#i want to buy the world a coke

[squideo]

Advert Alchemy: The Music

In this series, Squideo is breaking down the eight key ingredients to turn your advertising content into gold! In the last edition, we examined the importance of a slogan in creating the perfect marketing campaign. This week, we’re looking at the heart of every video advert: the music.

The ultimate tone setter, choosing the right music will underscore your entire advertising campaign – reinforcing the tone of your brand, captivating the audience and ensuring memorability. 

Why Does an Advert Need Music?

After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music. 

It’s a quote from 1931, but Aldous Huxley still has it right. Music will always take your advert to the next level. As we’ve explored in our Squideo Submarine series, music has a strong connection with memory and advertisers leverage this for one of five outcomes.

01. Evoke Emotion

This is the big one. Through music, you can influence an audience to feel the way you want them to. Looking for something energetic to get people onboard? Something understated to accompany serious footage? Make sure it matches your brand to avoid audience confusion. Don’t use a song about heartbreak to sell air freshener, and don’t use a song about the great outdoors to sell cinema tickets. 

02. Inc. Identity

Creating a strong brand comes down to some key choices. The company name and logo. The slogan and tagline. The colour scheme and font style. And the music used in your media. Nothing brings a company’s identity together like a well selected piece of music that encapsulates a brand. 

03. Transform Tales

Music can underpin the narrative of your advert, strengthening the story. Whether you use music to invoke a sense of adventure, compel an emotional response, or create a light-hearted atmosphere, music cues the audience to the most important part of the advert – whether they were watching or not. Nothing is more attention grabbing than a climactic swell of music. 

04. Convert Customers

We’re all familiar with the call-to-action (CTA), but instead of using a voiceover or onscreen text consider delivering with music. We’ll explore jingles later on in the Advert Alchemy series, but consider how a song choice can influence a customer. In Coca Cola’s Hilltop advert (better known as Buy the World a Coke) the song reinforces the message: do something kind; buy your friend a Coke. 

05. Advance Action

In 2015, Always launched a successful advertising campaign called #LikeAGirl. Targeting negative gender-related stereotypes about women and girls, #LikeAGirl is recognised as the second-most viral advertisement campaign worldwide. The advert is accompanied by a simple, understated score that slowly increases in volume as the advert moves away from stereotypes to focus on its uplifting message. The music supports the tonal shift without detracting from it. 

What Type of Music to Use

There are two main music options to choose between: existing music and original music. Are you going to use music your audience is familiar with? Or create music to set your advert apart from the competition?

01. Last Night of The Proms

If you’re looking to save money, it’s a good idea to choose music that is in the public domain. A lot of classical and opera pieces fall under this category which has made them a favourite of television shows, films and adverts, helping these pieces stay at the forefront of the public consciousness despite their age.

Alton Towers used the Peer Gynt Suite: In the Hall of the Mountain King. Cornetto popularised ‘O Sole Mio for British audiences so well that people abroad have been bewildered by outbreaks of Just One Cornetto amongst travelling Brits who hear the tune. 

02. Top of the Pops

Lots of adverts have used popular songs, and some can even take credit for popularising tracks. Unlike songs in the public domain however, these might come with a heftier price tag. It could be worth the cost, however. 

One of the most notable examples of successful soundtracking can be found in Cadbury’s iconic 2007 Gorilla advert. Cadbury’s use of Phil Collins In The Air Tonight put the song back on the charts 25 years after its release, but it did more than repopularise one song. The visuals were popular enough to spawn spoofs in shows like The Mighty Boosh and Children in Need. 

In 2016, it was voted Britain’s favourite advert. Not bad considering it has no Cadbury’s chocolate in it and no clear "message."

03. Name That Tune

Classical music and opera pieces may be easier to access, but there are other instrumentals to consider for your advert music. 

The theme song from Chariots of Fire has been used repeatedly, for example, including in advertisements for The Olympic Games and Nike. When looking for the perfect music, consider some of the most impactful music from modern media. Think of film scores, television themes, or modern classical pieces that have perhaps not permeated the public consciousness yet. 

https://vimeo.com/260803961?embedded=true&source=video_title&owner=82883588

04. Never Mind the Buzzcocks

For some companies, it’s not enough to soundtrack their advert with a hit song. They have to commission something just for them. The song We’ve Only Just Begun, for instance, was commissioned by an advert agency in 1969; when it was later covered by The Carpenter’s (after seeing the advert), the song became a top hit. 

Perhaps one of advertising’s best-known music hits – I Want to Teach the World To Sing (In Perfect Harmony) – was developed by McCann Erickson for Coca Cola to run in its Hilltop advert. It became so iconic, the advert is still considered one of the greatest of all time and has become intrinsically linked to Coca Cola’s brand. 

05. My Kind of Music

An original soundtrack is usually the hallmark of television and film, but occasionally an advert produces a piece of music so popular it becomes independent of the original piece. Take for example Chris Gunning’s theme for the Martini Bianco adverts. 

Their advert series – The Right One – ran internationally during the 1970s. The music, reminiscent of a James Bond theme, was especially fitting for the brand. Martini, the vermouth producer, is thought to be the namesake of 007’s favourite cocktail. 

Where Can You Get Music?

At Squideo, we’ve used a mixture of original songs and readily produced soundtracks. For the latter, we use platforms like AudioJungle and Envato Elements for royalty-free music. 

Looking for the perfect music on your own? Check out the following options.

On Social Media. For advertisements run on social media, there is an option to embed music directly from streaming platforms like Spotify and Apple Music which gives you a good variety of songs without incurring any fees. 

From Record Labels. Looking for something recognisable for an advert you want to share more widely than social media? Record labels offer advertisers music that’s under their ownership for royalty payments. The more your advert is shown and seen, the more you pay. 

The Public Domain. Numerous websites host copies of public domain music, free to download and share without the risk of infringing copyright laws. Some of our favourites are Musopen, Open Music Archive and Digital History. 

Directly From Artists. Interested in commissioning something original? If you don’t know any artists personally or through your business network, consider looking at freelance websites like Fiverr and Freelancer. Ensure the artist grants you the copyright at the end of the process. 

Music Sites. Like Envato Elements, music from these sites is paid for either individually or on a subscriber plan. Once the track has been downloaded, you can use it as many times as you want. 

Alternatively, if finding the perfect piece of music sounds like too much work, get in touch with Squideo. All of our videos include music. Have a look through our video examples to listen to some of our favourites!

Content Worth Gold

Get in touch with the Squideo team today to find out how we can improve your advertising strategy with video production, motion graphics, social media management and much more! 

[sqtorux]

where our blue is

3 years of gojo's blue spring with his best friends and ... you. basically hidden inventory arc with you in it.

it's 2005 and satoru had met you for the first time. you'd heard of him, the strongest. you weren't particularly excited to meet him however that was all for naught when another classmate came along. suguru.

you quickly got close to suguru and he got along with satoru meaning you also got to hang out with satoru. over time though, the three of you became inseparable. satoru's demeanor changed from a stuck up brat to a goofy one. still a brat nonetheless.

somewhere along the way satoru developed feelings for you. he wasn't sure if it's because he was impressed by your technique and perseverance or because everytime you laugh the world suddenly becomes a better place.

he thinks you're very pretty. the way you'd scowl at his jokes, or the way you'd scold him when he got too arrogant or the way you could see through the strong front he put up, like the person he truly was, he loved you. every part of you. he'd die before he'd tell you that though.

“arcade lets go” you felt satoru’s strong arm over your shoulder as suguru trailed behind chuckling at the very obvious display of affection only he seemed to catch on.

“get lost im going shopping with shoko today” you shove him off as satoru clenched his heart dramatically. “oh come on i need my cheerleader!” he quickly rushed to stand in front of you blocking your way.

“no. even if i were to come i wouldn't be on your side” you roll your eyes at him, he only pouted. “why don't you and shoko meet us at the arcade later? we have a mission first anyway” suguru chimed in.

“get him get him!”

“hah you lost!” satoru pointed as he laughed diabolically, throwing a high five at shoko.

as a punishment for losing, “try a smoke” shoko suggested suguru hoping to catch him lacking and choke on it but suguru managed to do it elegantly. as he does everything.

“hm for you, buy me dinner. all i can eat” satoru said triumphantly. and oh it was a punishment alright. “hell no, you inhale food i’m broke” you only scowl at him annoyingly.

“no this is your punishment, you can't refuse” he rests his elbow on top of your head. “annoying ass” you grumble at which he only chuckled.

all you got him was an onigiri and a can of coke from a vending machine. you ran away before he could protest. little did you know though, satoru wanted to have dinner with you alone, as a friendly date between two friends of course.

—

it's 2006 and with the new first years in jjk high, it was more livelier than last year. all of you had gotten pretty close, you especially with a bright underclassman named haibara.

more often than not, you spent your time with haibara chatting away and fooling around which satoru did not seem amused at. not one bit. he'd get more cranky over you but being the oblivious fool you are, you couldn't tell why.

sitting under the shade of the big tree at a park the students frequent, you relaxed after a particularly hard mission. out of nowhere satoru came and sat next to you without a word.

you didn't mind his presence and sat in silence until you felt him tap your shoulder. when you turned however, his finger poked your cheeks and you glare at him menacingly which he laughed at.

“you alright?” he asked as you shook his hand away. “better when you weren't here.”

satoru scoffed “you're definitely okay. i bet you'd prefer it if haibara was here”.

“i do actually” satoru made a face at your words not liking the way you admitted it but he didn't try to move further away, only closer. closer to you.

he leaned in till he was just a breath away. was this it? if he were to take this risk all the way and possibly confess, would you accept him? or would that ruin the friendship he had with you?

as he took his time debating, you snatched his glasses and giggled. “im taking this thanks!” you stood up and ran. ah well, there go his chance.

“hey give that back!” he started chasing you. you ran as fast as you could but you stood no chance against his unnecessarily long legs as they strode over to you.

he grabbed you by your waist and held you in place as you panted, out of breath. him? not so much.

you hid his glasses behind your back but satoru couldn't care less. his heart was hammering against his chest just from the way he held you and how close you are to him. it's like the universe was shouting and telling him to tell you about his feelings. he should have listened.

“hey hey look. i’ll give this back to you if… you buy us ice cream” your voice snapped him out of his own silly thoughts.

“us?”

“mhm. ice creams for suguru, shoko, haibara and nanami. all on you.” you grinned cheekily.

as if in a daze, he nods as you smile triumphantly. you brought his glasses and put it on him. you had to admit, you were glad he had to wear those, his blue eyes were so easy to drown in.

that night, all the first and second years sat on top of the school rooftop watching the stars while eating the ice cream popsicle satoru had brought, only because you asked. life was good.

until it wasn't.

due to a leg injury you had battling a grade 2 curse, your missions were taken by the other students. although you were disappointed in yourself you knew it was the right thing to do. at least you had shoko who was always at the school for healing since she was capable of using the reverse cursed technique.

however things never looked up from there.

when you found suguru's almost lifeless slashed body on the school grounds, the world beneath your feet crumbled. shakily you dragged him out of the debris and took him to shoko. you couldn't even begin to think of what could have happened to satoru or where he could be.

a few days ago, they had left on their mission to defend the star plasma vessel in high spirits. you guys even talked about having a school trip soon after they'd return but none of that seemed plausible now.

as soon as suguru was healed he immediately went away again, mumbling something about getting satoru. you couldn't follow because your leg wasn't fully healed yet. you could only stay behind and pray nothing happens to any of your friends.

when they returned however satoru felt, different. he felt colder, more distant. his uniform was covered in blood. whose blood? you didn't want to find out. that night he just fell into your arms in defeat, still cold, still shivering but still your satoru regardless.

that wasn't the end however.

the following weeks, you had begun to notice how distant geto had become. you'd tried talking to him but he'd brush you off everytime until you eventually stopped trying, but still assuring him you were here if he ever wanted to talk.

satoru was away on missions more and more. your friendship was slowly dissipating as much as you hated to admit it but you understood it was none of your faults. things happen. or that was what you keep telling yourself.

and you yourself had started going on more and more riskier missions on your own after your leg had healed.

as if the surging amount of curses popping up and then getting stronger and stronger weren't enough, you received news that became your breaking point.

haibara. how could it be? he had left with nanami on a mission abroad from which only nanami returned alive. it was hard for you to accept his death. ever since then you started completely detaching from everyone.

“i can't do this anymore” geto mumbled. you just stare at the floor unmoving, unfeeling.

things only took into a worse turn when you found out geto had massacred a village. he'd return particularly late one night and when you asked why, he sighs. “i just killed hundreds of people y/n.”

“why?”

“you know why.”

—

it's 2007 and satoru had found himself crying, begging for you not to leave. after the stunt suguru pulled, he couldn't lose you too. not you. never you.

“suguru is doing this alone satoru” he'd heard your meek voice say.

“what about me?” his own voice was shaking, choking on his tears. it was pathetic but he couldn't care less.

seeing your hesitation he begged more.

“y/n what about me?” he cried.

the way you looked at him, the way your body froze in place it was working. you wouldn't leave him, you'd stay... until you wouldn't.

“im sorry. i don't see the point in staying”

“don't go talking like him!” he screamed. he stood there crying, afraid to take another step in case that pushes you even further away.

“i’ve made my decision. nothing you say or do can change it.” you turn around and walked away.

satoru was speechless. his world paused as everything around him became blurry.

the only clear thing his six eyes allowed him to see was your figure disappearing into the crowd.

i love you i love you i love you

toads on the tip of his tongue. if he'd said that, would you have stayed? this question still haunted him ten years later.

satoru woke up to find the blindfold wrapping his eyes dampening. he chuckled dryly as he stood up from his seat. he was at school apparently napping at an empty classroom.

coincidentally the same classroom he had spent his happiest years in, now bland and quiet.

his students megumi, yuji and nobara had walked inside, bringing life to the once empty room. the trio reminded him a lot of you, suguru and himself, his heart clenches.

“were you napping? don't fall asleep when you called us here” megumi said to him as the other two took turns to sit in his fancy chair he sat in a second ago.

he let out a non humourous chuckle as his memories haunted him.

“what are you laughing about?” megumi asked.

“nothing?” satoru quipped.

it was far from nothing. he missed his best friend and you. especially you.

he'd once told himself he'd die before ever telling you about his feelings for you. how ironic is it that you had to die first and how much did he regret not being strong enough to protect you despite being the strongest.

because what good is it being the strongest if he still isn't strong enough to protect the people he loved.

tried changing my layout this time hehe. the third year is my favourite my poor bby gojo :(((

[sturnioz]

♯┆fully introducing. . . fratboy!chris .ᐟ

fratboy!chris is well-known around campus for being that guy. the one who hosts the best parties, the one who sells the best drugs for a good price, and the one who has got the best dick.

you haven't had the honour of meeting chris yet — although you've heard some interesting stories from all your girlfriends who have had some sort of encounter with him, mostly creaming around his cock and screaming his name in ecstasy.

you feel overwhelmed when you're dragged to one of your first frat parties hosted by the man himself, stepping over the sprawled-out drunken bodies on the lawn, pushing through sweaty crowds of people that dance to the rap music blasting from the speakers, and eyes blinded by the flashy lights decorating the interior.

the heat crawls up your neck when you witness your surroundings, some shoving tongues down each others throats with no care in the world, others smoking weed and lining up coke on any available surfaces.

the first time you see chris, he's lounging out on the couch, manspreading shamelessly. his arm is wrapped around some girl's shoulder, his hand gripping her jaw and drawing her in closer to place a small, circular pill on her awaiting tongue with a smirk.

he strokes her skin before patting her cheek, watching her throat bob as she swallows the pill. in return, she shoves a few dollar bills into the waistband of his pants and plants a glossy kiss on his lips to express her gratitude.

you probably should walk away and go find your girlfriends, not wanting to risk being some kind of creep watching everything unfold. but the embarrassment is already seeping in when chris' eyes flit over to you as he turns his head.

his eyebrow raises as he takes you in, his gaze lingering on the dress you're wearing — a little shorter than your usual attire and leaving little to no imagination, courtesy of your roommate who let you borrow it for the night.

chris pulls his arm from the girl's shoulder, adjusting the bandana on top of his head as he tilts his head to the side, and with a quick upturn of his chin, he gestures for you to come forward.

with your nerves swirling in the pit of your belly, a part of you wants to just turn and walk away to avoid getting pulled into whatever is unfolding. but the curiosity, the nagging sense of intrigue, forces you to make your way over to where chris is seated, unable to ignore the almost predatory once-over he gives you, his eyes trailing slowly up and down your body.

