#so the car ride happens first and after that must be the talk?

[booasaur]

Special Ops: Lioness - 1x07

[sturnsdoll]

NAUGHTY OR NICE ❄ -m.s, c.s (part 2)

part one here summary: your boyfriend matt deals with you after finding his brother fingering you in the restaurant bathroom.

warnings: unprotected sex, cheating, slight choking, shower sex, use of baby and sweetheart. "pink" + reader speaking, "blue" = matt speaking.

the car ride home was filled with you trying to explain to your boyfriend how you'd ended up with his brother fingering you in the bathroom. although matt had set it all up, he obviously still didn't enjoy the thought of it.

he'd said nothing really for most of the drive back to your house, just telling you he didn't really wanna hear it. it felt like hours but after what was probably the most confusing and frustrating drive of your life, the two of you were finally at your house.

still in the midst of his mix of emotions, matt opened the passenger side door for you to get out. you couldn't really gauge his emotions towards you at all right now, it had you fumbling your keys like an idiot when trying to unlock the front door.

with an irritated sigh, matt ended up taking them from you and doing it himself. instantly after his shoes were taken off and stomped of the snow on the bottoms of them, he headed up to your room without another word.

you hurried to get your outside attire off and get upstairs. he had to talk at some point right? did you ruin the relatiosnship? why'd he set you up like that?

the minute you entered your room you opened your mouth to apologize to matt but he instantly spoke over you "wanna take a shower with me sweetheart?" his voice was off puttingly soft, followed by a tilt of his head as he looked you over.

you felt incaptivated by the christmas lights in the corner of your room shining off his eyes as he gave you a sweet puppy-like look. you took longer than usual to respond, feeling dumbfounded. of course you were just happy he still wanted to do something so sweet and intimate with you, he must not be that mad right?

with a hesitant nod you headed off to the bathroom with your boyfriend. shutting the door, you both stripped yourselves of your clothes and matt began running the water. you were the first one to get inside the shower, the glass of the door already fogged up.

he slipped inside the shower now too, your body's lightly grazing at the closeness of the enclosed space. the water streaming down your hair and back was warm but nothing compared to the warmth you felt when matt's hand came to your side, gently guiding you to turn around, facing away from him.

matt's arms slip around your waist slowly from behind, his mouth finding your neck, softly kissing beneath your ear. instantly relaxation and content filled you, feeling relieved at the sweet gestures, again assuming this means he can't be too angry. however it was short lived as soon as he opened his mouth. "were his hands better than mine?" matt's voice is soft and low in your ear. one of his hands slide up over your stomach slowly as he speaks.

your stomach drops a little as you realize he clearly hadn't brought you in here to just wash off. the water, his touch and the reminder of chris being knuckles deep in you earlier were all overwhelming. you lick your lips, shaking your head no in response to his question.

"no? why then?" his question confuses you. your eyebrows knit together as you respond "why what?". one of his hands slip down towards your pussy, dancing just above it tauntingly. his other hand continues up your stomach, skipping over your chest. "why'd you let him touch you?" he specifies.

you let out a frustrated sigh. how can you possibly answer that in any other way then the fact that you were beyond sexually in need earlier, matt had been torturing you all night and his brother "just happened" to come in when she was needier than she's ever been.

at your moment of hesitation, matt's slender fingers wrap around your throat, giving a light squeeze to urge an answer. contrary to the rough action, his head dips down and his lips press light kisses to your shoulder. you're about to respond anxious and unsure before you remember, he's the one who set it up. he let chris come in and touch you, so is it really all your fault? "i dunno, why'd you let him touch me?" there's a bit of irratation in your tone.

despite his attempt to stay angry, matt knows your right. you feel his lips spread into a small smile against your shoulder right before his teeth capture the skin there, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. he hears you gasp, making him smirk a little as he takes his mouth off of you and brings it to your ear, placing another kiss beneath it before responding "santas not coming for a cheater" he teases playfully.

"no? well are you cumming for a cheater?..." following your snarky response, your hand slips behind you to find matt's already semi-hard dick. but you can barely graze it before his hand comes off your throat, grabbing your wrist and pinning it behind your back with a bit of force.

you wanna complain but before you can fully form what to say in your head, his middle finger slides through your folds, collecting wetness from both from the water streaming down your bodies and your own arousal. your hips are already squirming for more when his finger slides through your folds again, just barely grazing over your clit each time.

"matt.." your voice is pleading and matt adores it, but he gives no response beside beginning to suck on the skin beneath your ear. you gasp as the slight pain, his teeth sure to leave a mark behind. his finger is still just teasing along your folds, only giving enough pleasure to drive you insane.

with another annoyed sigh you try again "matt-" you're interupted by his hand releasing your wrist, only to slip around your waist again and tug you back against him. your back flush with his chest. "be nice and stop whining. i shouldn't even be touching you after you let my brother do it for me." he reminds you, but still your boyfriend wants to see you feel good. so before you can respond, his middle finger finds your clit, starting with slow and soft circles that make you bring your hand up to grab the arm that's around your waist, feeling like after the night you've had, you could probably crumble from just his voice alone, let alone his touch.

"gotta give y' somethin' he can't now" matt murmurs as he kisses at your cheek, dissapointingly sliding his hand down to your thigh, leaving your clit aching for more his attention back. you aren't dissapointed for long when matt urges your legs apart. luckily his other arm around your waist prevents you from slipping on the water beneath your feet.

you can feel his erection nudging at your thigh now. matt takes his hand off your thigh now and takes his length into his hands, his long fingers that you so desperately wish were in you begin to stroke himself gently. "y' gonna ask me nicely?" matt teases as he tauntingly slides his tip through your folds. just the slight nudge of him along your wet hole and clit have you letting out a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, wishing you could. there isn't a second thought in your head as your hips gently push at the feeling, wishing you could just get him inside of you. though you'd be lying if you said his teasing wasn't frustratingly hot. finally speaking up "please?" your tone is ingenuine, like you just inpatiently want him to get it on with.

matt lets out an amused scoff at your half assed attempt to move things along. "chris make y' forget how to behave?" he asks as he shakes his head. his hand comes beneath your chin, using one finger to tilt your head back onto his shoulder so that you're looking up at him. just when you think he wants you to beg for him again, lips parting to speak, two of his fingers come to your lips, pressing at your mouth for entry "suck." he tells you firmly.

he has this look in his eyes as he looks down at you that can't be described in any other way than dissapointed. you instantly wanna change it, to please your boyfriend. obediently your lips wrap around his fingers. your head tilts further back onto his shoulder, your wet hair pressing against his skin as you eye him pleadingly.

as matt watches you he has to fight off a grin at how willing you seem to please him. he shoved his fingers further back on your tongue, your mouth filled with his two digits as he holds eye contact with you. too occupied by his intense gaze, you don't notice his hips moving until very abruptly his length is pushing inside of you, stretching you out. he slides himself slowly in all the way without stopping, but watching your features still as to make sure not to hurt you in any way.

your hand grips harder at the arm he has around your waist as you gasp around his fingers, eyes fluttering back a little at the sudden fullness. your usually sweet boyfriend taunts you "you know you don't deserve this right?" he says, shaking his head as he presses his fingers further back towards your throat.

your eyes brim with tears the closer his digits come to your throat, whining out a small "mhm" around them in response. matt gives you a very brief look of adoration, a small smile that lets you know his treatment is only because he knows both you and him much prefer this side of him. he needs you to be aware that despite his anger, he's mostly just playing with you.

his hips begin slowly rocking forwards, his tip fucking right up into every spot inside you it needs to. you can't believe how deep he reaches. matt's jaw falls open just a little, the softest whine leaving his lips.

both from the sound of his pretty noise as well as him being inches deep, you lowly whine around his fingers back at him, nails digging into his arm tighter now as your face scrunches up in pleasure. "that feel good?" matt asks with an amused smile as his fingers finally slip from your mouth. you're nearly drooling from having him repetitively and so slowly fill you up. "uh- huh.." you're voice is whinier than you'd like it to have been. matt clearly enjoys it, his eyes admirably flicking over your face.

matt gently interlocks his fingers with yours before your suddenly pushed forwards. both his hands slide to your wrists, pinning you to lean against the glass wall of the shower so your hips are pushed back a little better for him to fuck you.

"maybe that's why you let him touch you." matt mumbles, half talking to himself as he starts fucking into you harder now, picking up just a little speed to his pace. "cause you're so desperate? take whatever y' can get huh sweetheart?" matt's voice is painfully sweet compared to his mean words.

you whine and moan, wrists flexing in slight discomfort under his grip as you let out a breathy "no..". although he can't see your expression to gauge your pleasure, he most definetly feels it in how you're squeezing him so fucking tight.

a soft noise slips his throat again, his hips picking up the pace even more. making sure you're still comfortable, matt's thumbs slowly stroke over your wrists whilst continuing to pin them to the glass of the shower. "no? i'm sure that's not the story chris would tell me." matt sounds a little out of breath as he's also pretty lost in his own pleasure now. the way your voice gets all pitchy as you squeeze around him only feeds his need to make you both cum.

"gonna apologize t' me?" his voice barely registers in your head as his tip repeatedly abuses your cervix. "or are you fucked too dumb to respond?" his hands squeeze your wrists warningly, a bite to his tone. you finally realize he's asked you something but have no clue what. your eyes shut as you try to focus on anything besides how deep he's fucking into you "huh?" the shake to your voice makes him grin a little. "i want an apology for letting my- mmph" his voice is strained, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass is filling the room, along with water streaming "-for letting chris put his fucking hands on you" matt clarifies demandingly, not really asking.

"'m sorry.." it's all you can really think to say. his dick has your mind a haze. unsurprisingly, it isn't good enough. matt switches how he holds you, he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back in one hand as he tugs you up so your back is flush with his chest again, his mouth at your ear. "are you?" he questions as he lifts one of your legs up a little by your thigh so that he can get a better angle inside of your leaking pussy.

your face tilts to the side so you meet his face, your lips are brushing against one anothers "i- uh god- i am baby" your voice is shaky, interupted with small cries of pleasure. matt watches your gaze as you can barely keep it on him, completly in a daze.

"you can do better c'mon." as he urges you on, his breathing becomes more strained. he begins fucking into you slower but harder again. it's a little uneven in pace, he's close. you find it a struggle to compile words into a coherent sentance for him right now "i'm.. i'm sorry for letting chris touch me. i'm really.. fuck.." as you speak, matt can't help but be in awe of how much your struggling with talking to him. he always feels so proud when he can get you to this point, dumb off of him. "i know pretty girl, i know" his grip on you is tightened as his fore head rests down onto your shoulder.

his hips still for a second as you hear matt curse out your name. his warm liquid is being fucked into you before you even know what's happened. the feeling of him cumming inside you is enough to have your thighs begin to tremble, back arching into him in need to finish as well.

matt opts to let go of your leg and bring his hand around to the front of you to toy with your clit instead. "did chris let you cum earlier sweetheart?" matt questions as his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves again and again and again. your hips squirm at the sensitivity, unable to respond as you shake your head no in response. "aw my poor girl." he teases you, his words and touch making a strangled moan come from your lips. he's satisfied with your reaction, his hips still gently fucking into you, very slowly softening as he rides his high out.

his lips land on your ear, voice soft, "y' wanna cum?". you instantly whine out an approving whine at the idea. matt pulls you back by your wrists roughly "i need an answer" matt demands harshly and you desperately nod "yes. yes please matt"

"then go ahead" his thumb instantly speeds up and it's all you need for your body to be pushed over the edge, almost..

really, it was your mind suddenly filling with images you knew shouldn't be there. that's what really sent you over the edge.

memories of earlier, chris's pretty fingers touching you how matt is, and fucking into you as he cradled your head against his chest in such a sweet way. the way he'd left you so needy. the stress of matt's anger towards you had blocked him out of your mind until right now, you almost wish that you could've known what it was like to have chris hold you how he wants you as he uses you, touches you.. uses you how matt does.

shit, right. your boyfriend matt.

you swear you see white as something else white begins dripping down your thighs, you barely process your body shaking, thighs clenching, breathing shaky and uneven as you come down from one of the best orgasms you've had in a long time.

you quickly push away your thoughts, you tell yourself that it's your boyfriend's touch that had made you cum so hard.

matt pulls everything completely off of you before turning you around to face him and placing a long kiss to your lips. "i love you" matt says sweetly as he reaches over to grab the soap, ready for the two of you to actually shower now.

"i love you too." and you mean it you do.. but guilt fills you as somehow find yourself feeling unsatisfied. not because matt didn't do incredible. he always does. but instead, you're unsatisfied because you have this itch now, an itch to know what chris is like beyond just quickly having tried to get you off in the bathroom. you wanna know how he'd treat you in comparison to matt, if he's soft or rough, maybe a little of both. he'd already been so good with his words earlier, fuck. the things he'd probably say to her as he fucked his brothers girlfriend..

it's an itch you'd never scratch of course.

...

or at least you'd like to think you wouldn't.

merry christmas eve/happy holidays !

tagsᥫ᭡: @ikyoudreamofme @riasturns @ifIIwtmfc @iloveragdollcats @sturnzsblog @crocsarethebest @billieslimbo @mattscoatedcock @mattssslutbby @sturnioloslutttt4 @certified-sturniolo @chrisisbadaf @heartsforsturniolo567 @mattsrod @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @fratbrochrisgf @eyelovedher89 @bernardsbendystraws @riversandwinds @ilovemenwithlonghairr @chrissweatytoes @courta13 @2muchofaslvt @emely9274 @billieslimbo @sturnzsblog @iloveragdollcats

[moonstruckme]

HI MAE!!! HAPPY 7k 🩷🩷

can i please do a blueberry muffin from your bake sale??? I always wanted a part two to your drabble for the emt!marauders with a reader who gets vertigo. I still for the comfort of how it'll be the car ride to the hospital with the boys comforting the reader just like int he first part. the drabble ended too soon 🫶🏻

nevertheless, you totally degree this milestone!!!

Thank you lovely!

part 1

cw: severe dizziness, mention of vomiting

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 497 words

You’ve decided not to make any more sounds. Your moaning and groaning was only worrying the boys, and if you can’t control anything else you can control that. Still, as slow as Remus tries to make the next turn, you can’t help your soft intake of air. Your head keeps turning long after the car has straightened out. 

“I know,” Sirius murmurs in reply to your little gasp. His voice is weighed down with sympathy. 

You’ve figured out that the cold of his hands helps, so he keeps pressing them to your forehead, your temples, your neck. On your other side, James is doing his best to keep you from moving with his arm around your shoulders. You’re holding your neck ramrod straight for the same purpose. You can feel the stitching of the seats where your fingers are pressed harshly to them, though in your vision the car is only a smear of gray interior and a deep blue out the windows. You guess by the color that it must be early morning. 

“I’ve got a bag,” James reminds you. “Let me know if you think you need it, yeah?” 

Your answering hum is wobbly. Sirius moves his hands to your cheeks. 

“Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?” Remus asks. You can picture him looking into the rear view mirror, and you and then at the other boys. You wonder what faces they’re making in silent answer. “Can you see at all?” 

“A little bit,” you lie. 

Sirius makes a soft sound, low in his throat. He strokes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Don’t downplay it for us,” he chides, about ten degrees gentler than his usual admonishments. “We can’t help you as well if we don’t know how bad it is, baby.” 

You press your lips together, hard, clamping them between your teeth, but you’re sure your boyfriends can see the tears you’re holding back regardless. James kisses your hair. 

“It’s okay,” he says. “We can talk about all that when we get there, yeah? You’re alright.” 

A quiet whimper slips out of you, two tears blinking out of your eyes one after the other. 

“You are, angel.” James seems desperate to reassure you. Sirius’ hands move to press over your collarbones, firm and grounding. “You’re okay. We’re gonna make it better, my love.” 

“Once we’re there, we’ll try not to move you around hardly at all, dove, alright?” Remus chimes in. “We’ll get you settled and checked out, and the worst thing that can happen is you end up sitting still and waiting this out. No more driving or walking or anything like that until you’re feeling better.” 

“Okay,” you manage to squeak out in reply. 

“Oh, my sweetheart.” James sounds nearly on the brink of tears himself, and you think you feel Sirius reach across you to rub his leg even as they’re both comforting you. 

“I know.” Sirius kisses your temple. “I know, baby. We’ve got you.” 

That, you can believe in.

[sturnlsstuff]

FAMILIAR STRANGER | chapter two

what's gonna happen when you find out about your enemy's biggest secret?

