#sorry for thinking it's attractive when men wear high heels. as if it's my fault.

[heartbeetz]

REMINDER THAT:

>>> !!! Bob Spαrker canon high heels !!! <<<

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

bullseye, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Are you the insufferable, cocky, absolutely-no-good-for-anyone female equivalent of a fuckboy? Maybe. Okay, yeah. But guess who decided to come along and interrupt your conquests? Jeon Jungkook. What now? Complain to your best friend Kim Taehyung all day or fucking do something about it?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; alcohol consumption; Taehyung getting shitfaced lol; you're a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook, welp; schemes; smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping in public, cowgirl, m-masturbation, edging / orgasm denial, penetrative sex, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; (secretly pining) fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung; mostly reader's POV with a short JK's POV

yes, it's purple-haired Butter JK

--

now playing – 마.피.아. in the morning by itzy

“Are you kidding me? Fucking Jeon Jungkook, again?”

“You need to calm down,” Kim Taehyung said, patting your shoulder and handing you a mojito.

“What I need is a fucking bow and arrow to shoot down this fucking pest!”

“I know you were the archery champion in high school, but that’s still a weird thing to think,” replied that baritone voice, pushing you into a chair so he could sit down as well, observing you violently chugging down the entire mojito in your rage. He seemed highly amused, looking a bit like a young French socialite in a black beret, loose tan dress shirt, and black slacks with black loafers. Gold accents because Kim Taehyung was that bitch. “Never ceases to impress me that you can do that.”

You pulled the glass from your lips, ice and mint clinking. “This is the third girl I’ve been dating that he’s just–” You flapped a hand in the general direction of the crowd at the bar, completely ignoring Taehyung’s comment about your record-breaking skills of draining cocktails. “–unashamedly making out with when clearly I’m right here.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, far too crass for how drop-dead handsome he was, but it seemed that he didn’t care. “I doubt he knows you’re here or that you’re dating them. And to make it fair on him, you were casually dating them all at once, so technically, no one is at fault here,” he added.

You narrowed your eyes. “I wasn’t–”

Taehyung gave you this look.

The look of ‘shut-up-you-know-I’m-right’.

Being your best friend, he had a right to do that.

“Shouldn’t you be mad at the girl anyway? Being faithful and all that, which, by the way, you are not.”

“Dating is not the same as being in a relationship,” you argued.

“Mmm, so fucking them is not indicative enough that you should be less of a fuckboy.”

“I’m not a fuckboy,” you muttered. “I’m a woman.”

Taehyung raised an eyebrow. “The general term still stands because you’re a class-A asshole.”

You closed your eyes and sucked in a deep breath, trying not to bolt home and buy a bow and arrow online to shoot, not Jeon Jungkook, but Kim Taehyung, because he was testing your last nerve with the truth.

“Again, why are you not mad at them?” Taehyung reoriented the conversation with a sweep of his arm when you opened your eyes, prompting your gaze to shift and witness Jeon Jungkook with his tongue down a pretty girl’s throat. This cheeky bastard was even wearing a leather jacket and white shirt, just like you. The only difference was that you wore a leather miniskirt and he wore black jeans with rips in the thighs, but both of you were wearing heeled black moto-style boots.

“Because he’s the denominator in this equation,” you snapped, smacking your glass on the table.

“Please do not make math references. My brain is not made for that.”

“Fractions? Tae, seriously, are you defective or–”

“Maybe he’s doing it to piss you off.”

“Well, I am pissed off!”

The bar was very loud with music and noise. Your shout was still clearly heard. Neither you or Taehyung seemed to care that people turned to look at you two and shake their heads.

Taehyung shrugged. “Then he succeeded.”

You clicked your tongue. “Why, though? I didn’t do anything to him. He just started popping up stealing my girls. What if I switch back to chasing dick and he takes them too?”

Taehyung snorted. “I doubt it. You’re just continuing on this train because you’re stubborn.”

As usual, he saw right through you.

He raised an elegant hand and tapped his lips. “Maybe he likes you.”

You gave Taehyung the most disbelieving, fiery, indignant look that you had ever produced in your life.

“Or, he doesn’t,” he hastily corrected. “Let’s face it, sometimes I don’t even like you and I would murder for your dumb ass.”

You tapped the melting glass of icy mint onto the tabletop.

Menacingly.

“If you think about it,” Taehyung began tentatively, scooting his chair slightly away from you with your flaming eyes boring holes in the back of Jeon Jungkook’s head. His hair was dark violet now so you could spot him easily, pinning your (not yours, but you know, that was your prey at one point) girl against the back wall of the bar. “He always goes after your target. He wants you to notice something.”

You watched a YouTube video once about making your own bow and arrow. It didn’t seem that difficult, all things considered. Sharpening a long stick with a knife and–

“Stop thinking about murder.”

You jerked your head back to Taehyung and his honey-brown curls framing his amused expression. You glared in response.

“I’ve never interacted with him a day in my life,” you frowned, abandoning your homicidal tendencies for the moment. “What does he want me to notice?”

Taehyung gave you a pained look. You returned with a black stare. Then he sighed and shook his head.

“He’s a fuckboy. You’re the female equivalent of a fuckboy. What do you think he wants?”

“My body count?”

Taehyung slapped his own face, muttering under his breath. “… be part of your body count.”

“Sorry, what?” You raised your voice over the bass. “Can’t hear you over the music.”

He raised his head. “I don’t know. Fight him. See what happens.”

“I’m not gonna win a fistfight.”

Taehyung looked ready to fistfight you.

You stood up, dragging him by the arm. “Come on, wingman. I need another drink. I’ll buy, since you got me the last one.”

Taehyung laughed, loud and full, yanking his arm out of your grip and clapping a hand around your shoulders, pulling you to him so your body knocked into him. You grimaced, now forced to walk side by side with him, not seeing the looks shared between the patrons witnessing you two together.

“Now we’re talking. I wanna get trashed.”

“Cure for a broken heart, am I right?”

“Mine’s shattered,” Taehyung chuckled, rubbing the left side of his chest playfully, but you couldn’t help but notice the hurt in his eyes. It was his idea to go out tonight and assist you with getting laid but, one, you didn’t need assistance and, two, he had recently broken up. It was pretty obvious he just wanted you to buy him drinks and have an excuse to do something.

Which was fine with you, until Jeon Jungkook showed up holding your previous eye candy.

Hmph.

Whatever, you had a Taehyung to nurse back to health with an obscene amount of alcohol.

-

Two hours later, you were standing in the men’s bathroom, holding Taehyung’s beret with one hand and his hair in the other as he vomited loudly into the toilet.

“Sup.”

The guy looked in the stall and then looked at you.

“You’re not supposed to be here…”

You raised an eyebrow. “You wanna hold his hair?”

The guy slunk away at your dismissive tone.

Taehyung tapped your thigh and you patted him on the head soothingly. He flushed and coughed.

"S... sorry," he croaked wetly.

You chuckled. "Wash your mouth, ya nasty."

He got up and you straightened his clothes in an almost maternal fashion.

"Need water, I think..." he winced, stumbling past you to the counter. You followed him to make sure he didn't hurl in the fucking sink.

"I'll be right back. Don't do anything crazy."

"Heh, that’s you," he slurred as he put his hands under the tap to wash up.

You plopped his beret on your head and sauntered out of the men's bathroom, unbothered by the stares and the people trying to catch your eye. It took you no time at all to waltz to the counter and obtain the water, striding back to the men's bathroom with the tall glass.

Only to run into you-know-who.

The girl sputtered your name in surprise as if she hadn't met you in this very bar a couple of weeks ago.

You completely ignored her existence, narrowing your eyes at the smirking face of Jeon Jungkook.

There was no denying his attractiveness. His purple hair was a little messy now, curling around his high cheekbones and large brown eyes. The dim light of the bar cast strange shadows over his chiseled jaw and shapely lips, curved into a devilish grin. He had a mole and red lipstick residue underneath his lower lip.

You had a strong urge to douse him and his leather jacket with your giant glass of water.

Taehyung was the one who found out Jungkook's name for you. You sent him on the mission after the first time this little shit started meddling in your business.

At this moment, you remembered that.

You pointedly looked away, walking past Jungkook, knocking into his arm forcefully and on purpose, annoyed that he seemed pretty strong under that jacket, muscular and lean. Whatever. You had a large bear cub named Kim Taehyung to take care of. You didn't have time to waste on Jeon Jungkook.

"Hey."

You stiffened at the deep, silvery voice. Of course. He had to have a sexy voice too. Bitch.

"You should apologize."

Your eyes flickered to the glass of water. It was pretty cold in your hand. You raised your chin back up, facing towards the bathrooms.

The choice was easy.

You continued waking and raised your free hand to flip Jeon Jungkook the bird, off to deliver the water to your best friend.

Some guy at the urinal screamed as you entered the men's bathroom but you completely ignored him, only focusing on Taehyung, who was gripping the corner of the sink, turning not to pass out, pallid face dripping and looking green.

"Drink this and I'll take you home."

-

"Ugh, thanks for the other day... sorry I wasn't the best wingman... I ended up making you exorcize my demons instead..."

You laughed, jabbing a toothpick in the steaming fried chicken. You and Kim Taehyung again, hanging out in the afternoon at the local chicken spot.

"It's cool. I know you needed it."

Taehyung frowned. "If you knew, why did you play along?"

You shrugged. "You would've done the same for me."

He smiled and popped a piece of crispy chicken in his mouth. "Yeah, if you ever had a serious relationship for once."

You glared. "This is a non-judgment zone. Shut up."

He chuckled. Then he leaned in and you grimaced, catching a whiff of his chicken breath. He was wearing a pinstriped shirt and neglected to button the first two because he was too hot to bother with some stupid buttons. You weren't going to say you could relate, but you were wearing a loose black sweater dress that was bordering on flashing your panties, so, maybe.

"I heard from a little birdie that you had a run-in with the bane of your existence."

You raised an eyebrow. "The tax man?"

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "No, the other one."

Now it was your turn to roll yours. "Oh, right. The Dark Lord."

Taehyung gave you a weird look. "Is that a movie reference or..."

"Harry Potter, ever heard of it?"

"You're such a nerd."

"That's not... anyway, so what?"

He wiggled his eyebrows. "He spoke to you."

You narrowed your eyes. "Where do you get your information?"

He fidgeted. "Uh... a reliable source that chooses to remain anonymous."

Your eyes became slits. "Who."

Taehyung stick his tongue out at you. "The whole point of anonymous is you not knowing!"

"Who are you, fucking Rita Skeeter–"

"Stop with the weird references!"

"For fuck's sake," you hissed, causing a mother sitting at a table near yours to chastise you, covering their kid’s ears. You frowned, lowering your voice. "Alright so what? He opened his mouth; nothing original came out." You jabbed another piece of chicken.

"Well? Feel any tension? Sweet romance? Unbridled fury?" Taehyung piped, greatly interested in your two-second interaction with Jeon Jungkook.

You chewed, huffing. "I had a big kid to take care of. I didn't give a shit."

"Hey, I'm not a kid!" he shot back.

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, you’re more important to me than poking his pretty eyeballs out of his head, so I didn't even reply."

Taehyung paused, mid-chew. "Really?"

"Yes, I didn't say–"

"No, that I'm important to you."

Taehyung was doing that thing where his big brown eyes went all sparkly and sentimental. It was making you uncomfortable. Bad with feelings and all that. The only reason you tolerated it was because Taehyung had been like this ever since he was that dorky weird kid you defended from bullies in elementary school. A folding chair was involved and you might have watched too many WWE TLC (tables, ladders, chairs) matches as a kid, but hey, those bullies didn’t bother Taehyung ever again, did they?

You got sent to detention for the rest of the year and anger management counseling appointments, but Taehyung remained your friend throughout the whole ordeal and for years to come, tolerating your poor life choices so… worth?

You reached over and shut his open mouth. "Of course, you are, that's why I'm not calling you a disgusting pig for chewing with your mouth open."

"Oi, that's bullying!"

"You bully me all the time," you snorted and the same mom made a noise of distaste that you pretended not to hear. "Like now you keep bringing up the spawn of Satan."

"You're also the spawn of Satan, by the way."

"Yeah, and you're my guardian angel and he ain't got shit, so I’ve already won this war."

Taehyung laughed nervously.

"Er, yes... totally..."

-

Another day, another conquest.

Well, you had to find the prey first, but that wasn’t going to be hard.

“You’re a chronic asshole.”

“Thanks, Tae. You sure you don’t wanna come?”

He rolled his eyes at you as you shrugged on one of his black dress shirts. You checked the tag. Silk. Damn. Kim Taehyung was a fancy bitch. He leaned against the closet doorframe as you fitted your black leather corset-style belt at your waist to cinch it in. You often raided Taehyung’s closet and paired it with your accessories. Did he enjoy your fucking in his clothes? Probably not, but you always returned them cleaned in the proper way, so he couldn’t complain.

He did anyway.

“No, I don’t. Let me sulk.”

“Ah, yes, moody starving artist, I’ll let you be,” you snickered, slinging the waist bag over your shoulder, wearing it across your chest instead of your hips. You lightly punched him in the arm and he pretended to topple over exaggeratedly. “You going to paint today?”

He shrugged. “I think. Dunno what media I want to use.”

“Just use a bunch of different ones. Your mixed media stuff is amazing,” you replied, waltzing out of his bedroom, past his messy studio with a blank canvas balanced on a wooden easel in the center of absolute chaos of paints. You helped him organize them once, but Taehyung often was too in the zone to pay attention to neatness.

“When’s the exhibit? I want to drop by,” you commented, seeing the line of his works safely wrapped up, leaning against the wall.

“Um… next week, Thursday through Sunday,” Taehyung replied sheepishly, cheeks flaring red at the mention of his own art exhibit. He was humble even though he was talented. “I’ll text you the address. Don’t show up looking like a high-paid escort.”

You tucked your feet into your heels and raised an eyebrow.

Silk black men’s shirt worn as a dress, belted at the waist to show off your curves, bare legs out, toned calves standing out due to your sleek black high heels.

“Who, me? Never.”

Taehyung shook his head. “Text me if you need a ride.”

“You got it.”

-

“You have got to be kidding me.”

You tapped your nails on the bar, having already finished your peach mojito.

“Fucking Jeon Jungkook, again?”

You needed to invest in a bow and arrow, like, yesterday.

Shoot right between his pretty eyeballs. Dude even pulled back his long, deep purple hair into a smooth ponytail with wispy strands framing his sculpted face. Was that damn eyeliner and mascara making his eyes look sharper, sexier? Fuck, he even knew how to make himself look even hotter.

Not as hot as you, of course.

“How does he always know where I’m at?” you muttered under your breath, turning away to look at the bartender and order another mojito. Watermelon. It seemed interesting. Fuck it, you were going to focus on drinking rather than the thorn in your side, Jeon Jungkook and his black dress shirt halfway buttoned and his tight-fitting black slacks with sleek oxfords. The bartender slid your glass in front of you, a gradient of pink to transparent with a little sprig of mint on top. It was a pretty drink.

You reached into your waist bag to pay, but the bartender stopped you.

“The gentleman over there paid for you. A gift.”

Oh? Maybe a potential for the night. You shifted your gaze to–

Oh.

“Tell him to fu–”

But the bartender was already off servicing other customers on this busy night.

Shit.

You know what? Fine. He put himself up as the target. He wanted to play this game.

And you never missed a bullseye.

You tilted your head to survey Jeon Jungkook out of the corner of your eye, making his way over to you, bringing your drink close to your lips. He stopped right next to you. The colorful lights of the club made rainbows dance across his lightly tanned skin and his dark lips, curled into a smug smirk.

“Hey.”

You cocked an eyebrow.

Drank.

Mmm, fuck, that was some deliciously smooth rum. The watermelon was a refreshing addition to the mint too. You probably weren’t meant to drink it all at once, but you were glaring at Jungkook who was pointedly watching your throat swallow and it was aggravating you more and more, the entire drink disappearing in record time, leaving nothing but ice and mint.

You smacked the glass down on this table with a hiss.

Jungkook purred your name with that deep, silvery voice of his. His eyes flickered down to your exposed collarbones and then back up to your face.

You clicked your tongue.

Then you turned away from him dismissively, walking past him, knocking into his arm forcefully and on purpose.

But instead of letting it happen, Jungkook shifted his weight and slid to block your path. You stopped, eyes darting up to narrow at that conceited little brat’s face. Now you could smell his cologne, fresh, sensual, a mix of pungent dragon fruit and black coffee.

Hold on.

You inhaled. Yup, no mistaking it.

That was your perfume.

Jungkook grinned as the realization hit you. How did he know what perfume you used?

“The fuck you want?” you growled.

He licked his lips slowly. He ticked his chin, taunting you.

“Finally got you to talk to me,” he purred, chuckling.

Alright, you were past causing actual bodily harm these days – jail being your primary reason – but that didn’t stop you from staring down Jeon Jungkook and his self-satisfied smirk with your signature tapering of your sharp stare.

You just stood there.

Menacingly.

He bit his lower lip, exposing that tiny mole underneath, shivering under your gaze. “Are you mad at me?” he asked, almost innocently, but there was no chance in hell that he was.

You quirked your head, lifting your chin defiantly. “Absolutely fuming,” you replied acidly.

