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joelmillermylove · 2 days

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The familiar stranger Pt.1

dbf!Joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel Miller your dads best friend can’t control himself around you anymore, he makes a move and things heat up. Warning: Smutty themes, age gap (reader in her mid 20s, Joel in his late 40s). Forbidden love, sexual tension. Word count: 2,915 A/N: I’m so proud of this one🥹 Hope everyone loves it as much as I do! Part 2 coming soon!

The summer heat was relentless, pressing down on you with an almost physical weight as you sat on the front porch of your father’s house, the squeak of the rocking chair the only sound in the heavy air. The air conditioner hummed softly inside, but out here, it was still and quiet, save for the occasional call of a bird in the distance.

You lifted the bottle of cold beer to your lips, savoring the brief relief from the heat as the cool glass pressed against your skin. It was a Saturday afternoon like any other, lazy and unhurried, until the sound of tires crunching on the gravel drive pulled your attention. A familiar beat-up truck came into view, dust kicking up as it rolled to a stop.

Joel.

He stepped out of the truck with a heavy grunt, his broad shoulders tensed as if already bracing for whatever task your father had roped him into this time. His plaid shirt clung to him in the heat, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the strong forearms you couldn’t help but notice. It was impossible not to. Joel Miller wasn’t the kind of man who blended into the background—he took up space, his presence commanding without even trying.

For as long as you could remember, Joel had been a constant in your life. He was your father’s best friend, the one who helped out around the house when your dad needed an extra hand, the one who was there for every barbecue, every fishing trip, every birthday. He had always been there—solid, reliable, a fixture in your world.

And yet, lately, something had shifted.

It wasn’t him, not exactly. Joel was the same as ever—gruff, quiet, protective in that silent way of his. But you had changed. You weren’t the little girl he used to tease about your pigtails and scraped knees. You weren’t the teenager who had asked him to teach you how to change a tire just so you could feel like you knew something about the world.

You were an adult now, and the way you looked at Joel had shifted into something you didn’t fully understand. Something you weren’t entirely comfortable with.

He looked up, his eyes catching yours as he slammed the truck door shut. There was a moment, a beat too long where neither of you looked away, and you felt your heart stutter in your chest. His expression was unreadable, but there was something in his gaze, something that made your skin prickle with an awareness you hadn’t asked for.

“Hey,” he called out, his voice that familiar low rumble that always seemed to settle somewhere deep in your chest. “Your dad home?”

You shook your head, clearing your throat to push past the tightness. “Ran into town for a few things. Should be back in a bit.”

Joel nodded, glancing around before stepping onto the porch. He moved with the kind of ease that came with years of knowing exactly where everything was—your father’s house was as much his as it was your family’s, it seemed. He dropped into the chair beside yours with a groan, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

Silence settled between you, comfortable but heavy in a way it hadn’t been before. You tried to focus on anything else—the way the sun filtered through the trees, the faint rustle of the breeze—but your eyes kept drifting back to Joel. To the lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his hand rested on his thigh, strong and steady.

“How’s work?” you asked, if only to break the silence that felt like it might swallow you whole.

He shrugged, taking a swig of his own beer. “Busy. Always busy.”

You nodded, not really sure what else to say. Joel wasn’t one for small talk, and in truth, you weren’t either. But something in the air felt thick, weighted, like there was something unsaid hovering just beneath the surface. Something that had been building for weeks now, maybe longer.

“You been alright?” he asked suddenly, his voice softer, more careful than you were used to hearing from him.

You blinked, taken off guard by the question. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

He turned his head, looking at you fully now, and there was that same intensity in his gaze that made your pulse quicken. “Dunno. You just seem…different lately.”

You swallowed, unsure how to respond to that. Because you were different, weren’t you? You couldn’t pinpoint when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, the lines had started to blur. The way you looked at Joel wasn’t the way a daughter looked at her father’s best friend anymore. And that scared you, more than you wanted to admit.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, but even to your ears, it sounded weak.

Joel’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked away, setting his beer down on the porch railing. “Good,” he muttered, almost as if to himself. “That’s good.”

The silence stretched out again, and this time it was unbearable. You stood, needing to move, to get away from the sudden weight of the moment.

“I should go inside, see if Dad needs help when he gets back,” you said, more of an excuse than anything else.

Joel’s hand reached out, fingers brushing lightly against your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. The touch was fleeting, barely there, but it sent a shock through you all the same. You froze, looking down at his hand, then back up at his face.

“Wait,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that thrummed through the air between you.

You didn’t move. You couldn’t. The world seemed to narrow to just this—just the space between you, the heat of his touch, the way his eyes searched yours as if looking for something he wasn’t sure he wanted to find.

Neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. But in that stillness, in that silence, something shifted. Something irrevocable.

Joel’s fingers lingered on your wrist just a second too long before he pulled away. It was subtle, but it was enough to leave you reeling, the warmth of his touch burning into your skin as if it had branded you. You stood there, frozen, caught between a hundred different feelings that made no sense, each one pulling you in a different direction.

You wanted to ask him what that meant—what that touch meant. But you didn’t trust yourself to say the right thing. You didn’t trust your voice not to tremble. So instead, you muttered something about needing to grab a glass of water and hurried into the house, the screen door slamming shut behind you.

Inside, the cool air did little to calm the storm raging in your chest. You leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to catch your breath. The beat of your heart was loud, too loud, and your thoughts were a mess—Joel’s touch, the way he had looked at you, the weight of the moment that had passed between you like a live wire.

What the hell was that?

You didn’t want to think about it. But how could you not? There had always been something about Joel—something you couldn’t quite put into words. He wasn’t just your father’s best friend anymore, not to you. He hadn’t been for a long time.

You ran the tap and splashed cold water on your face, hoping it might snap you out of the thoughts swirling in your head. The water dripped down your neck, cool but not nearly enough to shake the feeling that had settled deep inside you.

Joel was still outside. You could see him through the window, his elbows resting on his knees as he sat on the porch, his head bent forward. From here, he looked tired—more tired than you were used to seeing him. He always had that quiet strength, that sense of reliability, but today, it felt like there was a heaviness in him you hadn’t noticed before.

You sighed and turned away from the window, trying to distance yourself from the pull you felt toward him. But it was impossible to ignore.

Just as you were about to retreat to your room, you heard the front door creak open behind you. You didn’t turn around right away, didn’t want to face him, not after what had just happened. But his voice reached you before anything else did, low and soft.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded quickly, pretending to busy yourself with drying your hands. “Yeah, just needed a minute.”

A long pause filled the space between you before Joel’s footsteps sounded softly against the kitchen floor. You felt him before you saw him, the presence of him behind you like a magnetic force you couldn’t escape. He didn’t say anything right away, and that only made the tension thicker.

When you finally turned to face him, you found him watching you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. His hands were in his pockets, but his body was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

“You seem… off,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving yours. “Did I—”

“No.” You cut him off too quickly, shaking your head. “No, you didn’t do anything.”

His brow furrowed slightly, unconvinced. “You sure?”

“I’m sure,” you lied, though you weren’t sure of anything anymore. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue because you knew that both of you were aware of what was left unsaid.

Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again. “You know, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.”

Your breath hitched at the closeness of him, the gentleness of his tone. The Joel you knew wasn’t this soft, wasn’t this careful. And it was that softness, that care, that made your heart ache in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“I—” You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “It’s nothing, Joel. Really.”

But he didn’t back off. His eyes searched yours, his brow still furrowed in concern, but there was something else there, something that made your stomach twist in a way that both terrified and thrilled you. You’d never seen him look at you like that before. And it made it impossible to breathe.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Joel exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Damn it, kid,” he muttered, and for the first time, there was something raw in his voice—something that made your chest tighten.

“I’m not a kid anymore,” you blurted, the words coming out sharper than you intended. “I’m not.”

Joel’s eyes snapped to yours, and the tension in the room shifted again. This time, it was darker, more dangerous. He didn’t move, but the way he looked at you now wasn’t the way a man looked at someone he thought of as a kid. It was the way a man looked at something he knew he shouldn’t want.

But the worst part was that you wanted him to look at you that way. You’d wanted it for longer than you cared to admit, and now that it was happening, you didn’t know how to handle it.

“I know that,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Trust me, I know.”

He stepped closer and your pulse quickened. He wasn’t touching you yet, but the space between you was chargerd, like a live wire about to spark. You could feel his eyes on you, lingering in a way that sent heat coursing through your body, pooling low in your belly.

“This isn’t….” His voice was rough, as if the words were difficult to push out. “This isn’t a good idea”.

But he didn’t stop moving towards you and you didn’t back away, You should have. You knew you should have.

This was Joel, your dads best friend. There were lines you weren’t supposed to cross. But the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched when he got closer, it made it impossible to think clearly.

“I know” you whispered, but your body betrayed you, leaning toward him, drawn in like you were powerless to stop it.

His hand came up, hesitating for just a moment before his fingers brushed your arm, trailing a path of heat as he slid them up towards your shoulder. The touch was light, barley there, but it was enough to make you shiver, your breath catching in your throat.

“Damn it” he muttered and before you could react he closed the distance between you his body pressing against yours, pinning you against the counter. His hand gripped your was it, firm and possessive, like he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

The sudden closeness stole the air from your lungs and for a moment neither of you moved. His forehead rested against yours, his breath hot and ragged as it ghosted over your lips. Your heart pounding so loud you were sure he could hear it, feel it, the way your chest rose and fell with every shallow breath.

“You’re so beautiful” he murmured, his grip on you tightened, his hand sliding around to the small of your back, pulling you even closer.

All you could do was stand there, caught in the heat of the moment, in the way his body felt pressed against yours, in the way your body ached for more.

Slowly you lifted your hands to his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, smelling his intoxicating cologne. His breath hitched at your touch and that small sound, that tiny moment of weakness made your pulse race. You wanted more, needed more.

“Joel…” you whispered again, but this time it wasn’t a warning. it was a plea.

His eyes darkened, is jaw clenched tight as he stared down at you, like he was on the verge of something dangerous, something he couldn’t take back. His thumb brushed your cheek, his touch gentle despite the storm of emotions raging between you.

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into darlin” he said voice hoarse, almost broken. But his eyes flicked to your lips and you could feel the tension rising, the air between you crackling with need.

“I know what exactly what im doing Joel” you breathed, your fingers curling into his shirt, pulling him closer.

That was all it took.

With a loud growl, Joels mouth crashed against yours and it was like a dam breaking. This kiss was hungry, desperate, as if both of you had been holding back for too long and couldn’t bear it anymore. His hands roamed over your body, rough and urgent, as if he needed to feel every inch of you beneath his touch.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands sliding up to wrap around his neck, pulling him even closer, deeper. His tongue parted your lips, the taste of him overwhelming your senses as he kissed you like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough,

Every touch, every kiss sent a jolt of electricity through you and you arched against him, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the heat and weight of him. His hands slid under your shirt, calloused fingers grazing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You feel so damn good sweetheart” he groaned against your lips, his voice rough and desperate as he kissed his way down your jaw, his teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp.

Your head tilted back, giving him more access as he moved lower, his mouth hot against the sensitive skin of your neck. Every brush of his lips, every scrape of his teeth made you dizzy, made you ache for more.

But just as quickly as it had started, Joel pulled back, his chest heaving as he stared down at you with wild, dark eyes.

“Wait…” his voice strained, his forehead resting against yours again as he struggled to catch his breath. “We shouldn’t do this”

You were both breathless, your bodies still pressed together, the heat between you palpable, overwhelming.

“I don’t care” you whispered, your hands still clutching his shirt, unwilling to let him go.