"i haven't seen you before," chris states, his voice low and smooth. he bends forward, reaching out to the table to grab his beer before leaning back. "what's your name?"

when you tell him your name, he hums and nods his head, repeating it to himself before taking a sip from his bottle. his eyes are still locked on you, making you fidget slightly in your spot beneath his intense gaze.

"come sit down," he pats the empty space beside him on the couch, an invitation that's more of a command than a request.

as you move to sit next to him on the cushion, you don't miss the way he carelessly shoos the other girl away from his side, watching as she rolls her eyes before taking her leave, leaving just the two of you alone on the couch.

chris shifts closer to you as he places his beer down, draping his arm across the back behind you. his fingers lightly graze over your bare shoulder where your dress leaves it exposed, and you can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he leans in, his voice barely above a whisper.

"'m chris," he introduces himself. you nod your head as chris' eyes drop down to your lips before meeting your gaze, a grin spreading across his face. "what d'you want, hm? need a lil' somethin' to take the edge off? make you feel good?"

"i..." your voice trails off, overthinking. you'll feel embarrassed if you don't buy anything after all this time, so you mention the first thing you're most familiar with. "weed."

"weed?" chris repeats, an airy laugh leaving him. "okay — sure, i got you."

he parts from you to raise his hips, digging his hand into his pockets to retrieve a ziplock bag of weed with a few pre-mades. he presents it to you in front of your face, swinging it back and forth almost mockingly and you go to reach for it until he snags it back.

"listen..." chris drawls, rolling his tongue across his cheek. "i usually charge fairly cheap for new buyers — to get them comin' back for more, y'know. but uh, but i'll let you have it for free if you let me hit."

you're stunned by his forwardness and confidence, but you're unable to deny the ache between your legs at his words — plus the numerous conversations you've listened in on about how good he is in bed, and you'd be lying if you weren't a little bit curious to see for yourself.

the journey up to his room is a blur, a mess of colours and flashing lights before you're spread out on his unkept bed, dress bunched up to your waist, a joint nestled between your two fingers as chris moves above you, his cock slipping in and out of you.

he's a lot bigger than you anticipated, and the stretch of him would've been far worse if it wasn't for the weed hazing your mind, allowing your body to feel floaty and relaxed.

"so fuckin' tight, doll — shit," chris curses through gritted teeth, arms hooked beneath your thighs as he watches your pussy grip around him, folds puffy and covered in spit. "feels good, yeah? haven't had good dick before? don't worry... i got you. gonna make you feel reaaaaal good."

his words causes your body to buzz, and your back arches against the bed with a whiney sounding moan, almost dropping the blunt to the bedsheets.

"fuckin' crazy if you think i'm lettin' this pretty pussy go... no — no you're mine now. should've let some other kid get to ya before me, cause i'm all you're gettin' now."

© sturnioz

[bunny-jpeg]

aperol spritz

captain john price

cw: summer fic, rich!price, pwp/smut, bulky!price, cowgirl position, seduction tactics, retired!price, age gap (reader is in her 20s), afab!reader, nipple/breast play, in birth control we trust, mid/plus sized!reader, italian summers here we come,

bunny says: here comes the sunshine! happy summer everyone <3 written while listening to "italian vintage summer"

you met him at last call in a party that you and your friend snuck into. it was in a terrace in a decently sized town in southern italy. you weren't looking to meet anyone that night, let alone anyone during your entire trip. it was your last vacation before you finished your university diploma. you were more interested in sight seeing than wealthy british men who offered to buy you a drink.

"you look a little lonely." he remarked.

you chuckled, "my friend is chatting up a local." the drink was placed in front of you. you took a sip of it, the coolness of it compared to the heat of summer felt good.

you looked over at the man who was trying to chat you up. he was taller than you, short brown hair, blue eyes, interesting facial hair choices. his skin looked tanned from too much time in the sun, the sight of his larger arms was enticing. he noticed you staring.

"the name is john, john price."

you reached over to shake his hand, "you sound like a bond character with that name."

he shook it gently, calloused hands touched your own, "maybe i am. maybe i'm on a secret mission to find the most beautiful woman in all of italy... to of course save the world."

you gave him a look and playfully nudged his shoulder, "alright sweet talker. i guess you haven't found her yet?"

he shook his head, "actually ma'am. i have." he placed his hand over yours, a bold move. he leaned in a little closer, "she's standin' right in front of me."

-

in hindsight, maybe ending up in bed with a british man on a breezy italian night wasn't the brightest idea. but the way he looked at you, the draw of his voice.

"well, don't ya look lovely." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed and started to untuck his white button up out of the waistband on his slacks.

you stood there, close to the doorway to the bedroom. you were in nothing but a matching pair of white bra and panties. it wasn't the most existing garments ever, but the way that price's eyes raked across your semi-naked body made your pulse jump.

he unbutton his shirt and kept his eyes on you. the faint breeze off the water came through the window. you leaned a little further against the door way, your thighs pressed together and your arms crossed.

"c'mere." he said in that thick accent of his, "i want to see if this is real or my imagination after too many rum and cokes." he laughed as he took the shirt off his body, leaving him in a white undershirt.

you swallowed at the sight of him with less clothing on, you got a good look at the strength in his arms and chest. you licked your lips to compose yourself before you got closer to him, "so." you stood in front of him, staring down at him, "why are you in italy?"

"didn't you already guess? i'm a secret agent."

you chuckled, "right, right." your eyes scanned across his body, "i guess it's all top secret."

he stood up and suddenly loomed over you. he undid his belt and dropped it to the floor, followed by his pants coming off. he then placed both his hands on your shoulders and said, "well, i guess i can let you in on a little secret."

you placed your hand on the front of his undershirt, "i love a good secret."

"former british army, captain and all." he chuckled. he leaned in and kissed you on the lips gently, "now that i've told ya." he picked you up by the middle and lifted you off your feet. he beamed at you, "i have to kill ya." then placed you on the bed.

you burst into laughter, "no one has ever really picked me up that easily." you covered your face to hide your embarrassment as your laughed.

he took off the undershirt and said, "well, you haven't meet people like me." which was followed by his underwear, "picking you up was like holding an expensive bottle of wine." he caught you in his arms as the two of you softly kissed.

"a big, strong, handsome britishman? i think i've seen a few of those." you joked and were met by another round of kisses that made you melt.

you two kissed on top of the white sheets, that felt nice against your heated skin. he held you by the back of the head as he deepened the kiss. he was a lover in a lot of ways. to be flirted with by someone so handsome was something that made you warm all over.

he took his time getting your undergarments off, he peeled your bra off of you like you were a fine treat that he needed to unwrap. once your chest was bared to him, he kissed at your breasts. his large hands fondled them as he licked across your left nipple.

"beautiful." he said softly, his blue eyes gazed up at you, "so perfect." his smile grew, as did yours. you combed your fingers through his hair as he worshiped and played with your breasts.

your legs mingled with his as he kissed and sucked at your breasts. your felt jitters pool in your gut from the feeling that raced in your body. he felt like a dream, your mouth went dry when he dragged his tongue lazily from the top of your breast all the way to your nipple.

"ah, john."

"you sounds perfect saying my name." he purred in response. his motions continued until you were soaked, he brushed his knee against your slick folds and made a soft sound against your breasts. he then looked up at you with those daring blue eyes, "are ya ready, love?"

you cupped his face and looked at him. you noticed the lines in his face and the grey in his hair. your heart leapt, despite the probably drastic age difference. he was undeniably handsome. you craned your neck to kiss him before you said, "c'mon captain price, show me what all that service can do."

he chuckled and rose up against you. his strong arms wrapped around you once more, you felt the muscles move against your torso, "call me captain again, love. and you'll be in a world of trouble."

you fought the urge to call him that again. instead you rolled yourself on top of him and prayed to the birth control gods that your daily pill worked like it should.

he gazed at you like you were a marble statue there for his worship. his strong, rough hands grasped onto your hips. feeling the fat on them. he said softly, "i understand why they craved statues of women with curves." he chuckled at his comment before he met your gaze, "because they are more beautiful than any other art created."

you covered your face once more, "oh my god."

he laughed, "see, i like that. i know you're hot all over. i can feel it." his cock was so close to slipping inside of you, "i want to know if that cunt is as warm as the rest of you."

you pulled your hands away from your face and positioned yourself on top of him. he held onto you and you held onto him as you sank down on his impressive size. you almost felt your stomach in your throat as you fully seated yourself onto him.

"that's it, love. just like that." his words were encouraging as the two of you moved to establish a pace. it was like your bodies knew exactly what you both wanted, if not needed. the connection was strong and the hum of pleasure in the back of your mind kept you going as you thrusted.

"ah. john." you whimpered as you rolled your hips. you held onto his chest, the hair between your fingers as you moved up and down on his cock.

the breeze cooled your heated back and your nipples remained hard. his chest hair and over all strength felt good against your body. it was a feeling of being fully protected. he engulfed your like a comforting flame as you re-positioned yourself to get the best angle with your movements.

"that's my girl." he purred, "my darlin' girl. you look so good. i wish i found ya earlier in my trip. we could've had a lotta fun on the coast." he beamed at you.

his hands dug further into the meat of your hips as he met your thrust with the same lust hat you carried. the metal frame of the bed squeaked under your movements and the headboard rocked against the pink painted wall.

you fucked with all the windows to the hotel room were open. you moaned like the sounds didn't make it street level. but you didn't care. the rush that went through you as you moved up and down onto his cock.

your cheeks felt swarmed with warmth as you felt his hands move up and down you sides, getting a feel for the angel on top of him. you traced your nails down his chest, feeling the muscle.

"yeah, that's it." he said softly, the heat in his face went all the way down his neck, "you feel so good, love." he chuckled then his jaw tensed as pleasure rolled through him.

you reached for his face and held it to face you, your eyes met and you pulled him in for another searing kiss. your heart thumped in your chest as the kisses became sloppy and the two of you edged closer to your orgasms.

his facial hair brushed against your cheeks, you felt so warm on the inside. it was like gooey caramel had melted in the pit of your stomach. you pulled away to catch your breath and placed both hands on his chest once more.

the pleasure filled the room, the heat that clung to your skin and the sweat at your temples. price's words were filthy with how much he thought you were so beautiful. you had never been buttered up like this before.

his grip grew harder and he took a bit more control of the pace. his cock hit against your most sensitive parts as the bed continued to creak. it wasn't long before you were panting.

your toes curled and light bulbs flashed behind your eyes. pleasure washed down like heavy rainfall and the air left your lungs. you managed to squeak out, "holy shit." before you relaxed and found comfort on your lover's chest.

price continued to hit your sweet spots with his cock. but the weight of you on top of him only made pleasure seep through his bloodstream. his head felt heavy with lust as he gave it a felt more strokes before he finished inside of you. for a moment, he realized that he never asked about protection. but he was in too much of a state of bliss to let his mouth ask the questions.

you both laid there, enjoying each other's company. he moved your head and kissed you once more on the lips. the kiss was sloppy and eventually led to a second round in bed.

the a third, followed by a speedy fourth. by the end of it you were both bone tired and you knew you wouldn't be walking right once you got up.

"that's my girl." he drew before he fell asleep on his back and his hand across his bulky abdomen.

when price was well and asleep, you slipped out of bed. you collected your clothing without making too much noise. you redressed in the hallway of the room before you walked out with your heels in hand.

that was quite the story to tell your friends back home. your face stung with a blush by the thought of it as you walked down empty streets before sunrise.

-

a month later you got a text message while you were back at home enjoying your new semester in school. you almost choked on your drink when you saw who it was from.

'hi, love. it's john price. we met in italy a while back. i was wondering if you wanted to go back, expect you don't leave in the middle of the night.'

it didn't take long before there was money being deposited into your paypal with the note 'for our little vacation'. maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to end up back in bed with a man like price. after all, you never gave him your phone number or paypal information.

but you thought about those arms, his kisses and the strength of his fucking. so it didn't take long before john price nabbed himself a pretty young thing.

xoxo, bunny

[romana-after-dark]

Dirty Old Man

Dark!Old Man!Logan x fem!reader

Main Masterlist : Logan Masterlist

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Summary: Logan is your driver, and one day he gets tired of keeping his hands to himself. Logan's POV.

Warnings: NON CON! DDDNE!!!!! Alcohol consumption, breeding kink but reader is on birth control. slapping. big, girthy, throbbing, rock hard age gap. crying, dirty talk. Absolutely wild slut shaming and misogyny in Logan's head. Seriously yall he's bad here. Theres nothing redeeming about him.

1.5 K words

Minors DNI, DEAD DOVE!!!

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He’d been watching you for longer than you realized.

Logan was used to taking odd jobs, having just enough to get by and when he tires of one place or another, he quits and finds somewhere else. But this right here? Yeah, he was sticking around for a bit.

You were a stupid little thing, silly and bubble head with a great pair of tits and a niave view of the world. He was your driver, taking you all around the streets of New York, anywhere from fancy gala’s to Sex and the City style luncheons -wait no it’s called brunch-, Sex and the City style brunches, to sleepovers with friends. Every time you hoped in the pretentious car, you slid in the back with a hello, and hopped out with a goodbye and a thank you. Today was no different.

A little crisp out for such a small dress, don’t you think?

Fall was coming, even if it grew later and later every year for the leaves to turn yellow and the wind to cool around you. Still, it never stopped dumb girls like you from dressing in the skimpiest little things, just tempting nasty old men like him, testing, teasing, until there was a consequence. You really needed to learn a lesson, didn’t you? One by one, Logan dropped off your slutty little friends, all dressed in an aray of orange and red and black and all the fall colors that were fashionable for bimbo’s like them to pay attention to. This wasn’t all your friend he’d driven to the club, some of them probably went off to get railed by some horny college student who just had to compliment them once or twice and they were sliding their underwear to the side.

You weren’t like them. You were wearing white, as pure as the day you were born, your sweet little head too filled up with thoughts of sunshine and flowers to be someone who’d let a man touch you like that. That’s why Logan wasn’t going to be ‘let’, he was going to take.

Drunk like your father every evening trying to drown out your nagging mother, you babbled on about the evening to him after your last friend left, filling him in on all the innocent fun you had at the club. You weren’t like the others, you didn’t grind on men or kiss your friends for attention or snort coke, you were happy with a several drinks and a good time.

“Back home, bub?” He asks you, looking through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, please, Mr. Smith.” You replied with his alias. He wanted to make you scream Logan, Logan, Logan. A pause. “Where are we?”

Logan had pulled into an empty alley, smirking at the knit of your eyebrows in confusion. “Gotta check the back tire, bub. Seems off.”

You were too drunk and stupid to question him. Naive girl, so trusting. He went to the back right tire, near wear you sat, and bent over pretending to look, knowing you well enough to know you’d open the door and peek out.

“Wha- *hiccup* what is it, Mr. Smiff?” 

He chuckles at you slurring his faux name. 

“You can just call me Logan, kid, I told yuh that.” Logan stands, bracing his arm over the car frame, leaning over you. “Everything, I’m afraid.”

You blink up at him in confusion. “Everything?”

“Yeah baby, looks like we’re gonna have to kill some time.” He makes his move, pushing you onto the leather seats and shoving you down. For a moment, you don’t struggle, just a yelp of surprise but Logan can see the realization of what's happening dawn in your eyes. Then, you slap him.

“Big mistake, kid.” Two slaps, one after the other in quick succession, are delivered to your sweet face, letting you know that however you fight, you’ll be punished. “Won’t help yuh to fight, sweetcheeks, only gonna make it worse.” He watches the tears well up in your eyes, your pretty lip quivering, but you don’t fight. You give in. He chuckles. “Well that was easy.”

Logan spreads your legs, grinding his clothed erection over your white underwear, making you whimper. “P-please don’t… I’m sorry, I-I I don’t-”

“Shhhhh, princess…” Logan wipes a tear from your face, nuzzling his beard against your neck. “Just be good for me, this will all be over soon, okay? But be that sweet girl I know you are.”

