#on a side note when my coworker asked me if i was fine the other day and i said 'im fine its just the horrors' she laughed so loud

[frostedpuffs]

this isnt funny but it also is but god i was trying to put my makeup on in the middle of a Hot Girl Breakdown Session (yknow where you wanna look cute but are also dying inside at the same time) and there were tears ACTIVELY STREAMING DOWN MY FACE but still i was so determined to FINISH MY MAKEUP AND GET READY FOR WORK IN TIME but it was like the most hilarious process of: ok lets do the eyeliner wing. oops i cried that one off. lets try again. ok smudged that one. can we try some mascara maybe? oh great now my tears are black and all over my face. there is mascara dripping in my eyeballs and it hurts but that's fine we'll get through this. it was TRULY the emo girl era in my bathroom. i was like laughing at the absurdity of it and crying at the same time. in the end i cleaned my face and ended up with a really decent makeup look anyway so sometimes you have to suffer for the craft I GUESS

[pipwritesoccasionally]

perfect little family

dad!nanami x mom!reader

in which your daughter visits you at work and your perfect husband comes with her!

warnings: fem!reader

higuruma mention because i love him too

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

the day started off ordinarily. you’d gone to work as you always did, even stopping by the bakery next to your daughter’s daycare to pick up a croissant. it was hot and buttery, just how you liked it, and it lessened the feeling of dread that came from working in a law firm every day. 

“good morning!” you exclaimed to the assistant at the front desk, who smiled right back. you’d been good friends since you’d started working in the firm three years prior. 

“good morning (y/n)! how was your weekend?”  

“not long enough. the kiddo decided that she didn’t want to get any sleep, so kento and i were going a little mad. luckily, she’s at daycare for the day, so i can get some peace and quiet while at work,” you recalled, feeling some of the exhaustion seep back in. 

“i know right! my twins wouldn’t sleep through the night for months at a time and i thought i would pass out right here at my desk.” 

“i can’t imagine what we would do if there were two of her. she’s so cute, but she can be a menace. if kento weren’t around to help her i think i’d just have to quit working.” you loved bringing up your wonderful husband, as he truly was the person who made everything alright in the world. 

“i’m so jealous!” one of your coworkers groaned as they walked by. “when do we get to meet this perfect husband of yours (y/n)?” 

“sorry, we’ve just been so busy lately! no one told me the terrible twos last until they turn four! i promise i’ll get him to come out sometime!” you apologize, knowing that your coworkers have been begging to meet kento ever since you began working here. you two were a more private couple, so you didn’t really have pictures of him on your desk. just some notes from him or your daughter, as well as a calendar with all of the important dates on it. 

“oh (y/n), higuruma said he left some papers on your desk to fill out before your meeting in an hour.” your friend at the front desk said, and you thanked her before heading there to fill them out. 

the stack was menacing, but you got it all done, and ran to meet with your boss and the other attorneys of your firm. you slid the door open and shuffled to sit in your seat. higuruma gave you a slight smile in acknowledgement, and you smiled back. you’d become something like friends in the few years you’d worked at the firm, so at least he was a friendly face. 

“alright, i’m here to make sure we’re all on the same page about the client we’re defending before our meeting with them on thursday.” your boss began, before making his way through the information in the documents you had been given earlier. 

he was in the middle of talking when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. you grabbed for it, meaning to shut it off, before realizing it was from your daughter’s daycare. 

“excuse me, i need to take this. it’s about my daughter. sorry!” you exclaim, rushing out the door of the meeting room and answering the call. 

“hello! is this (y/n)?” a cheerful voice on the other side spoke. 

“yes it is! is something wrong?” 

“your daughter seems to be not feeling well, and she keeps asking for you. is there any way you can come pick her up?” you frowned, remembering that she had been fine this morning. not to mention the fact that your schedule was jam packed all day, and that missing these meetings would severly affect your performance in front of the client. 

“i’m so sorry, my schedule is entirely full. however, my husband kento should be home today, is there any way you can call him?” 

“of course! we’ll call him right now,” the daycare worker says, and hangs up. you sigh, and head back into the meeting. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

hours later, you were in another meeting, this time with some new attorneys, as your boss had asked you to discuss your firm’s processes when it comes to civil or criminal trials. you were currently presenting in front of a group of ten, when a knock echoed across the room. the group went silent, and the closest attorney stood to open the door. 

as soon as the door was open a crack, someone pushed it open and ran over to you. 

“mama! mama!” a little figure ran across the room and threw herself at you, barely making it so you could catch her. she had kento’s brown eyes and (h/c) hair, making her instantly recognizable as your daughter. 

“sweetheart, what are you doing here?” you whisper at her, placing her on your hip. 

“i wanted to see you, so daddy said we could come see if you were busy! but then the lady at the front desk said you were here in a meeting, so i came to see you!” she smiled, her grin showing the spot where she’d lost her first tooth a month ago. 

“well we can’t play right now, but you’re welcome to watch me present if you can sit quietly in that chair over there.” you point at the empty chair, but she shakes her head. 

“no mama! i want you to hold me,” she pouts, and you know that you have to give in. you sigh, before standing straight and grabbing the control for your powerpoint. 

“slight change of plans. this is my assistant, (d/n), and she will be helping me present.” you tell the other attorneys, who are holding back laughter, before continuing your presentation. 

once it’s over and the other attorneys begin to pack up, you take your daughter’s hand and lead her back to the lobby, where your husband is surrounded by a group of your coworkers, including the one from earlier. 

“so, what brings you to the firm?” one woman giggles, clearly infatuated with him. 

“my wife works here,” he says, pushing his glasses up with his hand to show off his wedding band. 

“wife??? who’s your wife??” one of the other women exclaims, but at that moment your daughter chooses to run at him in a full spring. 

“DADDY!” she exclaims, “THE LAWYER PEOPLE SAID I WAS REALLY PROFESSIONAL DURING MAMA’S MEETING!” 

“were you now?” he says, placing her on his hip. “where is your mama anyways?” 

“i’m right here,” you say, and the group of women turn to face you. 

“(y/n)?? he’s YOUR husband??” the coworker from earlier says, and you nod. 

“how can you not have pictures of him on your desk?? he’s gorgeous!” she yells, and you laugh. 

“he mostly takes pictures of me and (d/n), but it’s more of just a safety thing so people don’t find out where he and (d/n) live.” you reply, smiling. you walk past them to your husband, who pulls you into his other side immediately. 

“hi darling, sorry about her,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your temple. you hear a chorus of squeals behind you, and your friend from the front desk asking them to disperse, but you pay them no mind. 

“it’s no big deal. i think the new attorneys were less stressed out because she was there.” you poke your daughter on the nose, and she giggles. 

“anyways, we should probably get going. when will you be home?” kento asks, and you rest your head on his shoulder. 

“early today, i just have one meeting left and then i’m done. so in around two hours?” you feel the vibration of his chest as he hums. you pull away and step back towards your office, still facing your little family. 

“alright (d/n), say bye to your mom,” kento says, and your daughter waves with an enthused “BYE MAMA!”

you wave back, watching them leave. nothing could compare to the feeling of your perfect little family.

[southernbluebellereader]

Peach Pie and Cream

Jack Reacher x F! Southern Waitress Reader (Amazon TV show, Alan Ritchson)

Warning: Some fighting, suggestive descriptions, cutesy

Summary: Our giant man Reacher meets a charming young waitress :) and takes care of people ;)

Word Count: ~2,115 words

A/N: There will be a part 2 eventually lol

Master List - Tag List Sign-Up (tags at the bottom)

“What can I get you, sugar?”

God, the way she called him “Sugar” practically dripped from her lip-gloss covered lips like hot honey. Her breasts threatening to spill out of her lacy unpadded bra - it’s dark color barely showing through her low-cut white top.

He knew not to look, he shouldn’t, he couldn’t.

But one peek wouldn’t hurt.

It wasn’t even seven-thirty in the morning when she’d walked over to him with a pen and a little notepad.

Reacher sat up, his body erect as she spoke so sweetly to him. His eyes quickly glanced at her bosom, then made eye contact with her, showing a crooked smile, “Good morning, what are your specials?”

Y/N gave him a small smile as she caught the flicker in his eyes as he lifted them to meet yours. “Our breakfast specials include the garlic biscuit sliders with chicken, sausage, or ham…” She leaned over slightly and pointed on the menu on the table at the various specials.

Y/N’s perfume smelled so sweet. Hints of peaches and vanilla.

No. He can’t be distracted. He had to meet Neagly later. 

He smiled as he looked back up at her, he didn’t hear half of what Y/N just said about the menu, just glancing at the worn out name tag that said her name. Her cheeks blushed slightly as he looked at her, the two of them were rather close.

Smiling at her, he asked, “I’ll have the garlic biscuit with the sausage special. Can I get extra bacon and a slice of your peach pie?”

“Yes, sir, you can. You want ice tea or coffee to drink?”

“Coffee is fine. Just black.”

She quickly glanced down at his large and firm chest and then back up at his eyes. He smirked even more.

Y/N bit her lower lip and then stood upright, writing his order down, “Sure thing, honey. I’ll be right back in a few.”

And those few minutes took an eternity. Reacher’s thighs began to itch as he watched her walk back to the back counter, leaning over so she could give the chef his order through the heating lamps, blushing in playful annoyance, with the cook winking and pursed lips, making kissing noises at her until she rolled her eyes and sighed, shaking her head.

He barely knew her but the sight of the cook irritated him. That’s no way to treat you - even if it was banter between coworkers. He’d been in town for merely a few hours.

He tried to look away. He really did. But the way her hips swayed and her chest moved, her apron tight and snug around her waist, her soft body spilling out from the sides of the apron and the top of her jeans. Every time she stood by a table to take an order, she always shifted her weight to her left, her left hip pushing out of the top of her jeans.

He always liked a full woman.

Chuckling to himself, he turned slightly to keep himself from boring holes on her ass. He glanced out the window but was thankfully disturbed by the smell of her and the food he ordered.

“Here we got today’s special with extra bacon and a cup o’joe, hot and ready just for you, honey. I’m all out of peach pie but I got one coming out of the oven any secon’ now. You want some ice cream with that pie?” She laid his food down gently, he gave you a grin and thanked you, “Careful, plate’s hot, honey.”

“Ice cream would hurt my teeth but I’ll take it since you suggested it.” Reacher caught her blush. 

“I’ll make a note of it. Enjoy your food and let me know if ya need anything, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckled and picked up his utensils.

She winked at him and walked away, picking up a pot of coffee to replenish cups of other patrons and swatting away advances from men in their sixties on her way back to the back counter.

After a while, Y/N walked back with a plate of peach pie covered in a large scoop of vanilla ice cream and placed it in front of him.

“One large piece of fresh peach pie with a heaping scoop of homemade vanilla ice cream for the gentleman,” She said cheerfully and replenished his coffee.

He couldn’t help but smile at her, “Why on earth would you work here?” He asked bluntly, but with a soft chuckle at the end.

“Well, I got bills to pay. Just like everyone else.” She chuckled. “You ain’t got no bills?”

God, he’d do anything to hear Y/N laugh again.

“No, I don’t.”

“No bills at all?” She shook your head slightly, smiling still, thinking he’s joking.

“I have no reason to lie.”

She stared at him, not quite sure if she actually believed him or not. Most of her customers told her a few wild things here and there. But no one around these parts looked quite like him.

He was a behemoth of a man standing taller than the green giant on a can of peas, bigger and more muscular than those lumberjacks on those Brawny paper towels. His one arm was probably the size of one of her soft and plush thighs that seemed to be restricted on those skinny jeans she’s wearing.

“Aight.” She chuckled again. Her name was called, and she glanced at a group of young men about your age who dog-whistled and hollered at her. Y/N turned back around to Reacher and forced a smile, “You enjoy your pie, sir, I’ll be back in a bit with your bill. Just holler if you need anything, yeah?”

“You know them?” Reacher suddenly turned serious. His attention was on those young men who banged on the table, demanding that she serve them.

“I-I’m sorry about them, I’ll tell them to quiet down in a minute. They’re just a little rowdy-“

“That’s not what I asked. Do you know them?” He asked again, looking up at her. Her demeanor changed. Embarrassment. She could pick out that pleather jacket out from a crowd. 

Blushing slightly in embarrassment, she answered, “I know one of them… that one in the sport’s jacket. The rest are his little friends. But I’ll tell them to-“

Before she could finish, Reacher stood up from his seat, his mere size making you gasp. She hadn’t realized how large he actually was until he stood up, she hadn’t seen him when he first walked in.

“Sir- please you don’t have to talk to them, what are you doin-“

“Your name is Y/N?”

“Y-Yes…” she clutched the handle of the coffee pot to make sure she didn’t drop it. He glanced down at her and gave her a half-smirk, “Just go stay behind the counter and put the coffee back on the machine so it doesn’t get cold.”

Not knowing what to think, Y/N did what he asked, the other waitresses following suit, other customers either staying in their seats or moving away as they watched Reacher walk up to the group of rowdy young men who still tried to get your attention.

He grabbed a chair and sat it by the edge of the table and sat down. Even sitting down, his large body frame towered over them. He didn’t say anything at first but looked at them smugly for a moment as they all stared at him. 

The main culprit looked like he had a vein about to pop out of his forehead, “Can I help you?”

“Any reason you need Y/N to help you?”

“She’s a waitress, and I’ve been trying to get her number for a hot minute - she works here, of course she’s going to serve us.” He scoffed.

“I don’t appreciate you calling her over like she’s a dog, Pleather.”

—

“This will just sting a little-“

“Y/N, I’m fine-“

“No you ain’t, Reacher. Your brow and your lip is all busted up and that one guy had a knife.” Y/N shook her head as she cleaned up his brow with some alcohol and then put a small bandage on his forehead.

Reacher smiled at her the whole time as he let her patch him up. She’d taken him off to the side. Moaning in the distance outside, incoherent cursing could be heard from the parking lot as the group of young men eventually stood up from the ground and made it back to their car. The main culprit was hanging out in the parking lot, looking through the window at Y/N and Reacher. He spit on the ground before finally going back to his car.

“But I’m serious, Reacher… you ain’t have to do that…” Once she finished, Y/N put the extra bandages back in the First Aid kit and looked at him with concern.

“Well, I did it anyway. And last I checked, you’re not a dog.”

Y/N couldn’t help but smile and then patted his shoulder. “You’re sweet. Sorry about your pie, the ice cream is all melted. I’ll get you a new one.”

“You eat that new one, I’ll eat mine.” Reacher was not one to waste food if he could help it - especially when trouble seemed to follow him. Smiling softly, she nodded and patted his shoulder before going back behind the counter and cutting her own slice of pie as Reacher walked back to his seat, waiting and watching as Y/N walked back and sat opposite of him.

Like teenagers, they couldn’t keep eye contact while trying to eat their peach pie.

“That was some military fightin’ back there, Reacher? Is it ok if I call you Reacher?” Y/N managed to muster out, clearing his throat and looking up at him.

Chuckling softly, Reacher nodded, “Yeah, I was in for a while.” He paused for a moment, watching her eat. The stories she must’ve heard from people. The restaurant was quiet again. She looked up at him, giving him a small smile. “Jack is fine too.”

“Jack? That’s your first name?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jack Reacher.” She said. She was quiet for a second as she examined him. Taking in his appearance. Committing him to memory. She sucked the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head. Savoring his name, as if she took a bite of him like she did that pie. The sweetness in her voice dripping from her lips as she said his whole name. Sweeter than the half-eaten peach pies sitting before them.

“I like it. Hard to forget a name like that. It’s different. You stayin’ here long, Jack?” She scooped the last bit of pie and placed the spoon face down on her tongue, sucking off whatever peach pie remnants were left on the spoon before placing the spoon on her plate.

Very few people’s opinions mattered to Reacher, he barely knew Y/N but it made him smile when she said his name and that she liked his name. It gave him an unusual feeling. Couldn’t help but wonder what peach pie would taste like when it’s on her tongue. 

“Just passing through.” He leaned back once he finished his slice of pie, admiring the woman in front of him. Her lipgloss still glistened. Her eyes sparkled. Her breasts barely contained in her bra.

“That’s unfortunate. I would’ve loved to see you again, Jack.” She smiled when she took notice of him admiring her. It was a different type of admiration. “Can I call you?”

“Don’t have a phone.”

“Can I send you a letter?”

“Don’t have an address.”

“Well, damn, how will I talk to you and get to know you when you leave? Will this be the last I see of Jack Reacher, the man who saved my life?”

“I’ll come back tonight.” Reacher chuckled, smirking at her.

Y/N chuckled and then leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table, making the softness in her breasts very obvious as they pressed up. “Is that so? Well, would you like me to tell you the dinner specials now or later?”

“What time to do you get off?”

“After dinner tonight. Would you like to join me for dinner?” 

“I should be asking you that.” Reacher mirrored her actions, leaning forward, his massive arms made of military grade steel rested on the table. Their faces were mere inches apart.

“Well, I asked first.”

Reacher wasn’t one to pursue women. But Y/N? From the little time he got to interact with her, he might hang around this little country town a little while longer.

TAG LIST

@redpool @mykneeshurt

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Never Give Up

Pairing: Rockstar!Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warnings: complete fluff, getting blood drawn so needles and blood

Summary: Jensen is in town for his next concert and visit you for a check-up before performing. You two have known each other for your whole life since his sister is your best friend, and he never fails to ask you out every time he sees you. You’ve always said no. It’s his mission to get you to say yes.

Square Filled: rockstar!jensen (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

You grab another vial of blood and mark down in the system which patient of yours this belongs to. Afterward, you place it inside a medical plastic bag and set it off to the side for the lab to pick up later. Today has been non-stop tending to patients, drawing blood, and taking vitals. You’re only halfway through your shift and you feel like your head is going to explode.

“Did you see his post?” another nurse asks as she and her friend walk into the office. “God, he looks so hot. I can’t believe he’s single.”

“I bet he’s fucking random fans every show he does. I could be one of those fans if I got tickets. Can you believe even the nosebleeds are two hundred bucks?”

You don’t need to hear his name to know who they’re talking about. There is only one artist that is big enough in the news right now. He’s been on a steady incline to fame ever since he left Texas for California.

“Do you think he’s good in bed?”

You roll your eyes at that but don’t comment on it. You just want to do your job and go home. You can’t be sitting here thinking about your best friend’s brother and how much of an arrogant bastard he is who thinks the world revolves around him. It doesn’t help that he has a major crush on you, and he isn’t afraid to show it. Besides him telling you every time he calls you how much he likes you, he’ll always try to show you either with flowers, dinner, or other small presents that he has mailed to you.

There isn’t a time that goes by when he’s with you that he doesn’t try and ask you out on a date. If he was just your best friend’s brother, you would consider it. It’s the fact that he’s an up-and-coming rockstar who isn’t near his peak that has you on the edge. You know rockstars. You dated a few of them. All they care about is music, money, and sex. They’ll get it anywhere from any woman who is willing to spread her legs for them. You’re not saying Jensen is like that, but you don’t want to be a notch on his belt.

Still, that doesn’t stop you from using your vibrator and fantasizing about him.

A few days pass without incident when you’re inputting patients into the computer. The same two coworkers who were talking about Jensen before come strolling in with big smiles on their faces.

“What’s got you two looking like that?”

“Jensen is in town for his concert.”

“Did you two get tickets?”

“No, but I know of a way inside. I have someone working security.”

You’d rather not sit here and watch them fangirl over him so you decide to finish your paperwork later and check on the patients. Your best friend, Sabrina, pulls you to the side as soon as she sees you.

“I need you to take the patient in Room 15.”

“Why? That’s your section.”

“Please? I can’t do it.”

“Why?” you ask, your eyes narrowing.

“He’s my brother. They won’t let me work on him.”