“Fuck” he says under his breath, his fingers digging into your waist was like he was fighting a battle with himself, torn between what he knew was right and what his body wanted.

For a moment, it seemed like he was going to give in. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours again, his breath hot against your skin. But then, with groan of frustration, he pulled away, stepping back as if putting distance between you was the only way to keep himself from losing control completely.

“I can’t” he said, voice tight, like it hurt to say the words. “Not like this”

You stood there, chest heaving, heart racing, the taste of him still on your lips, your body aching from the sudden loss of contact.

And then, without another word, Joel turned and walked out, leaving you alone in the kitchen, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

You leaned against the counter, your head spinning, your body still humming with the memory of his touch.

Things had gone too far. There was no going back now and that was okay with you.

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hyunebunx · 1 day

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Wow I’m stupid I pressed send way too fast 🩵 with Lee Know??

˖˙ ᰋ ── 🩵 - kissing in the rain with Minho

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: a teeny tiny amount of angst but it has a happy ending

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: thank you sm for requesting!!! <3 i had soo many ways of writing this in my head that i struggled lol. i really hope you like what i came up with. it's loosely (very) based on the rain scene in pride and prejudice so enjoy!! <33

Arguments were not a usual occurrence in your relationship. Most of the time you managed to settle any disagreement before it could escalate to such heights, the perfectly communicating couple all of your friends couldn’t help but feel a little envious of.

Now was not one of those times; your stress and emotions were getting the best of both you and Minho in the most unpleasant way. You hated arguing with him, getting angry and unable to see the other’s point of view, clouded by the desire to be right and make each other understand where you were coming from.

“You don’t get it.” Minho shakes his head with a sigh, forearms resting on the wheel as the rain poured outside your safe haven, hitting the windshield at an alarming pace and preventing you from seeing anything, even with the headlights on.

“Explain it to me, then!” You bite back, body facing his in the heated passenger seat that was keeping you warm and cozy despite the chill outside. Even when arguing you could admit Minho was the most considerate person alive – you didn’t ask him to turn on the heat, he must have done it when he noticed you trembling like a leaf after getting in.

He surprised you after work, dropping by and driving directly to one of your favorite restaurants just in time for dinner and a well deserved date night. Everything was perfect, the location, the food, and especially the company, laughing and having a great time with the love of your life.

Until things turned sour on your drive home, and what started as a silly disagreement turned into a full-on argument about something you didn’t find significant enough even to remember.

“That’s what I’ve been doing for the past ten minutes but it seems you don’t want to listen!”

You’ve been walking (or driving) in circles, with him getting frustrated and you following right on his tail until the car came to a stop right in front of your apartment building.

It’s not like you didn’t want to listen or care to hear him out, it’s just that Minho seemed to make something out of nothing, insisting and pushing forth the same idea like you were nothing more than a child who lacked basic comprehension. It was frustrating and exhausting, especially after the long day you’ve had.

“Min, I’ve been listening.” You try to smooth things over, warm hand landing on his thigh comfortingly. “Just because I’m not giving you the answers you want doesn’t mean I’m not hearing you.”

Minho remains silent, head turned the other way to stare out the window and not acknowledge your presence. When the silence stretches on, you give up with a sigh and retract your hand, reaching for your purse in the backseat and opening the car door in the same breath.

“What are you – “ You close it right before he can finish the sentence, set on getting inside with or without him to finally take the bubble bath you’ve been daydreaming about all day at work.

“Kitten!” His voice follows a moment later, the sound of the car door slamming louder than him amongst the deafening rain. “Y/n!”

Despite yourself and the insanity of spending even one more minute in this storm, you stop and allow him to catch up, not protesting as his warm hands land on your shoulders and turn you around almost desperately.

“Where are you going? We are not done talking.” He states, dark hair and clothes getting soaked at an alarming pace as the rain spares neither of you.

“But I am!” You exhale, the chill settling into your bones. “We won’t reach an agreement like this so let’s just stop!”

His eyes widen as he pulls you closer, chest to chest, figures illuminated by the bright headlights almost blinding. “Baby, wait – “

“I hate fighting with you, Min.” Without meaning to, you interrupt him once again, reaching up to cup his face and drag him closer. “I’m sorry, okay? We can talk this over calmly inside after we cool down. Just not like this, please, I can’t do it anymore.”

He nods instantly, agreeing without a doubt and most likely seeing his faults too, and not only yours. Then, when you expect him to let go and finally follow you in, Minho surprises you the second time tonight by leaning over and connecting your lips in a kiss full of passion and love, reminding you once again that the heart in his chest beats first and foremost for you. His upper limbs cling to your body just like your clothes, hugging you tightly while your hands squeeze his face affectionately, a smile sneaking past and pulling one from him as well, on the verge of beaming into the kiss.

The rain seems to disappear, the cold too, like you weren’t bothered by either in the first place. Minho has that effect on you, helping you see the good in every situation. Sure, the location was not ideal – nothing could be less romantic than a barely lit parking lot – but as always, the company mattered more. And the message he was trying to send. When words failed you, actions worked better, speaking louder and getting your point across without much effort.

Sure, the argument wasn’t resolved but you both managed to make the other understand what mattered the most. You might be disagreeing now, momentarily stuck in a small pothole along the way, but you still loved each other, you would get over it and be okay in the end.

Because that’s what true love meant. Getting through things together and continuing to walk down your joined paths, hand in hand, no matter how many potholes or rough patches you encounter. A small setback won’t ever erase your feelings for each other, or make you forget all the beautiful moments you’ve shared.

And maybe, just maybe, a kiss was all you needed to finally understand Minho’s point when you sat down and resolved things that night. He, on the other hand, needed a few more to be satisfied.

#stray kids #skz #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids headcanons #skz headcanons #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #stray kids soft thoughts #stray kids soft hours #skz angst #skz fluff #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #lee know x you

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wttcsms · 3 days

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if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: [email protected] To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: [email protected], [email protected], [email protected], [email protected] + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All —

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule.

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off.

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.)

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you.

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit.

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms.

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty.

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts.

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words.

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment]

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested.

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media.

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.”

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know,

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.”

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.”

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming.

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything.

Late in the afternoon, you get another text.

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense.

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out?

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world.

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity.

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living.

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days.

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home?

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too.

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :)

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM.

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her.

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend.

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words.

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be.

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her.

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you.

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table.

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day.

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her.

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.”

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy.

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.”

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress.

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could.

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.”

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?”

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation.

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?”

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him.

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?”

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks.

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together.

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers.

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend.

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.”

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion.

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk).

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you.

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned.

“Never better.”

“Do you have a ride home?”

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say.

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking.

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge.

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.)

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly.

“Let me take you home.”

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.”

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early.

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].”

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever.

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car.

No.

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up.

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!”

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!”

“Then why were your hands all over me?”

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet.

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint.

He blinks. “What?”

“What?” You repeat back, innocently.

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup.

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.”

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks.

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway.

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back.

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces.

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?”

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps.

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.”

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets.

“Do you really want me to stay?”

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

#yoichi isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x you #isagi x reader #one shot #fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #rin itoshi x reader #smau #series: if you feel like falling

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sugarushwriting · 2 days

Text

vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)

jay isn’t happy with your decisions

neither is sunghoon

jake or heeseung

they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them

straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!

next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.

do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.

where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?

the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.

as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.

“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”

you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”

“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”

“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”

the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”

well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.

jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.

you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.

you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.

your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.

you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.

he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”

it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.

you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.

he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.

“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.

jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”

“but—,”

jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.

jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.

“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”

his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.

he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.

he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.

you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.

jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”

another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.

you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.

he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.

jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.

your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.

“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”

your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”

you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.

another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.

he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.

your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.

he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.

fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.

“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”

if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!

he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.

not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.

he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.

“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.

jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.

all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.

his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.

your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.

it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.

you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.

you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.

you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.

jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.

but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.

you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.

“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”

you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.

jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”

jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?

footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.

sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.

“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.

“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.

sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”

his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.

you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.

this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.

your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.

your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”

sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.

“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.

your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.

you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.

maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.

you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.

you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.

your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.

all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.

hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?

you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?

with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.

heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”

wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!

you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.

that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.

heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.

he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.

“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.

you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.

you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.

not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.

“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.

now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.

your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.

it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.

you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.

you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.

it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.

“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.

your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.

your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”

you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.

“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.

you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.

“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.

“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”

and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.

jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.

you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.

between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.

he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.

jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.

jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”

your mouth was so dry.

jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.

next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.

jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.

“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”

and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.

you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.

jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.

jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”

you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.

once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.

you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

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cosmicdahlias · 2 days

Text

You Know What You Do To Me

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: smut, oral, mdom

i’ve really enjoyed writing these fics! it’s been so long since i’ve been passionate about something like this 😭

It was another afternoon working at the Mystery Shack. You were dusting shelves, thinking about later tonight. You had two jobs, by day you sold overpriced knickknacks for your boss, local con artist Stan Pines, and by night you worked for his brother, Stanford. Before he even came back through the portal you were a big fan of his work, Dipper regularly lent you the journals during your breaks. You pored over the material, longing to meet the author.

When you met him it was a typical day, typical as things get in Gravity Falls. You were helping Soos fix up the place after the town had turned upside down, he filled you in on the cause. A portal, Stan had a brother who had been missing for 30 years, and more importantly this brother was the mysterious author you so desperately wanted to meet.

You were in the process of nailing a shelf back to the wall when you heard a door open behind you. You turned to see a man who looked nearly identical to Stan, but better posture, and somehow… cooler. You knew instantly this must be the man behind the journals. Your heart skipped a beat, not just from the excitement of finally getting to see the author, but because you couldn’t get over how handsome he was.

He looked at you and you felt yourself turn into a puddle. You could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks flush slightly, but convinced yourself you were seeing things.

“OH MY GOD THE AUTHOR IS LOOKING RIGHT AT ME!!! BE COOL!!! BE COOL!!!” You thought rapidly.

He made his way over to you and extended a hand to you, six fingers, the symbol on the journal’s cover made so much sense.

“Stanford Pines, you must be one of Stanley’s employees.”

“Y/n. You’re… the author of the journals.”

“You’ve read my journals?”

There it was again, the faintest tint of red on his cheeks.

“Yeah, multiple times. Your nephew lends them to me sometimes. I’ve always been into the weird and paranormal.”

“Well it’s always a pleasure to find someone who appreciates my life’s work.”

In the weeks that followed Ford would ask you to become his assistant. He insisted he was getting too old to do these things on his own. You loved working with him, unraveling the mysteries of this town. It gave you a sense of purpose.

The tension between you two was more than palpable, but neither of you had been willing to admit it to each other yet. Your time together was filled with stolen glances and flushed cheeks.

As you finished dusting a snow globe your mind wandered to your mentor. You had been pushing the limits lately, trying to get his attention. You wore more and more revealing clothes, you would drop your pen just to have an excuse to bend over in front of him, you would find reasons to stand close to him. You could tell it was driving him crazy, he would awkwardly excuse himself and disappear for ten to fifteen minutes, returning breathless.

But you started to think yesterday might have gone too far. You were sitting to the right of him as he was writing in his research notes, you pulled up your skirt slightly, slipping a hand down to your-

“Y/n, can we talk?”

You jumped, Ford had a habit of moving silently. A valuable skill when you’ve spent the last 30 years in other dimensions constantly staring death in the face.

You let your heart rate settle. “Yeah, sure.”

“Good, follow me.” He motioned you with his hand.

You both walked down the stairs to the basement where his lab resided, he turned to face you.

“Look, y/n, I know what you’ve been doing.”

You turned scarlet. You decided to feign ignorance.

