer ask for my wishes… I’d undoubtedly cause pain…” The Djinn leaned back in the chair.

“I didn’t say that, maybe you need to change your rules, your boundaries, up. What wishes will you accept, who will you grant wishes to?” Todd was getting invested in this.

“Well, Todd, I’d love to change that, but to an extent I am a force of nature bound by the laws that govern the universe that I am to grant the wishes of those who find my bottle, my vessle, my anything that contains me. I can’t really tell someone no…” The Djinn looked at his hands.

The wind in Todd’s sails died down realizing that, as much he could help the mental and emotional side of the Djinn, but he couldn’t just recommend some exercises or meds. “I understand… Well maybe…”

The Djinn twiddled his thumbs. “Yeah… so… did you wanna make your wish?”

Todd perked up in his chair. “Oh yeah, can I have a million dollars in unmarked bills?”

I thought this could have a funny little ending or maybe an ending that tops things off and it ends with them meeting once a week after someone makes a wish. It could make for a fun little comedy. The Djinn and the Therapist Todd.

[gnj9ata]

Life check point - Meh...

My friendship with one of my best friends is probably in shambles or that's just in my head. Who knows?

We talked about the recent royal rumble and stuff. I legit told him. I don't know how to fix this or move pass this. Considering you know about my dark fucked up past, well I guess that makes you a true friend now. You know everything about me. Even the shit you probably didn't want to know. I hope you are still coming to New York so we can have a face to face. I really hope that New York trip goes well.

It's one of my off days....I slept most of it away. Probably needed it. Now, just up catching up on YouTube videos.

Reading about how Mr beast used his resources to cure 1000 people of blindness and folks are made about it. *Facepalm*

I am probably a little depressed due to all of the stuff that happened with Miranda and all of my past coming out. But it's done.... can't change it now. I have my therapist looking into a sex addiction therapist now which if I am being honest, probably overdue. My relationship with porn probably isn't the best. However, before all of this I think I was doing pretty good with it. Now, it's used as a stress reliever. I mean, I always felt that was better than the alternatives. Drinking beer every night, smoking cigarettes or weed, using tinder for the occasional fling, doing crack or heroin. Everyone has an addiction I feel. Everyone.

And I have no urge to harm or hurt no one else. The thought hasn't even crossed my mind at all.

Been having panic attacks lately or that's what I think they are.

Strange out of body experiences?

It could just all be in my head....like most things.

I wish my addiction was playing video games. Like it use to be. I really miss that side of myself. I hear YouTubers talking about all of the video games they been playing and I get jealous... envious that they still enjoy it and I don't. Or not as much as I use to.

Hmmm.... just had an idea.... maybe join nick on those DT gameplay streams?

Just a thought. It's funny because I am legit trying everything in order to get back to how I was into gaming. It was my favorite pass time. I would legit sneak and play video games on the weekdays because I loved it so much. That was my mom's rule back in the days. No video games on weekdays. Me and my brother would play black ops one for hours. He would tell me the secrets and we would dig into the lore with articles and YouTube videos.

I brought that boy a YouTube server to try rekindle that magic. Now it seems like I am only having that multiplayer goodness with Fernando and his daughter.

I really did try to get him involved in everything I did. And now he would rather stay in the house rather than go on vacation.......*sigh*

Alot of things has gotten so much better since I have gotten older. The games and tech now is fucking nuts. But man.....I would be lying if I said I didn't miss alot of shit in my past.

My brother, my uncle Sam and his friends, the several different groups of kids we grew up with back when we lived at 3160....my step siblings, the MCA.... just a lot. I just really hope the high times or moments like that aren't over.

Playing video games with like minded people that enjoy my company...that high energy. And maybe I do have that and just don't realize it or haven't tapped into it fully? It just feels like no one really wants me around. Maybe that's how Devon feels? And is it the people's around us fault or our own heads working against us?