Jensen is here. You think about what it might mean if he sees you entering the room and think it’s better than sending the fangirls in there with him.

“Fine. You owe me.” You start to walk away from her with the blood draw supplies and pause. “Don’t tell the other girls. They’ll cause a riot.”

You walk to Room 15 and knock twice before entering. Jensen is sitting on the small table with the paper lined for people’s safety even though half the time, it gets crumbled and tossed out of the way. He is scrolling through his phone but it’s not that that has you staring in awe. He is wearing a tight black shirt that really shows off his muscles and tattoos and dusty blue jeans that you know hug his ass so nicely, all with a backward hat on. His hair peeks out the back of his hat. It was shorter than the last time you saw him.

There’s a new image for your fantasies.

“Growing out your hair, huh?”

Jensen’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice, and he gives you a thousand-watt smile. He immediately puts his phone away so that he can give you all of his attention.

“I was hoping Sabrina would send you in here.”

“Oh, you’re lucky it’s me and not the two fangirls out there. I’m pretty sure one of them wants to have sex with you.”

“What about you? Do you want to have sex with me?”

You smile shyly and grab two latex gloves to start the blood-drawing process. “You wish.”

“Yeah, I do.”

You wrap a tourniquet around his upper arm before grabbing his arm and rubbing the area with an alcohol swab to sterilize the area. Don’t think about his big muscles. Focus, Y/N! You open a packet that contains a new needle and place it where you need to. Without counting down, you stick the needle into his vein and start to grab blood samples.

“So, come here often?” he flirts.

“I work here,” you giggle.

“I know. I just wanted to hear your giggle. So, when am I gonna take you out?”

“Hmm, how about never?” you tease.

“Don’t do that to me, sweetheart. Throw me a bone or something.”

“I’m not even going to comment,” you laugh.

You take out the first vial and shove a new one into the case for more blood.

“I’m serious. When are you gonna let me take you out to a nice dinner? I’ll pay.”

“Oh, you will? How generous of you,” you say sarcastically yet playfully.

“Does that mean yes?”

“No.”

“I’m not gonna stop asking you.”

“You’ll turn blue in the face if you continue that.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I look good in blue.” You roll your eyes and try to hide your smile knowing he sees it. You finish getting four blood samples before patching him up with a Hello Kitty bandaid. You were just treating two twin little girls and this is all you have. “Nice band-aid.”

“It’s all I have. I can get a different one if you want.”

“No, no, I happen to like Hello Kitty.” You trash your gloves and the needle packet before standing. “Come to my concert.”

“I have to work.”

“No, you don’t. It’s on Saturday and you don’t work the weekends.” You silently curse knowing he’s right. “How about this? I will have a VIP and all-access badge with your name on it. Come if you want. It starts at seven. Are we done here?”

“Yeah, but--”

“Give my love to Sabrina.”

He hops of the table and kisses your cheek as he leaves. The two fangirls see him and fawn over his good looks but when he looks back, it’s at you. He only has eyes for you. He winks and turns to the fangirls who are practically tripping over the other to get to him. He signs what they want to be signed and takes pictures with them before leaving.

Today is only Wednesday but you can’t stop thinking about Jensen and his offer the rest of the week. Saturday comes faster than you’d like, and you find yourself driving with Sabrina to the concert hours before it even starts. There are already people lining up to get to the front of the pit but you bypass the entire parking lot to head to the back where the service entrance is.

“I can’t believe I’m going to this,” you say.

“So, when are you and my brother going to fuck?”

“Sabrina!”

“What? If anyone should be with him, it’s you. That boy is in love with you.”

“No, he’s not. He thinks he is because I don’t want him.”

“Does telling yourself that help you sleep at night?”

“Sabrina… He’s a rockstar. He’s a famous rockstar. He doesn’t want some rundown nurse. He could have anyone.”

“Yeah, but he wants you.”

You’re torn because you do want Jensen. He’s every girl’s dream. Even if he wasn’t a rockstar or famous, you’ve known him since you two were kids. You grew up together. You know who the real Jensen is, the one he doesn’t show anyone else. Still, there is that nagging feeling that he'll dump you once he gets bored with you. 

All of your exes did.

You show security both your IDs and he hands you and Sabrina your access badges before directing you where to park. After you two get out, you follow security to the back where the band is hanging out. You’ve gotten to know Jensen’s band a little over the years. They’re nice guys.

“Bean!” Jensen turns and grins when he sees his sister. His drummer has a major crush on your friend and has called her Bean ever since she told him she hated it. They’re in the “will they, won’t they?” stage but everyone knows they’re gonna be endgame. “Where’ve you been?”

“I told you not to call me that,” she rolls her eyes and hugs her brother. 

“And I told you I don’t care. I like how you blush when I do,” he smirks.

Jensen’s gaze goes over to you and he visibly relaxes at the sight of you. He walks over to you and takes off his hat so that his hair falls over his face.

“Hi, Jensen.” He smiles but doesn’t answer you. “What, cat got your tongue? I know I’m breathtaking but come on.”

“He doesn’t speak before a show to preserve his voice. He has breathing exercises to do,” Josh, the drummer, says.

“What a blessing,” you joke.

Jensen pulls you in for a hug, and you allow this minute to really feel him. His arms have always felt so safe around you, and you find yourself relaxing into his body. He pulls away and takes out his phone to text you since he takes his voice exercises seriously. Your phone pings and you look at the message he sent.

I love that you’re here.

You blush under his gaze and try but fail to hide your smile.

“You know I would have come.”

You and Sabrina leave for the VIP tent on the floor while the band gets ready. The opener comes out and does her performance which gives you time to enjoy the music and get some food before Jensen comes on stage. Since you and Sabrina are on Jensen and Josh’s social media, you’re both easily recognizable. Fans come up to the tent to chat and take pictures with you two. You never had a desire for fame but it’s nice to know you’ve made someone’s day just by saying hi to them.

The entire stadium goes dark and the intro to the concert begins. Immediately, the entire crowd cheers for Jensen. He walks on stage in a different outfit than when you saw him earlier, and you have to admit he looks really good. He’s wearing a classic muscle shirt that definitely shows off how much he’s been working out and his tattoos. Gone is his hat so that his hair can flop around freely.

His eyes immediately find the VIP tent, and he smiles when he sees you. You’ve seen his concerts over TikTok Lives and other social media platforms but nothing beats the real thing. He sings each song with passion like he means every word he’s singing. There is a long catwalk where he walks, and all the girls fawn over him whenever he gives them two seconds of his attention.

By the time he’s at the halfway point of his concert, your feet are hurting from how much you’re dancing and your ears are ringing from how loud it is, but you love it. Jensen is in the middle of a song when he suddenly stops and takes out one of his earpieces.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he pants. The band stops playing and everyone quiets down in confusion, including you. He’s never done this at any of his other concerts. “I’ll get back to the music in a second. I just want to say this is a very special concert because there is someone very special here tonight.”

“Oh, my God,” Sabrina gasps.

“Her name is Y/N and she’s right over there in the VIP tent.” The camera pans over to your shocked face so that everyone in the stadium can see. Sabrina can’t stop smiling. “You see, we’ve been friends since we were kids and she doesn’t know this but I am absolutely crazy for her.”

Cheers erupt throughout the stadium, and you shake your head at Jensen with a smile.

“Now, I’ve asked her this many times but she’s always said no to me. I don’t think she’ll be able to say no in a room full of eighty thousand people. Someone get her a microphone. I want to hear her answer.” Jensen waits for someone to bring you a microphone. “Y/N, will you let me take you to a really nice dinner date?”

You wait for the crowd to quiet down a bit before giving your answer.

“No,” you smile sweetly. “You just won’t take no for an answer.”

“You’re right. I won’t.” He drags one of the barstools to the middle of the stage and sits on it. “That’s why we’re not continuing until you say yes.”

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I am, sweetheart. I won’t sing another song until you say yes. What do you say, Los Angeles? Should she say yes to me?” Almost every fan in the stadium including Sabrina cheers for you two. “See? Even they think you should.”

“Well if they think we should…”

“Is that a yes?”

“No,” you grin.

“Alright.” Jensen sits and drums his fingers on his legs patiently. “I wonder what I’m going to do next weekend. I think I should take up fishing. My dad always brought me but I never appreciated it before.”

“You’re seriously going to sit there and not continue your concert?” you ask.

“Put everyone out of their misery and just say yes to the date. Come on, everyone. Y/N! Y/N!”

Everyone starts chanting your name, and Sabrina tugs on your arm to grab your attention.

“Has any of your exes done this for you? What are you scared of?”

She’s right. None of your rockstar boyfriends have ever stopped a concert for you. None of them even mentioned you were there. Jensen doesn’t have to say it but he is in love with you and you’re in love with him.

“Fine. Fine. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Yes!” Jensen cheers. You hand the microphone back to the stadium worker, and Jensen puts the earpiece back in. “This next song is for you, sweetheart.”

And he plays the song he wrote for you in high school.

x

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[moongreenlight]

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

[ickie]

♡ … THE SECRET OF US \ CHAPTER 2  …

pairing ... lando norris x leclerc!reader summary ... summer of '22 and it seems that you & lando get along a little ... too well. warnings ... alcohol consumption, maybe slight allusions to cheating ... i do think that's it friends :) notes ... so sorry for the delay ! just because of that, next chapter is going to be posted on sunday & it'll continue with this summer '22 storyline so we get a little more background and your relationship with lando... feedback is always appreciated & fill out this form to be added to my taglist ! much love <3 ... masterlist ... last chapter ... next chapter ...

SUMMER BREAK, 2022.

your head knocked against the car window, the bumps on the road making any hope of a nap impossible before the car finally stopped at the dock. as you muttered a few curse words under your breath, your attention was drawn to elliotte, one of your childhood friends, who was in a heated conversation in french with another member of your group.

"is everything okay?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as the conversation abruptly ceased.

"yes! i was just trying to explain the importance of sunscreen, but apparently, i know nothing, so everyone ignore me!" elliotte declared dramatically, prompting a quiet giggle from you.

"you're probably the smartest one here, so please, continue…" you encouraged her with a smile.

….

soon enough, your small group arrived at the dock, everyone unloading their bags as the spanish sun began making sweat bead along your hairline. with your tote bag slung over your shoulder, elliotte stopped you before you could move any further.

"we’re going to have a few more people on the yacht with us," she said. "you remember luisa? well, she's bringing her boyfriend, who i think you know—" a groan escaped your lips, and your face scrunched in distaste at the thought of seeing one of your brother’s coworkers.

"so you do know him! and he’s bringing one of his friends too, i believe. just play nice!" elliotte squeezed your hand before dragging you along, her expression mirroring your displeasure.

introductions are always awkward, especially when everyone knows of each other. you were itching to get into the water and just relax.

"hi, little leclerc," lando said with a grin, leaning in for a side hug. "long time no see, eh? too good for the paddock this year?" his teasing tone made you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest.

"just got sick of watching men cry over their cars not going fast enough. plus, i don't think i can handle watching mclaren mess up daniel any more than you guys already have." you replied bluntly, hoping he wouldn’t push the conversation further.

lando opened his mouth, but elliotte cut him off. "no f1 talk, please!" she groaned, rolling her eyes before leaning on you. "this one," she pointed at you, "is on a strict pleasure holiday, and no one can take that away from her!"

some of your friends cheered, clearly happy to see you letting loose. you had to admit, it was refreshing to be on a holiday without any responsibilities—no family concerns, no brand posts to manage. it was truly a chance to unwind.

as the boat began to move away from the coastline, you walked to the edge, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. the salty air filled your nostrils, and a content smile spread across your lips. you must have been there longer than you realized because a hand on your shoulder startled you out of your trance.

"i’m sorry!" the curly-haired brit said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "you had just been standing here for a while, so i wanted to make sure you were okay…" he smiled, one hand scratching the back of his neck.

"i’m fine," you replied, turning to face him and relaxing against the rails. "i just… i’ve always liked the ocean." it was a simple response, your gaze drifting back to the blue water.

"so much so that it, what, hypnotizes you?" his teasing remark made you shake your head and roll your eyes.

"it reminds me of maman. she would always take me to the beach during the summer when papa had the boys for karting." you smiled, reminiscing about those fond memories.

"we would get ice cream, i’d always get sunburned no matter how much sunscreen i used, and maman would fuss about how she’d have to fix my hair the next day because it would get tangled from the salt." you glanced at lando, who was listening with an amused grin.

"sounds like you two always had a great time together, yeah?" he asked.

you nodded, hands stuffed into the pockets of your shorts. a comfortable silence fell between you until max, one of lando’s friends, came over to steal him away for something about a bet. you took this chance to change into your swimsuit. the boat hadn’t reached its intended stopping point yet, but a nap in the sun sounded perfect.

with sunscreen applied and your airpods securely in place (with an audiobook playing— it’s not summer without you by jenny han, translated into french), you tried to let sleep pull you under. when it didn’t happen, you simply rested with your eyes closed, enjoying the gentle sway of the boat.

…

lunch/dinner passed uneventfully, everyone quietly enjoying the sandwiches that elliotte and luisa had prepared while you attempted to nap. finishing your drink, a vodka paloma—since tequila apparently made elliotte and luisa crazy—you stood up and disposed of your trash. “i’m going to go swim,” you announced. a few people said they’d join you shortly, and you felt a rush of excitement at the thought of diving into the water.

you shed your oversized t-shirt and eagerly jumped into the warm water, staying submerged for a few moments before surfacing at the sound of another splash. lando surfaced beside you, his curls flattened by the water. you laughed as he coughed.

“i don’t know how you made that look so easy,” he grumbled, gripping the ladder as you tread water.

“it is easy!” you laughed, playfully splashing him. a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“oh, it’s on.” lando's competitive side emerged as he splashed you back, just as you dipped underwater.

as you tried to swim away, he grabbed your ankle, pulling you closer. you gasped for air, splashing him again in hopes he’d let go, but he just pulled you closer, his hands moving to your waist. with a wide grin, he pushed you back underwater.

you resurfaced sputtering, eyes wide as you looked at him. “you better sleep with one eye open tonight,” you teased, swimming away slowly. “i’m going to get you back when you least expect it.”

he nodded, pretending not to believe you, his eyes tracking you as you dipped back underwater. when you resurfaced, elliotte was halfway down the ladder. “i know you just got in, but we were going to play a game up top. you two want to join?”

you eagerly swam back to the ladder, and lando agreed to join as well. the game was charades, and you were teamed up with elliotte and luisa, while lando, max f., and another friend formed the opposing team.

the game proved challenging. elliotte struggled to portray water, while lando’s team cheated by making sounds to convey their words and phrases. the game ended when elliotte and max started bickering, neither willing to concede.

“at least i’m not a cheater!” elliotte pointed at max while you pulled her inside, laughing so hard your cheeks hurt.

“i’m so glad you’re having fun, mon doudou,” she said, leaning her head on your shoulder as you pulled her into a side hug.

“thank you for this. for pulling me away from monaco and life in general. you’re the best friend a girl could ever ask for,” you hummed before elliotte stood up, her face scrunching.

“i hate when we get sentimental.”

“yeah, let’s never do that again. that was weird.”

you started making a simple rum and coke when lando entered the kitchenette, eyeing your drink. “if you even dare, i will actually kill you,” elliotte warned, taking a sip to safeguard her drink.

you stifled a laugh, watching her sway out of the kitchenette towards the deck. lando’s demeanor had shifted from his earlier rambunctiousness.

“i think it’s my turn to ask, are you okay?” you ventured. lando looked like a sad puppy, tugging at your slightly intoxicated self.

“oh, i’m good. luisa and i got into an argument, is all,” he said, giving a tight-lipped smile, clearly more affected than he let on.

you hummed in response, putting away the alcohol and opting for water. “i’m no expert in relationships, but if you need a shoulder to cry on, i’m here,” you offered, taking a long drink from your glass to stop yourself from saying more.

“thanks, it means a lot,” he said, smiling fully this time as he moved you aside to get some water. you both drank in comfortable silence.

“and, uh, if you need a break from the boat, i know a little cove not too far away. charlie showed it to me last summer,” you suggested.

“i would love that, actually. i know luisa is planning to go to bed soon, so let me check on her and then we can go?”

“sure! just come find me when you’re ready.” you agreed.

[spdrvyn]

i'll be lonely with you — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: with the passage of time and whispers from your acquaintances at the spider society HQ, you've found out that your boss has a habit of sneaking out of his office during the dead hours of night to eat dinner. completely alone.

NOTES: new formatting for fics !!! do you guys like it? :3 i decided to include summaries that way it would be easier for people to understand the general jist of the plot without me spewing nonsense in the notes. anyways enjoy !!!!! thanks for the support on my recent works as well ^_^

You didn't consider yourself the most introverted person.

Even when it came to hundreds of Spider-people, you tried to get to know who you could and become acquainted with as many of them as possible. How could you not?

However, there were few that you knew on a more personal level. People that you'd keep close to your side whenever you visited headquarters. People that you'd enjoy having an exchange of gossip with during lunch in the bustling cafeteria.

Miguel O'Hara wasn't exactly one of those people.

It's not like you didn't want to develop something more than a boss-coworker relationship. Though, conversations with him were always difficult, to the say the least. Most of the time, he's talking about work and anything that goes past that boundary goes unspoken.

Quite literally. You've forgotten the amount of times that you've built up the courage to mention anything about your other (not deceased) relatives or your friends and the amount of times that the room was filled with a silence so awkward that crickets are on the same volume as missile launchers.

Though, you didn't want to lose hope. You sort of understood where he was coming from. People go through grief and mourning in different ways, Miguel's was probably just isolation and a complete avoidance of discussions of personal life.

He was a leader. A good one. A trait of a good leader is to connect with their subordinates, establish relationships. So it really made you think.

How messed up was he that he missed that one quality?

"Hey. Your food's getting cold." There it goes, the sound of your train of thought leaving the station. Sometimes, you were grateful for Jess being there for you. She could snap you back to reality you like nobody else could.

You mutter an apology before stabbing your salad with your fork and taking a bite, Jess rests her head on her palm. Raising a brow at you, "So, did you want to eat lunch with me for fun or are you just using me to get info about Miguel? Again?"

Nervously, you shake your head. "It's nothing like that!" She leans in a little more, waving her other free hand in the air in a circular motion.

"...But if you have anything that you'd like to share then I'm not going to refuse entirely—"

"Oh my god. Fine, fine. What do you want to know?"

With that question, it felt like your mind blanked. You fidgeted with your fork, twirling a leaf of your salad against the plate as you pondered on what question to ask.

Jess responds with a deep sigh, "If you're trying to find a way to talk to him more, he doesn't leave that office of his much unless it's for work. He's in there most of time. Although..."

"Although?"

"Although, I've seen him come here normally somewhere around midnight to get a very late dinner alone. The place is less crowded, most are just in their own universe or sleeping or working."

Your face falls a little upon hearing that. "So I can only catch a non-serious conversation with him... in the middle of the night?"

"Exactly. Besides, there's a good chance he's going to just— continue talking about work with you whether he's in his office or not. You know that, right?"

You drop your utensil in defeat, burying your face shamefully in your hands. "I know..."

You quickly wrap up your lunch with Jess, as she shares bits and pieces about him. You had really wondered how she was able to learn all of these things about him anyway but before you had the opportunity to ask her, she told you to not.

Respecting her wishes, you keep your mouth shut. Respecting her even further, you decide to pack up both of your plates and wave her a goodbye before picking up those thoughts that you were left a while ago.

Admittedly, you didn't know why you were so persistent for something like this, for someone like him.

Determination was a strength of yours but that didn't mean that you didn't know where your limits rested and you would back off when you needed to.

There was just something. A swirling feeling in your gut that was telling you to keep going.

That it would be worth it.