“What do you mean?”

He exhaled a deep breath, massaging his temples. “Don’t play this game with me, you know exactly what you’re doing to me. Wearing shorter and shorter skirts, giving me bedroom eyes, finding any reason to bend over in front of me, and then yesterday-” he paused “yesterday you went out of your way to drive me crazy. You sat next to me, hiking up your skirt and you-“

He drew a shuddering breath, stepping awfully close, his chest almost touching yours “teased your clit over your panties, knowing full well you were in my peripherals. And you did that on purpose, stopping whenever I looked your way just to torture me, not letting me savor such a gorgeous view. I thought about you all night, I came with your name leaving my lips. And now-“ he pulled out a chair “you’re going to sit in front of me and touch yourself.”

“Ford-“

“No, you were so eager to do it yesterday, what’s stopping you now?”

You felt yourself grow wet under his words, you sat yourself down in front of him.

“Take off your panties, go ahead, take them off.”

You slipped the fabric down your legs and off your ankles letting them drop to the floor in front of you.

“Spread your legs, let me see you. Pull that skirt up.”

You obeyed his instructions.

“Now, slip a finger in your cunt and use your wetness to stroke your clit.”

You let your finger travel down to your dripping pussy, you traced little circles on your clit. You let out a sigh, Ford was watching you touch yourself, you had dreamed of this.

A growl rumbled in his throat, he watched you hungrily. His cock strained in his pants, he wanted to touch himself, but he couldn’t, not yet. You moaned softly, your brow furrowing in concentration.

“Faster, don’t stop.”

You picked up your pace, rubbing frantically, your moans growing louder, echoing through the lab. You hoped no one upstairs could hear you.

“Tell me how it feels.” He demanded.

“Mmmh, Ford, it feels so good.” You whimpered.

“That’s right, I know it does.”

He stepped close to you, a hand on the back of the chair, looking straight at you. You could smell him, fresh pine and leather. Your breathing became shallow and erratic, you were getting close. Ford could sense it.

“Are you going to cum?”

“Y- yes.”

“Good, look at me.”

You locked eyes with him, he stared at you intently. The feeling on your clit was becoming overwhelming, you were going to cum, dear god you were going to cum for him.

“Nhhh, ah hah, Ford.” You pathetically whimpered out, you couldn’t form a real sentence if you tried.

You felt yourself right on the edge, god you loved this, you loved putting on a show for him, you gritted your teeth in anticipation.

“Stop.”

“Wh- what?”

“You heard me, stop touching yourself.”

You withdrew your hand, your orgasm ruined.

“Why did you- I don’t understand.”

“You’ve been teasing me for weeks, with yesterday being the final straw. Now you’re going to see how it feels. Actions have consequences and you’re going to learn that. You don’t get to cum.”

He pulled you up by your arm, he grabbed your face and kissed you sloppily in pure hunger and desire. He let you go and dropped his hands to his belt buckle, undoing it.

“You need to see what you’re doing to me.”

He slipped his pants down enough to reveal his thick, hard cock. Fuck, he’s big. You bit your lip instinctively.

“Stroke my cock, now.”

You wrapped your hand around his shaft, your thumb massaging the head. He let out a groan of approval and you began pumping his cock. He started kissing and sucking on your neck, he was going to mark you so everyone knew you were his property. He started to buck into your hand, a bead of precum forming at the head. He throbbed, moaning into your neck.

He took your face in his hands again, god you loved when he looked at you.

“Get on your knees and take my cock in your mouth.”

“Yes sir.”

He throbbed at “sir” no one had ever called him that, he liked it. He made a mental note to encourage you to keep saying it.

You dropped to your knees and took his full length in your mouth.

“Fuuuck baby you’re so good at this, no one’s ever taken me all the way down before.”

He grabbed a fistful of hair and began fucking your mouth aggressively. You choked and pulled back. He chuckled.

“Oh poor baby, guess I spoke too soon, I’m sorry sometimes I forget how hard it is to handle a cock like mine.” He taunted while stroking your chin with his thumb. “I’ll try to slow down, it helps if you make an effort to breathe out of your nose.”

He resumed face fucking you, this time with a slightly more gentle rhythm, but you still felt the inclination to gag. You attempted to steadily breathe out of your nose and felt the urge subside. He clenched his jaw and picked up his pace again, you were really struggling to take him, he liked it that way.

His hips stuttered and bucked against your mouth. He could feel his orgasm rising.

“Baby slow down, slow down you’re gonna make me cum.”

You decided to ignore him, continuing to work your mouth on his cock.

“Stopstopstopstop. Stop!” He growled.

He seized your hair and pulled you off of his cock, knocking you backward. He reached out a hand and pulled you to your feet, then raised a hand and brought it down hard on your ass.

“You need to listen to me, next time I won’t be so nice.”

You savored the idea of being left with a six fingered welt. He lowered his hands to your hips and spun you around. He pressed himself against your back, his hard cock throbbing on your ass. His hand gripped your throat and he whispered in your ear.

“I’m going to fuck you senseless until I finish inside of you and you’re not going to cum, do you understand?”

You nodded fervently.

“Good, you’re so cute when you listen.” He said while slipping his thumb in your mouth.

He bent you over his desk, papers falling to the floor, one hand gripping your shoulder, the other on your hip. He pressed the tip of his cock into you before forcing the rest of his length inside of you. You started to scream out in pleasure, but Ford instinctively clasped a hand over your mouth.

He slapped your ass again. “Quiet, stardust, do you want everyone to hear you?”

He began to pump his cock inside of you, his hips slapping against your ass. You tightened around him and he groaned loudly.

“God I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock, it’s so fucking perfect.” He panted between thrusts.

He fucked you with a brutal intensity. He was doing this for his own pleasure, not yours. Like he said, you didn’t get to cum, not after what you had done yesterday. He pulled out and you whined, paused for effect and slammed himself back in. You threw your head back, moaning his name.

It felt so goddam good to finally fuck you like this after all the moments he had to steal himself away from his work to just to stroke his cock because you were incessantly teasing him. He had imagined you bent over his desk like this thousands of times. The image of you taking his cock like a good little whore was all the could picture whenever he caught you staring at him.

His grip on your shoulder and hip tightened, nails digging into your flesh. He was fucking you faster and faster, he wanted so badly to know what cumming in you felt like. You started to move your hips back onto him. Oh my god he couldn’t believe you wanted him this badly.

“Goddammit yes baby fuck back on my cock like that, you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

You whimpered in approval.

“Would you like that stardust? Huh? Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

All you could manage was a weak “Uh huh.”

He panted like a dog, he was gonna breed you like one. Sweat began go form on his forehead, his glasses fogging.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted this, wanted you. When I first met you I thought you were so fucking beautiful. I spent that night stroking myself to the cute Mystery Shack employee. I thought it was just a lonely old man’s fantasy that you would ever show me any interest, but then you started working for me and you would look at me with those eyes. God those eyes, so full of lust and want.”

You felt his cock throb inside you, he was close.

“I’m going to fill you up, have you dripping with my cum. Tell me you want it, I want to hear you beg.”

“Please, I need your cum in me. I need it so bad.”

“Call me sir.”

“Ahhh, hah, please sir, cum in me.”

He moaned loudly as he fucked you with a ruthless intensity. He buried himself deep in you as he came, your name escaping his lips. He didn’t stop fucking you, the feeling was overwhelming but he couldn’t help himself.

For a while there was nothing but the sounds of your heavy breaths. He began to slowly pull his cock out of you, cum spilling onto the floor. Jesus fucking christ he needed to draw this later.

You stayed bent over his desk, legs shaking. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you onto his lap as he sat in his desk chair.

“Are you alright? I didn’t take it too far, did I?” He said stroking your hair.

“N- no, it was incredible.” You said between haggard breaths.

“Good, now here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go upstairs and finish the rest of your shift. You are to keep your panties off and let my cum slowly drip out of you. And then later tonight you’ll stay here and I’ll reward you by letting you cum on my tongue and cock, if, and only if you heed my instructions. Do we have a deal, stardust?”

Your heart thumped wildly in your chest. Having Ford to yourself all night? Holy fucking shit yes.

“Deal.” You smiled.

“That’s my baby.” He said cupping your chin and pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You ascended up the creaking stairs back to work. Mind still buzzing with the moment you had just shared with Ford.

“There you are. I was startin’ to think you ditched, but then I- whoa, what happened to you, kid? You look like you’ve been hit by a bus.” Stan said in his gruff voice.

You caught your reflection in the window, your hair was a mess. You quickly attempted to fix it.

“Ah, uh, I was just helping Ford fix some stuff.”

Stan stared at you for a second before a smirk creased his lips.

“Oh yeah I bet he fixed you real good, kid.”

You turned beet red “No, that’s not what I-“

He laughed. “Look, I’m just happy you two finally hooked up. I was gettin’ real sick of watching you two ogle at each other like horny repressed teenagers. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bet to settle with Wendy.”

“Great, Stan. Thanks for not making things awkward.”

#ford pines #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #ford pines fanfic #gravity falls

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grimsonandclover · 1 day

Text

Blurb expanding on this idea. Not proofread, written in an hour tops.

Nsfw

College!Artrick in the modern day instead of 2006/7. They're bored, Art's finished his assignments and Patrick's procrastinating so they decide to go to a party someone is throwing near campus that they've heard people talking about. Patrick wants to get laid, Art wants to talk to someone other than Patrick (he loves his friend but they've been around eachother 24/7 for days now).

Art's the first to come across you at the party. Platform pleather boots with metal buckles up the sides, a black, lace trimmed miniskirt with ripped fishnets underneath. A large black knit sweater with small holes at the collar, and Art's wondering to himself if it came like that or not. Like moths got to it. A large silver cross on your chest with layers of necklaces stacked with it, the fingers gripping a red solo cup clad with chunky rings and long acrylics.

Your head is turned away from him initially, so he only gets a look at your clothes at first. He approaches because he wants to ask about the sweater (he's never been good with icebreakers). When you turn to look at him, he thinks his heart stops.

Your lips are painted a dark red, almost black, and the first thing he thinks of is if it would transfer to his lips if you made out. Because fuck, he wants to kiss those lips.

"It came like this" you explain, and then he realizes that you're answering his question. "Why?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Cause it's cute, I guess."

Art couldn't explain it, but he believed you could make anything look cute. So he shrugged, agreeing. It's when you introduce yourself by name that Patrick finds Art again, and it's his turn to oogle at you.

He's never been a picky guy, barely has a solid type unless saying his type was "hot" was a valid answer. But seeing you... you're his type. Just you. Patrick's shoulder to shoulder with Art in an instant, leaning in to introduce himself loud enough so you can hear him over the shitty party music.

When he gets your name, he smiles over his solo cup as he repeats it. Art gives his best friend a look. Oh great, he's into you, too.

"I like your makeup." Patrick points to your face like you don't know where it is. "I didn't know emos could look so hot."

That makes you laugh. "I'm not an emo, but thanks, I guess."

Art nudges Pateick in the ribs before speaking up again. "And your jewelery, too. How long does it take to put on?"

The rest of the night is spent with the two friends competing for your attention, flirting with you the best they can. You know what's going on, and you let them if not for your own amusement.

You start noticing the two more on campus, and when they see you (which isn't hard to do) they awake sure to strike up conversation. It isn't long before you can call them friends.

Neither of them want that, though. They wanna see if your panties are as black as the bra peaking from your tank top when the sun's threatening to turn the school into melted goo. You wore a sweater at the party when you met so they couldn't yell, but this tanktop showed off the absolute rack you owned. They wanted your tits in their drooling faces. They wanted your glossy lipstick smeared over their cocks. They wanted to hear you scream their name as you bounced on top of them, feel you cum around them.