A dizzy, tired ‘okay’ and Logan leaned back to undo his pants where his crisp white shirt was tucked in. As expected, you simply stayed laid back and didn’t fight or try to get away. Such a good girl. “Take your panties off for me.”

You shake your head. “Don’t make me…”

All he had to do was narrow his eyes at you and you were scrambling to do as he said, making you complicite. 

“See? I knew you wanted this.”

Sliding into you was heaven, feeling you clench around him in fear, the tension of your body manifesting in squeezing him cock even as you got wet around him. He was your first, he knew that. Inside himself, he knew that, even if you hadn’t said. Because of course you hadn’t? Who would share that with her driver?

“Fuck princess, look at you…” Logan grunted as he began to thrust, watching your tits in that braless dress bounce. “Taking this old man cock so good, aren’t’cha? Yeah, just look at you…” He grabbed your hair harshly, yanking you up so you were bent over. You scream in pain, but quickly quiet yourself with little sobs instead as he forces you to watch him violating you, entering and withdrawing and entering again until he lets go, letting you flop back once more.

Logan’s cock slams inside you, and Logan bets you can feel him inside you, feel him prodigy at your womb, ready to be bred like a good girl like your deserves. 

“Are you on birth control?”

“Y-yes” You cry, covering your face in embarrassment. Are you lying? No, no he can see the little rod in your arm. He grab your tender flesh, and you cry out briefly again as he feels the stupid fucking implant in you, thumbing over it as he growls in frustration. He wanted to get you knocked up, make sure you were the stupid girl who got herself pregnant after he ditched town, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He gropes your tits through the dress, slapping at the side to make you yelp before moving on downward. You were awfully wet for someone who was crying. 

“Poor girl… is the mean old man taking your virginity? I know, I know, I’m the worst.” He swirls a finger over your slicked up clit, making your body jolt. “Fuck, such a sensative girl around you. Been years since I fucked someone so sweet and innocent, you’re -fuuuuuck, princess- you’re every dirty old man’s dream, you know that?”

He felt your cunt tighten at that, and he barks a laugh. “Ha! Don’t think I didn’t feel that, sweet cheeks. That make you hot? You like knowing old creeps think of our naked body while fisting their cocks?”

You cover your face. “No!”

“Princess, don’t fucking lie to me. Come on.” Logan touched your body, knowing he could bring you pleasure, wanting to feel your first orgasm gushing on his cock. “Give it to me, come on this old man cock, be the dirty whore I know you wanna be.” 

Your cry into your hands as your body betrays you, orgasming hard enough it pulled his own climax out of him. Even though he knew you wouldn’t get pregnant, Logan loved knowing that he was pumping load after load of his hot seed into your virgin pussy, knowing it would leak out of your for days. Morning after morning you wake up to his cum sliding out of your, reminding you that you’re nothing but a dirty old man's whore.

The whole ride to your penthouse, you laid in the back of the car, never moving from where he left you. When Logan pulled up to the building, he put his arm on the other backrest, looking down at you. “You tell anyone about this,” He let his claws fly out of his fisted hand. You could only flinch, your eyes drooping heavily. “I’ll end you, and whoever you tell. Got it?” Logan waits until you nod. “Good. Now get the fuck out of my car.”

Later…

You lay in bed, staring at your phone though the tears in your eyes. A shower couldn’t wash off the feeling of him in and on you, so you just gave up, stumbling into bed with your most comfortable clothes.

Your screen showed a message your forgot to respond to before getting drunk.

Remy Boo <3: Bon soir, cher. Text me when you’re home so I know you’re safe.

 You couldn’t tell him. Logan said he’d kill you and whoever you told… but if you didn’t respond, Remy would pull up to the penthouse and check on you. You did give him a key, and you owed him a response. He was your boyfriend, after all.

You: I’m home!!!! Had a great night with the girls. Im tired. Ttyl.

*************

Thanks so so so much for reading!!!! I might do a part 2 IDK. I kinda wanna see remy finding out what happened and that it was logan of all people.

If you like dark logan, check out my masterlist!

Our Gentle Sins is my logan series rn! I also wrote a lot of joel miller if thats your thing!!!!

Every single like, reblog, and comment means the world o me!

if you want to be tagged in my dark logan, check out my tag list!

If you want more logan bt not dark, check out @romanarose for my normal stuff.

@del-ightfulling @miraclesabound @oldloganslittleslut @shybluebirdninja @hornystan

[javierpena-inatacvest]

I saw this on Twitter and I just screamed because this is so Osita and Javi code 😭 like when she was having bad morning sickness and couldn't eat anything, but Javi just said her favorite foods and went to buy them 🥹

https://x.com/pascalisswift/status/1847825290875048157?s=46

McFlurry for Two

Summary: You're wide awake, pregnant, and have no idea what you want to eat. Lucky for you, Javi has an idea of what may make you feel better

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: This is all fluff and sweetness 🥺 Mentions of morning sickness and food aversion

A/N: Sweet non, whoever you are, this is the most adorable thing I've ever seen 😭 You know that this man would cross the ends of the earth and back to get you whatever you were craving. Dad to be!Javi is top tier, 10/10, no notes.

It doesn't surprise Javi to find you wandering around the kitchen at 5:30 in the morning anymore. Thank god he's always been an earlier riser- it makes it easier to keep you company as you shuffle through the boxes and containers in the pantry for the 3rd time since you've woken up, trying to will whatever you and the baby have been craving into your kitchen. Even if he wasn't an earlier riser, the sounds of you frantically scavenging through every food item you own like some sort of wild raccoon would be enough to wake even the heaviest of sleepers.

It also doesn't surprise him when he stumbles into your kitchen, half awake and half dressed, he hears the sounds of your sniffles, crying in frustration that you can't figure out what you want to eat at this ungodly hour of the morning.

"Baby's hungry?" He asks, never blaming you for whatever strange, nearly non-edible combinations you're looking for. He made that mistake once early on- He's learned his lesson ever since.

You still can't help but pout, arms crossed over your chest, trying to hold back your tears as Javi sneaks up behind you, the warmth of his bare chest pressed against your back, hands wrapping around to splay across your growing bump.

"Yeah. We have nothing to eat."

It takes everything in Javi not to laugh as the two of you stare into your open pantry, filled to the brim with every snack imaginable from the 6 trips he's made to the grocery store this week alone.

Truth be told, he's just happy you're eating again after 3 hellish months of barely being able to keep anything down besides bananas and diet Coke. He'll take multiple trips to the grocery store instead of watching you hunch over the toilet in misery any day of the week.

"Anything sound good, Osita?" That's a question he's learned is a gamble too- when you already have an answer in mind, you couldn't be happier he's asked. When you don't, he's come to find it's a question that can quickly lead to tears.

Unfortunately for him, this morning, it's the second.

"I-I don't know. I'm so hungry and nothing sounds good. And then I think something sounds good, but then I think about it for too long, and then the thought of it makes me wanna yak. Ugh, I just wanna eat!" For as humorous as the basis of your conundrum is, it still breaks his heart to watch you cry, gently kissing your shoulder and rubbing his hands back and forth across your belly to try and ease at least a little bit of your pain. You're growing his baby, for Christ's sake. If you wanted fresh spaghetti and meatballs, he'd be on the next flight to Italy, if that's what it took.

"Shhhh, I know, honey. It's okay. We'll figure out what Baby wants, I promise. Want me to list things, and then you can tell me if they sound any good?" He knows his one good brain cell is definitely not working full force, considering the sun was still hours away from waking the rest of the world, but he also knows that your poor brain is working overtime and a half. The slim chance he can come up with a solution that gives you any sort of relief is solace enough for him.

"O-okay." You sniffle, gulping down the rest of your tears. Javi knows he's not a mind reader, but Lord knows it would sure help if he could be one right now.

"Pickles and sriracha?"

"Ew, no. Spicy stuff sounds gross and I don't wanna have heartburn later."

"Sour gummy worms?"

"Ehhhh, maybe."

"Garlic bread?"

"Oh god, no. Please don't say that again, or I may legitimately throw up."

"Okay, not that, got it. Uh, shit- What about... French fries? Like, french fries dipped in chocolate ice cream?"

He braces himself for the next 10 seconds of silence as you ponder his suggestion. Thankfully, your silence is golden.

"Oh my god, that's what I wanted! How did you know that's what I wanted?" Even though you're still crying, at least now they're tears of relief, Javi letting out a quiet exhale of satisfaction himself at the fact it only took him a single digit number of guesses to solve your hunger riddle.

"Lucky guess." Javi smiles as he gently wipes the tears from your eyes, kissing your forehead before bending down to kiss your belly. It does a number on his knees, but he'll take all the joint pain he can handle before passing up on a chance to greet his two favorite girls good morning. "Try and go get some more sleep, Osita. I'll be back in a few with food. There anything else you want while I'm out?"

He's not sure what he's said in the past 3 sentences that's made you start crying again- he hasn't been able to figure out a pattern in the past 5 months, and guesses he won't come close in the 54to come.

"Hey, hey, hey, what's wrong? Baby, don't cry, it's okay." He coos, draping his arms around you to pull him against his chest, letting your weepy tears drip against his tanned, warm skin.

"I'm- I'm sorry." Your apology only spurs your tears on further.

"Sorry? What on Earth do you have to be sorry about, Osita?"

"That I'm always hungry and can't stop crying about it."

He can't help but smirk at this one, brushing the sleepy strands of hair away from your face as he carefully cups your cheek, tilting your chin up just enough to place a delicate kiss on your lips.

"Cariño, you don't have to apologize. You're pregnant. No offense mi amor, but I kind of expect crying and being hungry all the time to be a given."

Javi's relieved to finally hear at least a little giggle out of you now, quiet laughter replacing your tears as you remember that somehow, you were lucky enough to be married to a literal saint sent down from the heavens.

"I know, I just- You're so good to me. You're so good to both of us. Way too good to us."

"You're literally growing our baby inside you. French fries and ice cream is about the least I can do."

"I love you, Jav."

"I love you too, Osita. Try and go back to sleep for a little while I'm gone, okay? You and Baby Girl gotta rest up for this McDonald's."

As much as you'd love to protest, it doesn't take much for Javi to get you to curl up on the couch, wrapping you up in your favorite blanket with the TV on low. He laughs to himself as he reappears from your bedroom, putting on enough clothes to go through the drive-through, only to find you passed out cold, mouth half-agape and snoring like a train.

At this point, the McDonald's staff practically knows him by his first name, considering Javi's the only one who's ordering french fries and a chocolate McFlurry before the sun has yet to rise. He knows he has some at home, but it's more often than not that a large, black coffee has now become a part of his order, too, and none of the employees can blame him for that.

The sky has slowly begun to shift from shades of black and blue to warm pinks and oranges as he pulls into the driveway, a sign he's more than likely not making into work on time- his co-workers have learned that a pregnant wife pretty much trumps everything else, short of a life or death emergency.

You're still sound asleep as he tiptoes through the rest of his morning routine, scribbling a quick note under the bag of fries he's left for you on the end table next to the couch, sneaking one last kiss before he leaves for work and begins the countdown of coming back home to you.

It doesn't surprise him to hear his phone ring not long after he's made it into the office- He is almost sure it's you- he's got a 6th sense for it at this point.

"Peña."

"Your note made me cry this morning."

He doesn't mean to beam with an ear to ear grin as he listens to talk about how you're crying, but there's few things in this world he'd rather hear than the sweet sound of your voice.

"You crying at the note, or the fact there's two McFlurries in the freezer instead of one?"

"....Both. How'd you know I would change my mind and say I wanted vanilla instead?"

The concrete evidence is in the pile of crinkled drive-through receipts in his center console, but now's not a time for "I told you so's".

"Just had a feeling. You and Baby Girl enjoy your breakfast."

"This is the most embarrassing version of a breakfast I've had in a very long time, but I guess it's an upgrade from bagels and hot sauce. God, she's gonna have the weirdest taste in food when she grows up, isn't she?"

"If she grows up to be anything like you, I'll be the happiest man alive, hot sauce and all."

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[luveline]

Hii I sent the ask for more kbd could you please write them all going on there first family holiday lovely 🤍🫶🏻

love u <3 kbd au —the harrington’s vacation !! mom!reader, 1.5k

This is a good idea, you repeat to each other for weeks. Paying for the flights, making lists, getting Dove her baby passport, packing the suitcases days in advance. 

Most of the time you agree with one another. The day you buy Avery and Beth little swimsuits Steve can’t stop smiling, and the nights leading up to it are like Christmas for Avery when she remembers (and Beth when Avery tells her). 

But the night before you’re sick to your stomach, and then Steve can’t breathe right at the airport, but you get on your plane, and somehow the girls are good. Dove cries when you land because of the pressure change, but she’s soothed by the time you’re past the gate and into the sunshine. 

“Steve,” you say, Dove strapped to your chest, world's heaviest baby bag on your shoulder, “sweetheart, we’re here.” 

He holds Beth’s hand, who in turn holds Avery’s hand, trying to pull the world’s biggest suitcase behind you without running over his own foot. “I told you it would be easy.” 

Your children look beautiful. Avery wears a sun visor cap and a blue dress with white socks and blue converse, and Bethie wears dungarees and a short sleeve top, little black converse to match her sister but unable to handle the sensory nightmare of a hat. They look ready for the sun, and excited to be somewhere new. 

Dove sleeps on your chest. “Easy isn’t the word I’d use,” you mumble, kissing her forehead. “Okay, what’s the next thing? Are we getting the shuttle?” 

Steve checks his watch quickly. “It’s another ten minutes,” he says. “Is that okay?” He points at your harness. “Digging into your side?”

“It’s fine.” You bend with your arm behind Dove’s back, turning your smile on your sweethearts where they mill around their dad’s legs. “How do you guys feel now? So happy? I’m so happy we’re not on the plane, we can stretch our tired feet!” 

“Yeah, mom!” Avery says. 

“Can we have soda?” Bethie asks. 

And okay, you promised them treats if they behaved on the plane, but you’re on vacation. It’s allowed. 

“Yeah, baby, let’s go find you a coca cola before we get on the big bus!” 

You don’t want to pay seventy cents for one can of coke, let alone three dollars for three, but everything will be free when you get to the resort, so what does it matter? Plus, Bethie really, really enjoys it. She beams at the fizzing and begs you to try it like she’s worried you’re missing out. 

(It matters. You and Steve are raising three kids on one salary. All inclusive vacations are expensive. They all needed new clothes including you and Steve, clothes and haircuts and mini shampoos. But it genuinely won’t matter if they have a good time, and make good memories.) 

“Right,” you say near the shuttle, “Avery, you hold mommy’s hand when we’re outside. Beth, you’ll hold daddy’s. No running, and try to be polite. Deal?” 

Avery twines her fingers through yours, little tiny fingers to your fully grown ones. When she looks up at you, she’s practically a hundred percent Steve, his smile, his lovely demeanour, and his attitude too. “Duh, mom. That’s an easy deal.” 

Steve ends up carrying Beth onto the shuttle, and off of it again at the resort. She’s in his arms from the lobby to the elevators and into your suite, but she wants promptly to be put down when Steve shows your two girls their room. 

“Mom, there’s bears!” She gasps. “It’s Goldilocks!” 

A huge storybook mural covers their walls and parts of their ceilings, their single beds outfitted with gossamer curtains on four posters and princess pink sheets. “There’s a castle!” Avery shouts. 

“You okay?” Steve asks again. 

You’re a little tired from Dove's restlessness the night before, but you’re happy you’re here. You nod without thinking twice about it. 

“Okay.” He pulls you toward him. Careful, he unsnaps the buckles of Dove’s harness, loosening the cords that keep her tight to your body before pulling her out. She grizzles at being moved, and he pats her back deftly to settle her before it becomes a big cry. Then he’s cradling her one handed, loosening the straps of the carrier behind your back and taking it off of you with a kindness that softens you for the thousandth time. “There, that’s better. You look like you can breathe again.” 

Steve puts his hand flat on your chest and rubs a line with his thumb. “That’s a nice smile,” he adds. 

Okay, you think. Goner, total goner, you cover his hand with yours. From the girls’ bedroom you can hear the squeal of bed springs being jumped on and the zipper on someone’s mini backpack. “Can we have fruit snacks?” Avery shouts. 

