#queue look better in pink

[sissy-salon]

Sissy Iggs (Intersex Eggs)

Some segment of the sissification community appears to be intersex even if they're not aware of it. Small penis humiliation is prominent in sissification and some of the small penises depicted are small enough to fit within the definition of micropenis, which is not widely understood to be an intersex condition but technically is one. This identification is complicated by exaggerations on what counts as a small penis (often everything smaller than above average gets incorrectly listed), the use of HRT by trans models characterized as sissies in captions (as can result in shrinkage), and the deliberate use of chastity devices to reduce penis size, but there is still a segment that reports or showcases penises within the parameters of micropenis and indicates they have been that way since birth.

This is fetishized as an unmanly quality based on modern Western gender conceptions (as opposed to, say, ancient Greek) and fits into sissification as a physical excuse to be forced into a feminine gender role, but this may be an oversimplification of why people with micropenis may be attracted to feminization. They're intersex even if they don't realize it and could have a more complicated view of gender just because of how their brains were formed. Iggs who are specifically into feminization may be more likely to be non-binary or trans. Unfortunately, there's widespread ignorance of micropenis being intersex, so no one in the community itself can put together these connections and people outside the community only see the gender roles on display.

For reference, before I had a vaginoplasty, I had micropenis and was into the forced femme/sissification genre in my teenage years as a sort of repressed trans girl thing. I enjoyed small penis humiliation because it was the closest thing to positive representation outside of the ancient Greek statues that everyone makes fun of today for displaying such alien values. Despite the framing of SPH as denigrating small penises, small penises are necessary for it to even function and may be honored in specific ways that go against mainstream conceptions of masculinity that resonate with trans eggs (e.g. "Aww, it's so cute!"). When I suggest that sissy iggs might also be trans eggs or similar, I'm coming at it from the perspective of someone close to that.

As a related issue, one trope in sissy SPH is stating that the subject is so unmanly that his penis is smaller than some women's clitorises. This is used to characterize his penis as equivalent to a clitoris and dubbed a "clitty" as part of his feminization. If this length comparison is accurate to the character (sometimes the dominants lie but not all the time), it is undoubtedly an indication of micropenis. It's also the case that these women's large clitorises are themselves an intersex condition (clitoromegaly), not recognized as such by the sissification community. Intersex people are not consciously acknowledged, yet are nonetheless folded into the fetish.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[cherubfae]

accidentally shrunk! || hazbin x reader

with alastor, lucifer, husk, angel dust, & vox

tags: gn!reader, ftm!reader for angie, fluff, comedy, established relationships,

Alastor

He is quite amused by the whole ordeal, if not a touch worried for your wellbeing. You're utterly tiny, capable of sitting in the palm of his hand like a tiny doll. His claw gently nudges your cheek, tilting your chin up. Using his own magic proves to be futile. After several attempts he's still unable to change you back to your normal self. He isn't sure why his powers don't seem to be taking effect.

Alastor doesn't let anyone else touch or hold you. Legit will hold you in his hand above his head should Vaggie or Charlie try to get a better look at you.

"No, no, no," Alastor clicks his tongue. "I'm afraid I'm not comfortable in letting my dearest love be held by anyone but me. Surely, you understand." He gives you a little smile, his thumb gently stroking your head.

You aren't a little toy and the last thing he wants happening if Niffty mistaking you for a roach, so he prefers to have you sitting atop his shoulder, his head, or safely tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat with your tiny little head poking out to watch the world around you. As much as he finds you adorable and vulnerable in this state, he does prefer you as yourself. He'll probably head to Rosie first, he wants nothing to do with Lucifer. She always has her ear to the ground and he's certain he'll get you returned to normal soon.

Lucifer

Well, that's new. Lucifer is easily able to turn you back to yourself but he wants to have a little fun first. He lifts you up and presses little kisses all over your face, giggling to himself when you press your hands to his rosy cheeks.

"Can't help it, sweetheart! You're too cute!" He gently nuzzles your cheek, placing a loving kiss to the top of your head. He'll shapeshift himself into a mouse and pretend that you're a little fairy about to battle for Narnia.

When he finally turns you back, he is relieved. He much prefers you as your lovely self where you're able to snuggle into his side and hold you properly to his chest, sharing many kisses between you two.

Husk

Shit, this ain't good, but at least yer havin' fun, baby. Husk sighs, leaning his chin against his paws. His yellow eyes flick back and forth in amusement as you treat the bar counter like your own slip-and-slide, watching as you spin around on the shiny wood with a small squeak.

Husk catches you with his tail before you can slide off, lightly placing you back on your feet mirroring the grin you give him. "I'm glad you're having a good time but we gotta figure out how to turn ya back, hun." He leans back against the stool, hoping Charlie has found something or someone who may be able to offer some help.

Charlie, on queue, comes rushing down the stairs holding a light pink pearlescent vial in her hands. "Let's try this!" She stands triumphantly, proudly holding out the vial in her hands. "A drop or two on their head should bring them back to normal height. I have a feeling this will work, but as Plan B we can go to my Dad!" She beams.

Husk nods, giving you a tiny peck on top of your head that only serves to make Charlie coo. Placing you on the floor, Charlie uncaps the vial. A shimmery fuschia-purple liquid smelling of sweet berries oozes out and gently drops onto your head.

A whoosh of pink and yellow unfurls out and soon you're standing before them as mostly yourself. Your hair is now a dyed vibrant pink. Across the room, Alastor who is casually reading the newspaper, snaps his fingers and poof! Your hair is back to normal!

"You could've helped them this whole time?!" Husk hisses, fur bristling. Alastor hums, taking a sip of his black coffee, "Hmm no, just their hair. Good thing they're back in one piece, yes?" He grins. "Too bad you didn't play a little cat and mouse with them. That would have been a sight to behold!"

Angel Dust

As adorable as you are, Angel is fuckin panicking. He's not quite sure what to do and he's terrified of someone accidentally stepping on you. "Okay, baby, I've got ya, hang on!" Angel places you on his chest fluff, his hand holding you in place. Upon returning to his room, Angel begins to pace, wracking his brain for some sort of quick fix.

Depending on how long this magic lasts, Angel will 100% want to play dress up with you and have you try on cute outfits or perhaps make a cute little dollhouse for you. He's too scared of crushing you in his sleep so until this wears off, he doesn't want to risk anything happening to you. He's also worried about Niffty mistaking you for a bug, so when he's out and about, he keeps you close to him at all times. If he has to leave and can't take you with, he instructs Vaggie and Charlie to look after you.

"Do not let Niffty or the Egg Bois around them, got it?" His stern eyes are narrowed, making an expression that he's watching Sir Pentious. "Keep the Eggies in line."

Vox

What the fuck? He blinks, a jolt of electricity nearly short-circuiting himself. "Babe, what the fuck happened to you?" Vox scoops you into his hands, holding you to his chest. He's doing his best not to panic, convinced this is another one of Alastor's stupid fucking pranks. (Alastor has done absolutely nothing. However, Vox swears any inconvenience that happens to him is caused by Alastor's hands.)

Thankfully whatever has happened wasn't permanent. A tiny explosion of sparkles and a poof blue dust has the futuristic demon stumbling back, sighing when you're standing there at your normal height with a hand pressed to your head.

"Holy shit, what the fuck happened?" Vox presses, grasping your hand and pulling you into his lap. He's cupping your face between clawed hands checking for any sign of injury. "Was it Alastor?" You shake your head, coughing out some blue sparkly dust.

"Nah, got caught under some pollen demon's magic on my way to HQ." You grumble, leaning your head onto your boyfriend's shoulder. Vox sighs, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Ok, ok, well, you're back," he grumbles. "Don't do that to me again."

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 4

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Implied ED, Claustrophobia

Parts:

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

You can feel Regina’s lips on your skin all morning. The aching pain in your hip is now replaced by a warm longing. It’s a pretty good metaphor for Regina herself. She can bruise you so easily and then make it all better.

She kissed you.

Why did she kiss you?

Was it because she felt so guilty about hurting you and couldn’t find the words to tell you? That had to be it. The other option briefly crosses your mind but you quickly dismiss it. This is Regina George. Less than 2 days ago she didn’t know you existed. She’s the Queen of the school, why would she want to be anything to someone like you? The thought is disheartening but it's much better than falling victim to a disappointing fantasy.

Regina is already gone, as usual. At least it gives you some time in the morning to sort your thoughts into nice neat boxes and get yourself ready without the distraction.

You know that today's activity is caving. Working your way through a man made cave system sounds much better for you, at least your feet are firmly on the ground. You decide on a pair of jeans, another band tee (Is that really all you packed?) and throw a hoodie on top. The caves might be cold and it’ll stop you scraping up your elbows while you navigate tight crawl spaces.

You make your way to the Campfire pit to be shown today's activity. The instructor tells you all to find groups or pairs. You don’t even bother glancing in Regina’s direction, she’ll be with Gretchen and Karen. You don’t mind going through it alone. It’s better than being paired up with a stranger. It would be much more fun with Janis and Damien though.

You feel a slight not in your stomach at the thought of Janis. She’d tried to call again this morning but you didn’t have the heart to answer in case more lies came tumbling out of your mouth, so instead you just sent back a quick text letting her know you’d call this evening and put your phone on silent.

You’re led to a door in the side of what looks like an oddly shaped hill which contains an intricate man-made cave system. Some of the group drop out saying they’re claustrophobic and don’t want to go through. It’s understandable, you wish you’d been given that option on the high ropes.

The instructor lets each group go through every 10 minutes to allow the first group to be a decent way through and avoid traffic. You end up behind the plastics in the queue again. It’s not exactly accidental. Hopefully Regina doesn’t notice this.

They go through first, you try not to make it too obvious where your gaze lands as Regina gets on her knees to crawl through the cave entrance. She’s wearing a pair of tight, black leather trousers and a pink tank top. It frames her body perfectly and you understand why most of the boys at school stare openly when she walks by. How are you only just noticing how hot she is now?

10 minutes later you’re instructed to go through. You crawl, squeeze and climb through the narrow passages of the cave. It’s pitch black, you have to use the head torch on your helmet to navigate.

It’s quite fun, you like the challenge. The further you get into the cave system, the harder some of the tunnels get. Some have passages you have to squeeze through sideways. Some you have to be on your stomach, sliding under. Every so often there are larger chambers you can have a break in and stand up fully. You slip through a narrow tunnel and into a larger chamber and your headlight catches a pair of eyes. You have to physically put your hand over your mouth to stop yourself screaming when you see a human figure cowering in the corner of the cave. You realize it’s Regina and she looks terrified. Her makeup has run slightly as if she’d been crying.

“Hey, are you okay?” You try softly, but Regina is shaking too much to respond. You crouch down to her level and try and meet her gaze.

“Where are Gretchen and Karen?” You ask. From what you can tell, they’re nowhere in sight and you can’t hear their chipper voices up ahead.

“They went on ahead.” She answers, her voice barely a whisper.

She glances over at the next tunnel, you can tell because her head torch illuminates the passage. It’s tight. Possibly the hardest one to get through so far. You move to look through and see another chamber with specks of light. This must be the final challenge.

“I’m pretty sure this is the final tunnel. I can see the light on the other side.” There’s no response from the blonde, she must be really scared.

Why did Karen and Gretchen just leave her like this? You know you wouldn’t have. Did Regina ask them to go ahead so they didn’t see she was this afraid? She doesn’t hide her fear in front of you, she eats with you and she laughs and plays geeky games with you. You guess she only agreed to go through to protect her reputation, it seems more than its worth keeping up her act.

“I can go first, then you follow and I’ll pull you through so you’re out quicker.” you say, standing to walk over to the tunnel and offering her your hand.

“Please don’t! you’re going to leave me here.” She cries, her lip is trembling. You wish you could comfort her better but you’re not sure what she’ll allow and you don’t want to push your luck.

“Regina, I promise I won’t leave you. I’ll crawl through and pull you out the other side. You just have to follow after me, I won’t let anything happen.”

“....You promise?” She whispers.

You take one of her hands

“I promise”

Her hand is so soft, just as you’d expect. Just how you’d expect the rest of her to feel. You squeeze her hand in encouragement before you bend down to crawl through the tunnel. Once you reach the last chamber you see there’s an exit door. You sigh in relief.

“Come through now, I’m at the other end, there’s a door here!” you shout, hoping she can hear you from the other side.

You hear shuffling from the end of the tunnel and bend down, ready to pull her through. As soon as she’s in arms reach you swiftly pull her out and she lets out a shaky breath. She quickly puts her arms around your neck in a gentle hug.

“Thank you”

Her breath tickles your neck and you’re overwhelmed by everything about her. You don’t move to reciprocate the hug, you’re still understandably wary after what happened and you don’t want to do anything that’d make her let go any faster.

And then she’s gone. When you leave the final chamber you see her back with Gretchen and Karen, subtly wiping her eyes to make sure nobody sees her smudged makeup. It’s impressive how quickly she can recover and put her mean girl act back on. You wonder how long she’d had to wear that mask.

You head back to the campfire pit for dinner, but you don’t bother going to eat anything. Regina had said she wanted dinner with you again. You couldn’t shake the thought that it felt like a date, but you couldn’t let yourself think like that. Regina had Boyfriends, and had already bullied Janis for her sexuality. You had to be more careful.

You wait for about 30 minutes after dinner at the campfire pit has ended. Regina doesn't show up. That serves you right for thinking Regina even thought of you as a friend, let alone thinking of your secret dinners as a date. You’re just there for her convenience.

You feel a squeezing sensation in your chest. Why did you let it bother you this much? You decide you need a distraction so go to the river close by the camp and ask one of the instructors if you can borrow a canoe. You’e allowed but you have to sign the boat out and make sure it’s returned within 3 hours. That’s fine, you want as much time away from the cabin as you can. Away from Regina’s stuff, away from her sweet vanilla scent, away from her giggle that still felt like it was trapped between the walls, away from Regina.

You take the Canoe to the edge of the river and lower it in, you hop down into the small boat and pick up the oar ready to set sail.

“Hey, what the fuck?” you hear a familiar voice yell.

All of your resolve to forget about her disappears when you see her at the bank, above your boat with her arms folded and one eyebrow raised. It’s intimidating.

“I saw you walk off earlier. What happened to dinner?” She scoffs “ Nobody stands me up, where are you going?”

“I didn’t think you were coming, I waited for half an hour.” you respond, you wish you could sound as confident as Regina but it just comes out as guilty, like a scorned puppy.

She drops down into the boat and sits facing you. Her eyes are challenging.

“I’m coming with you. I’m not allowed to go back to Karen and Gretchen’s cabins anyway.” That stings a little. So she’s not just spending time with you because she wants to.

“And I guess you’re not bad company.” She adds, rolling her eyes.

That makes your heart flutter and you hand her an oar and push off from the bank. You’re not sure where you’re going and Regina doesn’t really help row much. Luckily the flow of the river helps pull you downstream.

You’re not sure what possesses you but for a moment you forget who you’re in a boat with and dip your oar into the water, you pull it out fast and splash the blonde who is now looking at you with an incredulous expression.

“What the FUCK!” She screams as the cold water hits her.

You can’t help but laugh. It wasn’t a lot of water but you can see some droplets running down her cheeks. She growls in frustration and dips her hand in the river to splash you back.

You shriek at the sensation of sudden cold, but you’re still laughing. You see her lips curl in a smile too. You’re not sure if she’s laughing too or just proud she managed to get you back.

Unfortunately your oar can create a much bigger splash than her hand and this time you hit her with quite a lot of cold water to her chest, narrowly missing her face.

The look she gives you makes your knees weak and you regret the choice immediately.

Shit. You might have taken it too far.

She lunges for you, grappling for the oar. You lean left, trying to stretch the oar right out of her reach. Her body is sliding against yours, you can feel the cold patch where the water soaked into her top. Her face is millimeters from yours and you glance down at her lips. If you just moved forward a tiny bit your lips would meet, she probably tastes like vanilla too. She leans on the edge of the boat, inching forwards. Everything feels like it's moving in slow motion.