He took a step towards you, closing the distance, so close you could feel his warmth, your breasts brushing against his chest. Now people were whispering around you two, sensing the tension between you and Jungkook. The similar outfits, the same violent energy, the same predatory aura.

As if the fox had confronted the wolf.

“What’s there to be mad about when we play the same game?” Jungkook drawled.

Cocky. The fox was so damn cocky.

“You’re just nibbling on my leftovers,” you countered, stepping forward so you pressed against him, burning body heat to burning body heat. “Which makes you the scavenger.”

Jungkook leaned down, dark brown eyes glittering with amusement.

“Then why so angry?”

His lips ghosted over yours, breathing in your exhale.

“I’m just a pest, right? A mere annoyance in your eventual victory.”

His lashes lowered, arrogant smirk reaching his dark eyes.

“Play your ace. Let’s see if it works,” he purred in the deep, sexy octave of his.

Shut up.

A low snarl rumbled in your chest.

“Shut up, Jeon Jungkook.”

You gripped his belt and yanked him to your body, rolling your crotch into his, your lips colliding with that maddening smirk, alcohol, dragon fruit, black coffee, flint igniting the dry wood, devouring his lips hungrily, his hands sliding up your sides, and his smile.

Triumph.

-

Shit.

-

You couldn’t give two fucks about Jeon Jungkook and he was into it.

Like the impossible enigma, he couldn’t figure you out but he was drawn to you anyway. The whole world was your plaything, and you treated it as such. There was something exciting about you, the thrill too irresistible to avoid when you made your presence known. Always you and that teasing smile, never getting serious, making everyone hesitate to take it farther with you. Who could blame them with your borderline brash attitude and ease of moving from one to the next?

That and your friendship with Kim Taehyung, who was a whole damn tiger next to your wolfish nature.

At first, Jungkook was intrigued.

As time went on, he became frustrated and annoyed.

What gave you the right to ignore him?

You picked up guys far less attractive than he was, not that he was that vain but, seriously, he was right here! Waiting to be caught. He didn’t try to interfere at first. In fact, Jungkook wasn’t even the sleep-around-and-mess-with-feelings kind of guy. But the more he watched you, the more impressed he was, seeing the way you charmed your way into everyone’s hearts, the way you focused on them for that moment, making them feel like they were the most perfect creature on Earth before slinking to the next, leaving them with a pining heart and lost in fantasies of what-ifs.

And, yeah, you were hot.

What was Jungkook going to do?

He could do nothing.

Or he could befriend Kim Taehyung, get under your skin, and make you notice him.

Not a scheme, per se.

Kind of a scheme.

Alright, definitely a scheme.

In Jungkook’s defense, your best friend Taehyung was all for it. Taehyung was the one who came up with all the ideas, informed him of your location, and the names of the girls you were after.

“Give her a taste of her own medicine. She needs a reality check.”

The problem was, Jungkook didn’t really want to let you go now that you were in his arms.

-

“Silly pretty boy.”

You had his chin in your palm, pressing your thumb against Jungkook’s lower lip, opening his hungry mouth to tease him with your tongue, tracing his soft lips and thrusting in, his low moan filling your lungs. His hands on your waist tightened, pulling you closer even through you were already in his lap, murmurs and eyes on you, but neither your nor Jungkook cared, used to this by now.

You were, after all, making out in the club.

The chair scraped against the ground as Jungkook firmly placed your thighs on either side of his, thrusting upwards into your core, letting your feel his rapidly growing hardness with every one of your kisses. Your hair feathered his cheeks and shoulders as your free hand toyed with his ponytail, twirling it in your fingers, smirking into his lips with his gasp from you grinding back down on his crotch, rolling your hips into him.

“Thought I was the bane of your existence?” Jungkook taunted under you, squeezing your ass through the silk and meeting your movements, staring into your eyes with his. So dark, so smokey, so fucking sexy, almost like looking into a mirror, because you too wore similar makeup, maybe a little darker and a little more of a flick to your eyeliner. “Just going to kiss me to shut me up?”

You wouldn’t be surprised if the other clubgoers were eagerly watching now, waiting to see what was going to happen between you and him.

“I don’t need to be on your mouth to shut you up,” you mused, tugging his ponytail back and kissing down his neck, tongue tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling him shudder under your lips and teeth, lightly nipping at his skin. Tracing circles, gentle kisses, relishing in his gasps and his tightened grip on you, letting your breath linger for that extra second, that extra what-if, kissing back up his neck and onto his jawline, murmuring his name sweetly, tip of your tongue curling around his earrings and bouncing them, sighing softly in his ear.

“Can’t claim my leftovers when my leftovers are you, now can you, naughty boy?” you chuckled darkly, pressing your breasts on his hot chest and your clothed pussy on the tip of his stiff length, rutting against it, making him hiss your name.

“I have no intention of being leftovers,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes flew open as his lips transfixed to the space under your ear, sucking hard, forcing you to squeeze your thighs at the attack on your erogenous zone, sparks of arousal flinching through you, soaking your panties. You gasped, hips bucking into his needily, barely processing his words, his tongue flicking against your throbbing skin, lips and teeth, and then his mouth was moving, traveling up your earlobe, nipping at the curve, your eyelids fluttering, clutching his purple ponytail tightly.

How did he know? Did he ask your previous conquests to spill the information? There was no time to think, his hands traveling up your back, clenching fistfuls of your shirt and digging his nails into your back, your body responding and squirming against him, the quiet whine of his name escaping your lips and drifting right into his ear.

“J… Jungkook…”

He groaned, turning your head forcefully, him kissing you this time, just as ravenous, just as powerful, basically simulating sex in the middle of the fucking club with the way your hips were twisting into his and he was thrusting back against you, breathless, whispering in your mouth so only you could hear his words resonate in your chest.

“Fuck, you’re so hot, you turn me on so fucking easily, I just have to have you,” he murmured, his forehead pressed against yours, capturing your lips again and again. “There’s no way you’re any good for me, but I don’t care, fuck.”

You snickered, eye to eye, trapped in those expanding pupils and his heavy pants. “They say the same about you, Jeon Jungkook.”

You felt him smirk. “Nah, not me. No one calls me the spawn of Satan.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You sure? Because I do.”

Jungkook’s tongue licked your lips, making your shiver in delight. “That was special treatment. Just for you.”

Hold on a second.

Through your hazy buzzed brain, you began to piece the puzzle together. With each part falling into place, the amusement in Jungkook’s eyes grew and grew, seeing you fill in the missing blanks. Your eyes widened and you curled a finger around his ponytail, yanking roughly to pull his grinning face away from yours. You jerked back, but his strong hands held you in place.

Wispy strands of violet framing that devious expression.

“Taehyung,” you breathed, venomous.

Jungkook had the audacity to cock an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

You were going to kill Taehyung. That little shit! Taehyung was no idiot, so he must have planned this somehow. He always telling you to get serious and stop messing around. That’s why Jungkook always knew who you were dating, where you were, and what you were wearing! Did Taehyung recruit Jeon Jungkook to trick you? Fuck! He was dead meat, scheming against you like this!

Jungkook brought you out of your homicidal tendencies with a soft drawl of your name.

“For the record, he was helping me out,” he murmured, pulling you to him, pressing your chest to his. You narrowed your eyes, his hard cock still throbbing against your panties. “I want you.”

He lowered his face, breathing hard.

“Not just like this.”

Your eyes widened.

“I said I’m not going to be leftovers.” Looking deep into your eyes, holding you tightly. “I’m not going to let you throw me away like the rest.” Every inhale making your body rise into his touch, his deep, silvery voice saturated with lust and determination. “I’m going to make you fall in love with me as much as I am in love with you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but…

Jungkook gave you this look.

The look of ‘you-know-you’ve-already-lost’.

You could sit here and pretend, but you were also grinding back onto his dick right out here in the open, clutching his purple hair and his pretty face. His hard body was tucked snugly in your thighs. That smug little smirk. Shit, shit, shit.

Jeon Jungkook got you and he got you good.

He knew it too, his hands sliding down and grabbing your ass again, rolling his hips into yours.

“Come on. Let’s fuck.”

-

“Oh, fuck, yes, yes, yes!”

Jungkook threw his head back onto his pillows, exposing his straining throat, veins popping out, clutching your hips strongly to rut back against you as you smacked your crotch down onto him, riding him hard and fast, your hands next to his head, his long purple hair a mess even if it was still in the ponytail, sweat glistening on his forehead, moaning loudly with your walls closing in on his hardness. You were too busy fucking the daylights out of him to say anything, but Jungkook had plenty to say, hazy eyes opening and gasping as he viewed your body hovering over him, naked with his hickeys on your neck and breasts, strong thighs flexed on either side of him, his rock-hard cock repeatedly disappearing into your tight, wet hole.

“Fuck, I knew it, I knew you would be so fucking good and so fucking sexy,” he whined, nails digging into your hips and adding more force to your thrusts.

Your clothes and his clothes were all over his bedroom floor.

Your phone was on his nightstand.

Tonight, you sent one text to Kim Taehyung.

I’m gonna buy a bow and arrow and shoot you in the ass.

You screen flashed, indicating Taehyung had replied. One quick flick of your eyes and you smirked.

Oh shit.

Jungkook squeezed your ass, making your return your attention to him.

“Focus on me,” he begged, blown-out pupils. “Only me, please.”

“So needy,” you teased, licking your lips slowly. He groaned under you, mouth opening, his pretty pink tongue lolling out, desperate to be sucked. “If you think you can keep me, you’ll have to last longer than this, Jungkook.”

He swallowed hard at the way you said his name, a mixture of warning and desire.

“P-Please… it’s too good, I-I can’t…”

You redoubled your efforts, roughly slapping your hips into his, enjoying the loud sound and the way your core tightened, constricting him inside you, telling him he couldn’t cum until you did and deliberately holding yourself back, shifting your attention when you felt it rise, denying him over and over, until he was like this, whole body shaking, grasping your ass, sweat on his chest. His right arm, covered in tattoos, looking extra delicious in the moonlight, so fucking perfect with his forearms flexed with tension. You purposefully stared into his brown eyes overtaken with lust, his lips trembling from denying himself his own orgasm.

Jungkook whimpered your name.

On the verge of breaking, helpless at your command.

A sharp throb inside you, wildly turned on by his duality.

You smirked.

“Jungkook.”

You inhaled deeply, sighing in satisfaction with the wave of pleasure, intense shivering pulses running up and down his length, sinking down so he could feel it all, the tight and rough massage of your orgasm taking over, low moan of his name emitting from your throat, and Jungkook followed suit, louder and lewder, eyes rolling back as he shot into the condom with jerking hips, burying the twitching head deep inside you, swelling the latex with thick cum, rocking you back and forth on his length, your juices dripping down and coating the inside of your joined thighs.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck, so good, s-so fucking good…”

You know what, he was right.

It was so fucking good.

You savored it, the ecstasy that seemed endless and overwhelming, squeezing Jungkook between your thighs and moaning, just something about it, so satisfying and gratifying listening to his wheezing gasps and content whimpers, lowering yourself to his face, and he raised his, your hands sliding under his head, giving him what he wanted, light, maddening, carnal kisses, his cheeks, his chin, his quivering lips, whining your name, pleading with you to play with him more, more, tugging on his ponytail and his hands stroking your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between his index and thumb fingers, shaking at your hissing inhale.

“Hey,” you murmured, clenching him between your legs to get his attention.

Jungkook blinked at you, brown eyes unfocused, panting hard. “Y-Yeah?”

“You should apologize.”

The side of his swollen lips quirked upwards despite his fucked-out state. His deep voice was slightly hoarse. “What for? Tell me and I will.”

You raised an eyebrow. “For your scheming and using my own best friend against me.”

Jungkook smirked slyly.

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted you and made sure he had the condom before he pulled out, still semi-hard. You narrowed your eyes. He sure as hell didn’t sound sorry. Didn’t look sorry either, peeling the condom off and crawling over the bed to toss it in the trash before straightening.

“Sounding insincere there,” you remarked coolly, balancing your chin on the back of your knuckles, elbow on the bed, tapping the air impatiently.

“I mean it,” he purred, reaching for the towel beside the bed and knocking the condoms from his nightstand to the sheets. His right hand wrapped around his glistening length, still covered in lube and his cum, toned hips thrusting into his closed fist, grinning with his lower lip between his teeth as you watched him.

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Slowly jacking himself off as his eyes roamed over your curves, moaning lustfully, lingering on your legs, clutching the towel in his left hand so hard his knuckles were pale, forearms flexed, the slick head of his cock turning purple-red, emerging from between his closed fingers, throbbing as it was choked by his harsh grip.

“Let me make it up to you,” Jungkook shuddered, stroking faster, making wet squelching sounds, his muscular thighs bulging with effort.

Fuck, he was so damn attractive.

You kept an indifferent look on your face, raising your leg, your free hand sliding down, tracing the outside of your already wet opening. Those hungry dark brown orbs immediately fixated on it, moaning imploringly as you dipped your fingers in it, soft squishing noises as you spread open your soaked pussy, slipping a finger in your heat, gently thrusting.

He gasped your name, begging you.

It made you wetter, seeing his want. He knew it too, brutally fisting his cock, hips quivering.

“Stop.”

Jungkook whined despairingly, pulling his hand away, his stiff cock bouncing from the swiftness of the movement, cutting off his own orgasm. He sucked in a shivering breath, tipping his hips up to you so his glossy, hard length twitched.

You shifted, laying back against his pillows, opening your legs.

Smirk on your lips.

“Mmm, fuck, yes, fuck me with that.”

Jungkook smirked back.

It took him no time at all to wipe his hand and crotch off, ripping open another condom and moaning as he rolled it down, the mere contact of the thin encasement stimulating his sensitive skin. He slid up to you, gripping your knees and spreading you even wider, pressing the tip against your drenched heat.

He whispered your name, like sweet smoke.

“Hm?”

Jungkook leaned down, kissing you deeply as he sank into you, drinking in your gasp at the fullness.

“I’m going to make you feel so, so good,” he mumbled into your lips, pecking you softly.

He was about to retreat but your hands snapped up, tangling into his messy violet waves, clutching his ponytail. Jungkook blinked at you, questioning.

“Not too far away,” you said with a playful smile. “I wanna see that handsome face of yours.”

He bit his lower lip, tiny mole and wicked grin revealing themselves.

“Okay.”

He lifted his hips and plunged fully into you, the connection of your hips making a loud, wet smack.

“Fuck, Jungkook…!”

And you could tell from his elated expression and his furious pace that he was ecstatic at your response, chasing it, chasing you, moaning as you caught him between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, gaining some leverage and meeting his thrusts, fingers tightening in his soft hair, fuck, so beautiful, the way the pleasure overtook his handsome features, his hazy dark brown orbs shrouded in lust, his pink lip trembling in his teeth, sharp jaw set, but still maintaining a little bit of that cunning exterior that ensnared you in the first place, unknowingly at the time, the side of his lips ticking up, this cheeky bastard.

Jungkook saw the way you looked at him.

He adjusted the position, hitting deeper, swelling inside you, and, fuck, you couldn’t help it, you smirked too because he was so, so full of himself and so were you, insufferable, troublesome, competitive even now, the obscene smack of his crotch hitting your hips, wet and noisy, the squish of your juices smearing against his inner thighs as you wildly matched his rapid, bruising rhythm, your moans blending together, sweet hot harmony, his bedframe ramming against the wall, and, as usual, neither of you caring, far to occupied with yourselves, pleasure snaking between you, up your spine and into your head, mixing with the light buzz of alcohol, a different kind of euphoria from every other one-night stand, because this was Jeon Jungkook and he wasn’t going to be a one-night stand.

His lower lip popped out of his teeth and he gasped your name.

Longingly, breathlessly.

Was he thinking the same thing?

You lifted yourself a little, your hands molded to his head, whispering intensely against his shaking lips.

“Don’t worry, Jungkook. We have all night and the morning.”

Fuck, he had a brilliant smile.

It was actually doomed for you, but you weren’t mad about it.

Eye contact, and he didn’t waver, thrusting deep into you, low moan pulled from his chest, jolting shudders sliding down his shoulders and then in between you and him, his cock twitching and spilling into the condom again, roughly clamped by your tightness, and you were already there, falling over the edge with a soft cry, straining your neck and pushing his head down to you to collide your lips with his, greedy for his kiss, his taste, his whimpers at your forcefulness.

“Jungkook, ah…”

He said your name in the same tone, delicate and possessive, a bullseye right to the heart.

-

“On one hand, I’m glad you’re finally serious about someone.”

You paid absolutely no attention to the annoyed baritone voice of your best friend.

“On the other hand,” Kim Taehyung gritted out, smacking you in the shoulder blades as you crawled into Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kisses intensifying, a needy whine in his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. “Really feeling like a third wheel, you two! Stop making out for one goddamn second!”

He threw up his hands as both of you pretended to be deaf.

-

interlude respect drabble — "how much did you see?" popcorn drabble — "who are they?"

part ii threesome, ft kth — got it bad

--

masterpost

[ageofevermore]

Eighteen | T. Holland

Summary → you’re tired of feeling like the world silences you, but after an interview with sebastian and anthony, you start to wonder if maybe it’s your fault.