Steve’s hand moves to your neck, your face. He rubs your jawline with the tip of his thumb. “Do they have fruit snacks at the buffet?” 

“They promised they’d have everything at the buffet.” 

You sound exuberant. You are. It’s nice to be touched sweetly, and to be somewhere cool. This is the life you’d dreamed of making with him, and at the same time, you never could’ve summoned this image of him. 

You can’t wait for him to take his shirt off by the pool. You’re gonna take a whole disposable’s worth of photos. 

“You have nice arms,” you say, feigning absentmindedness.

“Thank you.” He’s looking at you funny. It reminds you of when you first started dating, he’d get these weird moments of smiling and not telling you what it is that’s so funny, which would always inspire insecurity, but has since been explained to be awe rather than disdain. He pulls Dove closer to his neck and more toward his side, offering his empty arm to you for a hug. “You have nice everything,” he says, kissing you quickly on the temple. 

“We’re actually on vacation.” 

It always seemed too daunting. The more kids you had, the scarier it seemed. But one day Avery must’ve seen a commercial on TV or heard it from one of the little girls at the park, and she’d strolled up to you to ask you about vacations and the beach and aeroplanes. You’d taken her and Beth to Lake Michigan a bunch of times, but nothing feels quite like this. 

“Let’s hope it really feels like one,” Steve says. 

“Especially for you,” you say. 

Stay at home dad-ing is exhausting. You can’t imagine he wants to be the one in charge here too. You’re determined to pull your weight, even if he isn’t keen to let you, plans for secret lie-ins and well-researched playtime clubs at the resorts recreation centres. You’re not delusional, you know you can’t do this without him. Or perhaps you could, but you’d enjoy yourself a lot less. Either way, you’re wanting to have fun too, so he can take Dove from you and wrap his arm around you like he’s the one in charge for now. It feels nice to be doted on, better when he starts his fretting. 

“Do you want to get changed before we take them down for dinner?” He backs away enough to see your face but not too much as to steal the warmth of his chest where it kisses your arm. “Showers? You need something to drink. Where’s the mini fridge?” 

“Remember what we talked about?” you broach carefully. You have no intentions of patronising him, but it’s unfortunate he’s forgotten already. “Relax, honey. That’s what we said we were gonna do this week. You don’t have to make sure everyone is one hundred percent all the time. If I need something, I’ll tell you.”

“What sort of marriage do you think this is?” he asks, smiling playfully, his warm eyes betraying how happy he is even through his worry and facade.

“One where you kiss me like you miss me all the time,” you say. 

“Oh, is that so?” He ducks down and aligns your lips, the corded muscle of his arm lean where it presses to your softer back. “What do you do?” 

“Kiss back.” 

He laughs into your lips, a smile pressed firmly to a smile. 

“Daddy, can you help me ‘i my shoes?” Bethie asks. 

Steve breathes in deep as you part, hugging you tight to his side. “Where are you gonna go without shoes?” he asks her, genuinely curious. 

“To bed.” 

“You want a nap?” 

Bethie nods tiredly. “Planes are hard.” 

“Yeah, bub, planes are tough. You don’t wanna go have dinner first?” 

She shakes her head tiredly. It’s the first hurdle of your vacation, but it’s not a terribly hard one to navigate. 

“There’s gotta be some sort of snack in the fridge, right?” he asks. 

Family nap time commences just as soon as Avery’s eaten her fill of mini sandwiches. You sleep like a baby under Steve’s arm, at least until the real baby rouses for another bottle. 

[octuscle]

Cholo Life

“First the damned Democrats stole the elections from us and now they are stealing our identity!” Manolo began to roll his eyes. He was familiar with this. When KJ worked himself into a rage, he sounded like a personal disciple of Trump. ‘I mean that they eat the cats in Springfield and the dogs, it's not just an isolated incident, they do it everywhere!’ ‘Kyle…’ Manuel began. KJ gave Manolo a friendly punch on the shoulder. He knew that when Manuel called him “Kyle,” Manolo was angry. “Of course I don't mean you,” said KJ. “You're an American through and through, you're American as peanut butter!” Of course that wasn't true. Manolo was born in Lima, went to school in Lima, and only came to Minnesota with his parents at the age of eight. But his parents had placed great importance on him learning the language quickly, and today Manolo speaks better English than his best friend from school days, KJ.

Kj, on the other hand, was a prime example of a junior at an American college: muscular, bright eyes, fair complexion, of course he played American football, and of course he parroted what Trump said without thinking. Yes, he was damn good-looking, but yes, he was also a real airhead. And even though olu secretly had a crush on KJ, KJ was out of reach for Manolo. You couldn't be more straighter than KJ.

KJ was studying business. With a bit of luck, he would at least get his bachelor's degree. Manolo had already graduated from high school two years before KJ and was about to get his bachelor's degree in biochemistry. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who ran the research department of a seed company here. KJ, on the other hand, would join his father's trucking company and would alternate between driving trucks on the highways and struggling with the accounting in the office.

“Besides, you yourself admitted that you eat pets. You said that your grandmother serves guinea pigs.” ”Yes, but first of all, my grandmother doesn't steal the guinea pigs from some guys in Ohio, but has her cook buy and prepare them at the market, and secondly, guinea pigs are a delicacy where we come from. We find it rather absurd that you…” “All fake news!” KJ countered. ”Admit that the whole world would be in ruins without the USA. Our culture is simply superior!” There were situations in which Manolo was annoyed at being physically inferior to KJ. There were situations in which he just wanted to smash KJ's face in. It was really crazy that a guy who already classified cartoons as art wanted to lecture him on culture. His abuela had once given him a lucky charm that he always carried in his pocket. In situations like this, squeezing the stone firmly helped him. It drained the anger out of him. But this time was different. The stone became warm. The stone became hot! Manolo let go of it. He reached for the cold coke glass to cool his hand.

“Are you okay, hermano?” KJ asked. Manolo winced. That was the first time KJ had used a Spanish word correctly. ‘Would you order me another tequila? ¡Tengo que mear!’ Manolo looked after his friend. He had never drunk tequila before. KJ was also a feast for the eyes from behind. The torn jeans clung to his firm ass. His shoulders were broad. He was muscular. But not exaggerated. And his patriotic tattoos emphasized his masculinity. Manolo waved at the waitress and ordered two tequilas. He didn't usually drink. But maybe he could stand KJ better today if he was a little drunk.

The tequila arrived before KJ. And when KJ sat down, Manolo was playing with his cell phone. KJ took his tequila glass. “A nuestra salud y amistad, hermano” “A nuestra salud y amistad, KJ” Manolo replied distractedly, picked up the glass and was about to toast. He was frozen for a few seconds. What the hell had happened to Kyle? The smooth cheeks were covered by a hint of a beard. His tattoos had expanded. And now they had a lot more space too. Because KJ's muscles had almost exploded. His slender neck, with the Adam's apple whose movements always made Manolo so horny, had become a bull's neck tattooed all over. “Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost,” KJ said. His English had a slight Spanish accent. And there was a tear tattooed under his one eye. Manolo ordered two more tequilas… Their conversation turned into Spanglish gibberish. And at some point into Spanish. KJ got terribly worked up about the gringos. In doing so, he accidentally knocked his trucker cap off his head. He picked up a bandana and tied it around his head. KJ's gaze became somehow different. While they were talking, he played with his nipples more and more. He looked at Manolo more intensely. Somehow… lustfully? “Tengo que ir al baño otra vez. ¿Y no te gustaría venir conmigo?” KJ stood up. He was a muscleman. His tight-fitting tank top emphasized his muscles even more. With every twitch of the muscles, the tattoos moved, creating a real cartoon. His ass looked phenomenal in the pleated pants. If Manolo had to create a wank fantasy, this is what it would look like. And now the wank fantasy was telling him to follow him to the restrooms. Damn it! KJ looked like a real cholo. And he was a square college student in khakis and a button-down. Manolo hesitated for a moment. And then he followed KJ. KJ? Why “KJ”? I have no idea when the nickname developed. César Jesus should have been called CJ. But some stupid gringo hadn't understood that in elementary school. And so he had eventually become KJ. And the nickname stuck.

KJ was standing at the urinal. Manolo could see from behind that he was about to jerk off. Even though they had known each other since childhood, he had never seen KJ's cock. KJ's father had the typical conglomerate that enterprising wetbacks build. He had a few trucks that he used to transport goods or help with removals, he owned a few cafes, a laundry… And KJ was supposed to take over this small local empire at some point. His parents had always hoped that the friendship with the clever and ambitious Manolo would have a positive effect on KJ. But KJ had always been the type to hang out with the bad boys. And who could blame him? He looked just as brutal and manly as his father.

Manolo stood next to César at the urinal. César pretended not to notice Manolo. His tattooed hand jerked his cock, which was also covered in tattoos. It was a monster that offered almost as much surface area for artistic decoration as Manolo's thin forearm. César pushed up his tank top with his other hand, revealing his granite abs and finally his nipples. He played with his right nipple with his left hand. And Manolo, whose cock was almost as hard as César's muscles, couldn't help but suck on the left nipple. “Siempre supe que detrás de la fachada de empollón se escondía una zorrita,” César moaned. He let go of his nipple and pushed Manolo gently but firmly onto his knees. And Manolo greedily licked the precum from César's gleaming glans. This beast was not the first cock he sucked. But it was the biggest. And its owner was the one he wanted to satisfy more than anyone before. They had been like dissimilar brothers. Now he wanted to be this giant's whore. And César obviously wanted him to be his whore. He enjoyed the blow job and moaned loudly enough to signal to anyone who wanted to use the toilet that it was occupied. Manolo sucked César's cock and jerked his own. Both came almost simultaneously. It was impossible for Manolo to swallow all of César's cum. And his own cum splashed onto his shirt. Exhausted, he fell back. César was breathing heavily, too. “Necesitas una camisa nueva, hermanito,” he said. Manolo certainly couldn't go out like that. César took off Manolo's shirt and wiped his cum-smeared face with it. Then he took off his sweaty tank top. It was a bit difficult because it couldn't be easily pulled over his muscular body. He handed it to Manolo. Of course it was too big. But it felt good. And César would make sure that he would fill it out better soon. Today two men became real cholos.

Pics by @ki-kink

[bullet-prooflove]

Doing Something: Carmen Berzatto x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 '@wabi-sabi1090 @lostinwonderland314 @turtle-cant-communicate @fallout-girl219

Companion Piece to:

The Farm - Carmy recalls the day you met.

Pears - It starts when Carmy makes an order he doesn't remember.

Mornings - Carmy sleeps better with you around.

Bubble - You have no idea that you saved Carmy's life.

Crazy, Stupid, Fucked Up World (NSFW) - Carmy tells you he lvoes you for the first time.

It’s the little things you do that Carmy falls in love with. The humorous texts throughout a long day, those light reassuring touches, the way you look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours when you think he’s not watching.

He doesn’t deserve you but that doesn’t stop him wanting to and he knows there’s only one way to do that. He needs to get healthy, to address the demons that scratch at his mind.

That’s how he ends up in therapy talking about the shit he never talks about because he knows if he keeps it all locked up inside then one day it’ll kill him, the same way it killed Mikey.

“I’ve been doing something.” He tells you one night when he’s cooking for you.

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, updating the farm’s finances on your laptop before the words filter through to your brain and you incline your head towards him.

“Something illegal?” You question because you know about the coke Richie had to sling that time to get them a new compressor. “If you need money…”

“No.” He says, with a tinge of humour in his voice. “The days of cousin doing  little wheeling and dealing in the back alley are far behind us.”

He’s touched that you’d put up the money though, he would never take it from you but he finds it endearing that you offered. You’ve already done enough with the discounts you give him on the produce, he knows you charge him a fraction of what you do the other restaurants in the area.

“OK.” You say as you raise to your feet. Your hands come to rest on his hips as you stand on tiptoes to peek over his shoulder, your body pressing against his back.  “So what have you been doing?”

“Talking to someone.” He tells you, tilting his head so he can read your expression. “Getting help.”

It’s both exhilarating and terrifying being vulnerable with someone else. He knows that you will never judge him for his failings but there’s always this apprehension sitting in his chest.

“And how is that going?” You ask, your arms slipping around his waist, hugging him close.

“Good, I think.” He says as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “I don’t really know yet.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” You ask him and the edges of his mouth tip up into a smile as he whispers.

“You already are.”

Love Carmy? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[wreckedandpolemic]

won’t fuck unless he famous - matty healy

(mdni) in which you're a serial starfucker, and you finally have a chance at the man who tops your wishlist. part of summer75 2024. 3254 words.

warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), titwank, slightly problematic power dynamic

The energy surrounding you is electric as the final note squeals out of the amplifiers, drawn out as the crowd around you cheers wildly. Fireworks pop and fizz against the inky sky, heralding the end of the evening’s entertainment for so many. Yours, though, is just beginning. As you watch the band leave the stage, your eyes are glued to the frontman with a singular goal in mind: getting under him.

Look. You aren’t famous, by any stretch of the word. Notorious is more like it, a careful balance of easy charm and knowing the right people buying you access nearly anywhere you want. Matty Healy, though, is your white whale, having eluded your grip at every turn, a blank spot in your ever-growing red ledger. You’ve wanted him ever since you first laid eyes on him at 16, screaming along to The 1975 in your bedroom, bars you’d snuck into, the front rows of sold-out arenas.

And you can pinpoint the moment it switched from an idealistic, childish fantasy to a question not of I wish, of if, but of when.

The first time you’d flirted and conned your way backstage at a festival, you were barely legal and making the most of your gap year. It hadn’t led to much, a passing fling with some singer whose album and dick were equally forgettable. The lasting impression of that night was the split-second of eye contact you’d made with Matty as you came — you and the guy hadn’t really tried to hide, just slipped around a corner and backed against a wall. You’ve replayed the memory so many times it’s worn smooth, and you don’t know whether you recall his eyes dilating for a fraction of a second before he stumbled away, or if it was a trick of your mind, imprinted and false.

Either way, he’ll be seeing a lot more than just your o-face if you get your way tonight. Squaring your shoulders and pasting on a blithe smile, fluttering your lashes and describing a nondescript (read: nonexistent) friend who’s crew until the security guard relents and lets you back. By now, you’re an expert in acting like you belong, able not to react when you brush shoulders with celebrities. You know just when to stroke an ego, play up your awe without coming off obsessive, and it’s gotten you under men far more famous than your next target.

The grass is worn through under your feet as you wander up to a bar, carefully scanning for his presence as you scoop up your rum and coke and saunter away. A girl you know is their crew catches your eye, one you’ve met before, the last time you failed to catch Matty’s attention. You wave, and she brightens, dashing up to you like you’re old friends. “Sorry!” she hisses in your ear when she flings her arms around you. “I could not shake that guy.” You laugh, tipping your head back like she said something hilarious, and cast your best disgusted glare at the guy, who thankfully takes the hint. “How’d you get back here, anyway?”

You grin. “Well, you know what they say about lying, right?”

“What, it’s the most fun a girl can have without taking her clothes off?”

You lean in. “But it’s better if you do.”

She chuckles, eyes alight with mischief. “Hey, you scratch my back, I scratch yours. You want me to introduce you?” Raising an eyebrow, she nods in answer to the question you haven’t even asked. Your eyes practically bug out of your head, unable to hide your shock.

You’d figured that actually getting to him was going to be the hardest part, but clearly it pays to have friends in high places. Steeling yourself, you let your mask of implacable calm fall over your face and follow the girl (whose name you still don’t remember!) as she strolls up to Matty like it’s the most casual thing in the world. He greets her with a smile and a friendly side hug, then lets his gaze flicker over you. He maintains a skilled poker face; if you weren’t so well-versed in what interest looks like on the faces of men like him, you’d miss it entirely, the brief flare of his nostrils, his tongue flickering out to wet his lips, his hand unconsciously raking through his hair.

You let the moment hang for a second, charged as his lips quirk into a half-smile, then introduce yourself. Matty doesn’t remember you, but he recognises you, immediately catching onto exactly what you want. Good. You like it better this way, when you don’t have to play cat and mouse, act coy while they pretend not to want you. As the conversation rolls on around you, Matty starts literally, actually eye-fucking you, gaze lidded as he imagines all the filthy things he’d like to do to you. When there’s a lull, you seize the moment, dipping into your pocket for your out. “Spliff, anyone?”