Still haven't figured that out yet. But the difference between me and him is I am not going to just give up or not participate in life because I don't like people or something.

No!

I am just going find sections of life that complement my existence. Surround myself around the high energy I am looking for. Like I do at work. People call me the hype guy there. I even have an employee that calls me the "hype master" because I bring the hype. Because coming into work shouldn't be boring. It should have some level of high energy.

Maybe my problem is not allowing life to just happen and not trying to always actively change it all the time. Just see where it takes me. I don't know. I just feel like if I do that, I am no different from Devon. From just giving up. And I refuse to want that for myself. I want to live as much as I can and experience as much as I can. So before I close MY EYES, I can say..

"I've lived"

And maybe all of the mistakes are part of that.

But I told my mom I am really sick of this trait of getting what I want and shooting myself in the foot in a sense and taking it away from myself. This trend of self sabotage. It's annoying. Do I keep taking these things from myself because I don't believe I deserve them? Why would that be? Because of my past? Or maybe there is nothing to really complain about on the grand scale of things. Because for one, I have all of my health in tact. I seem pretty healthy all things considered. So maybe I am asking too much of myself and the world around me. For it to be better. For it to be perfect. I don't know what the real problem is or if there is even one to speak of. Maybe just a season of sadness like mom says. "it's a season for everything"

I just know overall...I want to be around people that enjoy my presence, I want Devon to try being in life again, I don't want trey to hate me, stop feeling depressed or like trash, and I want to ultimately do some cool creative things with my life. I want my existence to have impact. Because impact transcends the grave and time. In a sense, I live forever.

But that's what I "think" I want on the surface.

However a thought has been popping up more than ever considering everything in my past and considering recent events.

Do I really know what I want at all?

I'm afraid it's a possibility I don't. It's a chance I have no fucking idea what I want for myself and out of life.

It could be argued that no human does.

A big one I have a feeling I want is peace of mind or peace with the self. Get to a point where I am ok with understanding the things I can't change and being ok with that.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." The serenity prayer....mom's favorite scripture.

Hmmm...The older I get though...some things are starting to make more sense.

[thewordsarecomingoutallweird]

Writing Practice - Eating Mary Jane

Ok let me say that I will be changing names to protect the not so innocent.

Some fun things to know… As fun as I seem (and I am) I am quite personally controlled and regimented. Everyone else in my family regularly partakes in the Mary Jane and I treat her like a tinder date. At the time this story occurs: While I have partaken I had never personally purchased weed. My friends and I have gone to see Emmet Otters Jam Band in Saratoga, NY every year for 20+ years and as I mentioned this is usually the time I cut loose because Buttchug under the influence of anything is a force of nature.

Now picture it Irvington, New Jersey 2006. I get a call from my best friend Keg Stand. He informs me that his weed connection was out and I have to buy the weed for the concert. I informed him that I don’t know where to even get weed. He then says “buttchug you’re black and you live outside of Newark. You just need to step outside.” We get off the phone and I forget about it.

I arrive at Keg Stands house (he lives somewhere in NY between NYC and Saratoga) he asks me if I brought week and I told him I didn’t. We start to argue and in trying to fix the situation I said one of the most embarrassing things I’ve ever said. “Fine! I’ll call my mom.”

Apparently my moms connection was out too and she got her shit from my kid sisters dealer. So here I am calling my kid sister to get her dealers info. Long story short (too late) after my sister makes fun of me. I bought weed for the first time.

Now Keg Stand and I didn’t just buy the weed to roll blunts. We did some of that but we decided for the first time to make brownies. Which neither of us had tried let alone make. We follow some recipe on the internet and voila brownies. We decide to try a small piece to see if we got it right…and nothing. So we each eat a whole brownie before we got on the road.

About 40 minutes into this three hour drive to Saratoga the brownies hit the two of us almost simultaneously.