So, you follow everything that Jess told you. Around midnight, he'd be alone, in the cafeteria, and looking for an empanada to snack on before heading back into his office. A very small fraction of his time left for personal conversation if you tried hard enough!

This most likely wasn't a good idea. You didn't sleep at all through the day but the thrill kept you alive and thriving. You confidently stride up to the counters of the cafeteria, picking out a small bag of chips for yourself and the last empanada for your soon-to-be snack companion.

Now, you wait.

You surveyed your surroundings and as you were doing that, you realize why he particularly emerges during these kinds of hours to eat. There was a significantly less amount of people.

Whenever you came here during the day, it was a miracle to be able to find completely empty seats. At times, you were forced to sit with a group of people.

You weren't entirely ungrateful for that though, you've made a lot of friends that way. Sure, it was awkward at first but the more you were forced to interact with people that way, the more you adapted to making small talk.

Even then, there were a lot of tables that were taken here save for one completely empty one at the far end.

Then, you finally see that navy and red suit.

Deciding to observe him just a little bit more, you watch him curse under his breath seeing the display case for the empanadas empty. Before he walks away any further, you tap him on the shoulder.

His mask was on, his eyes widen a little bit before you hand him the small box. "I saved the last one for you."

With a soft huff, you see the muscles in his shoulders and back grow loose once more, he hestitantly takes the container from your hands. Looking at it then looking back at you, "Thanks."

You two share a few seconds of awkward silence, you felt a little exposed. You decided to unmask for this because you wanted him to feel more comfortable talking to you rather than who you were as a Spider-person yet there's still that same awkwardness in the air.

Clearly without nothing to do and no idea on how to makem something better out of this, Miguel's about to walk off before you stop him once more.

"W— wait," A little piece of yourself dies inside as you hear yourself stutter but nevertheless, you keep going. "Uh, there aren't any other spots so is it alright if I sit you? I don't know any of the people here."

The way that you see the eyes through his masks narrow ever so slightly once the question escapes your throat makes your heart quiver like crazy.

You wanted to get to know him but damn, if you said that he didn't scare you sometimes then you would be lying.

You cry on the inside with sweet victory as he says...

"Fine."

That was it. That was all you got but you gladly take it! You have to catch up to him though because once you're done mentally celebrating, he's already a little bit far from you.

You try your hardest to keep your head straight but you can't help but look up and spare him one glance, the fact that you even had to look up at him really only emphasized your height difference with him.

Another factor that made you just a little bit more intimidated by him, his physique. You considered yourself to be of average height, you weren't the tallest person in the room but you were never the shortest as well. Just average.

The way he practically towered over you, his hand nearly being the size of your head. It made you feel something.

The moment that both of you have a seat, you take your opportunity.

"So, is there anything that you plan on doing after this?"

You get a little distracted once his mask comes off, he raises an eyebrow at you, crimson eyes that feel like they're looking straight into your soul. Though, side-tracked as he bites into the dough and meaty goodness of his empanada, with a shrug— he replies,

"Not really. Unless there's an anomaly I haven't heard of yet then I have no plans. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, nothing. Was just curious is all." Why was this so hard?!

The conversation goes as what you expected. You'd ask a question every moment or so and he'd give you a short response before going back to his food. He wouldn't ask you anything back, wouldn't add any 'unnecessary' comments. Just bask in the silence.

You simply couldn't take it anymore, you didn't know how to express your interest in him without asking him more questions about himself which he seems to avoid trying to answer.

You couldn't ask him about his hobbies because he'll most likely say that he's too busy working to actually spend time gaining and branching out to different interests.

Dejectedly, you sigh. "I'm sorry for imposing— on your alone time, I mean." It was like everything that you wanted to say just kept spilling out of your mouth.

"I didn't want to eat with you at this hour because I pity you or— or I found you lonely or whatever. I just thought that whenever you weren't talking about work, we'd be able to get along."

You stand up from your seat, eyes mindlessly darting arounf the labels of the bag of 'Spider-O's' in your clutches.

"I'll, uhm, let you eat in peace now. Once again, I'm—"

"Wait."

Which ever brain cells died from that interaction certainly reignited now. "Sit back down," It comes off an order. An order you certainly obey.

"I wouldn't have actually said yes to you if I didn't want to talk." He starts. "I know a lot of people but it's not in the same way that you do. I know their names, their faces, their canon events. You know their feelings, their mindscapes, and their troubles—"

"—And those are the exact kinds of things that I can't comprehend most of the time. We understand people differently, is what I'm saying. I still have no idea why exactly you sought out me of all people but I will... try to gain this new perspective of things."

You want to tamp down the smile that creeps up on your lips as you hear those words but you can't. What he said, it all made sense now. You couldn't see the full picture still, but you were willing to find it—

"I understand. It's fine."

"So? Do you have plans after this?"

Together.

[smnthchrstn]

see a list of prompts here. send a request here. see my previous work here, here, here & here. thank you! i don't currently take anons for my own safety and sanity, but if you have a private request feel free to message me and i can post it without using your url! notes: word count is 1,644. austin is your coworker, you're both working side by side on the bikeriders. he helps ground you after a ptsd episode. tw for mentions of sa/assault/past abuse. dedication: this one shot is dedicated to my gf @vintagecherri may we always be able to comfort each other in our darkest times. thank you for teaching and reminding me to always be gentle with myself, even when i feel i have failed the most. xoxo

safe here with me | austin butler x reader

"And cut!"

You sucked in a deep breath, your eyes fluttering closed and then open again as you tried to regain your composure. That scene had really gotten to you, and you'd nailed it on the first go. You almost had forgotten about the man sitting in the same room as you. His eyes grew from vacancy to attentive, searching your face for some sign that you were doing okay. Your breathing became a bit jagged as the director told everyone they'd done a fantastic job and that they'd be moving on for the day.

The man across from you was your co-star, Austin. And you two had been getting to know each other for quite some time, especially since arriving in Cincinnati to film a movie about a biker club from the 1960s. You played his wife, he played your husband - a wild, crazy, pained young man who got a thrill out of doing the most dangerous things and not caring what anyone thought about it. You'd learned, in time, that Austin was the complete opposite. Most of the time anyway. You'd developed a friendship, although sometimes it seemed like more. You knew he looked at everyone like that, like they were the world's greatest treasure in his eyes. He had a way of captivating people and making them feel as if they were the only other person on earth.

"Hey, Y/N," a low and gravel-y voice asked, and you'd realized he'd been saying it for a few moments at least. Your eyes had glazed over, your hands were shaking as you wrapped your arms around your frame. "Are you okay?" the blonde man before you asked, his eyes filled with worry as he saw the way you'd reacted since the day had been called. "I..yes," you finally mustered enough courage up to answer. "Yes. I'm fine." You took a very shaky breath, running both hands through your long hair. "Completely fine." Austin finally stood, holding his hand out to help you up, and you took the help. He led you back outside to his trailer, holding the door for you and you felt inclined to join him, to follow.

"Hey, you know," he tried to begin saying, a little unsure of his own words. "You know, I don't have to tell you that I wouldn't necessarily react the way my character would to anything said or done." And with that, he walked to his mini fridge and got you out a cold water before taking a seat. You nodded, still a little jumbled up with your words. "I know, it's acting," you responded knowingly. Austin nodded, reaching beside him to pull a cigarette from his pack, placing it between his lips and lighting it. He took a deep drag into his lungs, flicking the ashes away into one of his own homemade ashtrays. You still felt small. You always did when topics like that would come up.

"I know that scene was a little heavy," he said, the smoke billowing around him in a cloud. "Yeah, I mean, it's okay," you said easily enough, with a tiny shrug of your shoulders. "I'm more than capable of handling serious scenes." Sure, you hadn't had too much practice before this with acting, but you'd done well enough to nail the part and you'd been doing a fantastic job. "Oh no, no, Y/N. I wasn't trying to insinuate at all that you aren't meant to be here. You are, you are the best scene partner I could ask for. I've loved getting to know you and becoming your friend," Austin explained, pausing to take another puff of his cigarette. You weren't sure where he'd been trying to go with this conversation. "I couldn't help but notice the way you mentally checked out after that scene, and I wanted to make sure you were okay."

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

"Don't you, get away from me!" You screamed at the top of your lungs. Your chest burned, your stomach throbbed, everything inside you felt torn apart and hurt, broken and unfixable. And even after you'd received medical attention it still hurt. For days, for weeks, months, even years. You had residual pain that wouldn't go away, you'd been to the hospital and you'd seen doctors, and you had the nightmares that would wake you up in tears some nights. The assault had made your life a living hell, one that you often hadn't wanted to wake up from. You'd thought of countless ways to end it, to stop the pain from continuing.

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

Big hands moved over your shaky ones, holding them in place. "Hey." His cigarette had been put out since you'd involuntarily closed your eyes. Your breathing became uneven, you were having trouble catching your breath. "Hey, hey, hey," he said, softening his voice, calming blue eyes filled with worry. "S-sorry," you managed to stutter. If you could think straight you would've been so embarrassed. Having such a massive panic attack in front of your new friend and co-star, not to mention a guy that you were absolutely smitten with was mortifying for you. It had been years, you thought you'd been "over" this. Austin placed a hand on your cheek, moving his thumb over your jaw and checking you over. He reached down and over, taking your wrist gently between two fingers and counting in his head. He did that for a moment or two before shaking his head. "Come sit next to me," he said, holding his arm out for you to come closer. "Please." You shakily moved to sit beside him and didn't protest when he pulled you in against his chest, your ear pressed against his heartbeat. "You're safe," he assured you in a low tone. He hadn't the slightest idea of what you'd gone through, but he knew what a panic attack looked like and what trauma looked like - and he knew you'd experienced something horrendous in your past. Austin worked to keep his breathing and heart rate steady, wanting to help to ground you as much as he could. You could hear the gentle lub-dubs in his chest, the soft beating that kept him alive. and it did soothe you unlike anything else had before. You felt his hand on your back, rubbing in gentle circles, breathing loudly as to remind you that it was okay to breathe and that filling your lungs with air would be a good thing, maybe the best thing for you right now.

After some time, he took your pulse again wanting to make sure that your heart rate had come down some. "There we go, slowly making its way down," he murmured, keeping you close to him, still pressed against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat grounded you and you thought maybe you’d be able to talk a little about what had happened during that scene. “Reminded me of something that happened a few years back,” you began. “With my ex-boyfriend. Hadn’t been dating that long or anything and,” she said, shaking her head a little. “He, he told me he’d stop,” you whispered, giving him a heartbreaking look. “He promised he would stop before he even started but he didn’t,” you whispered, beginning to cry again. “He broke my trust. He didn’t stop and it happened. And, and,” you said, your lungs aching from the gasps you were making. “I, and I,” you tried to say, but you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head spinning. You could feel yourself back there again as your breathing became more and more labored. “Someone took advantage of you,” you finally heard the deep voice say. “Yes. Yeah, my ex-boyfriend hurt me. And that scene reminded me of that. I’m sorry, I’m a professional. I, I’m so embarrassed,” you whispered.

It didn’t surprise you when you felt his fingers against your wrist again, searching for the magic number of beats per minute, wanting to help bring you back down to earth if he could. “Hey, take a few deep breaths, okay? I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry that he took advantage of you, and I want you to know I will never hurt you like that.” The two of you hadn’t even spoken about a romantic relationship, aside from the flirtations that happened after filming and sometimes on set. Austin leaned back some against the couch in his trailer, bringing you with him cautiously. “There you go,” he whispered, moving one hand to your back and making sure you were pressed up against his chest again. You allowed yourself to focus. You could feel his breathing against you, the rise and fall of his abdomen and the soft puttering of his heartbeat. “There you go,” he said, combing his fingers through your long hair, attempting to soothe you. “There we go,” he said again, dancing his fingers over your back. “Deep breaths, after me.” And with his help, you were able to catch your breath. “You’re safe here with me, okay?” He pressed a kiss to your head, wanting to comfort you and relieved that your body seemed to be relaxing. “I’m sorry that triggered these feelings and memories for you. And when you’re ready, you tell me all about that, as much as you’d like to, okay? I’ll be here. I’ll listen and I’ll hold your hand to help it keep from shaking.” You took a deep breath and opened your eyes, your ear still filled with the sound of the man’s heartbeat. “You mean that really?” You asked, almost shocked that someone would take that kind of time to comfort and learn you. “Yeah. I really do.” You took another gentle breath and allowed your eyes to close, snuggling in comfortably against Austin. You’d never felt such comfort in your life, and looked forward to being in his.

[drivinmeinsane]

Colt Seavers x AFAB!Reader ※ { masterlist } ※ { ao3 }

※ Summary: On unsteady feet and with linked arms, you and Colt stumble along in the sand. You’re hanging onto each other. The warmth of the man at your side is almost more intoxicating than the beer you’ve been sipping all night long. The ocean is refreshingly cool against your ankles as you trail through the lapping waves, shoes and socks clasped firmly in your hands. ※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content. ※ Content/tags: AFAB Language Used for Reader's Genitalia, Anal Fingering, Bottom Colt Seavers, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption, Frottage, No use of Y/N, No Pronouns Given for Reader ※ Word count: 2,955 ※ Status: One-shot ※ Author's note: To be honest, I wasn't going to go full smut before the movie came out, but Colt crying in that second trailer sure changed my mind real fast. ※ Song inspiration: Moves - Suki Waterhouse

Night has placed its rich veil over the beach. This far out, the reaching fingers of the city’s light pollution do not dig into the sky over the blue-black waves. It would be rather tranquil, you think, if you weren’t surrounded by the majority of your fellow crew mates. They’re hell bent on thoroughly enjoying themselves tonight. The film that you have all spent the last four months working on finally came to close this afternoon. For a group of people that have been up since the sun broke the horizon and proceeded to move equipment around and push their bodies to the limits, this after party is showing no signs of slowing down as it crawls steadily into the predawn hours.

At your side, one of your coworkers jostles your shoulder as he tries vying for your attention. He nearly knocks your drink out of your hand with his drunken playfulness. You automatically laugh in response to the joke he says, but you don’t process what actually comes out of his leering mouth. You’ve only had eyes for one individual in particular since the very beginning of this job.

Across the way, awash in firelight, is Colt. He keeps looking at you with those blue eyes of his as he takes long pulls of beer. The bob of his throat catches the light with each swallow. It’s almost as though he knows where your mind has been focused.

You look away from him for a moment to acknowledge your admittedly unappreciated companion. He had just nudged you again, this time without the same playfulness as before. He looks sweaty and is wobbling as if he’s standing in a boat being tossed around by an angry sea. He opens his mouth with a smile that turns into a sudden grimace.

“Excuse me,” he groans, sounding tortured, and stumbles away to go throw up. Before you can resume your patient observation, you feel sudden warmth at your side and hear a slightly hoarse voice rise over the deep bass of the music.

“He sure left in a hurry.”

There’s no mistaking the voice. You know exactly who the speaker is, but you’re still pleased to turn and see that it’s Colt at your side. You lean against an equipment case, letting him stand too close. Everyone else is too distracted with their own enjoyment to bother calling out the way he moves to crowd into your space. His knees almost knock into your thighs.

“He overindulged,” you respond, doing some overindulging yourself. The stunt man’s plaid shirt is unbuttoned so much so that it’s almost obscene the way that his chest is put on display. It’s all golden skin, freckles for miles. The dusting of pale hair on top of it all feels like a reward for your eyes.

“Easy to do. You happy to be finished?” he asks, eyes flickering to your lips before darting back up to meet your distracted gaze.

“And miss seeing your face every morning when you and your bestie play fight over the coffee pot? Or maybe not ‘play’...” you pause contemplatively, “Some of those altercations looked a little too real.”

Colt shrugs easily and smiles. “Coffee is serious business.”

He’s leaned impossibly closer, enough now that you can see the fine lines around his eyes. In your slightly tipsy state, you muse that his hair looks so pettable. He laughs, flushed with his own buzz, and you realize you must have said your thoughts out loud.

“I was going to go take a walk along the tide line and then go crash in the bed of my truck to sleep,” he gestures to himself with a broad hand, “all this off. Do you want to…?”

“Why not, it beats trying to get a Lyft back to the hotel,” you say. Enthusiasm has you eagerly pressing into his personal space in return. His smile is blinding, addictive as a drug.

The two of you slip away from the after party. You doubt that you will be missed on account of the alcohol driven fun that everyone else is having. The crew is used to drifting together and then apart, scattered across the world to preform. It’s the nature of the business. You know you will not see some of them again for months or for years, if at all.

On unsteady feet and with linked arms, you and Colt stumble along in the sand. You’re hanging onto each other. The warmth of the man at your side is almost more intoxicating than the beer you’ve been sipping all night long. The ocean is refreshingly cool against your ankles as you trail through the lapping waves, shoes and socks clasped firmly in your hands.

You’re caught by complete when Colt trips and fully lands face first in the sand. He accidentally pulls you down with him, arm in arm. You both roll over onto your backs and laugh.

Colt puts on a petulant voice and between bouts of laughter manages to get out, “’I don't like sand. It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere.’”

“Nooooo!” you groan back, drunk enough to play along with his Star Wars bit. It sends him into further hysterics.

Sides aching, your giggling and rough housing fades away until you’re both lying side by side, just above the tide line. Your hands rest so that just the tips of your fingers brush. It’s suddenly real. Intimate. The rush of the waves echos your own heartbeat.

Colt breaks the moment first. He rises on to his elbow and shifts over to close the already small distance between your bodies. You look up at him in wonder as his hand cups your jaw. His face looks so serious, so intense, all of a sudden. The sensation of his thumb rubbing over your bottom lip causes you to swallow, mouth suddenly dry. He licks his own lips in anticipation and before he can lean down to kiss you, you rise up to press your mouths together first. His lips are soft on yours and he tastes like affordable beer.

When you tangle your hands into the bleached waves of his hair, you can feel the grit of sand against your grasping fingers. You feel like you’ve been waiting a lifetime for this moment. From the very first time you watched him fling himself off a five-story high set piece and come crashing down like Lucifer cast from Heaven, you’ve wanted him.

The stunt man diverts his attention from your mouth to your neck. He’s busy teasing the skin over your collarbone when you give his hair a sharp tug in a silent warning for him not to leave any marks. Colt whines, a breathy noise that cuts above the steady roar of the ocean. That sound knocks any sensible thought you had right of your mind. You had all the intentions in the world to tell him that you’d rather be doing this someplace where the sand isn’t going to end up where it shouldn’t, but his furrowed brow and heavy breathing sucks any protest from your lungs.

You give his hair another yank to see if his whine had been a fluke. It hadn’t been. He whimpers and shudders again as you tug at the strands of hair grasped in your hands. He moves to fully cover you with his body, sudden desperation written on his features. Your legs automatically open to accommodate him, wanting the proximity just as much as he does. His breath stutters in his chest when his own movements causes your grip to catch in his hair.

Sand be damned, you need him. You work your way impossibly closer to him. The distance between your bodies is completely erased until your pelvises are nestled together. You can already tell from the increased contact that he’s beginning to get hard. You’re sure that you both feel it when you throb in interest, starting to get properly slick with arousal in response.

“On top. Get on top, please,” he suddenly begs.

The moment you release him, he rolls onto his back. You’re pulled along with him in a messy tangle of limbs and sand until you’re seated astride him, positioned directly over his crotch. The change in position makes it abundantly clear how big he is. Eager to get your hands on him, you bypass your own pants and fumble open the button and zipper of his jeans. Shoving his underwear down just enough, you ease his growing erection free from its confines. He shudders at your touch, fingers grasping at the sand in the effort to restrain himself. You could consume him whole.

You grind down on his newly exposed cock. He pants at the feeling of denim against sensitive, skin and bucks upward to chase the friction. Lit by the moonlight, you admire the heaving of his chest and the arc of his neck as he tosses his head back in the sand to bare his throat. If only it wouldn’t be crass to mark it.