The others, predictably, decline, so you and Matty wander off until you’re mostly secluded, lights and music fading into the background as you edge towards the tour buses. “I know who you are,” Matty says as you lift the spliff to your lips.

“Then you know what I want,” you say, smirking. The flame from his lighter illuminates him for a second, shadows pooling under his features as he’s cast in an ethereal, golden glow. You inhale deeply, letting the burn in your lungs pull you away from his distracting beauty. You pass Matty the spliff, smoke curling free from your mouth, his gaze glued to your lips. He’s calculating, formulating a response that will give him back his footing. You interrupt before that can happen. “So, why don’t you tell me what you want? You wanna hear how incredible you were tonight? How incredible you’ve been every time I’ve seen you?”

At that, he seems genuinely surprised. “You’ve seen us before?”

The answer comes before you think it through, impassive facade slipping the longer you spend in his presence. “Yeah. This must be, what, the tenth or eleventh time, now?” Matty’s eyes light up, and you thank God for his ego, that his decisions are already being made by his dick and not his rational brain.

“Thought you were just lookin’ for another name in your little black book. But this is personal, isn’t it?” he breathes, voice thick with smoke. “You want me, don’t you, darling?” He leans close, takes a deep pull and slots his lips over yours.

You breathe in greedily, letting the high overtake you, head going hazy with some intoxicating combination of the weed and his hand sliding into your hair. “Yes.”

Matty groans against your lips, the spliff burning forgotten in his other hand. “S’fucking hot. Girl like you, spendin’ all her time looking for a famous fuck, and the whole time you’re just hoping I’ll look your way, right?”

Heat creeps up your spine, warming your cheeks as arousal starts pooling in your belly. You nod, swallowing thickly “Been tryin’ forever. Think about you every fuckin’ night,” you confess, gasping for it as his lips hover cruelly out of reach.

He grins wickedly, backing away to stamp out the spliff. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about, and I’ll decide if you deserve me, yeah? Needy little groupie.” Your thighs clench involuntarily, desire burning in your blood as you search his expression for anything but sincerity.

“Think about waitin’ on my knees for you when you come off stage, lettin’ you take out all your stress on my throat and swallowing like a good girl.” Matty inhales sharply, pupils blowing wide despite his straight face. “Wished you could fuck me backstage, shove your fingers in my mouth to keep me quiet while you just take what you need from me. Knew you’d change my life,” you add, feeding into his ego a little as his smirk grows wider.

Gripping your hips, Matty pulls you in, eyes liquid with desire as your breathing grows laboured. You stumble, crashing into him as his lips meet yours, his kiss commanding. Arousal drips between your legs and you moan into his mouth, knees buckling when he pulls away to mouth at your jaw. “C’mon, darling. Come let me change your life.” His expression is pure arrogance, a man who knows he’s got you exactly where he wants you, wet and needy and made of pure desperation.

You trail after him as he suddenly turns on his heel and strides away, tugging you by the hand and pulling you in for hot, breathless kisses every few steps. Matty knocks the wind from your lungs, pressing you against the outside of their tour bus, kissing and biting possessively at your neck. “Please,” you whimper, writhing under his touch and widening your legs pathetically.

“I don’t think so,” Matty scoffs. “Already bein’ so greedy, baby, gettin’ the dick you’ve been gaggin’ for for so long. M’gonna take my time with you, okay?” You nod frantically, his clothed cock pressing insistently against your core as you soak your panties. Your head is swimming, dizzy and still a little high and disbelieving that Matty fucking Healy has a hand creeping up your thigh. You don’t say a word, not risking anything that could break the spell surrounding you in this breathless moment. “Get your tits out f’me, yeah?”

Thoughtlessly, you obey, tugging your shirt down off your shoulders so your tits spill free, hissing softly at the cold air kissing over your bare skin. Matty groans appreciatively, taking a greedy handful and squeezing hard, a low moan falling from your lips. “You like ‘em?” you murmur, arching up into his touch. “Could fuck ‘em, if you want. S’long as you cum on my face.” His jaw goes slightly slack, suddenly picturing your face painted white and growing impossibly harder against your thigh.

In an instant, your dress is shoved up around your waist and Matty’s tugging your panties down, motioning for you to step out of them when they hit the floor. He tucks them into his pocket with a wicked smirk. “For safekeeping,” he says, kissing his way down your chest until his lips wrap around your nipple. A bolt of arousal strikes in your core at the scrape of his teeth against your sensitive skin, pain flashing under your skin for a second before he soothes you with his tongue. “Such pretty tits, darling. Gonna let me fuck them after I eat you, yeah?”

“Anything you want,” you whine, sliding your hand into his hair to push him back down as he starts to pull away. “Mark me,” you plead. “Please. I need to know this wasn’t a dream when I wake up tomorrow.” You feel Matty smirk against your skin, throwing your head back to allow him access to your neck. He bites a trail of bruises down your neck, collar, over your tits, patches of sore, red skin blooming gloriously under his touch. When Matty drops to his knees, you feel shockingly exposed without his body covering yours, your dress pulled down below your tits and up above your waist so your dripping cunt is bared to the cool night air. Matty’s nails dig into your thighs, pulling your legs further apart so he can slot himself neatly between them.

Your stomach clenches in anticipation. “So fuckin’ wet, baby. D’you get this soaked for everyone before they even touch you, or are you just a little slut for me?” he murmurs, licking a broad, flat stripe across your cunt.  Vision practically whiting out, your answer dies on your tongue, a helpless whine of his name spilling free instead. “C’mon, baby, answer me. Can’t be so dumb already, I’ve hardly touched you,” Matty scoffs, the condescension dripping hot and sticky down your spine.

“Only f’you,” you gasp out. “Fuckin’ dreamed about this, I– oh, fuck,” you moan, his tongue working over your clit in quick, tight circles. You grind down against his mouth, pressure mounting in your belly. You’re on a hair trigger, you can tell, the barest touches already pulling you close. It’s near-Pavlovian, the realisation of all your fantasies exhilarating. Cunt clenching as he tongue-fucks you languidly, you bury one hand in his hair as the other scrambles for purchase against cool metal.

“Close already, aren’t you? So fuckin’ desperate,” Matty croons, fingers coming up to toy with your swollen clit. You buck your hips against his hand, whimpering and pleading incoherently. He laps greedily at you, moaning softly and tugging at your hips so he can drive his tongue ever deeper. He moans into your cunt, the sound vibrating deliciously through you as you tighten your hand in his curls.

Your eyes fall closed, head thudding against metal when you tip it back with a groan. Ecstasy winds tight in your belly, tugging insistently at you as Matty speeds his motions at your clit, every nerve in your body aflame. “Shit, Matty,” you gasp, tense with the effort of holding back. His nails bite into your thighs, the pain at once sweet and grounding, a blissful anchor amongst the night’s unreality. “Feels s’fucking good, Matty.”

Without warning, he pulls away, and you whine pathetically. The sight of him on his knees with his lips and chin dripping with your arousal is almost too much, your legs going weak as you stare unashamedly, cataloguing every second with careful precision. You’re going to fantasise about this night every day for the rest of your fucking life. “Play with your tits for me, okay, angel?”

The epithet makes you hot all over, shivering under his gaze as you obey mindlessly, grasping and pinching at your tits and letting pleasure run over you. You’re helpless against the tide, head thrashing back and forth as Matty makes out with your hole, moaning into your cunt and circling your clit ever faster. Cunt throbbing, you rock your hips, unconscious of anything but Matty’s hands on you, his fingers against your clit, his curls brushing your stomach, his tongue in your cunt. It’s sloppy, soaked with spit and desire, your entire body unspooling under his touch.

“Matty, m’so close, fuck,” you gasp, your words coming out slurred through sick desire. Your heart is hammering, prey caught in a trap you couldn’t escape from if you wanted to, Matty devouring you as you’re pinned, immobile against the pure ecstasy roaring in your ears. “Oh, my fucking God,” you cry, teetering precariously on the edge.

“You gonna cum, darling? Gonna fuckin’ soak me? Go ahead, angel, cum f’me,” Matty murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Your knees buckle, your orgasm crashing over you so hard you practically fall out of your body, pure pleasure wiping your mind clean. You can feel it in every inch of your body, your every nerve alive with it, hot and sweet and seemingly neverending. Moaning helplessly, you start to sway on your feet, head swimming in ecstasy that’s making you dizzy and dumb. Matty’s hands are steadying at your waist, electricity jumping from everywhere his skin touches yours.

His lips and chin are fucking soaked, glistening with your arousal, visceral evidence of what you’ve just done. You lick into his mouth greedily when he kisses you, something illicit thrilling in your veins as your bare tits press against the leather of his jacket, the zipper cool against your heated skin. The contrast of him still being fully-clothed while you’re exposed makes you shiver from something entirely separate from cold. Matty steps back, eyes glued to your tits as a smirk stretches across his slick lips. “My eyes are up here,” you scoff.

“Yeah, and your tits are down here.” You can’t find it in yourself to feel shame at the rush of arousal that sweeps over you at his words.

You grab one of your tits, kneading it gratuitously and thumbing over your nipple. “Still wanna fuck ‘em?” His eyes blow wide, shooting you a look that says what kind of question is that? and fumbling to let you into the tour bus. You scramble breathlessly after him, letting him push you down onto a bed and desperately shoving his jacket off his shoulders. He tugs his shirt off, and you drink in the sight of him shirtless from up close, sweat glistening on his toned chest.

There’s a visible wet spot on his boxers when he strips out of his jeans, you notice with a bolt of pride-tinged arousal, your mouth watering as his cock springs free, thudding stickily against his belly. “Shit, got me so fuckin’ hard, angel. Gonna let me fuck those pretty tits, let me cum all over your face?” Matty kneels over you, slowly stroking his dripping cock as he watches your chest heave.

“Please,” you breathe, gazing up at him as he leans down to spit on your tits, the slick, messy slide sending a pulse of heat between your legs. His lips part around a guttural moan as he slides between your tits, thrusting shallowly and groaning out soft praises. You drop your jaw, sticking out your tongue to lick over his head, the salt taste of him intoxicating.

Precum and spit smear across your chest, rhythmic moans filling the tiny, cramped space as Matty fucks your tits. “Doin’ so good, baby. Like a little fuckin’ sex toy f’me, such a good girl. Y’look so pretty, baby,” he coos, your entire body flushing under his affections. You kitten-lick over his head every time he thrusts, his answering moans heating your core, arousal dripping from your cunt. “Such a little cumslut, angel.”

“Mhmm,” you moan, arching your back and pinching a nipple, dizzy with desire. “M’your cumslut, Matty.” His pace speeds, sloppy as he drools precum over your chest and against your tongue. You lap it up eagerly, drunk on him. Pure lust is written across Matty’s face, jaw slack as he watches himself disappear between your tits, awed.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Matty gasps, his cheeks hot and lips wet with drool. “M’getting close, angel. Where do you want me?”

“On my face,” you breathe, the words coming without you even having to think. “In my mouth, please.” With what looks like a monumental effort, he climbs off you, fisting his cock gracelessly. Eagerly, you watch him fuck his fist, jaw hanging open expectantly. With a low moan of your name, Matty spills across your face, ropes of cum splashing hot against your cheeks and on your waiting tongue.

Closing your eyes, you swallow deliberately, moaning at the taste of him and smiling beatifically. “Good girl,” he grins, panting slightly and watching you fondly. “You need anything? Want me to get you cleaned up?” God, you don’t know if you can take him being all sweet with you on top of it all. You’re going to do something embarrassing like beg for his number if you don’t change the mood, and quickly.

“What, you only good for one round, or somethin’? Getting too old to show your groupies a proper fuck?” you taunt.

The glint in Matty’s eye turns dangerous, and you gulp. “Greedy girl’s not satisfied with my cum all over her face, s’that it? You want more?” You murmur out an affirmative, anticipation tense in your belly. “My little cockslut,” he smirks, climbing over you and caging you in with his arms around your head. “Don’t worry, baby. M’gonna give you what you need.”

[makeitmingi]

Stay In This Dream

Genre: Romance, Angst, Melancholy

Pairing: Wooyoung x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Normal!Reader, Badboy!Wooyoung

Summary: You know he's bad for you, he knows he's bad for you. But for some reason, you're both constantly drawn to each other. In a crazy world, you and him are forever, you don't need to save each other from reality. All you want to do is stay in this dream with him.

Word count: 4.3K

Story warning(s): Toxic relationship(? Not really, idk?), possessive Wooyoung, clubbing, smoking, swearing, alcohol, alcohol consumption, Ateez is a delinquent group. Minors DNI. Please read at your own discretion.

The music was booming loudly as you entered the club. You gulped, letting out a shaky breath before walking further in. Before joining the dancing bodies on the dance floor, you went to the bar to get a drink. Some liquid confidence will loosen you up.

"What can I get you?" The bartender asked as you leaned against the bar counter.

"Rum and coke, three wedges of lime." You ordered your usual before sliding onto an available bar stool. With a kind smile, the bartender set down your drink on a serviette.

"Thanks." You bowed your head and he nodded back before going to serve other customers.

"I guess it's good to be home, Seoul." You smiled bitterly before lifting your glass to take a sip. A sigh escaped you as you put the glass down.

Looking to the side, you saw all the mingling people, women and men getting to know each other, having the time of their lives. Or maybe just trying to get laid.

Who were you kidding? This wasn't your scene, it never was. It was time for you to leave.

"Hey." Someone came up to you, his voice making you stiffen.

"I-I was just leaving." You said quickly as you looked away from him, lifting your drink to finish it. But he gently curled his fingers around your wrist to stop you from downing the rest of your drink. He made you put your glass down and wrapped his arms around you to hug you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Welcome back." He whispered.

"San..." You didn't know what to say to him and you couldn't hug him back. Even in the loud club, he was so close that you could hear his words. The way he hushed you to comfort you.

"When did you come back?" He asked as he pulled away. His face was calm, no sign of anger or upset.

"Yesterday." You gulped. He nodded, you were worried about what he was going to say or ask next. But all he did was pat your head and walk away.

"San, don't-" You called out to him but he was long gone, disappearing into the crowd. You looked at your drink, the bitterness that filled your mouth suddenly making it was unappealing.

"Hi, can I buy you a drink?" Now this was someone unfamiliar. You were never good with strangers, really.

"Are you here alone?" The male probed further.

"Yeah. But I buy my own drinks. I'm was gonna finish this up and leave." You said, grabbing your glass by the rim to swirl it, letting the diluted layer of melted ice mix into the rest of the drink. No one ever dared to really buy you drinks or flirt with you.

"Aww, come on... Okay, you know what? At least drink with me?" He tilted his head with a smile. His smile was charming, you would probably be swooned if you were preoccupied.

"Can you close me out?" You raised a hand to the bartender, who nodded from his end of the bar.

"Seriously, what's the rush?" He blinked.

"Take a hint and leave. Don't be to pushy, it's ugly." You froze at the new voice that entered the conversation. Your stomach churned uncomfortably and the heaviness settled in your chest.

"What? Who are you? I was here first, man." The man frowned unhappily.

"She's with me. What? You wanna take this outside?"

"Woo! Don't!" You blurted out, finding your voice again amongst the panic. Rolling his eyes with a scoff, the man walked away, you were obviously not worth fighting over.

"Tsk, coward... Close her out. Rum and coke with 3 lime wedges but put it on my tab." He told the bartender, who nodded and began making you a new drink. You couldn't even protest as he took the now available seat beside you. You waited for the bartender to put your drink down and walk away.

"You remember..." He raised an eyebrow, of course he remembered, he was always observant and remembered everything about you.

"I didn't want San to tell you." You chewed on your bottom lip.

"You really think I wouldn't have noticed you the moment you entered the place? San was just nosy and didn't know if it was really you. But I knew, I always know." He said.

"Woo, I-"

"Don't say you didn't come here to see me. You came here because you knew I would be here." He knew what you were going to say.

"Well, maybe I came here to get a partner for the night." You challenged, clenching the material of your skirt in your fist. Wooyoung turned to you, a deep frown at your words.