Keg stand said last thing either of us said before we arrived in Saratoga was “we didn’t fuck up the brownies”

High as fuck, we arrive in Saratoga and go to our friend Tee Ball’s house (this name hasn’t been changed. We set him up for a three some and he whiffed like a kid striking out in tee ball) Tee Ball at the time lived with his dad and they let us crash after the show. Keg stand and I get it together long enough to make pleasantries with Tee Ball sr. and grab Tee Ball before we head to the concert.

We give Tee Ball a brownie and decided that he just can’t have one alone so Keg Stand and I each have another brownie.

At this time every year that we’ve seen Emmet Otters Jam Band we parked in the same spot and tailgated knowing that we’d meet up with a lot of the same people. We usually have a sprawling set up with booze, barbecue and good tunes. And we packed all of those things but set up literally none of it for the first three hours. I literally sat in a chair staring at the woods thinking I was watching Avatar. (It was 2009 not 2006-ooops).

Eventually we get our shit together and in celebration what do you think we did? You guessed it another brownie.

So after about an hour, very high we get our usual set up going. Everyone is having a good time despite the cops walking around being assholes. At this point we all get paranoid and we all decide to play “spot the undercover narc”. Tee Ball and Keg stand thought it was this crunchy middle aged dude. I disagreed I thought it was this young dude trying to convince girls that this game “frisbeer” was a thing. If you’ve never seen it you have two sticks and a beer bottle goes on each about 25 feet away. The rules are fuzzy to me but you have to hit the bottle with the frisbee or something. That guy, the frisbeer aficionado was my pick for the narc. I look over at Tee ball who is watching this game with me and think. “This game is fucking stupid” Tee ball turns and looks at me and with the biggest shit eating grin he nods yes. “Holy shit! Am I telepathic?! Can you read my mind? Tee ball nods yes. “Tee ball! I think this guy is our narc he’s trying too hard with frisbeer. This game is made up” Tee ball nods again. Making me sure of our telepathic connection. Sadly, while I was telepathic, I never gained the ability to see the future and I was wrong about frisbeer. It took off and I see dumb white people playing it at tailgates now.

Epilogue…our telepathic connection was broken by a scream of “WE GOT A RUNNER”. Across the parking lot one kid is evading cops on foot, car and horseback. He needed to cross the field we were on and then he would have lost them in the woods. Hundreds of high, drunk Emmet Otter’s Jam band fans are chanting “fuck the police” because this kid is about win at GTA when the crunchy middle aged dude comes out of nowhere and body checks the kid to the ground. My friends were right about who narc was. The cops apprehend the kid and force us all to pack up and walk to the concert. The brownies hit me the hardest mid concert and I slept through most of it.

[kronk-cooks]

-

Kronk just chuckled at how spent Hercules was, he would be lying if he also wasn't exhausted. They'd been on a hike and had been going at it for a little while. It was enough to make any man need some recovery time.

He waved off the apology, "No, no need to apologize. That was good for me. I don't mind taking control if its given. I mean, I do think we need to discuss a few things for ground rules if we're going to get into that kind of dynamic again, but I wouldn't mind it." He did think it was a nice arrangement, if they were to continue it. "I don't normally do this on a first date either, but can you blame me? The idea of it was too much to pass up. Especially when you were so eager." He gently stroked his face to reassure him, "We're all good."

As Kronk turned a bit, working out his back and twisting sideways, "Good Peruvian genes I guess." He gave a slight shrug with a good natured grin on his face. Of course, there was more work and mindfulness but he didn't like to brag so much. He did take the time to look at the man thoroughly fucked and splayed out on his bed. Bit of pride, bit of arousal coursing through him at the sight of such a strong man basically reduced to a ragdoll.

"Join me when you recover." He walked out to the bathroom, turning on the water and pulling out extra towels. He got to glance at himself in the mirror and just let out a laugh to himself. His hair was all over the place, wavy bits standing up every which way. He flexed a little, posing in front of the mirror, because he couldn't help himself and then stepped into the hot water of the shower, rising down everything from the day. First order of business was to make sure his hair wasn't going to be in terrible knots, so he squirted some shampoo in his hands and got to lathering, amused smile on his face as he replayed the events of what had gone on that day. Who would have thought this is how a tinder hike date would end?