Warning(s) → mentions of anxiety, mentions of sexual harassment, mentions of inequality in gender roles, use of the word slut, fluff if you squint 

Word Count → 1.9k

Note → this is a heavier topic, one that might be personal to some. if you don’t think you can handle the subject matter, please don’t force yourself to. this is relatively watered down, but it doesn’t take a genius to see what’s not being said. the ending features boyfriend!tom consoling the reader, so it does end on a fluffy note, but don’t hold out for those few ending paragraphs. 

add yourself to my taglist 

It’s getting hotter in the interviews. A thin layer of sweat sparkles on your skin, and even though the air conditioning has been turned down multiple times, there are too many people in the room to feel any drastic differences. It’s unfortunate for you. Hot flashes are a lovely addition to your anxiety disorder, and press always sets your nerves ablaze. It doesn't matter what project you’re promoting, who you're partnered with, or what you're wearing-- you’re always hot. 

Your cheeks are flushed dangerously when the last interview before lunch is called for yourself, Sebastian, and Anthony. This is your first press tour as an adult. You joined the marvel franchise years ago, when being eighteen felt like the equivalent of turning thirty, and you weren’t blind to the changes of tone. People were harsher to you, more forward. If they weren’t shutting you up, they were hinting at something less then appropriate, usually something sexual. 

The next interview started with a short introduction to the media outlet, and your interviewer. He was middle aged, kind smile, salt and pepper hair. He asked for your names, then he told you his, and one by one he shook your hands. His grip on you was criminal, lasting longer than was comfortable. Sebastian and Anthony we’re oblivious to the few extra seconds of contact between you and him, but it made your skin crawl in a familiar discomfort. 

Your fingers curled into fists, heart high in your throat. The questions started out easy. They were mostly directed towards the boys, like always, but this time you couldn’t find yourself to be annoyed. You had dealt with handsy and sexually charged men before, but he set a fire beneath you. It wasn’t behavior you should tolerate, but being a woman in the industry, inappropriate touches and glances we’re easier ignored then dealt with. When you spoke up you caused drama, made headlines, attracted nasty social media comments that called you a whore. It was easier to just internalize. 

“Y/N.” 

You hummed, looking towards the call of your name. He was smiling sweetly at you again, a predatory glint in his eyes that put you on edge. You shifted your weight closer to Anothony unconsciously giving the hungry man your professional attention and a nod. 

He shuffles through his index cards, but his eyes don’t read the scripted questions his employers have supplied him with. It’s not often male interviews do their own research, usually they’re briefed by a colleague and handed a set of questions and topic point by a higher level employee, but this man doesn’t even read the card before he’s staring you down and opening his mouth. 

“You finally got the Stark suit update,” He says, motioning towards the promo poster that shows off your CGI suit in all of its edited glory. Although the actual costume is breathtaking, the computer effects give it an entirely different, more technologically charged, feel. 

“Yeah,” You nod, a forced smile on your lips as you try to ease the uncomfortable tension from your tone. “She’s finally--” 

He cuts you off before you can give him any explanation for the upgrade. He isn’t the first one to address your new wardrobe, but he’s the first one to leave you antsy and uncomfortable. Sebastian frowns when you’re cut off, but he doesn’t think much of it. He lets the man continue, though a professional sharpness pulls his grin into a scowl. 

“Were you able to wear undergarments underneath it? It’s tight, doesn’t leave much to the imagination. Was there ever a moment where you reflected how much your wardrobe has changed through the years?” He asks, a dirty grin on his lips. 

Sebastian and Anthony are shocked at the blunt, inappropriate construction of his question. The public eye knew nothing of your battles with body image, or health concerns that lead to surgery. Your mind was plagued with doubts and self-criticism, and his invasive, pervy question both infuriated you and broke you apart. 

You stutter to find an answer, heat overwhelming you. Your hand grips onto Anthony’s arm, and you can’t decide whether anger is what burns your skin or anxiety. Are you making a big deal of this? You don’t know. You feel like you have every right to feel violated and uncomfortable, but you’re a young woman in the entertainment industry, isn’t this the kind of ignorant commentary you signed up for? You don’t know anymore. You grew up with people always having an opinion on your appearance, sexualizing you as early as twelve. You’ve carried around pepper spray and  self-defense keychains long before you even had an understanding towards predatory men and sexual assault. You’ve been conditioned by the world and the media to carry on with your day, no matter the broken boundaries or disrespect. You’re tired of remaining silent, feeling like your less than your male counterparts. Women and men should hold no differing values in society, and yet you walk to your apartment with keys between your fingers and Tom doesn’t even lock his front door. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate question.” You choke out, voice hard and nowhere near the soft and frilly pitch it usually obtains. You’re livid, absolutely pissed to the point of a quivering cupids bow. You’re humiliated, and horrified. Your feelings are everywhere, but you remain as professional as you can. If you yell, try to defend yourself at all, you’ll be painted as a diva in every media outlet for the next week, subliminally inviting backlash and slut-shaming comments into your social media messages. If Sebastian and Anthony come to your defense, they’ll be sung high-praises. 

The double standards men and women are held to, especially in the industry, is infuriating. 

He stumbles out a response, but his time is already up. For the first time today, you’re thankful these interviews are only ten minutes. He leaves the room, shown out by security, and even then he still sends you a wink over his shoulder as if your glimmering eyes meant nothing. 

“Hey,” Sebastian's voice is soft, his hand on the small of your back. You flinch away from his contact, head heavy in memories you’d rather forget. 

“Sorry,” You mumble, voice trembling with tears that you refuse to let fall. You’ve already been humiliated, you don’t need to further paint yourself as some helpless teenage girl. “I’m sorry. I’m going to go find Tom.” 

Anthony and Sebastian nod tightly. They watch as you quiver in your heels, hands clenched into fists at your sides. They’re proud of the way you handled yourself, though still absolutely enraged that any adult would find it appropriate to address you like that, especially in a professional setting. 

You stumble into the dressing rooms, right into your boyfriend's chest. Your mind is racing, but the minute you attach yourself to him, you break down. Shy sobs break Tom’s heart. He holds the back of your head to his chest, other hand on the small of your back and wrapped around your waist as you cry. You’re trying to stay quiet, but the attention is already on you. Chris and Robert are worried, and Zoe’s trying to act like she hasn’t noticed, but they don’t all watch as you try to console yourself with your boyfriend's warmth. 

“What happened?” Tom’s voice is soft, trying to keep this a private moment. He tries to move the both of you back into a corner, but you panic and squeeze around his waist tighter. “Baby,” 

You and Tom have been dating for six months, and although you’ve shared with him stories of your traumatic experiences as a woman living in LA, he’s never seen anything upset you like this. 

“I’m such a slut.” Your words come out so shy and small, you aren’t even sure you can hear yourself. No matter how  many times you tell yourself that your makeup and clothes don’t give men permission to make passes or feel you up, it’s getting harder to believe that your verbal consent is as strong as your clothes. Maybe you are asking for it, and in a wave of nausea, disgusted with yourself, your arms leave Tom’s waist to pull at the bottom of your borrowed dress. 

You’ve been hit on in sweats before. In ball gowns and crop tops. Somebody’s even pushed themselves against you while you wore Tom’s hoodie, but you still convince yourself that it’s your fault. That you we’re asking for it. 

Tom’s jaw sets harshly into place, and he tilts your chin upwards to meet his eye. His brown stare is hard, only adding to your distress. Maybe he agrees. Maybe he’ll blame you for what just happened. He’s probably going to break up with you. Other guys just can’t keep their hands and eyes off of you. He doesn’t want a slut for a girlfriend. 

“What the fuck did you just say, Y/N?” His tone causes you to flinch, words bouncing off of the dressing room walls. Everyone flinches, hearing only his heavy response. You try to divert your attention, but Tom squeezes your jaw, forcing your eyes back on his. “Say it again.” 

“I’m such a slut.” You sniffle, submitting beneath his fiery glare. Tensions are high as you try not to break down again. Apart from Tom, everyone in the room has watched you grow up, never losing that shy and sweet sense of yourself. You’re an exuberant light, a brilliant scene partner, a rising star who has big things in store for the future. You are many things, but a slut, isn’t one of them. 

Tom looks behind you, glaring straight at Anthony and Sebastion who are both stone eyed and still. They’ve not calmed down any since leaving the production room, instead, it seems their anger has only risen. The sight of you so distraught churns their stomachs. 

“Some asshole tried to make a pass.” Sebastion said in short, words angry and delivered as such. 

Tom’s breath hitched, his arms tightening around you and pulling you closer to his chest. His chin digs into your crown, eyes pinches shut as his hot exhale feels heavy. 

“You aren’t a slut, Y/N.” He doesn’t leave any room for argument, but you try anyways. Tom has no patience for it, and so he tilts your head back and plants his lips against yours harshly and eagerly, desperate to show you love and intimacy. “You. Aren’t. A. Slut.”

You nod, ducking your head back down into his chest as you try to believe him-- try to remember that you never asked for hands around your waist, or cupping your boobs. Wolf whistles, or handshakes that turn into forced frontal hugs. You didn’t ask for any of the harassment, no matter the outfits you wore and what they revealed.  

Tom lowers his voice, whispers melting into your hair, “This isn’t your fault, baby. Please believe me. None of this, is your fault. It’s disgusting and inappropriate, and you don’t deserve to deal with any of it.” 

You sniffle. You can’t tell him you believe him, not yet. Not when your heart is so heavy. Maybe one day you’ll believe him, but that’s just not now. 

taglist (urls with a strike through won’t let my tag) →

@deionswannabegirl @killingbxys @mauvesdior @mischiefandi @dmonchld @waddlenut @tanakaslastbraincell @hollandsxheart @quacksonhehe @tothemoonandbackx3000 @stiles-o-dylan24 @tikapollak @tomthetease @spookybooisa @geminiparkers @teen--marvel @rogersparkerbarnes @sarcasticallywitty15

[erensproudsimp]

Rivalry

Jean kirstein x Eren Jeager x reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary: Threesome with Eren and Jean in the middle of a party? Hell yeah.

Word count: 2.4k

"So, how do I look?" coming from the bathroom you asked your roommate about your outfit.

"YOU'RE ABSOLUTELY STUNNING Y/N!This little black dress really brings out your curves, " Hitch squealed.

"Aww Thank you bestie! When are you getting dressed?" you questioned looking for your black heels.

"I was just about to, I bet this party is going to be the best ever organized this year," Hitch excitedly said.

"Right? Heard that almost all students are going, I feel like it's going to be crazy and moreover it's organized by Jean,"you added while wearing your jewelries.

Hitch came out in a sexy red sleeveless dress which suited her perfectly.

" Oh. my. god. Marry me right now, what did I do to deserve such a pretty best friend, "you flattered her wiping fake tears from your eye.

" Says the girl who's going to take all the boys' breaths and by boys I specifically mean Eren and Jean, "she replied eyeing you from head to toe.

"Sheesh Hitch, you know that I'm not interested in them right?" you said arms crossed.

"I don't know y/n, that little blush is saying something else. So who are you going to choose among them?" Hitch teased.

"I'm pretty both of them asked me out due to their rivalry with each other but I have no interest in helping either win," you said with a sigh.

"I mean you may never know that they actually do have feelings for you, I remember seeing Jean stare at you during class," she explained wearing her makeup. Smacking her lips to spread the lipstick, she turned to look at you, "At least give one of them a chance? Like two of the hottest guys on the campus asked you out, think about it y/n," she suggested.

"They were already my best friends but maybe until tonight I'll try to make a decision but for now let's go enjoy okay?" you beamed.

"Let's go impress some bitches, have some liquor, spit on our haters and have the best night of our life," flicking your hair back you left the dorm with Hitch agreeing with you.

Parking your car, you got out to admire the grandiose building belonging to Jean in sight. Muffled music could be heard through the walls.

"Maybe I should give Jean the chance," you said.

"Haha yes girl get that bag," Hitch giggled dragging you inside.

Laughter, people making out on the dancefloor, a background scent of sweat mixed with booze, you finally saw your friends near the bar counter. Conversations stopped the second everyone noticed me and Hitch's entry.

" All eyes on me in the centre of the ring just like a circus," you sang in her ear as she smirked.

Walking proudly to radiate your confidence, both of you went to the bar, the crowd going back to their initial interaction.

"Hey guys!" you shouted throwing yourself on Sasha.

"Welo," Connie replied with a drink in his hand.

"Where are the others?" Hitch asked them.

"Mikasa, Armin and Eren haven't arrived yet and Jean is ensuring everything is in control," Ymir answered hugging Historia close to her.

Ordering a glass of wine from the bartender, you sipped said drink while chatting with your friends. Right at that moment the trio entered through the door.

" Look they came,"Historia pointed at them.

" Hello everyone, where's Jean? "Armin asked.

You looked at Eren taking in how he was looking so attractive in an all black outfit. However, he did not once glance in your direction making you assume it was because you haven't yet given him an answer.

" There he is,"Mikasa said as the man in question neared the group.

" Is everyone having fun? "Jean enquired leaning on the counter.

His stance screamed dominance but in such a subtle way it was sensual. You tried to meet his eye but he didn't acknowledge your presence too. Well, it was what you were supposing to be as in in contrary both of them were enraptured with your appearance they couldn't bring themselves to look at you.

"I'm going to the dancefloor," you announced frustrated by the lack of attention you got from the two men after finishing your third drink.

Pushing your way in, moving to the music you tried to take off your mind off having to choose someone between them. A stranger came up to you to ask if they could dance with you. With no hesitation noticing how handsome he was, you let him hold you in his arms as a distraction.

"Not gonna lie, I'm gonna be shocked if she doesn't hook up with someone tonight, like look at her man," Hitch commented hoping to push either Eren or Jean to approach you.

"Right? She honestly looks so hot," Sasha added understanding what she was trying to do.

Like they hoped, the tactic worked as both men stood up together. They looked in each other's eye as though communicating telepathically passing one message and it was to not let anyone come near to you.

Heading into the crowd to find you, Hitch and Sasha high fived leaving everyone else in the unknown.

Searching all round, they at last found you dancing with a random guy, your body all over him. There was a cold fury in their eyes and Eren pursued his lips in anger. He went up to the guy and gave him a death stare. The stranger felt his blood drain from his face into his gut as he abruptly left you.

At first you were puzzled at why the guy just disappeared until you saw Jean and Eren and understood the situation.

"Mind if I dance with you?" Eren asked holding his hand out.

"May I too?" Jean rushed in not to let Eren take the sole lead.

Taking both hands smilingly you replied, "Yes, you both may."

Jean twisted you in his arms pressing your ass against his hips as Eren held your waist in his hands your chest against his, both guys grinding on you.

Eren leaned in and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You tilted your head to give him more access to the area as he licked his tongue over your so sensitive skin.

Jean feeling a bit left out took a glass of wine from a passing waiter grabbed your soft flocks in his hand and pulled it slowly to not hurt you. Your head was placed on his shoulder as Eren continued to nibble on your neck.

"Open your mouth," Jean ordered you his lips brushing your ear and you obeyed without arguing.

He then poured the wine from the glass into your mouth. Moaning through the process, the liquid coursed from your throat into your stomach spreading its warmth all over. Jean still grinding on you pushed his hips forward for you to feel his growing bulge.

Rhythmically swaying your body to the beats of the music playing, you brushed your ass to Jean's bulge and hips against Eren's. Being sandwiched between them was like a dream come true.

Eren's hands slid up and down your arms, head intact on your neck. Jean was not doing any lesser either as he bent over to reach the other side of your neck, his hot breath ruffling and began showering it with kisses.

Grabbing your chin to lift it up, Eren pressed his soft lips on yours tasting the alcohol from your mouth.

"Hey- that's not fair," Jean snatched you from Eren, threw your body on his shoulder and slapped your ass to carry you away. Shortly Eren followed, "Give her back to me!"

Jean made you sit on a bed gently, kissed you lightly on your cheek then went to close the door of the room but Eren busted in right before he could.

"Oh you're not having her all to you, not until I'm still alive," Eren stated.

"Fuck you Eren, I'm not going to let you have her either you know," Jean cursed him.

At this point you didn't know what to say as anticipation filled your being so you just allowed everything happen by itself.

Before Jean could do anything, Eren rushed to you, pulled you in his arms made out with you in front of him to make him jealous which of course worked.

" Jeager!" Jean shouted approaching you both.

Eren's tongue was roaming in all corners of your mouth to explore them, a small moan leaving your throat.

Both guys froze hearing that.

"Eren, move I want to be the one to make her create those cute sounds," Jean pushed Eren to replace his mouth on you.

Jean was more passionate than Eren, probably because of the jealousy he was feeling.

"How about we hear what y/n has to say?" Eren suggested.

"Yeah y/n, make a decision, it's either Eren or me," Jean continued.

"I-, guys trust me I've been thinking about this and honestly speaking, for me it's either both of you or no one. Don't get me wrong you're both equally amazing and handsome so choosing one is just unfair. I love you both but I'm not going to choose one I'm sorry. Moreover, I don't want to fuel the rivalry between you two," looking at the floor you replied. You thought that this would make them feel disappointed but in reality it was the contrary

" Y/n..,"Jean hugged you so did Eren from the back.

" I'm glad you didn't choose to reject one of us, "Eren whispered in your ear.

" Yeah I'm so pleased too, "Jean agreed lifting your chin to kiss the bottom of your neck.

" And don't appogise y/n, you're not at fault here, we are for asking you out because of our competition so let us make up for it, "Eren's voice holding the promise of sex.