Barely able to believe that this moment is real, you touch the bare skin that’s been haunting you for far longer than even the thought of his cock has. His chest is warm against your fingers, flushed with the joy of being aroused and buzzed. You trace the space between his pecs and down towards the scant amount of buttons that are still secured. He doesn’t protest, only watches you with lidded eyes as you start undoing them to fully expose him.

He’s given up trying to hold himself back and has surrendered to the idea of putting his hands all over you. His touch is like a brand against your still clothed body. Colt’s fingers skim over your sides before he is forced to grab onto your thighs to anchor himself when you resume your exploration of his chest.

His shirt falls open under your wandering touch, revealing something you hadn’t expected. A pair of matching bars through his nipples greets you, nearly gleaming in the moonlight. He shivers at breeze skating over his chest and rolls his hips against you.

“Don’t these get in the way of stunts?” you question, mouth nearly hanging open. They’re wildly impractical, but at the same time, they’re so Colt.

Voice slurred, he gathers himself just enough to respond. “I just put a couple of those big band-aids on ‘em so they don't get snagged.”

“Huh,” you utter, wonderingly.

You run your finger over one of his nipples. It immediately reacts to your touch by growing plump and firm under your coaxing fingertip. You’re sure it must be flushed a rosy pink. Colt squirms, another whine making its way from his throat. He uses his grip on your thighs to drag you over his leaking cock. He’s fully hard now. You’re not sure if it's your pulse or his that you feel in your cunt.

You lean down and take one of his nipples into your mouth in a gesture born of impulsivity. He twists underneath you like he’s been shot as you suck hard, teasing the nub with the barest hint of teeth. The metal adorning it is cool against your tongue.

“Yeah. C’mon,” he says, breathless.

Encouraged, you start grinding against him in earnest. The friction borders on uncomfortable but you’re drunk and chasing a high. Colt certainly has no complaints. You’re starting to think he might like a little pain. He’s guiding your body against his, coaxing you into a steady rhythm. His firm grip has you feeling like a toy in his eager hands.

Your underwear is slick and you hiss at how stiff your clit is against the sodden material. It’s hard to tell how much of the precum is from you and how much is from the man frantically rutting against you. The stunt performer is leaking all over his belly and soaking the fabric of your jeans.

He’s so wet for me, you think dizzily.

“Can I put my fingers in you?” you ask, the thought out of your mouth before you can even process the need fully.

“Yes.” He has the relief in his voice of a dehydrating man finally given a drink of water.

Barely hanging onto enough sense to do so, you help him out of his plaid shirt and rise up onto your knees just enough to slide it under his bare ass when he manages to fumble around your thighs to get his pants down to his calves. It’s barely enough room to work with, but your body is burning with sheer want. With your fingers halfway to your mouth, you pause. The look in his eyes changes your mind and you make a split decision.

Pressing the pads of your fingers against his lips, you give him an order that’s bordering on a moan. “Suck.”

Colt obeys without a hint of hesitation. He envelops them into the wet heat of his mouth. His tongue laves over them. If you weren’t so focused on opening him up, you might be tempted to mount his face instead and put his mouth to another use.

With a wet noise, you withdraw your fingers from his mouth. They glisten wetly in the low light. A string of saliva trails after them, gossamer thin, before snapping under the tension. You shift, pinning his cock tighter against his lower belly and your still clothed crotch. He pants in anticipation of what he knows must be coming next and spreads his legs as wide as he’s able without his pants entirely off. You reach behind you and twist enough to slide your spit-slicked fingers between his cheeks.

A whimpering groan accompanies the barest intrusion. His lip ends up pinned between his teeth as you circle his hole, teasing. You slip one finger in, meeting minimal resistance. His hands find your thighs again and you feel his cock twitch and spurt. He’s so worked up that you don’t think he’ll last long. In a haze, you find that a second and third finger are swallowed up easily. The way he clenches down around them makes you wish you could stuff him full, get him drunk off your strap rather than mid-range beer. That thought drives you to cup the head of his cock in your other hand and rub the head of it with your thumb, caressing the dripping slit.

“You’re such a good boy, Colt,” you murmur, losing yourself in the pleasure of it all.

A breathy moan is all he can manage. Any semblance of words have have fled the scene the moment you started working him open.

The darkness is hiding the pleasant blush of his body that you know must be there. If only you could get him under a spotlight and frame him like the main character for once. You crook your fingers inside of him, seeking his prostate and Colt drags you down against him in just the right way in response to the attention to tip you over the edge. You cum hard, jerking in his hold and clamping your legs tight around his hips. Your noises and the way your body spasms on top of his pushes him over the finish line mere seconds after you hit the tape.

He groans your name. His entire body shudders as he orgasms. If it were possible, he’d have milked your fingers dry with each pulse of his cock. Hole still fluttering around your digits, you ease them free and shift enough to dismount. Colt mumbles a shaky thank you as you gently help him back into his jeans and redo the button and zip. Your own underwear is uncomfortably soaked, but you can’t bring muster up the will to care. Not when you’ve managed to wring such noises out of the man still trying to draw you back to him.

Pressing a kiss against his sternum, you make your way up between the channel of his pectorals, to his collarbone, his neck, his jaw, and finally to his mouth. He smiles into the kiss, satisfied and thoroughly spent. You separate from him and he nuzzles his nose against yours before you get too far. His breath ghosts over your kiss-swollen lips.

“Want to try to find the truck?” he asks, sounding on the verge of falling asleep.

“I’m comfortable here.”

You’re doubtful you could stand. Your legs feel as though they’re made of jelly. The journey to whatever parking lot Colt stashed his truck in feels far too daunting.

“Okay, baby.”

Heart leaping into your throat at the endearment, you tuck yourself against his side. The stunt man wraps his arm around you and coaxes you into laying your head on his wide shoulder. It’s a comforting anchor as the two of you make your bed in the sand.

───※ ·❆· ※───

You wake up to the sun cresting the horizon and the sound of crashing waves accompanied by throaty snoring. You’re laying with your head on Colt’s chest, having migrated in your sleep. The stunt man’s thick arm is still curled around you, his hand on your hip. His other arm is thrown across his eyes.

Patchy memories of the night before flash in your mind, but you cannot find it in yourself to be embarrassed. You’d bend him over in front of all your coworkers if that’s what it took to for you to get your hands on his tanned skin again.

Colt senses your movement and peels his arm off his face with a groan. He looks exhausted but perks up at the sight of you. His smile is brighter than the early dawn light. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” you say with a smile of your own.

[gummygowon]

silk | choi san

word count: 1.1k

genre: just like only smut, sub!san x soft dom!reader

warnings: minor dni! 18+, very slight mean dom!reader? praise, pillow humping <3, masturbation, phone sex, petnames (good boy, baby, mommy ehehe)

author's note: guys i went AWFFFFF love me some sub!san bless @lemonhongjoong for posting about pillow humper san ehehhe

taglist: @agustdiv1ne @shinestarhwaa

choi san was always the dominant one in your relationship when it came to sex. always taking care of your needs before his and leading everything but there have been a few instances where you saw his dominant side slip.

san tried to keep it under control though since he always wanted to take care of you and never the other way around.

except for right now, poor san was impatiently waiting for you to get home so he could take care of the raging boner he had since you kissed him good bye before you went off to work. yes, it was just an innocent kiss and he tried to jerk it off but somehow it just wouldn’t go away.

san tried his best to not even think about sex or you or the fact that everything in your apartment reminded of you. eventually, san gave up on waiting and resorted to jerking off with his hand just to the mere thought of what will happen tonight when you get home. usually, that would be enough to get him to come but for some reason it wasn’t. san struggled to finish and with his face flushed and his skin on fire, san desperately looked around the room to help him.

to his despair, he couldn’t find anything that could immediately feed his naughty thoughts. frustrated, the needy boy flopped onto your shared bed, his face smashing against your silk pillow.

it smelled dangerously too much like you. too much.

suddenly, a bright idea came over san as he stuffed your silk pillow in between his boxer-covered thighs.

“fuckkkkk.” san groaned, the smooth material felt like heaven on his overly sensitive body.

shyly, san gave an experimental roll of his hips as he pushed the pillow into his crotch.

“oh fuck! fuck shitttt.” he moaned the silk pillow felt so delicious against his covered crotch and with how much it smelled like you fucking hell it was everything he needed.

san thought about how fucking beautiful you are and your warm cunt always took his cock well. the way your walls would clench around his dick had him reeling sometimes. pause, not sometimes all the fucking time. fuck, nothing could beat out you sprawled on the very same bed as san fucked you deep into the sheets. he pictured himself pussy drunk as his hips would continuously slap against yours. he would whine for you to let him fill you up with his cum. god, he wanted to drive his cum right back into your tight little cunt as soon he came and just keep going.

these thoughts weren’t enough though. he needed more.

desperate, san reached over for his phone, hips still bucking up into the soft silk pillow. he was going to call you until he saw the text you sent telling him that the lab needed you overtime to finish testing something but that didn’t stop san at all. in a pathetic attempt to reach his high, he called you right away and prayed you picked up.

one ring right by.

fuck, he needed you so badly. tears were forming on his pretty eyelashes at this point.

a second ring went off and san was so close to fully crying on the phone.

finally, at the third ring you picked up. “san? what is it? i’m really busy right now baby.”

“y/n,” san whined into the phone, he didn’t really give a shit that you were at work.

“oh my god, san are you okay?” you ask completely oblivious to his acts on the other side of the phone.

a whimper slipped his lips, “i’m fine just-fuck-can you talk to me?”

“san?” you ask one more time, you had a sneaking suspicion he was masturbating but never in your life had you heard san whimper.

quickly, you excuse yourself to the bathroom leaving your coworker to record the results by herself.

“i need you,” san whined into the phone. you could almost hear his lip trembling from the other end.

you’ve never seen this side of san before and it turned you on more than anything. you could feel the arosual pooling in between your legs as you heard of more san’s pathetic whimpers.

“what’s wrong baby?” you ask teasingly, it’s only fair since he disturbed you at work. “i can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“i-shit,” he groaned into the phone, you could hear shuffling on the other end, “i can’t- can’t.”

“you can‘t what baby boy?” you asked once more. you were surprising yourself with every sentence that came out your mouth. you didn’t think you would be so talkative domming.

“i ccan’t get off, i need you. fuck! so badly.” san confessed.

“oh? is that so?”

a soft whimper left his lips, "can you guide me? please."

"since you asked so nicely sannie." you coo at him causing san to buck his hips particularly hard into the pillow at the nickname. "just roll your hips baby, pretend it's me splayed on that bed instead of the pillow. you can do that for me can't you?"

"yyes-yes, i can!"

"good, such a good boy for me. right sannie?"

"yes! i'm your good boy!" he cries into the phone, his hips quickening.

you could hear san's heavy breaths become labored as the muffling sounds from the phone became louder. "is my good boy almost there?"

"yes-yes, can i come? i've been good, haven't i?" san begs into the phone.

"not yet baby, you can hold on a little longer can't you?" you tease into the phone. oh were you gonna have so much fun when you got home today.

"please, y'nnie. i'm soso close!"

"not yet," you answer with a stern voice, "this is what you get for interrupting me at work. did you really think you could get away with this? calling me at work because you couldn't get yourself off?"

"i'm sorry, i couldn't wait. i just-i needed you so badly." san cries into the phone, rambling on about being sorry and he was so so needy for you.

you let san continue to babble finding it amusing yet arousing seeing your such dominant boyfriend be at your mercy for once.

"please! i promise i'll be a good boy from now on."

you took a second to respond, wanting to hear more of san's pretty moans. "come now, sannie"

"fuckfuckfuck!" you hear him groan, as the muffled sounds from the pillow come to a slow.

"there's my good boy," you praise, "you did so well for me."

"thank you, mommy."

you freeze at the new petname, you've never topped before so you never been called that before but god, did you find it hot.

"i mean-" san stutters trying to correct himself.

"it's okay sannie, i like it."

"oh-"

"i'll see you when i get home okay? clean up and get ready for me, okay?"

"yes!"

"yes what, baby?"

"yes, mommy!"

"that's my good boy."

oh, you were definitely gonna have fun tonight.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

A Fine Line [part 1]

Summary: You've been with Aegon for a little over four years and the relationship just isn't the same. His brother isn't helping the situation, either. This is a Modern Day AU!

Pairing: Aegon x Reader / Aemond x Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Author’s Note: Guys, I think it goes without saying that you should never cheat on anyone. Just don’t do it. This is a complete re-write of an old Marvel idea that I had. It is also my very first HOTD fic, so I am open to any feedback that you may have. This man just has a motherfuckin' hold on me, like I don't even know what happened. Nevertheless, I hope that you enjoy this! Please let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Warnings for the entire series: severe angst, cheating, unprotected sex, jealousy, lying, possessiveness, stalking, manipulation, and language.

Masterlist & Playlist

You felt the bed shift.

The sun hadn’t yet made a break in the early morning sky, and the room was still dark; only dimly lit by the bathroom light that had just been turned on. You could hear the faucet running and the faint sound of teeth being brushed as you reached over and checked the time. The intense light of the screen made your vision blur and eyes squint, but after a few blinks, you could make out those three numbers; 5:06 AM.

A shadow moved along the hallway walls, and you quickly placed your phone back on the bedside table and turned on your side. With your eyes clamped shut, you listened as he moved around the room, mentally picturing every action; opening the closet door, pulling a shirt from the hanger, crossing the room to the dresser, finding a pair of socks and boxers in the drawer. It was the same every morning, every day, at the same time. 

Aegon wasn’t Aegon without his daily routine; wake up, brush teeth, shower, breakfast, work, lunch, work, home, dinner, bed. You used to enjoy it, the structure that you had both brought to each other's lives. It was a complete change from when you had first met him. He used to be completely haphazard; snoozing through every alarm and perpetually late, but he had come into his own after he had met you.

You used to wake up with him and get an early start on your day; making breakfast together, sitting at the table together, reading your emails while he scrolled through the news. You'd make plans for dinner and talk about your friends, and your jobs, and you'd laugh and joke. And it used to be nice. But now you just pretended to be asleep, waiting until he left before getting out of bed. 

You wondered if it was wrong to do that, because, to you, it certainly felt like it was. Aegon brought it up, too, a couple of times; always wanting to know if something was wrong, or if you were okay. Truth be told, you weren't even sure of the reason for the change, so you just told him that you were tired and that work was stressful.

Often, you wondered if maybe you should start again.

Start trying...

Maybe it’d make things better. 

Or as your best friend, coworker, and self-proclaimed love guru, Baela, liked to say, there was no getting better. According to the white-haired cynic, the vast majority of relationships are doomed from the start, and that you should take your unhappiness as a sign that things just weren’t meant to work out with Aegon. 

Some mornings, you’d look in the mirror- bare feet cold on the tile floor, hands gripping the sides of the porcelain sink- and asked yourself if Bae was right; if all of this was a sign that you just weren’t meant to be. You’d ask yourself if you really loved Aegon, and if it’d be better to break things off than to dig yourself in deeper. You knew that the answer was probably ‘yes’, because if the answer was ‘no’, you wouldn’t even be asking those questions in the first place.

But then you’d remember what it was like to be together when the two of you first started dating, and couldn’t help but hope that one day it’d go back to that. Fooling yourself into believing that this was just something that all couples went through, and allowing yourself to continue on with your boring, auto-pilot type life.

The subway platform was cold and damp as you waited in the crowd of a hundred people. Melting snow from the streets above had water dripping down the walls, and it smelled of musty leather and dirty shoes. Your scarf and jacket weren’t doing much to keep you warm, and you cursed yourself for not grabbing your gloves before you left the house. Although, you probably wouldn’t have kept them on very long because you couldn’t use your phone while wearing them.

It was the first week of January. Christmas and New Years had come and gone and people were making their way back to work after a long weekend. In the office, there was a giant board in the break room for people to write down their resolutions; serving as a reminder to keep people on track for the first few months. Most of them were ‘eat healthy’ and ‘exercise more’, and most people would fall off the wagon before February.

Baela was already at her desk when you got to your tiny, cluttered, shared cubicle. A red coffee cup in one hand and cellphone in the other; her hair was pinned up to perfection and shined underneath the fluorescent lights; swaying softly as she turned around in her desk chair. 

“Good morning!” She said with a smile. “Coffee’s on your desk.”

“Thank you,” you replied. “I didn’t have time to stop this morning.” You shrugged out of your jacket and hung it over the back of the chair before grabbing the small, cardboard cup and bringing it to your lips; eyes fluttering shut at the taste and warmth of the beverage. “You’re too good to me, B.”

“I know,” she replied with a kind smile. “How was your weekend? Did you and Aegon do anything exciting?”

“We stayed home, had a couple glasses of champagne and watched the ball drop.” You replied with your back turned to your coworker, fingers dancing over the keyboard as you logged into your computer. “I broke out that pretty, purple lace lingerie set,” Baela made a sound to let you know that she was still listening. “He said that he really liked it, but he didn’t want to do anything because he was too tired, and had to go into work early.”

You could hear her clicking her tongue against her teeth. 

“It’s like, we have these really good moments together,” you continued. “And most of the time, things are pretty good, but they just aren’t the same. There’s no passion, or spontaneity, it’s like we don’t have fun anymore.”

“Yeah, but you guys have been together for a few years,” Baela replied, turning slightly in her chair to look at you. “Relationships usually change after awhile, that’s normal.”

“Bae, the last time we really had fun was Tyland’s birthday.”

"Our boss Tyland?" She gulped. You nodded and her eyes widened in disbelief. "But that was last May!"

“That’s exactly my point.”

“Speaking of birthdays,” Baela began, finally changing the subject. “I was planning to celebrate Jace's is on Saturday, and I was thinking we could take him out for a few drinks, let him beat us both at bowling, I might even make a cake.”

“I can do Saturday,” you replied as you marked the date on your desk calendar.

“Great!” Baela exclaimed. “He’ll really like that, I think.”

As if on queue, Jace popped his head over the wall of your cubicle, eyebrows raised. “Hey ladies,” he said smoothly with a slight smile. “How are you both on this Monday morning?”

“Great!" Baela answered first with a wide, sparkling smile. 

“I wouldn’t have used that much enthusiasm, but sure, it’s great.” You mumbled in return, not taking your gaze off of your calendar after having noticed that it was almost four years to the day that you met Aegon. Little, red hearts outlined the box that marked the day. 

You remembered that day so vividly, as if it was just yesterday; stumbling out of the snow and into an inviting coffeeshop on the corner of 39th & 7th. Your boss had asked you, of all people, to interview the son of the President & CEO of the most well-known oil company in the world regarding the mass job cuts that continued during the COVID-19 pandemic. He was late to the interview by twenty-three minutes and you found it out-of-place that he wasn't wearing a suit. His hair was unkempt and his blazer was not doing a very good job of hiding a toothpaste stain on his button-up. And to make matters worse, he wasn't wearing his mask properly.

"Thank you for waiting, the train ran late." He greeted as he shook the snow from his hair and extended his hand to you. The closer he became, the more apparent it was that he was either high or hungover. "Aegon."

"Y/N," you replied and gestured towards the table. "Your assistant said that you liked one cream and two sugars?"

What was supposed to be a 30-45 minute interview turned into an hour and a half long conversation. Aegon had an answer for every one of your pointed questions, and gave great responses about the future of the company with his father's dwindling health and the succession of his business- which was what everyone really cared about, really. But you found yourself nearly hanging on every word, even if you truly thought most of it was bullshit. There was something you found incredibly attractive about his sarcastic smile and the way that he quipped back at you when you'd try to back him into a corner.