@kouros-herc

Hike Ho, Hike Ho || Kronkules

[obsessedasusual]

King of Communication - Happy Lowman x Reader

Pairing: Happy Lowman x Reader

Warnings: Talk of sex, swearing, talk of periods/blood, a little bit of angst - not really only kinda!

Summary: Happy learns that he really fucking hates Tinder.

Note: Ticking off these WIPs is giving me an adrenalin high. I love me some Happy, and we all know he's not the most expressive person - so this happened!

When you heard the Harley slowly pull up your driveway it was close to 10pm. You let out dramatic groan, throwing your head back against the arm rest of the sofa, why does nobody call before turning up these days?

The knock was heavy against the door.

“Come in!” yelling over the noise of the TV. It could only be one person, he knew where the spare key was, and you’d be damned if you were leaving the blankets you’d cocooned yourself in. The lock turned and heavy footsteps soon found their way into your home.

You called out to him again, “Boots off!” you could almost hear his eyeroll. He knew your rule yet every time he turned up he needed to be reminded. If he wanted to walk dirt all through his house that’s on him, but this was yourhouse and the last thing you wanted was to have to clean up after him with the vacuum.

You stared at the living room door, waiting for him to appear.

Happy moved to lean against doorframe and raised his eyebrows quizzingly when he saw the mountain of blankets you were under.

“Don’t look at me like that, you’ve found me like this before.”

“It’s the middle of summer, Y/N.” you often wondered how his voice got to be so raspy, you’d never heard anything quite like it – but man did you love it.

“We’re not having sex.”

“Why?”

“I’m on my period.”

“And?” he shrugged, eyebrows still raised.

“Gross, Happy! We’re not fucking while I’m bleeding. Had you called before turning up, I could’ve saved you a trip and had your welcome home party somewhere else,” from what you knew, Happy had been on a run up north for a week, “Doesn’t the club have girls at the ready when you want to get your rocks off? Crow somethings?”

“Croweaters.”

“That’s an awful thing to call someone.” another shrug came your way.

“You got any food?” Happy didn’t wait for a reply as he turned and made his way to the kitchen, always one to make himself at home at your place. A minute later he returned with a plate of cold pizza and a beer in hand. Moving toward you on the couch and kicking at your legs lightly, silently asking you to make room for him.

“You settling in for the night, then?” this was bordering on unchartered territory. Sure, Happy had spent the night plenty of times, but only after sex. He never just… hung out.

He threw you a sideways glance, “You kicking me out?” you silently shook your head, “then I’m settling in.”

“Just so we’re clear – we are not having sex. You understand that right?” the look he gave you was almost offended.

“I’ll try control myself.” he rolled his eyes, “I heard it’s good for cramps though.”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

It had been about four months since you kicked off this ‘friends with benefits’ thing. You’d come across him a couple of times at the clubhouse when Lyla dragged you along to their parties, never paying him much mind until one night where you were both downing tequila shots one minute, and then going at it like rabbits in his dorm the next.

He hadn’t kicked you out that night, so you’d had another round in the morning. And somehow it had just continued. He’d turn up when he was in the mood, and you’d send him a ‘you up?’ text when you had some frustrations you needed taking care of.

You had no idea why he kept coming around to you and wasn’t just taking advantage of the whole ‘croweater’ situation, but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. Happy was good in bed. Better than good. He always managed to scratch that itch. And scratch it at least three nights a week. He always tried for more, but sometimes you just needed a wine and some crappy TV to pass the night.

“Why the fuck are we watching The Bachelor?” he grunted when you landed a sharp kick to his thigh.

“It’s trashy reality TV and I love it. I’m the one dying here, so I get to pick.”