His hands unzipped your dress pealing it off you to leave you in your black lace underwear. Both Jean and Eren's face went scarlet red on seeing you in this state.

From the back Eren's big, warm hands reached out to cup your boobs while nibbling on your shoulder. In front Jean knelt down on you to kiss you on your stomach as his hands were caressing your curves.

Taking Eren's face in one hand, you stroked his face with your thumb, the other hand in Jean's hair playing with it.

"Can I?" Jean asked indicating to the removal of your undergarment.

"By all means, do whatever you wish," you gave both consent.

Seizing this opportunity Eren unhooked your bra and let it fall to the ground.

"You're so beautiful y/n," Jean gasped.

Your body chose that moment to shiver.

Not being able to control it anymore Eren lifted you in bridal style dropping you lightly on the bed. Ripping his shirt of his toned body, your eyes were locked on his abbs. Jean lost no time in taking his off too.

You were mesmerised. Those men were built like fantasies, their chest sculptured with the honed muscles of a god.

"Come here."

To your astonishment they obeyed sitting on each of your sides.

"What do you want us to do angel?" Jean asked with such adoration in his eyes.

"Tell us your deepest desires, we will make it a reality," placing his hand over your thighs Eren encouraged you.

"Use me as your plaything."

This one simple request was enough to send them off the edge.

"As you wish m'lady," Jean replied before kneeling in front of you.

More kisses along your neck by Eren while Jean split your legs to bury his face in between. You sucked in a deep breath.

Trailing his tongue on your inner thighs up to your soaked folds, Jean teased you.

Taking your mouth into a fiery kiss, sucking on your lower lip, Eren fondled your boobs. Sticking your tongue out to ask for permission he took it in without a second thought.

"Hmmm ah-," you panted on his mouth as Jean kissed your core, giving it a tender lick. Grabbing your hips to forbid you to move, he inserted his tongue in and out of you while rubbing your clit with his fingers. Pure heaven.

"You like that huh?"

You threw your head back at his words humming a yes, Eren proceeding to move from your neck to your collarbones to mark himself on your skin. A slight pain overcoming with pleasure sent chills down your spine.

"Jeaaann- ah- Ereenn," you screamed their names turning them on more.

Shortly after your stomach clenched as you came on Jean's face.

"You taste so good y/n," he said licking his lips.

"Now's my turn," Eren declared unbuckling his pants topping you.

"You okay with this right?" he asked concernedly caressing your cheek. You nodded and looked over to Jean signaling him to come over your head.

Slowly penetrating his dick into your cunt, you stifled a moan as you were helping Jean take off his trousers, his hardened member sprung free from its trap.

As Eren was thrusting his hips in you moaning your name, you were jerking Jean off with your hand, him panting loudly.

"Y/n go faster please," Jean whined.

Spreading his precum oozing from the tip, your fingers stroked it down the shaft.

"Forgive me for what im about to do y/n," the unbearable thirst pushed Jean to shove his swollen dick into your mouth. You muffled a moan at his action willingly taking it. Moving your wet muscle inside your mouth, you sucked him.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good tightly wrapped around me," Eren breathed picking up speed. Your breath stuck in your lungs, your eyes rolled back.

Two handsome men fucking you senselessly, you couldn't be in any more bliss.

"Good girl," Jean petted your hair as you swallowed every drop of him. Collapsing next to you, he was gradually grasping his breath.

On the other hand, Eren was still going pushing and pulling into you and from you.

"Go ahead, cum for me y/n."

Your legs were practically shaking as you came a second time over him. Realising he was reaching his limit, he pulled out and released his hot fluid on your belly.

Out of breath, he fell onto you as you hugged him. Ruffling Jean's hair you tried to wake him up.

"Jean we have a party remember? now wake up, you don't want people thrashing your house. You too Eren, Mikasa must be worried sick by now with your absence," you advised both only for your words to fall on deaf ears.

Sighing you stayed still to enjoy their warmth a little more.

Just a little more.

End.

Thank you for reading this. :)

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Can Do Better (Rio x Reader)

Requested by anon, i’ve posted this for the third time and tumblr is being a fucking asshole to the point were i’m thinking of quitting this since every week I get a new way of them hiding my works. Enjoy it while it lasts

T.W. mentioning of attempted rape

(Y/n) had been Micks neighbor for a few months before the incident happened, this absolute dumpster was the only thing she could afford at the time, fresh out of college, in a foreign country without any family, but she was hoping to moving quickly. However, when Mick was coming home, he heard her screams and cries for help from the bottom of the stairs, he had seen her once or twice, even baked him cookies when he first moved in, she was nice and a quiet neighbor. 

He found (y/n) being held down by two men in masks and one of them try to rape her, she was begging and screaming, he almost acted on instict when he shot the guy in the back, the other tried to attack him and he also ended up with a bullet in between his eyes. (Y/n) thanked him and Mick had to stop her from calling the police. Instead they called Rio. He was met with two dead bodies, A girl in her torn pajamas shaking and crying and Mick trying to calm her down.

“Those motherfuckers”

Was all he said, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what had gone down, Rio was a criminal and balls deep in despicable things, yet he was proud to say he had never laid hands on a woman nor a child. He kneeled in front of her, took a good look at her eyes, her entire body shaking as she looked at him, you could sense the trauma she had been through.

Rio had heard of her when Mick told him about this little girl next door that baked him cookies as a welcoming gift, he recalled how his friend laughed when he mentioned that the girl asked him his opinion about the next tattoo she wanted to get. Now this happy light hearted girl was replaced because two men thought they are superior.

“Hi sweetheart, I understand this is hard, we will take care of everything alright? You trust us?”

“I had locked the door, I was sleeping”

“I know sweetheart, it wasn’t your fault. We’ll take care of you ok?”

“Thank you”

-

Since Mick had vouched for her and Rio had seen her at her worst they felt obligated to take her under their wings, maybe even help her earn a little more money, get a good car, pay her bills comfortably, that sort of stuff. Until one day she asked to do more, get initiated

“Mama this isn’t the playground, we ain’t playing cops and robbers”

“I know, but you said I am learning quickly, why not teach me more?”

“Why you wanna do this? All of a sudden you feel like being a gangster? You were shaking in your shoes a few months ago”

“I’m done being your little child Rio, I want to hold my own. I will do this with or without you”

Rio looked at her with a serious face. She was growing, becoming fearless, ruthless, he had seen it coming, she was picking up more slack, asking more questions, she wanted to prove herself.

“You’re threating me mama?”

“And what if I am?”

She quickly not only proved herself, she became one of his most valuable members, she was his secret weapon, nobody would suspect a young little hotel receptionist being linked to them. She worked twice as hard and smarter than most if not all his men, advised him wisely and was always cool, calm and collected, she worked best under pressure. Scared little (y/n) felt like had never even happened, she was his soldier now, she had Micks status and Mick couldn’t be more proud, he had a soft spot for her.

“Hey mister policeman, Have some room for another criminal?”

She joked as she leaned at the door of her car, waiting for the new little boy toy to get out of the police station. Now the normal question is why is (y/n) around a police man, there is a two part answer to that. Great lover and also great cover, she was his little thing, so nobody would dare blame you for any crime, the girl of the police man being a gangster? it sounded like a joke.

“Depends on what crime we are talking about miss”

“I can think of a few, we can put those handcuffs to use”

As he approached her she smiled and took off her sunglasses. She looked amazing in her blue loose ripped jeans and a simple oversized white t shirt, a chain necklace around her neck and some nice rings on her fingers as her hair fell  in front of her breasts, wearing a pair of high heels to style it up.

How you doing gorgeous?”

“Oh you know, thriving and surviving. How about you, I thought you had a day off today”

“Yes but I got assigned to a new case”

“Ohhhh should I be concerned? any criminal on the loose?”

“Not really, we are trying to find a link for this Rio guy”

Jackpot, this couldn’t have gone better. She tried to contain her smile and leaned back on the door, acting like nothing had happened.

“Oh I think you’ve mentioned him before, what did he do now?”

“Lots of things but motherfucker always slips away, chief thinks he has someone on the inside”

“Like a dirty cop?”

“Yes, so he wants me to look into it”

“Look at you, leading a case... Sexy”

The guy smiled at her, he was completely fooled and hooked. She hadn’t told anyone about her plan of seducing him to get information, she didn’t need to up until this point, yet what she did not calculate was Rio seeing her outside the police station talking to a fucking cop, the outmost enemy and being all close and cozy to him, acting all buddy buddy in broad daylight.

“I’m glad you like it miss”

“There’s a lot of things I like about you baby, anyway I have to go, I have a shift to clock in to”

“I’ll see ya later?”

“Maybe. Bye handsome”

At that (Y/n) got in her car and drove away. Rio was pissed, the girl he trusted and the girl he wanted was flirting with a policeman, how could she? He trusted her, taught her everything he knew, gave her everything with generosity and she was becoming a cops whore? Of course it wasn’t just about flirting with a cop, it was flirting with someone that wasn’t him.(Y/n) was a charming woman, he found her extremely attractive and she was even better now with the confidence she had gained over time, she was a woman he craved, the woman he wanted to have on his side, a queen that could hold the keys to his kingdom. Now all this was slowly shattering, no there had to be an explanation and he couldn’t wait to hear it.

Of course he could not just appear at her workplace, she was gracious enough to arrange a room for him incognito when Beth shot him, yet they had to act like strangers so all he could do was wait for her. 

“Hey boss, sorry I’m late I had to take care of a few things”

“Like that cop friend of yours?”

She had barely closed the door of his office before he blurred it out, he had this whole plan of making her confess by herself, except when he saw her he lost control. Betrayal and confusion clouded his mind, as she stood there a bit dumbfounded for a quick moment before smirking at him.

“Stalking much?”

“I like to make sure my people are in line”

“Really? Is that why Beth is still walking around unharmed?”

He knew how much that had shook her up, (Y/n) took care of him almost as good as the doctor, she stayed with him until he fell asleep, helped him renew his bandages and anything else he needed, even though she never said it he was aware she was extremely concerned for him and he was grateful for her care, which made it even more complicated considering the fact that he was slowly becoming more addicted to her, needing and wanting more than she gave him.

“Let’s just cut to the shit, what were you doing there?”

“Talking”

“Talking? to a cop? what is this (y/n) huh?”

She sat in the chair calmly, any normal person would have either shit their pants or told him what they were planning right away. (Y/n) on the other hand found this amusing, she had grown tired of him doing things without considering the danger he was putting himself, especially when it came to Beth and the others, if it was anyone else they would have been six feet under the second Rio opened his eyes, now he had cut them in once again and had almost gotten Boss status.

 “Yes, one of your little ladies is married to a cop, what’s the issue with me talking then?”

“Last time I check you ain’t never flapped your gums to a fed”

“I don’t flap my gums Rio, I have conversations and if you really want to know he is my new boy toy. He also was the one that told me about your case, how the fuck do you think I got the information? By holding interviews?”

Rio didn’t know how to feel, she was still working for him, had used her privilege to get information for him that had saved him a lot of money, however the whole “boy toy” thing did not sit well, she liked him, she gave him her time and even though she was stringing him along, she still had him in her life.

“You did what you were supposed to do and you got rewarded, so why you still talking to him”

“Don’t start the bullshit Rio, I’m not your daughter nor your girl so why do you care who am i fucking with”

“Where’s your fucking respect to your boss (y/n)?”

“Respect? how about where’s the respect for yourself? You let the suburban moms do whatever the fuck they are doing and I’m getting shit for having sex and getting you info from the feds?”

He was pushing it, he knew that and he didn’t care, it was time to reveal his cards and she was going to do the same, whether she liked it or not. Rio leaned back on his chair, his hand rubbing his chin as he looked at her, sitting there and looking right back at him, she wasn’t lying he knew that, she had a point for the suburban moms and she had expressed her disapproval for the little thing that was going on between him and Beth. What he did not understand was if she didn’t like it cause she was a tad bit jealous or because it fucked with their money and reputation?

“You are something else you know that?”

“Yet you still question my methods, if I remember correctly I wasn’t the one that planted three bullets in you”

“You are scared of losing me mama?”

She did not respond, she just turned and looked away from him. Of course (y/n) had picked up his little flirty remarks from time to time, she would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit she had thought of how he would be in bed, how his embrace would feel, his raspy voice was enough to start fantasies enough to make a book.

“Let’s say I am, what are you scared of Rio? Why do you care who I’m sleeping with?”

“He is a cop”

“A handsome cop, I’m sure you noticed how nicely that uniform was on him, let me tell you it’s even better when he sweats”

“I don’t need to hear it”

“Why? Does it bother you Christopher?”

She raised herself from the seat and placed her hands on the desk, leaning closer to him and making her breasts show just enough as her back curved in a perfect little S, she focused in his eyes as her tongue went over her upper lip. Rio got closer to her, his hand reached her face, as he held on to the side of her head and his thumb went over the lower lip.

“You’re not for him mama”

“Why not?”

“A woman like you is not for no goody two shoes, you can do better”

“Really? like who?”

They could feel each others breaths, their faces were almost touching as they both spoke in whispers, this conversation was not meant for no one else, they didn’t even have to speak as their body language was saying everything it needed to be said. She felt her breath become more swallow, his scent was getting her a tad bit flustered and so was hers to him.

 He wanted to take her right here and then, just the idea of her naked body was enough to drive him wild, her hair was so soft he could only imagine them stuck on her face from the sweat, the most amazing part was her lips, soft and full that made his mind go wild with the need to feel them in his lips and his body, the doors to her moans.

“I can show you better than I can tell you”

“Let’s get it then boss”

[mandoalorian]

Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 2

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Eventual smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - allusions to sex and MAJOR sexual tension hehe :)

Author’s note: Chapter 2 let’s go!! I hope everyone is enjoying so far! Remember if you wanted to be added to my taglist feel free to let me know!

MASTERLIST | SUBMIT REQUESTS

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER TWO - NEXT 

You had been mesmerised just from entering Black Gold Cooperative— but actually stepping foot in Maxwell Lord's office was a whole different story. The entire building was decked out in Christmas decorations, pine trees and tinsel on every corner, but as you stepped foot in his larger-than-life office, there was not a single thing that highlighted festive spirit in sight. Nevertheless, you were in awe, immediately taking in the paintings, the pottery, the statues… it was like every little thing was embellished in gold. You hadn't even laid your eyes on Maxwell yet, but he was certainly looking at you.

You weren't exactly sure what you took a man like Maxwell Lord for. You considered him to be the tacky kind— but every piece of furniture in his office looked antique— like it came straight out of a museum. You admired the paintings on the walls. One thing's for sure, you didn't expect him to be a man who appreciated art culture. They were magnificent, and of all different shapes and sizes.

Maxwell Lord slouched back into his chair and watched you intently, his dark eyes following your every move. You were like no other girl who had come in for an interview, that's for sure. You were dressed in a thick, cream coloured winter coat and he noted the hat and gloves that were stuffed messily into your pocket. Your wet boots left a puddle of water where you had entered his office and he noted the little snowflakes balancing in your windswept, knotted hair.

He was surprised, to say the least. The past week he had been conducting interviews in-attempt to find someone suitable for the job role at hand. Dozens of young girls would confidently strut into his office— their high heels clicking against the expensive marble floor. They would try wooing him with a bat of eyelashes, which of course, Maxwell did not shame their attempts. Despite their unsuccess at acquiring the job, Maxwell did make sure they got a little something from him in return.

The businessman's eyes darted to the trash can under his desk as he looked at the discarded silk handkerchiefs he had just used to clean himself up after his last interview. Then, he re-acquainted his gaze to you, and picked up on the fact that you had yet to acknowledge his presence. You were too caught up in the furnishings of his office. You really were different.

"Ms Minerva?" Maxwell called you eventually, clearing his throat. Not recognising your newly claimed fake name, you didn't budge, but instead let your fingers trace the countries of a world map that hung on the wall. Pins had been stabbed into the capitals of most countries and you wondered what it meant. Perhaps it was all the countries he had visited— or more likely, all the companies that had shares in his black gold business. "Ms Minerva." Maxwell repeated, his voice more solid this time.

You felt your body freeze up, wondering how long he had been calling you for. Shit, you thought. You really believe you had messed up— just stumbling into his office and paying no attention to him whatsoever.

"Oh!" you gasped, spinning around on the heel of your foot, almost slipping on the water you had trailed in with you. Maxwell couldn't help but let the small smirk creep upon his lips at your clumsy but innocent nature. "Your office is… it's so…" 

"What you expected?" Maxwell prompted, leaning over the desk slightly trying to get a closer look at you.

Something about your demeanor drew him to you and he couldn't place his finger on what exactly it was. He wondered what your deal was. He wondered why you had decided to attend possibly the most prestigious interview of your life dressed the way you had. You hoped he didn't think you were deliberately ignoring him.

"No- I mean. I'm not sure what I expected, really," You admitted with a small shrug before approaching an oil painting. "This is magnificent," you said. "I've never seen such intricate work before."

The painting was huge— quite possibly the biggest one in the room. It was posed, of course, and you wondered how long the poor models had to stand there to be painted. They were positioned on a grand staircase with a purple carpet rolling up it. They looked stern- mean- not an emotion in sight.

"That's a family portrait," Maxwell informed you from his chair. "My family." 

Oh.