ghostface!chris x enemy!reader

chapter one | chapter three

— warnings; smut with plot, dom!chris, sub!reader, bratty reader, cursing, blood, knife play, mentions of murder - english isn't my first language.

~~~

chris had a million reasons to hate you. starting from the first day you met him and his brothers, and you accidentally spilled his last pepsi. it was a small thing, didn't mean much, but it was enough for chris to know that you would cause him problems. and he was right.

he didn't like many people, he had problems with trusting them and only his close friends knew what he really was like. besides he didn't really need anyone. still, he was popular and everyone loved him, including the girls on campus. you'd always heard them bragging that they were chris's chosen ones for one night. if not them, then someone else they knew. there were only a few girls he didn't touch and you were one of them.

though chris was tolerating your friend emma, she was really kind and respectful, always minding her own business. besides, she made matt happy, what was enough for chris.

you, on the other hand, were her complete opposite. you argue, always say what you think no matter how mean it is, you don't keep it to yourself. it was like riding without brakes, and he really didn't want to be on this ride with you when the car crashes, so he always tried to stay away. even when you started to have a better relationship with his brothers, and started constantly showing up at their house, going shopping with nick or playing hogwarts legacy with matt. even in college, he'd find you randomly in nick's room or in the frat house on the couch with matt and emma. you were everywhere.

and he was always watching you, noticing the way your nose wrinkled cutely when you laughed at something nick would say. or that look you gave him when he said something you didn't like, immediately taking a deep breath, and that's when chris always knew he was screwed. once you start talking, you never shut up.

he knew that for someone who didn't like you so much, the fact that he knew a lot about you was quite...interesting. knowing what he knows, what type of person you were, he couldn't understand why you were with someone as jealous, obsessive and toxic as your ex boyfriend. before this relationship he would never call you stupid, maybe irritating, but smart in some way. however after seeing you with jake, he thought there must be something wrong with you, which made him dislike you even more. how could you not respect yourself like that? this made him believe you have to be dumb.

against his own logic, he was just a guy who liked pretty girls and unfortunately for him, you were one of them. he would never make any move towards you, god, no. but he had eyes and you were indeed attractive. sometimes he wondered what it would be like to feel your body under his or what you would look like sitting on top of him.

he never expected to experience both of these things in a situation like this.

"chris?!" he hears your voice, shock written all over your face.

you are straddling him, blood flowing down your hand where you were clutching his ghostface mask. the thing he has been hiding under for a while now. the last thing he would have expected was that not only would he finally satisfy his deeply hidden fantasy about feeling your body against his in some way, but that you would also find out about his most hidden secret.

he was fucked.

panic overpowers all of his other senses as he looks at you. chris was always able to control everything, but not this. his heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest at any moment. what's worse, despite this awful situation he found himself in, he felt his body reacting to your closeness, something that even he didn't expect, which brings him back to reality.

"get the fuck off me," he mutters, clearing his throat and almost making you fall when he starts getting up. you quickly compose yourself and stands up as well, taking a few steps back and holding his intense gaze.

you were unable to utter a word while he looked at your hand and then at his knife. that made him feel sick, cursing under his breath and wiping the knife on his robe before looking back at you.

"you're bleeding, y'know..." chris says, causing you to scoff. "no shit, sherlock," despite your shock and fear, you roll your eyes not wanting to give him the satisfaction of scaring you.

you look at your arm, touching the blood that was still oozing out. the wound wasn't large or deep, but enough to make you bleed.

"you cut my fucking arm."

"by accident," he mutters, then frowns. "you kicked me in the balls."

"by accident," you mock him sarcastically.

he shakes his head in disbelief at how, despite this situation and your obvious confusion, you still decided to talk back to him.

"what the fuck is this?!" you finally snap at him, pointing at his outfit and the mask in your hand, "you're dressing up as a ghostface and kill people like that? are you insane?!"

chris licks his lips slowly as he tries to control his own emotions and stay calm. he doesn't reply, what only causes the annoyance grow inside you, "i was aware you're fucked in the head, but killing people, chris?! and what, you came here to move me out of your way too?!" you-"

"jesus, shut the fuck up for once, can ya?! you don't know shit," he runs his hand through his hair, then getting annoyed at his gloves so he takes them off, throwing them on the floor. and he does the same with the rob he was wearing, now staying only in a black tank top and black pants. everything suddenly overwhelmed him.

"oh, i'm sorry, then maybe explain?" the evident sarcasm in your tone makes him take a deep breath. your eyes travel down his body before moving up to his frustrated face again. he sighs, taking a step closer and snatching his mask from your hand, putting it on the desk.

"first of all," he starts a bit calmer now, "as i said, i fuckin' hurt you by accident, so this gotta be taken care of..."

you scoff, "yeah, 'cause my arm is the most important thing here. besides don't act like you care, when you're here trying to kill me—"

"i'm not tryin' to kill you, for god's sake!" he snaps back at you again, moving around your room as if this could help him think.

this situation was terrible for him. out of all the people, you had to be the one to find out what he was secretly doing, which was putting him in some real danger. he believed you won't keep your mouth shut and he's gonna get probably arrested tomorrow morning, if he's lucky enough for you to give him one last night to sort things out. unless... he saves himself by sacrificing you, but that thought doesn't even sit right with him.

"oh, really? should i be thankful?" you roll your eyes.

"yes actually," the sarcasm in his voice only makes your anger grow, but you let him speak. "i don't wanna kill you. stop being an idiot."

"you're an idiot," you say offended, crossing your arms over your chest, causing a few drops of blood to fall on your shirt, chris's attention immediately caught.

with a roll of his eyes, he leaves your room confusing you, so you're fast to follow him. he had been to your apartment several times with his brothers on different occasions, so he knew how it was arranged. he quickly finds himself in the bathroom, starting to look for the first aid kit, while you stand in the doorway with a frown.

"what are you doing?"

"told ya, that cut needs to be taken care of," he mutters finally finding what he wanted, and turning around to face you. "sit your ass down."

but you just scoff, not moving. in a few steps, he's in front of you, trying to uncross your arms, but you almost jump away from him as if his touch burned your skin.

"so fuckin' stubborn," he sighs, holding out his hand so you could grab the first aid kit. "do it yourself," surprisingly for chris, you comply and take it from him, walking into the bathroom and starting to clean up your wound.

the bathroom remains silent for a moment, until you speak up again, "if you're not gonna add me to your list of people you've killed, then why are you here?"

"i don' have a list," he frowns, now leaning against the bathroom counter with his arms crossed, watching as you clean up the blood on your arm. "m'here 'cause i left you a gift."

the death stare that you give him in the mirror makes him stop with the jokes. he just didn't know how to cope with this situation, he was never good at dealing with things seriously.

he clears his throat, while you bandage your arm, "i was just supposed to give you the phone and leave unnoticed once you shower or somethin', but you pissed me off with your tough girl talk. so i had to make an appearance."

you turn around to face him and lean back against the sink, mirroring his position. "and why did you give me that phone?"

"i told ya already, didn't i?" he raises his eyebrow, "so you could delete this fuckass video your stupid ex recorded. and there was also some... extra."

"some extra... you mean that video with an apology?"

chris responds with a nod at your question. there were so many questions swirling around in your head, that you didn't even know where to start. you also knew that you had to choose your words carefully, so as not to scare him but to find out as much as possible.

"why don't you wanna kill me?"

"you suicidal or some shit?" he can't resist making another joke, but the look you're giving him makes him add, "do i have a reason?"

"do you have to?"

"yes," he says simply, not intending to make your little 'investigation' any easier. he was curious what other questions you'd ask him.

"i never gave you a reason?" you ask skeptically, making chris smirk.

"oh, you did. multiple times," he replies bluntly, giving you goosebumps at the thought. "i don't touch women like that."

"like that?"

"y'know i usually make them scream with pleasure, not fear."

you stare at him, blinking slowly before grimacing with disgust, making his grin widen. "oh my god, ew," you shake your head, pushing yourself off the sink and going back to your room, followed by chris. "remind me, why do i even have this conversation with you?"

"'cause you're a curious little fuck," he replies, watching as you walk towards your desk and grab his ghostface mask with curiosity written all over your face.

"so you don't kill women?"

"no."

"why not?"

"i answered that already."

"i'm asking seriously."

"and i responded seriously as well," he leans against your desk beside you, taking the mask from your hands, catching your attention back at him. "men are dickheads, so i'm only makin' them suffer."

"oh, and you know this from your own example?"

chris has to take a deep breath to keep from wiping that stupid smirk off your face. "yeah, i'm a dick, a'ight," he replies with an overly nice tone, before rolling his eyes. "but there are worse people than me."

you just eye him up and down, the skepticism visible in your expression again, while you take a few steps back from him, not liking how close you two were for a moment.

"wow, a killer with manners, who would've thought," you mutter under your nose. you could have sworn the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement, but he quickly hid it.

it's not like you thought he's the worst ever, but he definitely was one of the people you wouldn't want to be close to. you remember how when you first met him and his brothers, you tried to have a normal conversation with chris or get to know him better somehow, but he didn't give you that chance. he was nonchalant, selfish and unfortunately extremely handsome, which was making his ego bigger than his brain.

so with all of these reasons and the back and forth you two have going on, it was really easy for him to become the most annoying person in your eyes.

"so why did you kill jake?"

chris thought you won't finally ask that question you had on the tip of your tongue all this time, so he was happy to answer, "he was one of the dickheads."

"maybe give me more details, you idiot."

"y'don't need more," chris rolls his eyes. "we both know he was an asshole."

despite your reluctance, you had to agree with him, but one thing was still bothering you. chris helped you with jake and his friend at the party last night and now your ex was dead. so this made you think...

"did you do this for me?" you ask, but he just raises an eyebrow, scanning your face for a moment. the smirk on his face doesn't match the boredom you hear in his voice when he finally speaks up, "why would i? not everythin' is 'bout you, princess."

his words stir conflicting emotions within you, and for a moment the room remains silent with a strange, awkward tension.

"enough with the questions," chris says clearly fed up with your curiosity. "he deserved it, that's all."

"you think he deserved to die?"

this one sentence makes something in chris switch, and you see his bored expression turn into annoyance really fast, but not the one he always gave you when you two had the back and forth, but the one that told you that you really, really pissed him off.

he's quick to get closer, backing you up against the wall and getting you trapped between it and him. for some reason your heart starts racing, but you weren't scared at all.

"you ain't gonna be the one to call me out on shit, actin' like you give a fuck 'bout this idiot' death." he hisses through gritted teeth, "you didn't even cry. i see no sadness in your goddamn eyes, so stop pretendin' like i just didn't do you a big fuckin' favor by killin' that douchebag."

the feeling of being exposed like that arises within you, "you don't know how i feel—"

"oh please," he scoffs. "you aren't even mad that i killed him. you wouldn't be doing this whole chitchat thing with me if you were."

seeing that you want to speak again, he doesn't let you and adds, "i've seen you mad, multiple times. i've been makin' you mad constantly. so believe me when i say this little pretty expression of your annoyed face isn't what i see right now."

pretty expression? chris almost frowns at his choice of words, but you don't look like you caught it, which makes him slightly relax.

or maybe you're just good at hiding things.

the feeling that you have to deny it, that you can't give him this satisfaction grows inside you, but you are unable to say anything, realizing that chris is right.

you didn't care about your ex's death. maybe you were that heartless bitch everyone thought you were, but they weren't the ones dealing with jake and his toxicity for almost two years, day after day. they didn't have to hear the disgusting comments, this possessive jealousy. they didn't have to ask their boyfriend for hours for a permission to go out for a drink with your bestfriend, and when he finally agreed, getting a text every ten minutes accusing you of cheating on him and ruining your evening. they didn't have to experience the feeling after finding out that he was fucking a new girl behind your back, then begging for forgiveness just to do it again after a while. you were the one who experienced this and how you feel now is solely your business. no one else's. you didn't even admit to emma that you don't care about jake's death.

but chris knew.

"fuck you," you finally say without breaking eye contact. he lets out a low, mocking laugh, and points his finger at you, sticking it into your shoulder.

"you're not better than me, so stop pretendin' to be." his gaze is so intense that you almost feel small. this has never happened before and it makes you feel something...strange. "n'believe me, better for ya if you keep your mouth shut."

"or what? you gonna kill me?" you scoff, making him almost lose his mind.

"this is just a good advice."

you roll your eyes, still holding your ground, "wow so nice of you, really."

he looks at you, breathing heavily, and only then you both realize how close you are. he's pinning you against the wall, your faces are millimeters apart, both of you unaware that your hearts have just sped up at the same moment.

"i ain't jokin', princess," his voice barely above a whisper, but still intense with a mix of anger and... something you weren't able to name. "if you even try to say anythin', you're fucked."

"now you're threatening me, huh?"

despite your strong personality and the fact that you still acted all tough, you had to admit that at that moment you realized that you got yourself into a really bad situation. not only did you find out something you shouldn't have, but assuming of his reactions, chris hated you even more now.

"told ya already," he tilts his head to the side, and for a split second you could've swear his eyes dropped to your lips before moving back up. "it's just advice. from a good heart."

he waves the ghostface mask in front of your face and adds, "this? this ain't your business at all. you know what you know now, but you won't do shit 'bout it. y'know why?" he remains silent for a moment.

"'cause ya care 'bout your little friend. emma, right? and emma's with matt," he moves closer, whispering in your ear, a strange shiver runs through your body. "and matt knows 'bout everythin', sometimes even helps when shit gets bad. if you'll try snitch on me, you'll do the same to him, not only losing him as a friend, but also breakin' emma's heart." he pulls back to look at your shocked expression, the smirk back on his face, "would be a shame, don'cha think?"

you freeze, staring at him blankly and trying to process everything he just told you. his stupid smirk only made you feel more uneasy, but it was just a facade, there was still that irritation in his eyes.

chris was really desperate to make you to keep quiet. he didn't wanna do anything to you, but you were really dangerous for him now, especially with the hate you feel towards him.

"you're lying," you finally choked out, making him amused.

"oh, am i? or you jus' tryna make yourself feel better?"

"you're telling me matt knows?" the room is quiet for a moment as you two hold the eye contact, then chris responds with a nod.

"he found out himself. nick doesn't know," he anticipates your upcoming question. "and that's how it supposed to be. no one can know shit. you get me?"

you didn't know what to do but you nodded anyway, which surprised him that you complied so quickly. not that he's complaining, but you always put in more of the fight first. he scans your face, you could feel his breath on your cheek, that's how close you two still were.

"y'scared of me or some shit?" you frown at his stupid question and quickly say, "no."

but it was too quick.

"no?" he repeats mockingly, raising his eyebrow. "no," you say again, trying to sound convincing, but he just grins, throwing his mask away and taking the knife out of his pocket. you had no clue when would he even put it there, but that makes you gulp loud.

"good..." he clicks his tongue against the inside of his cheek, "s'good, y'know... means that you won't be scared if i do this..."

the moment he brushes your hair away from your face with his knife is causing your body to shiver again. you stand there, still trapped between chris and the wall, looking at him with wide eyes while he looks like he's having the time of his life.

"...or this..." he mutters, now brushing the hair off your shoulder, exposing your neck, and using the non-sharp side of the knife to run it down your skin to your collarbone.

the way your body started reacting to chris and his movements was completely unexpected for you. yes, you were practically frozen, but not from fear of him. it was because of what you felt at that moment. it was as if all your senses came back and helped you realize that your panties were sticking uncomfortably to your slickery folds.

he made you wet.

you were fucking turned on by all this talk, his closeness, the way he was pissed off at you and now touching you with his knife.

you prayed that he was unaware of what was happening to you. however, chris had his experience with women and the way you stay silent while he literally has his knife on you, definitely made him think. with your attitude, you would've pushed him away already and started yelling at him. but you were just letting him do it.

he wet his bottom lip with his tongue, looking down your body and back up. unfortunately for you, he noticed how your thighs were pressed together. his mind spinned.

"you, uh..." he tilts his head to the side, watching you closely. "this shit like... turns you on or somethin'?"

"what?" you choked out, the panic in your voice is telling him enough.

"oh, shit," chris laughed in disbelief with a raised eyebrow. "y'really are fuckin' crazy, huh?" his knife travels down between your breasts to your stomach. "what exactly is it, hm? the knife? the ghostface mask? me?"

you swallow and the moment his knife stops above the waistband of your sweatpants, you grab his wrist. "what?" he asks, "don't want me to find somethin'? it'd be fair like this, y'know... you know my secret, i'll know yours..."

his eyes flicker between your lips and eyes and it doesn't go unnoticed by you again. chris himself wasn't really sure what he was doing. the thought of you being affected by him like this was almost... unreal. he was intrigued. curious.

"bet you're soaked..." you cut him off, the desperation clear in your voice, "shut up."

"oh, she speaks," he says sarcastically, looking down at how tight your grip was on his wrist, your knuckles almost white, he smirked wider. "you might need a little help down there. don't ya think?"

"what?"

"you heard me," after these words, the silence between you grows with unexpected tension. the effect he had on you made you shiver, something that may have always been in the back of your mind but you never let come to light.

however, this time your control was weak and slipped away completely as your grip on his wrist loosened and you pulled away your hand, giving chris the answer he needed. you saw that he hesitated, but finally moved closer and pressed his lips into yours.

it took you a few seconds to even understand what was happening. then with a little nervousness you kissed him back. the feeling of you giving in to him made the slow, hesitant kiss suddenly more intense, his tongue running over your lower lip, as you felt his hand on the back of your neck.

kissing him was so much better than you could've imagined. not that you did...maybe a few times... maybe. probably by accident. yeah.

his lips were strangely soft for someone who was such a dick. you can hear the faint sound of the knife falling to the ground, then a moment later feel his hand on your hip, your fingers tangling into his hair. such nice hair.

he was completely lost in how good it felt, each second deepening the kiss, your tongues dancing together. then you feel his hardness against your thigh and despite your own need, it reminds you that it's chris you're kissing. the same chris who is always annoying you, is a nonchalant asshole and is someone you hate.

so you break the kiss, your hands slide down to his chest and gently push him away.

chris takes a step back, looking at you through half lidded eyes. both of you panting, the eye contact full of lust makes you immediately regretting what just happened.

"we shouldn't..." you mutter, the annoyance flickers in his expression for a moment at your words, but he hides it. "could've think of that before you kissed me back," at his answer, your cheeks creep up with heat.

he's never in his life seen you blush before. he hates himself for thinking you looked... cute.

"why the hell would you even do that?" your confusion makes him scoff and now he pulls away completely. "i can ask you the same thing," chris wasn't gonna let you blame this on him only.

you say stubbornly, "you did it first."

"doesn't matter," he mutters annoyed. "you kissed me back. y'want my reason? then tell me yours."

you seem almost offended by his words. he wanted a reason? you couldn't give him any, at that moment you couldn't think about anything other than the ache between your legs and his closeness. and you couldn't admit that kissing him and more, was something you thought about sometimes when you were lying alone in your room in the middle of the night.

"there's no reason," you mutter finally, getting another scoff in response.

"of course," he rolls his eyes. "s'whatever anyway. not like it was supposed to mean shit."

that kiss definitely didn't mean anything, you didn't even care. you both got carried away and did something you shouldn't have done.

but the fact was, that you both did like the kiss, and you were both turned on at that moment. he was angry with himself for even thinking about doing something about it, for you both to—

you, on the other hand, got scared how real it was getting when you felt his boner against your thigh. it freaked you out, that he was the one to made you wet, and that you wanted him to help you out.

chris could see it on your face now, the annoyance at yourself that he was turning you on, which made him pissed off for some reason.

"yeah, just moment of weakness," you cross your arms across your chest, looking away, almost trying to escape the intensity of his blue eyes.

he stares at you for a moment, clenching his jaw, "definitely. s'not like i want you anyway."

your gaze immediately comes back to him, feeling the anger bubbling up inside you while he grabs his stuff, shoving the knife into his pocket. "yeah, your pants tight?"

he huffs at your blunt sarcasm, "your panties wet?"

the look you give each other is so sharp you're sure it would cut through the air if it could.

"fuck you," you say. chris grins at that, though it doesn't reach his eyes, "bet you wanna."

you had to clench your hands into fists to hold yourself back from grabbing something and throwing at him, "really i do not."

"right," he nods, walking towards the door. looking over his shoulder, he shows up the ghostface mask, "one word 'bout it and s'gonna be bad for ya."

"just fucking go already."

and he does. not even a minute later you hear the front door slamming shut. you're fast to leave your bedroom and go lock them, making sure he actually left.

you stand there for a moment, resting your back against the cool wood, running your finger across your lips. then you grimace at the discomfort you felt between your legs, desperate for friction.

"what the actual fuck?"

taglist: @certifiedstarrr @chrislovespepsi @le4hsblog @sturnsxbitvh @sweetlikesug4rvenom @xaristhings @mattsfavbitchhh @lvrsturniolo @r0s3luvr @slut4brunettes @madisonsturnioloss @chrispillowprincess @sturnioloslutttt4 @ashlishes @mattsbitchh @hi-people-who-are-alive @stellward123 @inssanely @matts-girlfriend @imnotalive420 @emely9274 @shadowthesim @yunkilm @sophiaxsblog @namelesssav @demyackerman @sturnioloslutttt4 @fratbrochrisgf

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A week passes in a tense slog. Barrett continues his pandering penance and you wallow in irritation. You want to put it behind you. You want to get past it but every time you do, it just happens again.

If this was the first time, it would be easy but you’ve lost count of all the times you’ve had this fight. 

Your menial office work does little to distract. It only allows you to think about all the bullshit. The way Barrett dismisses everything you do and has to list of everything you don’t. The way he can’t see his own flaws or how you’ve never once rubbed his nose in them like a dog.  