Instead, they settled on the long game. While hanging out, you'd mention the music you liked, what album you were listening to, what band you went to see over the weekend. The moment classes end and you all leave to your respective dorms, the two tennis players are both removing Drake and Carseat Headrest from their ques and playing whatever song you last mentioned to them. They do it just so they can tlak over eachother the next time they see you about the songs on the album they both suddenly know. Patrick finds himself unexpectedly loving Seether, especially, and he didn't even think he'd leave the experience liking the music for real.

You really start liking Art and Patrick, which you didn't expect. Sure, they were cute, attentive, and incredibly hot, but they weren't exactly the type of guys who normally approached you. Guys like them actually tended to be intimidated by anyone in alternative styles or genres. And they listened to you. Would let you talk about your interests for hours if you wanted. It made you like them even more.

They were surprised, too. Like I said, Patrick doesn't really have a type, just hot people, but most girls he's been with aesthetically have been pretty "mainstream" all things considered. There's nothing wrong with that, of course, but it made you stand out to him in his fantasies. Both your style and your tits. He really liked staring at your boobs every chance he got. His top fantasy lately when he jerks off involves him smothering himself in your tits while he fucks you. He comes hard to the idea, making bigger messes over his fist and chest than usual.

Art usually got with "clean girls" or girls adjacent to that aesthetic, so hes confused by the complete 180 his tastes seemed to have taken since meeting you. You're all he could think about now. He wanted to wake up next to you in the mornings and see you fresh faced before your daily beat, watch your ritual of doing your hair and picking out your clothes and jewelry. He wanted to witness the whole process. And he wanted to motorboat you, but that's a side thought. He's also gotten off to the idea of being with you, but he's always so ashamed. He doesn't want to sexualize you like that, it doesn't seem fair or nice. Does that stop him? No. He's still scrolling through your Instagram, painting his fist and the corner of his phone white with cum to your latest thirst trap selfie, imagining that it's your hand around him instead, your acrylics wrapped around his needy cock when he whimpers your name into his pillow. It's hard to look you in the eyes afterward.

#patrick zweig #art donaldson #challengers #challengers 2024 #josh o'connor #mike faist #x reader #challengers fic #alternative!reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson x reader #artrick #artrick x reader

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dukecollinsbf · 1 day

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darlin's unempowered friend hcs :3 also masc darlin oc mentioned A LOT! (who's surprised)

his name is trevor o'connor. he's half korean (mom's side) and was born in northern ireland, belfast specifically, before moving to america around the same time that julius (darlin) came to Dahlia, so they quickly became friends because they were both new and had no clue what to do with themselves

he moved away because his mom abandoned him and his dad and his dad, tiernan, didn't really know what to do with himself and moved to america where his brother was. (tiernan is a triplet!) his dad eventually remarried to charlotte and is now extremely happy. trevor loves char!! he has younger siblings from her (that sounds weird? idk how else to word it) and she's overall just one of those mothers that radiate sunshine but does NOT play abt her kids

julius has a bunch of nicknames for him. It went from Trevor to Trev to T to TT (Tee-tee) then titty then Mr. Titty. It's like when you give your dog a nickname and then it escalates into something completely different

neither of these dudes can walk straight. widawee. like they bump into each other or walk in front of each other and get mad like "WATCH WHERE YOU'RE FUCKING GOING, WHAT ARE YOU DOING??"

they were both losers... they were both pretty boys, but losers. like if they were extroverts and didn't have interests that were considered "weird" then they probably would've been more popular in school

before moving to america, trevor forgot to break up with the girl he was dating so it looked like he literally just disappeared. one time during lunch at school trevor did a big ol sigh like "SIGHH.... man i miss my gf.." and julius was like WHAT r u even talking about......

one time he buzzed and bleached his hair and julius called him eminem for a week and a half before trevor got mad and made julius dye it silver, and when it grew out he had those like tiny little spikes with dark roots and he thought he was the SHIT (he was.)

allergic to pineapple

dyslexic

his favourite number is 8. julius' is 7.

after being attacked by quinn, trevor never blamed julius

julius tried to cook for him when he got discharged from the hospital and trevor was like "what... even is this.."

he didn't eat it. julius ordered him something and ate his creation himself cus he hates wasting food

monster lover, julius is a redbull lover

trevor is also a WHORE for a dr. pepper

one time when they were 14, they tried feeding a stray dog which lead to julius being bitten HARDDD like this dog held on for dear life. afterwards, they hopped on trevor's bike and went to marie's. halfway there trevor asked if julius was okay and julius was just like "are you serious."

they always argue over shit like soccer vs football, chips vs fries, scone vs biscuit, etc. all julius can say to defend himself is "im not from this country."

once he was caught in a lie and trevor replied with "i have an accent, you don't know what i said."

do not have a srs talk around these two. they'll make eye contact and lose their shit

julius wanted to start a band and trevor was like dude we have literally no friends what are you talking about

they used to cuddle platonically all the time, especially when all the quinn shit was going on

trevor has horrendous handwriting. julius makes fun of him when his own handwriting isnt any better, but he defends himself by saying you can read it and that's all that matters

julius : i made u a friendship bracelet :3

trev; thats gay

julius: ok fuck u damn give me it back

trev: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO PLEAAAAAAAAAASE

trevor has a ginger little cat with one eye who's called pearce

one time julius and trev's apartment building caught on fire cus of shitty wiring and julius had to sit outside in just baggy sweatpants and trevor was sitting out there on the curb in just underwear and a pair of slippers cus it was like 2am

julius: ur so annoyi-

trevor: UR APARTMENT BURNED DOWN!!!!!

even tho it was his apartment too and they literally lose half their shit to the fire

trevor's little sister made him mad one time and he told her the tooth fairy wasn't real

they worked together for a while and both got fired cus they both have anger issues and were also so unserious. like they'd end up on the floor with laughter mid shift.

he hated david for a long ass time. he'd refer to him as bitch boy. he loved asher tho and thought milo was a little too intimidated for a short guy (sassy man apocalypse.)

he has an eyebrow piercing and a few small tattoos, he's scared of needles but wanted to look cool

he didn't know about magic until he got attacked by quinn and was about to pass out from blood loss and he fully thought it was a hallucination. then julius came to him in the hospital like you'll never believe this...

EVER SINCE THEN, julius has no peace.

werewolf reaction pics. dog jokes. julius' birthday gift after trev found out was a squaky toy and on halloween he dressed up as the most cliche werewolf ever and said he was julius. (creds to aster). he used to call it transforming instead of shifting and julius would be like THATS NOT WHAT ITS CALLEDDDDDDDDDDDDD.

"man, im bored... wanna go play fetch?" "ur hairs getting long... i'll take u to the dog groomers." "do u want a pedigree??"

THIS IS KINDA WHAT TREV LOOKS LIKE!! (awooga booga *hearts pop out of my eyes and my tongue drops out of my mouth and rolls across the grounf like a red carpet)

also this pic (ik it doesn't look like my darlin oc or Trev) is so them

DAMN CAN I YAP!!!

tags - (i lurv u guys)

@achios @aurorialwolf @infinitelovewiithoutfulfilmentt @tgckceo @astrodude-87 @krashkitty @cozy-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @porters-fangs @n0r

cus u guys eat up my hcs.

#redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted fandom #redacted headcanons #redacted oc

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 day

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So, How would the Wukong's react to S/O doing something kinda big for them. Like, they've been gone all day and come home to their partner making a dinner date and making sure everything's set up for them to relax together?

Awwww Date night🌹🥂💋💒

(Lmk Wukong) Oh he missed you terribly, you told him you were leaving early for work and that you would be late. Wukong was cool with it but hours and hours and hours later he saw it was it was getting late and he started to miss you, occasionally leaving texts you told him the same thing until you told him to meet him at the park. Wukong was very confused and soon he flew to the park and saw that....

A picnic😮!! Wukong gasped as you said surprise. He teared up and blushed and ran to hug you, he said thank you and he loves you as he sat with you on your date.

(MKR Wukong) He's in one of his moods, he woke up and saw that you weren't next to him. That already pissed him off because you didn't even leave a note. He of course ask if the pilgrims the saw you and they said no, pigsy teasing that maybe we got Tired of him which in return , he got a bruise shin. Luckily Fruity told him that we just went out and that will be back later, Which successfully calm him down. After a while you came back and he was ready to Interrogate you, when you told him that you had a surprise for him. Wukong was confused when he followed you later that night and saw a....

tea shop with a table outside, you told him that it was something nice to do since he's been moody and stress lately. He did look grumpy but the blush tells you he likes it😉😊

(HIB Wukong) You were gone the whole day, and ask Luier and Pigsy to distract Wukong which you went out with Silly girl. It worked for a bit since Luier's motor mouth was useful for once, but he was quick to notice that you weren't there and neither was silly girl. He would have freaked out, if you came back with Silly girl that Exact Second. He was relieved until you put a blindfold on him and told him that you were going somewhere, which confused him and felt you pulling him along. Then after a bit you told him to take of his blindfold and saw....

Fireworks?! you took him to see fireworks, a surprise date, for just the 2 of you. Wukong was stunned, but he pulled you close as a silent thank you.

(NR Wukong) He's pouting all over the garage. You had left for work in the morning which is ok whatever to him but it's around 5 and your still not home. He called and texted you a few times but he only got Voice-mail or has been left on read, now he rarely gets upset with you but it's slowly getting there until you ran in the garage excited. Wukong was Confused, relieved, but still a bit upset with you until you told him...

(You) WUKONG I GOT THE TICKETS!!!!🤩🤩🤩🤩

(Wukong) Tickets??? Tickets for what???🤨

You pulled out the tickets for...

(You) THE DEMOLITION DERBY BABY!!!!!!! PREPARE TO SPEND THE WEEKEND WATCHING CARS EXPLODE!!!!!!!!! I GOT FRONT ROW SEATS TOO!!!!!!!🤩🥳🤯

Wukong felt his anger disappear into thin air, And replace with excitement,Well that explains Why you did so much overtime for your job😊😊😊😊

(Netflix Wukong) He noticed something was missing, Something that's always supposed to be there. Or more like it became part of his life, and because of this feeling Wukong felt empty. He then went to tell Lin about this emotion and emptiness until she asked

(Lin) Did you see (Y/N) yet????

Then it hit him He didn't know if he talked to you at all today, he didn't even remember seeing you and you guys live in the same house. Wukong thanked Lin and went to look for you but he couldn't find you anywhere. He then slowly begin to panic as he had no idea where you are, he freaked out and teared up his thoughts being. Why didn't I pay attention?! What if she's hurt?! What if she got kidnapped?! What if she got sick of me and....abandoned me??😥🥺😭 Wukong Try to remain rational while stopping himself from crying. Then he noticed something on the cabinet, he ask ran and ask Lin to read it for him and it saids,

Wukong meet me by the market at 3 I have a surprise for you🙂

It was currently around 2:45 or something But he was too anxious to wait. So he left the house and went looking for you, he got to the market and saw you, and is that a CARNIVAL?!🎡

You greeted him and told him that a fair was In town and you wanted to spend the day with him in it. Wukong ran over and quickly hugged you tightly, happy to see you, feeling his heart slow down a bit Upon being in your presence. After that you both went in to have a blast😄🎊🎉

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG💋

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #date night

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cherrylng · 3 days

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Schwein interview - Sakurai Atushi and Raymond Watts [ROCKIN'ON (June 2001)]

Schwein, the Japan-German-UK trilateral industrial music collaboration - what's the story here?