You digested the image of the couple with their young son. The child was no older than ten, you guessed, with dark blonde-browning hair and he was dressed in a shirt, shorts and bow tie. The couple stood behind him, and the pair consisted of a beautiful woman with red hair and pearl earrings wearing a fur coat and sleek silk dress.  "Your wife is gorgeous." You said, quietly, entranced by the family portrait.

Maxwell paused, his eyes not moving from you for a second. "That's my mother." he deadpanned.

You curled your fingers into a fist at your own shameless and idiotic comment. You could not forget how much you needed this job— you had to do better.

"Oh," you replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you. "So that little boy is you, hm? Your hair is lighter nowadays," you smiled light-heartedly but Maxwell didn't share the warm sentiment. "You look just like your father." You admitted, eyes flicking between the suited man in the painting, and the suited man who was sitting at his desk behind you.

Both men were of an average height, with broad shoulders and the same, identical cunning smirk. Big brown eyes and swept but styled hair. You very little about the Lord family — to the general public, they were always an enigma. Tabloids would spread rumours and no one ever really knew the truth. You hoped you hadn't hit a nerve with the comparison, but as seconds went on, you cursed yourself for your inability to just keep your mouth shut.

Maxwell didn't reply to your comment, and the silence was deafening. For the first time, he looked away from you and into the light oak wood of his desk which he had inherited from his late father. He let a few sad thoughts ponder his mind as you continued to scower his office looking at all the high end decor, before taking a big huff of breath. It wasn't her fault, she couldn't know any better. Maxwell told himself, but it didn't hurt any less. 

Her words stung but he pushed them back as far as he could. Blocking out his emotions was something Maxwell had done his whole life and had become quite accustomed to. This was ridiculous. Maxwell wouldn't let himself get worked up over a brief comment about his father, by a girl wearing a last season winter coat who he had never met before. He stiffened up and cleared his throat.

"Ms Minerva, if you are going to just scope my office I'd be in my right mind to call security and have you thrown out." Maxwell sighed, tapping his fingers impatiently against the desk. Your head bolted towards him.

"Oh! I'm so so sorry." you pressed your hands in a pleading manner.

As Maxwell took in your form, his mind began to race. He could get used to looking at you like that. Pleading for him— on your knees— begging for just a taste of what he had to offer. The dirty thoughts consumed his mind and he shifted in his chair feeling a familiar fire in his lower stomach. Brushing past your pretty, doe-like eyes, he reached for a gold fountain pen and an expensive looking journal, opening it up.

"Why are you here?" Maxwell asked, dropping the pen, slouching back into his leather chair and kicking his feet up on his desk. You swallowed the hard lump that had appeared in your throat as you took in his posture.

"Uhm, well I- uh-" you struggled to find words. My god he was attractive. You hadn't paid much attention before, but now that he was sitting there right before your eyes, you felt a small warmth creep up between your legs.

He was just lounging right before you— his body spread out. He wasn't wearing the smart suit jacket as you had pictured, but instead, a crisp white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You could see the light hair on his arms glisten under the setting sun, and the yellow gold of his Rolex wristwatch sparkle as he played with the rings on his fingers.

Maxwell caught you staring at his hands. How could you not? Teasingly, he began rolling his jewelled rings up and down his long thick fingers. You found yourself biting your lower lip, pulling all your energy into suppressing a moan as you watched the way his fingers moved. You took in every detail, wanting to remember it forever— the light bronzed shade of his skin and the wrinkles over his knuckles. His nails were short but definitely well manicured. You let out the smallest gasp as you imagined how they would feel inside of you. You wondered how many of his fingers you could take and how they would stretch you open. You imagined his thumb rubbing circles into your clit as he finger fucked you and suddenly you felt your panties dampen. Your knees went weak.

He moved his large ring clad hands and folded them against his broad chest, a devilish smirk playing on his lips. You always wondered to what extent his magazine covers had been edited but he was just as handsome as he was on television, in real life. One thing you noticed was that his usual styled dark blonde hair was only slightly out of place, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone. It was a change from his ordinary pristine appearance. Seeing that you were struggling to answer his question, Maxwell pointed his finger and gestured you closer to him. You walked towards him and stood still in front of him, only his desk between you both.

"Take it off." he mumbled, his gaze strong and steady on your body. You swore your mind was playing games on you as you engulfed his dark choice for words. You were absolutely ready to submit to him but deep down you knew that you were over-thinking.

"I- I'm sorry?" You croaked out.

His smirk grew and a small dimple appeared in his left cheek. "Your coat. Take it off." He commanded and you mouthed a small 'oh' before following his instructions and dropping your wet winter coat to the floor.  You cursed yourself. You were ready to completely undress yourself for this man you had never met before. Did he have this effect on everyone? "Turn around." he prompted you, twirling his finger in gesture. You slowly spun around a few times and Maxwell was struggling to contain himself.

You were delightful— wearing just a pair of washed out flared jeans and a geometric print t shirt. The jeans were very 70s, flaring out at the bottom, and Maxwell wondered how out of date your wardrobe was. He wondered if you'd let him take you out clothes shopping. Maxwell felt flushed as he took in how perfectly the denim sculpted your thighs and the round of your ass. He found your body exquisite. The t-shirt was thin, and he was surprised you had opted for such a fashion choice in the depth of winter. Despite the central heating being turned on, he couldn't help but notice the way your nipples poked through your shirt, hardened from the cold weather— or so he assumed they were hard from the cold weather. You felt his eyes bore into your chest and you crossed your arms over yourself, hoping he hadn't spotted your arousal. Maxwell felt his cock twitch at the sight of you and he fought the urge to bend you over and fuck you right then and there on his desk. You had an air of innocence to you, and he didn't want to ruin that. At least, not yet.

"Is everything okay sir?" Your voice was soft like honey and a small grunt escaped Maxwell's throat. He had just gotten off with his previous interviewee but you were simply something else.

"Perfect," he hummed wistfully. "Please, take a seat." You obeyed his order and slid down into the chair opposite to him. "Tell me, Ms Minerva. What urged you to lie about your identity?"

You felt your heart stop and your fingers gripped the arms of your chair. Shit, you thought to yourself. He had caught on. You gulped and tried to find a quick witted yet believable response to him but it you couldn't. Normally you were great at answering back but sitting before Maxwell Lord had you feeling some kind of way and you couldn't shake it.

"Tell me, who are you really?" He urged. You contemplated his words and decided there was no pointing in continuing your long winded lie. You were surprised you had made it this far without getting caught in the first place. He was still smirking, however, and it seemed like he didn't really care at all. Giving in, you told him your real name.

"Mr Lord, if I may ask, how did you know I wasn't Barbara Minerva?" you asked Maxwell.

"I can read minds." Maxwell said darkly, staring deep into your eyes.

Oh, his eyes. They had darkened significantly— once a chocolate brown but now they could easily be confused for black. Suddenly the extravagant decor around his office had become a mere back thought and you had been absolutely captured by his handsome looks. His skin was golden under the setting sun behind him and it accentuated the blonde highlights in his hair. His eyelashes were long and dark and his lips were the perfect shape. His nose was rather prominent and curved slightly and you imagined what it would be like pressed against your face as he kissed you. 

You wanted him to take you in his arms and glide his large hands all over your body, caressing you and touching you everywhere he could. Sliding his hand up your shirt and cupping your breast as he settled lazy sloppy kisses into your neck and collarbones. Realising you had been silent for perhaps a moment too long, you let out a loud laugh.

"Right," you chortled in disbelief. "Read minds. Very funny." you grinned and you even caught him stifle down a dry chuckle.

"I like you," Maxwell admitted and you felt your heart stop. "I think you'd be well suited working for me. Of course… we might have to sort out your wardrobe. I'd like to offer you a job."

He had barely asked you any questions and he already made his mind up. You couldn't believe your luck.

"Wait, really?" you asked, your eyes widening with delight.

Maxwell nodded slowly. "Did one of my secretaries have you sign an NDA on your way in here?" 

"Yes sir," you bit your lip anxiously. You had wondered what the non-disclosure agreement was for.

"So you know that if you repeat any of this to anyone else after our interview is over, I can and will sue you."

Not that you had any money anyway, his cold words still made you nervous. He was one of the most powerful men in the world. Friends with the president of the USA, he had relations with practically every country who bought his oil, and now, he was offering you a job.

"Yes sir." you repeated obediently, fluttering your eyelashes at him. The way that word rolled off your tongue— He felt his cock harden in his pants. You were just so damn pretty.

"I have to tell you then," Maxwell leaned forward on his desk, interlocking his fingers together. He was inches away from you, gazing into your eyes. "I'm not looking for an assistant." His voice was dark and menacing and a lustful glint appeared in his eyes.

"You- you're not?" You stammered, feeling your cheeks flush with heat. You wondered what job you had actually gone for.

"How familiar are you with sugar dating?" Maxwell raised an eyebrow, his eyes now glaring dark and sinister.

"Su-sugar dating?"

You weren't overly familiar, but sure, you had read your fair share of erotic novels that illustrated such prospect.

Maxwell stood up from his chair and walked around his desk before perching on top of it and looking down at you. "I'm looking for a certain kind of arrangement, per-se," Maxwell explained. "You give me what I want, and I give you what you want. Money, clothes, diamonds, jewellery, cars… whatever your heart desires. It's yours. Think about finally having everything you always wanted."

Your gaze met the floor as you contemplated his words. No, he couldn't be serious. He had the wrong girl. "Sir," your voice was a timid whisper. "I don't think I possess anything you could want." you told him sadly, insecurity bubbling inside you. He was the Maxwell Lord. Esteemed, knowledgeable, reputable, and he worked amongst the most beautiful and well dressed women you had ever seen. Yet, here you were, sitting before him, and he had chosen you.

Maxwell shook his head. "No." he said simply, extending his arm and curling his fingers around your chin, pointing it upwards so you were looking up at him. He wanted to trace your pretty lips with his fingers— spread them apart and feel the warmth as he let you taste him.

"No?" You beckoned, your heart trashing against your chest. His hands were so soft but his touch was rough and he steadied the hard grip around your face. If it were any other man, you would've pushed him off you, cursing him. But this wasn't just any man. 

"You have everything I want."

December Magic: @kiwi-the-first​ @100layersofdaddyissues​ @mrschiltoncat​ @honeymandos​ @thisisthe-way​ @this-cat-is-dea​ 

Permanent: @goth-topic​  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria​ 

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It- Prologue: Well F**k Me!

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Summary: The Losers infiltrate a Child Sex Trafficking operation based in the Middle East thanks to their inside woman. New to the team, Stella has never met the men she will be working with going forward, all except for one that is...

Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s PLEASE!!!! This also deals with mentions of Child Sex slavery, but no details really. 

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson

A/N: So this is written for @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ 's challenge, and our prompt was the photo below. We'd also like to submit this for @jtargaryen18​ 's 30 Days of Chris challenge. As you will gather form the title, we fully intend this to be  a Series as well, which will arrive at some point. Hope you enjoy, let us know what you think!

Happy Birthday Evans, you beautiful bastard!!

The mission was simple, well, on paper. Clay and the rest of his specially selected Black-Ops team were charged with bringing down a child sex trafficking ring being operated by a number of corrupt US and UK Soldiers who were currently stationed in Iraq. His person on the inside had successfully infiltrated the ring following a 6 month period of being undercover and thanks to them they now knew how it was being operated. The kids targeted were orphans, so there was no one there to make a fuss or protect them. They were taken from the streets, refugee camps and then smuggled into Turkey (not Syria as they had originally thought)  where they were transported to Hakkari before being auctioned off and handed over to whoever it was that had bought them for the evening, ready for whatever disgusting fate awaited them. This process was repeated several times over a week, before the kids were then disposed of before a fresh new bunch brought in for the next auction in three months time. 

It was slick, well organised, and fucking disgusting. But Clay knew he had to keep that disgust at bay, if he had any chance of keeping his cover. Earlier that day Cougar had successfully taken out one of the original players who would be attending the auction, thanks once more to the info their insider had passed on, and Clay had taken his place. He sat in the plush, velvet arm-chair which surrounded a dimly lit stage, a glass of scotch in one hand, cuban in the other. Coupled with his dark suit and open collar white shirt, he looked to be a seamless copy of the the rest of the perverts lounging in equally opulent seats around the circle. 

A literal paedophile ring. 

"In position..."  

Roque spoke into the tiny ear-piece Clay was wearing. He had no microphone, nothing. Wearing anything like that was far too big a risk, but the ear piece as designed by Jensen was far too small for them to have noticed. It meant he could still hear what was going on, and once he gave the signal his team plus the rest of the CIA officers waiting outside would swamp the place. And if a few of the perverts happened to hit a few steps or fists on their way out, no one was going to cry about it. 

"We have visual on you Colonel..." 

Pooch spoke again "Jensen hacked the CCTV and is now about to cut their comms..."

"Easy as pie..." Jensen muttered  "And as I am a genius, they are now officially unable to contact the outside world..."

"If you're a genius then they seriously need to rethink what they call Einstein..."  Pooch retorted.

“Shut up Pooch, not my fault you can't even figure out how to work a laptop..."

"Enough!"  Roque cut across the banter, Cougar's chuckle hitting Clay's ear as he watched a pretty, slim blonde Woman striding onto stage

. "It's starting. Keep comms clear until further instructions received."

Clay looked at the woman, her black dress was tight leaving little to the imagination. Her hair was pulled back into a high pony-tail and her lips were painted a blood red. Dark eyeshadow adorned her lids and her calculating blue eyes scanned the room, falling on him for a second before she continued looking around, a smile curling across her face. She looked the part of a Gentlemans Club owner. Pristine, perfectly put together, but she was a female pimp- nothing more, nothing less. 

"Gentlemen, welcome." she spoke, her soft American accent cutting across the rooms and Clay noted the slight New-England twang she had. "The Auction is about to begin but I must first of all run down a few rules with you. You will find to your right your bidding pads. Should you wish to bid, tap the button. Simply put, highest bidder wins. Once your purchase has been made and the monies have been collected from your specified accounts, you will be invited to meet with your latest acquisition in the specially provided rooms. They are yours to do with as you wish until 9 am tomorrow morning upon which time they will be collected from your rooms and your personal effects will be returned. All we ask is that you do not kill them. It becomes messy and attracts unnecessary attention to the club from the outside."

She turned and barked something in Turkish to someone and a door to the back of the room opened. The woman moved to another smaller plinth at the back of the room as a man dragged a crying girl, that can't have been older than 9 years, dressed in nothing but her underwear onto the circular plinth under the spotlights.

"Fuck..."

 Clay heard Pooch's disgusted voice in his ear.

"This is sick."

 Jensen muttered.

And it was. But Clay had to remain still, and silent. The play was simple, he put in a few bids and hung back. But at some point, when he was sure they had enough evidence, he would enter a bid of a million. That was the team's cue to move.

He let the first girl go, much as he didn't want to. But seeing her being dragged off the stage was enough to make him decide he was ending it with the second. He couldn't take watching another kid go through that, they had to have enough to bust this wide open, surely. 

The next was a small, dark haired boy. He was pulled onto the stage by the burley guard, trembling, his brown eyes wide in fear. The bidding began. 10, 12, 15 thousand... at that point Clay hit his button, submitting his bid of 20. It was beaten, so he entered another and was beaten again.

"Bidding stands now at 40 thousand." the woman spoke. "Any further bids?"

Clay pushed his button "1 million." he spoke clearly. The woman cocked her head to one side, her eyebrow raising but before she could say anything the doors to the back of the room blew off.

Jensen, Cougar, Roque and Pooch flew into the room, flanked by a number of CIA agents and army officers as there was the usual pandemonium associated with a raid. As Jensen sprinted off down a corridor to the left in search of their Offices and computers,  Pooch tossed a gun to Clay who joined the fray. He looked up in time to see the woman who had been running the auction sprinting out of the room down another corridor, but before he could say anything Roque was after her.

"You sick, fucking bitch..." Roque mumbled as he sprinted down the winding corridors in the depths of the club almost tripping over her discarded heels as he went. Eventually he caught up with her, just as she raised a gun that she seemed to have produced from nowhere, shooting someone in front of her. Just as the shot rang out, Roque threw himself onto her, taking her down. She struggled a little in his arms, her strength taking him by surprise as they tangled together but eventually his strength won out and he pinned her on his back. His hand reached up to grab the wrist of the arm she held her gun in and he banged it sharply on the floor a few times until she dropped her weapon.  He looked at her face for a second, and something flashed in her eyes. Almost relief and she let out a breath.

"I'll come quietly" she said and Roque shook his head.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you right here, right now."

"Because you need me." she shrugged "I'm your key to busting this whole thing wide open."

"Get up..." Roque snarled, as he hauled her to her feet, secured her wrists behind her back with his restraints. He looked her up and down and noticed that her dress had ripped slightly, exposing her right thigh flashing the hold-ups and garter straps he was wearing, into which was tucked another pistol. He ripped it from the strap which ran up and over a large, floral tattoo before he spun her round and with the gun jabbed into her back, he pushed her in front of him back the way he had come. 

"Can I at least get my shoes?" she asked. Roque looked at her, incredulously, but let her slip the heels back on before they continued, emerging into the large cavernous room containing the stage. The plush velvet chairs now scattered all over the place, shreds of fabric still in the air as they were riddled with bullet holes and Clay was barking orders to someone in an Army uniform who nodded, and started to instruct his men to move out the prisoners they had taken to the waiting vehicles. Pooch and Cougar turned to face him first, before Clay spun round. The woman Roque was holding looked Clay in the eye and arched her eyebrow slightly as she raised her chin in defiance. 