The weight of both of you on one side is just slightly too much and the canoe flips, dunking you both underwater. It’s freezing and makes you gasp when you breach the surface in a state of absolute shock. Regina splashes her way to the surface beside you, she’s gasping and her eyes are wide, black mascara dripping down her face.

A giggle erupts from your lips and it's not long before it's a full blown laughing fit. Regina giggles too, its a loose and carefree sound, it might be your favorite.

You swim over to her and flick some water at her, she squeals and throws some back your way. No use going easy now, you’re both soaked.

You manage to flip the canoe back over with some effort and both climb back in. You have no change of clothes and you’re both so cold your lips are turning blue so you decide to turn back.

“I’m so sorry I left you earlier. I didn’t think you were coming.” You chatter between shivers.

“I even stole these sandwiches from dinner for us, but I don't think we can eat them now.” She shudders back, pulling out two dripping wet sandwiches from her pocket. This makes you both burst into another giggling fit.

She shifts over to sit next to you and rests her head on your shoulder. Even though you’re soaked you feel your whole body heat up, especially your cheeks from the interaction. You rest your head on top of hers, surprised when she doesn’t pull away.

You make it back to the bank without going for another unexpected swim and tell Regina to go back to the cabin while you return the boating equipment. There’s no use in both of you staying freezing.

She’s already showered by the time you’re back and sitting on the edge of her bed. She gives you a shy smile and you dip into the bathroom to warm up. The water gives new life to your icy skin, as it washes down your face you can’t help but remember Regina’s soft lips just centimeters from yours. What would have happened if the boat hadn’t tipped? Probably nothing right? You’re just overthinking it.

As you start putting your pajamas on you notice your phone buzzing again. It's Janis. It’s reasonably late enough to pretend you're asleep so you swipe the screen to decline the call and put your phone in your pocket.

When you go back into the bedroom, Regina is under the covers, scrolling her phone but she sits up as soon as you come in.

“Hey, uh I wanted to say thanks for today.. you know, helping me, and I had fun.” She thinks for a moment. “Having fun with you is easy.” she adds with a small, sleepy smile.

“If I check my schedule I’m sure I can fit you in tomorrow evening.” You laugh, pretending to think over exaggeratedly.

She rolls her eyes with a smile.

“Goodnight Loser.” She yawns.

“Night Regina” You reply

Just as you’re about to lay down you hear a muffled voice from your pocket.

“What the fuck, are you talking to Regina?”

Shit.

[skzdarlings]

vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2

masterlist.

PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)

-

Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation.  Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert.  It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year.  What could go wrong?  

It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it.  Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue. 

“Reconvene,” you say.  You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line. 

“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.

You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar.  “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”

The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time. 

“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says.  He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes.  “I didn’t really think this far ahead.  I thought you’d have a plan.”

“Why would I have a plan?” you ask.  “This whole thing was your idea.  Seungmin.”  You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity.  It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this.  And you know how I feel about waxing.” 

“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly.  It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two.  His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature.   “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks. 

“Wax,” Seungmin parrots.  Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax?  Like your human body waxed?”

“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks.  “For a concert?  What did you think was gonna happen?”  He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes.  “Wait,” he says.  “I know how we can get in—”

“Oh my god,” you say.  You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead.  “I’m not fucking our way in.  And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”

“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head.  “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”

“Oh my god,” you say.  You push him away too.  “Never mind.”

“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?”  Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin. 

Minho cackles.  “No way she’d even go,” he says.  “She doesn’t get summoned.  She likes to be chased.” 

“She is walking away now,” you say.    

“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says.  “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”

You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you. 

“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says.  “We made it this far already.”

“One bus stop?” you ask dryly.  “We literally live like five minutes away—”

“Exactly!” Seungmin says.  “That’s called destiny.”

“We might as well try,” Minho says.  He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun.  “We all got dressed up.  Seungmin skipped a class.  You waxed.” 

“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say. 

“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says.  He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories.  “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into?  The sports games?  That celebrity wedding—”   

“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.” 

“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.” 

“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.”  Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall.  Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed. 

You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.

“Fine,” you say.  “So how are we doing this?”   

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully.  “I think I have a plan.”

Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan.  It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.

Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past.  It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people.  You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.

You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader.  You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out. 

“I get that one,” Minho says. 

He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile.  You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue. 

The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass.  He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so. 

He does.  So he did.

You and Seungmin look around.  Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.

“Aha!” you say.  “I call dibs on that one!  Good luck, Seungmin!”

“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.

He is far too late.  You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard.  He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority.  His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail.  His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance.  He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. 

Also, he really is lean.  Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.  

You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway.  You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium. 

The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention.  His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy.  Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert.  He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction.  You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you. 

Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly.  He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound. 

“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.  

Maybe that’s what trips you up.  It has to be something, because you were doing everything right.  But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.   

“Sorry,” Felix says.  He drops his arm and smiles.  “I just need to see your ticket.” 

“My…?”  You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone.  Oops.  “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix. 

He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile.  He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.

“Uh, ticket?” he says.  He holds out his hand.  

“Right,” you say.  You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can.  “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say. 

“Hm.”  His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you.  “And what’s that?” 

“Well, you see…”

It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet.  You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue.  There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd.  You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free.  Hwang Hyunjin, here you come. 

There’s just one problem.  

Felix is fast.  

Like, track star fast.  Like, road runner fast.  Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too. 

You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet.  You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door.  He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position. 

“Hello,” he says to the next person in line.  “Sorry about that.  Ticket?”   

Your mouth is agape.  

No one has ever got the jump on you like that.

“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on.  He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind.  “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him.  “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.  I do have a ticket.”

“Uh-huh,” Felix says.  He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device.  It lights up green and he smiles at them.  “Enjoy the show,” he says. 

You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person.  Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.

“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says. 

“I have a ticket,” you say.  You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs.  He apologizes to the people behind you.  You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own.  “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes.  “There was just a misunderstanding.”

Felix rolls his eyes. 

You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight.  You pick one and flash it at Felix. 

“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation.  You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone.  You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him. 

This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed.   You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally.  You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you.  You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy. 

“Um, excuse me!” you shout.  “Hello!  Someone film this!  I’m being assailed!”

Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder.  He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing. 

“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble.  Got it?” 

Felix is very good looking.  He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh.  But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off.  It’s hot.  Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression.  And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well.  That’s not your fault.  It’s his.  Asshole.

You flip him off.  He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.

“Sorry,” he says to the queue.  “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”

Ugh. What a sexy bitch. 

You text to check in with the boys.  Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in. 

what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck 

maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.

never, you say.  we still have lots of time.  we'll get in there.  seungmin, meet me by the benches.  we need another plan.  

Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics.  It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be.  If you act like you belong, then you will.  

A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people.  After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action. 

“Help!”  Seungmin shouts.  “My wife needs help!  Please!” 

“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him.  You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you. 

“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says.  “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.

Fortunately, he does draw attention.  A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them.  His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small.  You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.  

“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin. 

“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says.  He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth.  “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down?  I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.” 

“One second,” Changbin says.  He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster.  It buzzes with static as he turns it on.  “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B.  Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?”  The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away.  He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered.   “Yah, everyone back up!  This is an emergency!” 

“It’s really not,” Seungmin says.  He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down.  I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”

Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above. 

A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.

“Move aside, please.”  

“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed.   You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.   

Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle.  He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first. 

“I have First Aid,” he says.  “What happened?”

“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says.  “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd.  Should we bring her inside?” 

Felix looks at you.  The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way. 

You smile innocently. 

“No,” Felix says, frowning.  “We shouldn’t.” 

“Oh come on,” you say.  You smack the ground.  “I collapsed!  I need help!”

“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says.  He crosses his arms and stomps a foot.  “Seriously, what is wrong with you?  Some of us have a job to do, you know?”

“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”

“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder. 

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says. 

“Ah!”  Felix yells, spinning to Changbin.  “She doesn’t have a ticket!  She’s just trying to sneak in!”

“She doesn’t have a ticket?”  Seungmin asks, gasping.  He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain.   “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“

You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete.  You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you. 

“Seungmin,” you say.  You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll.  “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”

“You.”  Felix stomps up behind you.  “Get off the ground and come with me.” 

“No,” you say.  “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.” 

You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet.  He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend. 

You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears.  For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth.  You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.   

You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.    

“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B.  Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”

“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground. 

Changbin disregards your outburst.  Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back.  Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away.  You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all. 

Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues.  You are both out of breath by the time you get there.  Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away.   In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass. 

 “Holy fuck!”  You are panting now.  A line of sweat dots your hairline.  You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard.  “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”

“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket.  Then he tips his head and stares down at you.

You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason.  Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes.  Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring. 

You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him.  When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter. 

“No ticket,” Felix says slowly.  “No concert.  Do you understand me?” 

You stick out your tongue.

“Wow, mature,” he says.  His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll.  He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration. 

So much for not a mean bone in his body.  That bully is all business.   

So hot. 

You huff and puff for a bit.  Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you.  Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts.  Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real.  It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.  

Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat.  You do not lose.  This isn’t even about the concert anymore.  Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place.  No.  This is about your pride.   This is about your dignity.  This is about your honour. 

You are getting into that concert, one way or another.   

First, you gather intel.  This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark.  You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst. 

You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein.  Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through.  His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt. 

Flash him your tits, Minho texts.

Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.       

Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line.  The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks.  The concert will be starting soon.  You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit.  The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt.  You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible. 

Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through.  You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him. 

“Hi,” you say. 

His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up.  He smiles brightly.

“Hi!” he says.  “You look nice.  Excited for the concert?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say.  “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this.  It wasn’t easy to get in.”

“I know what you mean,” he says.  “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone.   This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.

“Oh, oops!” he says.  He smiles at you as he shakes his device.  “Sorry!” he says.  “I think you showed me the wrong ticket.  Could you pull up the right one?”

“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise.  Life is so unfair.  “I’m so sorry… Jisung.  Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”

“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says.  “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool.  Anyway.”  He wiggles his device.  “Ticket please!” 

You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone.  You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so.  How the fuck are you getting out of this?  You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger.  Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you. 

Apparently, you are that desperate. 

With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut.  You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again.  With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung. 

“How’s this for a ticket—”

Jisung looks surprised and delighted.  Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back.  Probably because he was told to step back.  Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.  

“Wow,” Felix says.  “Just committing crimes now, are we?”  

You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed. 

“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say. 

“Public indecency is,” he replies.  

“You’re… publicly indecent…”  Not your best comeback.  You glare at him while fixing your shirt.  “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.” 

“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm.  “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”

“Twisted fuck,” you reply. 

You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away.  He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors. 

You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again.  “Just let me innnnn,” you whine.  “Why do you hate meee.”

“I don’t even know you!” Felix says.  He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times.  You faked an injury.  You flashed yourself in a public place—”

“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”

“You cannot be serious.”  Felix looks ready to rip his hair out.  “You don’t have a ticket!  Why would I let you in, why would I – AH!  Why am I arguing with you!  Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”

“The po— the police?!  How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed.  He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be. 

“Fine!” you exclaim.  “Fine!  You win!  I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong.  I was wrong and you were right.”

Felix pauses.  “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced. 

“Yes!”  You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster.  “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.” 

He turns off his screen.  Success.   You watch him slip his phone in his pocket. 

“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice.  It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder.  “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you.  His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner. 

You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt. 

It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway.  Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”

“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast.  You clasp your hand over your heart.  “Just who do you think you are?  First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right.  Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it.  But you wouldn’t know anything about that.  You know why, Felix?” 

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat. 

You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you.  Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face.  You try really hard not to gulp. 

“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say.  “You always do what you’re told.  You always follow the rules.  I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they?  I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby.  And you are, aren’t you, Felix?  You’re just such a good, good boy.  But me?  I’m not good.  I’m not bad.  I just like to win.  When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it.  Until it’s all mine.”  You lean in close.  “Get it?” 

His gaze darkens, brows pinching.  You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back.  He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp.  You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder. 

It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans.  What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan.  Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.  

You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run. 

And run.

And run. 

Hmm.  You’ve been running a long time.   Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now.  You doubt he would have truly given up.  Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game.  He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose.  You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle. 

You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath.  It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end. 

Quiet, yes.  Too quiet.   

There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head.  Felix is good.  You have to give credit where credit is due.  If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you.  But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack. 

You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you.  You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet. 

Around the next corner is the parking lot.  You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels.   He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body.  But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser. 

Then he smiles.  A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey.  That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them.  Almost.  You want to win even more.   

And he just set you up for success.  There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby.  That’s your ticket in.  You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it. 

You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run.  He thunders after you.

The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars.  He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks.  You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off.  You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand.   He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched.   You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs.  You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went.  Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.  

You leave the lot and run back the way you first came.  You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush. 

Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline.  Victory is in sight.  You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –

— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground. 

You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully.  You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back. 

Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back.  You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again. 

“You’re a monster!” you shout.  “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”

He handcuffs you.

“Ha.”  He leans in close, speaking right into your ear.  “I win.” 

“That’s not fair,” you say.  “You can’t just—ahh!”  You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet.  His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…

…back to the sidewalk.

“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion.  You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived.   He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it.  Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners. 

“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says. 

“Fine.”  You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you.  “But I’m like a wolf, Felix.  I have your scent for life.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says.  “Not how wolves work by the way.  But fine.”

“Oh wow, sorry.  Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology.  You got any other fun facts?”  

“You are so—”

You smirk at his grumbling.  You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action.  With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist.  He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.

“What are you doing—”  He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward.  You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible. 

He stands there, mouth agape.  You tap your foot impatiently. 

When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble.  He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving.  You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments.  Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.    

“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?” 

“I dunno, Felix,” you say.  You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged.  It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down.  “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys.  And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”   

“That’s your plan?” he snaps.  “That’s your plan?” 

“What, is there an echo out here?”

“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave.  He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head.  “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you.  “Why is this happening.  Oh my god.” 

You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.

“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police?  How would you get out of that?”

“Wait,” you say.  “Why aren’t you doing that?” 

“Because.”

He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels.  You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail.  He clenches his jaw.

“Felix,” you say.  “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”

“Because,” he says through gritted teeth.  “The handcuffs.  Are.  Not.  Regulation.” 

You look at each other.  There is a long moment of silence. 

Then, “What!”  You cackle with complete and utter abandon. 

A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh. 

“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest.  “You?  You?  You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have?  What the fuuuuuck—”  You think you might die laughing. 

“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims.  “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you!  Hello.  Hello.”  He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his.   He jingles your joined hands.  “Not regulation,” he says.  “There are no other keys in this building.” 

Silence falls again. 

Then, “Oh.”  You stare at him.  “Shit.” 

A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key.  You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.   

You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together.  You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises. 

The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably.  He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it. 

“This is so stupid,” he says.  He throws a stick at the wall.  “I am a good worker.  I never break the rules.  I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this.  You did this to me.” 

On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch. 

“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around.  “It has to be here somewhere.” 

It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple.  The stadium lights blare down on you.  Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground.  The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning.  He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile. 

“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”

“It’s not a tank top,” he says.  “It’s a t-shirt.  I cut the sleeves off.  And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”

“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.” 

“It’s not a tank top.”   

You continue to search.  It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get.   It just doesn’t make sense!  Things don’t just disappear!  The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…

You see it first.  You sit there in a stunned stupor.  You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.

“What?” he says without looking at you.  You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his.  “What!” 

You point.  He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder.  You feel him exhale. 

“Please don’t tell me…”   

You both lean to look down the sewer drain.  He flashes his phone light over it.  Something silver glints back in the darkness. 

“Fuck!” Felix says.  He doesn’t stop there.  What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry.  When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.   

“So what happens now?” you ask.  “Do we fuck?”

“What?”  He looks at you with utter bewilderment.  “What the fuck?  Why would you suggest that?  What would that solve?”

“Nothing,” you say.  “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.” 

“You are insane,” he says.  “I am handcuffed to an insane person.” 

“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place.  I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.” 

“I dare you,” he says.  “Try.”

“No,” you say.  And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side.  But Felix doesn’t need to know that.  Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation.  “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead.  You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention.  “Figure it out, pretty boy.” 