You let out a content hum when his hand moved to rub your calf lightly.

“You need one of those heat pack things or something?” you couldn’t stop the soft smile that fought its way to your face as you turned to face him. The Tacoma Killer was sitting on your couch, watching The Bachelor, asking if there was anything he could do to help your unease. There’s no way anyone would believe you if you told.

“I’m okay, Hap.”

He nodded and turned back to the show he claimed to hate so much. The episode dragged on while you and the biker sat in silence, his hand continuing to rub lightly over your calf. You could feel yourself start to nod off when your phoned dinged on the coffee table. You were going to ignore it when it buzzed again, and then once more, groaning as you made a move to sit up. Happy lightly pushed at your shoulder to keep you in your comfortable position and leaned forward to grab the phone himself. You felt his eyes on you in a glare.

“Why the fuck is someone messaging you on Tinder?” he held your phone out of reach.

“Because I want to date, Hap.” you replied nonchalantly, “Give it here, who is it?”

“Some prick Josh – what do you mean you want to date?” his eyebrows were furrowed as he glared at you, clearly not pleased with this new intel.

“What do you mean, what do I mean? I’m a woman, I’m interested in dating a man. What’s the big deal?” you pushed yourself into a sitting position to make a grab for the phone, instead of letting you have it he stood from the couch to star down at you.

“You been fucking other guys while you’ve been with me?” his tone was accusing, and almost one of disbelief.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no. I have not slept with anyone else, I’ve just been out on a couple of dates.” you stood from the couch yourself, rolling your eyes when he still held the phone away from you and walked to the other side of the room. Turning back to you and pointing.

“None of my business? You’re mine, Y/N.” the way he growled it out made you freeze in place and just stare at him dumbly.

“Excuse me? I am not yours. I’m allowed to date-”

“You don’t get to go out and see other fucking guys if we’re together. That’s not how this works.”

“That’s not fair, Happy. As if you haven’t been sleeping with anyone else but me for the last four months.” you snapped back.

“I haven’t.” his voice was dark.

You gave him a dumb look, “Bullshit! You’ve always got your tongue down someone’s throat at those parties.”

“Yeah? When were you last at the club?” he was closer now, eyes narrowed as you silenced thinking it over. The last time you had been at the club was four months ago when you ended up in Happy’s bed.

He took your silence as your answer and nodded, “Exactly. You haven’t been there, because you’ve been here every Friday night, with me.”

You flinched at that. Because he was right. You hadn’t been at those parties because you were here with him. Which in turn meant that obviously, he wasn’t at those parties either. You ran your hand through your hair and sighed off to the side, almost speechless.

“Fucking hell, Happy. You only turn up when you wanna have sex, how was I supposed to know you thought it was more?”

“No, I turn up when I want to see you, we just happen to always end up fucking. We fuck, and then we talk all night. You think I let anyone else I’ve slept with stay the night?” his eyes had you pinned to the spot you were standing. Shaking your head in disbelief, how had you both read this situation so freaking differently?

“Jesus Christ.” your hands ran over your face before they dropped to your hips, “You have got to fucking learn to communicate better, man.”

He let out a dry chuckle, “S’what my mom says.”

“Well, she’s right.”

You stood staring at each other for a few seconds before you shook your head again in amusement at where this conversation had ended up and stepped forward, closing the distance between you and Happy and wrapping your arms around his middle, burying your face in his t-shirt. He hesitated for a second and then pulled you in tighter, one arm wrapped around your shoulders and one almost cradling your head to his chest.

“We good?” he murmured into your hair. Feeling you nod against him he took a breath and spoke again, “You mine?”

You pulled back to glance up at him, “That what you want?”

His kept his eyes studying your face, nodding, “Yeah.”

“Then yeah.” you answered, lips lightly turning up at the corners. He leaned down and closed the gap between you, lips meeting yours in the softest kiss you had ever shared with the man.