Interview: Shunsuke Kosugi, Interpreter: Yoko Utsumi

Schwein is a group formed by industrial heavyweight PIG's Raymond Watts, Raymond's former colleague Sascha Konietzko of MDFMK, and Sakurai Atsushi and Imai Hisashi of BUCK-TICK. The members are from three different countries: Japan, Germany, and the UK, but the three groups that have come together are known for their activities that transcend national differences. BUCK-TICK's extremely Japanese song world is carried by an unusually cool Western sound, PIG incorporates samba rhythms into industrial music, and MDFMK showed a stage performance at Fuji that was like a motor with an unusually high revving speed. Their debut album, "Schweinstein," is an unusually high-tension work in which the elements of the three collide behind Sakurai's song world. In any case, this strangely distorted and captivating industrial world is one of a kind. It is a strange work that could only be possible with the combination of these three artists. Above all, Sakurai's ability to draw both PIG and MDFMK into his world is amazing. Schwein, which differs neither from BUCK-TICK, which is active against the backdrop of the so-called Japanese music situation, nor from a Western music band, is worth a listen. We spoke to Raymond Watts and Sakurai Atsushi.

First of all, please tell us how you came to form Schwein. Raymond Watts (R): 「A year and a half ago, I did a Japan tour with BUCK-TICK in PIG. During the tour, I started talking to the guys about various things, and before we knew it, we went into the studio together and decided to do something. I also asked Sascha from KMFDM and he said, "Let's do it", and before I knew it, this project was born. Imai, the guitarist of BUCK-TICK, and I had been in a band called Schaft before, and whenever I went to Japan we would go out for sushi together and hang out.」

What do you like about each other? R: 「The BUCK-TICK song I remixed before was an interesting song and the work itself was a lot of fun. It was also interesting to see how confused everyone was about this collaboration. The connection between BUCK-TICK, who is very active in the pop scene, and me, who has been working underground for a long time, is certainly a strange one. But we actually have a lot in common. We have a similar sense of humour, for example, and we have a similar approach to our work. We both need to be satisfied with the best in whatever we create.」 Sakurai Atsushi (S): 「That was my main question (laughs). He's a successful person in America also. But Raymond is someone who is always looking for new stimulation. He's always angry about something, he's always frustrated, he's always trying to destroy something. Well, he told me he wouldn't work with anyone he didn't like.」

What exactly are these frustrations? What are you trying to destroy with Schwein? R: 「I'm frustrated with Japanese music listeners. I mean, in Japan, there's a tendency to treat their own music differently from foreign music. It's a really stupid thing. Why is there such a gap between listeners who buy Western music like Limp Bizkit, Rage Against The Machine or KMFDM, and listeners who buy Japanese music like Luna Sea or BUCK-TICK? I have a hard time understanding it. When I buy music, I never pay attention to where the artist is from. It's really stupid. What is the point of describing one art form as inferior to another? It's really stupid. For example, if we said that American music is inferior to British music, we'd be sued for discriminatory remarks. I can't even say that one country's culture is inferior to another's. It's just a Japanese complex. Well, it's not like I don't know how you feel. For example, in the world of cinema, British films are always treated as secondary to Hollywood films, right? It's the same thing, isn't it? I actually prefer British films. But that's because we measure things by American standards. In other words, they're just comparing the amount of money they make.」 S: 「I don't listen to it because it's BUCK-TICK, or because it's PIG, or because it's MDFMK, but I also want more people to listen to it.」

Now I would like to ask Raymond, what do you think are the characteristics of Japanese rock that are not found in other countries? R: 「They wear a lot of heavy makeup. Don't you think so too?」

Yes, I do (laughs). What else? R: 「That's it.」

(laughs) Raymond, please tell us what you think are the characteristics of Sakurai-san and Imai Hisashi-san, respectively. (?) R: 「When I play him my song ideas and backing tracks, Atsushi sees them from ten different perspectives. Atsushi is a singer in the true sense of the word. He can express himself properly through his songs. I've never worked with a singer like this before, so it's very exciting to work with Atsushi. And with Imai, I'm attracted to the fact that he doesn't treat the guitar as a guitar. All the guitarists I've played with so far play a traditional style, but with Imai, he plays gorgeous noises that you can't believe are guitar sounds. I'm constantly amazed by Imai's skills.」

Raymond doesn't understand Japanese, does he? R: 「Yeah, that sometimes messes up communication within the band. But it's an old saying, but in these situations, music naturally becomes the common language.」

With the album "Schweinstein," I think it's more of a clash of your own characteristics rather than an exploration of compromises between each of you. Was this something that you guys intended to do? R: 「No, it wasn't really my intention, but I knew that when the four of us went into the studio together, we could expect strange things to happen and that we should be able to produce some strange work. I'm really excited by this kind of heterogeneous combination, this mixture of disparate personalities. Because the result can be something so bizarre that you would never have thought possible.」 S: 「It's exciting in that I want change, Imai wants change, and of course Raymond wants change. But every day was a struggle, wasn't it? It was a good opportunity for me to clear out some of the naivety in me.」

What are your plans for Schwein's future activities? S: 「I think we all intend to do that, though. We have our individual activities, but deep down we want to stay connected.」 R: 「I want to continue working in the future. First, we'll tour Japan in June, and then we'll each go back to work with BUCK-TICK and PIG. But I hope we can work together again next year or so, if we feel up to it. But it's a decision we make for ourselves, not one determined by record sales. We were very lucky this time. That's because we had a record company that was willing to take the risk and pay for a project like this that we didn't know would be successful or not. All four of us took the risk. But what is success anyway? If we make something good, I think it's a success.」

Translator’s Note: I want to thank yoshiyuuki for helping me in clarifying certain parts that stumped me, the first being the title of the interview and then a particular question.

(?) This part of the question stumped me at first when I extracted the text, because when I put it into Deepl and Google Translate, this was the result:

“(笑) 櫻井さん、今井寿さん、それぞれについてレイモンドの思う特徴を聞かせてください。”

“(laughs) Sakurai-san, Imai Hisashi-san, please tell us what Raymond thinks are the characteristics of each of you.”

But then I saw that it was Raymond who answered that question, so I figured out what the question should actually look like and rearranged the words to form a sentence that made more sense. And then I asked Yoshi if what I've done was a better result.

Please do support me on my Ko-fi! ☕

#Sakurai Atsushi #Raymond Watts #Schwein #BUCK-TICK #PIG #my scan #translation #interview #ROCKIN'ON #ROCKIN'ON June 2001

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to-thelakes · 1 day

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nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)

summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.

series masterlist

i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe

“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee.

You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.

Though, that had always been the case.

The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.

“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.

You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.

“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.

He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.

You hadn’t ever denied him anything.

You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing.

He had gotten so jumpy recently.

You tried to ignore it.

“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.

“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.

Lip passed it over without question.

Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him.

You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke.

But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.

Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.

“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.

Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.

Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.

You tried not to think about that though.

You were his friend.

You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.

“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.

He nodded.

“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.

“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.

Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.

“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.

It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.

But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.

Then you were back to normal.

Once the train had passed, you spoke again.

“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.

But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.

“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.

“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.

“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.

“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.

“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.

“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.

Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.

The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.

You tried not to think about it.

“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.

So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.

“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.

“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.

“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.

“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.

“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory.

#lip gallagher #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x you #lip gallagher x y/n #lip gallagher fanfic #shameless #shameless fic #shameless fanfiction #reader-insert #reader insert #lip gallagher fluff #lip gallagher angst

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sweetestcaptainhughes · 8 hours

Note

105. “You can’t make up for it by giving me a tic-tac.” This feels soo Jack Hughes coded.

oooo I couldn't agree more nonnie. very Jack Hughes coded. I love this prompt but I kind of hate how this turned out so I might rewrite this.

Drabble Masterlist.

"You can't make up for it by giving me a tic-tac."

It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still pissed you off. This was the second time you had plans with Jack and he forgot. The plans weren't a big deal, it's not like he forgot a date, your birthday, an anniversary. Tonight's plans were to come home after work and change into sweats and do absolutely nothing except watch more Vampire Dairies Jack's new obsession. But instead after a day of media and camp, he went out with the boys. It really wasn't that big of a deal but it still sucked that Jack forgot and that it was the second time it happened. Not in the mood to watch the Vampire Diaries anymore without him, you laid on the coach and watched one of your comfort films. A film that you always watched when you were upset because it always made you laugh.

Jack walked into the apartment yelling he was home. He dropped his gear where it goes, and took his sneakers off by the door. He walked into the family room kissing your forehead like nothing was wrong. But then he froze, he noticed what movie was on and immidately he was concerned. "hey baby. you okay?" he asks shyly as he moves your feet so he can sit on the coach next to you.

"yup" letting the 'p' pop as you continue to look forward refusing to even look in Jack's direction still. He starts to move his hands up and down your calves thinking he's bringing you comfort and in a way it is but you wanted to stay mad at him.

"what happened baby? You only watch this movie when your sad or pissed off cause it helps shut your mind off." His voice soft, he sounds like he has no idea that he was the reason you were watching this movie.

Finally turning to face him in an annoyed tone you ask, "do you know what today was?"

"uhh n-no." he stumbles out, his hands suddenly freezing on your legs.

"We had plans for the second time this week to binge Vampire Diaries and you forgot." Sighing at the end of your confession hating how you sounded.

"Y/N fuck I'm sorry. I forgot do you wanna watch it now?" he asks going to grab the remote from your lap.

"No."

"okay." he says softly and you can see an idea pop into his head as smiles wide at you reaching into his pocket. "Do you want a tic tac?" he asks showing you a brand new pack in his head.

All you can do is laugh because only Jack Hughes would try to fix this by giving you a tic tac. "You can't fix make-up for it by giving me a tic tac. Jack" A soft smile on your lips as Jack pulls you close to him for the first time since he sat down so your half on his lap.

"but there your favorite. And you asked me to pick you some up before I came home and I remembered." he pouts and all you can do is smile.

Taking your finger you lightly trace his bottom lip, "Thank you for remembering my tic tacs baby." you whisper before you can't resist anymore you peck Jack on his lips.

"I'm sorry about forgetting" he apologizes as soon as your lips leave his.

"I know. It's not a big deal. I just spent the entire summer with you, you deserve time with your teammates. I kind of overreacted, it's not like you didn't text me you were gonna go out. I'm sorry." you apologize too because it was a dumb reason to get mad.

"I still feel like shit for apologizing." he mumbles as he pulls you into a kiss.

"Well we can always feel like shit together and watch another movie." you suggest and although another movie is started on the t.v neither of you are paying attention too lost in each other to care what was on.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #jack hughes fic #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #hughes imagine #hughes fanfiction #hughes fanfic #schwritingsjh86

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sunflowersunite · 3 days

Text

Eremika post war headcanons

(in a world where the Rumbling wasn't Eren's fault and he can live well and happy)

once everything is over, EMA hugs one another so tightly that they might burst. They're a bundle of tears and laughter and dust, and they've done it.

Armin became an ambassador to help the island rebound from the catastrophe, whereas Eren and Mikasa returned to Paradis afterwards. That scene where we saw Mikasa leaving Marley after the war-- yeah, that's with Eren (all of him, not only his head). They ran away together, hands clasped, gear discarded. They stowed away on the first ship to Paradis.

They rebuild their old home in Shiganshina and stay there for a while, but as the island thrives, then realise that Shiganshina is getting too crowded. So they move to a cabin in the forest, secluded enough to be at peace. They visit Historia for lunch often (I mentioned Historia in other post war hcs too, and in my opinion, she's a must. Everyone visits Historia post war and they all dine together).

Mikasa doesn't wear her scarf anymore. She doesn't need it, Eren is with her, she sees him every morning and falls asleep knowing he's in the next room. She matures to realise that no one will take him away now. She feels safer. She tucks it away and wears it only in the winter.