"You know I would never let that happen." He growled. That was Wooyoung, he was always possessive.

"Wooyoung, we're not even together anymore..." You lamented. He refused to answer that. But gosh, he looked good. His side profile as he drank his drink, he still looked so handsome. It made your heart clench as you forced yourself to tear your eyes away.

"And whose fault is that?" He finally replied. Although, the grim look on his face showed just how much he hated saying that. But Wooyoung was only ever truly open about his feelings with you.

Jung Wooyoung, the bad boy from high school. Him, along with his best friend, Choi San, were captains of the baseball team. Because that was the only thing he cared about.

And you. You were the only other thing Wooyoung cared about and loved. Nothing else.

You loved Wooyoung too, a lot. You never expected it but the bad boy tole your heart and showed you what love is.

However, you knew your relationship was just a fever dream that wouldn't last. The bubble of happiness that you and Wooyoung were in was not forever.

You wanted to do well in school and go to college to get a degree. Wooyoung didn't, if it weren't to stay with you and accompany you, he would have quit school a long time ago. He didn't have a plan, he wouldn't be there, sitting for college placement exams with you, he won't go be by your side to go to college with you.

But when an amazing overseas scholarship offer came in your mail, you knew you couldn't turn that down.

At first, the guilt ate at you, your future and love with Wooyoung should be the priority. But between him and his friends getting in trouble, the fighting, the street racing, you couldn't take it.

So, as you sat at the hospital waiting area, waiting for the doctor to stitch Wooyoung up again, you knew this wasn't the life for you.

3 days later, you ended the relationship with Wooyoung. And 4 days after that, you left for America.

"It wasn't my fault, Wooyoung..." You sighed, your bottom lip quivering. Was it really? You just wanted to do something for yourself, for once.

"I wasn't the one who packed up and left for 3 years." He said sourly, flicking the cap of his zippo open and close.

"It wasn't easy on me either. Not knowing if whether you would come home alive or dead. Having to bail you out of jail or wait for you at the hospital while doctors stitched you up." You winced as you remembered all the memories.

"Fine, I'm sorry I didn't have a plan to go to a cushy college like you. But I would never have abandoned you." He clenched his jaw.

"I didn't abandon you, Wooyoung." You replied. Honestly, you didn't know if you were convincing yourself or him.

"Oh yeah, you didn't. You just decided to pack your things, go to another country for 3 years without ever mentioning it to me." He said sarcastically.

"I did mention it to you." You mumbled.

"Yeah, when you broke up with me. And told me you're leaving in 4 days... Thanks for the heads up." He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't... I don't want to discuss this now." You said, looking away. Regret sunk in your heart.

"Then what do you want to discuss? Why did you come here?" Wooyoung placed his empty glass down and turned to face you. He's right, why did you come here? Why did a part of you hope to run into him? Just to see him again.

"You're right. This was a mistake." You got up to leave but Wooyoung grasped your wrist. Just as you were about to protest, Wooyoung dragged you to the dance floor.

"No, I'm not letting you walk away again." He made you put your arms around his neck as his hands landed on your waist.

"Like old times, hmm?" He pulled you close to him, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

"I shouldn't be here." You said softly. You didn't know if you were saying that to yourself or to Wooyoung.

"And yet, you're still holding onto me." You knew he had that signature smug smirk on his face as he said that to you. In fact, your hold tightened around him, as if you were scared of him leaving.

You closed your eyes, this used to be your life with Wooyoung. Coming to the club, drinking, dancing, having the time of your lives. How bad boy Wooyoung ruined you.

"Wooyoung..." You whimpered. Wooyoung finally pulled away from the hugging hold to look at you. It was dim but he could see you faintly under the club's lights. As you closed your eyes, he was quick to wipe away the tears that fell. He held your cheek tenderly and kissed your forehead.

"Let's go." Holding your hand, instead of grasping it like earlier, he led you out of the club through the back door. You just followed him without a word. He guided you through the alley.

"Come here." He hugged you, guiding your head to his chest. You buried your face in his chest.

"It's okay, baby." His hand stroked the back of your head.

"You're home. That's all that matters, you're back here with me." You didn't know if his reminder was meant to bring you relief or more hurt, knowing that this isn't right.

That familiarity made your heart soar, it was what you longed for for 3 years. His warmth, his scent, his voice.

"I love you, I'll never let you go again." He kissed your head.

You closed your eyes, even if this was only temporary, even if this was only a dream, you didn't want it to end. This was why you came here the moment you came back to Seoul.

As you laid down to rest in his bed, fast asleep, Wooyoung pulled the blanket up to make sure you were comfortable. You were so deep in your slumber you weren't affected by him moving. You were dressed in his shirt and your underwear. It's like you never left.

"I love you." He kissed your temple and left the room, closing the door behind him. Wooyoung shuffled over to the balcony, sliding open the glass door.

Leaning his forearms on the banister, he lit a cigarette and stared out into the night sky that blanketed the city.

"Need a drink?" San offered with his head poked out, holding out a glass of rum.

"Thanks. I just need to clear my head for a bit." Wooyoung recevied the glass and took a sip, setting it down on the small table as he continued his cigarette.

"(y/n)?"

"She's sleeping in my bed so don't be too loud. You know she's a light sleeper." Wooyoung cautioned.

"Will do." San saluted and headed in for the night. He was used to you sleeping over. Even when you and him were dating, San and Wooyoung lived together. That's why Wooyoung was always over at your house. He had clothes and other personal effects there. It was like he practically moved in with you.

Did he ever think that you would be lying in his bed 3 years later? At some point, yes. A part of him held onto the hope that you would return to Seoul, return to him.

That hope vanished when Wooyoung went to America to find you. He had asked a friend where you were before he flew there.

But Wooyoung saw you so happy, being amongst your new friends, discussing things with your professor.

You had a bright future ahead of you while Wooyoung's was bleak. Who was he to rob you of that? If he loved you, he knew he had to let you go.

Wooyoung flew back before you even knew he was there. He tried to push you to the back of his mind and continue on with life.

But he should have known that the universe will take him for a spin. Because there you were tonight, entering the club, looking as beautiful as ever, going up to the bar for a drink.

You were always insecure about sticking out like a sore thumb, whether it was the clubs, the illegal race tracks or the fighting ring. But to Wooyoung, that just made him love you more. You weren't just another face in the crowd.

Whenever Wooyoung looked at you, he smiled. You lit up the room, you were kind and friendly to everyone you met.

You were different from him. He, San and his friends, ATEEZ, ruled the school (and now the streets) with violence, he always had his bat resting on his shoulder, sending threats to those who stare for too long.

"God..." Wooyoung let out a sigh of frustration, leaning on the heels of his palms.

He loves you so much that it hurts. Even though he knows you're better off without him, he doesn't want to let you go. You belong with him.

"Tsk." Crushing his cigarette, Wooyoung downed the rest of his rum and headed back into house. As he crossed his living room, he looked at his steel bat that rested in the corner.

Wooyoung closed his eyes, his focus was you now. He shook his head and went to the room.

"Don't leave me again. I'll protect you, I promise. I'll give you anything you want." Wooyoung gathered you in his arms, holding you close to him like his life depended on it. He knew if you were awake, you would push him away. When you were together, you always hated when he came to bed smelling like cigarettes and alcohol.

"Just let me be selfish." He pressed his lips to your head and closed his eyes. If he was imagining this and it was all just a hallucinating dream, Wooyoung didn't want to wake up.

When you woke up, Wooyoung was sound asleep, facing you with his arm slung over your waist.

A part of you still believed this to be a dream. You reached over to rest your hand on his cheek, making him snuggle into his pillow.

You didn't deserve this, anyone would tell you that.

You didn't deserve to live in fear and dread that Wooyoung would be dead one day. But at the same time, you also didn't deserve the kindness and love Wooyoung gave you when you were the one that left.

It made you sick to your stomach, the way you were acting. Wooyoung didn't deserve to be treated like that. What were you thinking? Running back here.

Slipping out of bed, you reached for a pair of Wooyoung's sweat shorts that he left on the chair. You slipped it on, tying the string around your waist. It's too cruel for you to leave him again, especially while he sleeps. But you needed to remove yourself for now.

"Hey, (y/n)." San greeted when you tip toed out of Wooyoung's room.

"Hey, San..." You greeted warily, standing by Wooyoung's bedroom door. What was he going to say to you? Was he going to berate you for what you did/ are doing to his best friend?

"I'm headed out for the day. I left breakfast on the table for you and Woo, when he wakes up." He said, picking his jacket up to wear.

"Sure, thank you." You nodded, walking down the hall to where he was.

"There's coffee in the fridge too. Help yourself." He informed as he jogged to his room to gather what he needed. You heard the jingling of his keys.

"Hey, (y/n)?" San called out to you just as he was about to step out of the house. You hummed, turning to look at him.

"Talk to him, please. I'm not forcing you to stay, I understand why you left but... Please don't leave without talking to him first." He said. You chewed on your bottom lip but nodded your head. Even if he said understood, his words made you feel like the bad guy. You probably were but it hurt for it to be vocalised.

"You want a cigarette to relax?" He offered, about to reach into his pocket to grab his pack.

"No, thanks. I quit smoking..." You smiled awkwardly. San almost seemed content and proud by your words as he nodded.

"Bye, San." You wished. He smiled and came over to give you brief hug before leaving the house. Maybe that's why San is leaving, to give you space and privacy to talk to Wooyoung.

As you waited for Wooyoung to wake up, you sat in their apartment balcony, wanting some fresh air. You noticed that Wooyoung left his zippo on the table.

*clink*

You flicked open the cap then closed it. Wooyoung always did this when he was nervous or deep in thought.

It became a habit that you picked up too. That and other habits like smoking. But when you did, it was a social thing. You never smoked unless you were around Wooyoung and his friends. How long you were sitting there, you didn't know.

"Hey." Wooyoung shuffled out onto the balcony, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his lips.

"There it is." He naturally leaned down and almost mechanical, you used his zippo to light the cigarette for him. Before he took a puff, he held the lit cigarette between his fingers, away for you.

"You're still here." He brushed your hair back with his free hand. You nodded your head and he smiled, giving you a peck.

"Do you want eat? San left us food but I just grabbed coffee..." You asked.

"Still the same. I'll eat in a bit." He sat on the chair instead of next to you on the bench. You both always had coffee before anything else, a bad habit. Wooyoung pulled the cigarette away again.

"Want to share?" He offered, just like old times.

"I quit..." You mumbled. He nodded with a hum, making sure to blow the smoke out in the other direction.

With a soft sigh, Wooyoung puts out his cigarette. He came to sit next to you on the bench, putting an arm around you. Again, another almost natural reaction, you lean into him, tucking yourself under his arm. Your cheek pressed against his pec as he held you. You did this with him regularly.

Sitting out here, watching the city go by, watching the sun set and the sun rise again, enjoying ths bliss of your little bubble. Until the weight of reality popped it.

Dread sunk in your stomach, you needed to talk to Wooyoung but what about? You didn't have time to think this through.

"So, what degree did you decide to pursue?" He broke the silence first. He woke up from the dream first.

"International relations." You replied, fiddling with the stray thread at the end of his sweater. It was the only thing that kept your mind focused on Wooyoung's words.

"Did you like it there?" He asked with a gulp.

"It was fine." You didn't really give a yes or no answer because you didn't know.

Your life in America was so different. You were able to dedicate yourselves to your studies, earning your degree and subsequently becoming valedictorian. That allowed you to form good connections and networks. The only thing missing was Wooyoung.

"Would you have stayed there?" At your question, you pulled away. This was him waking you up from the dream too. Wooyoung watched as you stood up and headed to the banister.

"Wooyoung, it wasn't easy to leave you. I swear. I know I'm selfish but for once, I needed to think about myself and my future." You said.

"A future without me in it?" At his question, you swallowed. That lump in your throat was back.

"Woo, with the way things were going, even if we stayed together, I wasn't sure whether you would still be in it." You turned to look at him, tears swimming in your eyes.

"I had to save myself the grief before it actually came through a phone call. It would be too much..." You whispered.

"But I'm still alive and kicking." Wooyoung argued.

"For how much longer? Mingi was almost paralysed, Jongho was in a coma for 4 months, I wasn't going to stick around and wait for any of that to happen to you. I couldn't..." Your bottom lip quivered in fear.

"You know I wouldn't be careless like that. Damn it. I love you, I still do. You know I'll always come home to you." Wooyoung grimaced. Your words cut deep into Wooyoung, he knew the truth was that he drove you away with how he was acting. With the way he lived, he couldn't save you from the fear and worry.

"I know you love me too, that's why you went to the club the moment you arrived in Seoul. To find me. And don't deny that." He stood up.

"I thought I could move on and build a life for myself, start anew. But who am I kidding? I can't do it." You laughed bitterly.

"There were so many times I wanted to leave America and come back home. Come back to you. You were my home." You revealed. Wooyoung's heart was racing as he heard your words.

"Why didn't you? I was waiting for you. I am still your home." He asked.

"Because I knew I didn't deserve to miss you when I was the one who left. What right did I have? And what if you moved on? I don't think I could bear to see that." You shook your head. For 3 years, you hated yourself for missing him.

"No, I would never. Because we both know you belong with me and me only." Wooyoung insisted with a frown.

"I-I don't know if I can live like this again, Woo." You hugged yourself. Now it really sunk in, you felt so lonely and that was the reality that you have to wake up to.

"I want to let you go because I know you're better off out there but fuck, I can't. I can't, I'm sorry. I need you with me." He held your cheeks with his hands, pressing your forehead against him.

"Our lives are just too different. Sometimes, even love cannot conquer that." You shook your head.

"Don't say that. Don't. I refuse to believe any of that bullshit." Wooyoung denied.

"You'll carry on with your life and I'll carry on with mine. A part of love is worrying about each other. We'll always do that." He said, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

Wooyoung loved you but he loved ATEEZ too, he couldn't just leave his friends who have support him. They were delinquents to everyone else but to Wooyoung, they were his family too.

Again, it was selfish of him, he knew that.

"But..." You grew hesitant, almost scared at the thought of going through all that again.

"We'll work this out, I promise. But whatever it is, I'm not letting you leave me again. You're mine. I lost you once, I'm never losing you again. We'll get through this." Wooyoung said with determination. You nodded and leaned forward to hug him, pressing your lips against his. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

"I love you, Woo. I'm so sorry." You cried. How was he so understanding and patient? But if Wooyoung could work through this, you knew you could too.

"Shh, my baby. No more 'sorry's. I still love you and forever will." He held you, stroking your head.

After breakfast, you and Wooyoung decided to just stay in bed to quietly spend time with one another, all the time lost. He grabbed your leg to throw it over his waist so he could hold you close.

"Still so beautiful." He smiled cheekily.

"Stop~" You whined, hiding your face in his chest. He laughed loudly, that also didn't change, his laugh was so distinguishable that his friends always made fun of it.

"I still love your laugh." You giggled, making him roll his eyes, unsure if you were teasing him or not.

"Seonghwa hyung still imitates me." He scoffed.

"It's cute." You pinched his cheek.

As he cradled you and you bunched the material of his shirt in your hands, it sunk in that you were here, lying in bed with Wooyoung, holding him and touching him. You felt whole again and there was a happiness you haven't felt in 3 years.

Was your love for Wooyoung able to convince you to go back to the way things were? You didn't know. But that worry and the many others can be left for tomorrow.

Wooyoung will be with you, you'll overcome it together. You wanted to enjoy what you had with him now. You didn't want it to disappear.

If this was a dream, you knew you never wanted to wake up.

~

Masterlist

[leeofthevoid]

I do not have a Crush

Jann Mardenborough (Movie) x Reader

a/n: Hello guys. I am alive, so please don't be mad about being MIA. School is hectic but finals are almost over. Rich World will continue but will change the title soon. (Yay!) This one is for the Jann girlies!

word count: 2673

warnings: Strong language

Part One

You sat next to Jann as he looked longingly at Audrey, who was chuckling with his younger brother, Coby, and his friends. 

“If you stare long enough, she might just melt.” You sarcastically remarked as you sat beside him, a beer in your hand. Jann rolled his eyes, looked down at his Diet Coke can, and sighed. “Any reason you’re bugging me and not Coby?” 