“Good,” he mumbled against your lips, “Not fucking sharing you.”

[annesthaeticc]

Sweet November | Dr Strange x Fem!Reader

Sweet November : Chapter Two-November 1

| Series Summary: "One month." Stephen said, his gaze intense. He raised his hand, offered it for you to shake. "One month." you agreed, and shook his hand. The sign of a closed deal. Then he smiled at you, and from that instant, you realized, you just broke rule number one; no falling in love.

| Chapter Warning: none i guess? just smart ass/snarky stephen, bickering like an old couple, lil bit of fluff

| Word Count: 2184 words

| A/N: what??? another chapter already??? ikr, my creative juices will prolly run out soon, but i'm making the most out of it! chapter 3 will be up soon. comments, hearts, REBLOGS, any kind of attention will motivate me to write

“Shit!” you quietly gasped to yourself as your phone vibrated. You set an alarm to remind you of your appointment with the doctor. But you had to attend a last minute class to make up for your absence last week. You whipped your head, plotting your escape. You thought it’d be easy to sneak out of your class, and how right you were. 

However, when you sat back in the taxi after directing the driver to Metro General Hospital, your phone beeped, alerting you of an incoming message. It was from your professor, asking to see you in her office next time. Sighing, you let your head softly hit the seat. You closed your eyes, then drew in a breath. 

You were frustrated, having to pay for a taxi fare. You could’ve walked a few blocks but you were running late. And you’d hate it more if you’d have a bad impression for the doctor to see. Wait, why do you care so much about what he thinks about you? You asked yourself, and groaned. 

“You alright miss?” the driver asked. 

“Yeah, thank you.” 

Grudgingly, you paid the fare. You had to break your budget a bit, having to save up for an airline ticket. The plan was to go home for Christmas, a long time plan now, as you put off going home for years. The driver bid you thanks and you did the same. Hurriedly, you step through the hospital’s swinging doors and gingerly walk up to the reception. 

“Uh hi,” you said. The lady with the bright red lipstick nodded at you and asked what she could help you with.

“I’m here to see Dr. Stephen Strange, I uh, have an appointment with him.” you said. The lady gave you a once over and you instantly felt self conscious. You were wearing your usual street wear clothes; high waist jeans, white shirt, lace up boots, black coat and scarf. On your back slung was your backpack and you were sure your plaid hair had become a bit disheveled due to all the running. 

“Take the elevator on the right, his office is on the fifth floor. I’ll have the reception there to help you.” she replied. 

“Thank you so much.” you grinned and did what she said. 

Soon, you found yourself walking on the polished tiled floor. Everything was so bright; the walls, the floors. Must be the light. You asked the reception and they directed you to walk down the hall, the third door on the right is his office. 

On the door, his name shone on the silver plaque. 

STEPHEN VINCENT STRANGE, M.D. PhD. / NEUROLOGY SPECIALIST/NEUROSURGEON

You let out a whistle in surprise. You quickly gathered yourself and poised to knock on the door. But it instantly opened when you raised your knuckle to knock. 

“You must be Diana.” the man who opened the door said.

“Hi. Yes I am, I’m here to see Dr. Strange,”

“I’m sure you are. I’m Billy, his assistant.” he offered his hand and you shook it. He led you inside and offered you a seat. 

“Sorry I’m late,” you sighed as you checked your watch. 13:05 PM. 

“Ah, it’s fine. The doctor himself is running late, emergency surgery, I’m afraid.” 

“Oh,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, is it alright if you wait?” 

“Yeah, though I need to leave by two for work.” 

“That’s okay.” Billy said. 

In the first thirty minutes you spent inside the office, you were quick to learn that Billy was the one who suggested it to the doctor to find a fake date through Tinder. You chuckled, finding the situation ridiculous, and how you got yourself tangled up in it. 

“Why can’t he just attend the stuff alone? Is it really necessary to have a date while attending all of those events?” you curiously asked. Billy passed you a bottle of water and you nodded your thanks. 