They fall into a routine together, do chores, Eren hunts sometimes (Mikasa is better at it, but he stubbornly insists on doing it).

Neither touches on it, but they know that they're not kids anymore. They sense how different things between them are now.

Mikasa already knows how she feels for Eren, she's known for a long time, but feels like he needs space, since he hasn't said anything yet, nor has he revealed a wish for anything between them to change. It's enough for her that they're alive and together.

They're all awkward, they don't know what they are to each other.

Historia is fuming when Mikasa tells her that. "You two aren't together already??"

They turn beet red. Historia berates Eren and Mikasa separately ("don't you realise how much you mean to her/him? Come on, do something! We all knew since we were cadets!"), and they go home like punished schoolkids. They look at one another and crack a smile.

Eren knows how he feels but Mikasa deserves someone better and maybe he's not good enough and maybe he'll mess this up and how do people even do such things, how does he even ask her something like that, how does he tell her...?

Eren searches their old clothes and finds the scarf. He marches up to her, wraps it around her neck, remembering an old promise, and says "I'll wrap this around you, now and forever and as much as you want. For the rest of our lives."

Mikasa is startled and somewhat confused, so Eren has to say it out loud, face red. "I love you Mikasa. Marry me."

And she accepts. She locks him in a hug and spins him around. They get married that same day. They debated on waiting for Armin, but decided that enough was enough and also it was what Armin would have wanted.

Armin returns to visit them with the ambassadors after months. They're not waiting for them at the port, and he immediately knows where to look. He finds them under the tree.

EMA reunite and exchange their stories. ("took you long enough," Armin said. "Surprised you didn't get married first thing when you came home".)

They greet the rest of the ambassadors later. Jean has already started to heal and move past Mikasa, so he congratulates them happily (Eren and Jean drink a little more that night and fistfight, but it's okay because they're all together again).

Mikasa and Eren's firstborn is Carla, with Armin as her godfather.

Their second is Sasha. Connie cried when they announced him the name and asked him to be her godfather.

They grow old together. Levi still manages to kick Eren in the face despite being in a wheelchair. He tolerates their kids (he loves them but don't tell anyone). Hange becomes the crazy aunt (yeah Hange is alive too)

Did I mention they grow old together

They don't work out that much anymore because they live a life of peace. Their physique isn't that ideal anymore (they still look very good but yk) and they don't care. They have a garden and a home and their friends and their kids and each other. They don't want anything else anymore.

Armin tells the world their story. Eren and Mikasa have been asked to sign copies of the book sometimes.

They're buried under the tree but after a long and fulfilling life by each other's side.

#eremika #i started this like two months ago #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #eren x mikasa #eremika headcanon #attack titan #armin arlert #ema #attack on titan headcanons #imagine eremika growing old together #just imagine that #eremika fluff

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aladaylessecondblog · 3 days

Text

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 13

Author's Note: Tw for some blood. Jiub is a troll. For those looking for canon Sotha Sil behavior, boy are YOU gonna be disappointed

This one snuck up on me

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

One week, then two.

Jiub found his Venmo occasionally pinging with small amounts from Sadara, who sent apology notes in each one. Honestly, he didn't blame her, but he wouldn't say no to to the extra money. He turned her room into another grow spot and it was doing okay, but still not to the level that having her there to contribute to rent had.

She hadn't come back, but there hadn't been much for her to come back for. A dresser, a bed. Those handful of receipts from Suran in the trash can he still hadn't emptied.

The Waffle House was doing a little worse for her absence, at least in his opinion.

The new waitress was an ashlander, and icily polite to those with corprus. Maybe they weren't the best people, but their money spent like anyone else's, and he couldn't figure out why all of a sudden NOW Nibani would want to piss them off by instructing new employees to act like this. It had driven off a few of them, or at least he thought so - it was hard to tell some of the ash ghouls apart from one another.

A few of the ash creatures had asked where Sadara was. The new waitress didn't know; neither did Nibani, whose answer was, "She no longer works here."

Jiub kept silent; he sure as hell wasn't talking. Sadara had sent him a Discord message (she'd outright deleted Morrotwitter) asking him to not tell anyone where she was, and he'd kept to it.

She didn't hadn't added any specifics about what exactly had happened on her little trip to Red Mountain. He'd asked a second time and she replied, 'Nothing we're not used to hearing.'

For a few days after that she sent random pictures of gnarly wounds from fighting cliffracers and other wildlife, and then of the scars once she healed up. There were also a few pics of cliffracers being turned on a spit over a fire, and a little 'wish you were here this thing tasted great' message a couple days in row.

Then there started being images of the inside of some cave along the coast near Tel Fyr.

The Fyrs are paying me 200 gold a week for blood and plasma, apparently I'm RH null blood type. it's special or something. and being immune to corprus makes them want it too, so. Not doing too bad.

Sounds great. What's up with the cave?

Oh, it's near Tel Fyr. Easy access. There's some khajiit and argonians here too, cave's big enough to share, so we do.

How do you share a cave?

We just have bedrolls in different areas. I feel like I got the biggest spot because it used to be a slave pen and they don't want to sleep over here ever again. It's not that bad. We've even got pets.

the fuck kind of pets do you have over there? lost scribs?

couple of fat slaughterfish we feed fish and scraps to. One we call Betty White and the other we call Wilson. They try to bite us but honestly they're big enough it's hard for them to move fast enough for it. So they'll mainly just hiss and make noise until they get food.

"Excuse me, cook? Are you paying any attention to the food at all, or are you destroying my eggs on purpose?"

"Your eggs are fine," Jiub replied, tucking his phone away. The customer in question had come in a few times, and was - well, honestly, such a stick in the mud it was fun to tease him. He was very particular about his food, wanted his waffles turn an even number of times...so Jiub always made sure not to do that.

Sotha Sil himself. Not all that impressive, at least not to Jiub. He said he came there because the sound of the blight winds was relaxing, and when he needed relative silence this was a good place to have it.

And his fried eggs were always just slightly runny.

"Here, I'll redo 'em if you want, I was hungry anyway."

He handed a newly finished plate of waffles to the new waitress, who took them to another ashlander in the corner.

"Do you have no pride at all in your work?"

"I'm cooking eggs and waffles for 10 septims an hour, there is no pride in this work," Jiub replied with a shrug.

"You are an insubordinate imp--no. No, I will waste no more time on your shenanigans. This is not what I am here for. Just cook the food." Sotha Sil huffed, and turned back to the laptop in front of him.

It was a far cry from the nigh-emotionless construct Jiub had heard Sotha Sil described as. Something, it seemed, had set the man on edge...he'd asked a couple people if something had happened to set Sotha Sil off what he was usually like. Most people couldn't see such little things, little signs of being potentially angry, or annoyed, or any number of similar things. But due to long experience, Jiub was a master at seeing it.

He'd reached a point in his life where he was looking to get humbled again. His success with Almalexia had made him feel almost bored - if he could off her so easily (however temporarily it lasted), really, how much farther was there to go? Maybe Sotha Sil would be different. Maybe he'd be tougher, somehow...

How little a thing would it take to push him over and make him screech?

He could already hear Sadara's voice chiding him for it. You little troll, you just want your ass kicked, don't you?

Well. Maybe he did.

The waitress went outside to handle the garbage, and so Jiub was the one to deliver the plated food. He glanced down at the laptop, and saw a familiar sight.

A Pokemon battle.

And more importantly...

"Superiorsil? So it's YOU! I should've guessed," Jiub set the food down and went over to clean the stove.

"What do you mean, you should've guessed?" Sotha Sil's voice had turned accusatory.

Jiub turned back, and gave a deep smirk as he extended his hand. "Jiuberjabber. How ya doin'?"

A pause.

A long, uncomfortable pause.

And then, Sotha Sil - master of the monotone, king of the cutting politeness, suzerain of stony looks - leaped over the counter and wrapped both hands around JIub's neck.

Both mer crashed to the ground and despite the pain and increasing lack of oxygen all Jiub could do was laugh.

"You idiot--pathetic--little WORM!" Sotha Sil was snarling, "You broke my perfect record!"

"It's just a game, man," Jiub struggled, trying to get one hand into his back pocket. Still the laughter persisted, even harder because he saw how much it infuriated the mer above him. Or maybe it was due to the choking. "Don't take it so seriously."

He managed to get his trusty box-cutter out, and took a few stabs in the area of his opponent's ribs. Jiub and Sotha Sil wrestled about in this fashion another few minutes, getting the latter's blood all over the floor.

"What happened to the calm magus, huh?" Jiub, still giddy from the lack of air, went on, finally getting to his feet and backing away, box-cutter at the ready. "Oh, wait, you are what the people need you to be, right? I've read the sermons."

"That wasn't IN the sermons you illiterate cretin," Sotha Sil stood, his pristine white robe now utterly ruined. The stab wounds were healed over quickly, and he looked ready to fight--

--and then suddenly bristled, snatched a to-go box, stuffed the food he'd left uneaten into it.

"Come back soon," Jiub, still in the mood to tease, energized by the fight, blew a capricious kiss at the furious mer before him.

Sotha Sil left, muttering under his breath.

Jiub then looked at the ashlander in the corner.

"You gonna tell the Temple about that?"

"Who the fuck would believe me?"

Grumbling, and thinking he was far too sober for this, Jiub moved off to the bathroom to snort some skooma. Nibani would be in within an hour, and he needed the blood cleaned up by then. The waitress, utterly horrified by what she had just witnessed, didn't look like she was going to be staying long enough to do the job.

#jiub ruined sils pokemon showdown record #sil hates that jiub was able to rile him so easily #fanfiction #morrowind #nerevarine #jiub #sotha sil #sotha sil x jiub #tes #tesblr #elder scrolls #odd couple

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keelt9 · 3 days

Text

Chapter 10 (Final)

A/N: Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing. 🧡

I’ve been thinking about an epilogue but I don’t know, I don’t want to mess up anything, so I’ll keep that in mind.

I’ll write to you soon.🧡

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

Masterlist

The fireworks it's my item on the photo wall. Now every photo on my wall, metaphorically or literally has a firework on it.

"Ready?" Mom softly knocks my door perking in it.

It's the conference game for the championship, Joe didn't have to ask if I was going to be there or not.

"Yes, one second." I just revealed new photos for my wall and my favorite by far is the one his mother took from us playing under the moonlight in his parents backyard, a lot of snowballs.

Archie it's definitely at the limit of his excitement. Joe insisted we must watch the game from the box, so each second Archie expanded his smile. By the half of the game the Bengals were up by a touchdown and my throat feels pretty sore already.

All week Joe has been fully focused and still makes his time to call me from time to time, both of us have been busy with work lately.

"There you are!" Leah raises her phone, a picture of me chatting with Joe in his warm ups appears on the screen. "Joe Burrow's girlfriend on the field in a lovely moment."

I chuckle because the photograph took pretty well the angle of my kissing his lips as he pulls me by my waist.

"Joe definitely will want that." Mrs. Burrow hugged me with a proud smile.

The last quarter was a cardiac one; Bills came closer to them leaving them the Bengal up just for one point and our faces speak for ourselves, we're dying of nervousness.

A turnover of B.J let them keep the ball for the rest of the quarter, if the OL kept him covered he would work to increase the difference of points. Joe scanned the field with urgency feeling already tackles over him, he threw a dime finding Chase but with our bad eyes it seems he didn't get the ball before fall.

"I can't see." I hid on Peter's shoulder covering my eyes, hearing the awful silence.

>IT GOT HIM! First and goal for the Bengals.