Is it passive or weak or just acceptance? You can’t say. You just always put up with it.  It’s just easier not to make an issue of every little thing. Problem is, now it’s a big thing. 

When you come home, you’re worn out but you still have work to do. Dishes, tidying, cooking. Even your weekends don’t allow you must rest. You need to sort through the bills and go get groceries. All along the way, he’s in the way. You’re not sure he’s trying to help, more so trying to force his way to forgiveness. 

You grab a bundle of reusable shopping bags from the cupboard overflowing with them. It only took about a hundred of the things to start remembering to take them with you.  

As you shut the cupboard, Barrett’s on the other side of the oven. Watching and waiting. He’d be a lot more help if you didn’t have to tell him what to do. You forgot a mug and to him, that’s high crime, but he can’t remember to pay the power bill without six texts on the due date. 

“So... what’s going on today?” He smiles. 

It used to be that that smile made you melt. It would make all your troubles flutter away like butterflies. Now it’s just another irk. 

“Groceries.” You wave the fistful of bags. 

“Oh, cool, want me to come?” 

You nearly scoff. Every weekend you ask and every weekend he’s too busy. His pals want him to jam in their garage band or go fishing down at some dirty river. Another tick on the wrong side of the Pros-Cons list. 

“Sure,” you shrug. It’s easier to just let him come along. You don’t need another argument and you could use the extra hands. 

You shove the bags into the folded shopping cart and put your shoes on. He toddles behind like a lost child. You’re repress a glare as you grab your keys and purse. You’re going to have to talk this out sooner than later our you’re really going to hate him. 

He follows you out to the bus stop and you wait in silence. You had a car but it broke down last year. Ever since, he gets a ride off his coworkers or friends and you flash your bus pass. It’s cheaper than leasing a car, even a used one. 

You don’t know what stresses you out more; thinking about all the stuff he does or just thinking about your life. You get on the bus and sit near the back. He reaches over to grab your hand. You wince but don’t pull away. 

“Nice day,” he says. 

“Mhmm,” you grumble. 

His attempt at small talk doesn’t go much further. You get off at your stop and walk the block to the grocery store. You unfold your shopping cart and pull out your list. Barrett grabs a bag of gummy bears and dumps them in the cart. 

“Those aren’t on the list,” you say. 

“I know but it’ll be a nice treat for later. We’ll have some tonight after dinner.” 

“Oh, alright.” 

You factor in the extra cost and mentally cross off the avocado from the list. You can go without. You roll through the produce section and work your way down the list. Barrett trails behind you. 

You stop in the cereal aisle to grab a bag of oatmeal. As you stand, you flinch and cry out at a surprise peck on your cheek. Barrett puts his arm around your shoulder as he presses his lips against you. 

“What are you doing?” You ask. 

“Baby, giving you a kiss.” You look at him and he grins, “I miss you. I love you. I’m tryna be better, honey.” 

“In the grocery store?” You challenge. 

“It’s cute.” 

“Mm, it’s... let’s wait ‘til we get outta here. It’s starting to get busy.” You glance around at the other customers, hoping none of them noticed his little act. “How about you go grab some drumsticks? Flyer says they’re on sale.” 

“Oh, I can do that. Be right back!” He proclaims. 

He shuffles off and you shake your head and turn back to the shelves. The store brand on discount is all out. You hiss in disappointment. You search the rest of the selection. That’s the cheapest on the shelf and you really can’t stretch the extra dollar. 

You look up at the overstock along the top. It’s right up there but you’re just too short to reach. You give a poor attempt then stand flat on your feet. You peer up and down the aisle. You could find an employee. 

“Need some help?”  

You turn to face the stranger and give a start. They aren’t so strange after all. You know him. Well, not know-know him. Everyone in the city knows Steve Rogers, the Captain America. 

“Uhhh...” 

“What’s your brand?” He asks. “They don’t run restock until before closing. I usually come then, less busy but I got... ha, sorry, I’m rambling. What can I grab for you?” 

You lick your dry lips and glance at the shelf. You appreciate the help but telling Captain America that you need the cheapest bag on the shelf isn’t exactly dignified. You point to the price tag on the shelf and he reaches on his toes to grab the edge of the box on the top. He wiggles out a bag and stands flat. 

“Here,” he offers it with a handsome smile. “You know, it’s made at the same factory as the regular brand.” He taps the back of the bag, “exact same address. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re from the same lot.” 

“Oh, well, er... thanks,” you take the oats and put them in your cart. 

“No problem. Sometimes being a hero isn’t very glorious. Sometimes it’s just reaching the top shelf.” 

You force a chuckle. You’re sure the Cap’s life is all sunshine and rainbows. Must be a real ego boost to help the little people. 

“Well, I appreciate it, Captain.” 

“Steve,” he smirks and stares. Your lower your brows and look behind you. Is he looking at someone else? 

“Oh, of course. I should go find my husband.” You roll around him and try to shake off the awkward encounter. You look down at your list as you stop at the end of the aisle. 

“Hope he’s not lost...” Steve calls after you. He says your name and you crane to look at him. You meet his gaze and blanch. He turns and struts off without another word. 

You turn back to your path and slowly leave the aisle. How did he know your name? You replay the interaction and try to recall giving it but you can’t. Well, you’re not exactly thinking straight right now. It’s nothing. You’re just stressed. 

[caughtthedarkness93]

Not to do more Furiosaposting (and SPOILERS AHEAD), but a couple more things I noticed on a second viewing:

• I think Dementus is being honest about how he lost his family when Furiosa confronts him about it, and that's a big point the film is making. Furiosa isn't like Dementus when she finally chases him down. But she recognizes that she could become like him - a vile, cruel warlord who uses his own pain as an excuse to run roughshod all over the wasteland, smashing everything in her path, using her pain as an excuse to take from others. By that point, she's already a part of Immortan Joe's war machine. She is already complicit. And he does say to her that killing him won't give her what she wants. She resists the idea, but ultimately, it sure seems like she realizes he's right. And ultimately, that leads to her big choice - make a positive change rather than simply trying to hurt the people who hurt you. Granted, she still does do plenty of hurting the people who hurt her (Nice face you got there, Joe, be a shame if something happened to it). But the big, real legacy she builds is taking the Citadel in the name of a greater cause than fueling Immortan's cult of cruelty.

• Praetorian Jack is also complicit, honestly. And it's something he seems to recognize. He outright says that he's looking for a righteous cause. There's a lot we don't know about this man. He tells us very little of his history, nor do we know why he chooses to ride for Immortan Joe. But we do know that after meeting Furiosa, he wants to do everything in his power to help her. She becomes his righteous cause. So the whole film, Furiosa is kind of pulled between those two directions - Dementus, and Jack. Do you defeat the pain you carry by throwing it back to the people who gave it to you? Or do you seek a righteous cause to build it into something positive?

• Perhaps one of my biggest takeaways is related to Jack's death. It's not until Dementus kills Jack that Furiosa gets really set on revenge. Like she clearly loathes Dementus before that. Her first time meeting him as an adult, she goes straight for her gun. The camera highlights their relationship a lot, and I'm pretty sure her vengeful drive towards him has its own musical motif - listen for that driving, distorted noise that you hear sometimes. But revenge doesn't become her biggest driver until after Jack dies. Even as she feels clear hate and rage towards this man, she's still set on getting home all that time. But when Jack dies, she goes out of her way to try to kill him. And, relatedly, when Jack dies, she loses the arm that has her star map tattoo on it. So to put it another way, when she chooses to commit to vengeance, she loses her way.

• We need to consider perspective and narrator here, as this isn't like Fury Road where it's from the point of view of Max, who was directly there. Because this film's opening shot isn't of Furiosa. It's of another character - it's of the History Man. The first line belongs to him - "As the world falls around us. How must we brave it's cruelties?" The closing narration is his as well. Something that sticks in my head more and more is Dementus' ultimate fate. What gets me about it is that it feels implausible. Not only for Furiosa as a character, but for the way the series usually handles injuries. So George Miller was a paramedic before he was a filmmaker. In fact, his work as a paramedic is what partly inspired the first Mad Max film and what funded it. And in these films, Miller has put his medical knowledge to use. The characters' injuries are usually handled in a realistic way, with a few flights of fancy for people to make it through frankly absurd car wrecks. You see this especially in Fury Road, which takes the time to establish that Max is a universal donor twice so it makes sense to have him give a blood transfusion to Furiosa at the end. It talks about the ultimate effects of her collapsed lung and how to treat it. The injuries in these films feel realistic in a way movie wounds often don't. Dementus' final fate does feel a little complicatedly cruel for someone as pragmatic as Furiosa, but what really gets me is how medically implausible it is. We're supposed to believe that Dementus has been stuck in the citadel with a peach tree growing out of him for five years without dying? I...kinda don't. Why does this matter? I think it signals that aspects of the story fall to unreliable narration. These films are campfire stories from a world that fell and rose again. Always have been. But this one has a more direct narrator. The History Man is telling this story. It is filtered through his perspective.

• And that adds another layer to things, considering Furiosa and the History Man's backgrounds. We see the History Man, we see a guy who is clearly horrified by Dementus' actions. When Furiosa's mom is getting executed, he cries. He tells Furiosa that she needs to make herself indispensable - likely because he feels that it's the best way to protect her. But he still does Dementus' bidding, often without question or argument. In a word, the thing that ultimately separates the History Man from Furiosa is that where he was complicit until the very end, Furiosa chose to rebel.

• And I guess if I had to boil it all down, I think there's a great big takeaway from this film. Don't seek hope. Become hope.

Man, I love this movie.

[staticbleeding]

⛧°。 ⋆Waiting on the Stars⋆。 °⛧

+:｡.｡　teen Stanford Pines x gn reader　｡.｡:+

The second part!! I was not expecting so much love on my first post on this account! I am so happy y'all enjoyed the first part! Enjoy this <3 warnings : strong language, suggestive language, the usual teen shit pt.1 pt.2

1972 After the night at the pawn shop, Ford hasn't been able to stop thinking about you. It is starting to become painfully obvious. Especially to Ford's twin that has to hear all the midnight ramblings. Will he have to help his brother out, or will fate help Ford himself?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Ford's POV

I wake up to Stan's snoring. Pushing my glasses onto my face, my feet touch the ground beneath me. I rub my eyes and start to regret not getting much sleep. Looking up at the clock on the bed side table, my heart drops. I'm gonna be late.

"Wake up Stanley. We are going to be late if we don't leave in like 30 minutes! I can't miss the first block", I say as I shake the sleeping man above me. His arm lays down off his bunk.

"Fuck off Sixer we can be a little bit late"

"Stanley it's not going to happen." I say as I stumble out of bed and pull my neatly folded clothes out of the dresser and begin pulling them on.

"Sorry you only get a chance to see your little lover in class man, but ain't no way I am getting up after you kept me awake all night". Stanley grumbles and rolls back over in his bed.

"Please Stanley.." I reluctantly beg my sleeping brother

With a loud groan Stanley jumps off the bed and starts putting on his clothes from the floor.

"Thank you". I sigh out and rush to the kitchen to make some sort of breakfast before we leave.

"Morning dears! You two slept in didn't you?" Ma cheerfully asks as her arms cradle the youngest of the Pines, Shermie.

"Yeah Ma," Stan runs out of our room yelling and leans down to plant kisses on our brother's small head, " Fordsy wouldn't let me get anymore. Couldn't miss out on seeing his little lover." His elbow pokes my side before grabbing his favorite snack.

"Stanford! You didn't tell me you have a little (girl/boyfriend/partner)! I am your mother!" Ma laughs out.

Looking down at my feet I stutter out, "Not exactly.."

"He's too.. s-scared to ask t-them out." Stan poorly attempts to mock me. A loud booming laugh comes out of his mouth.

"Quit it Stanley. I am sure your brother will get the courage soon. When can I meet them?" An overly excited Ma elbows me.

"We have to go Stan. Please. Ma, I haven't even really talked to them. I can't ask them out, let alone invite them over for dinner. Now we must leave." I say before kissing her on the cheek and grabbing Stan to pull out of the door. 

Wishing for a quiet ride to school was nothing but fantasy with Stan. I couldn't do more than just stare out the window and wish the long rant of his would end quickly.

"I don't see why you don't just go up and ask them out Ford. They seem like a nice enough person to not throw a drink in your face for asking them out. I take a couple of classes with them. Pretty smart cookie too." My twin's words fall out of his mouth as if he is some expert in relationships.

"I can handle my own relationship ventures Stanley. Thank you but I really don't think they like me back. Hell why would they? I can't even look at them without becoming a mess and stumbling on my words. For all I know, they have a guy already." My hands find my face.

"Ford, they don't have a guy. Please. They ask me about you all the time in class. I may not have a good thing with relationships, but look Sixer, they would be stupid to not like you back," His hand touches my shoulder and squeezes, "but if they don't then more chicks for us when we set sail on the Stan O' War eh??". My stomach tightens at the thought of (Y/N) asking him about me. What did they want to know? Oh God what did Stan tell them?

As the car comes to a stop, I jump out and thank Stanley for the talk. Rushing to class, I find (Y/N) sitting in their usual seat doodling in their note book. I smile and wipe my hands on my pants. Walking over to our partnered seats, I feel my heart race quicken when they look up and smile that smile at me. My face warms quickly. My hand waves at them.

"Thought for a second you weren't gonna show Ford. Started to get worried Stan's driving finally killed you." God there is that smile of theirs.

"Haha.. no no. He just wouldn't get up." I stutter out as my stomach tightens realizing that they just said they worried about me.

"Well I will remember to yell at him later for almost making you late". They laugh and we sit in a comfortable silence.

"So what do you have planned for this weekend?" I swear I see a light blush appear on their face.

"Me?! Oh um.. working probably. Stan hates working the shop on the weekends". I say while looking down at my hands.

"Oh well that sucks. I was gonna see if you wanted to maybe.." They are quickly interrupted by the teacher coming into class with a mumble of sorrys and excuses for being late.

Quickly they turn their focus back to the notebook. It's a little black notebook that has stars they are drawing on the cover. A blush coats their face.

Soon class ends and I watch as they hurry out. This time they turn around and smile at me. My heart skips. I find myself thinking of that one interaction the rest of the day. I walk out of the school and towards the bright red car parked out front. A smile plastered to my face. It fades seeing Stan outside the car holding a way too familiar notebook.

"Don't tell me you took their notebook Stanley! I get wanting to help me but that is insane!" I whisper scream out towards my brother.

"Don't get your panties in a twist Sixer. They left it in class today, but...here check the cover". He tosses the object towards me that I luckily catch. I open the cover and see their name and the words 'If lost call me!' with their number attached. A blush finds my face. Is this the chance I have been waiting for?

"Lets go man. You got a call to make". Stanley laughs and gets into the car.

The car ride home was filled with silence as I went over every possible outcome to this. They could think I was weird for using their number without permission, or ask why Stanley didn't call, or..

My thoughts are quickly stopped as Stan slams on the breaks and parks. I quietly get out of the car and go upstairs. I thank the stars that Stan is working the shop tonight.

I sit in the kitchen watching the phone as if it will grow legs and walk out. My palms sweat against the hard cardboard cover. Stanley walks in to the room whistling. He stares at me and sighs.

"Sixer...seriously? You still haven't called?" He leans across the counter and eyes the notebook.

"This is a really bad idea Stan. I can't do it. I will just hand it to them personally first thing Monday Morning" I sigh and start to stand up to leave. I freeze in my tracks hearing the rotary dial turn.

I whip around and see Stan putting in the numbers I have eyed now for hours.

"Stan wait! Don't you dare!" I run over and go to press the receiver before the call goes through. Too late. Stan laughs and hands me the phone. Walking away with a shit eating grin. I hear the voice I have imagined in my dreams countless times, the voice that causes my body to instantly react, oh God what am I going to say? Do I hang up? I feel like throwing up. My heartbeat I can hear in my ears.

"Hello?"

Too late

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Hahaha gotta love good ol' siblings!

[rottenblur]

National anthem|A.ANDERSON

College football! Abby x reader| 2.3k

Summary: Being dragged to a football game by your best friend wasn’t something new, but Abby breaks out in a fight with another player, you just happen to be the one to come to her rescue. Would you have done it all over again if you knew what was going to happen in your dorm that night?

Warnings: smut violence for a second, abby being taken (doesnt last long), alcohol use, fluff sort of, thigh riding, kissing, choking for two seconds, patching up abby, past abby being a asshole lowkey, abby being a air forces wearer.

She was a true american. Long blonde hair, a scholarship for college football, to be the best quarterback in the state. An expensive car, a doctor for a father, daddy’s money.

Abby had boys half her size all over her, too bad for them they weren’t her type, led alone she was taken. Abby had her bitchy, short, brunette girlfriend. You always thought of her as a small dog that never stops yapping.

You knew Abby due to your only other friend, the only other non snobby person at this school. She made you go to all of the football games played at your school, if they weren’t there she would drive the two of you wherever they were playing

She says it’s because she really likes football, you knew it was because she had a crush on the masculine linebacker.

You walk with her out of the cafeteria after paying an outrageous amount for an inappropriate amount of food. She turns her head to look at you. “I’m really excited, this is their enemy school.” You roll your eyes at her.

“When are you gonna admit it’s just because of that linebacker?” You said to her, as she starts speed walking, you say her name and she just flips you off.

You arrive at the game, sitting on the third bleacher from the top, your friend searching for her girl crush on the side lines.

She doesn’t find her but she sees Abby’s girlfriend sitting on her phone on the bottom bleacher. “Oh my god, of course she’s here. Does she ever leave her alone?” She was right, fucking lap dog never went anywhere without Abby. Always following right behind.

Sometimes Abby looked annoyed like she wanted some space, sometimes Abby’s hands where all over her, on her waist, her hips, in her fucking back pocket.

It pissed you off, was it jealousy? Fuck no you could care less about Abby. Yeah you had a crush on her when you first arrived on campus, her a year older she was settled in, confidently strolling around campus it was so fucking attractive to you. She knew who she was already.

After going to a freshman welcoming party at a frat, where you talked for the first time, the lust quickly turned to hatred.

You were waiting in line for the bathroom on your third drink, tipsy but not quite drunk. She came up behind you, also waiting. You stood leaned against the wall clutching your drink, she looked you up and down. “Hey.” You said to her, she looked into your eyes. She was dressed in a t-shirt, black pants paired with white air forces, her hair messily down.

“What’s up?” She said then looked around. You clutched your drink tighter, she looked so fucking good, her sleeves were begging for life, arms too big for it. “I'm good, you new too?” You tell her your name, she repeats it and you nod. “I’m Abby, not new.” She walks up to the door, leans in to listen. “Fuck, get the fuck out. go fuck in your dorm.” She says as she pounds on the door.

Your eyes go wide, it was very forward of her. Too forward? They walk out, a guy and her soon to be girlfriend, this is when you met her too. “God you’re fucking rude.” Abby grabs the back of her shirt, she must have been drunk for her to get physical over such a little thing.

She turns around, now looking up at Abby. “You always such a rude fucking whore?” She asks, the girl looked like she would rock her shit, except Abby would knock her out in one hit. She apologizes under her breath then walks away.

After that you thought Abby was too intense. Believe it or not her and Abby’s relationship was the same then and now, they still fight and argue except they fuck it out. How did you know that? Your friend or should I say best friend’s dorm was right next to Abby’s. She heard them fight then fuck almost everyday.

At least it sounded like she was good at it. One night you slept over to her’s around two am they argued, then fucked it out. You could hear the moans from down the hall, if Abby’s dad didn’t donate so much to the school she would probably be kicked out.

The game goes well, you actually started to learn how football worked with the amount of games you had been dragged to by your best friend. She hadn’t even talked to the girl, it was kinda pathetic, you would never tell her that though. Around the end the enemy team was one point away from winning, Abby tripped, losing the ball. The other team won.

You put your head in your hands in disappointment, your friend tapped your shoulder. “Are you good? What’s wrong?” You look up at her in disbelief. “They lost.” You point to the field, she widened her eyes. “Really? Why?” She says. You roll your eyes.

“You are funny.” You say that get up, following the crowd in leaving. You're on the ground next to the field when you look over, Abby is approaching a girl with her hands out screaming about her tripping her or something. She was fuming, maybe she didn’t get so mad that one time just because she was drunk. Maybe she was always like that.

Her girlfriend walks over to diffuse it, Abby pushes her aside and starts swinging on the girl, it’s not like she wasn’t defending herself Abby was getting roughed up too. When you saw Abby spit out blood and keep swinging, that's when you decided you’ve seen enough.

You walk back to the dorms, your friend already left when you stopped for entertainment. You put your headphones in, walking at a comfortable pace till you stop at the vending machines, right at the dorm entrance.

You took an earbud out when you heard footsteps behind you, looking behind that’s when you saw her. She looked horrible. Her braid had come undone, her nose bleeding in two spots, a dribble of blood dried on her lip. God she was going to have a black eye tomorrow.

“Holy fuck, are you okay?” You say to her, she looks at you and for a moment she has a soft look in her eye. “‘M okay.” You walk up to her, putting a hand on her arm and analyzing her face closer. She didn’t resist.

“No you’re not. Let me clean you up, I have some stuff in my room.” She looks around, looking at her shoes then you. “Fuck it.”

She walks up with you to your dorm, you open the door for her, her following behind you. It was the first time you had seen her walk behind someone before, she was always leading the way no matter who she was with.

“Sorry if it’s messy, been studying like crazy the past week, haven’t really had time for anything else.” She strugs, sitting on your bed, kicking off her shoes. You gather the tossed about medical supplies you had. Some gauze, bandaids and alcohol. You grab a soda out of your mini fridge for her eye.

You hold it out, putting it on her eye. “Hold that, don’t have any ice, sorry.” She smirks, you sit on your desk chair, scooting to the edge and wheeling it infront of her.

You tuck one of your legs in between her spread legs, your knee inching away from her crotch.

“So what happened?” You ask her as you pour some vodka on a patch of gauze. “Shit, alot.” You roll your eyes, dabbing around her wounds to remove the dried blood. You accidentally touch the gash on her lip, she flinches and lets out a whimper of pain.

She clears her throat, trying to play cool on the fact she feels pain. As if it’s not normal.

“C’mon I’m fixing you up, the least you can do is tell me why.” You squeeze her thigh as an effort to comfort her. “I uh broke up with my girlfriend, I took out my anger on some girl, knowing damn well she isn’t the reason we lost.” She said looking down. You laugh, slowing your hands just so she has an excuse to stay longer. Seeing her in this vulnerable state made her grow on you.

She was better like this.