“Not really, but he said he’s getting tired of the questions and the girls winking at him,”

“Wow, he thinks highly of himself huh,”

“He’s got all the right,” Billy chuckled. 

“Don’t you think he’s handsome?” Billy asked you. His head cocked to the side as he leaned against his table.

Pretty damn handsome. You thought. 

“Just fine,” you grumble quietly. 

“You can be honest with me Di,” Billy said, you grinned, having heard your nickname. 

“Is it okay to call you Di?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Now come on, your secret is safe with me,” Billy said suggestively. You gave in of course. He was easy to talk to, and you felt okay around him. You could at least gain a friend through this scheme, and that could be Billy. 

“Yeah, okay. He’s pretty damn fine.” you chuckled, blush creeping up your cheeks. Then you remembered his arrogance, his persistence and his attitude, and it was enough for your flaming cheeks to calm down. You were about to say ‘but’, but you were cut off.

The door suddenly burst open, and came in the doctor you were gushing about. His usual elegance was disheveled and he looked like he ran a mile.

“Who’s pretty damn fine?” he asked, his voice booming. Billy opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted. 

“Nevermind, don’t answer that. Billy, are you hitting up on my fake girlfriend?”

“Nope.” Billy grinned. 

“Hey! I haven’t agreed to be your fake girlfriend!” you protested. 

“Well what are you doing here?” he smirked at you before grabbing his water bottle from the mini fridge. 

“I—” flustered, you stuttered and ducked your head. He hasn’t even been in the room for a full minute and he was already grating on your nerves. 

Maybe it would be best if you don’t agree. You thought. But a voice at the back of your head said, just try, you’ve got nothing to lose, you’ll just gain a few silver hairs due to stress. You exhaled, looked up and gathered your belongings. 

“Are you going to walk out on me again?” Stephen asked. 

“No, I have to go to work.” you turned towards the door. You noticed Billy glance up at the clock and sigh. 

“Can’t you spare just a few more minutes, Di?” Billy begged on his behalf. Stephen on the other hand, crossed his arms, his face blank. 

“I don’t know Billy. Maybe I can if your boss can keep his arrogance to himself,” you said. 

“I can promise nothing,” Stephen said when Billy turned to him. You shrugged and clicked the door open. 

“Okay fine, I’ll keep it to myself.” Stephen’s voice rang through your ears soon as you crossed the door. 

You smirked to yourself and slowly turned back. You saw him, leaning against his desk, his hands shot up in surrender. Slowly, you moved back to your seat and from the side of your eye, you could see Billy cheering.  

“What are you doing over there? How are we going to talk? Do I have to shout—” he probably saw your raised eyebrow, your disapproving look that’s why he abruptly stopped whatever he was about to say. 

“Right, please, Diana, take a seat here,” he stiffly moved and drew the chair by his desk aside. You moved over to his proffered seat and leaned forward. 

Stephen drew out his calendar, almost half the size of his desk, each box was full of little scribbles, neat and elegant yet small, just enough to fit everything in every date. He looked at you curiously and he watched you. When you looked up, you were a bit bothered by the way he was looking. 

“What?” you daringly asked. 

“Do you have uhm uh, a pen and paper?” he was taken aback at your tone, caught off guard. 

“Oh yeah,” you flashed him a quick smile and pulled out your worn out journal and your pen. 

You swiftly flipped through pages to find your marked page. Stephen, of course, noticed the little details. He cleared his throat and finally settled himself on the seat opposite you. 

“Right, let’s settle the dates first,” he pointed at the scribbles at the side of the calendar that were highlighted by a fluorescent blue highlighter. 

Pen in hand, you started to write down the dates; November 4, November 9, November 22, November 29-31. All of the events were happening in the evening, mostly starting at eight in the evening. Some were happening nearby, just downtown, or a short drive away from the city. The last three dates, however, you noticed that there wasn’t a place noted. 