"Caught her in the back, she shot one of the other operators." Roque said, his gun nudging her forward another step "Probably to stop him talking."

Clay eyed her for a second, before a wide grin split across his face and he looked at Roque "Let her go, she's one of us."

"What?" Roque blinked, not sure he had heard correctly. Behind Clay Pooch and Cougar exchanged a look.

"I said she's one of us." Clay said, "She's my person on the inside."

Roque paused for a moment, looking at Clay then to the woman who turned to face him, her shoulders shrugging slightly "I told you I was your key to busting this wide open."

Roque uncuffed her and she moved her arms, rubbing her wrists slightly. "Sorry." he said gruffly.

"It's fine, you didn't know..." she said, cocking her head to one side "But can I have my guns back?"

Roque fished in the waistband of his jeans and handed her the two pistols which she slipped back into her suspenders, giving a little moan. " You ruined my dress..."

Pooch and Cougar gave a little snigger each and Roque glared at them both. Clay, however, ignored the 3 of them completely and looked at the woman.

"Did you get him?"

She nodded "Bullet straight through his head. I never miss." 

"Through the head?" Pooch looked at her.

"It was a shoot to kill order." she shrugged "So I shot and I killed him."

Cougar tipped his hat slightly in approval as Pooch looked at him, then to Clay, then to Roque. Clay let out a huff of a laugh before he turned to the team.

"This is Stella Stevenson, aka Arty..."

"Like Artrois...that's clever." Pooch chuckled.

Arty grinned at him as Roque looked at Clay "Emma's replacement, right?"

Clay nodded. "She's slightly less volatile..." 

Arty raised an eyebrow "Until I'm pushed...although leaving a bomb in someone's car is far too crude for my liking. You wouldn't see me coming, Clay."

Clay snorted "Losers, treat her well. She's like a daughter to me, we go way back."

She smiled, and then looked around before she nodded to a door at the back, gesturing at them to follow her. "Everything you need is on the systems. I buried it as deep as I could to stop them deleting any of it. You got names, dates, transactions..."

"They kept transactions?" Pooch frowned as they walked down towards the offices she was indicating. 

"Key blackmail opportunities." Clay took a deep breath.

"Which I daresay we'll uncover as well." she spoke "This goes deep Clay. Deep. And it's not the only one. They're operating out of Syria and Afghanistan too."

"Ok." Clay nodded, "Let's see if Jensen is done retrieving the intel off the systems and then we can-"

"Jensen?" Arty blinked at the mention of the familiar name and Clay turned to her grinning "You son of a bitch..." she laughed, shaking her head.

Roque, Cougar and Pooch exchanged a look.

"What did we miss?" Roque asked as they stopped outside a door.

"You're about to find out..." Clay said, pushing the door open.  The 5 of them stepped inside and Clay looked at Jensen who had their back to them  and was leaning over a screen, his nose almost touching it. "You get what we need?"

Jensen didn't look up. "I was right, they had an automatic virus in here that can be remote operated but the stuff was buried deep, by someone who wanted to make sure it didn't get wiped, they clearly knew what they were doing..." he mused, and Clay glanced at Arty who raised an eyebrow "Just transferring it back to base now. We got names, dates, transaction history...and there are a few very naughty senators who are gonna be getting their collars felt. Which is better than them getting their balls felt by 12 year olds..."

"Shame you weren't this good at Mario Karts JJ..." Arty spoke and Jensen stilled slightly before he whipped around in his seat.

"Stel?" he spoke, utterly astounded as he stood up, his dark green t-shirt rippling over his chest. 

She looked at him for a second "I thought you were in Afghanistan." she cocked her head to one side, taking his appearance in. He hadn't changed a bit in the year or so it had been since she had seen him last. Same cheeky and boyishly handsome face, same spiky blonde hair, same broad shoulders which tapered into a slim waist.

"I thought you were in Iraq." he shot back, eyeing her up and down. She hadn't changed a jot either. Same curvy figure, same long legs and he let out a moan as he saw the guns strapped to her thigh through the rip in her dress.

"Are you wearing suspenders?"  His eyes widened before they worked  their way up her body.

"Always were observant Jakey." she grinned as his eyes locked onto her own, those crystal blue orbs shining slightly in the light of the room.

"Alright quit perving and for your information she was in Iraq." Clay said, "Under my orders."

"Well..." Jensen nodded, his hands falling to his hips as he looked down at his feet before he glanced back at Stella then Clay "Fuck me."

"Ok, what's this all about? You know each other or something?" Roque asked, gesturing between them with his hand.

Pooch rolled his eyes "Good call Roque, you think?"

"She's my best friend..." Jensen grinned, "All the way through middle and high-school..."

Stella barked out a laugh "So that's what we're calling it now?"

"Ok, best friend with...certain benefits.. if you get my drift." Jensen shrugged, his eyes twinkling cheekily. 

A that, Pooch let out a groan whilst Cougar smirked

"Nice..." he said, tipping his hat, speaking for the first time since Arty had met him, a low chuckle escaping his mouth.

 Roque blinked and turned to Clay "And you knew about this?"

"I told you, she's like a daughter to me..." Clay shrugged.

Jensen and Arty stood still, not really paying attention, simply looking at one another, until Jensen grinned and threw his arms open  "Come here!"

With a grin she threw herself at him and he hugged her tight, arms wrapping around her back as he lifted her off the floor slightly and kissed her cheek "It's good to see you Stel."

"You too Jakey"

********

After an hour or so, Clay signalled to the team that it was time to depart and they headed to the chopper that was waiting to take them out of Turkey and to the UN Base in Damascus where their handler was waiting to talk to them. The man, known only to them as David, took all the information down, told them what was likely to happen over the next few days and informed them that they would be ex-filled back to CIA HQ in DC in the next week or so, for full debrief. They were shown to their quarters for the next few days, which were all private rooms in the officers' lodgings, thank God, and they all retrieved their kit bags from the piles that were waiting for them, Arty's own pack being significantly smaller. 

"Hope it's all the right size." Clay nodded towards it. She smiled and took it from him with a thanks..

"Sure it will do...hang on, did you buy me underwear as well?"

He shrugged

"Ok, that's kinda gross..."

"I said I was like your dad..." he arched an eyebrow, "Not that I actually was. The rest of your stuff from the base will be shipped back, most likely waiting for you by the time we exfil."

"Thanks Clay."

The team bid each other goodnight and Arty, once in her room headed straight for a shower. She turned the water on as hot as she could stand, and stepped under with a light groan, scrubbing her body and hair down as if the soap and shampoo would wash away the last 6 months. It wouldn't, of course. Some of the things she had seen and had to do during her stint undercover had been vile, and she knew would stick with her for the rest of her life but she had known that it wouldn't be easy. She needed to compartmentalise, decompress, which was the whole point of the debriefs and psyche evaluation she would be subject to when she got back to DC, just like any agent returning back into the fold after a mission. Arty knew the drill, it wasn't the first undercover op she had been involved in, having been a part of Delta Force for almost 2 years now, but it was the first one during which she had been directly undercover herself following recruitment into the CIA Special Ops Group Ground force. She knew that you never stayed in Special Ops long, it was a short term thing few people were lucky enough to be chosen for and could be cut even shorter if one of the missions left your face too easily recognisable, so Stella was intending to make the most of it even though she knew already it was gruelling. 

And then there was Jensen. She had no idea he was working for the CIA but then, why would she? That was the point of Black Ops. Covert. Still, she couldn't help but feel a little upset at how far they actually had drifted since they had last seen each other 12 months ago. When they both went their separate ways after completing the ROTC, they'd promised to stay in touch, and to be fair for the most part over the past 8 years they'd done just that. Phone calls, emails, and then spending any time they could when they both had leave at the same time together, but it had certainly waned over the last year and, well, now she knew why.

Turning off the shower she dried off and dug out the night wear Clay had provided her with. Pleasantly surprised and pleased to find a pair of pale yellow pyjama shorts and matching tank top she shrugged them on before she flicked on the small TV that was attached to the wall, and just as she was about to throw herself on the bed there was a knock on her door. Knowing full well it would only be one person she padded barefoot over the clean, but clinical flooring and opened it. 

Jensen leaned against the door frame, barefoot and dressed in a pair of black shorts and a white tank top, his handsome face sporting his trademark grin as he held up a bottle of Jack Daniels. "Me and my friend Jack were just takin' a stroll, thought we'd pop by for a catch up." He watched as she smiled, and stepped back to let him in. His eyes slid up her bare legs to her shorts and over her ass for a second before he shut the door behind him. "Not gonna lie Stel, was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress and those damned thigh holsters."

"They only come out for special occasions." she quipped, heading over to the small kitchen area at the back of the room and waving 2 mugs. "You want one or we doing it straight from the bottle?"

"Why change the habit of a lifetime?" he snorted, twisting off the cap and taking a mouthful. She crossed towards him and he handed it to her and she took a loud mouthful, swallowing it as it burned her throat a little. "God it's hot when you do that."  She shot him a look as he took the bottle from her, placing it down on the side before he grabbed her hips and pulled her closer "Fuck, I missed you Stel."

"What happened to no strings attached?" She looked at him, her hands falling on top of his.

"I still really missed you...not just the sex...but you..." he shrugged. "You know I have..."

"That why we've hardly spoken in 12 months?" she looked at him.

"I emailed..." he frowned, one hand moving to run through his hair "You're the one that went silent 6 months ago."

"I was undercover..."

"You can be under the covers now too..." he grinned and she scoffed, shaking her head.

"Is this really wise if we're gonna be working together?"

"Since when have I ever done anything wise?" he shrugged, pushing his glasses back up his nose slightly.

"You should try it some time..." Stella said, patting his chest. She stepped back out of his hold, grabbed the bottle and took another drink before she walked to the bed and flopped down on it. "Assume the position JJ." she instructed him and he grinned, dropping down besides her and she handed him the bottle. Neither of them spoke for a moment, they fell into a comfortable silence, having been in this situation many times before. Lying side by side, drinking, just being close to one another. Jake took another mouthful of the liquor, stealing a glance at her as she sat besides him, her damp hair pulled into a braid, the spattering of freckles that adorned her nose and cheeks evident following her being fresh from the shower, the trace of her jawline down her throat to the slight swell of cleavage he could see thanks to the neckline of her tank top...

 As she made a gesture for the bottle he handed it to her, and she took it, her eyes still fixed on the TV, and she grimaced, nodding towards the screen. Jake followed her gaze as it was cutting to a News flash. 

"I said there would be some very nervous senators..." he quipped, as Stella shook her head as the footage of Capitol Hill rolled, the news reporter carrying the story about a number of arrests linked to a suspected Military Raid earlier that day. They both knew, however, that any arrests would have been made hours previously, as soon as the information they had syphone had hit the CIA base. The entire operation was timed to a tee.

"Hope they throw away the key. Sick bastards." she muttered "Honestly Jakey some of the stuff I saw...it was fucking disgusting."

Jake looped an arm round her shoulder and she lay her head against his chest, her arm looping over his stomach as he gave her a squeeze before she sat up again, taking the bottle. She took a large gulp, larger than her previous ones and pulled a face as she swallowed, her throat bobbing and he felt the familiar stirring in his pants. She looked at him for a moment, their eyes locking and his gaze flicked down to her mouth before it moved back up again as he took the bottle off her and blindly reached behind him, placing it on the table besides her bed.

"Wanna fuck?" he asked.

She shrugged "Sure, why not?"

No sooner had the words left her mouth, his lips crashed to hers in a bruising kiss and he smirked against her mouth as she straddled him, his hands falling to her hips as her mouth hungrily worked against his. Their lips molded together in a well known practice, her tongue teasing against his own before she pulled back, gently biting his bottom lip as she went, drawing a groan from his throat as he rest his head against hers, his eyes flickering open to lock onto hers. 

“You know…” Stella sighed, drawing back slightly to cup Jake's face in her fingertips “I'm liking this..." she traced her fingers lightly across his goatee, and he smiled at her as she reached up and took his glasses off, dropping them carelessly next to the bottle of Jack by their side. 

“It's supposed to make me look meaner…” he murmured, his lips gently brushing hers as their noses bumped together.

"Doesn't work, especially not with the bleach in your hair." she mumbled as his mouth trailed a path across her jawline and down the length of her neck "You're still that adorably yet slightly dorky 18 year old that took my cherry." "You took mine too Stel." he mumbled and her eyes closed as she rolled her head back, giving him access to more of her neck, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"How could I forget?" her voice was nothing more than a whisper as his fingers flexed on her hips, his groin pushing upwards, his hardness pressing into her core through their clothing. "I'm glad to report you got a lot better at it since then..." 

"Well, you'd know..."  he said, his tongue licking a line back up her throat as his hands grabbed at the bottom of her tank top. She moved to allow him to take it off and Jake looked down at her bare chest as she reciprocated the favour, pulling his top over his head, tossing it to the floor. Raising his head he gently nipped at the base of her neck, his hands sliding up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs as his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it in his mouth, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

God it really had been far too long.

Unable to take it anymore he flipped her over so she was on her back, his body sliding downwards as he dispensed of her shorts and then his own, before he kissed his way back up from her ankle all the way to that thigh tattoo which was ingrained in his memory forever. Well, most of it was anyway... 

"This...this is new. " he said gently, his fingers tracing the outline of the large, pink flower that sat at the top, almost in the crease of her hip.

"Go Petunias." she looked at him and he let out a bark of a laugh as she snaked her right leg in between both of his and using a well executed move she threw him on his back drawing a loud huff of surprise from him.

"Jesus Stel, give a guy a warning" he mumbled as she slid over him.

"Where's the fun in that?" she whispered,  brushing her lips across the hairs on his face tracing a path across from one side of his jawline to the other as his eyes fully closed in pleasure, large hands gripping at her thighs, then her hips as she shifted slightly to start taking him in. Her mouth dropped into a small ‘o’ as they both groaned as she slid down, her warmth engulfing him entirely.

"JJ..." she mumbled,  her hands falling to his chest as she held herself still "Jakey, look at me...wanna see you." He opened his eyes, locking them onto her own which were half-lidded with desire as she began to move. Her hips rotated as she ground down again, and again, his own rising to meet hers as she did. 

"Fuck, Stel..." he sighed, "Still feel so good baby girl..."

She grinned, and bit her lip as her hips moved again, his hands sliding down to grab at her ass as she pushed down harshly, causing him to grunt as she ground down against him, tilting herself forward finding that angle that always got her off. Her pace was slow, torturously so, but it wasn’t long before she began to move slightly faster, working him harder as she chased her relief. The roughness of his pubic hair was grinding against her spot, the friction feeling amazing as she pushed down. With every roll of her hips, Jensen's eyes which were still locked onto hers grew darker, and darker, his hands digging into her hips as he pulled her onto him, grinding upwards further and deeper.

He sat up suddenly, so they were face to face, the change of angle making her cry out, as he slid his hands moved round her back, pulling her close to him as he kissed and sucked at her neck, biting at that spot  beneath her ear whilst he held her still for a moment, gently thrusting upwards, deeply, slowly, savouring the moment. Stella rolled her head back, a louder cry this time tumbling from her lips and he felt her tighten around him,  pulsing strongly as her orgasm washed over her and he let out a groan of his own as her head fell forward to his shoulder, her groans soft in his ear.

“Good?” he whispered, smiling as she managed a broken noise of affirmation, and without giving her a moment to recover he flipped her onto her back, his hands lacing with hers at the side of her head as he began to thrust into her, his pace harder and faster.

"Jake..." she gasped, as his lips crashed onto hers, swallowing her cries as her nails dug into the back of his hands whilst he thrust into her with deep, powerful strokes. The sweat was beading over his brow as he broke the kiss, his head falling forward slightly as he felt his own relief beginning to creep up on him. He tugged his right hand free, sliding it down between them to rub at her sensitive nub as he pounded into her voraciously and she gave a loud wail her head tipping back into the pillow, her breathing ragged.

"Come on Stel..." he gasped, "Come on baby, give it to me..." And give it she did, her body shook underneath him as her mouth dropped open and she let out a loud noise which bubbled from her throat, as she once more succumbed to the wave of pleasure washing over her. The feel of her clenching around him was enough, and Jensen followed her right over the edge into delirium, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew sloppy, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out. They lay in silence, both struggling to gain control of their breathing in the aftermath, not a sound being made by either of them bar gasps for air as the TV continued to play in the background. Stella gently moved her hands up and down the expanse of muscle on his back, his skin slick to the touch and Jensen laid still, relishing the touch of her fingertips as they danced over his body.

Eventually he raised his head, propping himself up on his elbows as he gave her a lazy grin which she reciprocated. His hands cupped her cheeks, his lips seeking hers out once more for a kiss that was this time soft, gentle, a stark cry from the ardent ones they'd shared before. He pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers, gently brushing their noses together before he spoke, his voice slightly raspy from the exertion of the last 15 minutes or so. 

"Welcome to The Losers, Stel" he grinned.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Desperate Times

Harry Potter AU 

Summary:  Regulus has changed. He isn't the boy that you fell in love with. Sirius has grown up and is now the man that you need. Is it possible to be in love with more than one person?

Pairings: Sirius Black x Reader. Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- smut

_____

“Are we crazy?”