When it came to the article, you didn't hold back- you couldn't; blasting Aegon for his unprofessionalism and the excuses that he made for his father and grandfather regarding the layoffs. After the paper was printed and distributed, you received a bouquet for roses to your desk with a card that read, "Thank you for your honesty and the conversation. Let me take you out on a real coffee date some time? 212-555-8598"

You remember the look on Baela's face as she stood over your shoulder reading the tiny, rectangular card along with you. Her elbow digging into your side as she wagged her eyebrows, teasing you as if you were children. But nevertheless, you did text him, and you did let him take you out on that date, and you had been together ever since.

“Hello?” Jace’s voice pierced through your thoughts. “Earth to Y/N! You coming to the meeting or are you just going to sit at your desk and daydream all day?”

You looked up to see Baela and Jace both standing, waiting for you. There was a mandatory team meeting in five minutes. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.” You said quickly, grabbing your coffee and following your coworkers towards the conference room.

“What’s got your head in the clouds?” Bae asked under her breath as you walked side-by-side.

“Just thinking about when Aegon and I first met," you replied.

She just shook her head at you and took her seat at the table, pulling a pen from behind her ear, and waited for the meeting to start. Her face was determined and focused, ready to spill all of her new ideas for this week’s paper, and knowing Baela, she had a million and one. 

After the meeting, you both went straight back to work, only letting up off of your keyboard for your lunch hour. Your cubicle mate was strictly relationship advice, and had an entire bin in the mail room dedicated to letters from her fans; who were mostly women in their late 30′s to mid 40′s, wondering what to do about their lazy husband who failed to notice that they got their hair cut.

You had your own column that was rightfully called ‘Popular Now’, where you wrote about everything that was popular that week; including television shows, music, people, movies, and restaurants. Sometimes you got to go to fancy restaurants and club openings, movie premiers, and concerts. Despite your life long dream to be a front-page, investigative crime journalist, you enjoyed your job and the perks it offered. 

“You want to go grab a drink?” Baela asked, turning off her computer. She had a stack of fan mail in her hand. “We can read about all the horrible break ups that happened this past week.”

“As fun as that sounds,” you began. “I have to go to the grocery store before I head home. I’m making Linguine tonight. Aegon's favorite.” You said as you shut off your desk lamp and began stuffing some papers into you bag.

“Suit yourself,” she replied with a shrug. “I’ll ask Jace.”

“You two have fun, then!”

The streets were overcrowded with overworked city-dwellers who were desperate to get home. The wind had picked up significantly since that morning, numbing your face as you walked through the crowd of double-breasted, suit wearing men and women who were yakking on their phones about what was for dinner. Your tights did nothing to keep your knees from shaking, and you started to regret your decision to walk instead of call a cab. It would have only taken longer for the latter in the stop-and-go traffic of rush hour.

You tried to call Aegon once you got into the store to make sure that there wasn’t anything else he needed added to the list, but he didn’t answer. He barely ever did. He was almost always on his phone, taking business calls and messages for his father, but could never answer the phone for you. At this point you didn’t even bother leaving a message, knowing that he wouldn’t take the time to return it.

After you had made your way through the aisles with your basket in hand, you walked towards the checkout lanes, only to find two long lines that were moving much, too slow. Your foot tapped impatiently against the floor as you waited. You turned your head slightly, watching as more and more patrons continued to line up with their carts. You noticed the gentleman standing behind you with only one item. He looked oddly familiar, but you shrugged him off as just being another hipster guy with long hair.

"Would you like to go in front of me?" You asked him politely.

The corners of his lips turned into a small smile as he eyed your basket. "I appreciate the gesture," his voice was smooth. "Are you sure you don't mind?" You shook your head and stepped to the side for him to move in front of you. "Thank you."

"Of course," you responded.

The line was still moving painfully slow; coming to a halt as the cashier called for a manager on the overhead speaker over the price of a shampoo bottle. Your eyes perused the magazines on the shelf to your left, glossing over the headlines and laughing to yourself at the more ridiculous ones. As you continued to wait, you couldn't help but steal another glance at the man now standing in front of you. Your eyes must have lingered a little longer than they should've, tracing across his sharp features, because you were brought back to reality when you heard him clear his throat- his steely gaze returning yours.

"I'm sorry," you confessed to him as your cheeks grew warm. "You just look so incredibly familiar and I can't put my finger on it- have we met?"

"You're implying that I'm forgettable," he responded with a smirk. "I don't think we have, I would certainly remember if we had as there is nothing forgettable about you." Your blush only intensified as he held his hand out and took your hand into his. "I'm Aemond."

"Y/N," you replied, fingers curing around his. "Wait, Aemond?" It finally clicked. This was Aegon's brother that you had never met due to the fact that he was always traveling for business. You had only seen his picture on your refrigerator a million times. Only, in the picture he was about twenty years younger, his cheeks were more plump, and he had both eyes. "You're Aegon's brother, there's a picture of the two of you as kids on our fridge."

"You must be his lady, then." He replied and you thought you could hear a hint of disappointment in his voice. You hadn't even realized that he was still holding on to your hand until he dropped it. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"The pleasure is mine," you smiled as he placed his item onto the conveyor belt as the line began to move again. "Aegon says that you are always traveling for work? How long are you in town for?"

“I actually got promoted,” he replied and you placed the plastic divider on the belt, signaling to the cashier where his order stopped and yours began. "I’m home for good now.”

“Oh that’s great!” You exclaimed. “You should come by some time. I’m sure Aegon would love to see you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he handed his card to the cashier. “I will.” He took his bag from the end of the counter and looked back at you one last time before taking his receipt from the cashier. “I’ll see you around, then.” 

You nodded as the cashier asked if you had your discount card.  

Aegon wasn’t home when you got there, and you reveled in coming home to an empty apartment. It was so quiet; no loud television or hour long conversations with his financial advisers about the business. Just the sounds of boiling water and the sizzling of shrimp in the frying pan. 

It was peaceful.

You stood in front of the refrigerator staring at the small photo of Aegon and his brother held to the stainless steel with a smiley face magnet. Aemond's freckles and messy hair, Aegon's toothy grin and mischievous eyes as they pulled funny faces for the camera. Aegon didn't talk about his brother much, but you knew that he missed him.

“Yeah man! It’ll be great to have you around again.” You heard the front door open shortly after you drained the noodles, signaling that Aegon was home. The door slammed behind him, followed by the thud of his briefcase on the living room floor. “You should definitely come by soon,” he said loudly into his phone. Moments later, he joined you in the kitchen and placed a kiss on the side of your cheek without saying a word and then headed up the stairs to change into something more comfortable. “I can’t wait for you to meet, Y/N. You’re going to love her, brother.”

You smiled to yourself as you pushed the shrimp around in the pan one last time before shutting off the heat. Everything looked and smelled amazing, and you couldn’t wait for Aegon to try it. You had the table completely set up; white wine, the nice plates that were only for when there was company, and the candles were burning. 

“Hey babe,” he said as he stepped back into the kitchen. “That was Aemond. He’s back in town for good now, he’s going to come for dinner Friday night.”

“That’s great!” You replied, and Aegon picked a plate off of the table. 

“He’s excited to finally meet you.” He was grinning from ear to ear. “I was thinking maybe you could invite Baela?” he followed up as he sat the plate on the counter next to you and moved to grab a bottle of beer from the fridge. “So that you have someone to talk to if we get caught up in catching up."

“Y-yeah,” you replied with your back to him, wondering why Aemond didn’t mention your run-in at the grocery store. “That sounds like a great idea.” You placed the pot on the kitchen table with an oven mitt underneath and took to your usual seat. 

Aegon, still standing, hurriedly fixed himself a plate and popped a shrimp in his mouth. “Mm, this is delicious. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to eat in the office. I have a lot of work to catch up on.” He told you quickly and dashed up the stairs.

Before you could say anything, he was already gone.

You took a sip from your wine glass and sighed, staring at the dinner you had prepared. Despite how hungry you might have been before you cooked dinner, your appetite seemed to have completely vanished. You didn’t even bother to fix yourself a plate, just finished your wine instead before standing up and putting the leftovers away. 

[t43andbooks]

Pairing: Ranpo Edogawa x reader

Wc: 500+

Note: very short..

————

It was autumn, the crunch of the orange and brown leaves you stepped on reminding you with each step. You had just finished a grueling, time consuming mission given to you by the boss, you had decided on the way back to the agency that you would take the time to relax under one of the trees that held the most shade.

In the middle of the empty park you stood in front of, there was a gigantic oak tree, large spots of shade rest under it, the best place to relax really.

It was eye catching, orange leaves falling and gathering underneath it, the smallest streaks of light shining in the spaces through the leaves and branches. It was calming enough for you to take a nap under— though you shouldn’t take long, Kunikida might scold you for missing work.

Walking towards it you had checked the time, at least twenty minutes to rest wouldn’t hurt.

Reaching it, you laid down, brushing a few leaves away so they wouldn’t tangle and get stuck in your hair.

You shut your eyes slowly, relaxing into the grass hill you laid upon, ready to fall asleep.

Until, you heard the quiet click of someone’s heels nearing you with every step, you instantly recognized the familiar sound.

You didn’t open your eyes though— waiting for him to announce himself to you. You could hear the sound of clothes rustling as he crouched next to you.

You could feel a slight tickle underneath your nose , opening your eyes your gaze flitted to the man next to you, with a hand on his hat to keep it from falling and the other holding a small leaf, the culprit. He had a smirk on his face as he greeted you.

“Where have you been?” Ranpo asked (more like whined.) as he tossed the leaf to the side, you turned to lay on your side and face him entirely. “Lay with me, will you?” You uttered, he had a reluctant look on his face— but ultimately gave in to your wishes.

Your faces were much closer now, “I wanted to take a break, I had finished my mission a bit early but it was pretty tiring.” You answered his question after a moment. While you talked, his hand raised to play with your hair, lightly twirling a strand between his fingers.

He stopped after a few moments and cupped your face with his hand, bringing you even closer in the process, eyes fluttering shut— your lips interlocked, leaving butterflies in your stomach.

You don’t usually exchange kisses like this, surround by your coworkers on the regular wouldn’t allow you to. Though when you can, you absolutely revel in it. Not many people know about your relationship, save for Dazai, that nosy bastard, and the boss.

Separating, you take the time to admire his features. You raise a hand to wrap around his waist as you nuzzled your noses together.

“How long do you plan on staying here?” He asked in a modulated tone, “‘bout ten minutes or so? Mm, stay with me.”

You know he would like to sit at his desk snacking on the candy he hoards in his safe— but if he has a chance to sleep with you, even for just a little while he’ll take it.

He tucked his head underneath yours as he answered, “Fine.”

[tenshioffcial]

Kim Minji, you are my starlight.

Summary: People hate androids, so what happens when an open-minded human meets her own android at her front door?

Genre: Robot!Reader, NonIdol!Minji, Fluff.

Warnings!// Deviants, Toxic relationship, Robot x Human relationship.

Minji's POV:

It was a rainy day and I had to work once again at the office. My coworkers all are leaving but like always I stayed late because I Have nothing better to do, but a voice cu me out of my thoughts. "Hey Minji!" I looked up it was Hanni. "Hey. What's up Hanni?" She smiled at me. "Guess what?" I shrugged. "What is it, Han?" She sighed and huffed a little. "You're not good at guessing. I am buying you a big birthday present!" I gasped. "Wait what is it?" She laughed at me. "You don't get to know but I will tell you this...It's a big gift that will arrive on your doorstep within the next couple of weeks." I started thinking about the possibilities of what it could be. "Fine but if I hate it. You are never going to hear the end of it." She laughed again. "Okay then. Noted." with that she left. it started to get late so I packed up and left to head home, but when I arrived there was a big box inside my house. I gasped and was jaw dropped. I read cyberlife on the side of the box. "Oh my god! Hanni! I don't know why this is making me nervous!?" I set my stuff down and took my shoes off and walked in front of the box taking in a deep breath.

I was about six years old, and my parents were always busy, so they bought me an android, so I wasn't alone anymore. Her name was 'Scarlett' we played a lot, and she would feed me and keep the house clean and helped me with homework. I one day came home from school and it was eerily quiet. I walked inside and then got grabbed by Scarlett. "Scarlett what's going on?" I asked her in a panic. "You and me can be friends forever and I can give you a better life if you come with me." I didn't know what to do since I was only six. "I don't think I should Scarlett. You aren't yourself anymore." She hated that response and grabbed me rather harshly by the arm. I heard the doorknob unlock on the front door. "Daddy-..." She pulled out his pistol and shot him. "No! Daddy!" I yanked trying to free my arm, I got free then ran for my room and locked the door. She was banging on it from the other side. "Please let me in Minji Sweetie. I am sorry I hurt your father, but I won't hurt you or your mother." I dialed nine one, one. 'This is 911 what's your emergency?' I cried a little hearing a warning shot go off. 'H-hello I need the police.' I got transferred over to the police. 'Hi there what's the emergency?' I panicked again because she shot another shot towards the door but she missed on purpose. "Minji! Come out now!'" 'There is an lose android in my home.' He calmed his tone. 'What's your name sweetheart?' 'M-minji, Kim Minji sir.' 'Okay sweetheart we've got our best men on the way please hold on tight sweetie.' 'Okay thank you.' I started sobbing. 'She shot my dad.' He sighed on the other end. 'I'm sorry to hear that honey. Everything will be okay. Stay on the phone with me till they arrive.' I heard another shot go off and she only missed because I dropped to the ground. I had to speak barely above a whipser.

'She keeps firing at my bedroom door she thinks she got me but she missed.' He sighed seeming thankful I was okay. 'Okay stay down on the ground and pretend to be dead as best you can sweetie they are about to be there.' 'Okay thank mister officer.' 'You're welcome honey.' A few minutes later the cops arrived and shot her down and they got me out of my room. My mom got called too and she lost it when she found out my father died. "I'm so sorry sweetie. I'm so sorry." I cried into her shoulder, but I never wanted to see another android again.

I don't understand it but this time feels different. I finally got the courage to open the door on the box and the android inside is beautiful looks like she was sculpted by gods. Her short red hair along with her soft and gentle facial features. The info on the booklet in her box with her told me her model was AT700, she is "5'8. It also says to turn her on I need to press and hold the LED on her temple for 10 seconds. I do so and she woke up almost human like. Her LED on her temple started yellow but changed to the blue then she looked at me. "Hi, I'm your new android. My name is Y/n. Nice to meet you. What's your name?" She asked me. "Ki-Kim Minji. Nice to meet you too Y/n." Her LED turned yellow as she took that information in. "I'm an android built for being, a friend, a maid, a housekeeper, a romantic partner or whatever you want of me." She spoke which made me blush a little. "I am okay with you being my friend Y/n." I smiled softly at her. "Okay Minji. I also can cook too and since it is a little past dinner time I will handle it." I went to protest but I need a shower so. I went and showered and then went into my room and got dressed in some lazy at home clothes, when I came out of my room food smelled amazing. I walked into the kitchen and seen her cooking food for me which was nice since I didn't need to worry about it. She turned around and smiled at me which her smile was almost what I would say is a real smile.

"Thank you for the food, Y/n. I appreciate it." She smiled again. "It's no big deal. Do you want me to eat with you?" I looked at her like she was insane. "Androids can't eat, can they?" She nodded but moved her hand gesturing a sort of. "I can because I am made to test the food first before I serve it to you. But if one doesn't want to eat alone I can for that too." I smiled. "You can if you want too." Her LED flashed yellow then red for a second but then it turned blue again. She got her own plate and ate with me. I offered to wash dishes, but she insisted it was fine so i went into the living room to watch a kdrama. Once she was done, she came to get me for bed. "It is about time for you to sleep Ms. Kim." I blushed from the name. "I will go to bed, but I have thirty minutes left of this episode." She nodded and sat down next to me and even opened her arms for me to snuggle. I ended up falling asleep before I finished the episode.

I woke up in my bed, but I sat up looking around and realized I was laying her chest. I jumped up but she looked toward me with concern. "What's wrong Minji?" I started giggling at myself for the behavior. "Nothing is... I just am not used to waking up with someone else in my bed with me." She looked relieved but her LED turned yellow and then blue before she spoke. "Well, I am sorry if you want, I can sit in your chair over there instead of climbing in your bed with you." She pointed over to the chair in the corner of the room, I shook my head. "No. It okay. I just need to get used to it." She nodded. "Well, I'm going to go make breakfast. I assumed you needed to shower so I gathered clothes for you already. Hopefully you like what I picked out." with that she stood up and left the room. I however turned into a blushing mess because she got my clothes. 'God why is it a problem that she got them for me? maybe because I have sexy undies and such. goodness quit being weird Minji.' I went and got in the shower and did my makeup and what not, then I did a once over on the fit and she was not wrong. A satin white button up with a black pencil skirt and some nice black flats to go with it. I came out the restroom and once again my nose smelled the best food ever. "What'd you make for me today?" I asked her. "It is an omelet with some toast and bacon." I gasped that sounds yummy. "Yum!" was my instant response. I sat down and ate in a hurry because I was kind of late on waking up. "Okay I got to go to work but I will be back by tonight anywhere from 8pm to 10pm unless I choose to stay then 12pm. I'll see you later Y/n." I waved and she did too.

Y/n's POV:

I was left alone and had no idea what to do, I could figure out if I have what I need to make dinner for Minji. I walked over to the fridge and found everything I needed and then decided to clean up and make sure all her laundry was done and that the dishes were all clean, once I was done with the dishes I heard a knock. I was hesitant to open the door but opted to do it anyways because Minji, my owner isn't home, so I did it for her. "Hello there what can I do for you?" I asked politely. "Is Minji here?" A younger looking male asked. "No but I can give her a message for you if you want." I offered since she wasn't home. "Can you just tell her I stopped by?" He asked. "Sure thing Mr.?" He pulled his hand out to shake mine, to which I took the opportunity to shake his hand. "Heeseung. Lee Heeseung." I smiled at him. "Okay Heeseung, I'll make sure she gets your message." He smiled then left.

Time Skip~

Minji's POV:

I arrived home a little past 10, worried a little about my android being alone. I opened the door and dinner was just being finished. "Hi Minji!" was her cheerful response to me coming in. "Hi Y/n. How are you today?" She froze again, LED turning yellow then red then back to blue. "I'm always fine, I was made for being an android to take care of the house when one leaves it. I made Tteokbokki for dinner." I gasped so hard at what she said. "Okay. I'm so excited to eat." I hurried up and went to the restroom and washed my hands so I could come eat, when I came out Y/n was already seated at the table waiting for me. I sat across from her. "So, a guy came by asking about you earlier Minji." I froze a little. "W-who was he?" She looked like she was remembering what she heard earlier. "He said his name was Heeseung and he wanted me to tell you he came by." She continued eating but I knew it was time for me to finally break it off with him. "I got to call him and break it off with him." She stopped eating. "What do you mean?" she genuinely looked like she actually cared. "He and I were in a relationship, but I can't do it anymore with him." her LED turned yellow then back to blue, once again processing the information. We finished eating dinner, she washed the dishes, I showered then got in bed and she followed. "Hey... Y/n?" She looked down at me. "Yes Minji?" I took in a deep breath. "You'll never leave me, right?" I looked up at her, her LED turned yellow then red then blue again. "Never. I'm your android till you choose to get rid of me." She spoke so calmly. I sighed and fell asleep all snuggled into her chest.