“So you broke up with her and you’re mad about that. Even though it was your choice.” She nods as if it's a perfectly logical thing to do. “Maybe it was the best thing to do? You know, My friend’s dorm is right next to yours. “Oh god.” She says then grabs the vodka, taking a quick chug then letting you continue. She had long taken the soda off her face.

You were slightly hoping it was to look at you.

“Yeah, she was crazy.” You believed her when she said that, she looked like the type. Not that you were the type of person to judge on how they look. If you did you probably wouldn’t be playing doctor with Abby on your bed right now.

“Can I say something?” You ask her, waiting for her to confirm. She nods, you place a bandaid across her nose covering the gash. “She never stopped talking oh my fuck, I dont know how you dealt with that.” She laughs, leaning back onto her elbows.

“Yeah, you learn to zone it out after a while.” She looks at you, up and down her eyes falling on a necklace tied around your neck.

She leans to you, grabbing the necklace, rubbing it in between her fingers. Goosebumps covering your body when she touched your skin. Fuck. That little touch made you feel things.

She looks into your eyes, then to your lips. It looks like she’s trying to figure you out, figure something out. “You’re in my engineering class aren’t you?” She says, still holding onto your necklace.

You nod. “I'm surprised you knew that.” She smiles at you, letting out a slight laugh. “After i freaked out at that party, then saw you in class the next day I was so fucking embarrassed.” She pauses then drops your necklace. “I never forgot you, you know I thought you were pretty cute that night.” You blush, grabbing the vodka bottle, taking a lengthy sip then coughing.

You never thought she could be embarrassed, she had so much pride.

“I thought you were intimidating.” You say honestly, as the vodka burns down your throat. She tilts her head. “That a good thing? Cause I’m going to take it as a compliment.” She says, taking the bottle from your hands then taking another sip.

You don’t know what came over you but you put her hand on your cheek, you look at her face to see her reaction, nothing.

Again she looks at your eyes, your lips then back to your eyes. She leans in, placing her other hand on your neck. Her plush lips connect with yours, you pull back looking at her then back in.

She moved fast, an innocent kiss turned into heavy making out. She pulled you onto her lap, her arm wrapped around your waist holding you tight to her.

She pulls off of you, kissing from your jaw to your collarbone, your back arching in response. She moves you over slightly, her thigh now in between yours.

Oh my fucking god.

She sucks on your neck, guiding your hips to ride her thigh, slow and brutal. With one hand she puts her hand on your neck pulling you back into a kiss as she guides your hips faster.

You could feel yourself reaching your climax, moaning into the kiss when Abby gets a call.

She picks it up, connects her lips to your neck, not stopping your hips.

“What the fuck Abby, where are you I’m at your dorm? I need my shit.” You feel her sigh on your neck, giving it one last kiss then responding. You try to quiet your moans, it was torture.

“I’m busy.” All she says before connecting your lips with hers. You feel her flexing her leg, laying down the phone on speaker now guiding your hips with both hands.

“Well hurry the fuck up or I’ll find whatever or whoever you’re doing.” Said her now ex girlfriend then hangs up.

“Gonna have to speed this up darling, not like I won't be back for more, you’re delicious.” She said into your ear, pushing you harder onto her thigh.

That pet name, god it pushed you over the edge. You squeeze her thighs between hers as your body shuttered on her, she kissed you then you moved off of her.

You look down at her thigh, now has a wet spot from you, you look at her face, lip bleeding again. You lick your lips, the strong iron taste filling your senses. Had it been bleeding the whole time?

You drank down her blood as you filled your lust, she didn’t stop you.

There was something so wrong about it..

She looks at you then her phone, sucking her lip into her mouth then letting it go, touching it with her thumb. Muttering a fuck under her breath, then standing up.

“Gotta go ‘m sorry.” She says while shoving on her shoes, walking to the door then walking over to you to give your forehead a kiss.

She touches her lip to her t-shirt leaving a crimson stain bound to last. “See ya.” That’s all you say to her before she walks out the door, knowing there was a chance you’d never hear from her again.

You still let her go.

A/N: college football abby makes me feral ive seen a couple of these and wanted to participate :)) love yall

[cj-schlatt]

"You're what's important right now" with schlatt? 🥰🥰🥰

I decided to combine these requests, hope you don't mind!! 🩷

Content: Hurt/comfort, minor car accident, mentions of hospital visit

(Prompt list here)

It all happens so fast.

One minute, you’re driving around, the volume of the radio turned up high as you enjoy the otherwise quiet night. The next, you’re being forcefully thrown against your seat belt.

In a daze, you stumble out of the car, now sitting on the side of the road and sporting substantial damage to the rear bumper.

It was a drunk driver, you’ll find out later. For now, you’re grateful to find that someone else comes along and stays with you until help arrives.

The ambulance ride and emergency room visit are a bit of a blur. You’re told that you have a mild concussion and some minor bruising but overall were very lucky.

Once you’re discharged, you’re not quite sure what to do. It’s the middle of the night, and you’re stranded at the hospital without a car.

After adjusting the brightness of your phone screen to make it as dim as possible, you begin scrolling through your contacts. One name catches your eye immediately.

Schlatt.

He had said that you could call him any time, for any reason, but you’re still unsure. What if he didn’t mean it?

You’re exhausted, your head is pounding, and you’re all alone. You decide that you can at least call him. Even if he refuses to pick you up, you think talking to him will make you feel better.

“Hello?” he answers roughly on the fifth ring.

“Schlatt? It’s me.” You decide to cut right to the chase. “Can you come get me?” you ask timidly.

“‘Course,” he says, not even taking a moment to think about it. “Where are you?” he asks, voice still tinged with sleep.

You take a breath. “The hospital.”

Suddenly, he’s much more alert. “What the fuck happened?! Are you okay?”

You briefly explain the car accident and your injuries. You can hear shuffling on the other end of the line as Schlatt presumably gets out of bed and ready to leave.

“Stay right where you are. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“O-Okay. Thank you.”

“Do you want me to stay on the line ‘til I get there?” His voice is soft and soothing.

“Yes, please,” you squeak out in reply.

Schlatt continues chatting with you as he makes his way to you at the hospital. He tells you about his day, what antics the cats have gotten up to recently. By the time he’s pulling up to you at the hospital entrance, you’re feeling a little calmer, you headache subsiding just a bit.

He gets out of the car and rushes over to open the door for you.

You eye the vehicle warily.

Schlatt must notice your hesitation, because he says, “I’ll drive extra careful, promise.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” you mutter, gathering your courage and climbing into the passenger’s seat.

He makes sure you’re both buckled up before he begins driving. To his credit, it’s a slow, smooth ride.

“I’m sorry—” you start to say after a few minutes of silence, but Schlatt cuts you off.

“No, no, you’re not apologizing to me.”

“But I woke you up—” you try again.

“Doesn’t matter. You’re what’s important right now, okay?”

You nod, not quite knowing how to answer.

You feel yourself start to drift off as Schlatt drives. For the first time tonight, you feel safe, like you can finally relax.

Eventually, you feel someone gently shaking your shoulder.

“Hey,” Schlatt’s saying, “we’re home.”

You look around, not immediately recognizing the area. It takes you a moment to realize that Schlatt has driven you to his place, instead of bringing you to your own home.

“Figured you’d need someone to keep an eye on you,” he says as he watches you take in your surroundings.

“Oh, no, that’s okay—” you begin.

“Nope, it’s not up for debate,” he insists, reaching over to unbuckle your seat belt. “C’mon.” He comes around to your side of the car and opens the door.

You don’t have it in you to argue any further. You’re fucking exhausted, and all you want is a nice, comfy bed; you don’t care whose it is.

Schlatt helps you out of the car, keeping a hand on your back as he guides you inside and into the bedroom.

“I’ll be on the couch, if you need anything,” he says once you’re settled, already turning away from you.

“Wait!” you call. You’re not ready to be alone just yet.

He looks back at you. “Yeah?”

“Can you…stay, maybe?” you ask, your voice sounding small to your own ears.

His face softens. “‘Course,” he says, not hesitating to climb into bed with you.

It’s there, snuggled up next to Schlatt in his bed, that you fall asleep, headache nearly forgotten, the most at peace you’ve felt in a long time.

[ghostlyfleur]

𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬, 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬

eddie munson x new girl

contents: new girl referred to as angel, lovesick!eddie, strangers to friends to lovers, hellfire club, dustin henderson cameo, mutual pining, inexperienced!reader, shy!reader, maybe fairy!reader but i’m not sure yet.

word count: ~1k

summary: eddie lets his love consume him, and he’s okay with it.

eddie munson is down bad. in love. completely enamored. shot by cupid. and she’s beautiful. the fairest maiden in all the land.

she’s all flowery dresses, flowy skirts, cozy sweaters, butterfly clips in her hair, fairy wing eyeliner design and shimmery glitter on her eyelids, sparkly pink lipgloss, highlighter on her cheekbones— the prettiest angel he’s ever seen. absolutely ethereal. the thing is, she’s terribly clueless. oblivious, even. her and eddie have built a lovely friendship over the last few months, ever since he met her when he picked dustin up from the library. that’s when it happened. that’s when he got hit. an arrow straight through his heart.

his angel — because she must be an angel, with the way the sun followed her around and made her shimmer — was aiding dustin with his search, trying to find books on supernatural lore that he could take inspiration from for the campaign he was putting together. it was dustin’s first campaign in his hellfire club career, and he was taking it very seriously to eddie’s amazement and amusement. but whatever thoughts about dungeons and dragons that were swirling around his head cleared completely at the sight of her; in her white sandals, knee-length white silky skirt, and alice in wonderland graphic tank top she was a sight to behold. a mirage. a dream. sunny disposition, bright smile, fidgety hands, and the most enchanting voice— a siren call, really. and eddie was hooked. it didn’t help that dustin talked his ear off about the nice girl that was quick to provide him with an immense list of folklore and magic lore books that could help him, about fairytales and whimsical creatures.

“she talked about fairies as if she were one, dude, it was sick!” dustin gushed.

eddie noticed the kid kept going back to the same library, kept entering his van afterwards with a list of books and another cute tale revolving around the pretty angel girl of eddie’s dreams. until one day dustin looked all nervous and coy and a little scared, and yeah, usually eddie loved to invoke that same reaction from him, but this time he didn’t know the reason behind it, behind the kid’s hesitant gaze. and truly it couldn’t have been a better reason. dustin wanted the mystery angel to be able to attend hellfire, to watch his campaign.

“‘s the least i can do, man! she helped me with a lot of it and she was like- super interested in my shirt and stuff, please?” eddie’s quick reply, the resounding ‘yes’ he couldn’t hold back, caught dustin by surprise but he didn’t question it. don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that, right?

angel showed up in a long skirt with a flower pattern, converse shoes, and a black queen shirt tucked in. braided hair, lipgloss, and a tupperware box filled with chocolate chip cookies for the whole club.

“my thanks for letting me crash your campaign.”

eddie was hooked. once the session was done and the boys were gone, thanking her profusely for the treats after they picked her brain for cryptid lore, she stayed behind to help eddie tidy up, and they talked about music. she was shy, incredibly so, soft spoken and giggly and socially awkward, but she laughed at eddie’s jokes and playfully teased him once or twice, and complimented his bats tattoo, so eddie offered her a ride home. she gracefully declined, claiming she drove herself, so he walked her to her car instead.

plans were made so that she attended each of dustin’s campaign sessions and through those sessions, the clean up afterwards, the talks about music and bands and movies, their time together evolved to going for milkshake afterwards, a coffee shop for some hot chocolate sometimes, and a friendship blossomed. a very strong one at that.

being alone, living alone, existing alone was kind of her thing— she preferred to be by herself, to indulge in her hobbies on her own, because she was anxious. extremely anxious. but apparently not at all reserved about it or ashamed of talking about it, which was proven by the fact that she casually let it slip pass her lips that she had an anxiety disorder the very first time she was alone with eddie after hellfire.

not a single sign of shame or guilt in admitting it, and eddie admired that.

admired that she was a loner even though she was so polite and kind, ready to send anyone she walked past a smile because she knew how much it mattered to those who needed a little kindness. a quiet soul but couldn’t shut up if you cared enough to figure out her interests, she laughed at everything, giggled without reason sometimes, talked to herself a lot, was often lost in daydreams, had a dark sense of humor surprisingly. complex but friendly. eddie couldn’t get enough, always wanting to find out more about her, to talk to her more, to understand her more.

but most importantly, in her opinion, eddie allowed her to be herself without any judgment. encouraged her even. and that was priceless. so yes, a strong friendship bloomed, but neither one of them wanted to stop at just that. the dark haired boy was quickly aware of his growing feelings, his attraction, his infatuation that turned to love, while his angel didn’t clock in on her emotions quite so fast, being entirely inexperienced and lacking any previous romantic validation. her anxiety and introverted tendencies played a part in that too, probably.

but that’s alright, eddie is more than okay with waiting for her to catch up.

♡

── harmo’s footnotes:

i love thinking about our sweet eddie falling for a soft girl. he deserves a cozy, comfy, cute love story! please remember to show your support by reblogging!

masterlist. eddie dreams.

ghostlyfleur © — all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, or translate.

[anna-hawk]

Keep your nose in my business

Shane Walsh x F!Reader

Summary: You meet a stranger at the bar and the only thing you can think about is riding that man's gorgeous nose. R18+ 🔞🔞 || WC: 3k CW:smut, anonymous sex, casual sex, strangers to lovers, oral sex (f receiving), car sex, reader had a bit to drink but not enough to not know what she's doing A/N:In answer to this poll's results.

Read it on AO3

It was Saturday night, and you decided to hit the bar with a couple of friends to help take off the edge after one seriously long week. You’d been at it for a few hours now, all of you riding a nice buzz and laughing at one of the tables, when two men walked in and headed straight for the bar. Your eyes instantly zeroed in on one of them as the men sat down at the counter with their profiles facing you.

You knew that you were staring, barely looking away and almost ignoring your friends in the process as they chatted and laughed around you, but you couldn’t help yourself.

A shiver ran down your spine while you took in the man’s features, which was easy enough since you were only sitting two tables away from the bar. His hair was in a buzz cut, which emphasized the perfect shape of his head, while it also highlighted the straight line of his nose and the curve of his lips. The nose in particular was what had you so riveted to the man’s face. As you watched him animatedly talk to his friend, you could see that his nose was broad and slightly crooked. However, it was exactly these details that added to his rugged face and made him so appealing to you. 

“What got you so distracted?” suddenly piped up one of your friends from right next to you, leaning against you to look in the direction you’d been staring at. “Oh,” she crowed with a grin, elongating the vowel. “Well, don’t you got a nice view? Which one is it? Oh, wait, silly me,” she giggled with a knowing smirk. “The right on.”

So maybe you had a type.��

Grinning at her with a hum of confirmation, you drew your attention back to the man, only to notice that he was the one watching you now. Taken by surprise, you blinked a couple of times, realizing that he or his friend must have caught you or your friend staring. You didn’t look away, though. Especially since he was watching you with interest. Instead, you slightly lifted your head and inclined it to the side, a small, challenging smile forming on your lips. The man’s mouth pulled up into a curious smile. 

“Don’t wait for me,” you announced to the table as you got up, only turning your head slightly into your friends’ direction, while never taking your eyes away from the man. 

“Have fun!” The same friend from before exclaimed with glee, while the others cat called as they caught on to what was happening.

Grabbing your purse, you made your way towards the bar, where the man was watching you come closer. Your stomach jumped with excitement at the lengthy once over he gave you, making you feel glad that you’d opted for the dress you were wearing tonight. When you were only a few steps away from him, he swiveled on the bar stool until his whole body was facing your way. 

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head to the side with a playful smile as he observed you. 

“Hey, yourself.” You leaned your back against the bar and turned your head towards him. There was barely a foot separating you from him now. 

The man looked even better up close, with the first three buttons of his shirt undone and a pendant hanging low on his smooth chest. But his nose… It was even more appealing, with its straight slope that gave way to a defined cupid's bow and lips. You smiled to yourself at the images entering your mind in relation to said nose. 

“Havin’ a good evenin’?” he wondered, taking a gulp from his beer while keeping his eyes on you. 

“Mhm.” This time, you were the one to give him a very deliberate once over, your eyes stopping a little longer on his crotch and the promising bulge in it. “You?”

“Just got better,” he smirked, which had you chucking in appreciation. “Can I get you somethin’ to drink?”

“I don’t wanna be interrupting anything,” you said with a fake air of innocence, giving a half shrug and a glance at the man’s friend. 

“Nah, ma’am, he’s all yours,” the friend said with a snort and a small, amused shake of his head as he drank from his beer bottle. 

“You hear that?” the man chuckled, leaning an elbow on the counter as his eyes dropped to your mouth for an instant.

“I do,” you hummed softly, satisfied with the way he was looking at you.

The man grinned and lifted his hand to call the barman. “Get the lady whatever she’d like, yeah?”

The barman nodded and looked at you, waiting for your order.

“Whatever he’s having is fine,” you replied, since you didn’t really care about the drink. 

Your eyes returned to the man, who was still watching you. 

“I’m Shane,” he said, motioning for you to take a seat, which you ignored. You weren’t interested in chitchat and didn’t intend to stay in the bar much longer. 

“Nice to meet you,” you smiled sweetly.

Shane frowned faintly after you didn’t introduce yourself in turn. 

“Don’t I get a name?” he inquired after a beat. 

You chuckled softly. “What does it matter?” 

His eyes narrowed curiously this time, quietly assessing you for a few seconds, before his lips slowly curved up on one side as he tried to figure you out. 

“Well, I gave you mine…” he trailed off meaningfully, his sharp gaze on your face. 

“Mm, true, but yours might be more useful than mine,” you explained in a light tone.

“Oh yeah? How so?”

Oh, he was definitely intrigued now, and you loved it. 

You turned your whole body towards him and leaned into his space until your face was only a few inches away from his. 

“When you’ll have me screaming your name,” you whispered, your eyes locked with his. 

His entire demeanor instantly changed. His back straightened, while his face morphed from amused curiosity to intense interest, his brown eyes becoming dark pools as he regarded you. Heat ran through your entire body at the way he was watching you, his expression promising something that had you already feeling your arousal thrumming between your legs. 

“Rick,” Shane rumbled as he got up, which had him standing right in your space as he addressed his friend without looking at him.

“Just go. But you owe me one,” Rick snorted good-naturedly.

Shane only hummed in acknowledgement, his eyes not moving away from you. 

Throwing him a lopsided grin, you took a couple of steps backwards before turning around and making your way towards the exit. You didn’t check if Shane was following you; you knew he was. Once outside, you headed straight for your car, which was standing at the furthest part of the parking lot, and listened to the thuds of Shane’s booted feet behind you. As soon as you’d unlocked the car, Shane grabbed you by an arm and turned you around until he had you pressed against the passenger door. His other hand came up to take hold of your jaw as his mouth descended on yours. He kissed you hungrily, his tongue claiming your mouth and making you moan against his lips. 

“What exactly is it that you want from me, Darlin’?” he asked after lowering his mouth to your jaw and biting teasingly over it. “I know there gotta be somethin’ specific in that pretty lil’ head of yours with the way you approached me,” he continued, moving to your ear and nosing along the skin behind it, which had you grabbing at his shirt. “Somethin’ a lil' rough…? Somethin’ quick 'n dirty…?” He slid his hands down your body; over your hips and thighs, before moving them to your ass and pressing you against him, making you feel his hardening length. 

“Very observant,” you laughed through a moan, before he took your mouth again, which made you feel his grin against your lips.

“So?” He whispered against your lips, while his fingers began raising your dress over your thighs to get to your skin. 

Uttering a soft laugh, you briefly caught his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked at it, which had Shane rocking against you with a small groan. 

“I wanna ride your face,” you revealed after a few seconds, drawing your head away enough to see his expression as you spoke.

Shane locked his dark eyes with yours, staring at you intently for a second, before he exhaled deeply and licked his lips. 

“Yeah?” 

A flutter of excitement coursed through your belly and had your legs squeezing together at his hungry smirk. 

“Uh huh.” You looked at him with the same challenging smile that you'd sent him when he'd first looked at you. You moved in until your lips grazed his. “You think you're up to it?” 

One of Shane's eyebrows lifted at your challenging tone, while he ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth. 

“Come on,” he rumbled with a touch of warning at your challenge, and ripped himself away from you with a jerky movement while he grabbed your wrist.

For a second, you were confused about why he was taking you away from your car, but quickly realized that he was walking towards his own. He unlocked a dark truck that was only standing a few slots away from yours, and opened the passenger side. 

He pulled you against him and spoke into your ear in a rough voice, “Get in.”

“Eager much?” you gloated, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth before throwing your purse onto the back seat and climbing into the truck. 

What surprised you, then, was that Shane didn’t go to the driver’s side. Instead, he reached underneath your seat and pulled on a lever before pushing the seat all the way to the back. You made a small sound of surprise as you slid back, but your breath caught in your throat as you saw Shane slip into the now roomier foot well at your feet. Your whole core tightened in delicious anticipation as you realized what he was planning once he’d closed the door. In the low light of the parking lot, you stared at each other silently for a few seconds, before his hands began moving over your thighs, pushing the dress up inch by inch. Breathing faster, you spread your legs to allow Shane to get into a better position between your feet. Your stomach tightened at Shane's pleased hum and bit down on a moan when one of his hands moved between your thighs until it disappeared under your dress. Barely a moment later, you had to suck on your bottom lip as Shane's fingers slid against your soaked panties. He groaned in the back of his throat at the feeling and pressed a finger against you to get more of it. 

“Shit, talkin' 'bout eager, huh.” 

There was no time to reply, since his hands were now running along your outer thighs underneath your dress until he met your panties. You lifted your hips and watched Shane as he methodically removed your underwear, one leg at a time. Then he grabbed you by the hips and pulled until you were reclining against the backrest and your ass was sitting at the very edge of the seat. Shane glanced up at you with that same hungry expression as earlier, holding eye contact for a moment, then sank his face between your thighs. 

One thing was certain, he wanted this as much as you did, since he went in with no hesitation or restraint whatsoever. His tongue slid through your folds a few times, gathering your juices with ravenous passes. He groaned into your skin, which had you crying out and rocking your hips into his face. He moaned as you did it, which had you peering down at him. His mouth and parts of his nose were pressed between your outer lips, licking and sucking up and down around you. Panting, you grabbed the back of his head and lifted your hips while pushing his face into you, until you felt your clit bumping against his nose and sliding over it. If Shane was surprised by your action, he didn’t show it. He grunted at your long moan of pleasure while you kept him against you and rubbed yourself along his nose with small rotations of your hips before going back down and receiving the attention of his mouth again. You suddenly realized why he’d gotten you in the passenger seat. He could have easily laid you out on the back seat to eat you out, but you wouldn’t have been able to grind against his face like you were right now. He had definitely understood the assignment. This was as close to riding his face as it got in this situation. 