“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”

“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest.  He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you.  “We’re not doing that!  What a stupid plan!  You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy.  Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.” 

“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine.  I have another pair at home so the keys—”

“Wait,” you interrupt.  “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today?  Why do you have another key at home?”

“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”

“You—”

“Already own a pair, yes, move on.”  He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes.  “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”

“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke.  Wow, Felix.”  You giggle helplessly.  “Be careful or I might start to like you.” 

He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink. 

“Let’s just go,” Felix says.  “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”

“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!” 

Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet.  Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away.  You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.   

“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.

“You don’t,” he replies.

“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?” 

“I don’t.”  He sounds more annoyed than afraid.  “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever.  I’ll take my chances.  Come on.” 

“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble. 

He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale.  He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.

“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t.  In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking.  If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.” 

It is so cold and sarcastic. 

It gets you so hot. 

Seriously, what is with your stupid brain?  How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that?  Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.  

You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you.  He just snorts and shakes his head. 

“What?” you ask. 

“Interesting,” he replies.  “Very interesting.”   

“What?”

“Nothing.”  He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was.  He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand.   “Come on,” he says.  “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble.  Time to be a good girl and do it my way.  No, stop, don’t say anything.  Be quiet.  Just walk.  Let’s go.” 

You stumble when he tugs you after him.  Your mouth is hanging open yet again.   

You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match.  You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it.  But no one has ever really taken control.  No one has ever really beat you.  No one has ever come close. 

No one.  Until today. 

You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart.   Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match.  Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string. 

You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.

And you’re going to win.  

[luvhughes43]

sweetener | jack hughes

au masterlist⭐️ (apart of the journalist! au)

the previous part is linked here !

word count: 5.8k

⋆ ★

Three hurried knocks sound out from my front door and I rush out into the entry way as if whoever is behind that door will dissipate at a moment's notice. Of course I know that wouldn't happen, because Jack Hughes is standing on the other side of my door and all week he’s been updating me on his schedule and when he’d be able to meet our daughter. 

He’s been saying that a lot, our daughter. Which, he’s right. Leighton is our daughter but the word our feels so completely foreign to me that my mind reels and my heart races every time I hear him say it. Which is another thing, because Jack is a serial texter and yet, every night this past week without fail he’s called me to talk. He’s completely committed to being a father, and now that the paternity test came back telling us what we already know, Jack is coming to meet Leighton. Our daughter. 

Jack knocks again, and I quickly comb through my hair with my fingers before slowly opening the door. 

“Hey,” Jack waves awkwardly, unsure of what to do when you’re about to meet your secret baby for the first time. We both shuffle around my entryway awkwardly, before I gesture for Jack to sit on my couch. 

“Do you want water or anything to drink?” I ask lamely, twisting a lone baby blanket that was sprawled across the back of the couch in my hands. Jack shakes his head and then rubs his sweaty palms on his jeans. 

What were you supposed to say to someone who was meeting their baby for the first time? Somebody that you had so much history with? Somebody who, despite everything that happened, still has a prominent place in your heart? You wouldn’t know. 

Jack opens his mouth, before quickly shutting it again. 

“I’ll go get Leighton,” I nod dumbly, as if that wasn’t the whole reason that we were both here. I’m not normally this awkward around Jack but… under the circumstances any sort of social queues I know have gone right out of the window. I don't let Jack reply before I shuffle out of the room. 

Leighton is dressed in a pink one piece onesie which was a gift from Jack’s mother, Ellen. Who for the last week has been texting me and sending things over to the apartment. 

As soon as Jack hears my footsteps, he's rushing to his feet and facing us. “Oh wow…” he murmurs as soon as he lays eyes on our daughter. “This is so much better than the pictures and videos…” he trails off again, referring to the numerous videos I've sent him of our daughter this past week. 

“Do you want to hold her?” I ask, to which Jack immediately nods. I gesture for him to sit back down on the couch and he happily obliges. 

“She’s gorgeous,” Jack awes as I shift Leighton to rest into his arms. I’m not surprised that I don’t have to tell Jack how to hold a baby properly, he’s always been so well versed with children. Even when we were dating babies and kids just seemed to gravitate towards him, making it easy for him to handle kids.

Tears rush to Jack’s waterline as he holds his daughter for the first time. He doesn’t bother to wipe them away as they freely run down his cheeks. “I have a baby,” he whispers, gaze soft as he stares at our little girl. “Hi Leighton,” he says again, voice slightly louder as he tries to get the young girl's attention. She smiles up at him gummily, before reaching a chubby hand out and latching onto one of her dad’s fingers. 

I silently pull my phone out of my pocket and capture the sweet moment between the two. I had imagined this moment for months, but no dream would ever compare to what was sitting before me. Jack softly cooing at our daughter, completely in awe of her would be something that I would never forget. 

⋆ ★

When Jack looks back on the past year, he can’t help but wince. If he was more mature maybe he wouldn’t have let you walk away so easily - maybe he would have seen through Vivienne's deceptions and would have realized that he wasn’t truly happy with her. After meeting his daughter and getting to spend time with you in person today he made a promise to himself that he would do better for himself and for his family. 

His family. Whom he had just fully met a few hours ago and yet his happiness still hadn’t slowed or ebbed away yet. It was all so incredibly surreal.

“Like I'm telling you, that was the most.. Like the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jack spoke hurriedly on the phone to his older brother Quinn. “I have a daughter, and she’s real, and I held her today,”

“That’s really great,” 

“She grabbed a hold of my finger! She has a really good grip, probably going to be better than all of us at hockey,” Quinn only laughed in response. 

“When can I meet her?” he asked. 

“I don’t know, I'll have to talk to y/n about everything. We’re taking it slow right now you know? Just trying to get me comfortable with the baby and all that,” Jack answers, excitement still laced in his voice. “Mom sent Leighton some things though which… Leighton… What a pretty name? Like I have a daughter”

“I’m really happy everything's starting to work out for you,” Quinn responded. After all the dramatics of the past few weeks, the future was finally starting to brighten.

“Thank you,” Jack replied honestly, mind still reeling from the day's events. “I have a family.” 

⋆ ★

ynuser

liked by jackhughes, claudia, and others

ynuser my whole world🤍

jackhughes added to their story !

⋆ ★

“Are you okay? Why are you smiling so hard?” my best friend said to me as I finished doing my makeup. 

“What? I’m fine!”

“No seriously, what’s going on?” Claudia continues, easily seeing past my poorly constructed lies. 

“Jack’s coming over to see Leighton tonight,” I can’t help the smile on my face as it grows. Jack’s coming over. How long have I waited to say that? Now that this whole mess is behind us, we’ve really started to carve out a routine for ourselves. Jack would make the trip to NYC as much as he could within his schedule, and he’d come over and spend time with Leighton and I. Everything is finally starting to fall into place, and so sue me for getting a little excited that he had the whole evening free to spend time with Leighton and I. 

Claudia rolled her eyes, “You’re moving fast,”

At her words, my forehead scrunches. I don’t like the way she said it, moving fast, it sounds like she disapproves of Jack and I starting to co-parent.

“Well, we already have a kid together so I think it’s a little too late for ‘moving fast’” I remark, busying myself in my makeup bag so she doesn’t see the clear displeasure coating my features. 

Claudia studies me for a minute and I wish she wouldn't. I understand that Jack’s and I’s situation is completely out of the ordinary and that we were childish and immature before. But honestly, how else are we supposed to go about this situation if not barrel straight ahead? We waited for him to meet Leighton until the paternity was settled, we created a clear schedule for his visits and we’ve spent hours discussing how we would go about co-parenting. 

“Nothing I guess,” she shrugs simply. I reach for my powdered blush and messily reapply.

It’s tense for the next five minutes it takes for me to finish my makeup.

 “Well, how “fast” should we be going? Because, I know I'm trying the best that I can here. We have a history, and we have a baby, so i’m sorry if you think things seem to be going “too fast” for you,” 

“You're right, I'm sorry” Claudia immediately apologizes, probably not realizing how her words had offended me earlier.

Ever since Jack started making a reappearance in my life Claudia’s had an attitude about it… always wanting to sprinkle little comments here and there. I get that she’s overprotective, but she takes it too far with Jack. It wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t here for my pregnancy and the first few months of Leighton’s life. 

“I’m sorry,” I sigh. “Things have been… nice recently and I just need this to work out.” 

Claudia nods in understanding, and it makes me want to take my apology back.

When Jack comes over two hours later, any sense of annoyance or stress I was feeling immediately dissipates. We do our usual, watch over Leighton and play with her. She’s only a few months old and so there’s not much that she can do yet besides smile and play peek-a-boo, which I'm learning Jack excels at. 

“And… peek-a-boo!” the hockey player enthuses for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening to an excited baby. Leighton face scrunches up as she lets out another round of loud laughs, which immediately causes Jack and I to giggle.

“We have the cutest kid!”

“We really do,” Jack replies, eyes trained on our daughter who's smiling up at him. I leave the two to play as I make my way into my kitchen. It’s already getting quite late and since Jack’s keeping Leighton entertained… I might as well make dinner before he has to leave and I have to watch over her again. She always gets fussy closer to her bedtime, making it essentially impossible to cook dinner before she’s asleep. 

I pull out all of my necessary ingredients before pausing. “Jack?”

“What?” he calls out. 

“Are you staying for dinner? I’m making pasta” I respond, walking back into the living room so we don't have to yell. 

“Ohh can I? I’ve missed your cooking so much,” 

He missed my cooking… it was such a simple task and yet my heart melted… There was so much we seemed to be missing of each other these days.

Dinner coincidentally ends up being ready just as soon as Jack finishes putting Leighton to bed.

“It’s crazy to think that we’re parents,” Jack voices his thoughts aloud in between bites of his dinner. “Like, really. Were mother and father… like that's insane,”

“Are you having doubts?” I joke, knowing that he’s fully committed to being a father. His amazon cart alone proves that with all the toys and outfits he has ordered for our daughter. 

“No never! Are you kidding me? Being with you two… it feels right,” 

I giggle and end up having to cover my mouth with my hands. 

“What?”  

“I’m sorry that was just really cute,” I explain myself, lowering my hands so that Jack could see my wide smile which he immediately reciprocates with his usual gorgeous smile. 

Jack leans his head on the palm of his hand, and things finally feel like they used to. If I wanted to I could reach my hand out and hold his, but just knowing that he was here was enough. For so many months I wished that what I was seeing now would become true and now everything had finally turned out. 

“I’m really happy y/n”

“I’m really happy too,” my face tingles, but unlike my smile I make no move to cover the redness that was no doubt coating my cheeks. 

⋆ ★

Now that I am back from maternity leave, it seems like my boss is trying to punish me. I’m constantly getting all of the shitty news stories, and I've been getting less opportunities to get out on the field. Therefore, I've been stuck in the office all day writing fluff pieces about influencers and brands that “you need in your life!”. 

So, when I got the call that there was an important story that I could work on but it would mean I had to come into the office on my day off… well… I was going into the office. 

Now usually I had somebody to watch Leighton on the days that I work, but there was just no way that I would be able to find somebody to watch her on such a short notice. So, I did the only thing that I could think of and asked Jack if he was willing to watch Leighton by himself… for the first time. 

The day started out simply enough. Jack had come over to y/n's apartment early with breakfast and some coffee for the both of them. He listened dutifully to y/n explaining Leightons morning routine, and he prepared the baby a fresh bottle with no stress. Even after y/n had left for work, Jack had been running the place smoothly and without any hiccups. Which is why around mid-afternoon when Leighton refused her bottle that Jack had panicked.

“Okay, please just eat. I know you're hungry,” he cooed to the small girl who was cradled tightly against his chest. She squirmed, tears running down her face at a rapid speed. 

He had rocked Leighton, burped her, walked around the apartment with her bundled in his arms all in hopes of her quieting down. When nothing worked he had checked her diaper, changed it although it was clean, and warmed up her bottle again in case that may have been the issue. She continued on wailing.

“Please Leighton, eat for daddy please. Settle down, it's okay!” He tried his hardest but nothing was working. He debated on calling his parents but ultimately thought it was pathetic that he didn’t know how to take care of his own child. He had missed out on so many months with his girl, what if he fucked today up and was never allowed to take care of her again? Jack started to spiral. 

Another painstakingly long hour went by, and Jack felt as if he had truly lost his mind. Nothing was helping Leighton settle down, and now Jack was so far behind y/ns schedule that he was feeling beyond hopeless. 

“Just- okay just eat!” Jack tried again, but every time Leighton got close to the bottle she would shift her head away and cry. “I don't know how to help you!” he rocked his daughter in his arms. “Please, help me help you,” 

It was to no surprise that Leighton kept crying. So Jack did the only thing that he could think of doing next, he walked swiftly to Leightons crib and left her there. Once she was confined in her crib, he simply walked out of her room and back into the living room where he fished his headphones out of his bag. 

Jack's shoulders sagged in relief when the first few chords of some country song played. 

I’m not a good dad

I don’t know what to do

How am I supposed to be a father?

After two more songs played in their entirety, Jack called his mom. 

“Are you okay…?” I ask as soon as I catch sight of Jack whose shoulders were sagging. 

“Listen, everyone has already asked me that tonight so I don't need to hear it again. you don’t need to lecture me”

“Excuse me? I don’t even know what’s wrong?” “It was my first time watching my daughter, and I fucked up, I know”

“Jack… I'm not mad at you?” 

“Right, whatever” he says, gathering all his belongings that were scattered throughout my apartment and stuffing them in his bag. 

I stare at him in confusion, “Can we talk about this?”

Jack continues stuffing shit in his bag, and I walk towards him and place a firm hand on his shoulder. He shrugs it off, twisting towards me. “I don't want to talk about it,” 

I scoff, patience truly wiening thin. “Well, I’m Leighton’s mother and I would like to talk about what happened”

“I can’t do this with you tonight” Jack sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“Do what? Communicate?”

“Look, i’ve had a rough week at work and i’ve been a shit dad tonight so I really don’t need to hear you bitch at me right now”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t talk to me like that.” 

“Like what!” Jack says defensively. 

“Saying I'm going to bitch at you! I want us to talk through things. You getting upset over a few minor mistakes isn’t going to get us anywhere. Leighton is fine, you’re fine, so tell me what’s really going on so that we can get past this”

Jack scoffs, “there's nothing going on”

“Well, you’re being all rude and defensive so there must be something” I snark, truly fed up with Jack’s behaviour. I understand that today was a lot for him, and maybe it wasn’t the best idea for him to watch Leighton for a full day when he’s only used to a few hours but he can at least try and speak nicely to me. 

“You know what? I don’t need this right now” Jack says, breaking his stance and making quick steps towards the door. 

I’m hot on his heels and he yanks the door open. “Jack?”

He slams the door, and i’m left reeling with whatever the fuck just happened. 

⋆ ★

3 weeks later...

DEUXMOI

liked by vivienne, and others

deuxmoi Jack Hughes seems to be a topic of demand recently…. But don’t worry! Viviennes new podcast episode will cover everything you need to know and more! Stay tuned

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user19 vivienne sending her own “tip” into deuxmoi just so she can get views on her new podcast episode… deuxmoi hits a new low every day

user20 this is actually so embarrassing omg

user21 nhl players on deuxmoi is my worst nightmare tbh

user22 theyve been on here for awhile lol its nothing new

user23 ohhhh i’ll be tuned in!

user23 he definitely cheated on her omgggg😭😭

⋆ ★

Pretty Girls Podcast EP 22: Mr. NHL Man

[audio] timestamp: 24:33 - 1:13:03

Co-host: Okay maybe we should address the elephant in the room!

Vivienne: The elephant in the room? I’m crying… [laughs], but yes everybody is here to know about my ex-boyfriend situation so let's just get into it

Co-host: Right so… 

Vivienne: Okay so Jack Hughes!

[both laugh]

Co-host: Oh we're just coming right out and saying it!