The crowd in Paycor turns wild; when I lift my eyes, Joe is totally fired up, he just has to do what he knows, be him.

The final score light on 31-24, they're the Champions of the AFC one more time; in the box screams and claps couldn't wait. Neither I, who runs down to the field, can't wait for him.

As I reached the field a lot of family and friends were coming too. Among the crowd cameras and reporters I found Joe congratulating Zach, by the time he opened his eyes I was already waiting for him.

"Babe!" He let his helmet go down and lift me in a big hug. "You did it!"

He breathes in on my neck as I close my eyes feeling so distant the noises and cameras of us.

"Go, I just want to hug you but people are waiting for the champions." He chuckles, kissing me deeply.

"Don't you dare to move from here." He said point where I'm standing. "Love you!"

Seeing him standing with a trophy however looking for me in the crowd confirms, some risks are totally worth it.

Pam surprised me with balloons falling from the door, a cake in her hands and a loud “Happy birthday!”

“Make a wish!” I close my eyes blowing the candle. “Yeah.” Pam leaves the cake on my desk and hugs me softly.

“Thank you.” I hug her and I see the bag on my chair. “Pam.”

“Open it. I hope you like it.” I took the bag immediately and I knew what it was.

“Oh my, you don’t have too.”

Months ago when we were doing our Christmas shopping I saw an old camera in an antiquity store. I refused to buy it because the shoppings was left me without money but Pam has a good memory.

We chat a while before we have to come back to work about my plans for the day and if my family is coming.

“You’re parents?” I shake my head. My parents want to come but in 3 weeks I have a Monday off so I decided to go home for the weekend. “Peter is out of question, kid in the school. Joe?”

After the loss of the Super Bowl, Joe decided to spend that week alone. He explained to me right now, not even from himself is the most nice company and doesn't want to ruin my birthday. That’s the issue, the SB, turns out to be a weekend before your birthday.

“Joe is busy with all the post things game.” I tried not to sound concerned but Pam knows me well.

“Still mad?” Pam sits one more time.

“It’s not mad, he has been a little too hard on himself.” The knock on my door interrupted our talk.

In the door appear a big bouquet of flowers and a balloon, and an amazing writer holding them.

“Happy birthday!” Lucy enters pulling her boyfriend who is holding a box with a big ribbon on the top of it.

“Lucy! I thought you'd come until next week.” I stand for she and her boyfriend wish me a happy birthday.

“I am, this is a small…” She thinks in her words. “Stop.”

Her boyfriend laughed and explained she didn't want to miss my birthday even if it’s just for giving me a hug.

“I hope you like it, if Lucy gave enough time, I could do something better.” I open the box inside an embroidered sweater with my favorite colors.

After all it seems it’s going to be a good day. “It’s fantastic and the flowers, perfect, thank you so much.”

Claire orders me that if I don't take the day of my birthday at least I should go home earlier and rest, but Lucy warns me about something she will bring and I want to progress in all I can. By 7 pm, I found Claire leaving the office too. She scolded me about not leaving earlier, and still she wished me a happy birthday.

“I’m talking seriously Y/N, the food will arrive at your apartment. I’ll know if you don’t go right there.” Claire “threatened” me with her cellphone while walking to her car. “Don't make me take away your promotion.” I giggle, waving my hand to the other side of the parking lot.

As I get in the elevator I keep replaying the video of Archie singing me a happy birthday as my brother plays the piano and Nora signs along with him too; at the end Archie walks closer to the camera holding it blowing a kiss, “I love you aunt” was the last thing you could hear.

Probably I should do what Claire told me and leave earlier for rest; my neck is really tense, while I walk to my apartment I grab it and move in circles trying to make it more loose.

Inside a warm light it’s in the middle of the hallway, as you walk closer you can see it’s a cupcake with a candle.

“I’m sorry that is not enough, right?” Joe appears in one of the doors of the bedroom, puffy eyes sing that he probably hasn’t slept well.

I choke my head and open my arms. “Isn’t even necessary, I understand.” Joe sighs deeply. “However, I don't mind a birthday hug.”

Joe chuckles and lifts me in one big hug, hiding his face on my neck. “Happy birthday babe.” He whispered to me.

"I need that photo." After a long days of endless activities Joe finally has a day of rest before another week of meetings and talks begins.

"That's mine, sorry." I show him the new pictures on my wall, especially the one of the warm ups of the Championship.

It’s late at night, Joe had me next to him, my legs over his lap. In a quick move he tried to take the photo of my hands so now I'm completely under him.

"Ok, ok, god, you're heavy! But one condition." He narrowed his eyes.

"Anything." A mischievous smile makes him choke his head, grabbing my things as he sits back with me in his laps.

"No! It's not that! Oh my god!" He clicked his tongue. "Be serious with me.”

Joe shakes his head and nods. "Don’t be so hard on you." Joe grabs my face pulling out foreheads closer.

"I love you." He kisses my lips then looks straight to my eyes; I see his blue eyes full of love.

I kiss his forehead. "I love you too.” I take a deep breath grabbing his face. “You know I do anything for that smile right?"

"Yes ma'am, now give me the photo." I laughed and gave him the photo winning a breathless kiss.

The next morning Joe was surprised about the fact I actually didn't take a day off for my birthday not before and of course not after it.

“But it’s your birthday.” I’m searching my blazer in the closet as he follows me like a lost puppy.

“Was, it was my birthday.” I found it. “I have to go, but hey, in 3 weeks I have a day off and I’ll be Cinncinati, ok?”

I give him a peck before going. “No, no, no, wait.” He grabs my hand. “Are you sure? I mean…” He tosses his hair. “I have to go this afternoon, I was expecting to celebrate…”

“I promise, now I have to go or I’ll be late.” I check my watch. “Love you!” I scream before closing the door Joe pouting waving his hands.

Like Lucy promised, as soon as she “officially” came back, she entered my office with papers of multiple colors in her hand; she said she had a lot of ideas but nothing clear, so she was hoping for a helpful eye. That’s how I spend 3 weeks between Lucy’s work and a few manuscripts I have to deliver to Claire.

“Anyway, I’ll be a call away, ok?” It’s my last call of the day. “Yes, Lucy, I got it.” Pam enters her purse on her shoulder ready to go. “Ok, bye.”

I laid back in my chair hearing Pam giggle. “Are you leaving today?” I move my finger, yes.

I bought my ticket for the middle night, hoping to spend a little bit more time with Joe but out of the blue he has to do his chek ups out of Cincinnati, he expects to be there in 2 days.

“My bags are there.” I point to the corner of my office, Pam laughs. “I’ll call a cab after going to dinner.”

“Let’s go, this is on me.” Pam stands grabbing my bags.

In the elevator both of us realize this is the first time she and I take an extra day at the same time.

“You think Clare is going to be fine?” Pam asks, we look at each other and chuckle.

By the morning, I have 6 hours of sleep and a stomach growling. When I go down I see my parents making breakfast.

“What are you doing here?” Mom scoffed at me moving around the kitchen.

“Good morning to you.” Dad laughs taking out from the oven bread for sandwiches. “The coffee shop has a little issue.”

I look at them, dad nods and clarify. “We’re painting so it’s been closed for a couple of days, nothing serious.”

Mom put a plate with fruit in front of me. “What are your plans for the day?” I sit turning around in the stool.

“I was expecting to have a full day with my boyfriend, then go to have dinner with Leah but apparently they’re busy.” My days off aren't going as I plan. “So nothing, do you have something in mind?”

My parents look at each other like they’re in trouble. “You have plans, right?”

“Mrs. Carmichael, invite us to domino night, so we’re hoping…not it’s ok we can cancel it.” I shake my head, I don’t want to ruin my parents night.

“No, please go, I’ll find out what to do. Tomorrow we can spend the day together.” My dad kissed the top of my head.

“We hope that.” I narrowed my eyes, they probably had plans too.

My day passed watching old films, cleaning my old room and sleeping from time to time; my parents were ready to go around 9 pm, arguing about something in the coffee shop.

“You should check it before closing.” Mom complains coming downstairs.

“I’ll go and meet you with Mrs. Carmichael, don’t worry.” Dad tried to calm her but her eyes only scream more anger.

I roll my eyes. It seems I finally have the chance to do something else. “What happened?”

Mom sighs. “Your dad forgot the keys of the house in the coffee shop and guess what? Yes, from the car too.”

Mrs. Carmichael doesn’t live more than 2 blocks away, so her anger must be because they have to wake me up to getting in.

“It’s all right, I will go for them, besides I want to have dinner outside.” Mom was about to complain. “I’ll go change and go, don’t worry.”

I ran upstairs and didn't give them time to replay something. “My keys are on the table next to the door!”

As I get down from the cab I notice the curtains down but still, a glimpse of light, if dad leaves the light on and mom finds out, he will be in trouble. I shake my head and giggle as I walk to the door.

But there were no bright lights on as I think, it was a new type, small light bubbles hanging in the ceiling, and a few papers too. As I walk closer the bubble lights help to see there aren't papers hanging on the wall, it’s actually polaroids.

“What the…” I grab one and turn around, the photo is me and Joe, laughing with the Christmas tree at our back. The second one I grab it’s us in pjs watching movies on his sofa. The third one is a selfie he took, me at his back reading some papers.

Then a soft music is heard on the piano, “Enchanted”; at the window Joe is sitting there playing the piano, above him three small light bubbles hanging from the ceiling. He turns slightly, smiles at me and turns back and keeps playing until the last notes.

I clap for him as he recalls sitting with a slight tremble in his hands.

“Beautiful.” I raise my sight seeing the ceiling cover with photos. “All of it.”

Joe chuckles. “Even so, I’m hoping to get my favorite one soon.”

“Is it not here?” I narrow my eyes, he shakes his head pointing to the back, at the other side of the coffee shop.

“There is a peek of what I want. The one with the red ribbon.” I smile at him walking where he’s pointing.

On the way I saw a lot of photos I had never seen before, some taken by him and others, probably a good contribution of friends and family.

I see the red ribbon. “This one?” Turning around to face him, he nods.

In the photo, I can see Joe in a jewelry shop looking at something in the glass cabinet, full focus.

“Mhm, new diamonds?” I don’t understand. “Hey, I love how that sunglasses looks on you.”

I take a closer look at the photo, slowly noticing the details. “No…This is not, rig…”

I see what he wants me to see.

Joe is standing in front of me with a black velvet box biting his lips; my hands start to shake as any coherents words come, just mumblings keeping my fingers stuck to my lips.

“Joe?” He giggles and opens it, inside there is a ring that emits a soft golden glow.

The band is simple and elegant with clean lines, at the center a captivating tanzanite sparkles, its blue-violet hues shifting with the light. .

“Will you marry me?” I cover my face sitting on the floor, he laughs and sits in front of me too.

I asked him with tears in my eyes. “What should I do?”

Joe shuggers his shoulders. “A yes will be an amazing answer.” I look at him, he chuckles. “But it’s your choice after all.”

I hug him so tight as he extends his legs for I can sit on his lap, feeling his heartbeat so fast, it just feels like being at home, safe and protected.

“Are you going to put it on my finger or what?” I laugh and split slightly, facing him. “Yes, I will.”

In Joe's face appears a side to side smile and a tear roll from his face, he grabs my hand and puts the ring on kissing my lips, in a tender way.

“This fits perfectly.” I said to him looking at my new ring.

“Thank god because Chase was pretty judgy that day.” Both of us laugh. The idea of him and Joe searching for a ring is hilarious.

“I actually didn’t mean the ring.” He narrowed his eyes. “Well, I got a promotion, in which Claire said I can work remotely if I want too.” His eyes are bright. “Don't be over excited, I still have to go to the office frequently.”