“Shane, fuck!” you cried out, as his lips surrounded your clit and started sucking at it with growing pressure, before circling it with his tongue. 

Shane growled in reply and pushed one of your thighs further open to get even closer to you. Lifting one of your hands to the head rest, you grabbed onto it for leverage as you kept your other hand over the back of Shane’s head while you moved against his mouth. Breathing loudly through your moans of pleasure, you stared down as Shane welcomed your erratic thrusts with his tongue. He loosely wrapped an arm around one of your thighs to keep you centered and looked up at you. There was just enough light to see his features, and you found yourself unable to look away. He was silently encouraging you, his eyes taking in your expression of ecstasy as your hips began moving more wildly, slipping and sliding over his mouth and his nose. 

“Shane, Shane, Shane,” you chanted, as you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. 

Shane groaned in a low tone as his name kept spilling over your lips. 

“Fuck, please don’t stop, Shane. So close… I’m so close,” you cried, with your voice getting gradually higher. 

“Mhm, mhm,” Shane growled encouragingly, watching you attentively as he worked tirelessly with the wild pumps of your hips. 

Your whole body went rigid as you exploded over Shane’s mouth with a long cry, your back arching up while you gripped at the head rest. As soon as the highest moment of your orgasm began to subside, you began to tremble from the intensity of it while Shane slowly slid his tongue over your drenched flesh. 

“Fuck,” you uttered with a gasped out laugh, as your body sank into the seat and Shane kissed the inside of your thigh. 

His low chuckle had you glancing down at him through hooded eyes and finding him smirking with his nose, mouth, and chin glistening with your juices. Without really thinking about it, you sat up and slid back in your seat to catch Shane’s face between your hands and lick a broad path from his chin and up to the middle of his nose. Shane groaned and caught your mouth in a messy kiss, sliding his tongue over yours while your hands went to his fly. To your surprise, it was already open. His dick was damp with pre-come, which you gathered over the head and used to stroke down along his whole shaft. Shane grunted at your touch and bucked into your closing fist as he pushed you back against the seat. A second later and you were yelping in surprise as the back rest flew back, putting you in an almost flat position. Shane was holding himself above you, one knee between your legs on the seat and one hand braced next to your head. You gasped as he used his other hand to slide three fingers along your entrance, before he brought it to his length and began stroking himself with the help of your slickness. Just from his expression, you could tell that he was already close. With a small grin, you brought his face down to yours and teasingly drew your tongue along the seam of his lips, quickly dipping into his parting mouth, before you licked over the bridge of his gorgeous nose.

“Fuck, you’re somethin’ else,” he grunted through gritted teeth before he groaned as he hung his head and came in hot spurts over your thighs. 

Humming contentedly, you watched his eyebrows lowering and his nose scrunching up as his body was rocked by pleasure. When he slowly opened his eyes, you pulled his face down for a languid kiss, which he instantly answered. 

After a minute, Shane rose on his hands and contemplated you with a slow smile but remained quiet. You watched him back and lifted a hand to stroke it lightly over his nose, smiling at his small chuckle, before he finally moved to collapse into the driver’s seat. Sitting up as well, you pulled on the lever to get the back rest up again and looked for your panties. You ignored the mess between your legs and your thighs as you adjusted your dress; you’d take care of that at home. As you moved around, Shane observed you silently while you retrieved your purse, put the panties inside, and ultimately opened the door. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said with an impish grin after getting out and leaning against the open door.

Shane snorted and hung his head with a little shake before his gaze returned to you. 

“Anytime,” he replied after a beat, his expression telling you that he meant it. 

Laughing softly as a frisson of satisfaction ran through you, you nodded and took a step back to close the door. You purposely didn’t look back as you walked towards your car and got inside.

Who knew, if there was a next time, maybe you'll consider giving him your name. After all, he did make you scream his. 

[moonlight-canavalia]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader/Self-Insert

CW: 18+, P in V Sex, Possessive Geto, Stalking, Dirty Talking, Petnames, Teasing, Chasing in Woods

WC: 5,918

Summary: Geto swore that he fell in love with you from the moment he first saw you. But in his mind the definition of love gets twisted, the love he feels runs deep and so intense it would burn your skin from a mere touch. The problem with it is this impending sense of urgency to protect you and shield you from the world. A gem like you must be protected at all costs. That's why he has to worm his way into your life, gently. But what happens the moment he finally gets you alone in a remote place?

Falling for the popular, sweet and charming man at your college shouldn’t have ended like this. With you running through the woods, the bottom of your feet getting cut up and you screaming so loud for help your throat felt like it was on fire.

Mistake number one you made was thinking you could outsmart him and this game he had. He wasn't gonna let you go that easily. Not after all the trouble he went for you. This was Geto Suguru's favorite part of all this.

The chase.

He wanted this, craved this. The way you made his blood pump was addicting. He’s the hunter and you’re the prey.

Letting you get a good distance between you and his cabin. Little did you know that during this time of the year the other cabins were empty. Most owners only come a few times a year to vacation. This is why he waited until now to start his entire plan of bringing you here. He didn't want anyone to intrude on his fun. He knew these woods like the back of his hands, he wanted you to run and hide. To try your best.

Geto had been studying you for a year now, mannerism, friends, routine; everything. He wanted to know it all. He'd been slowly weaving his way into your daily life and you welcomed him with arms wide open. You looked so sweet, he wanted you for himself ever since he first saw you. This world is such a cruel place, he had to protect you. Even if that meant protecting you from yourself and locking you up for himself.

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary with Geto, not that you ever noticed. He was always so sweet and kind to everyone, so helpful; and very popular amongst the girls at college. But he was never one to pursue just anyone, that's what took you by surprise. Geto could have anyone he wanted, without a doubt, so when you were the one to catch his eye, you couldn’t resist falling for him. Memorizing your schedule, getting you food and drinks, meeting your friends, everyone loved him. Your friends get on well with him and his friend group. It really felt like a dream. That’s why you immediately gave him a ‘yes’ when he asked you if you wanted to spend a weekend with just him, in his family's cabin.

You two had officially been dating for 2 months now, what better way to celebrate that than a getaway with just the both of you.

The drive up the mountains was silent, Geto focusing on the road while you are captivated by the scenery around. The green, yellow, orange colored trees mixing in with the gray colored sky is a beautiful sight. Bringing your attention to your boyfriends features you can’t fight the urge to just admire him. Sensing your eyes on him he speaks in a teasing voice “d’you you like what you see, pretty girl?.”

Looking away feeling heat creep up your neck, you didn’t notice Geto had moved one of his hands, and he was now resting it up on yours. Bringing your hand up to his lips he leaves a kiss on your knuckles. You can’t resist the big smile that adorns your face.

For the rest of the car ride nothing else is said, music softly playing on the radio now. Admiring the views up the mountain. Rain started, gently at first, raindrops decorating the road and car windows. The way they distorted the landscape around made it look like a watercolor painting.

As more time went by the harder raindrops fell, thunder crackling in the sky above. Not affecting your mood or Suguru’s, you think of it as white noise.

Lost faraway in your own thoughts filled with contempt you can’t start to imagine what your sweet boyfriend is thinking of.

Geto’s mind is plagued with thoughts about what will happen tonight. He’ll make you his tonight and he’s so sure of it. The urge he’s fighting back to just park the car at the edge of the woods surrounding the road and stripping you naked is getting harder and harder. He can’t wait to feel your cunt clamping down on his cock; imagining the noises you’re gonna make have him biting his lip to hide the moan that wants to escape. Feeling somewhat bad about his thoughts as his pants feel tighter, he takes a quick glance at you –you're just looking out the window– you look so innocent…he just wants to ruin it.

Finally , you’ve arrived at your destination. It’s nighttime already, the full moon high up casting its white glow over the trees.

“Stay here while I go in and turn the lights on, baby”

The yellow warm hues of the light posts outside keep you company while Geto makes his way inside. Taking a look around you, you notice how dark and thick the surrounding woods are — eerily quiet too— the only thing being heard is the sizzling sound of the rain hitting the ground. You can make out some other cabins scattered here and there, but none have a light on..

‘Looks like no one else is around’ you think to yourself.

While lost in thought you hadn’t noticed Geto stepping out of the cabin. When you turn to look out your window you see him standing there. One hand in his pocket and the other holding an umbrella he must have found inside. Opening the door for you he asks –smirking– “See something interesting.”

Putting your hand on your chest to try and calm the rapid beating of your heart from the unintentional jump scare, you give him an awkward laugh. “You just scared me there, but I was just looking around. I got curious.”

Chuckling at your answer he gives you his hand to guide you inside.

“Come on baby, be careful I don’t want you getting wet” –adding under his breath– “not this type at least”

Tilting your head up to take a better look at him asking “What was that Suguru?”

Kissing the top of your head, throwing an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him he gives you one of his pretty smiles and that’s enough to make you forget whatever was said.

Getting inside quickly you both start taking off your shoes to not track any mud inside the house. When you go to take off your jacket, you feel Suguru’s big hands lay on your shoulders, halting your movements.

“Let me help you” he whispers next to your ear.

Helping you shrug your jacket off, he slides his hands up and down your figure. Feeling his warm hands makes you shiver and you hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. He notices everything that has to do with you.

“Is my girl cold? Or just nervous. Hm? ” He speaks in a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Is all you mutter as you cross your arms turning to look directly at him.

“You look so intimidating,” –he chortled sarcastically– “such a cutie.”

Rolling your eyes you wait for him to put the jackets away. Unsure of where to go, even though it’s just you two you wait on him to give you permission to look around the cabin.

“C’mon let me show you around” grabbing your hand he leads the way.

That’s how you end up in his bed. Big floor to ceiling windows looking out at the woods. Rain pelting the glass windows as thunder roars outside. Clothes already coming off, desperate touches and groans between you two. The only light in the room comes from the lightning illuminating the sky ever so often.

Kissing down your throat, groping one of your still covered breasts while using the other one to keep himself stabilized he looks at you with wild eyes. At last you’re under him, he’s touching your body, he’s the one causing your heart to beat so fast against your ribcage, small mewls escaping your pretty mouth, he finally gets to have you.

Feeling his warm lips on your neck gently sucking, you know you’re gonna have to cover up some marks. But right now you can’t bring yourself to care about appearances. You know girls want to be you every time they see Suguru doting on you, handing you gifts, showing you off, giving you kisses every time he could. A hand always around you, he always needed to be touching you someway. It thrilled you how dedicated he is to you, even giving you space when you felt too overwhelmed. It was your first real relationship, of course you wanted everything to be perfect, but it didn’t shake off the feeling of not being enough for him. So what better opportunity for him to make you understand what you meant to him, a trip alone together was perfect. He had eyes for no one else, you were a Goddess amongst men, a treasure, his treasure .

Shoving his tongue past your mouth in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

“Can I take off your shirt?” he asks, panting as if he had run a marathon. Pausing to take a deep breath you nod your head. Groaning as he sees more of your uncovered body you bring your hands up almost instinctively covering up. But Geto’s even quicker stopping your hands. “Don’t cover, not from me baby, I want to see you . Look I’ll leave your bra on for now” he says in a teasing tone while pulling on the band resting at your back. Bringing himself up to rest on his heels he makes work of taking off your pants, leaving you in your underwear.

Big hands resting on either of your calves he makes you spread your legs to accommodate his muscular build. Resting on his stomach, he brings his mouth near your throbbing heat. Feeling his warm tongue run up and down your clothed cunt, the mess of your essence and his saliva is making your mind go crazy. Grinding yourself against his mouth, he laughs. It’s sloppy the way he makes out with you there, while your legs shake wanting him to pull away the offending fabric keeping you from his mouth. Toes curling, and small whines of his name and ‘please’ here and there has him planting quick pecks over your still covered pussy. Staring at the wet mess in what little light there is has him burying his face deeper into you. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent.

“S-suguru what are you…”

“Fuck, you even smell sweet. You’re just the sweetest little thing ever. And all mine. I bet this pussy tastes divine.”

Your lovely boyfriend usually avoids cursing around you, so hearing him speak his mind so freely stirs a fire in you.

“I bet you want more” he says, moving your pantie to the side “and I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Tilting his head to the side, resting it on his fist, he uses his pointer finger first. Dragging it up and down your wet cunt collecting your essence. Focusing on your little nub, adding some pressure while he draws lazy circles, he slips two fingers in you. Resting now on his elbows he uses one hand to finger you, not taking his eyes off of the mess you’re making on his hand.

Oh he really can’t let you go. You’re too helpless, this world is too dangerous for such a treasure like yourself. There’s no escaping him now. You’ll finally be his completely. Mind, body and soul. Everything of yours will belong to him just like he belongs to you.

Diving in the warmth of his mouth surprises you. Puckering his lips lightly sucking your clit between his lips. You’re squeaking in embarrassment while he’s moaning at the fact that he finally tastes you.

“S-sugu—aahh fuck” you try pushing his head off, embarrassment creeping in at his lewd acts.

Suguru does not like it one bit. He’s been so patient, not wanting to push you to do anything you didn’t want. He’s not going to let you ruin this for him. Just because you’re a little embarrassed.

He just started how else are you going to take his cock if he doesn’t prep you with at least one orgasm first.

Grunting at your weak attempts to get him off he stretches his hands to grab yours— “Don’t” comes his stern voice.

Interlacing your fingers between his, he gently squeezes reassuring you this was fine.

His free hand is rubbing small circles on your hip. Gently he starts trailing kisses between your thighs, lightly nipping your soft skin between his teeth. Not enough pressure to cause you pain; just enough to have you shuddering waiting for his lips to be against where you most want him.

Letting go of your hand he rubs your legs,the warmth of his palms spreading all over your lower parts, bringing his hands to the back of your knees. Pushing your legs towards your chest, the wind is suddenly knocked out of you. His ravenous gaze focusing solely on your slick covered pussy. Silently he collects a glob of spit in his mouth and lets it fall over your cunt. The warmth of it surprises you. Feeling so dirty you start whining calling out to him. But all Suguru does is shush you. Letting one of your legs go he spreads your folds apart with his free hand, feeling your warmth and skin under his fingers, your most sensitive parts and you’re letting him. Trusting him this much. It almost makes Suguru sentimental.

Dragging two fingers inside your quivering sex your boyfriend starts slowly, just to pull those tiny gasps and small moans from you. He wanted to draw this out but your hips seem to have a mind of their own. Grounding your sopping cunt against his fingers. He’s shocked at how much you’re enjoying this. His hand has stilled, you’re doing all the work now, his pants feel tighter and tighter with each passing second. He can’t help the loud groan that escapes his lips, immediately removing his fingers from inside you, stealing your high, that was so close. A few more seconds and you would have jumped off to the waves of pleasure. But you can’t process it for more than a few seconds. Getos lips have replaced his hands. Sucking, licking and slurping your cunt like it’s his last meal. You feel his wet hand grabbing on to your thigh, it’s almost painful. Blunt nails digging into your soft flesh. But the pleasure he’s making you feel is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You feel the incoming waves of pleasure getting nearer, that band inside you getting tighter at the verge of snapping. What pushes you over the edge is Getos desperate “please cum baby, please cum, need you to.”

That whiny tone in his voice makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

So desperate, just wanting your pleasure is all it takes to have you finally seeing stars. Like a taut band finally snapping, your back arches off the mattress, almost screaming with immeasurable pleasure. Writhing from the force of your orgasm.

Gasping for air you bring your hands to cover your eyes. A little embarrassed about everything that occurred. It was the first time Geto and you were intimate in any way. Your heart is still beating loudly, when you hear Suguru chuckling

Caging you under his body, he pecks both of your hands “are you okay?”

All you offer back is a nod.

“Come on baby, use your words so I know you’re okay. And please look at me.”

Taking a deep breath you finally look at him. Both of you smile. Burying one of your hands in his hair while the other one is wrapped around his shoulders you bring him closer to you. Wanting to kiss him and he gives it to you. Resting his body weight on you, he ruts his hips against yours. His boxers are covered in precum and your arousal. The heat between you two is almost suffocating, an all consuming need to be closer with one another. Rain outside pelts against the windows, but inside yours and Geto’s little bubble all that is heard is the sound of your lips smacking against one anothers. Small moans littered here and there.

Biting his bottom lip he groans, enjoying the small pain mixed with that vice grip you have of his hair. Making his way down to your neck he litters it with hot, opened mouthed kisses.

”You look so pretty under me, I wanna know how you look on top now. Can we make that happen princess? Can we, please? You’re just so pretty and sweet.” he speaks slowly and low near your ear in a raspy tone. Low moan escaping his mouth at his own words, hand raking down your body. Mapping and memorizing every bump and curve his hands roam over.

“You're taking these off tho” he says, leaving a quick peck below your earlobe. A second of confusion washed over you before you processed what he’s doing. Making himself comfortable spreading his legs on either side of you, trapping you under him. Palming his erection “go on baby, help me out” gesturing to his black briefs.

Big doe eyes looking back at him, the heat radiating off of his body unto yours is almost suffocating.The remnants of your prior orgasm still thruming through your body. You want–no, you need more of it, of him. Suguru can easily become addicting to anyone near him. The sound of his sweet but commanding voice, his presence, his words can make even the most defiant person pliable to his whims. His lips curl at your almost timid face.

Chuckling to himself – “Okay, I’ll do it baby, don’t worry.”

But the moment he reaches to his sides, you stop him. Bashfully stating you’re going to do it. Raising his eyebrow he just raises his hands in an almost surrendering way. You loop your fingers on his waist band. Taking in a small shuddering breath you pull them down, finally freeing his confined cock. You don't know what comes over you, witnessing his thick cock hit his stomach just snaps something in you. With one hand you grab his cock and with the other you push his hip. Hoping he gets the signal; and of course he did. He’s not dumb.

“It’s fine baby we can do that another time” he voices almost hesitantly. There’s no doubt he wants to fuck your mouth. But he’s desperate to be inside you, he just wanted to tease you a bit more before. He’s thrilled that you initiated this though. The raven haired man has spent countless nights fisting his cock to the thought of your lips wrapped around his girth. However he still wanted to let you know you didn’t have to do it. He wasn’t so sure how much he could hold back. It was really up to you.

“Please”

Perversely saccharine is the tone presented in the simple word you spoke. On-brand for Suguru since he met you, he gives in without much of a fight.

“Just let me know if I get carried away, pretty girl.” he tells you while leaning one hand against the bed's headboard. Getting comfortable, getting his cock closer to your mouth.

“Yeah” you say meekly.

Suguru hisses at the warm feeling of your tongue. Fighting his urges to just sink all of his inches down your throat. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his head; he focuses on the kitten licks you’re giving him. Not wanting to push you too quickly or make you uncomfortable, he lets you set the pace.

You, with your shining eyes, looking up at him, you let your curious mouth start trailing kisses against his flushed warm tip. Pre-cum covering his length. –Suguru is surprised with how much is coming out. That’s how riled up you get him. Nervously but sure of what you desire. Opening your mouth, wrapping your soft lips around his tip, you gently suckle. Throwing his head back you take it as a sign to take a little more into your mouth. Cautiously Geto moves forward, resting his hand more firmly on the headboard so you can access more of him. You appreciate it, that way you don't have to keep raising your head as much. Bobbing your head up and down to the best of your abilities he’s losing the last of his restraints. The slurping sounds are obscene, the feeling of your nails digging against his thighs are maddening. Wanting more he unknowingly starts moving his hips forward, the sound of you suddenly gagging brings him back.

Bucking his hips back —“ Fuck , fuck , I’m sorry baby”

You just smile up at him, small tears at the corner of your eyes, he hears your hoarse voice say “it’s okay.” Before you get the opportunity to continue your previous ministrations, he moves between your legs.

“I think she’s ready now, hm? Don’t you think so, pretty girl?” he questions you in a syrupy sweet voice, while he drags two fingers between your folds and inserts them gently. “Look at how easy they go in.”

“S-suguru, stop teasing and put it in already.” you say in a whiny voice. And who was he to deny you any longer. Removing his fingers, he makes it a show how wet you are by flashing the webbing of your essence between his fingers as he makes a V shape. Coating his cock in your essence, while looking directly at you. Even with the embarrassment flooding your entire body you do not break eye contact with him. There's no hiding from his sharp eyes.

Crawling up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He assures you he’s going to be gentle. Slowly Geto starts inching his cock in you. Giving you time to adjust to his size. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead he whispers words of encouragement. His shoulders are shaking as he fights his desperation to move like an animal against you. No matter how desperate he is for you, he’s not about to hurt you or make it uncomfortable.

Once he’s fully inside he lets out a choked sound. Enveloped in your warmth now it takes all of his strength not to fuck you into the mattress. Closing his eyes he tries to level his breathing, what brings him back is the feeling of your hands on the sides of his face. Your touch feather light against his warm skin. Looking down at you he smiles before he gently starts rocking his hips against yours. His jet black hair is everywhere around you both as he looms over you. Suguru wants this to be memorable for the both of you. The bed creaks under the both of you, giving an edge to the room and rain going on outside. The mess of tangled limbs and desperate moans reaching every corner of the room. Lost in these new sensations your bodies are going through together you don’t even remember ending up on top of him. But he’s not about to start complaining.

“That’s it sweetheart, keep bouncing on my cock” he says with one hand resting comfortably behind his head.