Vivienne: I mean everybody knows

Co-host: Right, so let's get into it. What's the story? Because you’ve only told me parts of the story but I don't-

Vivienne: I haven't really gone into detail with anybody yet so this is like, an exclusive

Vivienne: But anyway… as we all know… Jack and I were seeing each other for a while and we were pretty official by the time I did the podcast with Alix Earle. So there was this whole bit of Alix calling her boyfriend “mr. nfl man” and so I teased Jack by calling him Mr. NHL man.

Co-host: Right as one does! And I just want to add, Vivienne and Jack were - you guys were kind of serious at this point. Like your relationship wasn’t just a fling like there’s a reason you're talking about it on the pod. 

Vivienne: Yeah we were fully dating by that point. Like he was staying over at my apartment and things like that. 

Co-host: How did you guys get together? You should tell the whole story, like I'm already sensing the hate comments you’ll get if you don’t tell this right.

Vivienne: Okay. So, I met Jack through a mutual friend of ours and that's how we started talking. We went on a few dates to bars and things, and we really got along well, or at least I thought we did. 

Co-host: Were there any warning signs?

Vivienne: Honestly… 

Vivienne: Things were really good between us and we had a “normal” relationship for the first few months. Like we got together around the beginning of the hockey season, and we broke up like, right before he went on personal leave if you guys keep up with the NHL side of things.

Vivienne: But basically we were doing completely fine and it wasn’t until people started catching on that Jack and I were dating that things became rocky. 

Co-host: I've also seen a lot of things about an ex that he had? Like I'm just going to come out and say it, did he cheat on you?

Vivienne: Honestly, till this day I don't really know. 

Co-host: What? What do you mean?

Vivienne: He didn't tell me why we broke up. Like, I'm being so serious. One day he came over to my apartment and just broke up with me and then unfollowed me on everything. 

Co-host: Oh my god??

Vivienne: Honestly, I think it's because of his ex. Like, the amount of times I caught him searching through his photo albums of her is insane.

Co-host: What an asshole oh my god?? Do you know if they got back together or if they were talking while you two were still together?

Vivienne: No they weren’t talking

Co-host: How do you know?

Vivienne: I uh… 

Co-host: Did you go through his texts or something?

Vivienne: Well… [short pause].. No I didn’t- well- I know he wasn’t

Co-host: Okay…

Vivienne: But it was clear there was something going on there [weak laugh]

Co-host: Damn…

Vivienne: But anyway, he broke up with me unexpectedly and I just don't know why

Co-host: To be honest it sounds like he cheated on you and just didn't want to own up to it.

Vivienne: Yeah… I mean possibly. The ex thing was..

Co-host: He was just using you as a distraction and that really sucks for you.

Vivienne: It's just an awful situation. Like it was clear that he was still hung up on his ex and now I look like an idiot in front of everyone for making our relationship public.

Co-host: I don't think you look like an idiot. You thought the relationship was going to work out and now people are flooding your comment section begging to know what happened. Plus, it's Jack's fault anyway. Like he's no stranger to cheating allegations so what are you supposed to do?

Vivienne: Yeah… my dms are full of his fans basically blaming me for the breakup when they don't even know what happened. 

Vivienne: So, I just want it to be clear that I did nothing. Like I didn't want us to break up. 

Co-host: Even though you knew about the ex?

Vivienne: Yeah… I just felt so… like our relationship was really good I think I would have put up with anything. But now that it’s over i'm stuck looking back and… well it’s clear he maybe wasn’t always faithful or he had commitments with his ex. 

Co-host: Gosh…

Vivienne: But that's honestly it. After this episode is over I'm not talking about this. It's honestly really hurtful…

[end of snippet]

⋆ ★

“y/n i’m so sorry,” Jack's words are fast as he paces the floor of my entryway. He had a game in a few hours which he would no doubt be late for, seeing as he’s all the way in New York City instead of Newark.

“What are you doing here? You have a game?” I wonder aloud, Leighton softly cooing from her spot on my chest. 

Jack pauses at the sound of his daughter and his eyes visibly soften. “I’m really sorry,”

“I wasn’t mad at you,”

“I’m just afraid to mess things up again,”

“Jack…”

“And I'm sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t your fault that I got upset,” 

I walk towards Jack and place a comforting hand on his arm, mindful of our daughter that was strapped to my front.

“I should have stayed,” he says into my hair, his arm coming around to hold onto me. 

I turn my body to hold him properly, and Leighton babbles away as she’s wedged between her parents. “You were overwhelmed. You're not used to watching her all the time and that’s okay,”

“I should be okay watching her while you’re at work I just-”

“You have to be kind to yourself,” I start, slowly pulling yourself away from Jack to lead the two of us into the living room. “It took me a long time to learn Leightons needs and how to read her. With more time you’ll learn and become more comfortable,”

Jack nods reluctantly, ultimately realizing that what I was saying was the truth. We sit in silence for a while, both wanting nothing more than to move on from this situation. 

“Come to my game tonight?” Jack breaks the silence. “You and Leighton? Please?” 

“You want us to come… tonight?” I question. Was this a good idea? 

Jack nods and takes Leighton out of my hands. “I think she should come to her first game,” 

“Okay….” I’m slow to agree. When Jack and I were dating, I barely went to his games. He never really invited me, and I had always felt weird about asking. With our relationship so private, we usually just appreciated each other’s careers from afar. 

Jack looks away from our daughter and back up at me, “I've talked to management about our… situation and they’re okay with you sitting in the box with Nico since he’s out” Jack explains. “It’ll be completely safe, and if you're worried about the drive to the stadium I’ve got my car and I can drive you” 

“What about afterwards?” 

“I can drive you back here after the game or you can stay at my place… I've… i've bought a bassinet for Leighton and some things if you guys want to stay the night,” 

“Okay,” I agree easily now. “Let me pack some of our stuff and we’ll stay with you tonight,”Jack looks beyond relieved at my words.

njdevils

Liked by jackhughes, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, and others

njdevils Jack is back and meeting some fans 🔥

tagged: jackhughes

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jackhughes ❤️

_quinnhughes Love to see it

user24 jack and quinns comments… okay….

user25 jack is such a girl dad ugh! so cute!

user26 jack would be such a good dad im crying

user27 hold on is that his ex gf?? she looks like the same girl from the fan pics

user28 omfg wait???

⋆ ★

nhl.drama

liked by hughesl0ver43, and 351 others

nhl.drama jack hughes ex gf, vivienne aiden, reveals in her podcast that jack seemingly broke up with her for no reason. she also claims that he would constantly look at pictures of his ex gf while they were together, and he may have possibly cheated. what are your thoughts?💭

-

#jackhughes #nhl #vivienneaiden #confession #nhldrama

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user29 this is honestly just ridiculous like she clearly made this all up

user30 ? what how do u know

user29 she kept rambling on, couldn't confirm if Jack cheated or not, and just started bringing up his ex gf? And also, if she really didn’t know why he broke up with her/would still go back to him.. why would she make a whole podcast about it? it fr doesn't make sense

user31 They said Jack has a history of cheating? How would they even know that i’m so confused

user32 viv was his ex lmao im sure somebody warned her about him.

user33 i think it’s so weird that some of u guys are sticking up for jack… like vivienne sounded so sad / upset during the podcast… like he obviously did something wrong regardless of if shes telling the truth or not.

user34 she did not sound upset at all… she was legit laughing throughout the whole podcast and she could not make up her mind on which “story” she was gonna tell. she clearly lied and i hope jack sues her ass🤷‍♀️

user35 the timeline of this whole thing is so interesting tbh. like what ex are they talking about? also, i wish viv confirmed why jack took a personal leave lol. she left out all the interesting bits

user36 “ex gf” …. do yall think it was the girl from last year ? istg they refollowed each other after vivienne and jack broke up

user37 this whole drama is so lame IMO. just another girl looking for her 5 seconds of fame… nobody should care if jack cheated or not because his job is to play HOCKEY. honestly who gaf about his personal life

user38 his personal life is bleeding into his game lol. 

user39 LEAVE HIM ALONE MY GOD!!!!! U KNOW NOTHING. 

⋆ ★

Vivienne's podcast episode about her breakup with Jack had gone viral overnight. Everybody online was speculating about their relationship, as well as trying to prove each side right. Some of Jack's fans were trying hard to prove that Vivienne was lying and well, gossipers around the world were sticking up for Vivienne and trying to confirm that Jack is a serial cheater. 

Thankfully for Vivienne, she just had to sit back and enjoy the show. She knew that there was absolutely no way that Jack would come out and deny the cheating rumours, plus she knew y/n was private on everything and wouldn't come forward either. The drama would run its course for a few days until something better came along, and then Vivienne would be completely off the hook for everything. 

Alix E: just watched the pod! i hope you’re doing well❤️

Tana M: HE CHEATED ON YOU?? that's actually crazy. youre so fucking pretty. ugh, men are awful. If you ever wanna come on the cancelled podcast you're always welcome!

Alex C: Men are the worsttttt. Youre absolutely winning life though so make him regret it!💋

Everything seemed to be falling right into the palm of Viviennes hands. While Jack finding out about the whole y/n thing was a colossal nightmare, the support from her peers almost made up for it. She now had deals lining up the block, and she knew her career would only sky rocket from here on out. 

While being with Jack had pulled in massive numbers, the breakup was just insane for her social blade. She had gained soo many more followers across all platforms after posting Jack on her story, plus naming him in her podcast was just… it was honestly too good. A pr dream… It was going to be Viviennes year. 

⋆ ★

As soon as the small family made it back to Jack’s apartment after the game, they were all exhausted. Leighton had fallen asleep well into the second period, and had surprisingly stayed asleep despite how loud the arena was.

Jack quietly guided his girls into his bedroom. He set Leighton in her bassinet, and then helped me organize some of the things I brought over.  

“I haven’t been here in so long,” I mumbled as I pulled my toiletries out of her bag. 

“Well you're always welcome,” Jack whispered back as he silently watched me fumble around in the darkness.

“Shit, I forgot pyjama pants and all I have are jeans…” 

Jack immediately stands from his position in bed, mindful of the fact that Leighton is peacefully sleeping in the recently purchased bassinet. “You can have a pair of my sweats if you want?” he whispers as he walks over to his dresser and pulls out options. 

“It’s okay,”

“I’m not letting you sleep in jeans that's foul,” Jack says quietly as he gives me a pair of his sweats.

“Thank you,” my face heats up. If I wasn’t thinking about our history before, now I am. Everything was becoming a little too much… if I closed her eyes I could still picture the way things used to be. How we’d stay in his apartment and well… yeah.

Jack turned away just then, settling himself in his bed so that I could finish getting ready. He hadn’t thought too far ahead in their sleeping arrangements, and just as he started to worry that y/n might’ve found her way to the couch he felt a dip in his mattress. 

“Do you mind if…?”

“No I uh- No I don’t” Jack stuttered, completely caught off guard by their newfound closeness. 

“Thanks for tonight,” I whispered, snuggling into all of Jack’s blankets and excess pillows, all of which were bought when we were still together. 

“No worries,”

“I mean it though. Thanks for talking to me in person earlier and for driving us to the game” I continued sleepily. “And for letting us stay here tonight,” 

“Of course. Anything for my girls,” 

When there was no answer, Jack looked over to y/n's side of the bed only to find that she was already fast asleep. He checked the bassinet afterwards to find his daughter sleeping peacefully as well. Jack sighed in contentment before drifting off to sleep himself. 

My girls,

My girls, 

My girls..

Life was sweet.

next part

-

-

-

[elusive-writer]

𝘈𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘯𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘴

(GN! Reader)

I got this idea very randomly so I thought why the hell not 🤭

Word count : 671

✩ 𝘑𝘰𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘰 𝘒𝘶𝘫𝘰 ✩

Yeah no, you’re gonna have a hell of time tryna convince this man to let you paint his nails.

Be prepared to beg and bargain cause that is the only way you even have a CHANCE of changing his mind.

When he begrudgingly agrees to letting you paint his nails, (after you agree to buy his cigarettes for the remainder of the trip) he only lets you paint them black.

Maybe with a small star on the middle finger if you’re lucky 😌

(he won’t admit it, but he likes the way you hold his hands as you work 🤭)

Once you’re finished, he’ll glance at your handiwork before muttering an “it’s alright…”

actually really likes it

Will absolutely chip the nail polish on purpose so you’ll re-paint his nails.

And will absolutely deny it if you call him out on it.

✩ 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘒𝘢𝘬𝘺𝘰𝘪𝘯 ✩

Will probably be a little hesitant at first.

But after some minor convincing he just says fuck it.

And of course, a nice cherry red is the obvious choice to go.

After you’re finished tho he is LIVING for it.

He swears it’s given him like a power boost or something.

He feels fucking POWERFUL.

Insists that you let him paint yours now.

(he’s an artist so it’s obvi gonna be amazing)

Once he’s finished, you best believe he’s gonna want to show off to all the other crusaders.

and also convince them to paint their nails as well dkdkdjdjdk

Y’all would have a lot of fun with this.

✩ 𝘑𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘭𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘧 ✩

It’s you that’s asking, of course he’d let you paint his nails!

“For you mon amour, anything 😉”

He would let you do ANYTHING to him.

ahem ahem anything

ANYWAY

Would probably ask for silver because ya know… silver chariot.

But I could see him being convinced into doing a pale blue.

Or whatever your favourite colour is.

(is he easy, or can he just not decide? I honestly don’t know)

Another one that feels on top of the world once you’re finished.

Will also insist on letting him paint your nails.

The result is…. most definitely something.

you don’t say anything to spare his feelings

Will gate keep you from the others.

Can’t have HIS nail tech getting stolen 😤

✩ 𝘔𝘶𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘈𝘷𝘥𝘰𝘭 ✩

He’s a little taken aback by your request.

But you’ve proven yourself a reliable companion throughout this journey so he trusts you.

Could def see him going with a fiery orange.

Or a nice gold that compliments his jewellery.

BUT OH MY GOSH IMAGINE HIM WITH WHITE NAIL POLISH?!?

sorry, getting carried away

Finds the overall experience to be extremely relaxing.

Between the feeling of your hands and the way you subconsciously hum as you paint almost has him falling asleep.

Is honestly a little sad when it’s over.

Likes the look of the polish more than he expected.

Will be a little shy to ask for you to do this in the future but if you offer, he will happily oblige.

✩ 𝘑𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘱𝘩 𝘑𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 ✩

Oh my god don’t even get me started.

He is ASTRONOMICALLY down for this idea.

Bitch, he’s probably the one who suggested it when he saw you painting yours.

queue tequila joseph

You better believe he’s going for a bright ass pink.

His confidence to through the fucking roof and life is too short. Bring that pink polish NEOWWW.

Is one of those ppl that cannot sit still for the life of him.

You have to constantly tell him to sit the fuck down so that you’re not painting the entirety of his hand.

Once you’re finished he’s like a peacock.

🦚🦚

Constantly bragging, showing off… THE WORKS MAN.

might even bust out the old dress if he’s feeling especially bold dkdkdjd

Is absolutely gonna ask you to do this again in the future.

[octuscle]

Pride fare

Dmitri and Igor stared at the young man with the pink hair like they would stare at a disgusting insect. It was brave of Austrian Airlines to place such a faggot at Istanbul's not exactly gay-friendly airport. And God knows Dmitri and Igor weren't exactly gay-friendly either. The two were the perfect example of nouveau riche Russians. They liked to pose as oligarchs to impress women. In fact, they were rich. But oligarchs? Not at all. But who cared. The two of them had several million in accounts all over the world. Unfortunately, most of them were currently frozen. But they had enough cash with them to look forward to a fun weekend in Vienna. Getting here had been hell. The two of them mourned the days of direct flights. But the special military operation was important and just. Quite different from the reaction of the decant West to this very operation.