You whispered, looking around the office at the Ministry of Magic. Sirius looked up from the marriage certificate that he was filling out. He appeared to be as nervous as you did. In a rational person’s mind what the two of you were doing was insane.

“You’re worrying over nothing, love. Everything will be just fine.”

“You always know the right things to say.”

You muttered as you fiddled with the wedding ring that Sirius had slid onto your finger. The two of you weren’t crazy; you were both bat shit insane. You stepped closer to your best friend now husband as a wave of nausea washed over you,

How did this happen?

You thought sadly. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Sirius. You were quickly falling in love with him but there were other technicalities. For one, you were pregnant with Regulus Black’s baby (or were you?) Secondly, Regulus had no clue and would be crushed that you snuck off to marry his brother. This whole thing was one big William Shakespeare grande disaster of crazy.

It isn’t your fault that Regulus became a death eater and has been neglecting you.

That thought was somewhat comforting. Your relationship with the youngest Black had been going downhill progressively for the past year. The man that you had fallen in love with seemed to be dead and gone. One night, in a fit of depression you slept with Sirius. 6 weeks later...BAM you were pregnant and you didn’t know who the father was....you were fucked!

You expected Sirius to never talk to you again when you told him the news. He was, however, surprisingly calm. In fact, you had never seen that expression on your friend’s face.

“Marry me, Y/n. Whether or not it's mine, I can still keep the two of you safe. Regulus is going to flip the fuck out. Sorry, love but I don’t see my brother taking the news that I may have gotten you pregnant very well. If he thinks the kid is mine, we can keep the kid safe from becoming like...you know.”

Sirius was right there. Regulus would go ballistic. There would be no way in hell that he would lose his girlfriend to his brother! If he tried to kill the two of you it wouldn’t surprise you. Again, since your curly-headed dreamy-eyed boy joined the death eaters and took that dark mark his temper became worse. There had been so many fights that led to him throwing random objects at your or destroying kitchen china.

Sirius looked up at you again. Your eyes were focused on the window for a moment before turning to give him a soft smile. He knew this was one of the more heartless things that he had ever done. Sirius couldn’t stand the thought of seeing the girl that he loved being with a death eater (even if it was his brother). He could only hope that maybe, just maybe, you could love him the way that you did Regulus.

What Sirius didn’t see was the way that you were looking at him. He didn’t know that you already loved him. You smiled at how his dark hair fell in his eyes as he looked back down to the paper. Had you always had a crush on Sirius? Of course. Now that Sirius was giving up his single playboy life to keep yourself and his nephew or niece safe; your attraction skyrocketed! You had spent the night before wondering if it was possible to love two men at once..time would have to tell on that one.

That didn’t mean that you stopped loving Regulus nor would you miss him. You would forever miss him...the old him. You would miss his sensitive shy nature compared to Sirius’ balls to the wall, hell hath no fury attitude. There was also the fact that Regulus would never really know his child.

You didn’t know how you would explain it to Regulus if the baby was born looking like him?

“Sorry Reg, the baby just takes after his uncle?” or “Reg, this is your son who your brother is raising as his own...hope you don’t mind.”

Neither seemed like a great idea.

“If you want a nice wedding, we can still have one.”

Sirius’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. The comment didn’t surprise you. This was typical Sirius Black “Imma show off what’s mine” style. Regulus would never go for a wedding. He would want something quiet and private.

The two brothers couldn’t be any more different…

“Our friends are going to be so confused.”

Sirius’ hopeful expression faded at your comment. He already told James and Remus what he was doing. They were both concerned but understood. Sirius had laughed at their expression the night before when he was getting shit faced.

“Bet you never thought that you would see the day that I got married, huh? Well, here we are.”

“An actual wedding sounds nice.”

You said, feeling relieved when Sirius smiled.

“Anything that you want, Mrs. Black.”

He said with a small grin. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. You bit your lip, feeling the attraction beginning to build again. Sirius reached out and put a hand on your face.

“How about another kiss?”

Half an hour later,

Sirius carried you into the house with a proud smile on this face. You giggled as he gently sat you on your feet.

“Now that we have done all of the cheesetastic we just got married crap; what do you want to do now?”

Sirius asked as he took off the jacket he was wearing.

“We could go upstairs and make this marriage official?”

You suggested. Sirius’ expression went from cocky to downright stunned. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to think of the right thing to say.

“We don’t have to. I know that you weren’t feeling well.”

“I feel fine now. We can say that we made the baby tonight.”

You whispered, closing the gap between your bodies. It was taking all Sirius had to not throw you over his shoulder and haul you off to his bed. Sleeping with you again and every night that he could in the future was more than a dream come true. Sirius had thought that all chances of gaining you as a lover had vanished when you began dating Regulus. Now that he had a chance, Sirius wanted to woo you right.

“What if it's his?”

Sirius asked, sadly. He didn’t want to say it but Sirius had a feeling that the baby would be his brother’s. Sirius had to sit back and watch you carry another man’s baby that he was going to raise as his own.

You stood on your tiptoes before wrapping your arms around Sirius’ shoulders.

“Even if it's his; it's yours.”

Sirius’ dark expression softened. It wasn’t the kid’s fault that this was happening. The poor thing didn’t ask for its father to lose his mind and join some homicidal maniac. Regulus didn’t know the first thing about being a parent. Not that Sirius was any better off but he knew what NOT to do. It didn’t take him growing up in a house full of nutjobs to know “how to not parent.” Regulus would probably ignore the kid; just like Orion did to his own kids.

“Maybe making a baby doesn’t sound so bad after all. Come here, sugar.”

Sirius kicked the door closed with his foot after practically running up the stairs with you in his arms. After gently laying you down on the bed, Sirius gave you a devilish grin. He wasn’t going to admit that he had been jacking off like a horny teenager over the memory of your last night together. Now Sirius would be able to have you whenever he wanted.

You, meanwhile, watched with hungry eyes as Sirius unbuttoned the dress shirt that he was wearing. The last time that you had sex with Sirius was still very clear in your mind. Sirius was the wild card. Regulus was the calm and gentle “let's make love” type. Sirius, on the other hand, was “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk” type.

Sirius knelt between your spread legs. He pulled the high heels that you were wearing off before he got his back cut up. One rendezvous with a girl with spiked heels taught Sirius a lesson.

“Sexy little ankles.”

He muttered, kissing a path up your leg. Sirius’ eyes were locked on yours as he seductively licked your thigh.

“Time to get out of this dress, darling.”

You sat up enough to pull the light purple dress over your head. Sirius, meanwhile, had removed the rest of his clothes and sat down beside you.

“On my lap.”

Not moving fast enough for his liking, Sirius yanked you to him. Your back was against his chest as Sirius kissed over your shoulders. A hand slipped between your legs. You gasped as Sirius’ middle and index finger pressed on your clit in a spiraling motion.

“Do you like this, love?”

You nodded frantically as Sirius snuggled his face against your neck. His voice deepened as he pressed down harder.

“Do you realize how beautiful you are like this? You’re my wife now, love, and I am going to spend the rest of forever making your legs shake.”

You rocked your ass against his now very prominent hard-on. Sirius groaned returning the favor by pressing himself into you.

“Time to fuck you like the goddess that you are.”

You slowly got off of Sirius’ lap and laid back on his bed. Sirius crawled between your legs and placed a hand on either side of your body. The whole time his eyes were locked on yours as if he was searching for any sign of regret. You spread your legs wider before putting a hand on your stomach.

“Don’t hide from me. It's our baby.”

He leaned down and kissed you hungrily. You felt him lining himself up with your opening and sighed when Sirius pushed in.

“Oh!”

Sirius moaned at the perfect little tone of your voice. That little “oh” was so feminine and precious that it stroked Sirius’ male ego.

I bet Regulus never made her come like I am going to. Her little pussy is going to be sore for the rest of...forever.

Sirius thought with a smirk before pushing in balls deep. You squirmed under him as you tightened around him.

“We don’t have to rush, love. We have all night and the rest of forever.”

(Meanwhile)

Regulus walked into Grimmauld Place feeling exhausted. This past week had been hell for him. After doing missions that he didn’t ask for to pick up for worthless individuals that were granted too much trust; Regulus was ready for sleep.

Regulus took off his black coat and tossed it to the chair for Kreacher to put up. He had been drinking quite a bit and looked forward to having his way with you. If you thought for a minute that you weren’t going to be touched; you had another thing coming.

“Master Regulus.”

He looked up as Kreacher stepped into the room.

“It's good to see you too, Kreacher. I need to see Y/n.”

The elf automatically winced. He knew that you were not waiting in Regulus’ room where the poor boy thought you were. Kreacher had pleaded with you to reconsider leaving.

“You’ll break Master Regulus’ heart!”

“Master Regulus, wouldn’t you like Kreacher to make you some nice hot tea?”

Regulus shook his head. He didn’t want hot tea. He wanted your hot lips on his or around his cock.

“No, Kreacher. I am ready to go get my pillows fluffed.”

Regulus stormed up the stairs and into this bedroom. He froze when he didn’t see you in bed.

“Y/n?”

Kreacher hurried into the room.

“Master Regulus!”

The young man turned with a frown.

“Where is she, Kreacher?”

The elf reached into his pocket and slowly handed his master the emerald ring that he had given you months before. Regulus’ eyes widened as he shook his shoulder-length hair out of his face.

“Where is she? Answer me, Kreacher! Did she leave me?

The elf looked up with a scowl on his unfriendly little face.

“Kreacher is sorry, master, but yes. Mistress Y/n left the day before yesterday.”

“Did she say why?”

Regulus asked, trying to keep calm. The liquor that he had in him was beginning to boil. He wasn't sure if it would come out in violence or tears.

“Mistress said that you didn’t love her and…”

“And WHAT?”

Regulus growled. He was ready to go track you down then haul your ass home. Did you really think that you were going to get away from him that easily? You were HIS woman! You had been his since the two of you were 16 and Regulus was not going to give up that easy!

“Master Regulus….it doesn’t matter.”

“I SAID TELL ME!”

Regulus screamed. Kreacher finally spoke. He knew that he was about to break his master’s heart.

“Mistress is having a baby.”

Regulus’ mouth dropped as he hit his knees in a fit of angry tears. You were having his baby and ran away. The two of you were finally having the baby that was planned. This was the baby that would carry on the Black family name… now….nothing.

“Where did she go?”

Regulus sobbed. Kreacher wasn’t sure how to comfort the poor boy that had stolen the elf’s heart. He slowly walked over and gently patted Regulus’ messy curls.

“To Master Sirius.”

Regulus’ head snapped up.

“Why was she going to him?”

“Because Master Sirius is the father of Mistress Y/n’s baby.”

______

@brokencasbutt67-writer

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@li0nh34rt

@tas898

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[billythebabehargrove]

Faulty Plans

AN: there may be some errors

Word count: 2.1k

“You were going to let me go”

Okay so maybe your plan to find out if Steve Harrington was in love you wasn’t ethical, but it was happening so that didn’t matter anymore. You and Steve have this unspoken agreement that you both liked each other; well at least you thought that you did. Every time you two were together the brief touches, unusually long glances and cringe worthy flirting made that obvious, right? . But Steve was yet to make a move so maybe you’re over thinking it all. However that didn’t stop you from making a plan that would hopefully reveal his feelings to you. It goes that you get one of the boys you both went to high school with to ask you on a date by any means necessary, then while on your Friday dinner date with Steve and Robin you announce said date, Steve will not be happy and stop you from going on said date and declare his feelings for you. It may not happen as smoothly as you would hope, but optimism makes the world go round.

O’Keeffe’s bar on a Thursday afternoon was relatively quite which made for a boring shift. Sitting behind the bar watching the regulars slowly sipping their drinks made the time go even slower. You needed to leave early if you wanted to get to quarry. Your old high school class was having a get together for their first spring break as college students, although most of them hadn’t gone to college and were just going along to get shit faced. What better opportunity to find a date than with a bunch of drunk guys who have nothing better to do with their lives. Holding your head up on your palm, you hear the bell above the door ring and in steps a younger looking man. Upon further inspection you realise that your luck might be changing, and cheap alcohol and fake flirting at the quarry may not be on your cards tonight. Eric Pine, ex Hawkins high star football player and newly qualified bank teller had taken a seat on a stool at the end of the bar. You walk down and stop in front of him “What can I get you?”, you say smiling at big as you can while twirling a rag between your fingers. He looks up from the bar and nets your eyes, lighting up when he realises who you are “I don’t care Y/N, just make it strong” “Rough night, huh?” you say reaching for the vodka on the shelf behind you “oh you have no idea” he laughs haphazardly. You set the drink down in front of him with a nod “Anything I can help with?” He laughs again and nods down to his glass “yeah just keep these coming and I’ll be right as rain” “whatever you say captain”. After a while of chatting you figure out the cause of Eric’s sadness ,Mallory , his high school sweetheart, has decided that they aren’t working and she can’t “see a forever” in him. “I get that I’m not that exciting guy I was in high school but I was in for the long run Y/N” he looks as if he’s about to cry. “You’re a great guy Eric, I’m one hundred percent certain that you’ll find your forever girl” “You are ?” you place a hand over his “I am , and if it makes you feel any better I don’t think the guy I see as a forever likes me that way so.... yeah love sucks”. Eric looks up from your hands and gives a sympathetic look “Well if he doesn’t he’s an idiot, I mean look at you Y/N, I don’t think I’ve meet a guy who hasn’t liked you that way” you laugh out loud causing some heads to turn “Now you’re just saying things”, he shakes his head, “cross my heart and hope to die”. By last call compliments had been thrown back and forth and you were hopeful of him asking you out. “Hey Y/N what are you doing Saturday?” He smirks, you look up to the ceiling taping it your cheek “uh nothing I don’t think”. You’d never seen Eric smile as wide, not even when Tina announced free booze at her annual Halloween party two years ago, “great maybe we can go out see a movie or get dinner or something and see if we’re each other’s forever”. You laugh and nod “yeah I’d like that”. Phase one of your plan was complete.

Friday evening at 6:30 you pull into Hurley's Burgers and went straight to your regular booth. Steve and Robin were sat beside each other chatting amongst themselves but turned to look as you slid into the seat across from them. They say hey in unison as you place your bag on the seat beside you “hey guys I’ve got news” “oh news, that sounds promising” Robin says arching her eyebrow placing her hands on the table. Steve looks at her in disgust “yeah...no every time Y/N says she’s got news it’s her way of making us do things for her”. You scoff teaching across the table to slap his shoulder “I do not” “uh yeah you do it’s always hey guys I’ve got news you’re cleaning my back yard with me before my parents get home and kill me or hey guys I’ve got news I’m not able to babysit my neighbours kids like I said so... guess which two people just gained a weekend job”. Robin looks from Steve to you “he’s got you there Y/N” you sigh “okay... I may have done that once or twice but this time the only thing you guys need to do is be happy for me”. Steve looks skeptical “whys that?” “Well...” you start “I got myself a date”. Robin laughs in shock while Steve chokes on air sitting up straight in his seat “wow Y/N I never thought I’d see the day” Robin says clapping slowly, Steve stays silent. That’s good right, that he’s speechless?. “Wow thanks you guys it’s so nice having friends that are confident in my abilities to attract men” you say sarcastically. The waitress comes and takes your order and as she leaves conversation turns back to your date. Steve finally speaks “so this date, who’s the lucky guy?” “You guys remember Eric, Eric Pine”. Robin nods “how could we forget he was the talk of the school after Billy and Steve of course” Steve shakes his head “you don’t remember him?” You say shocked. Steve again shakes his head “no I remember him alright, I  just thought you had better taste you know, you’re going on a date with the douche bag of the century” you laugh “ you’re one to talk Steve” “hey I’ve changed, I can guarantee he hasn’t”. This time it’s your turn to shake your head “ that’s where you're wrong, he was really sweet and funny and you know what I don’t care what you think Steve, this is first guy in so long that’s shown any interest in me so I will enjoy my date with him on Saturday regardless of what you think. You both sit in silence, Robin stirs her drink, and the sound of ice hitting glass fills the awkward air. You start to stand “I’m going to use the bathroom, you coming Rob?” She nods “yeah sure” she stands and slides out past Steve. When you reach the bathroom Robin stands arms across her chest staring at you “what?” you snap. She rolls her eyes “I think I should be the one asking you that, a date, what the fuck Y/N I thought you like Steve?” You sigh “I do” “then why are you doing this”. You hoist yourself up into the sink “I have a plan” “never good” Robin says following pursuit and sitting next to you on the sinks “I thought that if I got a date , Steve would realise his feelings for me and try to stop it or something, I don’t know but I guess that was stupid, look at us now”. Robin places her hands on your shoulders and shakes them a little “oh my god Y/N, do you really think he’s not head over heels in love with you” “ Robin you’re just a romantic, if he did he would have said something, pulled me aside and told me instead of arguing”. Robins jumps off the sink and stands in front of you “that is his way of pulling you aside” “whatever you say Rob I’m going to pee see you out there”. You walk into a stall, and as you close your door you hear another one open with a cream and long sigh being let out by the girl. The rest of the dinner is quiet with the odd bit of small talk but other than that no mention of the date arises. You leave earlier than usual and sleep the pain away.