Your thighs felt on fire, movement going slower than before. “Tired” you say hiding your face in the crook of his neck, hips coming to a stop. You sound sweeter than honey, and he can’t help but want to baby you and take care of all your needs and wants. But not without a bit of teasing first, it’s just in his nature.

“Aw my baby is tired” Suguru spoke in his always soft, caring, voice. Kissing the side of your head he instructs you to sit up again. When you start whining that you’re tired he gives your ass a hard spank. “I told you to sit up, not to do anything else, now did I? You gotta listen better.”

You feel his hands come down rubbing your back, squeezing your hips, signaling you to sit up. Once you do as he instructed you feel his hold on you tighten even more. A bruising strength behind his large hands, you know his fingertips will leave indents marked behind on your soft skin. His strength always throws you off, it’s always there, but you sometimes forget just how strong Suguru is. He plants his feet flat and firm on the bed, and starts thrusting up into you. His ironclad hold on you moving you up and down just how he wanted. He’s using you as his own personal fleshtoy. And you can’t bring yourself to care. Too lost in the overpowering sensation. Your moans mixing with the sound of the wild thunder and rain just outside. He wants to keep his noises down to a minimum, just wanting to drown in everything that has to do with you. Your sounds, the way you’re making him feel, how warm you are, the wild look in your face — he gets glimpses of when lightning strikes outside.

Your bodies move in sync against one another, as if your bodies already know each other. Suguru recognizes that he’s at the tipping point of his orgasm, and from how hard you’re gripping him, you're right there with him.

Head feeling light with the impending feeling of your orgasm, planting your hands harshly on his chest, nails digging into his skin leaving a pink trail in their wake.

“That’s it baby, mark me.” your boyfriend utters between sharp inhales as you let your hips rise and fall on his cock. The sweet feeling of being stretched and full is inescapable. Your words seem to be stuck in your throat as you start rolling your hips. That previous ache and burning sensation you felt earlier is gone. Rutting desperately against one another he throws his head back against the mess of pillows, groaning while your screams get higher and higher in pitch.

The intensity of your shared orgasm has you both clinging to one another, hips involuntary moving. No words are spoken for a few minutes, the only sound enveloping the room is your ragged breath calming down with the rain outside. Running his hand up your back, he tangles his long fingers in your hair, angling your face towards his to kiss you. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing, biting one another in an almost animalistic way.

Once the mess of body fluids feels like too much on your skin, you break the kiss. He chases after more in an almost desperate way; and you have to tell him you want to take a shower. Carrying you to the bathroom, he tells you to give the shower a second so the hot water kicks in. Taking a quick glance over his body you see the evidence of your previous activities over his body. Your nails left scratched, his hair has knots and he’s covered in sweat.

“You really like what you see, pretty girl. Can’t stop looking can you? Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere.” He teases, while walking up to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. Bringing your hand up to his mouth he leaves a kiss and tugs you gently with him to the shower.

Suguru’s hands feel amazing against your skin as he helps you shower. His caresses are gentle and meaningful; no ulterior motive. Just utter devotion as a thank you for finally trusting him enough to give your body to him. Washing your hair he asks if he’s using an okay amount of pressure, if he’s going too fast or too slow for you. At your assuring words that he’s doing “amazing” you let yourself be pampered. Returning the same care and gesture you wash him and his hair too. The little bubble of warmth feels like a dream, one you don’t want to wake up from.

You would have never thought a great night would change for the worse in the span of an hour. From a dream to a nightmare, Suguru’s possessive behavior making an entrance like never before. Now that he had you mind, body and soul he couldn't just let you go. A short conversation with him letting you know who he doesn’t want around you anymore has sirens blasting in your mind. As he kept going on about how people look at you, how they want you, how you could get hurt if he’s not there because you are “so defenseless”, you grew uncomfortable. Voicing him your worries and how you’ll be fine and how your friends could be trusted didn’t sit right with him. Your anger got the best of you, starting a shouting match with him, you tell him to take you back home. How you don’t want to deal with “whatever this is” right now you see something in him snap. His tender loving gaze was replaced by something you can’t quite explain. Suguru’s eyes seem devoid of all the light and warmth you are so used to.

“Suguru, if you don’t take me home, I’ll walk back.” You try to threaten, but the shakiness in your voice gives you away. You're not sure where you are, you don’t have the first clue as to how to get back. He knows this, that’s why he raises his not breaking eye contact and laughs.

“Since I love you so much, I’ll give you a head start. Run baby, start running. Let’s see how far you can get.” the ever confident male says, taunting you.

It’s cute to him. The way your eyes fill with tears, opened wide. Suguru Geto will catch you. He knows these woods like the back of his hand. Wearing his once charming smile he starts counting.

“One,two,three — Ya know… I’m being polite. ” he says, wearing a diabolical smile.

That’s where it started clicking to your frozen —by fear— body. He’s serious. Run away, get as far away from him as possible.

Panic sets in looking everywhere, you’re in a place you haven’t been before, you really don’t know where you are. Just wearing a thin nightgown you start running, without a clear direction in mind. Screaming for help, but no one would hear you. You two were alone.

The ground beneath your feet is wet and cold. Rocks digging themselves under you, but with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you don’t feel how they’re cutting your soles. Tree branches scratching your exposed arms, you don’t register the cuts and bruises starting to adorn your body. Your lungs feel like they are on fire. Feeling like a fish out of water with how quick your breathes are, your heart beats harder each passing second. A sense like it's going to come out of your chest at any moment. You have to keep pushing yourself, there has to be help somewhere. Someone has to be near enough to hear your pleading.

“Keep running” is what you keep commanding yourself to do.You aren’t sure how long you’ve been running for anymore. Your body feels flushed, your head dizzy, affecting your eyesight.

Thunder lighting the skies above you with the earth rumbling with the immense sounds of thunder. Realization suddenly hits you, how deep have you wandered into the woods? There hasn't been one animal seen, the storm could have them hiding. But not seeing even a deer or running rabbit frightened you. What other types of dangers are hiding here. Isn’t the lack of animals a sign of even bigger danger?

You should’ve taken this as a sign of what a big threat he was. —Suguru Geto had an aura around him that could send anyone or anything away.— The stillness of it all while the storm grew its strength, added more fear to your already trembling body. Wanting to buy yourself some time to think you hide behind the biggest tree you see. Sizing it up quickly you disregard the idea of climbing it. There’s no tree branch low enough for you to grab and aid your way up with. You’re not about to hug it with how wide it is and risk a potential fall. Broken bones, a storm, and Suguru looking for you? No.

Suguru…

His face suddenly rushes to the forefront of your mind. Was there something you overlooked? Did he ever give off any warning signs of who he really was?

Did he even keep his word and let you have a head start? Is he still waiting at the edge of the woods?

Or is he silently watching you from a distance?

Your ears start to ring, shivering, you feel your head start to spin, tasting bile at the back of your throat. Taking quick and shallow breaths.

You’re hyperventilating .

Straightening your back against the tree bark you feel its rough texture digging itself into your skin. Nightgown getting caught in it. Trying to regulate your breathing, you search in your head any reasoning for what is happening. It’s a nightmare . It has got to be a nightmare. As you dig your fingers deep into your scalp, tugging at your roots the stinging sensation only serves as a reminder that this is real .

Spiraling thinking about every interaction you’ve had with Geto since the first time you saw him, he pursued you, he went out of his way to be your friend, then your boyfriend. Everybody adored him. How did it turn into this? There had always been something weird surrounding him. But nothing that would have let you believe you’d be going through this shit . He was a tad too overprotective. Yet not enough to raise red flags or have any alarms going off around you.

This wasn’t fair.

Not really surprising, but Suguru had gone after you, after waiting a few minutes. He did stand true to his word, giving you enough time to create a distance between you two before he started his chase.

But you need this moment to think about your next move.

Something snapped and that grabbed your attention, frantically looking around you don’t see any sign of him.

But the moment you go to move, you feel something press behind you. Dark eyes meeting with your wide ones “wrong move” he says, wrapping his big arms around you. Holding you against his chest. “Look at you now, you got all dirty and hurt. See what I meant when I said I need to keep you safe?” You try kicking and scratching him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. His sheer strength and the realization that he can hurt you if he desires is soul crushing.

“Let me carry you back” he whispers against your ear “don’t try anything else. I don’t want you getting into more trouble.”

All you can bring yourself to muster up is a nod. The raw feeling of your throat is preventing you from screaming more. Feeling his lips against your hair you recoil, but Suguru doesn’t say a thing. Carrying you bridal style back to the cabin. You’re not sure of what’s going on inside his head right now, what’s his thought process or plans. He just seems content to have you in his arms.

You’ll need to think of something to escape.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!

Do not repost or translate my words.

Divider by anitalenia

[pt2change]

my only one — park jihyo

pairing: mom!jihyo x mom!reader

genre: parents au, fluff, jihyo gets jealous, and it’s ceo!jihyo, she’s a hardworking woman, but always makes time for her family: ’))

word count: 1,060

↣ jihyo masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

it’s honestly not jihyo’s fault that she has to work on jay’s first day of kindergarten……

she was supposed to have the day off but things happened at the office and now she HAS to go in

but she put on a brave face and acted like it didn’t matter

……

but it did!!!!!

in fact she even cried out of frustration while she showered

she was missing her son’s first ever day of school

jihyo saw him in the morning before leaving and she just couldn’t bare the thought of missing him when he gets out in the afternoon :(

you and jihyo lived a few streets down from the school, so you ended up walking jay to school in the morning

you told jihyo that you were able to pick him up again when he gets out

which was fine but jihyo hoped she would make it out early

it’s 3pm when jihyo finds herself parked in front of the school waiting for you and jay so you could all ride home together

she leans on outside of her car after receiving your text about being at the entrance of the school waiting for the bell to ring

and minutes later the bell rings and jihyo spots jay walking out with his large backpack on

jihyo just can’t help but smile to herself when she sees the backpack bouncing up and down on his shoulders

or how his hair is ruffled compared to how nice and sleek it was this morning

or how he’s talking and laughing with another boy who jihyo assumes must be is a classmate

as jihyo looks past her son, shortly behind him is you, and her heart begins to flutter

you and jihyo met during a college class you both shared, and it took you both a while to come to terms with your feelings for each other and begin dating

3 years later and jihyo decided to propose, and that’s where you both are now; happily married with a little boy

and jihyo couldn’t be happier with how her future turned out

you were glowing, having your eyes set on your son as you talked with a man…

a man who jihyo can only assume was the father of the other boy jay was playing with

jihyo leans off her car and crosses her arms

and when you bend over slightly to hear what jay is trying to you amongst all the commotion of the other kids yelling and laughing

that’s when jihyo notices the man eyeing you up and down….

jihyo feels a hint of jealousy and anger because he totally just checked you out…..

and you turn back to the man to speak to him quickly, jay looks around and sees jihyo standing by her car

jay’s entire face lights up, “mommy!”

and jihyo pouts and feels her heart flutter again at the sight of her son running towards her

she squats down, opening her arms in time for jay to cling onto her, “hi baby”

she wraps her arms around jay and his tiny hands latched onto the back of jihyo’s shoulders

you smile to yourself as you watch from a distance

as you watch your wife and son hug, you notice jihyo staring at you

so you say goodbye to the man you had been making small conversation with and begin walking towards jihyo and jay

jihyo glares over to the tall man who’s holding his child’s hand

….. and he is checking out your ass as your walking towards her

jihyo’s focus changes when she hears your voice, “i thought it was just gonna be me picking him up”

and jihyo hikes jay on her hip, “i couldn’t miss the chance of picking him up on his first day”

she tickles his side making him giggle uncontrollably

right when you get closer to jihyo, she uses her spare hand to pull you in and gives you a hard, deep kiss

you laugh against her lips and and tap her on the shoulder, pushing her away slightly

your cheeks heat up, “hey, there’s people watching!”

jihyo lowers her hand to your waist, and grins “good”

and that’s when you put 2 and 2 together

“oh my god,” you cover your mouth as you let out a laugh, “you’re jealous”

jihyo shakes her head no, but you raise your eyebrows at her

she smacks her lips together, “he was staring at your ass!”

there’s a small gasp from jay’s mouth, “ooo, mommy said a bad word”

you open your lips and look back and forth between your wife and son

you furrowed your eyebrows, “yeah, mommy’s gonna be in trouble for saying a bad word”

jihyo faces jay, “oh you’re gonna snitch on me, huh?”

she tickles him again, and he squirms out of her grip and runs over to you holding your hand

you walk with jay to the back of the car and open the door, buckling him in

jihyo closes the car door, and right before she walks over to the drivers side you grab her by the hips

you kiss her softly, wrapping one hand around her waist and the other around her shoulders

you pull away from her soft lips and smile at her, “don’t be so jealous, babe. no one can ever make me feel the way you do.”

jihyo pecks your cheek, “you’re gonna make it up to me later.”

you nodded getting into the passenger seat, and jihyo makes her way around to the drivers side

and just before she gets in, she waves at the other parent who you had been speaking to.

……..

………

when it’s 11 pm and you and jihyo are laying next to each other in bed, she presses your side

“so what did you two talk about?”

you jokingly roll your eyes, “oh my god, you’re so jealous, it’s not even funny anymore.”

jihyo lays her arm over your abdomen, “but i just want to kn-”

she stops talking when you’ve turned to face her

“you know what?” you reach over to her give her a peck on the cheek

you move down to her neck and start kissing it slowly, “i’m pretty sure i have to make it up to now, huh?”

and you place kisses all over her neck and shoulders

“mmhm, you do”

[sadbastard-bug]

Your protector (yandere simon x reader)

Simon first meets you waiting for the train, he's on his way home from a walk and notices you a couple benches away. it's creepy to stare but he can't help it. Your the first person he's ever seen at the station this late, a while into the wait you start shifting around almost nervous. He tries to look away the second you turn your head but it's no use. You make eye contact. A panicked feeling rises in him once you start walking towards him. You smile looking a bit unsure. He just looks back.

"Not to be a bother but do you know how long till the train gets here?" Your voice is apologetic like your actually worried about annoying him. It clicks in his head why he's never seen you, you must be a newer resident. he's able to make about more of you now that the distance is shorter. Your wearing a uniform, he tries to recall the place it's for but the name never comes to him.

You appear tired and your hairs out of place like you were rushing around all day.

Your actually kind of cute?

You tilt your head, even more nervous. Oh shit! He's been silent this whole time just staring hasn't he. He forces something out, cringing at his own voice as it cracks. "It uh..it shouldn't take much longer.." you smile and let out a relieved breath. "Good! Good" you adjust your bag strap and turn to face the tracks. You don't move though, you stay there standing next to him. He feels himself sweating. Is that all? Should he make small talk? Do you even want to talk to him anymore? He tries to convince himself your visible skittishness is from being new and not him but he still feels a bit like a creep.

You stand by the wall together for a good time. He glances over multiple times milling over things to say. This is the first time in a long time he's been near someone who doesn't seem hostile. He wants to reach out and talk to you but no matter what he tries his voice just won't come out. Then the train shows up.

The noise pulls him forward as you both enter the car. He turns to you to say something, anything but your not there. No, instead you've already moved to the back and taken a seat. Realistically he knows he can still try and socialize but something in his gut tells him he's missed his chance, he gives up. Sitting in his normal seat, he puts on music, and leans his head against the window desperately trying to forget he's not alone in the train.

This isn't the last time you ride though. He sees you several times but he stops short of striking up conversation. The most that happens each time is you smile or wave at him before going back to your waiting. He never stops watching you. Time after time he stares. You arrive and take a seat at the same bench. Sometimes you have a book, sometimes it's your phone, and sometimes you simply sit there, hands in your lap. He never approaches you but that doesn't stop his mind from racing. He thinks about you a lot, mainly questions he wishes he could ask.

Do you live in the same town as him? Why do you get here so late? Do you work night shift? Do you go to school? Do you go to his school? Does he live near you? Do you have any friends? Are you seeing someone?

Slowly he learns more about you from a distance, simple stuff at first. He figures out where your uniforms from. He goes there not to talk but just observe. You do work late, you close actually. You always close with the same guy, you two seem freindly. Too freindly simon thinks. You both chat while locking the doors and then split up, Simon moves after you.

As days pass simon gets braver..he waits outside your work and fallows you to the station each night. Then suddenly he's following you out the station. You live pretty far from him but he doesn't mind the walk. Your home is cute and always has its lights on when you arrive. Simon never sees anyone else but he knows you can't live alone. Parent's? Siblings? Roommates? He tries to find out but the lights never stay on long enough after you get home for him to catch anyone else.

The pits of you he learns join together in his mind. Your around his age. You do attend the same college but you have zero similar classes. Simon considers switching a class or two to match. After school you head to work, you wear the uniform to class but cover the shirt with a hoodie or sweater. He stands outside never able to muster enough courage to go in. He learns the coworker is just a freind and has a girl, who you seem to be friends with too. You go home real late and go to be sleep almost right after. It's almost like he's walking you home he thinks one night. Sure your completely unaware of his presence but you probably wouldn't mind even if you did know, your freindly like that. A sweet and blissfully aware person he has his eye on. He's protecting you really! What if something happened to you in these moments where you think your alone? Normally no one's around but now you've got him! Your ever present protecter!

Maybe one day he'll be able to step from the shadows. To speak with you, hear your voice, your laughter. Hell, maybe you'll smile at him. Yeah one day he'll be close with you. You'll be his. His little darling. You won't mind his awkwardness, or how harsh he can be. You'll understand him, he just knows it! But until then he's here to protect you from a distance

____________________________________________

Okay! Uh jeez I apologize if this was short and uh kind rough but I've just gotten back into writing so bare with me. •_•

(criticism and feedback is hella appreciated though)

Also! Allow me to be honest here, I don't write yanderes. I just don't really uh jive with them ya know? But! I did forget to mention that in my request post so here for the one who wanted it! My first and last yandere x reader post! Please don't expect any more yandere stuff from me Haha! :)

I'll edit the first post.

[julianalvarez9]

CHANGE YOUR MIND / MASON MOUNT

SUMMARY: You never really liked Mason Mount, even before he came to your club. Turns out, he's a very persuasive man, who will do everything he can to change your mind.

PAIRING: mason mount x ten hag!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

WARNINGS: mason is a lovesick fool, use of ten hag as a plot device i'm so sorry

AUTHOR'S NOTE: it's been agesssss since i've posted something, so here's this! (something's that's been sitting in my drafts and i didn't dare finish for almost a month!). would reallyyyy love some feedback!

Your eyes go wide at the sight of him, resting calmly over the cap of his car, hands hiding inside his pockets. Mason looks straight out of a movie; one where the protagonist is waiting for his lover outside of their home. You try to not think about that, or about the warm feeling in your chest, as you angrily make your way towards him.

Once you reach him, you're ready to voice your concerns about his presence in your parents' home. "What are you doing here?".

The urgency in your voice only made the Englishman grin harder, if that was even possible.

He shrugs, clearly not preoccupied about the matter. "Came to see a friend, offer her a ride to work". You roll your eyes, annoyed, because obviously, this is Mason. This is the same insufferable guy you've got to know for months now, ever since he signed for Manchester United.

By looking at the watch on your wrist, and knowing your dad's entire routine, you know you two are running out of time.  "C'mon, Mount, you need to leave!", you urge, and he tilts his head in confusion. "What? Why?," as if his entire life, at least, sport related, wasn't threatened by the man about to walk out the door.

"Did you hit yourself on the way here? Did you happen to forget who I live with?".

He shrugs, again, claiming "I don't mind". A second after, "he actually likes me. More than you do, at least". It's not the first snarky remark he throws your way, but it's still too early for you to pretend he hasn't got a special capacity for getting under your skin.

"I'd like to see if he continues to like you when he sees you talking to his daughter in his front yard".

You're right about that.

Yeah, Mason is your dad's new shiny toy, awarding him with being a constant feature in the starting eleven in every United game, but you doubt he'd be alright with whatever he's trying to do. After all, he never liked any of your past boyfriends, or friends who he -somehow- recognized as undeserving of his little girl, his only daughter. "I think he will," Mason says confidently, "I'm actually a great son-in-law, you know?".

You swear it is too early in the morning to have rolled your eyes the number of times you have in his presence, during the past three minutes. You ask, hopeful that the sly remark works to get him off your back. "Has being this cocky actually helped you, in some way?".

When his smile falters, you grin. It's probably the first time he doesn't have something, anything, to hit back, and you consider it a win for your side. "It did," he answers truthfully a beat after, and now his smile is bigger than ever. "Look, you're smiling at me".

You try, hard, to stop your cheeks from going red, but the way you can't really hold his stare any longer is a win for him. He basks in this feeling, knowing himself to be able to make you nervous must be a good sign, right?

At least, he hopes so.

"Okay, stop fucking around or you'll be late," you warn, coming close enough to him to push him off the hood of his car, and towards the driver's door. You try to ignore the way your fingers burn after touching him, deciding not to acknowledge the warning signs that something had changed in the past few weeks. You don’t despise him nearly as much, but you’re not keen on the idea of him knowing about it. Yet.

Mason opens the door of his car, and gets in. You nervously watch back, to the entrance door, after seeing what time it is. 9:13 AM. Your father will be out the door, any second now.

You hope that, the next time you look to the street, the car will be gone, and any trace of the Englishman vanished, like a dream. But instead, when you turn again, the tinted window of his car is down, and he's looking mischievously at you. "Already caring for me? that's new, Ten Hag".

"Go away, Mount".

Hearing the door open, just a few seconds after seeing Mason's car disappear from your street, makes your blood turn cold. The piercing question from your father doesn't make things better. "What are you doing over there?". There’s nothing you could possibly say that will convince your father, and saying the truth isn’t a possibility right now; so, instead, you defuse the question. "Nothing, nothing. Are you ready to leave now?".