Max looked at the two gentlemen who wanted to check in with him. Expensive, but tastelessly dressed. Overweight. Probably over 50, but you couldn't see that very well because both were obviously lifted. Max wouldn't blow one of these two pigs for any money in the world. But Max was a professional. And remained polite. "You two sweeties, you do know that the Pride special rate is only valid for people up to 21, right?" Dmitri grunted something about "I'm not cute, you miserable faggot." But luckily Max didn't speak Russian. "No problem, you two lovebirds, I just need to adjust a few little things." Max typed on the keyboard of his computer. "There, now everything should fit. Which one of you is Dima? I'd like your suitcase." Dmitri was about to get loud and snap at this asshole, what could he think of! Dima might have been what his mother said to him. But not some smug asshole. He took a breath. And thought that Max was actually kind of cute. So he picked up his suitcase, covered in rainbow and leather-pride stickers, and heaved it onto the baggage carousel. "And, darling! What's your boyfriend's name? I assume you want to sit next to each other." "Next to Igarjok? No thanks! Set us apart. That increases the chance that we'll meet someone hot on board." "I'm very sorry," said Max with a twinkle in his eye. "But no one who checked in with me today was really hot." "Okay, I'll go first then," said Igor, heaving his studded travel bag onto the baggage carousel. Max smiled with mock agony. Yes, the man Dima had called Igarjok didn't look bad for his age. According to his ID, he was 48, but hot… Max had seen better. He handed them their rainbow-flag-colored boarding passes and wished them a good flight and lots of fun at Vienna Pride Week.

The two took their hand luggage. Dmitri had a black leather rucksack, Igor a small antique army duffel bag from the Soviet navy. Dmitri called out to Igor that he should go ahead, he wanted to take a quick piss. Igor nodded and made his way to the security checkpoint. And Dmitri went to the nearest toilet. He had hoped to find a quick fuck there. He was always horny. In the airport toilets, there was a good chance of meeting a tight Turk. And if he waved a few dollar bills, Dmitri could be sure that he wouldn't have to wait long for someone to kneel in front of him and suck his cock… And damn, the hot Turkish macho was worth every penny! Dmitri briefly checked his reflection in the mirror. The short hair, the beard shadow on the angular face, the leather jacket. Yes, he was pretty good-looking for a man in his mid-40s. It was a privilege to be allowed to suck his cock.

When he arrived in the queue for the security check, he grinned. Igor was only ten, maybe 15 people ahead of him in the queue, obviously he had also made a toilet stop. It was hot to see Igor in front of him. Igor had one hell of a tight ass. And in the army trousers he was wearing, it really stood out. He knew that. And everyone else saw that. Dmitir could see Igor arriving at the security checkpoint. He took off his bomber jacket and showed off his muscles under his tight T-shirt. He took off his studded belt, put everything in the plastic tray and went through the body scanner. It sounded the alarm. Dmitri had an idea why and grinned. Igor grinned too as he was scanned by the muscular security guard. Amazingly thorough in the crotch area. Of course, Dmitri couldn't hear anything, but obviously the security guard demanded that Igor take his plastic bowl and come with him. The two of them were lucky!

When Dmitri arrived at the security checkpoint, the employee looked decidedly cool. Dmitri had put his jacket and rucksack in the tray when the officer asked if he had anything else in his pants. He looked very clearly at Dmitri's crotch. Dmitri unbuttoned the top two buttons, enough to show the bush of hair, put his hands in his pants and awkwardly removed the cock ring from his cock and balls. "Sorry, officer, I keep forgetting that," Dmitri said with a grin. Surprisingly, despite his piercings, the body scanner didn't pick up on it. But his rucksack was taken off the conveyor belt after being scanned. The security officer waved him over, pulled his full-body harness out of the backpack and asked what it was. The officer tried unsuccessfully to look cool. "Shall I show you what it is? But I have to take my pants off to do that…" "Come with me!"

Dmitri's body search took place in the same room as Igor's. The two security officers had brought in two more colleagues to back them up. Only by joining forces did the two of them manage to plug all the holes and get on board just in time with the final and urgent call. Igor squeezed into 9E and Dmitri into 6C. Max had gone to great lengths to make them both happy. And indeed, after the two Russian stallions, the hottest guys sat in 6B, 9D and 9F. And the purser had reserved one of the toilets just for them.

At the baggage carousel in Vienna, there was no mistaking that the gays of the world were meeting up for one of their flashiest parties. And Dima and Igarjok were guests of honor at the party. Hardly noticed in the West, it was a sensation in Moscow when the two popular teen soap stars came out. The call-up order came immediately, and the two had only managed to flee to Western Europe in a hasty escape. And it was a huge stroke of luck that they had started making porn due to a lack of money. For them and for millions of fans. They didn't know how many porn magazines they had signed until their luggage arrived. Their driver was waiting outside. A hot guy. Thank goodness. It had been over an hour since their last fuck on the plane.

[cherrywrecked]

guilty — k. chaewon x p. sooyoung

cw: cheating. sexual coercion. chaewon calling joy eonnie. dni if uncomfortable with such themes.

crossposted on ao3; promoted on twitter.

chaewon had always been a fan of red velvet, even more so ever since she got to debut with sakura who, despite their busy schedule, had been following the group in particular. it was definitely a surprise when she got a message from one of the group's member, joy.

oh my god, is this real? chaewon thought to herself as she read the message from her senior, telling her she had asked their manager to get chaewon's personal number and that she wanted to get to know the girl better as she found chaewon interesting. the younger girl didn't think much of it, as she was over the moon, happy that their senior idol has recognized her.

chaewon quickly replied, thanking the girl for taking the time to personally get to know her and the next thing she know, she was on her way to meet up with joy late at night.

"you're here." joy said smiling at chaewon as the younger bowed at her. "sunbae-nim, thank you for inviting me." chaewon timidly said as she took a sit in front of joy. the two of them enjoyed their time talking about almost anything over wine without even realizing the time.

"oh no, it's gotten a bit late. do you have any schedules tomorrow—today, i mean." joy worriedly asked and chaewon completely dismisses that by replying no and explaining that they were on a three day break after their promotions. "really? that sounds nice, i'm on a break too. do you want to sleep over?" thrilled, chaewon didn't think twice but to agree, not knowing what's in store for her.

it was pas two am when they've arrived at joy's apartment. "feel comfortable, chaewon-ah. i'll get you a pair of pajamas so you can wash up, mhm?" joy said to which chaewon nodded and started to look around the living room of the apartment. it was spacious, clean, and the whole vibe is what you would of expected of park sooyoung. "here, pretty. there's a bathroom at the end of the hallway, get cozy, i'll wait here." and chaewon did as she was told. although there was one, tiny problem— she's unprepared and didn't have panties to wear underneath the satin short pj's her new unnie has given her.

it was okay, chaewon thought. it's not like it should be a big deal. both of them were girls and hell, joy was in a relationship, isn't she? they're just friends. when chaewon got out of the bathroom with fresh clothes, joy was in a similar pair of pj's, except it was in red while chaewon's was in pink. "i had to match yours!" joy giggled as she pat the space next to her on the couch, opening a can of beer for chaewon to take.

"unnie, i really didn't think i'd be friends with you." chaewon says earning a giggle from the older. "yeah? but i've always wanted to be your friend! i thought your group reminded me of ours when we were younger. are any of your members dating?" the younger profusely shook her head denying as her cheeks blushed, to which joy teased her for. "mhm? fucking, then?" a deeper shade of red flushed chaewon's cheeks. "unnie! it's not like... it's not like that." still blushing, chaewon's voice was a bit squeakier now. joy rested her back, intrigued.

"yeah? how is it, then? i mean, nothing wrong with fucking around, right?" the older nonchalantly took a sip of her beer whilst the younger looked at her like a curious lamb, cheeks red from blushing. "i... i guess? i-i've never..." chaewon's voice was soft and quiet but it was loud enough to catch joy's attention. the older briefly raising a brow at the remark and chaewon didn't fail to catch that. shy, she could only down the remaining of her beer. "you're a virgin?" the younger could only nod timidly, head dipped down. this was joy's queue to do what she had wanted.

"but have you ever thought of doing it, with, i don't know, somebody? a peer?" joy asked with so much fascination, as if she was genuinely curious and it made chaewon sigh. i mean, she's my senior, right? i'm sure she's just... curious. "mhm..." she shook her head, biting on her lower lip. "i... tried doing it alone but it doesn't feel good." chaewon couldn't even finish her sentence without squeaking, embarrassment washing over her. she couldn't help but hide her face in her palms, earning a low chuckle from joy who took the liberty to scoot closer, holding the younger in her arm while the other caressed her legs.

"oh, sweetheart. it doesn't feel good at first. i used to not feel good too," joy cooed, "not until irene unnie helped me." shocked, chaewon finally looked at joy, eyes as wide as doe; she looks so innocent, joy thought.

"irene...sunbaenim did?" joy nodded, all smiley. but didn't joy unnie have a partner? "i know what you're thinking. irene unnie does it best." chaewon looked down to see joy's hand on her inner thigh, caressing the softness of her skin which made her shudder. looking up at the older, she mumbled as she called out for joy's name. "u-unnie?"

"you know, chaewon, it's not even hard to feel good. you just have to feel appreciated with someone." joy's voice was soft, dotting onto chaewon. "appreciated the same way as i do you." joy whispered against chaewon's ears, lips touching her lobe. "u-unnie, w-we can't," the younger, quivering away, says, but sooyoung only held her closer, her hand that was on chaewon's inner thigh, now dangerously close to her center, caressing her soft skin. "mhm? don't you want unnie to show you her love?" the cunning girl said, trailing kisses on chaewon's neck. chaewon didn't know what to do, she knew this was wrong. joy has a partner, but why does she feel funny? she feels as though she wanted joy—no, she does want her.

"i-i do! b-but your b-boyfriend...?" that made joy laugh out loud. boyfriend... funny because right now, all she ever wants was this young girl in front of her. "shh, you worry too much, baby. let unnie take care of you, mhm?" chaewon nodded and the next thing she know, the older had her sit in between her legs, head turned as joy kissed her softly yet chaewon felt the eagerness in the kiss.

chaewon hummed against joy's lips as joy ran her tongue along her lower lip to which chaewon parted. she wasn't a great kisser—hell, far from it, but joy loved the taste of her mouth mixed with the taste of beer and the clumsiness of chaewon's tongue. she's so clueless, so innocent yet you know hungry for what's yet to come her way. joy drags her lips down chaewon's jaw, trailing them down the younger's jaw, earning a soft sigh from chaewon. "mhm, you smell good." she whispered against chaewon's neck, before sucking on a patch of skin making the smaller girl gasp out both in pain and pleasure of the older marking her. “you like that?” joy chuckled lowly, her hands now caressing chaewon's boobs through the thin satin top.

her nipples were hard, harder every time joy rolls them in between her fingers, even more so when joy finally unbuttoned her pajamas, now toying her hard buds bare. "u-unnie..." chaewon whimpered, subconsciously pushing her hips upwards. to joy, it was the sweet girl begging to get touched where she deserves it. joy used her hands to spread chaewon's legs, caressing her softly, hands purposely ignoring where the little girl wants its best. "u-unnie, i want to feel good." chaewon whispered.

joy didn't bother replying but her hand found its way inside of chaewon's shorts and to her delight, the sweet girl was already wet and ready for her. "good girl, all ready for her unnie, am i right?" joy's teasing remark made the younger whine, burying her face onto the taller girl's neck. joy used her index finger to gently rub chaewon's clit, earning a moan from the girl. her sounds only amplified joy's desire to have the girl, making her move her fingers faster in small, circular motions, her thumb occasionally flicking chaewon's clit—the little girl squirming with every flick. chaewon's never felt this before, god, she felt so fucking good, she wants more.

without thinking, chaewon moved her hips, eager to feel more of her unnie's hand on her center. "unnie, more, please..." that was all joy wanted to hear from her. talking her out to continuing it in her room, chaewon laid in her bed, all naked and ready for her. intoxicated with all the drinks they've had all night, it was hard for chaewon to move, yet alone think properly as soon as she felt the soft mattress. however, joy's presence and how the taller girl slowly took off her own clothes, seducing her, was enough to wake her up. "uh, uh, stay down, my sweet angel. spread your legs for unnie, will you?" joy said with her sweetest smile, but that wasn't what chaewon was focused in. it was her beautiful, plump tits, moving along with every step she took as she got closer to her. "i-is this really okay, unnie? what if you boyfrie—" chaewon didn't even get to finish her sentence when joy had finally settled herself in between the younger's legs, the side of her leg resting on her inner thighs as she looked up to meet chaewon's eyes. "we don't talk about him here, alright? we're here because i like you, chaewon-ah. i want you to feel good." chaewon let out a sharp gasp as joy finally pressed her lips over chaewon's clit, giving it a kiss before she wrapped her lips around the nub, earning a loud moan from the younger.

joy took her time, using her tongue, rolling it around chaewon's clit, flicking it, and every time she does, chaewon's body flinches and her moans grow louder as she get wetter with every touch. "you're so wet, chaewon-ah. do you like this, mhm? you like it when i touch you like this?" chaewon could only moan in response as she felt joy's middle and index finger slipping inside her hole, a loud, high pitched moan coming out from chaewon's parted lips as she felt her finger inside of her.

"n-no, no... no! unnie, take it out, p-please, it stings! it hurts!" chaewon said in a panic, trying to pull away from joy. the older shushing her down— she expected she would be tight, but not as tight as this. chaewon's walls hugged fingers as tight as it could. "god, you're so fucking tight, chaewon-ah. you really were a virgin, were you?" joy whispered but loud enough for chaewon to hear. it was her hot breath against her clit that made her shiver and forget about the pain. letting the girl adjust, she peppered her core soft kisses, trying to ease the pain for her before she started to slowly curl her fingers inside of chaewon, the younger’s body arching as the tip of joy’s fingers easily found her spot, the virgin, overwhelmed with this, almost came, but it wasn’t enough for her to actually cum. “tsk, you’re not to cum yet, sweetheart. this isn’t even all yet.” was all joy had to say before she started thrusting her fingers in and out of chaewon’s cunt whilst her lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it.

“unnie—f-fuck! f-feels so g-good… fuck, joy unnie…” chaewon’s words came out slightly gibberish, joy could only chuckle but the vibrations from that only made chaewon squeal in delight as it felt so good against her clit. increasing the pace of her fingers, she even curls her fingers inside every after thrust she makes and it was driving chaewon insane. the young girl doesn’t know where to put her hands, but it finds its way to joy’s head, pulling her hair. fuck, this gir’s driving me insane, joy could only think as she liked the inflicted pain from the hair pulling.

the simple hair pulling was enough for joy to increase her pace. chaewon had started riding her thrusts, hips moving in sync with every thrust. strings of begs and profanities escaped chaewon’s pretty lips. her tongue sticking out and joy can swear it was as if she was begging for a cock to fuck her face and mouth. the older girl felt chaewon’s walls hug her fingers tighter even more than before. it was insane, she never realized how tight someone can be, but here chaewon was, proving her wrong. “u-unnie… g-good… m-more… no— my t-tummy…” words were coming out funny, but chaewon’s head was all over the place as she felt pressure building on her abdomen. her juices were dripping down to her ass, coating joy’s finger so so fucking well. “oh, baby, look at you, so fucking wet for unnie, aren’t you?” joy’s cunning remark along with the slaps on her clit that replaced her mouth made chaewon’s body curl and squirm, loud, airy moans coming out of her mouth. she shook her head, not knowing where to look nor what to do. she just feels… good.

joy pulled herself up, mouth now sucking on her hard nipples, rolling around the nub before she nibbled and flicked on each nub alternatively. her hunger heightened with every move the sweet girl does, every noise that escapes her mouth. she wanted chaewon and now, she wants her more than ever. “cum for unnie, my sweet chaewon. show me you appreciate me the way i do you.” joy’s voice was so beautiful, so daring, so sexy.

“i-i’m cumming… cumming! u-unnie—!” chaewon’s voice was loud as well as her gasp. it was sharp and her breathing stopped as her walls clenched so tightly around joy, her cum coating her fingers, her clit pulsating against joy’s thumb that had been rubbing circles clumsily around it. “beautiful… fuck, chaewon, you’re so, so good for me.” joy kissed her on the lips as she pulled her fingers out. chaewon looked at her, tears glossing her eyes, breathing heavily as she gain composure back from her first high… her very first ever. “unnie…” chaewon says and pauses.“it felt so good, but… i feel guilty. so, so guilty.”  before joy could even console her, chaewon pulled the older woman up with all her remaining strength, hands now groping joy’s tits, feeling her nipples get hard with her caressing them. she wasn’t going to cry. was she guilty knowing joy had a boyfriend? no. far from it. chaewon felt guilty that she loved it, she loves it. and that she wanted more. “can i return the favor? i feel bad not doing so.” chaewon said with the weakest yet cutest chuckle joy has ever heard. who was she now to say no?

note: i'll leave it at that... for now. and as for my tags, i'm going to keep the kyna writes tag for my write ups for easier access for the all of us, heh. thank you!