I woke up alone in bed this time, concerned I got up and walked to the kitchen to see her cooking breakfast for me again. She turned around and smiled at me. "Oh, you're up. I was going to bring you breakfast in bed." She turned around to continue cooking. I however started smiling like a fool. "Oh, thank you Y/n. I'll be right back." I went to the bathroom and shut the door calmly behind me, but I started blushing and hitting my chest because my heart was pounding out of my chest. Finally, I finished using the toilet and I washed my hands coming out to eat now. I got seated while she brought me coffee and my plate "Thank you Y/n." She smiled again. "You're welcome Minji.' We started eating and then there was a knock on the door. "Do you want me to get that Minji?" she asked me. I shook my head. "No, I got it Y/n." I stood up checking the peep hole- Shit it is Heeseung. I opened it and greeted him. "Hi Heeseung. I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go somewhere for coffee." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, it's whatever, can I come in?" I nodded so he walked in. "Woah! I forgot you have an android." He smiled and waved at her, to which she responded the same way. "Should I give you privacy Minji?" She asked me. "No, you can stay it's fine." I gestured my hands telling her to sit back down at the table. "So, is this what you've been doing? Playing house... WITH YOUR FUCKING ANDROID!?" He threw a flower vase and shattered. He got closer towards me scaring me. "What the fuck Heeseung!? I am literally almost always at work; I don't have time for you anymore because of it." I started shaking from anger now. "And who are you to judge me!? You've literally cheated on me!" He then throws my tv to the floor. "Fuck you Minji!" He got closer to me pinning me against the wall, i tried to escape I kicked his shin and ran for my bedroom.

Y/n's POV:

I watched Heeseung follow Minji to her room and her panicked breathing following suit. I felt a weird error. I swear I could see me breaking through a wall and I watched it burst with my final slam against it. I ran into her room to find him pinning her into her bed trying to force himself on her. I grabbed him and threw him into the floor. "What the fuck!? I thought you androids weren't supposed to do this shit." He stood up and tried to punch me, I grabbed his arm. "You might want to think before laying your hands on women you fucking sick bastard." I flung his arm, but I dared to hit him back. "Stop it Heeseung get out!" Minji finally yelled. He huffed. "I'm glad I cheated. You never were good enough. You know... You two deserve each other." He pointed to me and Minji. Finally, he stomps out of here and slams her door behind him. I rushed over to her to comfort her. She tensed up under my hold for a second but relaxed into it and cried on me. "Why couldn't he not act like an asshole!?" Her loud sobs could be heard but I rubbed her back. "It's okay Minji. I promise I'm not going anywhere." I hugged tighter but was careful.

Time Skip~

It was about lunch time, and she was sleeping on my chest which I couldn't describe how it made me feel yet, but it was a warm comforting feeling. I tried to get out of her hold, but she felt me and got up too. "Wh-where are you going?' she asked groggily. "I need to make you lunch." She nodded. "Well don't leave me alone. I wanna come with you." she yawned as she spoke. I stood waiting for her to finish using the restroom. After she came out, we walked into the living room/kitchen area and there was broken glass from her tv and vase shards too. I put an arm out to stop her from walking forward, then I went and got the broom and dustpan to clean it up. Once I was done, she wanted to help make lunch which I let her since she didn't want to be alone. Once we finished making Gimbap, we sat down and ate lunch in the quiet. I took our dishes to the sink and washed them afterwards. I walked toward the living room noticing her standing there shaking a little. "Are you... O-okay Minji?" she started shaking her head. "No, I'm not Y/n." I sighed. I... I want to hold her. No that is wrong I shouldn't 'want' to hold her. I walked forward unsure of what I was hoping for, and I opened my arms to her, which she actually accepted. I snuggled my nose in her hair taking in her scent. "It's going to be okay Minji." She started sobbing harder against me. "I need to buy a new tv now thanks to him and that vase was my mothers." she trembled at the end. "it's okay Minji. I can replace them for you if you want?" She shook her head. "No, I need to buy this myself." she sat up wiping her eyes, she gasped like she just realized something. "Oh my god! you are a deviant, aren't you?" I couldn't make eye contact at first, but she turned my face towards hers. "Yeah. I did it for you because he was gonna... he was gonna hurt you and I couldn't bear the thought." she gasped again a smaller one this time, but she then leaned in and kissed my cheek. "Thank you, Y/n." she hugged me. I finally can put a name on this feeling she is making me have. I love her, I am deeply in love with this girl, and she was going to be the death of me. She is my starlight.

A/n: My god this took me a lot longer than I anticipated but hopefully you all enjoy. I will make another part to this, and I promise it'll be good and a little smutty... 😉

[cheapsugar]

ONE SHOT 02. vil x idia title: thunderstorm contains: hurt comfort, fluff-ish, aged up (this is pg, don't worry) summary: idia shows up at vil's door for the first time in seven years. note: the thing about me is that i love a little "i know i haven't seen you in years but i miss you" moment! please enjoy! i actually had this like 1/4th written for a year but didn't know how i wanted it to end. and then, suddenly, it came to me! she/he vil and he/they idia as usual, i am betaless so sorry if i totally missed any oopsies in the editing process!

Vil Schoenheit was never much of a dater. And tonight continued to prove that fact.

It had been fine, all things considering. It was normal enough. Dinner with a coworker who she had been enjoying spending time with. They had gone to a restaurant that the coworker had heard of. It was nice, albeit attempting too hard to be fancy. 

Regardless, she had honored it by wearing a neat white jumpsuit with golden accessories. He had done his hair to the side, falling over his shoulders—the length of it now hitting past them.

Sometimes he still wasn't used to it. She had started growing it out sometime after her fourth year at NRC. A...much needed change after events he didn't care to remember. Even if it had happened in, what feels like, long ago now. Vil was now 26... and yet the pain of back then still felt fresh sometimes...

'Don't think about that now.' He thinks to herself.

What had he been reflecting on again...? Ah, right.

The date had gone fine. And, she would even go as far as to say she had fun. But, that's pretty much all she had. There wasn't a spark, there wasn't that romantic pull. She hadn't even invited him inside when he had dropped her off. By the time they had returned to their car to leave, Vil had already slipped off her heels and placed them at the side of the front door to properly put them away later.

He decided right then and there that he wasn't going to ask for a second date. That, once again, it felt like things were destined for more platonic intentions. And, now-a-days, Vil isn't quite sure if it was the people he was dating or because of...well...himself.

And as she sits on the couch in her living room, a soft lamp illuminating the space around her as the soft sound of rain on the window pattered away—Vil recounted the date to Rook via text message. Who, as always, sensationalized Vil being wrapped in 'cupid's quest'. A statement that wasn't false but wasn't particularly true either. The truth of the matter is that Vil hadn’t really been looking for a relationship for…a while now. Every date has been initiated by someone else. 

‘I’m married to my career.’ A common statement uttered out of his mouth quite often. In conversations, in interviews… She’s basically made herself the poster child for all who were overworked. A fact she’d like to think didn’t actually apply to her but, the last several years of packed scheduling between photoshoots, auditions and acting gigs proved otherwise. Working had truly been all he knew. Much to the dismay of, not only his friends, but of her father as well. 

Every other phone call consisted of his father telling him on and on about how he should give himself a break. How there’s a life to live and that she needs to go out there and live it. To which she’d remind him that a lot of her roles lead her all over Twisted Wonderland. So, there was a lot of ‘life’ she was seeing.

Rook Hunt: He is right, though, mon cher.

Vil Schoenheit: I do not need a lecture from you as well, Rook.

Rook Hunt: Lecture you? I would never dream of it. 

Vil couldn’t help the breath of a laugh, he can read the sarcasm seeping from the hunter’s words from miles away. He may not do it traditionally, but Rook was not above letting Vil know when he thinks she ought to do things differently.

Rook Hunt: Will you not see this man again, then?

Vil Schoenheit: No. Not for a second date, at least. We’d obviously still have to see each other for work.

Vil Schoenheit: He was nice. But…

Rook Hunt: He did not stir your heart?

Vil Schoenheit: Not at all.

Rook Hunt: Beauté! Your heart continues to be difficult to win over. How long has it been now since your last relationship?

Vil Schoenheit: We do not need to count the days! 

Or the years…

Vil Schoenheit: In fact, don’t you have other things you should be attending to? A certain lazy prince?

Rook Hunt: Roi des Lions? I am simply passing the time… he seems to be finding a hiding place for me~

Rook Hunt: Any moment now our game will begin.

Vil Schoenheit: Ah. You two are…truly something else.

Vil Schoenheit: I’ll leave you to it then. Go have your fun. Goodnight.

Vil places his phone down, letting out a sigh before lifting herself off the couch. Tomorrow was a day off but she still had her routine. If she wanted to be rested enough for her 5 AM jog, then she’d need to start her nightly skin care now—

The soft knock on the door would’ve gone entirely unnoticed if it weren’t so silent. And Vil would’ve thought it was a trick of the mind, until a louder knock follows.

Who was that at this hour? And during this rain too?

She’s frozen for a moment. Vil had been in a horror movie once and, as ridiculous of a thought it was, he knew how those things started. Exactly like this, during a vulnerable night in one of her best jumpsuits. Vil should ignore it right? Where was her Magipen…?

Vil moves carefully, stepping closer to the door. There wasn’t another knock but she thinks she hears…mumbling?

“This was stupid…Probably not here…Creepy…” Creepy?! Who in the Seven was out there?! Vil shouldn’t check. But…he ought to get a look, right? For the authorities, of course! In case he had to report a potential stalker!

She carefully walks over to her door, moving the cover of the peephole and taking a look to see.

Bright flaming blue hair. 

“Don’t give up yet, Niichan!” A voice says through some sort of communication device. “Knock again!”

“I-I can’t, Ortho! I should just go home…” 

“No!” 

Vil’s heart pounds in his chest. On the other side of this door was a person Vil has not seen in seven years. Not since the day they decided to break his heart. The day he declared that his business with S.T.YX. and Vil’s own responsibilities were just…too much for their relationship to handle. 

Vil’s last relationship. And her last love.

‘I can’t tie you to this life, Vil! I hold you back—’

“Ortho, I’m leaving!” Idia says. 

Vil’s body moves before she realizes it. Unlocking the door and basically throwing it open. The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, comes out all at once as Idia yelps. 

Blue flames are lively around them as Vil looks on with wide eyes. The silence between both of them gives away the unfortunate truth that neither of them knew what to say. Though, in this silence, Vil is able to see the changes seven years has done to him.

Idia’s hair is shorter. It’s held back in a ponytail and it just barely reaches the middle of their back. The bangs are relatively unchanged, but Vil can see an undercut. The hairdo exposes the piercings on Idia’s ears. A style Vil could only describe as punk. 

A sort of style she had seen in very small bursts in Idia’s closet during their school days, hidden away from the world. What had pushed him over the edge to finally do it? 

On his face sat sleek glasses, the sort of frame that were thin and nearly made the illusion of no glasses at all. The dark metal of the glasses’ temples and bridge being the sole giveaways. On their right nostril sat a single round silver nose stud. 

Despite those changes, the clothing style was very distinctively Idia. Though things felt more…polished. The hoodie was not swallowing them, the pants weren’t baggy at all and…was that a belt?! Time has changed Idia Shroud.

Appearances, at least. The way they looked entirely terrified as they gripped onto their umbrella, as if hoping that the world would swallow him whole, was entirely classic Idia. 

“Niichan?” Ortho’s voice comes from the watch on Idia’s wrist. “Are you still there?”

“I-I’ll call you back…” They answer before cutting the connection. 

The silence, unfortunately, is deafening. But, this time, Vil can not handle it.

“What are you doing here?” She asks. Which somehow managed to make Idia jump. And it’s entirely unfair the way it managed to endear him a little—but it’s only so long until Vil’s shock will melt away. And that pain and anger will settle. 

Idia’s still got a few more seconds. 

“I…” He starts, eyes looking around as if they’re searching for the answer. Oh, those seconds are ticking…! “...I wanted t-to…to see you.”

Vil blinks. And it becomes very clear to the other that that wasn’t the answer she wanted.

“I…” He gulps. “I…missed…” Another swallow. “I missed you…!” They push out their answer. And…there goes those seconds.

Vil’s face twists in confusion, mouth slightly agape. Idia was here because they…missed her? Missed her? The hand on the door grips tighter in bewildered annoyance.

“You showed up to my house at 11 PM out of the blue after seven years because you missed me?” Ah, the annoyance in his tone was rising by the second. “What?! How—How did you figure out where I lived?! How in the Seven—!” 

“—Ortho found it!” Idia rushes to answer. And then, as Vil looks prepared to give them more of a mouthful, they continue to speak. “I—I didn’t t—tell him to do that! He did it on his own! I swear!”

That very well answers the how, but it does very little to answer the why. And Vil is about to tell them that but he’s stopped by a flashing light. Oh no… that meant it was going to—

Crash! 

Vil jumps at the noise. He didn’t see that a thunderstorm was coming and the juvenile anxiety regarding that was starting to rise to his throat. For as fearless as she was… there was one thing that did manage to get him on edge.

“Vil, let’s go inside.” Idia speaks, chin tipping as he motioned to the inside of Vil’s home. “You don’t like thunder.”

Ah. Idia remembered. 

No! He can’t be softened by that! 

…But he didn’t want to be out here to see or hear anymore of this storm. So, despite himself, he opens the door wider and makes room for the other to enter too. He’s met with a brief hesitation from Idia before ultimately shuffling in.

She notes now that Idia is a little fuller than he once was. And Vil wonders if he had been taking care of himself. It was a constant battle in their younger years, trying to get Idia to eat properly. He wonders what was the straw that broke the camel’s back regarding this. 

Moving around Idia, Vil motions toward the umbrella stand next to the door. “You can leave that there. There’s slippers in the shoe rack.”

Idia was different but, also, exactly the same in their own way. Their posture was still horrible, hunched and timid as they closed their umbrella to place next to Vil’s. He then moves to the slippers, kicking his shoes off carefully before slipping into the house shoes Vil typically has for guests. 

He still can’t believe that Idia is standing in his doorway. Vil still doesn’t speak as Idia’s eyes scan the immediate area around them, eyes landing on heels for a few seconds before looking up and over at Vil once more. In response, Vil crosses her arms at her chest.

“You…” Idia starts, swallowing before continuing. “...You look nice…”

Surprise lights up Vil’s face for a moment, not having expected that at all. To compliment so freely? …Well, perhaps it wasn’t all that different. But, it was fitting of the relationship they had prior to their separation. To say that now? It was quite ballsy of him. Still, Vil’s eyes run down Idia’s form.

“You’re eating better.” She settles with. “That’s good to see. Really.” 

Idia lifts a hand to scratch at the back of their neck, a bashfulness showing itself. “Y-yeah…” Their eyes fall to the ground and over to the side. “Guess I do eat better now. I, uh…I-I’ve been keeping track of that… Well, Ortho has been but—” His sentence abruptly stops. 

Vil can only blink as Idia stares down at…something. Slowly the hand on his neck slides off and falls to his side. Confusion falls on Vil’s face, following his line of vision to find that he was staring at… his heels? 

“What are you—”

“—Y-You were on a date?” Idia cuts through, pointing at the heels before pointing to Vil. 

“...What?” Vil’s arms tense for a moment. Painted lips open, sputtering a bit and she has to wonder: why was she feeling guilty? It’s idiotic! And entirely unexpected! His body will have to get with the program—there isn’t anything attaching them together anymore, there hadn’t been for a while. There’s no need to be saddled with unnecessary…feelings. 

“I was.” She says. “Hold it. How did you know?”

Idia’s shoulders are tense. The person before him was always so transparent with his emotions. Even if maybe, they didn’t want to be. Idia wears disappointment familiarly—Vil had always hated seeing it. She finds herself feeling the very same even now.

“...Your shoes.” They say, giving a bit of a shrug. “You uh, wear these types…when you go on a date.”

Vil looks down at her shoes—Idia was right. They’re comfy, but quite tall. In truth, they aren’t made for much walking but absolutely stunning for outings that have a lot of sitting. This is why they aren’t the sort of heels Vil wears everyday, but they aren’t event shoes either. They’d probably make it to an awards show, but Vil’s outfit tonight was definitely not award show ready.

Either way, he isn’t sure how to feel about Idia remembering this about him. So, he turns instead, walking further into his living room. 

What the hell was Idia doing here? What the hell was he doing remembering these things? And why the hell did he decide to turn up now? Vil’s head is swimming and his heart has just barely started to calm down. 

“Would you like… water…?” Vil speaks, trailing off when he turns and sees that Idia is still at the doorway. Hands wringing together, tips of their hair nearly black. 

She can see the indecision from here. And, well, she really can’t help the small feeling of… amusement? Enamorment? As Idia slouches, bangs covering his face. They looked just like they did when they were in NRC. That timid Housewarden; unsure, scared Idia Shroud. Despite her initial feeling, she didn’t actually like to see him upset.

Vil shifts his weight between his feet, hip poking out as he crosses his arms. It’s clear as day, Idia’s looking for a way out.

“It didn’t go well.” Idia’s head snaps up, their eyes wide. “It was rather disappointing, really. He wasn’t a bad guy or anything but, there was a lack of spark. Hardly worth pursuing anything other than friendship.”

Idia looks like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing as they digest the information. Vil chooses to wait it out. She’s fighting back some sort of smirk. There’s no way to hide it, really. 

“S-So you’re single?!” The question rushes out of Idia like he nearly chokes on it. Vil isn’t sure what made her jump more—the volume the question is asked in or the fact that Idia rushed closer while saying it. They’re still not close, but they’re finally away from the door. 

“Yes, Idia. I’m single.” Now she lets the smirk free. “So you can stop sulking.”

At that, the blacktips finally left Idia’s hair. But, it was replaced by a faint pink—embarrassment. Back then, he would do anything to see that gorgeous pink color engulf his hair entirely. How problematic for Vil, that it appears that the sight of the pink still made his own chest feel tight. They always looked so good in pink.

Vil clears his throat as Idia’s clutching the end of their ponytail, trying to hide the pink they also realize has surfaced. 

“So, that water…?” Vil asks. 

“Oh uh…” Idia seems to be thinking their decision through. After a few seconds, they give a nod. “Yeah.”

“Very well. Take a seat wherever you’d like.” Vil says as he turns to the kitchen. 

In the privacy of the kitchen, Vil allows himself a moment to come to terms with what was currently happening. Placing his elbows on the island, he holds his head in his hands for a few seconds before his fingers slide into his own hair. 

Vil was playing it well for now, but her heart hadn’t stopped pounding since that first knock. With every look, every word—all she could think about was their past. Seven, Vil always looked at the future! There was no looking back! And yet, they were the one thing he could never move on from. 

It was embarrassing! To be caught up in a relationship from seven years ago?! It was juvenile! They were teenagers! Vil met new interesting people all the time. He’d meet actors, musicians, models, production crew, camera-people… but none of them could keep her interest. Maybe he didn’t want them to, deep down. But it was something to work on. It was something Vil was actively working on, in fact…! So it was truly unfair for Idia to suddenly show up on a rainy night!

After all, what was this? Some sort of romantic comedy? She had entertained the idea of trying to be in one, but Vil hadn’t bet on it becoming real life.

“Okay…” Vil whispers to the air around him, getting a glass before walking over to the fridge. He figured he’ll just hear Idia out on all of this… Vil wasn’t an idiot, she knew why he was here. But why now? Why tonight? Why—

Crash! A loud rumble fills the sky, a flash of light following closely behind. Vil jumps, managing to bite back a yell, but he couldn’t say the same about keeping a solid grip on the glass. It shatters on the floor and that manages to get a yelp out of Vil.

“Vil…?!” Idia calls out from the living room, concern in his tone. 

“I’m fine!” Vil calls back, ducking down to quickly try and pick up the bigger pieces of glass. He feels a sort of anxiety to clean this up before Idia could get in. He doesn’t know where it comes from. 

“Vil?” He hears Idia call out again. She’s ducked down behind the island, she doesn’t see him. “Where uh, where are you?”

“Wait, Idia. Don’t come over here. I dropped the cup—Fuck!” Vil drops all the pieces he had picked up, looking as blood started to bead on his pointer finger. “Shit.”