“No reason. I just wanted some fresh air, and this is my spot, the last time I remembered.” You leaned on the railing, stretching your back as you looked at the friends laughing. “You should shoot your shot. Audrey likes tall guys the last time I remembered.” 

Another dismissive sigh was heard from his area while playing with the can, which he barely touched. “You know that your advice won’t make a difference, right? I heard you had a thing for Corey, yet you still haven’t made moves.” He looked at you with a victorious smirk. A moment passed until the words finally settled in your mind, and retaliated with violence by smacking him on the arm. “Oh fuck off, I was helping you.” He busted out laughing while you walked away to go back to the group. 

That’s how it usually goes when you try to be friendly with Jann. He was always the hopeless romantic, yet he always had a knack for annoying you when it’s just you two. 

The next time you saw him was by the department store. You and Coby had the same schedule that day, and he wanted to go to where Jann works to assert some younger brother dominance thing that you would never understand. You saw Jann’s tall frame putting back women’s clothes as Coby called him over a few aisles down. 

“Jann! Come here!” The loud calls did not go unnoticed by anyone in the store, embarrassing him enough to run to you two and pull you aside quickly. “What is wrong with you, man? I’m at work!” He glared at his brother and hit him on the shoulder. Coby laughed and pulled you in front as a human shield.

“Relax, I just brought her here to shop for some lady stuff. Said she had a date to go to that needed some hot undie set.” You raised your eyebrows in confusion while shaking your head. 

“What? No way? I came here because you said you will mghdnfdg…” Coby clasped a hand on your mouth, muffling your comebacks while he pushed you off to Jann, who caught you and ran away.

“That asshole! What was he up to?” Jann slowly let you go while you balanced yourself, silently thanking him. He sighed and cleared his throat. “Whatever it was, it’s his stupidity catching up to him.” 

You also sighed, having no idea what to do now that Coby left you to fend for yourself. Jann scratched the back of his neck and checked his watch. “Hey, if you’re not busy, maybe ditch buying that ‘set’ and grab lunch with me? I’m done for the day anyways.” 

Your stomach was growling, and you barely got to eat something before coming here, so lunch sounded terrific. “You’re right. I’m starving. I’m craving some sandwiches, so take me somewhere with that, and I’ll pay for our lunch.” He chuckled and walked to his co-worker, probably saying something about leaving now, to which the other guy nodded. 

He turned back with a smile as he removed his vest and threw his arm around your shoulder, dragging you out of the store and to a sandwich place nearby. “Her Highness needs her food!” You rolled your eyes before walking to the counter and ordering your food.

He was such a bastard when it came to food, but he made it up to you by bringing him to where he played that racing game he was so obsessed with. He told you it was called ‘Gran Turismo,’ but you insisted it was a racing game just like every other you’ve come across. It was fun to piss him off, even if he didn’t. 

“Go wider!”

“But there’s a line! That’s the point of the game: you follow the line!” You grip the wheel of the console and glared at Jann. “No, the point of the game is to win.” Jann puts his hands on yours and takes a wider stance on the wheel instead of following the line. You hated his weird obsession with whin, but it was his fault for making you play a game. You heard Dylan call your name from behind while patting your head. “Thanks for going today, love. Seeing Jann so frustrated is such a treat.” He chuckled as he watched the screen of the console. 

The car effectively passed by the others and eventually got to fourth place, but at this point, it was all Jann. He even scooted you over to sit next to you. Brows creased in focus while his hands gripped tighter on yours. You watched the screen as he maneuvered past third place and second. Dylan and some other people gathered around as you two played the game, a sight you were new to. He was always the withdrawn type, but his apparent obsession with this game gained him a small fanbase in this arcade.

Jann held on, his palms sweating while turning and tailing the car in the first place. He hastily turned the wheel and accelerated, making your car and the first placer side by side before he stepped on the gas and made it to first place. The crowd around you cheered while you felt the shoot of adrenaline finally settle in you as Jann fought to keep his spot in first place. 

“Woooh!” You happily screamed out as you saw the finish line. “Jann, don’t you dare lose!” You hear him chuckle as he nods and steps on the gas while the car approaches the finish line. The crowd shushes, and you only hear your heart beating as the time slows. The next thing you know, you saw the car cross the checkered finish line, and the big letters “First Place” flashed. 

Everyone cheered as you both jumped up from the seat, screaming and jumping at him. “Oh my gosh, you’re amazing!” He caught you and gave you a tight hug before setting you down. 

“I mean…You did help so…” You shoved him off and rolled your eyes as a friend of Jann’s came over. 

“Holy shit, bruv, you did it again!” He looked at you and then smirked, “Is this Miss Audrey with us right now?” He offered his hand to you while you took it, giggling. 

“No way, I’m far from Audrey. She’s prettier and dresses simpler. I’m more of Coby’s eccentric best friend, who he ditched.” You took his hand and shook it lightly before sliding it away. 

“My name’s Bryan. And you mentioned being ditched? A pretty thing like you?”

You giggled softly and playfully rolled your eyes.“Y/N. And Jann should totally bring Audrey next time, no?” Bryan poked the boy behind you while he teased Jann about his very obvious crush on Audrey.

The rest of the day went swimmingly when Bryan and Jann offered to drop you off at your flat, getting Bryan’s number saved in the process. Such a flirt, that one. Who would have expected that Jann’s friends weren’t all weird geeks? 

After a few weeks or a day, before Jann got the good news, he was lying on his bed contemplating the trajectory of his life. 

He knew that he had no solid plan for his future, but he was sure it had some good things in it. Driving was his passion, and it was a big deal for him to be somewhat of a driver. He may not have driven any of the real cars in GT, but he knew all of them inside and out. It was meant for him. 

A few taps on his windows suddenly broke his quiet reverie. He slowly sat up and looked at the window, waiting to see if it was in his head or not. 

It was not. 

After the taps became much more apparent, he stood up and slowly approached the window. When he saw you smiling at him, he quickly opened it and let you in. 

“How the hell did you get up from there?!” Jann let you in before checking outside the window. He looked around to see how you scaled his house and saw no decent ledges you could have used. 

“Jannie! So sorry for being an intruder, but Coby was still not in his room, so…” You chuckled as you rambled. 

“Wait, Coby knows about this?” 

You paused and sat down on his bed, giving him a confused look. “Of course he does. I always swing by his room when I’m either high or drunk and wait for it to sober down.” 

His face twisted in an even more confused and worried way while checking his small snack box for water. He opened it before he gave it to you, sitting beside you. 

“Any reason why you’re dressed up, smelling like alcohol and cigarettes on a Wednesday night?”  You giggled while ungracefully handing him back the water bottle. “It’s a thing with my cousin. You know how it is.” 

“Being used like an ATM machine?” Jann interjected with some sass you never heard from him. 

You scoffed and raised your eyebrows. “Coby probably exaggerated the stories! I just don’t know where to spend my money!” He wasn’t convinced and pushed himself up against the wall, tuning you out, perhaps. 

“Ever since you broke up with your ex, Coby noticed that you’ve been partying a lot. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I get wanting to splurge, but you don’t even do it for yourself.” 

“Says the guy who saves up for his set-up. At least don’t be a hypocrite.” Warranting another eye roll to Jann for being a snoopy ass. “Besides, it’s fun. The party was amazing, and so many people were there.” 

“Spare me the details and sober up so you can go home.” He got up and went to his closet only to toss you a sweater when he closed it. “What?” The confusion and delayed effect of the alcohol and joint were there. 

“You are barely covered up. It’s freezing out there, and you have no layers on.” Jann sat on his gaming chair, a nod of plea to put it on without any resistance. 

After the slow, grueling struggle to put it on, the exhaustion hit you. You slowly slid under the covers of his bed. “Jann, wake me up in a few. I’ll nap. The running here must have tired me.” 

“What? You ran here?!” His question was left unanswered as you dozed off.

Jann sighed and draped the covers over your shoulder while setting up a chill late-night cruise on Gran Turismo with his friends. 

Little moments like those were never really forgotten. You just act like it’s nothing and never talk about hanging out with Jann when you two get the chance. It just happens, really. It's not like you’d ask him using a lame excuse just to talk about stuff or do activities together. His leaving you with the dumbest goodbye didn’t even make you feel empty at all. 

It just felt weird in a way. Coby started to practice more since his brother suddenly got into a rich guy’s sport instantly while he had to work hard. Men and their pride will always amaze you. 

You were lounging on your hotel bed one weekend when you got a call from Jann. You slowly deliberated before answering it because, first of all, it was out of nowhere. And secondly, Why? After three more rings, you had the guts to answer it finally. 

“Hello?”

“Took you too long to answer for someone glued to their phone the whole day, huh.”

You rolled your eyes before hearing a slight chuckle on his end. 

“Hello to you too, Jann.” 

“Hello, you. How have you been?”

How thoughtful of him to ask first. “I’ve been well. Although it is a bit fishy that you go radio silent and suddenly call me out of nowhere after a few months and then suddenly talk to me.”

“Always the skeptic.” He chuckled, then cleared his throat. “So um…A little snitch mentioned that you were in Japan, and I flew Audrey out here to spend some time together. We could use the company?”

Wow. That’s a lot to unpack right there. “Okay, what? You and Audrey are an item now? Since when was this?” He was about to speak when you cut him off. “Second, who the hell told you about me being in Japan? Third, of all…Are you proposing a double date?” 

“Hold on, what? Double date?” You groaned and dropped down to your bed when Jann sounded hell-bent on your new love life. 

“It’s just a date. I’m staying here for two months and might as well make the most of it. Answer my questions, too, though!” 

“Okay. Well. Agree to go meet us at this location tomorrow night, and I’ll tell you everything.” 

“Hm. Fine.” 

The call promptly ended with a goodbye before he sent the location of the place where you’d have your double date at. You wanted to think about it a little. The temptation was strong, though. Feeling homesick and alone can really distort a person’s perception. 

You stared at the recent call logs and sighed. You left the app and opened the chat with Tadashi to tell him that date night is now a double date. 

This was the worst idea ever. Jann has been weird around Tadashi ever since you introduced them to each other. It was awkward and tense for the first few minutes, Jann occasionally raising his eyebrows at you. You four were sitting in front of each other in a really nice sushi place that he was recommended. 

“So…Where did you two meet?” Bless this girl. Audrey will always save the day. “Actually, it’s a funny story.” You rubbed Tadashi’s hand as he snaked his arm over your shoulder. You smiled at him as he did the same. “We met at the fish market when I slipped trying to buy some fresh salmon.” 

“No way! You guys, that's so cute.” Audrey smiled at you in excitement. She’s such a good friend, but at the same time, her excitement might confuse Tadashi about your short-term set-up with him. “She looked offended when I asked her for her number, but I guess that noodle shop recommendation put me in her good books.” The three of you chuckled before Jann interjected, “That doesn’t sound creepy at all.” Audrey widened her eyes and lightly hit his shoulders before apologizing to Tadashi and you. 

The passive aggressiveness did not stop there, though. Throughout the whole dinner, Jann always had some weird bullshit about your life ever since his parents dubbed you their ‘Long lost daughter’. It’s just weird that he was the one who insisted on meeting up with you. 

At one point, Audrey decided to call it a night and even bought you some dessert when you paid the bill. It just upset you that Jann never even said thank you or acknowledged anything whatsoever.

Thankfully, that son of a bitch realized his rudeness two days later and texted you. 

J: Hey 

Y: What? 

J: Was a jerk 2 u 

J: sorry :( 

Y: It’s fine 

Y: Tadashi ghosted me. Your fault 🙄

J: U were too good for him n e ways

Y: Fuck u 

J: in your dreams 😇

Y: Ill block you if you dont stop 

J: was just jokin :( want to watch me practice driving? Audrey left and I have sum time to spare before germany 

Y: You just want me to buy you food 😒

J: nah. I’ll buy u food

Y: K fine. 

Y: Tomorrow? What time? 

J: I’ll pick u up. Send location 😛

a/n: Part 2??? Steamy part 2?? You tell me. :P

[hippolotamus]

"Are you going to be okay?" + Bucktommy

No. No, I am not 😭 Please remember this is an angst prompt and that I love you so, so much 💞

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your smile and the sound of your voice | T | 1.2k

“Are you going to be okay, Buckaroo?” 

Hen taps the neck of her beer against his and nudges his shoulder. 

“Yeah, of course.” He checks his phone again and sees the text he’s been waiting for from Eddie.

Be there in 5

“Yeah,” he says again, brighter and easier. Like he’s suddenly got more room to breathe.

She fondly rolls her eyes, letting him know she’s not buying it but she’s here for him all the same. 

His gut twists with nerves, like he inhaled an entire roll of Mentos and chased it with a two liter of Coke. He’s fine, though. He’s more than likely tachycardic, and he’s sweating like a pig, but he’s good. Honestly. 

Why wouldn’t he be? His family is supporting him through one of the more dramatic moves he’s ever tried to pull off. And he didn’t have to say a word for them to buy into his unhinged plan. They just- did. Albeit with many unvoiced concerns communicated in shared glances and whatever telepathy thing Hen and Chim have going on. Still, they’re here and he’s so, so grateful. He’ll want them to celebrate or if… well, he just needs them either way.

He taps his foot nervously, gripping the karaoke mic tighter and watching the seconds tick by on his watch. And then he sees him. His world stops when Tommy notices him. Their gaze locks across the room like one of those cheesy rom coms that Tommy loves. The kind they’d watch on the couch, or in bed together on a lazy afternoon. Buck wishes it was actually one of those meet cute moments where the main characters have a love at first sight experience. 

Instead, Eddie and Chim are nudging Tommy towards the front of the bar, urging him not to turn and run. All so Buck can cut his heart open and bleed out on the stage for him – for them – and hope he has enough time before his veins run dry. 

Tommy reluctantly sits on the bar stool strategically placed front and center. He’s flanked by Eddie, Chim, Maddie, Hen, Karen and Josh like a group of off kilter secret service agents. And yet he’s still looking at Buck with this mix of adoration and exasperation. Like nothing changed and he’s just here to watch his boyfriend be an idiot.

Buck’s heart pounds behind his ribcage and it’s all he can do to stay standing. He takes a swig of his beer, not that it does much when his mouth feels drier than the Sahara. Hopefully Tommy will understand needing a little liquid courage if only because he knows how much Buck hates singing in public. 

“Ready?” The DJ asks him.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Buck’s eyes flick to the screen, knowing his piece begins immediately. There’s no intro or lead up. Just Buck and whatever’s left of his dignity. 

“If you change your mind-” he winces as his voice cracks, “I’m the first in line. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

Christ, it’s so off key but he’s on a roll now and gaining confidence with every note. 

“Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie, if you put me to the test, if you let me try!” Buck sweeps his free hand over his torso, peacocking in every sense of the word.

Tommy scrubs at his face, looking for all the world like he wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole. Not that Buck blames him. 

“Please don’t make this harder.” Tommy sighs. Silently begs with a pleading look. 

Buck sings louder to drive the point home. “You want me to leave it there, afraid of a love affair. But I think you knoooow, that I can’t let go.” 

Even with Tommy’s palm covering his mouth, Buck can still see the smile glowing in those blue eyes he always wants to stay lost in. 

He steps off the stage, flirty and confident as his friends make room for him to circle the man he’s over the goddamn moon about. The man he’s so fucking in love with that he’s willing to humiliate himself in front of their colleagues. “You say that I waste my time, but I can’t get ya off my mind. No, I can’t let goooo. ‘Cause I love you so.” 

Buck shrugs playfully, drinking in the embarrassed smirk he’s so familiar with. Just one of the dozens of expressions he’s catalogued over their months together. And tortured himself with in the weeks since Tommy broke his heart. Both of their hearts, really. 

By now, the crowd is clapping and cheering him on as he sings his lungs out, strutting around like the lovesick fool that he is. 

“Honey, I’m still free. Take a chance on me!” 

The song fades out, coming to an end as he slides on his good knee. He stops in front of Tommy, panting and flushed, baring his soul for everyone at the badge and ladder to see. Except he only needs one person to see it. To see everything and not be terrified.

“I know I fucked up before and I- I rushed things. And I know this isn’t how any of this should have happened. But you wouldn’t answer me or- or return my calls or texts.” His jaw trembles, voice breaking as tears drip off his chin. “You can take your time, baby. I’m in no hurry.” 