[rosyheretic]

little bird (part 2) (steve rogers x fem!reader)

part 1

summary: steve rogers has been acting strangely around you for months, and now you know why: he found out about your crush on him and decided to tease you until you couldn't take it, as penance for your insubordination in the field. how much of steve's provocation can you take? and does he enjoy working you up? (part 2: oh yeah he does)

warnings: smut (18+), fingering, spanking, unprotected sex (bad), praise kink, size kink? ish? it's steve c'mon, witch reader, dirty talk, aftercare (fluff?)

notes: thank you guys for reading the first part! hopefully the grand finale lives up to your expectations. i plan to keep writing and hopefully improve, so let me know if you have any feedback or requests! up next on the queue is a sex pollen fic (with a twist!) because i'm a simple woman.

steve grinned at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, hoisting you up to perch you on the counter.

his big hands fell on your knees and pushed them apart so that he could stand between your legs. his dominant hand then slipped under your chin, tilting your head so he could kiss you.

steve rogers was a passionate kisser. he was hungry, taking possession of your mouth and exploring you with his tongue. he found the back of your neck and stroked it as he pulled back to speak.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you like smoochin' me," steve teased, drinking in your kiss-swollen lips and dazed eyes.

"oh, quit gloating and get to work," you fired back. a splash of magic escaped you and pink wisps guided his fingers toward your heat.

"since when do i take orders from you, dove?" steve pulled his hand free of your power and tutted. "the whole point of this exercise is to teach you to respect my authority."

"is that so, captain?" you sang back. "i thought the point was to rail me."

"i'm a talented guy," steve said, planting a kiss on your cheek so his lips were right by your ear. "i can do two things at once."

"then i suggest you get on it, rogers, because right now i don't see a compelling reason to change my behavior."

steve chuckled and captured your lips in another intense kiss. when you parted your lips to let him in, he used the momentary distraction to pick you up and haul you over his shoulder. your dress flipped up, revealing your upper thighs and your ruined panties.

"wha—STEVE! put me down!" you screamed, pounding your fists on his back. with one quick slap to your thinly clothed ass, he shut you up.

"you want a reason?" he said, slapping your ass twice more. "i'll give you 20."

he carried you to the couch, hitting each side of your bottom one more time before he sat down. he bent you over his knee, holding you down with his free hand splayed across your back.

"i'll just slip these off so i can see you, babygirl," he cooed as he dragged your panties down your legs. when he saw the large wet spot on your underwear, he laughed in triumph. "look at that. nice and wet for your captain, hm?"

steve gave you no warning before he resumed his punishment, landing slaps on every inch of your backside quickly and randomly. after what felt like hours of this punishment, you were delirious and helpless in his arms. or so you both thought.

he turned you over on his lap, hiking your dress up your legs again for access. when he forced your legs apart and moved his hand toward your mound, you braced for relief. instead you watched in horror as he drew back his hand, winding up for a slap right to your pussy. you flinched hard and shut your eyes.

when the spank never came, you opened your eyes to find steve's hand hovering in midair, its path interrupted by the electric fog of your magic.

"still resisting me, little bird?" steve raised an eyebrow at you, unfazed. then he started to push against the energy barrier. your involuntary magical defenses disintegrated under the pressure of his hand. he wore a cocky grin as your power fell away, leaving you defenseless.

you wanted to keep up the bratty act because the dynamic was fun for both of you. but in failing to protect yourself from his punishing hand, you had shown your cards. he knew how much you needed this, how powerless you were against the craving for your superior.

"betrayed by your subconscious," steve found humor in the situation even while you trembled beneath him. mercifully, he gave up on spanking you in favor of teasing your folds. you mewled at the first swipe of his fingers through your heat. "don't worry, i know you could still kick my super ass if you wanted to. but you won't, will you?"

"no..." you whimpered as his fingers sought out your clit, hovering over it and stroking around it to work you up. "wanna be good, captain, please."

"that's all i ever wanted to hear," steve said with a giddy smile. satisfied that he'd corrected your attitude, he gave in and rubbed your clit in earnest. "there's my good girl. i always knew you were in there somewhere."

"oh my god, yes," you breathed as he buried a finger inside you. he explored your walls with gentle thrusts, almost too gentle. you wiggled impatiently in his lap, creating friction on his bulge which was pressing into your side.

"careful," steve hissed. "you may be a super scary witch, but my cock would still split you open without some prep. you gotta be patient. can you do that for me?"

you whined but agreed to his terms. as a reward, he added a second finger. you could feel yourself stretching to accommodate his thick digits. sensing the resistance, steve searched for something to distract you—literally. he probed along your walls like a man on a mission, grinning when you cried out.

"gotcha," he murmured, almost to himself. your pussy fluttered and clenched wildly around him. "that's it, sugar, keep squeezing my fingers just like that. can't wait to be inside you, sweets."

steve's next move was calculated; he was a strategist, after all. as he worked in a third finger, he traced his thumb up to your clit, rubbing it harshly in time with his thrusts. you were a goner as soon as you felt three huge fingers stretching you out and doting on your g-spot.

"oh, princess, i know it feels so good. it's okay, you're doing so good, yes, my good girl, coming on your captain's lap like this," steve coaxed you through your orgasm with sweet nothings.

before you even had time to recover, steve swept you up bridal-style and carried you to the bedroom. "what happened to being patient?" you quipped as he put you down on the bed and unbuckled his belt.

"i haven't wanted someone the way i want you in 70 years," he responded, practically jumping out of his clothes to get to you. now fully nude, steve's cock bobbed between his legs, twitching and weeping precum. "forgive me if i'm in a hurry now that i finally have you."

his words rolled over you like a warm blanket, shielding you from all fear and uncertainty. steve climbed on top of you and rid you of your dress, the last item of clothing hiding your body from his hungry eyes.

"so beautiful, baby bird," steve marveled at your tits as he kneaded them, groaning out loud at their softness. you writhed underneath him, desperate to feel all of him. "ready?"

at your affirmative nod, steve pushed his hips forward and notched his mushroom tip inside your entrance. you sucked in a breath through your teeth at the intrusion. "oh steve, you're so —" you held your breath as he fed you another inch, "big! too big..."

"i know, lovebug, i'm sorry. i'm right here with you." steve cooed. he kept his hips still and peppered featherlight kisses all over your face. "you can take it. just open up for me, let me in."

"o-okay..." you whispered, relaxing your body. steve continued. he captured your lips in a greedy kiss, swallowing every moan and whine and mmph! you had to give him. before long, he was seated fully inside you.

"i'm so proud of you," steve pulled away from the kiss to shoot you a lust(love?)-drunk smile. "can i move now? you deserve a reward for being so brave."

"yes, ple—ah!" your reply was cut off with a squeal as he thrust forward at an angle, hitting your sweet spot with ease. he picked up the pace, more at ease knowing you were enjoying yourself. the burn of his cock stretching your walls now felt pleasant, especially when he snuck his fingers down to your bundle of nerves.

"fuck, angel, i'm not gonna last," steve panted, his dick driving into you even faster. "you're so tight, chokin' me... come with me. let go for me, love."

as he spoke, his fingers went into overdrive on your clit. this, combined with the near-intolerable feeling of fullness, sent you over the edge. you felt yourself clench and spasm around him, triggering steve's release. he came with a shout, rope after rope of hot liquid coating your walls.

in your warm post-orgasmic haze, you felt like you were floating. then steve pried himself away from you and off the bed.

"where are you going?" you asked shyly.

"to get a washcloth. you don't have to be afraid, little bird. i'm gonna take care of you."

you smiled to yourself and closed your eyes again, knowing his words to be true.

[sissy-salon]

I have the distinct suspicion that this sissy caption-maker is secretly a trans woman trying to crack eggs in the sissy community: https://www.tumblr.com/georginared

Pretty much all the captions are gender-affirming positive messages framed like they should be force femme but strangely aren't. Like, most have a message on the order of "Feel good about your feminine body! Wear female clothes you like to wear! Release the woman within!" A number of them reference a girl in the mirror, representing the girl you want to be, which is a common transfemme way of expressing a hidden feminine gender identity as an alternate self. Even one that you'd think would be about male domination comes down to "Find a supportive boyfriend". They're wholesome trans-positive messages and are framed like they shouldn't be.

[hoony2k]

Is jake here?

Shakespeare says "tis was written in the stars before they even met"

-You're lost in life and move to Seoul where you find your peace in a boy. Jake's in a band and is looking for a girl he's been obsessed with ever since she appeared in his dream. You're both broken but maybe you can learn to be better through each other.

Pairing: Sim Jaeyun x reader

Genre: scott pilgrim au!, band au!, set in 2000s, he's kinda silly.

Cast: Sunghoon, jay, sumin (stayc)

Warning: reader smokes once :(

Word Count: 2k

Notes: this is for neo127's event! this was genuinely so fun to write, thank you for the fun event! this is actually a deleted scene that I love sm, i wanted to be so poetic but i had to stop my demons cause this is a movie with tom foolery and deep meaning. also i'm kind of stupid and saved this in drafts and not queue.

masterlist

Take 1

There was a ringing in Jake’s mind that alerted him of the dangers awaiting him, but the allure of your presence removed all prior warnings. You came into his life like a dream, filled the hollow void in his soul. None of his past attempts at experiencing euphoria or reaching infinity worked, but with you around entertaining his unfunny jokes, he was consumed by the black hole in one clean swoop.

In other terms, you were the little riff he needed in the song, the extra healing ability granted to his game characters, you were a dream. The warning, the future and the rest was history. It was only you and him in the whole universe. By your side, Jake finally felt like the world wasn’t against him.

Or so he thought.

Seven little exes, not seven little kisses.

Take 2

Jake forced his body to move. “Left right, left right”, he mumbled and mechanically trudged up the stairs, bumping into drunk partygoers without an apology. He caught a glimpse of you the other day and he prayed the next time you saw him he’d be taller and looked way cooler, not desperate or down bad at all. Hopefully, he’d find the courage to approach you in privacy. It had been ages of simply dreaming about you.

Not even the buzz of the party could get your eyes and nonchalant expression out of Jake’s mind. The thirst to reunite left him dry to the bone and in dire need of the washroom due to pure boredom sparked by the party. His drink sploshed in the red up, spilt over the rim and onto the cuff of his new jacket. He winced at the sticky and cold sensation.

At this point, he was willing to manifest you into appearing.

Jake reached the landing and felt Comeau call out to him. “Wanna drink with us?”

He shook his head and slightly pouted. “No, I don’t drink”.

Comeau frowned at him, “What do you mean you don’t drink?”

Jake offered a non-committed shrug and lightly waved his arm around.

“This is just iced coffee”.

His friend’s frown deepened. “What does that mean? I distinctively remember you being drunk-”

“Hey you know everyone, right?”, Jake swiftly brushed off the memory and swayed Comeau by the compliment. “You know this one girl with hair like this?”

His pout was replaced with a determined look and pulled out crumpled paper with a poorly sketched one-lined drawing of what appeared to be a face with no evident features or expressions. There was no possible way to understand the scribble immediately.

His friend rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I know her. That’s Y/N-“

God was real. The universe loved him and perhaps this was good karma for all the okay things he had done in life. His friend continued to ramble trivia about you but it all flew over Jake’s head until he heard I heard she was going to be here tonight and it brought heat back into his veins. All it took were those mere words to become the catalyst of his insanity.

Jake dove into the crowd, and took in the sight of numerous strangers with unfamiliar hairstyles and smiles. He searched for your dyed hair in the crowd and despite unsteady breathing and shaking hands due to anticipation and nervousness, his gaze met your frame leaning on a wall. Hair pink instead of blue and you were alone holding a cup which served as a friend. You appeared bored out of your mind, glancing at the drunk bodies dancing around in bliss. Jake wondered asking you if you wanted a refill.

He slid on the dirty wallpapered wall and inch close to you. As he felt heat radiate off your body, he took it as a sign to halt. Though he tried to be subtle, his desperation to talk to you poured down his body in a giant tidal wave. Jake turned his honey eyes to your figure, it was party concealed under his locks that covered an eye. You stared right at him.

“Do you like pac man?”, the words stumbled out of his lips before he realised.

What? No-no, that’s not-

You gave him a slight nod then shifted your attention back to the crowd. Uncommitted but it did not discourage him.

He shuffled closer to you; the creases of his oversized jacket bumped into the bag strap on your shoulder. You didn't move away.

Jake cheered internally; this was going well.

Jake took it as a sign to continue. He puffed his chest out. “You know the original name for Pac-Man was Puck-Man. Not because he looks like a hockey puck. But it's Paku Paku. Means flap your mouth."

He planned on offering you a detailed history of the game, a topic that the pair of you apparently shared and enjoyed. That was before you placed your full untouched cup on a table and turned to him.

He hadn't realised you moved to look up at him.

"But they thought people would scratch out the "p" and turn it into an "f" like-"

Jake's voice died in his throat and his eyes blinked at the intensity of your gaze. You stared up at him with calm wisdom, hiding all the secrets in the world in your gaze.

He observed how there was a thin sheen of sweat on your hairline despite the cold season of decay. With so many bodies running, dancing and chatting away, the house was bound to get humid.

Jake could barely hear your voice over the thump thump of his heartbeat. The tips of your hair that clung onto the apples of your cheek moved when you spoke.

You took a step closer to him and whatever confidence he had evaporated. Jake fumbled with the end of his jacket and then promptly shoved his hands inside his pockets.

You did not look displeased at the sight, in fact, nothing changed in your eyes but Jake swore he saw a hint of a small smile. However, his fear and nerves got the best of him.

"I'm going to leave you alone forever now-"

"Wanna get out of here?"

Take 3

The sky was dark again. The winter nights crept up quickly, shunning the sun away but Jake liked it.

He liked how the night sky reminded him of you, the simple serene moments spent either in silence or secrecy.

You brought light into his life. It was dark elsewhere.

He saw a shadow of a figure dressed in several jackets a couple of feet away and only when he walked closer did he realise who it was.

"What are you doing here?", he called out to you, referring to the time.

You quirked up an unamused brow.

"Dude, I was waiting for you."

Immediately Jake felt apologetic. And maybe a bit pathetic that he came late (on time) to the hangout (unofficial official date). Or maybe he felt giddy knowing you didn't show your nervous attitude yet cared deeply enough for him to arrive on time.

"I'm sorry. I thought you assumed you were too cool to arrive on time", he confessed. It was easier with you.

He didn't have to lie about where he went like how he did whenever Sunghoon asked him about his whereabouts or skirt around in conversations where Sumin decided to target him (all for reasons that proved he deserved it).

He didn't need to pretend he was someone better, a moralistic ideal version of himself or someone worse, an edgy rockstar who had a strange code of rules to live by.

With you, Jake could be transparent. All his unpolished edges, raw mistakes and life missteps were seen and never judged.

You were like him and he was like you.

Maybe there was a reason he saw you in his dreams long before. Maybe the two of you were interconnected in a cosmic way. He didn't know.

You looked at him up and down before turning and beginning to walk near the middle of the park.

"Well, you were wrong".

Jake quickly walked beside you and fell into the same rhythm. "Do you wanna get a bite? Or watch a movie? We could get pizza before watching something. We could flip through the records I have at home".

You gently shook your head and Jake couldn't help but pout at your dismissal.

"What's wrong?" He asked, too impatient.

You sighed softly; air comes out in puffs of smoke.

You point at nearby empty swings. The chain was rustic and seems strong enough to carry two adults.

"Follow me", you whispered in the late night. There was no one around. The park was deserted, filled with snow to the brim. The swing seats squeaked when you brushed off the sleeping snow from them.

Jake sniffled, shoved his hands in his pockets once more. He didn't mind the silence until it stretched on for more than a minute, maybe...maybe it was less but Jake hated silence.