Idia rushes around the island, eyes wide as he slows himself down by gripping his hands on the surface of the counter and island. He examines the mess around Vil before his eyes land on her hand. 

“You’re bleeding!” He squeaks out.

“Yeah, I know!” Vil snaps, making Idia recoil back. An action she immediately regrets. “I’m sorry… I just… behind you there’s a first aid kit.” She says, pointing to a drawer behind Idia. 

Despite the earlier reaction, they still whip around to fetch it. Though, they ignore Vil’s outstretched hand as they reach for the bleeding one instead. 

“I can handle it—”

“I know you can.” Idia speaks, bringing the finger up and close to his eyes. He examines it carefully. “But, I…I want to help… and I’m checking to see if any glass is stuck in your wound.”

Well. She couldn’t stop him now, could she?

Idia examines it carefully for a few seconds more, before they turn to the first aid kit. Flipping it open, they pull out alcohol wipes and a bandage. 

Like this, Vil can really appreciate how much Idia has changed. There’s a maturity that wasn’t there before… perhaps it came with age. Or from working at S.T.Y.X. She decides she quite likes their new look. Really liked it, actually. The sleek glasses sit on them nicely and the undercut gives just that touch of edginess Idia liked. And the piercing? Vil hadn’t thought Idia would ever indulge in that change. And, just as he had predicted back then, it suit Idia. 

This wasn’t the same petrified teenager battling demons that still pained Vil to this day. And, dammit, she felt pride blossom in her. 

“Sorry, this might hurt.” Idia mumbles before passing the alcohol wipe over the cut. Vil sucks in a sharp breath at the sting. 

The silence between them stays as Idia continues to clean the wound. Inspecting it again, they seem to be satisfied when they don’t see any glass. 

“How deep is it?” Vil asks.

“It isn’t. What were you doing trying to pick up glass with your hands?!” He asks, now turning to unwrap the bandaid before lining it up with the wound. 

A small blush of embarrassment colors Vil’s cheeks. “I—There’s thunder outside. I can hardly make any sound decisions when I’m so riled up.” And then, softer, she says, “not to mention the unexpected guest.”

It was Idia’s turn to blush. This time, though, it didn’t reach their hair.

“...I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Idia trails off, finishing sticking the bandaid on. “...Ah, ugh…” Idia lets go of Vil’s hand, getting up abruptly before turning away from Vil. “This was stupid, wasn’t it? A-At the very least, it’s rude! Who do I think I am? Some SSR normie protagonist in some visual novel?! I-I’m more of a level one NPC! Or, or the… the creep!”

Vil stands up now. “So, you do still ramble?”

“E-Eh?” Idia says. Ah, good, Vil’s successfully stopped their inevitable downward spiral.

“Idia…” Vil looks behind them, glass still all over the floor. He lets out a sigh before taking their wrist and hiding them on the opposite side of the island. She tries her best to ignore the way her hand tingles once she pulls away, it was so familiar. 

“Why did you come here?” Vil asked. 

“Because…!” Idia swallows, lifting his hands up to his chest. They start to rub the wrist Vil had been holding seconds ago. “...Because I-I miss you, Vil. I know it’s pathetic but, I miss you—”

“—You’re the one who broke up with me.” A momentary silence fills the air between them. Where Vil keeps his eyes on Idia, Idia turns his head away for a moment. Slowly, Vil can see the tips of their hair grow that dark color. 

“...I didn’t want to hold you back.” They say, frowning deeply. “My destiny was always chosen for me. I was always going to end up at S.T.Y.X. a-and I didn’t want to trap you like… like Mom was.”

She remembered this reasoning. Idia had said it then too. Vil can feel that old anger sizzling at her core. It was the same one he had felt back then, before the devastation. Seven! And Idia had been so…. so cowardly back then! Breaking up on the day they were going to go back to S.T.Y.X. All they had left was an hour! It was… entirely selfish!

“Right.” Vil spoke, eyes rolling before he crossed his arms. “You didn’t even try. I told you I was willing to work something out between us.”

“It was impossible back then!” Idia says, turning back to look at Vil. “That’s just fact!”

Vil scoffs. “Fact? No. You were just always too scared to stand up against the status quo. You never liked doing anything that was too hard! Not to mention, your complete inability to see past the negative. You didn’t even let us try.”

Vil can see the mixture of pain and offense on Idia’s face. Their eyebrows furrow, their mouth opening.

“Vil—”

“—You devastated me, Idia!” Vil nearly yelled, causing Idia to jump. Their mouth hangs, opening and closing like a fish out of water. This doesn’t deter Vil. This was the first time he would be able to give Idia a piece of his mind and he wasn’t going to waste it. 

“I wasn’t blind to your future, Idia! Nor was I idiotic enough to think it was going to be easy! But, I just thought that… that we would find a way to still be together. Because we… ugh, because we loved each other. We were in love and it’s stupid to have such a fairytale thought but I was prepared for the fight. I was willing to do anything I could to try and be together.”

Hands push through Vil’s hair, he hated that he could feel his eyes welling up. No. Vil was not going to cry tonight. “Never did I think you would just break up with me. Seven, Idia, you didn’t even give me a warning!”

“I… I wanted to use up every second I had…” Idia speaks softly. 

“Of course. You were always selfish.” Vil says, head shaking. “And I wanted you to be selfish about me. I wanted you to want me enough to work through the hardship.”

The black now fully consumed Idia’s tips. They hunch into themselves for a moment before they bring up both of their hands and aggressively rub at their face, hands going under the glasses. 

“I regret it.” He finally speaks, albeit a bit muffled by the hands. Vil can hear nonetheless. “I regretted it every day of my life. I knew I would but… I… I-I’m an idiot, Vil! You’re right! I’m the useless one in the party, you might as well leave me at camp! My stats suck!”

Vil couldn’t believe that after all this time, she could still understand what Idia was trying to say. 

“You are an idiot. A massive one.” Vil says. Idia’s shoulders slump. 

“...This…this isn’t how I-I thought it would go…”

“Really? I don’t know how you didn’t. Did you think I was going to accept you with open arms?” Vil scoffs, nose to the air.

“I knew you wouldn’t. It’s what I love…ah, um…. loved about you. That you stand your ground…” Idia says, finally allowing his hands to fall at his sides. “But, I meant us. For a moment after everything with Ortho and my… my overblot, I thought my lack of involvement would become my new normal. I had thought we would be together and I’d get to live this life with you I hadn’t thought I’d be able to before.” Idia scoffs, a humorless laugh poking through. “How naive… That all came crashing down when my parents called me days before graduation to see how I was. And to check if I was ready to be a fulltime S.T.Y.X. employee.”

Vil softens at that. “...I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t want you to know. I-I sort of wanted you to hate me.” They say. “I wanted you to think I was a horrible person so the break up would be, I-I don’t know… easier for you, I guess…?”

“Easier for—” Vil cuts himself off with a scoff of his own. He shakes his head as he pushes his tongue against the inside of his bottom lip. “Please, Idia, I could never hate you. Even now, I don’t hate you.”

“You should.” 

“But I don’t.” She shrugs, head shaking again. “It was so hard for me. My heart broke that day. All I could do was replay that moment over and over. Trust me, I wanted to hate you. I wanted to think about all the ways I would curse you or poison you if I could. But, all I did was miss you.”

Vil sighs. “All I do is miss you.” She admits. At that, Idia’s eyes widen like saucers. Stiffened there for a moment, Vil waits with anxious anticipation as Idia gets their bearings. 

“W-What?” They finally choke out. 

“That’s why the date didn’t work out tonight.” Vil says, pink blush dusting her cheeks. If her heart could pound any harder, it would burst right out of her chest. “That’s why any date never worked out. I… pathetically… would put them up against you and against what we had.”

“I knew it was wrong to do so. But, I just… I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t ready to fall out of love.”

With each word, Vil could see Idia attempting to soak it all in. In truth, Vil was just as stunned. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to admit all of this, now that he was. But, that’s how they had been before. Unafraid to tell each other their feelings.

“...I…” Idia closes his eyes tightly, hands gripping the end of his ponytail. “I never stopped….!” He exclaims now, wringing his hair. 

His eyes were still closed, which was a shame because Vil wanted to search into them to see if this was real. And he wonders, for the first time, if this was some sort of dream. That maybe, he’d wake up on the couch and would be just as alone as he had been. But the cut, the blush on his cheeks, his heart pounding so loud in his ears—this was real. This was happening. 

Pink started to grow in Idia’s hair, finally replacing that horrible black color. 

“I never stopped either.” She finally speaks.

Idia’s eyes fly open. And suddenly, all at once, his hair engulfs in pink. 

“You… you….” Idia speaks softly at first. “....Eh?!”

“Come on, Idia. Don’t you think I would’ve kicked you out? No, actually. You wouldn’t have ever passed the front door.” Vil can’t help the quirk of her lips, a ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t have indulged in any of this if I wasn’t.”

All Idia could do was blink. And it becomes very apparent to Vil that Idia hadn’t expected this to happen. In fact, she could bet that they probably thought Vil was going to kick her out.

“But… what difference does it make?” Vil asks. “You’re still in S.T.Y.X., right? Why… Idia, why did you show up today? Now? Why not several months ago? Or years?”

At that question, Idia seems to lighten up. 

“Since going back, I’ve been trying to find a way to be able to limit my attendance! At first, I had thought it would be way more of a challenge, but because of my brothers’ interference during my overblot, I was able to get into the system more than ever before! Don’t get me wrong, it was still tricky. S.T.Y.X. technology is packed with security measures, not to mention restrictions in nearly all software and documents.”

“But, Ortho helped me! And uh, if you can believe it, even mom and dad. And together we were able to find a way to be able to ah—” Idia stops, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck. “These terms are going to fly by you…. uh TL;DR: I’m able to remote in from anywhere without needing to be within S.T.Y.X. and with heavy, heavy encryption. But, mwehehe, who’s even smart enough to hack me? But ah, I’ll still have to go in from time to time… probably once or twice a week… Depends, really…” 

“Wait…” Vil starts. “Wait, wait… so… you don’t have to live there?”

Finger scratches at his cheek. “No.” Idia says. “I don’t have to live there.”

Vil blinks, mouth agape as all he could do was stare. What? Was this… How… The amount of times Vil had hoped for this…!

“...And that took seven years?” She asks incredulously.

“Yeah, can you believe it? Ortho and I ran the numbers and we thought it would take way longer because of the sheer amount of data. But, mwehehe, we only took that as a challenge! Seven years is pretty impressive, right?!” 

Vil still couldn’t believe it. It’s like the information wasn’t sinking and yet? It was totally, absolutely resonating with her. Did this mean… but they shouldn’t… No. No, Vil needed to be realistic! What? She couldn’t just jump into his arms! Right? Right! Of course… right?

“So… that means…?” She says, stepping forward. Eyes focus between Idia’s right and left. It’s like she’s searching for something, anything, to put a damper in this moment. Or, maybe, to bring her back to reality!

That doesn’t seem to happen.

“Vil. I want to try again.” Idia says slowly, wanting to make sure they wouldn’t stutter. “I love you.” 

Vil feels absolutely breathless. What…was this? What is happening right now? Not once… not ever did he think this would happen. She was so sure, positive, that Idia had moved on. That it was only she who had been stuck. 

Vil couldn’t remember a time Idia had ever pulled such a move like this. 

Even before, Vil had been the initiator of a lot of their firsts. If it hadn’t been her persistence, they probably wouldn’t have gotten together. Eventually, once they were more comfortable, Idia would initiate but Vil always made the first move. 

Now Idia was making that first move. Now Idia was fighting for Vil. 

“...Idia…I…” She breathes out. Hands grip his own arms. They want to reach out for the other. “This… hah… Idia, I must sit down.”

They move on their own, pulling a stool over for her. Goodness, they move like they know this home. Like they belong here… what was happening?!

“Y-You don’t have to give me an answer…! Now or uh, ever…. i-if you don’t want to!” Idia speaks. She can see it, the beginning of their insecurity starting to eat at them. “This isn’t fair of me to do to you. I know.”

Vil sits slowly, taking those seconds to breathe. Just… breathe. 

“I’m still in love with you too.” He says, the words cascading out like a waterfall. He thinks it isn’t much of a secret, he had already implied it, didn’t he? Still, that seems to affect Idia. Pink hair now comes to life; the flames dance.

“R-Really?!” They ask, leaning forward. 

“Yes. I never stopped, I practically admitted this already.” Vil says. They’re not blind to the small smile starting to grow on Idia’s face. And it’s something she absolutely needed to put a stop to this instant. If he actually smiles completely? Fully and beautifully? Vil might very well let them get away with murder. 

“I-I know, but to hear you say it so openly—” 

“But,” she cuts in, raising a finger to also create some distance between them. And it works, Idia pulls back to avoid it altogether. “I have my reservations. There will be rules… no. They will be laws.”

Idia nods quickly. “The walkthrough…. Got it.”

“We have to start over. I’m not foolish enough to say we have to ignore the past—remembering it is how we save ourselves from making the same mistakes. But, I want to be taken out on a first date. We’ve been out of each other’s lives for so long. We’re different people now.” He says, before the finger he’s held up is joined by the middle finger next to it.

“Second, you have to promise me you’ll communicate—especially if it involves something that will, eventually, involve me too! I want to be able to help you if you need it, but I also want to be prepared if things get difficult or otherwise.”

Idia nods quickly again. “O-Okay… that’s fair.”

A third finger joins in. “...This is your second and your last strike, Idia. I don’t believe in giving someone more than two chances.” She shakes her head at them. “I don’t want to go through that pain again.”

“I promise,” Idia starts. “I won’t mess up this time. I-I won’t let myself lose you again…!”

“Please, Idia. Don’t lose me.” He speaks candidly and vulnerably. He really, really wanted Idia to get it right this time. “And I’ll promise not to mess up either.”

Idia scoffs. “You never messed up, Vil.”

“Still.” She shrugs. “I still want to promise it.”

Idia blinks for a moment, the ghost of a smile starting to pull at the corner of his lips. Vil watches as they massage the bridge of their nose, right where the glasses sit, before he looks up at the ceiling. She can see now that the smile has grown more. And then, suddenly, Idia’s excited laugh bursts through. 

“I…I can’t believe it!” They say, looking back at Vil now. “I’ll have to thank Ortho when I get back…! I—c-can I hug you…?!” 

Again, as always, Idia proves that they are not as predictable as Vil thinks they are. It startles a laugh out of her before she gets up. Vil’s consent comes in the form of hugging Idia first, but it doesn’t take long for the other to reciprocate. With Vil’s arms going around their neck, their own go around Vil’s waist. 

And it… it feels like home. Seven, it feels so much like home. He knew he missed this feeling but he didn’t realize it was this intense. Vil absolutely melts into it. A deep inhale gives Vil the pleasant realization that Idia still used the same detergent. All at once, the emotion makes his heart burst. 

This was where he was meant to be. Always. 

They stay like that for minutes. Hours? Vil doesn’t really know, but when they finally started to pull back, she had this strange feeling like it wasn’t enough. The disappointment settles in her stomach. She just wasn’t ready to pull away yet. 

And as they do, each of them pulling back just enough to look the other in the eyes, the tension and air between them is thick. The emotion was sparking off of them and the other was soaking it up. 

Vil isn’t sure who made that first move, but her eyes flutter close as she feels Idia’s forehead press into hers. Thank Seven, each and every one of them, for bringing them back to him. 

Vil’s eyes open at a half-lid and he can’t help it when they fall onto Idia’s lips. They should go slow. Vil had just said they needed to start over. But, words couldn’t really hold up against history sometimes. History and strong feelings. 

Again, Vil wasn’t sure who started moving first. Hell, he hadn’t even realized Idia’s eyes were open too. All he felt was lips, slightly chapped, pressed against his. 

And this? Oh… oh, this was like a desert traveler’s first sip of water. She was so damn parched. Idia’s kiss is a lifeline. The kiss deepens quickly. The taste of Idia is familiar and yet exciting and new. Vil missed this. Seven, Vil loved this. Loves this. 

Vil is so in love with Idia. 

When they part, both of them needing air, they don’t untangle from each other right away. In fact, it seems they’re both content with staying right here. 

“...You don’t have to leave right away, do you?” She asks in a whisper. They’re so close, there’s no need to speak any louder. 

“No.” Idia answers. “Even if I had to… I-I wouldn’t go. I can’t now.”

Vil smiles before a small laugh pushes past her lips. She bites her bottom lip for a moment before placing her head into his neck. 

“Stay with me tonight, then.” It sounds like a demand more than a request. 

Idia’s own breathy laugh shows itself next. “Okay.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

If You Can't Dance 2

Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.

Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Part of The Club AU

The man lets you go as the bouncer approaches again. He hands over a green bottle of Perrier. The stranger uncaps it and offers it to you as the carbonation hisses from the open neck.

“Have a drink,” he says gently.

You take the bottle and gulp, the bubbles nearly choking you. He looms there with you, watching you drink. You pop your mouth off the bottle and stare at his lapel.

“I'm sorry,” you gasp, “I think I'll be okay now.”

“No need to apologise,” he assures you. “I'll stay with you until you're better.”

“You don't…” he leans in again and your breath catches, “you don't have to do that.”

“Oh, I couldn't leave you. Go on, have some more water,” he says, “Jonathan, by the way, I'm afraid our introduction was lacking.”

You're confused. You don't know this man. Why is he so interested? You glance over at the pretty girls in their mini skirts and strappy dresses.

“And you?” He prompts.

You give your name to the brim of the bottle before you swig again. You rub you cheek then let your hand drop to your stomach. You cringe at the gurgle in your stomach. 

“Have a bit much to drink?” He asks.

“I don't… I don't drink,” you answer, “but… they gave me it.”

“They? A friend?”

“Coworker.”

“Ah, a work outing. Rather odd choice for that but who am I to say? I was lured here upon the premise of business myself.”

You hand the bottle back to him and hug yourself. He twists the cap on as you peer down the street. They probably won't even notice you're gone.

“I should go,” you stand up, “thanks, uh, sir, for your help.”

“Go? Are you driving?”

“Yeah, my car is over…” you trail off as you brave a glance up at him. His blonde hair is tidy and his eyes are a perfect shade of sky blue. “...there.”

“You can't drive, you said you've been drinking,” he tilts his head.

“Oh, uh, I guess,” you peel around, keeping your arms crossed, “a taxi…”

“We could share? I have an early morning meeting so I'll be off about now.”

“Oh, no, that's fine–”

“I don't mind. In fact, I'd be more bothered to send you of not knowing if you got home safe,” he intones.

“But… you don't know me.”

“Well, you can't get to know people if you don't start there,” he chuckles lightly, “how are you feeling now, then? Calmer?”

You nod. He holds out the bottle. 

“Keep it. Finish it if you can. It will help sober you up,” he lets you take the bottle before he turns and raises his arm, hailing down the street for the approaching headlights. You'd be on the curb for a while before anyone saw you jumping and waving. That would be embarrassing. 

“Dear,” he looks back at you as a yellow cab approaches.

“I said…” you don't bother repeating yourself. People don't hear you. It's why you prefer email or IM.

The driver is there. That's a safeguard, right? The man, Jonathan, opens the door for you and you get in. He goes around the other side and gives his address, “but first…” he gestures to you.

You say your own address as you place the water bottle in the cup holder and buckle in. You stare out the window and watch the street roll by as the car pulls out. You keep yourself nestled into the door, making yourself as small as you can.

“So… coworkers… what do you do for work?”

“Code.”

“Ah, interesting, valuable skill set. I have many coders on my team. Always reliable, always honest.”

You nod. What do you say? Your work isn't exciting and the few times you worked with other coders were less than pleasant.