The way to Trafford Training Centre is quiet. Your father isn't one to talk much normally, but the silence squishes you until you feel like you're holding your breath. He knows, you're sure, and you’re gonna make Mason pay for it. 

That’s it, if you reach the training ground alive.

"You know, I think Mason is a good kid".

The affirmation is nowhere what you had expected your father to say, so you can’t hide the furrowed brows and defensive tone that comes along with it. "We're in first name base already? Wow, that's new".

The car stops in the red light, and your dad takes the time to turn his head in your direction. He sees your fixed gaze ahead, brows still furrowed, and his head tilts in confusion. "And he's trying really hard to get in your good graces".

"That's not true".

A beat.

"I saw him this morning".

After that, you're left waiting; either, for the disapproving voice in his tone, the yelling, or the pointing out reasons why you shouldn’t be this close to a player, much less someone like him. But instead, he’s silent. And somehow, the silence is scarier.

The air feels thick, and it’s scarily similar to how it feels when a storm is brewing. Hot, too heavy, and like the entire sky is about to fall apart. And a few minutes after, with the car finally parked, and the training center standing tall just a few meters ahead, Erik begins to talk.

“I don’t have a problem with it. Whatever it is”. In other circumstances, you’d laugh at the way he signaled with his hand when saying it, almost like dismissing the entire ordeal, as if he still, so many years after introducing other boyfriends in the past few years -not one that’s worth mentioning, though-, refused to acknowledge that his little girl is not so little anymore.

“I know I always said it’s not a good idea. And I still don’t think it is,” he remarks, but holds a finger up before you can’t argue against what he’s saying, “but, as I said, he’s a good kid. And, most importantly, he’s aware that if he breaks your heart, he won’t play anymore, so-”.

The horror in your eyes must be evident, because he starts laughing before you can tell him off because of his antics. “Dad!”.

“So, you can go out with him. Just don't break his heart, yeah?” You can’t even respond because he gets off the car then, taking his things with him before closing the car door. Yes, you come in together, but since you insist on keeping family business out of the club, Erik begins making his way in alone.  “Could really use my star player having a great season".

In the distance, you can see Mason; he’s smiling widely, with a coffee cup in his hand, and standing just by the door. He opens it, to let your dad in, and you shake your head in feign disapproval.  “Right, Mount?,” Erik calls, alluding to his previous statement; the one he can’t possibly have heard, given how far he was when he said the words. Between the three of you, you’re not the only one that knows that it’s a test, so Mason answers accordingly.

“Yes, sir, of course”.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 7 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, a ton and a half of mutual pining, SLOW BURN

words: 9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 7 ► my secrets are burning a hole through my heart

When Jungkook returned to his own bunk that night, he drew his curtains and spent the whole bus ride to Copenhagen plotting his next move, wishing he’d stayed next to you as you slept, and cursing his friends all at the same time.

He knew that, to Sid, it must have felt like Jungkook had already lost the bet. He’d admitted to being in love with you, and there couldn't be a bigger loss than the vulnerability that comes with having feelings—not to a loser like Sid, at least.

So, it was a matter of pride that first time in Prague, when Sid proposed the bet. Jungkook couldn’t have his friends think that, all these years later, he was still obsessed with you. Still down bad—very bad—for you.

And a casual date was supposed to prove that he was casual.

He wasn’t. God, there was casual, and there was him when he saw you, dressed up for the wedding, on the train.

He supposed it irked him, this realisation, this persistent, undying love. Not because he didn’t want to be in love with you—that was out of his control, he couldn’t help his feelings—but because this was supposed to mean that his friends had been right.

But he didn’t think they were right.

They treated his love for you like something to be embarrassed about. Something shameful, pathetic.

In reality, it was the opposite. The moments he’d shared with you over the past few days lingered in the corners of his mind, and it made him happy, and hopeful, and lucky, and full of positive adjectives that flooded his mind each time he remembered your smile after that cursed Backstreet Boys performance at the wedding.

And he knew he was different from his friends who only felt butterflies when they were hugging a bottle of Bacardi or sitting behind the wheel of a race car. But different didn’t mean worse.

That had been typical Sid, needing to prove that he was better. That he was superior precisely because he wasn’t in love with anyone.

And Jungkook had realised at the bar earlier that the point he was really trying to make with this bet was that, yes, he was in love with you four years after you broke up. But it wasn’t pathetic, and it wasn’t shameful.

And he wasn’t inferior to Sid because of it.

He could make him lose this bet despite still being in love with you.

Which, Jungkook realised—as he rolled over on his back and exhaled so deeply, the covers fluttered around his bunk—was pathetic. It made sense to care about you, because, at least, you’d cared about him, too, once upon a time. But Sid, most likely, never did.

And yet Jungkook still wanted to make him crumble, purely because Sid went around playing games, manipulating people, and doing whatever the hell he wanted, and never—never—suffering any consequences of his actions.

In a way, Jungkook supposed, he deserved consequences, too. He almost expected inconveniences to begin striking him as payback for agreeing to Sid’s game. As karma.

He didn’t want that, and he was afraid these inconveniences would grow: a bird would crap on him, he’d forget the lyrics to his songs, fall off the stage, get hit by a bus on his way out of the venue—and, to top it off, you’d stop talking to him after learning about the bet.

No. No, that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let that happen.

He tried to reason with himself then: did he really care about his Katana that much?

But that didn’t work, because he knew he did.

He’d bought the bike with his first paycheck—actually, his sixth, because he wasn’t being paid much when Rated Riot first started out, and the bike, even damaged, cost a fortune. And he’d repaired it from the terrible condition it was in all by himself; the engine almost literally crumbled in his hands.

He was proud of it. He loved it. He did not want to lose it, not to anyone, and especially not to Sid and Jude: one of them would never shut up if Jungkook lost this bet, and the other one would probably forget about it after a few days, but the principle was the same.

This wouldn’t work, he had to keep the bike.

Then, he tried to find a way around the conditions that Sid had come up with: he clarified that both of you had to know that you were back together. That, unfortunately, eliminated the possibility of Jungkook making it seem like you were back together, even though you weren’t; not really.

But then there was the condition of not telling you about the bet. What if he asked someone else to tell you? He supposed that could work—unless it’d make everything much worse since you wouldn’t hear about it from him, and you’d be so mad, you’d stop talking to him anyway.

No, that was too risky; it wouldn’t work either.

Finally, he figured, he was going to have to win the bet fairly, because of the following reasons: a) he couldn’t find a way to cheat, at least not at this point; b) he simply couldn’t let Sid win, not when he already won everything, because people were too intimidated to stand up to him; c) he couldn’t lose his bike; and, most importantly, d) he really did want to get back together with you and shuddered at the thought of losing you.

The tour bus reached Copenhagen in the early hours of the afternoon.

Nearly everyone had plans for the day before the soundcheck – Taehyung and Luna had decided to see the Tivoli Gardens before you even reached Denmark, and Yoongi and Hoseok decided to be the third and the fourth wheel respectively.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun had, weirdly, split up. You weren’t aware of each of their whereabouts, but you knew Jungkook didn’t go with them, citing his reasoning as “couldn’t decide which one of them to go with”. You assumed he would eventually end up joining Taehyung and Luna, too.

Meanwhile, you stayed back to help the crew prepare for the show—you thought you had to, since you still felt guilty for getting drinks last night while everyone else stayed back to work.

Everyone looked overworked, yet insisted they were fine today. You sent a few of the staff members off to rest—they left the room, but you had a suspicion that they went to work elsewhere instead—and joined Seokjin in the empty venue.

The Rated Riot logo was already hoisted by the back of the stage. The lights on it still flickered when it was turned on; at certain points, it appeared as though the band’s name was “R-R-R-Rate it”. Not to mention, countless lightbulbs around the frame had shattered last night in Berlin, and made the logo look purposefully edgy—if you didn’t know why some of the bulbs weren’t working.

To solve this, the crew had strung fairy lights around the broken sign and curled some of the strings around the wall behind it, illuminating the dark backdrop of the stage. This accentuated the lettering and created a lightning bolt effect on the backdrop, even despite some of the lights not working.

You thought that, as soon as the crew fixed the flickering—they were working on it at the moment—you might actually like the logo better this way. Perhaps the roadies should be invited to the next concept meeting for the band.

However, you had to admit, you wouldn’t have stayed back if you’d known Seokjin would employ you to carry the equipment inside. You wanted to help, but not at the expense of your spine.

The venue for tonight wasn’t particularly big—none of them were, it’s why you loved Rated Riot’s gigs so much; all of them felt incredibly intimate—but the distance from the bus to the stage was a long one.

Now, Seokjin watched as you heaved the metal decorations with pitying eyes, yet did not offer his assistance – because he knew you would refuse, but also because he preferred to yell at people rather than to carry heavy things himself.

“Where am I putting this?” you huffed—not for the first time today; Seokjin insisted on supervising every piece of equipment individually instead of allowing you to drop everything wherever.

“This one can go anywhere,” he waved his hand around just as his phone started to ring in his hand. “I need to take th—hold on, not there!”

You blinked at him, already in the process of putting the metal frame down. “You said anywhere!”

“Anywhere but there!” he shouted as he picked up the call and turned his back to you, focusing on the conversation on his phone. “Yes? No! No. Really? No. Okay, yes.”

It was hard to tell if the conversation he was having was serious enough to ignore you, based on what you heard—but that was how phone conversations with him went; if you asked two questions at the same time, he’d only answer one and it was your responsibility to guess which one.

Deciding to just leave the metal frame anywhere—except where he initially said—and run out of here to help someone else before he could notice your absence, you strained to drag the decoration closer towards the stage. You attempted to lower it slowly, but your hands were nearly shaking at that point, and you ended up dropping it when it was a few inches off the ground. You barely managed to leap away from it as it landed with a clang far louder than was necessary.

Naturally, Seokjin turned around, displeased. Covering the speaker on his phone, he clicked his tongue.

“Please,” he said. “I appreciate your help, but don’t break anything. We’re already short on equipment after Berlin.”

“This weighs as much as I do,” you countered, straightening and immediately supporting your back with your hands as the bones somewhere cracked. You weren’t built for this. “And it’s metal. It’d break me before I could break it. Is this spot okay?”

“It’s fine. Could you bring out the mic stand, too, please? Thanks so much,” he said, and before you could react, he returned to his call. “I’m here. Yes. Mmhmm.”

Sighing as you attempted to stretch, you climbed up the stage steps and picked the microphone stand up from the nook by the exit to the changing area.

“Need some help?” a voice asked from the darkness behind you. You jumped so violently that you nearly tossed the stand in the direction the sound was coming from.

“Jesus,” you wheezed, clutching your chest as Jungkook came into the light from the hallway.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said and, not waiting for your response, took the stand from you and carried it to the middle of the stage.

“Thanks,” you said, watching him while you recovered. “Didn’t know you were here.”

“No problem,” he replied, lifting the stand to his height before placing it where he personally saw fit.

Seokjin could hardly complain—Jungkook was going to be the one who used the microphone, after all—and yet, as soon as he ended the call and turned around, he groaned loudly.

“No! Do you have any concept of what the middle of the stage is?” he yelled, approaching Jungkook, clearly determined to do this himself.

“I just thought it’d be better if—”

“It would not be better if,” Seokjin cut him off, climbing up the steps and grabbing the stand from him to place it in the right spot. “If it’s slightly to the left, then you’ll be knocking into Yoongi every time you lean back. If it’s to the right, then the same thing with Taehyung. Don’t even get me started on the stand being too far back, so you could successfully trip and fall into Hoseok’s drum set.”

Jungkook glanced at you—you closed your eyes and nodded, confirming that this lecture was a normal process of working with Seokjin—then looked back at the stage manager.

“I’m a real safety hazard in your eyes, aren’t I?” he joked.

“You are,” Seokjin replied completely seriously. Jungkook did a double-take as he’d already begun to turn to you again—to check if his little joke made you smile; it did. “Go now! It’s bad luck for the artist to see the stage before the concert.”

You snorted at this, while Jungkook frowned, confused by the logic—he was, technically, going to see the stage during the soundcheck—but he chose not to argue as he joined you at the back of the stage while Seokjin busied himself with repositioning the speakers at the front.

“Is he always like this?” Jungkook asked you in a concerned whisper as he glanced back over his shoulder. “I think I’ve only ever seen him laughing. This is a first for me.”

“Yeah, he’s stressed,” you explained. “Lots of back-to-back shows and all of the venues seem to have something wrong with them. At least, according to his standards.”

“Hmm,” he nodded. “What else can I do to help?”

You lifted your eyebrows at this, genuinely worried that he was entering a new stage of masochism. “Are you kidding? Get out of here while he’s not looking.”

“No, I can—I can help,” he said despite his confidence faltering at your words. Perhaps he really should really have been running for his life.

“No, you can’t,” you retorted, placing a hand on his shoulder as you guided him towards the hallway. “You still have to perform later tonight. I’ll help; you rest.”

Jungkook stopped walking and turned around—you didn’t react quickly enough and your hand brushed over his chest as you pulled it away, the tips of your fingers catching on the soft material of his corduroy jacket.

“Well, he’s not looking right now,” he said, peeking at Seokjin again. “Let’s both go.”

You shook your head. The moment had suddenly become so melodramatic, your next line should have been, ‘it’s too late for me, go on without me.’

Simply, you disagreed, “I can’t—”

“Just for a quick break,” he cut you off, an almost pleading tone in his voice. He took your hand—or tried to, but ended up grabbing your wrist—as he pulled you after him into the dark hallway, towards the changing room. “You deserve it.”

Despite being unable to resist—he wasn’t very rough, but he was very determined not to let you out of his grip—you still tried to protest, “you don’t know that.”

“I know you and I know you deserve that,” he shot back and opened the door into the inner hallway, waiting for you to go in and, after you paused, encouraging, “come on.”

You relented with an uncertain sigh as you walked through the door.

The two of you entered Rated Riot’s changing room—currently empty because everyone else was out in the city—and you were surprised to feel relieved to be here alone.

You’d been working ever since you reached the city over three hours ago, save for a little break when you went to grab some coffee from the deli across the street right after you arrived. You hadn’t even realised how tired and hungry you were now.

“Should we order some food, then?” you asked. “I thought you left with the rest of the guys, so I didn’t plan any meals at the venue.”

“Actually,” Jungkook said, grabbing his phone from where he’d left it on the make-up table, “why don’t we go out to eat? I saw a fast-food place across the street.”

You’d seen it too when you were getting drinks, but you weren’t sure if leaving right now was a good idea—you were here so you could help the crew, after all.

Then again, this was just lunch – you’d be back in an hour, maybe even less. The soundcheck wouldn’t begin until two hours later, so the rest of the team probably wouldn’t be back before then. And it wasn’t like you’d be abandoning the crew, either, since Seokjin had them all under strict control.

“I guess we can do that,” you said, checking the pockets of your oversized leather jacket—there were many of them, and you needed a minute. “I think I left my wallet on the bus, though. We have to stop by there.”

“It’s fine,” he said. “My treat.”

Following the trip to Paris—which was his treat, too, since he’d bought the train tickets with his personal money—you were quick to dismiss this offer.

“I can send you the money from my phone,” you decided, walking back to the door of the changing room. “We can go.”

Jungkook sighed, mumbling under his breath, “impossible to do anything nice for you.”

You turned around, not sure what you’d just heard. “Hmm?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he replied with a quick shake of his head and reached over to hold the door open for you.

“We’ll probably have to sneak past Jin, though. I’m not sure how that’s going to—”

“We’re going out to get food!” Jungkook called out as the two of you walked down the hallway towards the stage. You looked at him in horror. He asked, “anyone want anything?”

“I’m good,” Seokjin replied when he saw you emerge. You paused, ready to stop and explain why you were leaving, but Jungkook took your hand again, pulling you with him down the stage steps.

“Oh—we’ll see you later,” you shouted to Seokjin—who mumbled something and waved in your general direction—and then yanked your hand out of Jungkook’s grip. “You can’t keep doing that.”

“What?” he lifted his eyebrows, surprised by your abrupt hostility. “Offer people to buy them food?”

“You can’t just announce that we’re leaving,” you said as you two made your way towards the exit of the venue. “You may be able to come and go as you please, but I’m not entitled to freedom like that. I have to ask if people are going to be okay while I’m gone.”

“See, but if you ask, then you’re giving them reasons not to be okay,” Jungkook argued. “And if you just say you’re leaving, then they have no choice.”

You rolled your eyes. “Life is so very simple for you.”

“It is,” he replied with a grin as he opened the back door for you. “And, as long as you’re with me, I can make it simple for you, too.”

The fast-food place that you’d both seen turned out to be a small hamburger restaurant. When you and Jungkook entered, it was empty, save for the waiter by the cash register.

He greeted you in Danish and even after your greetings in English, he continued to ask you something in his native language. When you apologised for not understanding, his eyes doubled in size and, he, too, apologised for not realising you weren’t local.

You decided to take this as a compliment. You had felt out of place wherever you went; so very obviously foreign here. Not that anyone minded it, but there was something oddly embarrassing about being a tourist. Even if you were, technically, here for work.

The atmosphere inside the restaurant was nice and calming; mellow instrumental music played on the speakers and large windows faced the beautiful brick buildings across the empty street. Really, putting you in a good mood required almost no effort today, but this restaurant being empty still made your heart soar.

You and Jungkook took seats at a table by the window and hung your jackets on the backs of your chairs. You both took a moment to enjoy the view before you picked up the dark brown paper menus on the table.

There weren’t a lot of options, so you were quick to choose. And, because this was a very small restaurant, you assumed you’d have at least twenty good minutes of taking in the sights outside the window—especially the pair of collies that had escaped their owner and were currently chasing each other down the cobblestone street—before your food would be brought to you. But it reached you mere minutes later.

The burgers looked very appetising, although the portions were bigger than either of you expected; french fries were hanging off your plates.

Like complete tourists, you and Jungkook clinked your burgers together before taking your first bites. You looked at each other immediately once you got the first taste.

“Oh, this is so good,” you whined, your mouth full.

“Right?” Jungkook nodded in eager agreement as he took another bite, frowning deeply and shaking his head as if in disbelief—you knew him well enough to recognise this as a sign of satisfaction. “Easily top ten best burgers I’ve had in my life.”

“Definitely,” you agreed. “And to think there aren’t any people here? I’m in awe.”

“I know, right?” he said again as he continued to chew—far longer than was necessary because he refused to swallow until he gathered enough courage to comment casually enough, “I’m glad I got to try this with you.”

You looked up from your burger. The collies outside had tired and lied down on the pavement, giving their owner enough time to catch his hat in the wind and reach his dogs. You were not sure what the meaningful look in Jungkook’s eyes was supposed to imply.

“Because I know how to do the Heimlich?” you offered.

He blinked at this. He was expecting all sorts of different questions after he said that, but this wasn’t one of them.

“No,” he said, the corners of his lips curling into an involuntary smile. “But that’s a good thing to know.”

“I am also, of course, the expert on burgers,” you guessed then.

“It’s not because of your skills,” he said. “It’s just because it’s you.”

You took another bite and, as you chewed, you picked up a napkin to wipe your lips. You felt very self-conscious suddenly. And you needed a moment—for what, you didn’t know.

The dogs outside refused the leash, jumping around their owner, who cursed in, at least, three different languages; you could hear as much from inside.

“Okay, listen,” you said after a minute, “so, if there was never any ex,” you watched Jungkook cringe softly as you mentioned this, “what is wrong with you?”

The brutality of the question took him off-guard as he coughed in surprise, covering his mouth with his hand.

“What?” he asked through spasms of coughing. “Nothing’s wrong with me.”

“You’ve been acting weird since the tour started.”

He employed an aura of nonchalance as he countered, “how am I acting weird?”

“Well, for one, you forced me to go to Paris with you,” you reminded him.

 “I don’t recall there being any forcing.”

“There was emotional forcing.”

He shook his head with a small roll of his eyes. “Fine. But that doesn’t prove that I’m acting weird.”

“Let’s say that’s true,” you said. “Then why are you here?

Jungkook put his burger down, wiping the crumbs on his hands with a napkin.

“Okay,” he said. “Now what is that supposed to mean? Can’t I be here?”

“Everyone else is sight-seeing,” you explained before the offence in his eyes could deepen. “Taehyung and Luna went to that theme park, and Yoongi and Hoseok tagged along. You know the one I mean.”

“Tivoli,” he said.

“Right,” you nodded. “Even your three musketeers went out. Why didn’t you go anywhere?”

“I’m sure they picked up some girls on their way, so they have enough company.”

You lifted your eyebrows at this; you could recall Sid and Jude chatting up girls at the concert last night in Berlin.  “More girls? Your fans weren’t enough?”

Jungkook tsked. “Our fans have better taste.”

Your expression softened.

“Good point,” you said, returning your attention to your food. “Why didn’t you go to Tivoli then?”

“Because you weren’t going,” he replied so quickly, your eyes fluttered back to him.

Another long, heavy moment passed. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way you were tiptoeing on the edges of the topic that you were almost discussing.

“See, that’s weird,” you said as your gaze slid down his chest and then settled on the view outside of the restaurant window.

With the dogs gone, the street was completely empty and, somehow, this emptiness amplified the silence inside of the restaurant. The muzak changed according to the flow of your conversation; you could barely hear the instrumental beat anymore.

Jungkook understood your reasoning—he heard the implication in his own words—and he saw the way you began to avoid his gaze as soon as he admitted that he’d stayed back for you.

But you didn’t just look surprised, you looked almost frightened. Like he’d just told you he was thinking of proposing – either to you, or to this burger.

It shocked him because, while he expected resistance, he wasn’t expecting fear.

His question was genuine after he cleared his throat, “why is that weird?”

“Why would you not go if I’m not going?” you asked, repeating his previous statement with an incredulous scoff—like the very thought of him feeling this way was outrageous and you were astonished he didn’t see that.

Slowly, he shrugged one of his shoulders, afraid to move too much—as if you were a stray deer that had wandered a bit too close to the residential neighbourhood and he was a kid who’d just discovered you; one move that was too quick, and you’d run away in a blind panic.

“Because,” he said as an explanation.