"This is nice", he shuffled and lightly kicked his feet off the ground. The metal shrieked and he swayed back and forth.

You nodded and mimicked his actions.

"This is nice".

Jake turned to look at you once more. He noticed how often he'd stare at you only to look away when you caught his gaze. There was something that had been on his mind for days. He tip toed towards the topic.

"So, why'd you come to Seoul?"

Immediately you look down at your shoes, then swing yourself higher than before.

"I wanted a change of scenery. Needed a reset and got a job here so I thought, why not?"

It was an honest reply.

The sound of gravel grabbed his attention, the metal squeaked again and you paused the pendulum to fish out an item from your pocket.

He had to squint in the minimal lighting and Jake had to hold in his surprise as you pulled out a cigarette and lit it easily.

A hand covered your lips and the tip of the cigarette, the small flame decorated the end of your nose and chin in a scarlet hue. Jake stared at you in awe, doe eyes widened.

"You smoke?", he couldn't help it. You did wonders at surprising him each time you met.

You inhaled it slowly and turned from Jake's direction to blow the air. Two fingers toyed with the cigarette.

"On special occasions". Your lips stretched a bit and Jake saw how the gloss shone under the moonlight. God, he was doomed from the start.

He didn't mind the bounce in his voice, he tiled his position and brought his swing next to yours until the metal chains halted him. The scent of slight smoke and your citrus perfume filled his senses.

It felt like he was on stage once more, guitar in his hands, flicking away at the strings with inhuman speed. He felt the high he experienced on stage; the surge of emotions that made him giddy. He tapped his foot unconsciously, imitating the vibrations the band would feel when Sumin hit her drums.

"Is this a special occasion?"

Your eyes hadn't stranded him and his lovesick expression finally pulled a laugh out of you. You were satisfied when you moved to Seoul, but the buds in your stomach began to blossom, Jake made you crave for more than satisfactory.

"I don't know. You tell me", you teased him and Jake's smile got wider. His eyes crinkled adorably and you could see the gums of his teeth with how wide he was smiling.

Then, for a split second, something flashed in his eyes, something serious. It paused your arm mid-way from bringing the cigarette to your lips.

Jake averted his gaze, his dark brown bangs covered his face from view, and you could only see the tip of his tall nose and his red ears. Perhaps from the cold, perhaps from you.

He took a deep breath.

"When I'm around you, I kind of feel like I'm on drugs. Not that I do drugs. Unless you do drugs, in which case I do them all the time."

When he finished, Jake turned to you and the poor swing squeaked once more. His face was determined, shoulders no longer hunched like usual but his eyes wavered, swam across your form to see a hint of disgust or discomfort from you.

You laughed in his face.

"Hey!", Jake shouted and it echoed in the night.

Loud laughter bubbled from your lips, you tried to hide your mouth behind your free hand but Jake quickly grabbed it so he could defend himself. Seeing how delighted you were, your entire body buzzing with giggles, Jake felt himself relax and giggle with you. Though he didn't let go of your arm.

He saw the fallen cigarette on the ground, you probably forgot about it when you began to chuckle. He leaned forward and stepped on it.

When he landed his attention on you, you were more composed but the shaking did not stop. It was a futile attempt at covering your glee, Jake was obsessed, he was probably feeling the L-word (love) as well but he wasn't sure.

Though he understood from all the times he couldn't concentrate in practice and Sunghoon or Jay would have to call his name loudly to pull him out of daydreams of you and back to reality, when Sumin stopped questioning his intentions with you and replaced her usual indifferent glares with mild fascination, Jake knew he felt something more than like for you. He felt like he was hypnotised by your melody, your casual demeanour, overflowing confidence and assured attitude. It sucked him in from the night he dreamt of you.

Jake's hand slithered down from the curve of your elbow and slipped into the warmth of your hand. Your laughter had finally ceased, now replaced with a tender look. Jake smiled like he had never done before. You interlocked your fingers together and squeezed him palm.

It would be okay, the future would be more than okay-probably. He'd still have to go to practice, get yelled at by his sister and then get yelled at other bands when Sunghoon irked them on purpose. Maybe he'd have to eventually confront your seven exes. Nothing about you was simple, everything was too intricate, it was like he had entered a game and had to win all rounds before getting crowned "official boyfriend".

But it was more than okay because Jake knew you were worth it-you liked him and he liked you. There were no mind games, this was the simplest love he had experienced. He couldn’t stop thinking of you and you couldn’t stop ringing his landline. By your side, Jake concluded that even if he wasn’t the strongest, he’d figure out a way and fight the world for you.

Thank you for reading. Please do not edit/translate

[2knightt]

5 things dallas winston hated about you.

—even when you were on his last goddamn nerve, you were still everything to him. is he still everything to you? after all he’s put you through?

-> in no way is this me changing my style nor should this be taken seriously…i’m just bored. and sad. and bored. and i miss my boyfriend. posted on queue!! i’m probably either studying, working on asks + event, or sleeping. either one.

(I.your snarky remarks.)

“did nobody ever teach you how to properly play uno of all games?”

you asked, a chuckle in your voice as you held your one card in hand. dallas glared at you from across your table, holding 12 cards. this was the 5th game you two played. he was never one to accept defeat easily.

“this game is just fuckin’ stupid. n’ you’re a dirty lil’ cheater.” he grumbled, staring down at his all red cards, eyes shifting back to the green 3 that you had placed down. dallas wanted to say more not-so-nice words, but knowing you fully, you’d say something even worse back. he hated that about you. you always said that it was apart of your charm, he always disagreed.

“why would i ever need to cheat when you can’t seem to count?” you snapped back, brows furrowed. you referenced the fact that dallas tried to pick up only 4 when he had to pick up 6, thinking he was slick.

dallas just huffed, picking up another card from the pile before mumbling a small, ‘go.’ there was a tug at the corners of your mouth, causing you to grin a little too hard as you placed down the winning card. for the 5th time in a row. dallas threw his cards down, clicking his tongue in annoyance. he leaned back into the chair, his head turned away from you as his arms hung off the chair.

“stop bein’ a baby and help me clean this up.”

“no. it’s your house.”

“and you’re the one who’s bumming around in it. clean up with me before i let you walk those streets. again.”

(II.how important your looks were to you.)

you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, fingers running through your hair as you starred at yourself in the window of a convenience store.

“are you serious, y/n?” he asked, pockets in hand. he stopped walking when you did. he said it was so nobody hit on you. in reality, he liked it better when he had his eyes on you 24/7. he likes knowing you were safe. even for a second.

“yes, dallas. i am.” you replied with an eye roll. you grabbed your pink lip gloss, re-applying it for the 4th time today. sure, you were willing to admit it slowed you down—your focus on your looks. but were you gonna change? no! if someone doesn’t like it, who cares?

once you were done, you continued walking, leaving dallas to rush to catch up. he walked beside you after speed walking behind you for a few seconds. your lips shined under the hot tulsa sun, eyes glowing along with them. dally couldn’t help but wrap an arm around your waist.

he grew more and more aware of the men around. he held you closer, even when they paid no mind to neither you or him. he felt almost threatened for a moment.

“are you even listening?”

you chimed in, breaking his train of thought. dallas nodded, head empty. he didn’t hear a single thing you said. was he going to admit it? no. he didn’t want these other guys to know about how terrible of a boyfriend he was.

you just hummed, walking to your house in silence. any insults, compliments, comments, or cries would fall to deaf ears as of now.

(III.how you were blindly loyal.)

“i cannot believe you right now.”

“i jus’ said she was pretty. god forbid.”

he muttered as he entered your car, sitting in the passenger seat. dallas knew it’d be a terrible idea to try and make you jealous. boundaries, you’d shout. boundaries!

“i’ve told you how many times on how uncomfortable that makes me.”

“m’sorry, doll. i…i know. it was the alcohol.”

dallas lied right through his teeth. in all honesty—he’d been hoping it’d make you want to show him off. he was stupid for ever thinking you’d so something like that.

your silence scared him. you usually would’ve spat something back at him without a single thought. a sigh left your lips as you started the car, finally speaking up.

“i know.”

you muttered quietly. goddamn, maybe loyalty was gonna be the death of you. he didn’t mind much, though. at least you knew where home was. with him…right? right, y/n? he wanted to ask over and over again. dallas wanted the reassurance. he needed the support.

for what? he didn’t know. he just wanted to make sure you still felt the same way he does.

(IV.the way you fought.)

“she got you good, y/n.”

“oh, shut up, dal.”

you muttered, washing your bloodied and bruised hands under the faucet. you stood there, spacing out, letting the water run off your hands. dallas tapped you on your shoulder, snapping you out of it.

he handed you a clean shirt, a couple of bandaids in the other. you ushered him out of your bathroom, closing the door to put the clean shirt on. ‘she got you good.’ what does that even mean? was there seriously no, ‘are you okay?’ you wondered to yourself as you opened the door.

dallas sat you down on the toilet, brushing the fresh blood that slowly streamed down your cheeks with his thumb as he placed bandaids all over your face. he kissed every single one after doing so.

he wanted to make sure you still knew he likes you. that dallas winston liked you a whole lot.

“you’ll be alright, doll.” he comforted, patting your head. he thought back to your several other fights. you fought strategically and with honour. something he’d never do. but, recently, you’d been fighting just for the fun of it.

when you fought before—he felt a little angry. he didn’t like seeing you fight, but he didn’t like knowing you were good at it. knowing you were at the same level as he was at something he took pride in hurt him. dallas was frustrated at you and himself.

maybe his bad habits were rubbing off on you. a way to remember him, as dallas thought about it. he said he’d talk to you later about it. he never did.

(V.how quickly you were able to move on. faster than he ever could.)

you realized you needed better. dallas didn’t treat you like he used to. why? you didn’t know. you tried to be the best girlfriend he’d ever have, so why did he have to ruin it? was it your fault?

you kept on asking yourself questions like this when the reality of it all sunk in. that same day, you left dallas winston.

he felt his world crumble before him. this whole, self-sabotaging thing that pony warned him about was catching up to him. dallas felt hatred for you. well, at least he wanted to. he wanted to feel angry. hatred for you.

he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. even when he watched you move onto another guy. from afar, he’d see you giggle and flirt with him. like how you used to do with him.

even when you’re with someone else, you’re still everything ti dallas. would you ever forgive him if he said sorry? would sorry even fix the way he treated you?

[fl3shm4id3n]

Cₕᵢcₖ Fₗᵢcₖₛ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬. 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞, 𝐡𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ɴᴇɪʟ ʟᴇᴡɪꜱ x ꜰᴇᴍ! 'ʙɪᴍʙᴏ'! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Not really, except talks about horror movie gore.

Masterlist

Neil still remembers it as if it were yesterday. That you had come into the store with your friends, to pick out a couple movies. For, what he assumed to be for a sleepover or something that girls did as a group. He remembered how at the check out you had got Legally Blonde, The Devil Wears Prada, Uptown Girls and the most famous movie that all chicks like Mean Girls. At first he thought that having chick flicks were dumb, but his old friend, Lucien had convinced him that he should. Since chick flicks were a magnet that attracted hot chicks. As much as Neil didn't want to admit it, he was right. It did bring in hot chicks into store. One chick in particular being you.

Ever since you've came into the store, you'd always come by every now and then, to rent out the same tapes. He didn't mind at all, he just liked seen you coming in. Even if it was just to browse around or say Hi to him, he didn't mind. Long story short, he got a crush on you. Believe it or not, but you were his dream girl. His Pixie Dream Girl, in some way. During your short interactions, he caught on how nice you were. His whole life, or at least up until high school, the popular and pretty girls were flat out mean girls who were shallow and only care about their looks and what hot guy they were dating. You? You were different, you were not like other girls, in his book. You seemed genuinely a nice person. Due to how you talked to him, always smiling and in a good mood.

That evening, the shop felt slow, no one or anyone barely came in. It was boring, Neil was dying of boredom. He thought about killing some time by going over some of the return tapes and putting them back. Before he could do that, the door of the shop opened. When he turned to see who it was, he nearly walked into a rack of tapes. It was you. Did his day get better or was this just a coincidence? You gave a small smile and wave. He did the same, but his face turned a slight shade of red, then you proceeded to look around.

As he was 'going' through the box of tapes, he couldn't help but look up and glance at you every now and then. He took notice that you wore that red juicy couture tracksuit with a pair of black heighted sandals. You seem to love that outfit a lot, he's seen you wearing that track suit every time that you come to the store. Either that one, or a pink one. They looked very good on you, in his opinion. He always wondered if you were a juicy couture model of some kind, it would suit you perfectly. After you did your browsing, around the usual section, you headed to the counter. That was his queue to go check you out.

"Hey Neil." You said, smiling at him while you your wallet from your hand bag. "Hey y/n" He said, with almost shy smile. "The usual?" He asked, while looking at both the Legally Blonde and Mean Girls tapes. "Yeah, kind of." You said, with a chuckle while getting your membership card. As he continued the process, it got quiet. While he counted the tapes, he noticed a third one. He thought that it was going to probably be The Devil Wears Prada or Uptown Girls or even Juno, but instead, it was a whole different tape he wasn't expecting you to get a hold of. Cavin Fever. He was in shock, he never thought you, of all people would be into that kind of movies. All that gross gore and stuff made him squeamish, almost sick if you ask him. Then he couldn't help but ask. "You actually watch this?" He asked, while holding the tape. With a shocked expression on his face. "Oh, yeah." You responded with a shy giggle. "Wow, I never thought that- You'd be, ya know. Into that stuff." He admitted. You just shrugged your shoulder. "Meh, even I'm surprised on why I like it. I don't know how to explain it though. I just... Like, gross gore. If you can call it that." You explained, earning a chuckle from both you and Neil.

"Oh, I do kind of like those weird, crazy Japanese movies." You told him. "Oh, you do?" Neil asked. "Yeah, my favorites are Suicide Club, Audition, Battle Royale, and Uzumaki." You listed. Neil nodded, still a bit shocked that you liked other movies besides your usual pick. "I've honestly, never seen any of them." You gasped. "You haven't?" You asked, while Neil shakes his head while chuckling by your cute reaction. "You are missing out, I mean. Unless you're into crazy ass movies." You said, while chuckling. Neil couldn't help but also chuckle. Then you got an idea. "I mean... Depends" That's all he could answer, he let out a shy chuckle and his face turn nearly red. This has been the first time he's ever talked to you, longer than usual.

Then you decided to ask him a question. "You free by any chance this week?" You asked, that question made Neil stop what he was doing, just to process what you had asked. "I'm sorry could you repeat that?" He asked, getting a nervous smile on his face. "Are you free this week? Unless you're busy I understand." You said, but he quickly answered. "NO- I mean." He paused, trying to form a sentence, but he almost couldn't. "Yes, I'm free Friday night." He managed to say. You couldn't help but smile. "Oh cool! I was wondering, if you wanted to, like." You let out a small chuckle. "Wanted to come over to my house to, watch a movie? No chick flicks or any gross gore if you like. You can pick something out, surprise me." You said.

Was he dreaming? He had to be dreaming. If only he could pinch himself. "Y-Yeah, sounds good." He responded, with a shy laugh. "Cool!" You said, very excitedly. "Hold on." You said, while taking out a small pink piece of paper from your handbag along with a pink glittered pen. You wrote something down in the paper and then handed it to him. "Here's my phone number, you can call or text me, I prefer texting. Whenever." You said, while handing him the small note. Neil, nervously, but calmly. Took the pink paper. He felt how his thumb gently caressed yours. Making him slightly shiver with pure excitement. "Thank you." He said, with a wide smile.

After you finished your purchase, you left. Almost in a hurry. Neil just stood there in the counter. With complete utter shock and disbelief. Then his good old friend Lucien approached the counter. "What's up with you?" He asked him, then he noticed a pink sheet of paper in his hand. "I got her number." Neil said. "What, no way." Lucien said. Then Neil nearly shoved the pink paper at his face. Conforming that he did indeed get your number. "No fucking way." Lucien said in disbelief. "And we're going on a date... on Friday." Neil finished. Making Lucien look even more shocked. That his friend Neil, is going on a date with a hot chick. "See?! You see!? What did I tell you! That's what happens when you have Chick Flicks in the store." He nearly shouted all over the store. "We should order more of those, maybe I might even get lucky." Lucien Joked. Neil was still in shock, busy looking at the glittery numbers written on the small piece of paper. He was never going to throw that piece of paper again.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[writing-house-of-m]

Falling for you

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha is in love with you and decides to tell you

A/N: I was so impressed with myself when I came up with the title lol The request can be found here. Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!