Silence. A strangling dearth of sound. You fidget, wiping your sweaty palms on your skirt. You just want to get home. The prospect of having to pick your car up the next day adds to your anxiety.

“I am rather too talkative for my own good,” he chuckles.

The driver seems to take a hint and flips on the radio. You exhale, relieved for the white noise, and refocus out the window.

It's an odd end to the night. You knew going out would probably be unsettling but this is all so strange. You suppose you've been in your own space for too long. You've never been good with other people.

As you recognise the street you're one, you sit up. Jonathan inhales and hooks one leg over the other. The driver steers around the corner sharply and nearly has you falling across the seat. You slap a hand on the leather and resist the physics. 

You peek up and meet Jonathan's eye. An accident that has you boiling and looking away. You see your house and lean forward.

As the driver stops, you pull at the purse slung around your body. You look at the meter and search for your wallet in the slouchy body of the bag. Jonathan tuts and flutters his fingers at you.

“My treat. Please, save your money.”

“But–” you gulp back a response. You should pay but you also shouldn’t argue with kindness. That’s what your mother always said.

You click the seat belt and let it recoil. Your hand is already on the door as you’re ready to run and hide. The man says your name. You pause and look back, not wanting to be rude.

“Well, have a good night,” he drawls.

“Oh, uh, thank you, you too,” you pull the handle.

“Very nice meeting you,” he calls softly, right before you close the door.

[prolix-yuy]

Plus One

Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"

Summary: It's Ms Jackson's company holiday party, and Frankie makes his debut.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, references to past escort work, semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism kink, references to oral sex and anal play, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), spanking, possessive play, little bit of brattiness, Frankie is too damn hot and Ms J is gonna make him pay for it (in the best way).

Notes: Here's my (slightly late) SW!Frankie Christmas story! This is dedicated to @lowlights for saying "All I want for Christmas is SW!Frankie" and I couldn't resist giving her exactly that. She also picked Frankie's holiday party outfit, which is absolute perfection and I would climb him like a tree if he showed up in this fit.

Takes place after Callback.

Cross-posted on AO3

Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist

The internal monologue running in the back of your mind comments on the tasteful decor, how the poinsettias and fake candles and red and green tablecloths really dress up the restaurant. The thought that “HR did a really nice job” skitters through your mind, and the warm scent of cider and mulled wine and store-bought cookies all envelops you in a nostalgic holiday mood.

Well, it would, but on the other hand this holiday party might actually kill you. Honestly. And yet you have to pretend that you’re not dying inside, a calm smile on your face while you fight back against the urge to scream.

It all started with an email.

Hi Team!

It’s that time of year again - our annual holiday party! Please join us for appetizers and drinks at Lesandro’s at 6pm Friday, December 23rd. If you want to enter the raffle for a special prize, please email Alison for a ticket.

This was all fine and dandy until you got to the next line.

Plus ones are welcome!

You shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not the first time your office has extended invites to partners. You had brought your ex-husband in the past, the brief sting of the memory flitting through your mind. It was to be expected every year, a night to enjoy yourselves on the company’s dime in lieu of bonuses. 

You would gladly accept a check rather than the cocktails and finger foods, but you weren’t not on the planning committee. 

A little tremor of excitement over that line lightened your spirits for the rest of the day. Thinking of Frankie schmoozing with your coworkers made a smile come to your face, and his solid comfort being by your side actually made you look forward to the event. The scales tipped more towards anxiety when you walked into your home, Frankie coming down the stairs with damp hair.

“Hey sweetheart,” he said, a quick squeeze of a hug before heading to your car for groceries. Worrying at your lower lip, you waited until you were both in the kitchen sorting produce before you spoke up.

“I’ve got a company party coming up in a couple weeks,” you said, toppling a few apples onto the counter.

“You’ll be out late?” Frankie asked, dumping fruit into a colander in the sink. The running tap let you take your time with your response.

“Actually, I can bring a plus one,” you tried to say breezily, rolling a stray lemon under your palm. It grounded you as Frankie turned to you. “If you want to come,” you added at the end. When his pause went on too long you hazarded a look up at him. He was smiling in that somewhat exasperated way that let you know you’d been overthinking again.

“Why wouldn’t I want to come? Maybe I can guess which one of those girls steals your yogurt on Wednesdays.” The remark made you giggle, leaning back against the counter as Frankie’s mischievous eyes eased your tension.

“I don’t know, I built it up in my head, asking you.” You shrugged, voice getting a little softer. “My ex never liked going to these things. Complained for weeks before and after, then would barely talk to me when we were there.” You shifted, crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d talked about your past relationships with Frankie, but having to feel the grief, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the tension of revising those memories still made you want to crawl out of your own skin. Frankie’s hands, heavy and soothing, wrapped around your biceps.

“If you want me there, I’m there,” he said, rubbing your arms with a reassuring smile. You nodded, letting your forehead drop against his shoulder when he stepped closer. Sucking a deep breath in, Frankie’s clean musk and fresh soap smell released the tight muscles in your jaw. “Where are they having it?”

“Lesandro’s.”

“Oh, so it’s like, a nice party,” Frankie mused, hand kneading at the back of your neck where you held much of your stress. You melted into the massage, pressing your cheek to his plush chest.

“Eh, we come from the office, you don’t have to dress up,” you mumbled into his worn t-shirt. He hummed in response.

“Could be fun, though,” he said, working his thumb into the meat of your shoulders. “Dressing up for it. I’d like to make a good first impression.” 

Leaning back, you raised an eyebrow at Frankie.

“Oh really?”

He blushed, and you thought your heart might explode at the sight. Slipping your fingers into the wisps of gray-brown hair at the nape of his neck, you swayed against your boyfriend.

“Then bring your A-game, handsome.”

Which is why you’re standing here now, close to literally exploding.

Because when Frankie texted to tell you he was here, you didn’t expect what walked in the door.

First of all, no Standard Oil hat. You didn’t expect him to wear it, but it’s such a part of himself now you forget he can go without it. He styled his hair loose and curling, not a wild mane but controlled wisps that flick out around his ears and bounce along his forehead. Little glints of silver you refuse to let him cover up at a salon catch the glittering lights in the restaurant. He’s wearing a white button-up, the top two buttons open to bare a delicious vee of tan skin around his throat. He clearly wasn’t patient enough with the sleeves, though, because he’s rolled them up around his elbows, accenting his strong forearms. You’ve never seen the pants he’s wearing, some sort of dark blue-black slacks that hug his trim hips perfectly before descending to black leather monkstrap shoes. 

And he’s wearing his fucking glasses.

Your cunt throbs at the sight.

He searches the crowd, the smile that breaks out when you lock eyes making your legs weak. He weaves his way through your coworkers, a few watching him curiously as he scoots by. Once he’s made it to you, a hand on your lower back and a kiss to your cheek, the eyes that followed him now land on you. The pride this swells in your chest makes you giddy.

“Have I missed all the food?” Frankie asks in your ear, your response a shaken head. He mock-sighs in relief before Cindy strides up to you both, ever the nosy one. Her smile is too big, hand outstretched to Frankie.

“And who have we here?” she asks, eyes flitting between you both. You brim with a little more pride when Frankie takes her hand, giving her a kind but firm handshake.

“Francisco Morales, the boyfriend,” he says with a little jest in his voice, Cindy laughing louder than necessary. 

This is the theme of the night, Frankie approached by coworkers and chatting his way through the first impressions. You smile and schmooze along with him, but inside marvel over how smooth he is. The perfectly timed jokes, the attentive smiles. As Cindy (and some people you’ve never even met) approach and leave, he knows exactly how to engage and play off their differing personalities. Giving space to the chatterbugs, coaxing conversation from the quiet ones, engaging in interests and offering his opinions. 

“This won’t be my first time in a room full of strangers with high expectations,” Frankie had said a few days before when you offered him an out on the party. The implication flew over your head until he added, “I’ve been hired as an escort too.” 

The revelation led to another one of those matter-of-fact conversations that were so fascinating with Frankie. He talked about sex work (and escorting, in this case) with no more emotional attachment than discussing what cars he worked on.

“I did a charity event once, older woman who wanted a younger man on her arm but didn’t want to look pathetic.”

“A girl had a bodyguard fantasy we played out at the Plaza. One of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve worked in.”

“You learn a lot by acting like the trophy, and people will tell you the wildest shit if you just listen.”

All of these skills were in action now as you watched him listen to someone from customer support discussing chatbot services. The second glass of champagne in your hand is warming under your fingers but you barely notice because this is a Frankie you rarely see. He’s in an element that’s foreign to you, used to his soft competency and attention and now witnessing his surety, his confidence, his ease at shifting into exactly what everyone wants.

Even the moments when you feel a stab of jealousy - Debbie touching his arm when he makes a joke, how he gives everyone his undivided attention - he always makes his way back to you. His hand rests on your lower back,  pulling you into conversations when you’re being edged out. And when you’re leading, having a discussion with a coworker, he listens closely by your side and nods along, even if you know he’s lost as to the topic.

It’s turning you on way more than you want to admit. 

The party is grating on your nerves after an hour and a half, your brain screaming at you to leave. Listening to Carl complain about the cost of events planning pales in comparison to showing Frankie exactly how much he’s been affecting you all night. The ache only worsens when you catch a glimpse of his profile, smiley and easygoing, as his shirt gapes to reveal no undershirt underneath. You could slip your fingers inside and drag them along the smooth expanse of skin there, before slipping them down to pop every button open as you descend lower and lower…

“Your man not dress up for you much?”

Erica, one of your favorite coworkers and confidant, sidles up next to you as Frankie tries to leave a conversation by the drinks table, two glasses in hand. Your face heats up as you fan yourself surreptitiously with a napkin.

“Mmmhmmm, okay no need to answer that one for me. Boss left ten minutes ago, go get your man out of here before Johnson bores him to death,” she murmurs, giving you an approving look before going back to her lost-looking husband. Her revelation, coupled with your increasing need, rockets you across the room to Frankie’s relieved face.

“Sorry Johnson, I need Frankie for a minute. Nice seeing you!” you rush out, depositing Frankie’s proffered glasses on a waiter’s tray. Hands free, you tug Frankie to the exit, his voice lost in the rush of blood to your ears. 

Out of the stuffy room and into the cooler night, Frankie huffs in surprise when you push him back against the building’s exterior and steal a heated kiss, a quick press of the lips preceding your tongue pressing into his mouth, stifling his moan with your own. Taking the hint, he pulls your hips flush with his, attacking your mouth with as much fervor as you’re giving. His teeth scrape against your tongue, letting you grind him against the concrete wall before he spins you to switch places.

“You had to wear the fucking glasses,” you gasp when he pulls back enough to nibble along your jaw. 

“Thought they’d make me look smarter,” he whispers in your ear, palming one breast with the broad expanse of his hand. You mewl under the attention, mind hazily realizing you’re way too out in the open to be getting groped so thoroughly. 

“Thought you’d ruin my panties is more like it,” you hiss back, spreading your legs to invite him between them. He shakes his head against your neck.

“Not here, let me take you home and take my time,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear. The whine you squeeze out surprises you both, “needy little thing” the next words that Frankie drips against your skin. 

“C’mon Frankie, feel how wrecked you made me,” you goad, the roll of his hips against your core revealing Frankie’s desire as plainly as your own. Stealing a glance towards the front door, he slides a hand under your skirt and swiftly pulls your panties to the side, sliding two fingers through the slick mess.

“Fuck, baby, all this for me?” he asks, and the buck of your hips against his hand slides his fingertips inside you shallowly. He growls in your ear, that feral noise that makes you want to push him until he snaps and takes from you. Pulling you away from the wall, he sucks his wet fingers into his mouth with a flash of darkness in his eyes.

“Get in the truck, we’re going,” he says quickly, his stride longer and faster paced than usual. His own need mirroring yours makes a wicked idea bloom in your lust-addled mind. It would get you into some trouble, but the reward would be as good as the punishment. Maybe better.

Frankie buckles in and drives you swiftly out of the parking lot, your house only a twenty minute trip from Lesandro’s. Twenty long, aching minutes with Frankie so close you can almost taste him. You need to taste him.

Palming his hard cock through the slacks earns you a groan and a swat at your hand, Frankie’s knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.

“Baby, stop, I need to get us home. You can last twenty minutes,” he admonishes, which only mounts your need. Another long stroke, another warning, and you’re popping the top button of his pants open. He says your name now, hand coming to wrap around your wrist as you slide his zipper down.

“Please, Frankie, just let me taste you. I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg, one hand slipped under your own skirt and sliding through your slick. “You got me so worked up, I just want to make you feel good.” Leaning over you blow a puff of hot air onto his cock, still straining against his boxer briefs. A string of curses fall from his lips as you mouth him, wetting the cotton with your tongue.

“Fuck, you just can’t wait, can you? Okay, baby, okay, but you can’t…you can’t suck me off, I’ll crash the fucking truck if you try. Just hold me in your mouth if you need it that bad,” Frankie gasps, the words finally allowing you to slip his cock from its confines and into your hot mouth. He groans loud at your heat engulfing him, your clever fingers finding your clit and stroking quick circles as you try your best to follow his rules. But Frankie is large and thick in your mouth. You can’t help sliding back up to adjust your jaw wider. Or when you slide back down your tongue flattens against the underside, lapping at the thick vein. That’s just a force of habit. 

When you hum at the feeling of his head brushing the back of your throat, you can’t help but admit that you’re doing it on purpose.

“Fucking Christ,” Frankie swears, and you feel the car move from asphalt to dirt before coming to an abrupt stop. You slide your lips up and off his cock to ask why he stopped, but Frankie is already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you up to his mouth. He crashes his lips against yours, holding you in place with one firm hand on the back of your neck. 

“Little tease,” he purrs, and the rush of heat to your cunt has you arching into his chest, burying your wet fingers in his hair. “I was going to take you home, spread you out on our bed and make you cum so many times you’d lose your voice.” Frankie’s thick fingers pinch your jaw, widening it so he can delve deeper with his tongue. You’re practically dripping on the bench seat, trying to move to your back but he holds you there, and the roughness of his touch makes your body thrum like a live wire.

“Was going to lick this pretty pussy until you came on my face, then flip you over and do it again. Maybe even tease your perfect little asshole,” he continues, your heart hammering in your chest as he pushes your arousal higher and higher. “Then I was going to make you cum around three fingers. Get you to squirt for me.” 

“Frankie, fuck, please…” you whine, hips rocking against nothing, but he wraps his hands around them and bumps your noses together.

“Oh I’d have you begging by then too, but no, you couldn’t behave. Couldn’t wait the twenty minutes to get you home.” Your world spins as Frankie turns you to face away from him, pulling your ass tight against his hips. Heat blooms along your chest and face when you realize you’ve pushed him enough to lead to this.

“So you’re getting what you wanted, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you, needy little thing. Gonna give you my cock and you’re gonna take it just like this.” With that he flips your skirt up over your ass and slides his cock through your slick. Your jaw drops open; the truck is barely off the road, hidden by a few overhanging trees and a lack of streetlights but still very visible to another car passing by. Thighs trembling, you try to steady your breathing. It’s dangerous and mollifying, exhilarating and terrifying. 

“You know what to say if you don’t want this,” Frankie murmurs in your ear, gentler than before. You do, you know the colors and the words that will slow Frankie down. But like hell do you want that right now.

“Green, handsome,” you shoot back, wiggling your butt against him. He chuckles darkly, guiding your hips to slide his cock over your clit. 

“Then put your hands on the door,” he says, nudging you forward to brace yourself against the passenger door. Knocking your knees apart, Frankie’s bulk settles against your ass before his thick head begins breaching you.

Eyes rolling back and your mouth open in a silent moan, you savor the girth of Frankie’s cock with no preparation. You’re so slick and yielding, but he always stretches you to your limits. Even as he fucks shallowly into you, getting you used to him, you beg for more.

“Please Frankie, fuck me, want you to wreck me, been wanting you inside me all night,” you groan, pushing back to bury him deep inside, grinding the base of his cock to tease your throbbing clit. Frankie’s hands tighten around your hips, and with a sharp snap that knocks a gasp out of you as he sets a powerful pace. 

The truck cabin fills with the lewd sound of Frankie’s fat cock fucking into your wet cunt, his guttural moans mixing with your higher ones. When you look behind you, Frankie’s baring his teeth and puffing air through his nose, curls sticking to the sweat at his temples.

“This what you need, beautiful? Needed me to pound this pussy until you can’t think? Needed me to claim what’s mine?” His filthy words hit a chord deep inside you didn’t know existed until he spoke it into life. You roll your hips back against him, leveraging your thrusts with your hands on the door.

“Yes Frankie, need you to fucking take me, make me yours, take what you want, I want everyone to know I’m yours,” you babble. A sudden crack of skin on skin makes you cry out, flooding your cunt with arousal. Frankie soothes the red handprint on your ass before tapping his fingers along it. 

“Fuck, baby, you like that?” he moans as you nod vigorously in response. “Yeah, I can feel how much you liked that. Take it,” he orders before he slaps your other cheek, admiring how your movements get sloppier as you writhe in pleasure. “Mine,” he growls, another gentler slap. “Mine,” he pants as he yanks you back and pushes your chest to the seat, arching your ass up high for him to keep pounding into. “Mine,” he growls into your ear when he folds over your body, his thrusts shortening but hitting that powerful spot, tightening you around his cock.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart, I can feel it, you’re so close. Cum on me baby, I’m…fuck, I’m yours,” Frankie gasps, the possessiveness now curling in your own heart as you listen to him rail you within an inch of your sanity while repeating “yours” under his breath. 

“Frankie, please…” you ask, not sure of what you need but he nods against your spine. Threading his fingers between yours, he slides his other hand to your clit and strums it fast and hard, the intensity throwing you off the edge of your impending orgasm. 

With a muffled shriek you cum, feet scuffling against the leather seats and your hips bucking beneath Frankie’s weight. He holds you down, guiding you through it as he works his cock slowly through the grip of your channel. When the aftershocks subside, Frankie pumps into you a handful of times, then pulls out to spill on your ass with staccato moans. 

For a long moment the truck is filled with gasping breaths, Frankie using your own skirt to wipe up his spend. When his heat disappears you prop yourself up to catch him leaning against the driver door, legs splayed and his head tipped against the cool glass, chest heaving. It takes a moment to rearrange your limbs but you finally slide between his legs and rest your head against his chest. His arms come up to cradle you there, stroking your back. You enjoy the silence, the comforting cadence of Frankie’s breathing bringing you back down.

“Was that too much?” he asks, a little apprehension in his voice. “I know we don’t go down that kind of path often…”

“Frankie, that was fucking amazing,” you soothe, grinning into his chest. “And I instigated that, I knew what I was asking for. Though you did almost make me end it with that plan you laid out.”

“Oh did I?”

“Very tempting.”

“You made your choice.”

You both laugh a little, the glow of the truck’s clock reminding you of the late hour. But Frankie has one more question to air in the dark.

“You weren’t jealous tonight, were you?” he asks, tucking his chin to look at you. “Because nobody in that room held a candle to you tonight. Or any night. I’m yours, babe,” he says, stroking his thumb along your cheek. The love that blooms in your chest is all the answer you need, but you’ll still say it.

“I loved being yours tonight. And every night.”

After getting back on the road, Frankie hums thoughtfully.

“If you wanted to do that every now and then…” he says tentatively, drawing your attention to his stunning profile. “You know, tease me, get me riled up, I’d be into that.” 

A wicked smile curls your lips, half hidden in the dark.

“You like it when I rile you up?” you ask, leading Frankie’s hand back between your legs. You could find the energy for another round, your folds still soft and dripping. He gives you a look like he could devour you whole.

“I like it when I can show you you’re mine,” he rumbles, cupping your sex as the minutes until you’re home tick by.

“Show me again, then.”

END

The story continues in Frankie's First Time