He grabbed my face and kissed me one more time. “So, Joe Burrow, will you be my home?”

Joe bites his lip, tingles his finger with mine. “Always.”

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

Almost forgot, any request, it’s now open.

#joe burrow #joe shiesty #fic #fanfic #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fic #joe x reader “joe burrow fan fic #joe brrr #joseph lee burrow

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eringobragh420 · 2 hours

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Pairing: Damian Priest x f!Reader Summary: Damian’s girlfriend is producing a piece on him. He decides to produce a piece of his own. Warnings: NSFW, obviously, lol. Spanish translations are at the end of the story. I do not speak Spanish, so if anything is incorrect, please let me know and I’ll fix it! Roleyplay, name-calling, dirty talk, sex, oral (m and f receiving), cum. Taglist: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend, @terrortwinunicorn. If you’d like to be added, please let me know! Requested By: @eddiesrockstargirlfriend. Hope you enjoy! Sorry it took so long 😭😭

“Alright, guys. I’m Damian Priest. Thanks for watching.” He threw up his index and pinky fingers just before his girlfriend pressed the button on the expensive camera to stop it recording.

“Outstanding,” she praised. Kneeling on the soft, white carpet of their home, she sat back on her legs as she played the footage back on the screen to be sure nothing weird was in the frame, and that the sound levels were normal and Damian’s voice came through clearly. WWE had tasked her as a producer (and probably because the two had been dating for a year) to create an intimate look into Damian’s private life. Which hadn’t been much, considering neither of them were in any hurry to show off their personal lives to the entire world. Despite this, she knew she had a good product. “Looks like we got it.”

“Yeah?” Damian asked. “Let me see.” She handed him the camera and busied herself with packing the camera’s accessories into the bag beside her. After a moment, she realized the only sound in the room was coming from the constant hum of the air conditioner. Glancing up at Damian, he held the camera in both hands, eyes on the screen as if he were watching the playback, but she didn’t hear his voice.

“Are you watching it?” she asked. “Is the sound not working?”

“It’s fine,” he replied, distracted. “I’m watching … you know …” He trailed off, eyes narrowing, focused.

Her own eyes blinked down at the camera’s lens, brows furrowed. “Is that zoom—are you recording?” she exclaimed. Damian grinned behind the camera, shoulders shaking as he chuckled, and he leaned this way and that as if he were some famous director with a particular vision. “Do I really have to tell you that the camera isn’t a toy?” she teased, dropping her hands on her hips.

“Aww, querida, you know that’s not true,” Damian purred, his tone hitting that one level, the special one, the one that drew her to him like a moth to a flame. “Everything’s a toy if you play with it.”

“So, by that logic …” She leaned forward, bringing her hands to the floor, and she started to crawl toward Damian “I’m a toy.”

“My toy,” Damian sneered.

Her mouth quirked. “Your toy,” she corrected. Damian spread his legs wider to accept her between them, and she tucked her own legs under her like she’d been sitting before.

“And right now—” He reached out, able to hold the lightweight camera with one hand, and cupped her cheek, caressing her skin with his thumb. “—I wanna make my toy into a pornstar.”

All the oxygen left her lungs in an audible whoosh, her heart kicking up its pace. Before she could give the idea much thought, and before she could process the fact they would be using a WWE-issued camera, she nuzzled into the palm of his hand, pressing a few chaste kisses there before licking the heel, all the way up his thumb where she enveloped the digit in her mouth.

“That’s it,” Damian said, pumping his thumb leisurely in and out of her mouth. “You like that idea, don’t you?” She watched as the twinkling stars always present in Damian Priest’s ochre eyes were devoured by growing black holes, and she’d have given anything to see just beyond his event horizon. “You wanna be a pretty little pornstar?” She nodded, eyes round and clear, mouth still working on his thumb. “Good girl,” he praised, and her heart melted, eyes falling closed. “But you gotta audition first.” Her eyes opened just as slowly as they’d closed, meeting his gaze. “You understand?” He removed his thumb from her mouth, and while she was able to speak now, she couldn’t find the words within her hazy, lust-filled brain, so she simply nodded again. Damian tilted his head, “Now take my cock out and show me why you’re better than all the other girls I’ve met this week.”

She admired—and was a little envious of—how easily he was able to go from her loving, devoted boyfriend to the intimidating, apparently manwhore porn director that now sat before her. How he was able to come up with roleplay ideas off the top of his head and was confident enough to act them out as if the scenario was real-world.

“Corazón,” Damian said, “don’t make me tell you again.”

Her hands reached up to work on his belt and jeans, glancing up at the camera, biting her lip, and all she could see of Damian behind the camera were those black eyes. Reaching inside his jeans, she unleashed his semi-hard cock, a grin working its way across her mouth. She loved the challenge of getting him as hard as possible as quickly as possible and she wondered how much assistance the camera was going to give her in said endeavor. Lifting her gaze back to the camera, she engulfed his entire dick in her mouth, a feat she could only achieve before he was fully erect. She dragged her lips back slowly, cheeks collapsing as her mouth created a vacuum, and Damian let loose a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Damn,” he said, “you just go all in, huh?”

She released him with an indecent pop, licking her lips even more lewdly. “Go big or go home, right?” she purred.

“Back in your mouth,” he ordered.

She obeyed, because she loved to obey him, and because she really, really wanted this fake pornstar job. She sucked him back into her searing mouth, lips now stretching around him, bobbing her head. The distinct sound of the head of his dick poking into the back of her throat—that wet, smacking sound—echoed off the walls of their bedroom. Damian cried out, hand slipping around the back of her head, and he fisted a handful of her hair. She grunted, sending vibrations down his cock and into his balls, allowing him to control the pace, which continuously increased. She squeezed his thighs for stability, looking up at him just as tears fell from both eyes and streaked down her cheeks.

“Fuck yeah,” Damian groaned. Her scalp was going numb and her throat was sore and she was drooling all over herself, all over his cock, and, pornstar or not, she never wanted to lose the role of his toy. “Fucking love this, don’t you?” he breathed. “You’d do it even if you weren’t getting paid, huh?” He impaled her throat, holding her there, moaning and mumbling obscenities every time she coughed or gagged. “Puta de mierda.”

He released her, and she yanked herself back, gulping for air, choking on the excess saliva. She was positive she was an absolute mess right now, and it wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined looking the first time they recorded themselves, but this was them. Rough, hot, dirty, needy, and greedy. Damian jerked his soaked cock as she caught her breath, and after a moment, her mouth was back on him, sucking on the head as he continued to stroke.

“I bet you’re wet as fuck chokin’ on this dick,” he went on.

Matter of fact, she was, and, though her mind was foggy, she thought this might have been the first time she’d even noticed her own arousal. So focused had she been on pleasing Damian and getting the job, she didn’t remember once squeezing her thighs for relief. Flexing one thigh and then the other, she readily felt the slickness between her folds and she whined around Damian’s cock.

“Yeah, that’s why I thought,” he snarled. He pulled his dick from her mouth, slapping her cheek with it. “You know I gotta taste that pussy, right?” Breathless, the producer on her knees at the mercy of the World Heavyweight Champion once more could only nod. “Get up here, on your back.”

Damian stepped out of her way, and she climbed onto the bed, rolling onto her back. She reached up to wipe her face off, not able to get much before her boyfriend shoved the camera into her hands. She was turning it around and about to adjust the screen so she would more easily be able to see what she was recording while holding the camera above her when Damian snatched the waistband of her leggings and wrenched them down her thighs. He then shoved her knees to her chest, legs still trapped in spandex, and she felt him rip aside her thong a millisecond before his tongue delved deep into her folds.

“Jesus Christ,” she cried, crossing one ankle over the other. She still maintained a grip on the camera, but where it was pointed she had no idea, as her eyes snapped shut and she thought for a second she did see Jesus Christ.

“Goddamn,” Damian burst. “Goddamn you taste good.” She whimpered, feeling the pad of his finger slide from the top of her clit to the bottom, and then she heard the very recognizable sound of him sucking his finger clean. He tugged the leggings the rest of the way off, tossing them over his shoulder, and then he crossed his arms, grabbed the bottom of his shirt with both hands, and smoothly lifted it over his head.

As Damian stood there in all his el campeón glory, his girlfriend fumbled with the camera, barely getting a shot of him before he grabbed her legs, spread them, and dove face first into her pussy. He licked and sucked with reckless abandon, nipped at her clit, and had her a writhing, sobbing mess almost immediately. A few times she struggled to keep her eyes open so she could watch the screen on the camera, watch Damian devour a bare, glistening pussy, watch the sex tape unfold in real time.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” she divulged, gripping the sheets with her free hand. “I’m gonna cum …” Damian groaned, somehow digging deeper in her pussy, his long tongue slipping inside her. And just as she was about to tumble over the edge, Damian was gone, her pussy suddenly cold and unstimulated. She lifted her head and moved the camera.

“What, you think we’re here for you?” Damian snarled, hands on his hips. Her eyes trailed down his chiseled chest to his swollen, weeping cock, and she unknowingly licked her lips. “Roll over,” he nodded at her, fisting his dick. Damian took the camera from her, and she rolled onto her stomach. “Up on your hands and knees.” She complied, body popping up on all fours, knees spreading, and he was on her instantly, slapping his cock on her ass. “I’m comin’ in raw,” he growled, and while she already knew this to be the case, hearing him say it in this scenario utterly flooded her pussy, and she whined. She pressed back against him. Damian chuckled, deep and throaty, much like villains in the superhero movies. He pulled her pink thong to the side, squeezing her ass cheek. “All you bitches are the same. Look at me.” She glimpsed him over her shoulder, sighing, still unable to believe she’d landed such a god among men in the first place. He held the camera at chest level and it was trained on her. “Tell me what I wanna hear.”

“Please fuck me,” she whispered. “I don’t care if you pay me—” He slid his cock back and forth along her dripping slit, coating it in her slick, and then he slipped it between her ass cheeks, continuing the same motion. “I don’t care if I get the job.” Damian’s eyes met hers, and in her peripheral, she saw him adjust the angle of the camera. “I just need you to fuck me. Please?”

Damian grinned, shaking his head, and he sheathed his entire cock inside her, shoving her forward onto her elbows, and she yelped. On any other day, he’d have stretched her to prepare her for his size, but not this Damian. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he roared, pulling almost completely out before shoving himself inside again, repeating the action a few times. He reached over her and placed the camera on the bed in front of her. She twisted the screen to see what was in the frame, and it was her in the foreground, bent over, Damian behind her, the material of her pink thong wrapped around his hand. “Maybe you’ll get the job after all.” He fucked her earnestly now, a steady, pounding pace. “Fuck,” he whispered.

“Please,” she whined.

“Say it,” he said. “I know you want it … I wanna hear you fucking say it.”

“God,” she whimpered, “cum inside me. Please cum inside me.” Damian grunted, his thrusts becoming more powerful, faster. “I need it,” she continued, not sure if she was laying it on so thickly for her boyfriend or the camera. “I don’t need the job, I just need your fucking cum.”

“Fuck!” Damian shouted. One final pump and he was unloading inside of her.

She laid her head on the mattress and looked at the camera, satisfied and smiling, reveling in the sensation of his cock contracting within her. “Thank you,” she purred.

Damian grabbed the camera, and she looked at him over her shoulder again. She giggled, shivering, as he probed her pussy with his fingers. “Look at that,” he said, and at the moment, she felt his cum seep out of her hole and down her slit. “Good girl.” He stood up, jeans and belt still hanging loosely on his hips. “Now get out. I got more interviews.”

** Querida - Dearest/Beloved, term of endearment ** Corazón - Sweetheart ** Puta de mierda - Fucking slut

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