Prompt: "Oh, I'm falling in love."

"It was when I saw you giving flowers to Wanda once. I saw the gesture and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The way you looked at her. I wanted someone to look at me like that. I learned afterwards not 'someone,' I wanted you to look at me like that.

"It was as if my mind held up a queue card telling me how I felt about you. I realised, 'Oh, I'm falling in love,' but the more I thought about it the more I realised I've been in love with you for a while and I didn't know what to do."

Natasha started speaking after you made a joke about her playing hide and seek. Nobody knew where she was when you noticed her missing for a while and got curious where she might have been. She was looking out at the view motionless before you got there for you don't know how long.

You regret making your joke.

"I don't even know why I'm telling you all this. Maybe because I'm sick of holding it all in.

"In the red room it was always 'love is just something used to brainwash childish minds', 'A chemical reaction, nothing more' and for the longest time I agreed. I have never experienced it before and didn't think I ever would…

"Until you."

She looks at you emotionally. It's the most vulnerable you have seen her. The 'Black Widow' on the verge of tears because of you,

"Natasha,"

And there is nothing you can say to make her feel better.

"I do love you, just not in the same way. I'm really sorry," you see in the way Natasha drops her head, the devastation she is feeling, "but my heart will always belong to Wanda."

She lets out a sad laugh, looking out at the setting sun in the horizon, orange and pink painting the sky, "Figures," she scoffs, "the person I fall for, already taken," she says, sniffling.

There are a few moments of tense silence before you decide to break it, in hopes to lighten the mood a little, "Well, if it's any consolation Wanda aspires to have your 'hot bod'," you jest, then raise your hands and eyebrows innocently, "her words, not mine."

It does make her laugh but shortly after, silence prevails and you both bask in it. You stay there in each others presence long after darkness takes over and white dots fill the night sky.

…

Shortly after your conversation on the roof you move out of the compound. It was something you and Wanda had been discussing anyway but you thought it would be easier for Natasha if you weren't there. To you it would have felt like you were rubbing your relationship in her face after her confession. But for Natasha, she missed seeing you everyday.

As always life continues, work takes over. Your time together is reduced to when you are assigned to the same missions. Natasha realises quickly her feelings for you will never falter. So she makes the most of the time she gets with you.

It doesn't take long for that to be taken from her as well.

…

Natasha felt your presence missing from this world. Prior to everything that happened, you hadn't been at the compound for the longest time but at least she knew you were out there and happy. But now? There was a gaping hole in the shape of you that was missing and it was unfair for everyone, not just herself.

It is why she makes the decision to go to Vormir.

The world is better with you in it.

Even if she won't be here to witness it.

As she is falling to her demise, the sound of wind rushing past her ears she closes her eyes to see your smiling face.

The memory of you stood on the rooftop trying to make her laugh. The picture can be compared to a piece of artwork with the way the warm setting sunlight hits off your skin and makes your eyes shine.

Natasha is glad to have such a picturesque image of you in her final seconds that she can find comfort in behind her eyelids.

Despite the cold climate and the circumstances her body is filled with warmth knowing she is the reason there is the possibility to bring you back. At least then you will have a chance at starting that family you and Wanda announced.

As that final image slips away along with her consciousness, Natasha thinks about the fact that even though she could never have you. You always had her.

[tb3ih]

KISSES LIKE SATIN, childe/reader.

SYNOPSIS... pearls unlaced and strewn about the floor, fabrics newly discarded on the furniture, oh how you love the burn when TARTAGLIA sinks his inscisors into your skin, breaking it open and letting constellations spill in (He is the Sun, but you were born of the Moon).

⋆ warnings, model!tartaglia & fashion designer!reader, enemies to lovers, hardcore workplace & BANDAGING WOUNDS tension, fluff and a bit a LOT of spice, influenced heavily by the Goddess Herself, lana del rey (this is entirely self-indulgent), also mentions of previous relationship trauma, but it's non-specific!

⋆ notes, exploration of romance in-between luxury brands and lavish living, also coping with the fact that i've been enamored by yet ANOTHER boy who might just be the death of me. accompanied by bad for business by sabrina carpenter.

⋆ tags! @yakshahs @xngelholix @rinoomi @rainsoughtflowers @14shroud

"YOU'RE absolutely ridiculous!" there is no budge in your expression, pure frustration and borderline hostility apparent in your eyes as you examine the ginger before you. grin just teasing lazy and eyebrows raised in non-chalance, TARTAGLIA was lucky he was the face of this brand, otherwise you're absolutely sure you would've given him a nasty right hook about now.

the time on your watch read 10:34 am, approximately and entire hour and twenty-four minutes past the scheduled time for the photoshoot. hair roussed and button up mussed, the model had sauntered into the backstage room looking like he'd just wandered out of another girl's bed and remembered he had some kind of commitment today.

it was the annual teyvat fashion convention. only one of the biggest in all of the nations.

which, again, was just another agenda item.

"awh, miss l/n, don't be so harsh, i overslept, honest!" you ignore the skip of your heart when the corner of his lips curls into a boysih grin, eyes only narrowing as his eyes seem to peek into your soul.

damn him.

"illya!" a taller blonde appears next to him, black clipboard tucked into her arm, her attention shifting to show disdain at the sight of your brand's top model before settling back to you. "when was mr. tartaglia supposed to arrive?"

she doesn't miss a beat. "8:45 am, miss y/n."

"and when was he to take to the runway?" your eyes narrow at the ginger who's smile doesn't waver.

"9:00 am, sharp, miss y/n," she replies curtly, checking her clipboard.

"ah," you hum, chuckling humorlessly. "how many pieces do we have left?"

"twenty-seven designs in queue, miss y/n."

"how many are his? fifteen?" you turn, stopping a model to adjust the styling of his scarf before dismissing him. "get me an expresso, make it triple, illya. and please, direct mr. tartaglia out of my sight and to his dressing room. he better be on that runway in four minutes or i swear to the archons i will level this entire show."

it's tartaglia who speaks this time, offering a slight bend at the waist to tip you his imaginary hat, "as the princess commands."

you turn curtly to leave before he can see the pink that lightly dusts your complexion at the nickname.

"LOSE the chain." your eyes examine the piece with extra scrutiny, narrowing at the culprit which seems to be disassembling the entire outfit. scowl at how well tartaglia wears it, the long slacks making him appear more intimidating. the low cut v-neck stops just above his abdomen, teasing you with a peek of what you suppose to be his sculpted chest...

tartaglia clears his throat, the shade of blue in his eyes shifting when they catch yours, the curl of his lips telling you he didn't miss a beat of you admiring him. but you reveal nothing, lifting your chin before circling him once. "pearls and black iron chain."

someone hands you both and you approach him, bringing both up to his collar to compare it in the light. you hate to admit that he's one of your most valuable models, the combination of his hair and eyes and his demeanor as a model being the reason you sell out at just hours after ever show.

those damn eyes.

you hold the black chain out drop it into an assistant dresser's hands, focusing on latching the pearls around his neck. one final once-over and you're now positive on the look. "he's good, now get him in line to walk, i want him behind diluc."

you move to adjust his belt, styling it to hang loosely where his shirt tuck breaks. "you know, if you wanted to look at me, you should've just asked." his voice is low enough that it catches no one else's attention.

you scoff, "please, i'm sure you've got supermodels lined up down the block just to get a glimpse of you on the catwalk." when you look up, he's looking down at you, head turned to watch you fix his belt and the back of slacks. your fingers are featherlight so as not to make more contact than necessary. "i have enough model photos and issues to last me a lifetime, but i appreciate the kind offer."

you ignore the small curve of his mouth as he smiles at you amusedly and you dismiss the fluttering feeling in your stomach. "well, i'm not sure any these apparent supermodels bites back as cruelly as you," he replies lowly.

you cough at the comment, eyes narrowing up at his and taking a curt step back from him. you can still smell his cologne from where you stand and you wave a hand at a fashion assistant to signal you're done looking him over. "just do your job."

"sweetheart, i wouldn't dream of anything else." he's caught up to the other models before you can bite back a reply. and you shake an odd feeling from your head.

the caffine's probably the reason your heart's pounding.

YOU'RE pinning a ruby onto a shirt collar when you hear the knock on your hotel door room. the living room of the suite is where you've set up all your upcoming designs, sketches and fabrics strewn about in a collective fashion disaster as you try to piece together next season's collection.

sighing, you set the container with the rest of the precious gems down on a nearby coffee table before dusting the silk of your pajamas lightly and making your way to the door.

you scowl, opening the door to reveal a tall, wavering, ginger, blue eyes softening just a bit when they meet yours. "hi uhm, is now a bad time?"

you're about to say something spiteful when you notice the wrinkles in his collar don't look like they'd been made out of good intent. the knuckles of his hand are red and there's red smeared in splotches on his shirt. you look around the hallway behind him, ushering him in quickly so as not to let anyone see the disheaveled model.

"now before you say anything—"

"ajax, it is 1:43 in the morning, just what the archons are you doing outside of my suite?!" your voice is sharp in tone, but not loud enough to be heard from another room. something in his eyes catches you off-guard and his lips pull into a full smile, boyish and wide. "now is not—what? is something funny?"

his voice comes out a little breathless, as if he'd seen a shooting star. "no you... you said my name..."

oh.

"don't i always?" your voice is a little quieter and the room doesn't seem as big anymore.

"well... it's just..." he flexes his hand and you watch him wince, if only for a second and you remember why he's here.

"i'll meet you in the bathroom," you say, offering no question before moving to the bedroom to look for the healing kit. when you walk back in to the bathroom, he's already taken the liberty of attempting to wash out the blood stains in his shirt.

"you won't get the stains out with water, it has to be professionally cleaned," you comment, watching his broad shoulders turn to face you where you stand in the door way. "zhongli's going to throw a fit when he hears you've ruined something imported from liyue."

tartaglia laughs a little softly to himself, the sound causing your heart to pick up it's pace just a little. "ah well, i suppose i've got a habit for ruining things, huh?"

when you meet his eyes, they hold none of the confident charm you're used to, nothing teasing about the way his lips seem to curl in apology deeper than just the ruined button-up.

you try to wave off the feeling, motioning for him to forget the shirt and relax against the marble countertop. "we need better shirts anyway, it's from two collections ago."

holding out your hand, he rests his hand in yours, allowing you to examine the wounds on his knuckles. "you'd feel better if you saw the other guy," he says quietly. when you look up at him, his eyes are on you.

you clear your throat, "well, i don't feel good at all, you have a jewelry showcase tomorrow and i can't have you looking like this." you take a towel and wet it with warm water, carefully dabbing at his knuckles. "what happened?"

tartaglia swallows, voice quiet when he replies. "i saw kaeya at the bar."

your movements pause, eyes blinking quickly to clear the sudden rush of memories. "ah."

it's quiet other than the sound of a clock ticking quietly in the other room as you continue to clean away his hands.

"i know what he did to you." he sucks in a sharp breath, "and i, truly, am sorry. i wish there was something..." something in those azure hues shifts and you know he truly means what he's saying. there's a faint whiff of dandelion wine on his breath and you have to restrain yourself from saying anything that you'll regret.

your laugh is a little too dry, too soft. "well, it's in the past now, right?" you set down the dirty cloth and pick up the healing ointment. "there's nothing to get so angry about, now is there?"

he's quiet and you know he's focused on you handling his knuckles. you reach for the bandages, but he's already got them in his other hand to give them to you. your "thank you" is barely above a whisper.

"you're so gentle," he starts, making you pause to look up at him. there is a small upturn of his lips and you have to suck in sharply to remember to breathe. the look is so genuine, so raw, and you're not sure what to do with the erruption of butterflies in your stomach. his skin is radiating heat and you need to get away before you get burned.

you push away from him, steadying yourself against nothing. "i can't do this, not with you, not right now."

he's bad for business. but he's close you could just reach out—

his complexion is marred with confusion, eyes falling on the distance now between the two of you. "y/n..."

"why?" you choke out the word, years of memories bubbling up in the back of your throat. fashion deisgn school, late nights spent out in the cities, even the ocean breeze between tangled sheets. "what do you want?"

"it's not... i'm not..." the ginger is searching your eyes, struggling to piece together some reply to your reaction. "i'm sorry—"

"stop saying that," you plead, pain building in the corners of your eyes. "you don't even know what you're apologizing for."

he lets out a frustrated breath of air, running is unscathed hand through his hair. "but that's exactly the thing, i do. i know exactly what i'm apologizing for." his expression is determined, gaze set on you in the middle of the bathroom now. "i never should have left you like that."

you blink hard and fast, memories threatening to spill down your cheeks in hot, salty trails. you remmeber that cold, posessive hand on your waist, the spiked dandelion wine, those azure locks while you were taken to places you'd only read about in the tabloids. "you didn't do anything, ajax, please—"

"that's exactly my point!" something in his voice is breaking, but so is something in your chest. "archons, y/n, i've known you since we were kids, i was there, when you first moved to the neighborhood, when we graduated secondary school, even the first day day you came to advanced design class, i. was. there."

his chest heaves a little as he tries to catch his breath. "i watched that asshole tear you apart and didn't move an inch to try and piece you back together." tartaglia pushes lightly off the counter, only inching just a bit cloaser to you so as not to startle you.

you only have a few feet before you hit the other wall.

"every day for the past near decade of my career, the only thing you have done is stress me out and test my pateince," you reply, this time with something hot bubbling in the back of your throat. nothing is making sense anymore. "why? why do you insist on making my life so hard?"

all the backstage mischief, the tardy appearances to fanshion shows, even the silly misdemeanors at afterparties. there was no end to how much this boy provoked in you, good and bad.

"y/n..." he's closer now, the look in his bright blue eyes never letting you look away from his. you're backing up subconsciously, praying the room might magically expand at your approach. "i'm still that dumb, immature, ten-year-old boy who fell in love with you on the playground. you couldn't even acknowledge me in the room after what kaeya had done to you because we were friends. i thought maybe..."

his voice trails off and you watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows, the next words seeming to crash into you as deeply as his gaze.

"even if it was with contempt, at least you were looking at me."

the reminder of the wall brings you to look up at him. he's closed in on you and you're not sure you even want to escape. you were supposed to hate him.

"why are you telling me this?" you feel as if you're heart's about to burst and he's so dangerously close.

his hands are so gentle when they hold your face, directing your eyes to meet his. "because if i don't tell you now, i'm not sure i ever will." his thumb strokes gently at your cheek. "after today, i thought you might fire me for my behavior so figured now's a better time than ever."

his smile is so full when he speaks, that same boyish charm, only in a different light. "i am so wholy, and genuinely in love with you, y/n."

you're definitely sure he can hear your heart pounding in your chest. the tears you'd been trying so hard to hold have begun to spill down your cheeks, dusting your complexion with a light tint of rose as his confession sinks in. his hands wipe them away gently, the warmth radiating off of him comforting and coaxing you as you cry.

"so please, sweeheart," he whispers, "don't push me away anymore."

the breath of a distance between you two is a question, one that your head and heart seem to both agree on answering. you breathe out an "okay," and it's a split second before planets seem to collide.

his lips are softer than velvet on yours, gentle and patient as he lets the worries weighing your heart spill from your closed eyes. tartaglia does not wipe them from your cheeks this time, his hands having moved to secure a hold around your waist. your hands find his hair, slipping through the soft locks like cashmere.

your name escapes his lips in a low groan when you tug a little and you find yourself smiling a little against him. he is so terribly close to you that you can feel his warmth blooming between your ribs, spreading throughout your limbs and soothing aches you never knew you had.

such a sweet boy to heal something he didn't break.

© tb3ih mmxxiii all rights reserved.