Buck risks reaching for Tommy’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Tommy. Sweetheart. Take a chance on me. Again. Please.”

It feels like a truce, like a fresh beginning. Like the start of something.

“Evan.” 

Buck’s blood fizzes like champagne, bursting with hope. Tommy smiles, a lopsided thing, and oh Buck can hardly sit still long enough to hear what comes next. But he has to, he needs to be patient. Not impulsive, not like before. 

“Buck,” Tommy corrects. 

The world seems to collapse around him. His chosen name sounds like nails on a chalkboard. Like a sour note in an otherwise beautiful aria. 

A tear escapes, rolling down Tommy’s cheek, past his now wobbly lip. “I wish I could. This is- it’s sweet and no one’s ever done anything like this for me before.” Tommy looks up at the ceiling, just like he did that night in the loft, and then meets Buck’s gaze again. “You are gonna be someone’s once in a lifetime. I just know it. But not-” There’s a strangled sound between them, from god knows where. Maybe it’s Buck, maybe it’s Tommy. Maybe it’s both. 

“I’m sorry,” Tommy whispers. 

In a blink, Buck’s hand is empty and Tommy’s weaving through the crowd. Leaving him all over  again.

“No, wait! Hold on!” Buck drops the microphone, ready to chase after him this time. Like he didn’t before. Like he should have. He apologizes as he knocks into tables and past servers until he’s finally out in the cool night air. He licks the salty tears from his lips, frantically searching in every direction. It hasn’t been that long. Buck was seconds behind. Tommy has to be here. 

But he’s not. There’s no sign of him in the crowds of people walking by. People laughing and talking and living their lives with fully formed hearts. All of them ignorant to Buck and his despair. 

“Wait,” he rasps, falling to his knees in the middle of the filthy LA sidewalk. “Please wait.” 

[kairiscorner]

while you were sleeping . . .

🍰 genre: fluff ~

💭 summary: at a late phone call session with your best friend yuuta okkotsu, you both admit to something that changes the world you both live in–it changes him, and he couldn't even begin to express how happy it makes him, how whole you make him.

🎧 song inspo: while you were sleeping by laufey

the young boy's evening routine of calling you every night for you before lights out at the dorms had a slight change in the air to it, maybe it was just another humid afternoon for him, or maybe it was just another chilly night for you.

either way, there was something enchanting about the minute you opened your camera and smiled, greeting him sleepily as the pull of fatigue from the day's events came to bring you to a world of slumber. yuuta grinned himself seeing you curled up under the covers, with you staring back at him with a bashful smile drawn on your face.

"is it cold there?" he asked you as you chuckled lightly under your breath, slowly nodding. "it's december already, so..." you mentioned in a gentle whisper that could barely be heard, but to yuuta, it was a firm reminder of how long he had been away from his home, from his friends, from... you.

his smile faltered a bit, and he looked away from your face when you pointed that out. "true, true. but, hey, it won't be long now; i'll come back before you know it, and, maybe then i can help you warm up. i'll buy you something, a nice coat, perhaps?" he mused, not exactly asking you, but picturing in his mind's eye what kinds of colors you'd like, were he to gift you a coat or a scarf, if you ever needed one.

you pressed your lips together and knitted your eyebrows, pouting at his notion of gifting you something. "not that i don't like gifts from you, i just... want you to know that, y'know, you coking home is enough, yuu," you mutter out that last bit, your eyes a bit downcast as yuuta, in turn, looks at you through the screen–a tint of red across his cheeks. he was always easy to fluster, despite his now aloof appearance.

"you think so?"

"i know so," you asserted, looking back to see his now flushed face, giggling in response. "yuu, what's wrong? is it warm over there?" "it... kinda got warm after what you said," he mumbled out, stumbling over his words as all he could think of right now was how excited you probably were to see him in person once more.

your eyes remained focused on him, and his eyes remained glued onto you–there was a palpable tension in the air between you two, but what yuuta was grateful for the most was that you thought of him, remembered him, noticed him an ocean away.

"yuuta," you whispered, the dark haired boy immediately turning to look at you, giving you his undivided attention. "yeah?" he asked, his eyes wide and his cheeks pink. you smiled wider as the heat in your cheeks worsened; how could your past self ever believe you were finally going to say this?

with a deep breath, you uttered, "...i've loved you for the longest time," and then, silence followed those words. those words suddenly parted the world that you two shared, the world that once marked your friendship, your camaraderie–but then, it changed it into something greater.

those words not only shifted what was once normal for you two, but also built a bridge between you both. your confession changed everything, and... for the first time in your life, you had no second thoughts, no regrets, and nothing else you wanted to keep hidden from him.

yuuta's mouth went dry and agape, his eyes widened once more, and the blush on his face reached up to the tips of his ears, down to the base of his neck. "r-really...?" he stammered out in a soft voice. only a person truly special to the boy would be capable of making him, a special grade sorcerer, embarrassed and flustered beyond all recognition. and it made you even shier, how sweet.

you nodded and covered your lips, a smile breaking out as you felt all giddy at his reaction. his open mouth slowly curved into a grin, then, into a full blown smile. he ran his mouth for a little while, asking you all sorts of questions in a matter of seconds.

why? when? how? he wanted to know... everything, and everything, he wanted to give you. yuuta had never been able to fully articulate it before, it was just so hard, to put a label on these sensations he felt whenever you talked to him, walked with him, or slept on call with him... it always felt different, but he could never really name it, until that morning for you–3:30 AM, while you slowly drifted to sleep, yuuta okkotsu had been enlightened.

yuuta okkotsu was in love with you.

yuuta loved you.

"th-this is... amazing! i-i can't, i can't believe it, i-i... i love you, t-too," he muttered, a dorky smile on his face. he didn't care if anyone saw him, looking like an idiot, grinning as he talked on the phone, all lovestruck and smitten for you. however, your response to him was an involuntary snore.

yuuta looked at the screen, and saw that... you slept. maybe talking at half past 3 in the morning wasn't a good idea, but hey, at least the whole world was yours for the night; and he loved it, every single second of you two being the only people in the world, even for a few minutes.

"...good night, dearest... i love you, okay?" he whispered as he smiled, beaming as he looked at your sleeping figure. he admired you every time you looked like this, wishing he could kiss you goodnight or tuck you in.

he swears, when he gets home, he'll treat you like the lover he wants to be; the lover you deserve, if you're willing to make it official and go the extra mile with him, hand in hand with him–because, while you were sleeping, yuuta had fallen head over heels for you once more.

[bumblesimagines]

this doesn't mean anything.

- Sarah Cameron

this doesn't mean anything.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

Got carried away with this one

In the world of the Outer Banks, Kooks were seen as untouchable. They were the stuck-up, spoiled, privileged kids who could do, say, or buy anything they wanted as long as they had daddy or mommy's credit card in their back pocket. They puffed out their chests, turned up their nose, and spat venom just because they knew they could. Their parents would flock and point fingers if any harm came to them, demanding Sherriff Peterkin and Deputy Shoupe do something about the 'dirty Pogues targeting their poor babies' as if Peterkin and Shoupe could do anything more than let them off with a warning or a brief night in a cell.

While they were utterly pathetic and useless, (Y/N) found them incredibly amusing. Nothing was better than watching the smugness get knocked right out of a Kook. Tears would immediately spring in their eyes and their perfect skin would stain with purple and red coloring that'd stay no matter how many ice packs they put to it. The Kooks that talked the biggest game were often the ones that squealed first in fights. Their scratchy, obnoxious voices would plead for mercy, shouting empty promises of staying away and never bothering them again. Rafe Cameron was the only one who could handle a little pain, but even then, the boy was as boring as watching paint dry. One look from his daddy dearest and he went away with his tail tucked between his legs. 

His sister, as (Y/N) came to learn, was a lot more fun.

"Remember the rules, guys. No hardcore drugs, don't get blackout drunk, and don't start anything without me." (Y/N) called out after his younger brother and his group of friends. He was certain the nerd would keep them out of trouble, as he always did when they hung out, but a reminder never hurt anybody. The four of them scampered further down the beach, kicking up sand in their wake and disappearing amongst the other teenagers. They weren't much younger than him, only a year or two below him in school, but they were as annoying as children and attracted trouble wherever they went.

Fishing his cigarette pack out of his jacket pocket and sticking one between his lips, he allowed his gaze to drift over the party-goers present. Pogues, Kooks, and a few tourists who appeared wildly out of place with their big sun hats blocking half their vision. He recognized Rafe and his posse of coked-up boys lingering near the water and Barry making use of eager Kooks and their heavy pockets. His attention dropped down to his lighter and he grunted when it refused to light for longer than a second.

"Maybe it's a sign you should quit." A feathery voice piped up behind him and he turned around to find the treasured princess of Figure Eight.

Everyone knew Sarah Cameron. She was the beloved daughter of Ward Cameron, the pride and joy of Figure Eight, and the most envied and desired girl in Kildare. Everyone tripped over themselves trying to be in her good graces, trying to get a taste of the Cameron wealth and status. Ever since she entered high school, he'd heard all about her numerous relationships. She lept from boy to boy and left a trail of broken, jealous hearts in her path. Her most recent boy toy had been Topper Thornton, the son of the renowned Doctor Thornton and grandson of Judge Holden. JJ had left enough bruises on him for (Y/N) to know him well. (Y/N) thought they looked more like siblings than lovers.

"Nobody ever taught you not to talk to strangers, princess?" 

"I would hardly call you a stranger." She said and lifted the mai tai in hand up to her pink-colored lips. Her eyes twinkled with the setting sun, lightening the deep shade of brown. "Everyone knows the Maybanks."

"And nobody likes them. You might have to forfeit your Kook card if you get caught talking to me, Miss Cameron." He cooed teasingly and she smiled despite herself, rolling her pretty eyes and brushing her hair away from her face when the wind gently tousled it. His eyes drifted down to the dark knee-length sundress she wore decorated in orange and yellow flowers. It looked better than what most of the girls from the Cut wore to fancy events.

"I don't care about my Kook card, (Y/N). I think this whole... Pogue vs Kook thing is so stupid. We're all living on the same island. Why should we be giving each other shit for where we were born?" 

"I'm sure you'll be a just and fair ruler, princess." His words made her roll her eyes again and she laughed quietly into her can. Even her drink of choice screamed rich. Everyone else stuck to cheap beer or half-filled bottles they stole from the kitchen cabinet when their parents weren't home. Sarah twirled a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing away from him and toward her friends. They hadn't noticed her yet and for a moment, (Y/N) expected her to call out to them and walk away. But she looked back at him with a familiar coy smile. 

"Wanna talk somewhere more... private?"

He wondered how annoyed John B would be when he learned he'd taken Figure Eight's princess back to his place. It'd been closer than the Maybank residence and had less chance of a drunken and drugged Luke staggering through the front door ready to ruin (Y/N)'s night. Kiara would certainly throw a tantrum about him sleeping with her ex-best friend and if Kiara got upset, Pope would quickly follow in defense of his crush. Annoying little shits but they made JJ happy and that was enough for (Y/N) to tolerate their shenanigans. 

Tugging up his pants and zipping them back up, he gazed at the dozing Kook. Her long blonde hair had been sprawled out over the dark pillowcase and she'd buried half her face in the pillow, her parted lips forming a small spot of drool. As content and comfortable as she looked, he needed her back home before she chose to overstay her welcome under false assumptions. 

"Hey, princess." (Y/N) reached down to move some strands of hair away from her face and shook her shoulder. She whined quietly and squeezed her eyes before rolling fully onto her stomach and burying her face further in the pillow defiantly. "You need to get going before Ward calls the cops 'cause his precious girl didn't come home."

Tiredly lifting her head, she squinted at him through the sunlight. "Are you worried about Ward or worried about what your friends will say?" 

"My friends won't give a shit about me taking the Kook princess's virginity, sweets." Her face reddened considerably and he smirked. "My brother's friends might get pissed if they see a Kook on our turf. And I don't want problems with Carrera. She makes good food."

Sarah finally sat up and raked her fingers through her hair to detangle the knots as she searched the floor for her belongings. Her eyes finally settled on her underwear and she pursed her lips, the tips of her ears turning a soft red. "You ripped them." She murmured and her fingers began to toy with the ends of her hair. 

"You didn't complain when I did it." (Y/N) scooped the sundress up from the floor and tossed it in her direction, arms folding over his chest while he watched her get dressed and rise from the bed. She awkwardly tugged at the dress and retrieved her torn underwear from the floor before shoving it into her purse and turning to face him. 

"So-"

"I can drop you off at Word for Word. It's the closest store to Figure Eight so one of your little friends should be able to pick you up. I'd drive you home but I've got work and Barry will kill me if I'm late again." (Y/N) explained quickly and slipped his shirt back on, snatching his keys from the nightstand and jerking his head toward the door when Sarah remained rooted in her spot. 

"That's it? You're just going to... ditch me in the middle of nowhere?" She stared at him in a mixture of surprise and irritation, and (Y/N) sighed, preparing the speech he often found himself telling those who couldn't catch a hint. He was a Maybank, for Christ's sake. Nothing about the men in his family screamed commitment. His father could hardly hold down a job and JJ was as much of a playboy as the next guy.

"Sarah, baby, this doesn't mean anything. I'm sorry if your feelings are hurt but I asked if you were sure and offered to drive you back like five times last night. If you wanted your first time to be with your soulmate, you should've let me know and I would've taken you back to your boyfriend. Now, unless you want to get into a screaming match with Kiara, I suggest you start figuring out who's taking you the rest of the way."

[luveline]

valentines party!! ❤️‍🔥 can we get “what? i’m not allowed to look at you” with bf steve ? his gf a lil shy 🙈

luveline's valentine's mini party ♥︎

thank you for your request!! shy!fem!reader

You hadn't realised how much of having a boyfriend was eating food together in his car. You won't complain because it's quickly become one of your favourite things to do. You haunt Steve's passenger and he buys you dinner, no matter how often you try to take the bill. 

"Right, 'cause that's happening," he says. 

The hot paper bag burns your legs as Steve pulls into a parking lot. He parks, cranks down the windows, pushes his seat back, and turns up the radio. You search through the bag for his burger. 

"I should be allowed to pay, baby," you say softly, hoping your tone will change his mind. "It's not fair that you always pay... You're a feminist." 

He grabs his coke from the cup holder, chuckling to himself between sips. "I'm a feminist, but I also believe in spoiling my girl. I mean, look at you. Do you know how pretty you look right now, just to get burgers? I think I can manage the bill." 

You drop a wad of napkins into his lap before offering his burger and fries. He takes them, and he leans across the console to kiss you quick. It's a nice kiss, gentle and easy. 

"You can pay next time." 

You've heard that one before. Still, you say, "Thank you," and take out your own food. 

You're so glad Steve likes you. That he wants you. Moments like this, watching each other eat, listening to the radio and singing through mouthfuls of lettuce and tomato, letting him dip his fries in your milkshake, they mean the world to you. You hadn't known a guy like Steve existed before you met him. He's accepting. He thinks you're beautiful with lettuce on your chin. He wants to kiss your fingers fry grease and all, and it makes you feel like the prettiest girl on Earth. 

Somehow he manages to get your hand in his, though you're both still eating and one-handed is hard work. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, dropping his burger in his lap. 

"What?" he asks.

"What?" you ask back, averting your eyes. 

"Why were you looking at me like that?"

"What, I'm not allowed to look at you?" you ask, trying to pull your hand out of his. He gets a grip like super glue on you. 

You can hear his smile. "Don't get shy on me now, I want answers!" 

"I'm always shy on you," you say, pleading, "please don't, Stevie."

"You were giving me the googly eyes. I know that. You want another kiss, is that it? I might taste like sesame seeds, but I'll give you the kiss of your life if you look at me like that again." 

It's tempting but off putting at the same time. Of course you want the kiss of your life, but at the same time… 

"I don't think I'd survive it," you mumble. 

Steve bursts into laughter. It's completely golden. He laughs all the way up your arm, kissing from your knuckles to your t-shirt sleeve until you're squirming and pulling your shoulder to your cheek to hide from his ticklish kissing. 

"Your stubble's itching me," you say. 

"Sorry," he says sweetly. 

If there's one thing you know about your boy — he is not sorry.