You dared to look at him, encouraged—and angered—by the abrupt end of his sentence. “Because why?”

“I’d rather be here,” he said then.

He did not know how to navigate his way out of this one.

After everything that happened between the two of you in the past few days, you had, clearly, received some sort of signals that he’d been sending you—both consciously, and subconsciously. They weren’t exactly subtle, after all. And yet you were determined to draw your blinds shut and ignore every single one of them.

“Why?” you asked again, your patience wearing thin as you distracted yourself with the french fries.

“God,” he groaned, leaning back in his chair. Since he couldn’t just blurt out the truth about his feelings for you—but you looked like he’d just had, and he was horrified all over again—he had to use his favourite tactic of diverting your attention. “Do you need reasons for everything?”

“Not everything, but at least something,” you said. “You’re answering all of my questions with other questions.”

“Why do you even have questions?” he shot back. “Do you not enjoy my company?”

“You’re doing it again!” you accused, your hands rising on their own accord. “Seriously. What’s up? Are you nervous about the tour or something? I thought I made it clear that you could talk to me.”

Oh—this made him pause.

You thought he was doing this—again, what was he doing? Because it stopped seeming like flirting a long time ago—due to anxiety. You thought he was being evasive, and, therefore, weird around you.

Jungkook wasn’t sure if he could make this work in his favour and avoid lying at the same time.

“I just want to spend time with you,” he ended up saying, which was true. And because you kept your eyes on him after he said this, he felt confident enough to add, “we used to be close. I-I’d like that again.”

At that point, he thought he’d understand if you would get up and leave. He wasn’t sure if he would have followed; he didn’t think he had that right, not after he didn’t follow you the first time you left him. But you looked down to your plate and picked up another french fry, toying with it between your fingers.

He hadn’t proposed anything particularly awful—although he avoided saying ‘friends’ with such intensity that it only magnified the deeper implication of the word—yet he felt like a death row prisoner waiting to hear the date of his execution.

“Why now?” you asked, finally putting the fry in your mouth and biting into it.

The wait for your response had been excruciating. He needed to make you see that this was not a big deal.

“Why not?” he replied, his voice a tad too casual, showing just how hard he was trying to appear calm, to conceal the overtime his heart was working in his chest. “We’re on tour, so we’re going to be seeing a lot of each other.”

That sounded good in his head. But you looked at him in such a way that he thought he was about to hear that, despite overwhelming evidence in his favour, he was still going to be hanged in the town square.

“And after the tour ends?” you asked, setting the gallows up for him.

He thought about this for a moment and attempted to return to his usual nonchalance despite feeling sweaty all over.

“That’s not until two months later,” he said and realised, immediately, that this was the wrong answer.

He didn’t have enough time to correct himself before you scoffed again and asked, “so, why bother with a friendship if it won’t matter in two months?”

“That’s not what I wanted to say,” he retorted quickly. “Why would it not matter?”

You were the one who shrugged this time—the answer was obvious. “Did it matter before we came here?”

“It did,” he replied with complete certainty.

You looked away, but he saw the skepticism on your face and the way you hyper-focused on the street outside so as not to roll your eyes. “Oh, okay.”

“It did matter.”

Frowning at the offence in his voice, you returned your gaze to his face, trying to find the answers to the questions in your head. Especially this one: how could your relationship have mattered to him before the tour started?

“I don’t know what kind of a friendship you have with Sid and The Losers,” you said, “but in my experience, being friends with someone implies making an effort for them.”

“I was making an effort,” he continued to insist.

“Making an effort to get us both in trouble with the label.”

He knew that this was how you saw it—you were very clear about that each time he and his friends somehow managed to find themselves in an emergency—but he still didn’t think you were being fair.

“I always let you know where I am at the start of the night,” he defended.

“And I appreciate that—”

“Not just to inform you,” he continued. “It was always an open invitation.”

You brought your tongue over your lips as your eyes returned to your plate. You grabbed another fry, focusing on the salt on your tongue for a second.

The bell by the door rang, signalling the entrance of a new customer.

Nor you, nor Jungkook turned to look, feeling like your table by the window of the restaurant existed on a different plane of reality—a vacuum of sorts where only the two of you lived.

You could remember one instance when you had gotten the feeling—after one of Jungkook’s late-night texts with his location—that he’d sent it to you because he was subtly asking you to join him. You thought you had misunderstood.

You didn’t know how to feel now that you knew you hadn’t.

“I’m not asking to provoke you or to start an argument,” you spoke up, “but do you think that’s appropriate?”

That wasn’t a very good question, knowing that Jungkook was very liberal when it came to seeing things as appropriate—and he shrugged as soon as you asked this.

“Spending time outside of work?” he clarified. You nodded. He shrugged once more. “You hang out with Luna and Taehyung all the time. And Maggie. Why would it be different for us?”

It was a hilariously stupid question and you both knew it.

Keeping your eyes on his, you deadpanned, “right. Why would it?”

He fought back with just as much irony as he said, heated, “yeah. Exactly.”

Your gazes remained locked until your phone buzzed a few seconds later, the sound dull as it reverberated against the material of your jacket.

You twisted in your seat to get the device out of the pocket. While you did, Jungkook took another bite of his burger.

It was a text message from Jimin, who was typing in all caps to let you know that he and Namjoon had just arrived at the venue, and Seokjin—or, in Jimin’s panicked words, ‘SOEKEJIIN’—was in a frenzy so intense, he was either about to faint or force everyone around him to faint.

“It looks like I have to get back to work,” you said, sliding your phone back into the pocket of your jacket as you picked it up from the back of your chair. You missed the disappointment that descended on Jungkook’s face. With a sigh, you added, “I appreciate you trying to be friends with me, but—just—don’t do that because you feel like you have to, since we’re on tour. Or whatever other temporary reason you might—”

“It’s not because of temporary reasons,” he said as you stood up. He turned away when you looked at him, though, not wanting you to see his eyes in case Sid’s game was evident in them. He didn’t lie when he reiterated, “I mean that.”

“Okay,” you said, choosing not to argue even though your next words barely sounded like a compromise, “well, let’s wait and see. Maybe you’ll change your mind. I have to go, but finish your lunch and then I’ll see you after the—”

“I won’t change my mind.”

You paused again. “Okay. Well. You’ll understand why I’m going to need actions to support your words.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” he said. “We were having lunch together. Isn’t that a start?”

Clutching your jacket to yourself as you lingered by the table, you conceded hesitantly, “it’s a start…”

Encouraged by this, he threw his hands in the air before speaking.

“But you’re leaving me all by myself, so it does feel like I’m not getting the same treatment back,” he said, and it took you a second to catch the teasing glimmer in his eye. You’d almost forgotten how quick he was on his feet—which wasn’t always a good thing, because he used this to avoid uncomfortable topics. He questioned, “do you not want to be friends with me?”

You brought your teeth over your lower lip as you looked away. He knew you. He knew the intentional childishness would end up amusing you eventually—and he couldn’t help but feel proud when he saw your shoulders relax as you fought back a smile.

“I’d love to be friends with you,” you said. “And, as your friend, I have to make sure your band has a great performance tonight, so finish your food while I do my job. I’ll see you later.”

“Text me!” he shouted as you put your jacket on, already taking a step towards the door of the restaurant.

You turned back to look at him. “Text you? About what?”

“Anything. It’s what friends do.”

Laughing now, you pulled your phone out of your pocket just as it began to vibrate again.

“Eat,” you told him, “we’ll figure out how to be friends later.”

He nodded in response, even though he didn’t feel hungry anymore. He watched you walk out of the restaurant and run across the street, back to the venue. With a deep exhale, he picked up a fry that had fallen out of the pile on his plate and tossed it into his mouth.

He hadn’t fully grasped how serious you were when you said you didn’t believe in second chances. Perhaps he should have. In all the years that he’d known you, he’d never seen you restore a friendship with someone you’d stopped talking to.

You were the sort of person who stayed until the very last drop of your patience—and then some more. You weren’t someone who left easily, you endured. You had the highest tolerance threshold out of everyone he’d ever met. So, really, it was understandable why you didn’t believe in trying again.

Still, he was arrogant enough to consider himself different. To consider the two of you different.

Really, he had thought things were going well.

Until this moment here, that is. He hadn’t even done or said much today, but you were quick to determine that he had reached the line. And you were not going to let him cross it.

He’d assumed the line had gotten a bit further away. He thought he was allowed to say more to you, to be more personal about your relationship after your trip to Paris—the trip was fine, after all! You’d both had fun. But, now he was starting to think that, perhaps, the reason why the Paris trip went well was because, initially, you went on it thinking he had an ex that he wanted to get back together with.

You had thought you were, on some level, still doing your job—whether as his manager, or someone who’s known him for almost ten years now. Just having his back. Keeping him out of trouble.

You’d always been doing that, for as long as he could remember. You never even considered—he never made you consider—that there was more to it.

He knew now that he had thought about this all wrong. You assumed that he was joking around, participating in Sid’s pranks, not taking anything—not even you—seriously. And you were right, of course, but only in part.

Step One would be proving to you that he was serious.

Maybe you never believed in second chances because you were never shown that people deserved them. And he was determined to show you that he deserved it. To convince you that the two of you could be close again—so long as he could look past the bet and convince himself first.

After Rated Riot’s performance that night—which went by smoothly, of course, even though Yoongi tripped over a loose cable and forced Seokjin to spend the entirety of the encore cursing quietly under his breath—the members followed the tradition of going out to meet the fans. Meanwhile, you insisted on supervising the deconstruction of the stage, wanting—rather desperately—to avoid incidents similar to Berlin.

To be fair, calling it supervision was generous; all you did was repeatedly remind everyone to “take it slow” while taping boxes and holding doors. The roadies seemed to appreciate your input this time, although you couldn’t shake the feeling that these middle-aged men still only saw you as an eager six-year-old, who passionately wanted to be helpful.

You decided you were going to take it. At least, you were here and could witness all that was happening.

Eventually, you noticed that Seokjin had disappeared. You weren’t very concerned; he had so many things to look after that you figured there simply had to be something else that required his attention.

But here’s the thing about Seokjin – he was demanding, but he was also very caring. A manifestation of this was the plastic bowl, filled to the brim with lollipops, that he brought backstage when he returned fifteen minutes later.

“Here,” he announced. “I think we can all use this. Make sure all of you take some—but no more than five, so everyone has enough.”

You chuckled, assuming that this was more for a boost of morale than anything else, but you were soon surprised. It was almost funny, truly, how quickly every adult in the room leapt to the lollipop bowl.

Seokjin, in the meantime, made his way towards you. Three bright green, apple-flavoured lollipops were in his hand, and he pointed them at you.

“Hey,” he said. “This is for making you haul heavy things around the venue earlier.”

“That’s my job,” you replied, but took the suckers from him nonetheless. Apple was your favourite flavour.

“It’s not, though,” he disagreed. “You were here because you felt bad. You shouldn’t feel bad. What happened before was not your fault.”

Your smile was grateful and you reminded him, “it’s not yours, either.”

“I know that.” He exhaled somewhat sadly before continuing, “but that’s not as easy for me to say. The battens fell in Berlin, because the scissor lift got stuck on some middle setting, and the staff couldn’t reach properly. They had to unscrew the construction with their hands raised above their heads. I told them not to, but they insisted we were short on time. And I let them do it.”

You sighed, too. “If the schedule wasn’t so intense—”

“They would have probably still done it this way,” Seokjin finished. “They didn’t think anything would go wrong. That was just an excuse to get it over with faster.”

You’d heard a similar explanation yesterday when you were first called up after the incident – “we wanted to do this as fast as possible.”

Trying to brighten the mood, you said, “at least no one got hurt. And I’m sure it’s a lesson learned in any case.”

“It is. Because now you’re here, watching everything like a hawk,” he noted.

This surprised you—and Seokjin grinned at your raised eyebrows.

“It’s not like I can fire them if more things break,” you said.

“That’s the worst part,” he countered. He still had an entertained expression on his face, but something inside of him had softened. It was endearing how unaware you were of how much the staff here cared about you. He said, “they saw how distressed you were last night.”

You were still confused about the magnitude of your role here—the backstage crew didn’t respond directly to you. To be fair, even certain members of Rated Riot didn’t, even though they should have.

“Everyone who was here was distressed,” you said.

“True,” Seokjin nodded, “but they should have been; this was their job, and something went wrong. Meanwhile, your stress is just, sort of, collateral damage. They felt bad for upsetting you.”

You looked back at the staff behind you. Seeing these men—some large and scruffy, others tall and lanky, all of them intimidating in certain lighting—dismantle the stage construction while sucking on lollipops brought a smile to your face.

“I’m a little kid in their eyes,” you said then, “aren’t I?”

Seokjin had to be honest: despite his attempts to always be respectful, he, too, sometimes thought you were too young for the responsibilities of your job. You never proved him right, however, breezing through said responsibilities with an ease that he wouldn’t have expected from someone your age—he admired that.

“A little bit, yeah,” he admitted.

You snorted, but there were shadows of disappointment on your features that he was quick to notice. Sometimes you wondered if Seokjin had chosen stage management as an alternative to psychology.

“If it makes you feel better,” he said, “most of the people here treated me like a kid when we first met, too. And I’m older than some of the roadies. I guess I look very young.”

“What’d you do to make them respect you?” you asked.

“I started yelling.”

This got you to laugh. “Should I consider it?”

“I think that, sometimes, you should,” he replied. “They say that people shout when they don’t know enough words to whisper—or something like that—but I think differently. I think they shout because they care and they need others to care.”

“Hmm,” you turned your gaze away as various disagreements and full-blown arguments that you’d had in your life—most of them with the same person—flashed through your mind. “That… makes sense, I think.”

“Yeah, and besides,” Seokjin said, “yelling is fun. People pay attention to you. Sometimes they even fear you. I love it.”

You laughed again, even though you’d seen it yourself – new staff members tended to avoid Seokjin. Even you didn’t want to get in his way when he was setting the stage up.

But all of that was so he would get things done. And, once he did, he was easily the most entertaining person to be around—which meant a lot, considering you were literally on tour with rock artists right now.

“Maybe you should get on stage with Rated Riot one of these nights,” you teased, “that might satisfy your itch to be listened to.”

“You know what? I just might,” he played along, a grin spreading on his lips. Nodding at the candy in your hand, he said, “try the lollipops. We’re almost done here anyway.”

“Thank you,” you said. “Really. We wouldn’t be on tour if it weren’t for you.”

“There’s no ‘I’ in ‘team’,” he responded brightly. Then, he leaned closer to add in a teasing whisper, “but there is in ‘ass-kissing’.”

Your eyes widened as he snickered, pulling back and walking past you to help the crew carry the boxes outside. He looked at you over his shoulder, his expression cheerful.

“I meant what I said, you know!” you shouted after him.

“I know,” he called back. “I meant it, too. Go rest! This isn’t your responsibility.”

He picked up a box, propped it on his hip, and walked away before you could argue and offer your assistance anyway.

Figuring you might as well go and actually stop working for the day, you unwrapped one of the lollipops and made your way outside. The band was probably still having post-show drinks backstage, so you figured you could get a few minutes of quiet on the bus before everyone else returned.

Just as you exited the venue, however, you saw a white puff of smoke coming from somewhere on the side of the building. Popping the lollipop in your mouth, you stopped and waited for just a second, until the person bent down to shake the ash off the cigarette, and you recognized Jungkook’s profile.

Your legs brought you over to him before your mind could reconsider.

Rounding the corner, you asked, “should you be doing this?”

He flinched, not having expected you here, and it got you to smile. The two of you had a special way of sneaking up on each other today.

“Probably not,” he said, blowing smoke out. “Bad for my lungs, right?"

“So I hear.”

This was the first time the two of you were alone together, following the interrupted lunch earlier. Jungkook had wondered what it would be like now that he’d made his intentions clear—as clear as he could under the circumstances, at least. Now that he’d brought up the possibility of a friendship.

He had worried it would be weird or awkward. That he wouldn’t know how to prove himself to you, wouldn’t know what to say, or worse, that he would, but you would respond in the same cold, detached way as you had the first time in the restaurant.

But now that you were here, he didn’t feel different. He didn’t feel like he’d dropped a ground-breaking revelation—he knew he hadn’t, but your reaction begged otherwise—and he didn’t feel awkward.

He felt, he realised, like he’d been waiting for you to find him here. Like he knew you’d come, taking him off guard, appearing next to him from the shadows of the late night.

Taking another drag, he extended the cigarette towards you. Smoke passed his lips as he spoke, “want some?”

Hesitating for a moment, you gave your lollipop one last twirl against your tongue before you pulled it out of your mouth.

As you took the cigarette from him and placed it between your lips, you pointed the sucker at him and echoed, half-jokingly, “want some?”

He chuckled at this, but took the lollipop from you. Your question was a challenge—you asked because you didn’t think he’d agree—and he took you up on it immediately, putting the candy in his mouth.

You watched him toy with it, biting into the plastic stick lightly, and something seemed to short wire inside of you, shooting dangerous sparks in every which way. You wondered, for a passing moment, if your conversation at lunch could have triggered something long-forgotten inside of you, like the trip to Paris had.

When Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall, the smoke you were supposed to exhale got caught in your throat.

Sighing deeply, he spoke, “haven’t done that in a while.”

Tilting your head to blow smoke out in a clumsy cough, you asked, “s-sucked on a lollipop? Or smoked?”

Twisting the sucker around his mouth for more flavour—aware, with every taste receptor on his tongue, that this was your taste—he replied, “shared a cigarette. Or candy.”

“Me neither.”

You took another drag and gave the cigarette back to him. He took it from you, his movements slow, and, in turn, he pulled out the lollipop, extending it back to you.

You were the one who snickered this time as you retrieved it, and, without any reluctance, put it back in your mouth. He forgot what breathing was and how it worked right after.

He wondered, his gaze frozen on your face, what the cigarettes and apple-flavoured lollipops tasted like on your lips. He wanted to find out, wanted to replace the candy in your mouth with his own tongue, wanted to—

He was forced to look away as the lit cigarette stung the tips of his fingers, ashes falling on his boots.

He shook it off and forced his eyes to stay on the ground beneath his feet.

“So,” you spoke, tapping the edge of the lollipop stick. “You ready to go back? The crew just finished up. If you hurry, you might still grab a few drinks backstage before it’s all gone.”

“I’d, uh…” his eyes were cast low. As soon as he put the cigarette back against his lips, he thought he’d begun to hallucinate—because, realistically, he shouldn’t have recognised the taste of your lip gloss, mixed with a faint taste of apples on the filter. Coughing, he stuttered, “I-I’d rather, um, stay here, actually.”

Suddenly awkward, you realised he may have been looking for a quiet minute by himself just as you had been, before you saw him. “Oh. I’m sorry I interrupted. I can—”

“No,” he stopped you. “I meant with you.”

You watched him exhale smoke and wondered, unexpectedly, what it meant for you if you craved a cigarette more than a lollipop. You never thought you had a nicotine addiction; really, you barely smoked.

Perhaps this was something different. A sort of latent chronic disease that you couldn’t shake no matter how much you tried—and you spent four years trying.

“Really?” you asked now, your chest light and your eyes glistening—in a dangerous, promising way. “Hiding behind a corner, sharing a cigarette like pre-teen delinquents?”

His eyes met yours as he took another drag. “Just the way I like it.”

“Alright,” you said, leaning your side against the wall next to him. You twirled the lollipop around in your mouth and he could almost feel the remaining ounces of restraint leave his body. “Let’s stay here, then.”

You were playing around, but there was a seriousness behind your words. You didn’t question him. You just stayed.

And he had to look away from you again.

He didn’t really understand why; this was so childish. He played along with your delinquent joke, but he wasn’t actually twelve—even if being with you did make him feel like a sixth-grader, discovering what having a crush was like for the first time.

“Tell you what,” he said, turning to his side to look at you. He lifted the cigarette; there was barely any of it left. “You can finish this off in exchange for the lollipop.”

You grinned. “Yeah? You liked the apple taste?”

You knew, he suspected. You had to know what you were doing to him; there was no way you wouldn’t notice how pathetically affected he was. All of Copenhagen could probably hear a faint thundering that came from inside of his chest.

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Something like that.”

“Okay.” You pulled the lollipop out of your mouth—and did it slowly, only strengthening his suspicion that you were doing this to him on purpose. Still, he felt his heart leap right to his throat and drop down to his feet when your lips pursed. “Although it’s hardly fair, since mine will last longer for you.”

You took his cigarette with your free hand and passed him the lollipop. The very tips of your fingers touched as you exchanged possessions, and, for a moment—which was so laced with electricity that the streetlamps around you seemed to flicker—Jungkook was worried that he wouldn’t manage to control himself, after all. That he would use this gentle, barely-there touch to hold you tighter. To throw the lollipop away, to kiss you, to never let go of you again.

Instead, he took half a step backwards—afraid of his impulses—and popped the candy into his mouth as quickly as he could. As if this way, he’d be less affected by your lingering taste on his tongue.

“Good,” he said. “It’s bad for your lungs, anyway.”

You snorted as you took one final drag before you reached dangerously close to the filter. Blowing smoke out, you leaned down to put the cigarette out against the pavement and walked away from him to throw the remains into the trashcan by the exit.

He opened his eyes to watch you return. You were smiling – not at him, but not away from him, either – and he wasn’t sure what he’d do next. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen—not tonight, not tomorrow, not in two weeks when the bet was supposed to end.

He had suggested a friendship today. He’d promised to himself to prove to you that he was worth it, that the two of you could be close again. That you could be friends.

But he had a pack full of cigarettes in the back pocket of his jeans; both of you could have had one of your own. Yet, he didn’t offer.

And you had two brand new lollipops from Seokjin in the pocket of your jacket. You could have given him one—but you didn’t offer, either.

Both of you chose not to mention this, aware—very vividly—that normal friends probably shouldn’t have enjoyed sharing candy and cigarettes so much.

So, Jungkook didn’t know anything at all. But with you here—as your gaze fell to his lips, he thought the flavour of the lollipop sharpened somehow, bringing shivers down his spine—he was thrilled to find out.

chapter title credits: bring me the horizon, “sleepwalking”

prev ○ next