“Guess I’ll have to skip my shift this Friday,” you muttered quietly. 

“Where?” he asked. “Work,” you vaguely replied, a smirk on your lips. 

“What kind of work do you do?” he questioned. You felt like challenging him and so you gave him another vague answer, “Oh you know, a lot.” 

“Diana,” he sighed. 

“No, it’s true, I’ve got a lot of work.” 

“Could you, please, be specific? How are we going to make this work if you won’t tell me anything?” he begged. 

“This? This? What exactly is this, Stephen?” 

“I told you, we are going to be fake dating. I’ll just need you on these dates and in these exact times. Nothing more, nothing else. I’ll provide everything you need, and you’ll be there when I need you. We’ll set rules, the boundaries,” 

“So what, is this like a job?” you raised your eyebrow, your head cocked to the side a bit. “Yeah, and this is the job interview.” he replied and sat back. 

“Unbelievable.” you sighed and rolled your eyes at him. 

“Are you up to it or not? Tell me now, Diana.” he looked at you with such intensity. He’s exasperating, good-looking, and hard to say ‘no’ to. “Fine!” you replied, your voice raised slightly. 

“I think it’s too early for couple’s therapy,” someone from the back said. You and Stephen glared at Billy. He made a gesture that he’ll shut up, and you turned back your attention to the doctor. 

“I work at the Sundown Bar downtown, as a waitress, every Friday, from six in the evening to twelve midnight. I also work at Harrelson’s Books, Saturdays and Sundays, from three in the afternoon ‘til closing time. I also do volunteer work at a local daycare, every Tuesday and Wednesday afternoon,” 

“And you’re also studying?” he asked. 

“Yup.” you nodded and he hummed. 

“So you see, doctor, I’m just busy as you are, so can you please, try to tone down the snarkiness when we’re together?” 

"Oh so we're going down there now, okay," he grabbed the nearest piece of paper he could grasp, and it was a prescription pad. 

"Rule number one, no falling in love." you said, yet in your mind, you were screaming for the opposite. 

"This is a fake relationship, let's keep it that way." you continued, he nodded and said, "I agree, we're both busy. Maintaining a real one is not my priority right now." 

"Rule number two, you are to act like you're in love with me when we're together," Stephen said, writing down the words. 

"And that doesn't apply to you?" 

"Right," he scratched out the words 'you' and replaced them with 'we'. 

"Rule number three, no sharing of personal information." you said, and he nodded in response.

"What's rule number four?" he prompted you. 

"No sex." you quietly said. The words were clearly written on the prescription pad when Stephen suddenly realized what he had just written. He looked up and your gazes met. Then, he slowly nodded. 

"What?" you narrowed your eyes at him. He shook his head and chuckled. 

"I think that's all for me, do you have anything to add?" he asked you. You shook your head and he proceeded to pull his desk drawer open. He whipped up his credit card from his wallet, and a calling card of a boutique. He passed it to you, your face painted in puzzlement. 

"I did say I'll be paying so here's my card. And here's my stylist. Choose whatever you like; dress, shoes, jewelry to match, it's up to you." 

"You're very trusting," you chuckled. 

"I trust you enough, you don't look like a big spender," Stephen replied. 

"I may not be, but who knows, maybe I'll use it to feed New York's hungry and unprivileged," 

"I'll know if you do, Diana." he smiled. With the two cards now safely in your hands, Stephen stood up and you did the same. When you had your belongings tucked back in your bag, you turned to him and gave him a shy smile. 

"One month." Stephen said, his gaze intense. He raised his hand, and offered it for you to shake. 

"One month." you echoed his words with the same clarity and shook his hand. 

His hold on your hand was firm, yet gentle. You couldn't shake that bothersome feeling; your hand in his felt right. The deal was closed and there was no backing out. Then he smiled at you, and from that very moment you realized, you just broke rule number one; no falling in love.

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