 Saturday evening comes quickly; you sit in your living room staring at the phone on the wall. Maybe Robin was right maybe Steve does feel the same and he’ll realise what happened yesterday was a mistake and he’ll rush to phone to call and tell me to cancel my date because he loves me. The digital clock flashes 6:59 and your hope is gone Steve was never going to call who are you kidding. A beep from outside brings you back to reality, you pick up your coat and bag and leave the house to go to some fancy restaurant you’d rather not be at.

 Fast forward an hour later and you’re walking up Steve’s drive way with tears building in your eyes and shoes in your hand. You just couldn’t do it, how could you when Steve lived 5 blocks away and you knew he was sitting home alone probably watching Risky Business for the 300th time. You made it to Eric’s car before telling him you suddenly felt so sick and proceeded to fake nearly throwing up, he helped you back to your house and told you to call him when you’re feeling better to reschedule. You wait until you know he’s long gone before you leave your house to begin your trek to Steve’s. You knock on the door and step back onto the porch. The door swings open and there he is your forever, wearing an old Hawkins high T-shirt and a pair of striped pyjama bottoms and a stupid look on his face. He looks you up and down and before he can speak you push past him and wait for him I’m the living room. When he enters she start to talk “Y/N wha” you cut him off “you were going to let me go” the tears are start to fall “What?” Steve’s confused as he steps forward and reaches out in an attempt to heal your arm before you pull away. “You were going to let me go” “Y/N I’m really confused right now”. You throw yourself onto his couch “I guess it’s my own fault, I mean I saw it for myself yesterday” Steve sits beside you this time you let him touch you “Is this about me yelling at you yesterday, if it is I’m sorry Y/N, you know how I get” you sigh lying back in the couch cushions but not enough that you couldn’t look at him “it’s not that Steve”. He’s even more confused now “look Steve I had this crazy idea that you might like me just as much as I like you and when I told you about the date yesterday I wanted you to tell me not to go because you like me and then you didn’t so I thought, well maybe he’ll call before I leave and tell me not to go, but you didn’t you were letting me go so I was wrong...my plan failed ...you don’t like me”. Steve sits in silence just like the day before except this time he’s looking at you with his mouth hanging slightly open, you turn away from him and face the window. “You’re right Y/N I don’t like you” you laugh “geez thanks Steve way to kick a girl when’s she’s down” he pulls at your arm and you turn to face him “I don’t like you Y/N, I love you”. Now it’s your turn to stare at him in silence mouth hanging open “you what?” “I love you” he says it with so much confidence you don’t know what to do. Steve resolves that issue though and leans in for a kiss, when you finally pull apart you whisper “I love you too, Steve” “I know”. You push him backwards onto the couch “Hey don’t get too cocky” “you love it” “I still can’t believe you were going to let me go” “look I was never the brightest bulb” “You’re not wrong” now it was his turn to push you back onto the couch, starting the night of making up for lost time.

[lakinda5654]

Stains of Wine

—————————————————

One-Shot story of Loki x Reader. NSFW. This is my first one-shot, so please let me know if you like it. 

Contains: Smut. All the Smut. So much smut. Dirty talk, dom/sub

Word Count: 2,806

—————————————————

“Fuck!” you curse as the entire tray of red wine spills onto your white shirt and apron, the glasses falling to the floor, many of them shattering. Whoever just bumped into you was definitely at fault, as you had been walking straight without turning when they backed into you. 

“Watch where you’re going...” you mutter as you kneel to the floor to begin picking up the shards of glass. You said it mostly for self-satisfaction, not loudly enough for anyone at this A-List party to hear. 

“I was.” The voice is smooth and deep. 

Upon hearing a response to your comment, you look up, ready to apologize profusely... no one was supposed to hear that and you could easily be fired for such an attitude. But as you look up, the man kneels down in front of you.

He is one of the most attractive men you had ever laid eyes on. He isn’t stereotypically attractive- not like Captain America or any other of the men at this boring party. He is pale, but with jet black hair that reaches his shoulders. His entire suit matches that aesthetic, with not a drop of color but black to be found. The only colorful thing about him is his eyes- which pierce through your gaze in emerald green. He’s vaguely familiar...

You force yourself to stop staring. “I’m sorry sir, I was just- talking to myself.” 

“Oh- so you didn’t notice me intentionally back into you? Oh come now, I know you’re more observant than that darling.”

You stop your delicate hands cleaning up the shards of sharp glass for a moment. “You... you meant to run into me?” you ask him in confusion as you try to avoid being stepped on by the masses of dress shoes and heels making their way around you and your mess. 

He lets out a breathy, yet sexy chuckle. “Indeed I did...” he said it slowly, in a tone that expressed satisfaction... as if he was being rewarded for his efforts. You look up to see his devilish smile, and his eyes staring shamelessly at your wine covered breasts. 

Shit. You recall what you’re wearing... the catering company’s uniforms are so damn thin. The only bra you could wear under them without being seen was a thin bralette, and with the cold wine sticking to your skin and giving you chills at the moment, your nipples are quite easily seen. 

Well, he’s certainly blunt... you think as you realize what his intentions are. The way he so carelessly stares at you, as if he knows you won’t be offended by his crude actions. 

And why aren't you? Under any other circumstance, you would have slapped this perverse man across the face. But right now, you are blushing and you feel your heart speed up. 

He looks up at your eyes with eyebrows raised expectantly, his head tilted, waiting for a response to his comment. 

The way he stares at you with those eyes and that smirk- it’s intoxicating. You freeze and lose all ability to form words for a moment. You have to force yourself out of his stare, shaking your head and blinking away the high he just put you through. 

But when you look down, everything in the entire mess had vanished. The glass, the wine stain on the floor, the tray, all of it was gone. All except the wine on your white shirt. Dumbfounded, you look around and then back up at the man, who is now standing. 

“How... where did it-”

“Come now, you poor thing. We must get you cleaned up.” His tone was almost sarcastic. He holds his hand down and out to you. 

Still in awe of the disappeared mess, you take his hand and stand up. You look back at the ground once more, trying to ensure you haven't gone crazy. 

Against your better judgment, you allow the man to lead you by the hand through the party towards the other side of the room. He weaves his way seamlessly through the crowd. However, instead of leading you to the restrooms, he goes to the elevator. 

“Wait w- where are we going... I have my job and-”

“Well come now, you can’t do your job looking like that...” he insists and presses a button on the elevator. 

Gaining some of your willpower back now, you respond, “You know, there's a bathroom at the party, I really need to get back to my job...”

“Your job...” His tone is sultry. “Is to serve the guests, is it not?” 

“Well, yes...” you feel your heart pounding as his next words fill your ears. 

“Then you will most certainly be doing your job darling, no need to worry over that.”

You stutter, trying to process what he means. “Um...I-”

“Ah, here we are... this is my floor,” he speaks over you to drown out your hesitation. You both step out of the elevator, you walking much slower than him. You take in the sight of the empty lobby with apartments leading out of the walls. 

He lives... in the Avenger’s tower? “Wait... who are-”  You finally place the memory. You knew he looked familiar.

Loki watches as realization dawns on your face. His expression darkens. Without hesitation, he walks to you. It only takes him a couple of strides to be directly in front of you, staring down at you with those piercing eyes. 

“I... am Loki...” His voice is almost aggressive now. You begin to shake as he takes your wrists in one hand and pins them against the now-closed elevator doors. They are cold against your skin and give you chills all over again. You also now realize just how tall he is, as he leans against your pinned wrists, towering over you. 

“Prince of Asgard...” His voice is gravely and dark. He puts his other hand into your hair and roughly pulls back, forcing your head to face upward towards his. 

“And you... weak mortal, are meant to serve me.”

Even if you had the ability to run at this point, to get far away from this man before he had his way with you... you knew you would reject the opportunity. 

He watches your reaction for a moment, watching your eyes fill with fearful lust. Watching how your panting causes your wine-covered chest to rise and fall. With his eyes narrow, his mouth slightly open, he relishes in all the power he has over you at this moment. 

Then, he takes his hands from your wrists and hair. They instead make their way to your chest, his cold fingers reach into your shirt between two of the buttons. 

His fingers running along the soft skin of your chest creates a reaction in you far stronger then it should be, and you try to hold it in, closing your eyes. 

In an instant, he shocks you out of the trance by ripping open the thin shirt. You hear several buttons fall to the floor, and he pulls it off of you completely. You are now exposed to him in your lacey bralette, which has also been stained from the wine. 

He takes a moment to soak in the sight of you, but it isn't long. In an instant he grabs your hair and pulls to the side, forcing you to expose your bare neck. 

“You see darling, a beautiful creature such as yourself would be wasted on mortal men...” He whispers into your ear. He then takes a moment to run his cold tongue from the base of your neck up to your ear, causing you to let out a small whimper. 

“You are mine,” he growls into your ear. With a flick of his wrist, you find yourself completely naked in front of him. The sudden wave of air against your bare body is startling and your arms instinctively move to cover yourself.  

Loki doesn’t even let you complete the movement as he takes each of your wrists in his hands once more, and re-pins you against the elevator. “And what do you think you’re doing pet? Trying to hide from me what is mine?” he hisses into your neck and bites at your supple skin. 

You let out another whimper. “N- no... I- I was just-” 

A hand forcefully cups over your mouth. It startles you, and you still whimper slightly. 

Loki listens to your muffled noises coming from under his palm. His eyes are locked onto yours, and they are filled with lust. The tension between your bodies is so strong you swear you can physically feel it in your chest. 

“You are my personal whore tonight. You are here to serve me, and you will deny me no part of you. Every inch of you belongs to me. Do you understand?” 

Your eyes stayed locked on his, and you manage to nod with his hand still pressed against your lips. 

His smile is lustful and sinister. “Good girl” 

The hand drops from your mouth, you take in a sharp breath of air.

That’s when you feel his tongue. He is licking and kissing the sticky sweet wine from your skin, starting from your collar bone and working his way down your breast. His tongue is pleasurably cold, and soon his lips surround your sensitive nipple, nibbling and kissing until you whimper for him once more. 

Without warning he backs up again, only to roughly command you. 

“Now kneel.”

You obey his command as quickly as you can.

“Hmmm...” He let out a deep hum at the sight of you. “The first time you were like this for me we were surrounded by others. But now here we are...” He walks up to you and leans his hands on the elevator above you so that he is arched over your knelt body. “...completely alone.”

With that, he appears naked in front of you, causing you to jump. You hardly get a moment to take in the sight of him before he pushes himself into your agape mouth. You gag a bit at the size of him, then work to adjust to it as well as you can. He is far bigger than anyone you’ve ever taken before.

“Ahhhh...” He lets out a voice filled sigh, it’s almost a moan. Then he begins to move in you, making thrusts in and out of your mouth. His pace slowly quickens as you feel him pulsing in your mouth. He continues this until feel drool falling onto your chin and dripping onto your breasts. 

In an instant, he surprises you by removing himself. You gasp in a full breath of air. 

As quickly as he was gone, he is back inside you. Only this time, he pushes as far as he can into you and stops. He holds himself there and looks down at his mortal. You look up at him, locking your eyes with his, taking every inch of him in your mouth and throat. Loki rolls his eyes back at the sight of you.

He then surprises you again by stopping entirely, only to roughly grab your wrist and lead you down a hall and into a room. You stumble as you try to stand and keep up with him. When you arrive, it’s large and lavishly decorated, but you don’t get an opportunity to process it. 

Loki practically throws you onto the bed in front of him. 

“Open yourself to me,” he commands you. 

You hesitate, nervous and naked in this stranger’s room. 

His stare bores into you. “Are you daring to disobey me, pet?” The way he said things like this always baffled you. The words themselves were threatening, but his tone was purely quizzical. “To deny your King his pleasure? I do believe there would be heavy punishments for such defiance...”

“N-no... sir.”

His tone turns hard and gravely. “Then obey your King and spread your legs.” 

You do as he says, and he takes in the sight of you. “Ah, what's this?” he said as he ran a finger through your wetness, bringing it to his mouth to taste it. “So wet for me, and yet we haven't even begun.” 

You feel your breathing quicken again, and the feeling of such vulnerability in this position only leaves you more flustered. 

“What a naughty girl you are...”

He lowers to kneel between your legs. His kisses and tongue are cold and soft. They line your thighs and all over your pelvis, anywhere but where you need him most. He continues this endlessly, never giving you the pleasure you desire. You begin to move your hips, trying desperately to get what you want. 

“Loki... please...”

“You will receive pleasure when I believe you have earned it, pet. No sooner, and no later. If it happens to torture you, so be it.”

Now he was still and unmoving just above your wet, pulsing heat. His eyes lock onto yours once more. The look of him between your legs, staring into your eyes makes you even more desperate. You can feel his chilled breath against you, causing you to squirm. You begin to buck your hips once more, whimpering with need. 

He backs his head away from your desperate thrusts, clicking his tongue three times. “I choose when you receive your pleasure darling. The harder you try, the longer this will take...”

His words cause you to whine with need, but you put all your effort into holding still. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, trying to control yourself.

His mouth crashes into you. You let out a cry of pleasure as his silver tongue begins to work over every inch of you. It is as is there is no nerve left untouched. He nibbles at your most sensitive spot, before pushing a finger inside you. 

“Oh Fuck...” You hear yourself moan. 

He stops. 

You groan at the sudden and entire removal of him. He pulls himself on top of you and nibbles at your ear before whispering into it, “If you are to make any sound, it shall be my name. Do I make myself clear?” 

“Yes sir...” you wine to him in response, just wanting him to continue. 

“Good girl...” He returns to his place, his head between your legs once more. His tongue still moves over you like water, pleasuring one part of you before fluidly moving to the next. Back and forth, he keeps going like this until you are on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm. 

“Oh... L-Loki”

He continues his work on you just for a moment, before retreating once more. This earns him another groan from your lips. 

“If I do grant you release, pet, it will be when you are taking every inch of me inside you...” His words are almost like growls at this point, as he positions himself at your entrance. He barely pushes into you, only to quickly back out as soon as you push closer to him. 

A disappointed whine escapes your lips. “Loki...” 

“Beg. Beg for me to fill you. Beg until your voice leaves you and I will take you with the strength a god can possess.”

His words light your insides on fire. All you want is him. 

“Please. Please fuck me Loki. Please use me. Please take what is yours. I just want you to use me. Please.”

Your begging satisfies him, and with a single thrust, Loki is inside of you. You cry out his name as he thrusts in and out of you, faster than you thought possible. It feels unworldly, the way he slides in and out of you so perfectly, and how wet you are to receive him. 

As Loki gets closer, you feel yourself coming to your edge. Loki grabs your hair and pulls your head back. “I can feel you tightening. Cum for me. Look at me and cum for your King,” he growls, never letting his piercing eyes leave yours.  

His words are all you need. 

‘LOKI!” 

Your body is sent into a storm of pleasure, your body pulsing and shaking around his. He continues to push into you until your tightening around him sends Loki into his end as well. He unravels in front of you, his thrusts becoming less rhythmic and his eyes roll back. He is gasping as if he had been holding his breath. 

Finally, he collapses on top of you. Both of you are sweating and panting. 

After a moment, he rolls to the side, laying on his back next to you. 

“Wow... that was amazing” you stammer. “But I really should get back to work now...”

Loki chuckles at your ignorance. “You truly are a naive mortal...” He rolls over to sit up and look at you once more. “...if you honestly think I am done with you.” 

Thank you so much for reading! Again, this is my first one shot and I honestly don’t know if it’s any good. Please, Please, Please let me know if you like it!

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 15. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you.

A/N: “Let’s talk about s*x baby, let’s talk about you and me.”, going off the rails, as I always tend to. Enjoy, babes.

Warnings: Oh, first kiss like hello bitch? Some smut happening/implied at the end of the chapter. Also, I think it's time to properly hit it off and just slowly start to slide towards the end.

Word Count: 3.7 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six Part seven  Part eight  Part nine  Part ten  Part eleven  Part twelve  Part thirteen  Part fourteen

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

You couldn't actually believe that it happened - for some unknown reason, you found a fucking gem hidden amongst the other guys, with such a silly coincidence. Yeah, having Steve close could be described as a drug, simply. 

The evenings after your work were the absolute best. It was nice to have fancy dinners, to go into some crazy places; but as the weather got crazier and crazier, you started to have him over. Sometimes, he even slept at your place. On the sofa, but you tried your best to stay cool about that. 

It wasn't about you not being attractive or whatever - it was just about Steve being Steve. That was just a thing you discovered throughout the time. Steve being Steve consisted of holding your hand on the street occasionally, but just really innocently, sitting far away from you on the sofa, really gentlemen manners, never ever being mature or whatever. 

Bucky told you that those things were completely normal around that man out of time - and that it was bullshit to wait for him changing the things around. Not gonna happen, girl.

“How about yesterday’s hangout?” - Bucky asked from somewhere between Deena’s neck as he kissed her tenderly. You, Buck, Deena, and Sam were hanging out for that day’s lunch pause and so far so good. 

“You already know the answer, Buck.” - You mumbled and rearranged the glasses on your nose. Yesterday, Steve was having a sleepover at your place and you watched Harry Potter together. That man never saw those movies and Sam hadn't the time to show him. 

It was all fun, kind of romantic, cheesy enough, it was fun with a lot of popcorn and some really sweet drinks. As usually, Steve fell asleep on your couch, this time during the three trials of the Goblet of fire. Then you turned the movie off, covered him in a spare blanket and called it a day as well.

“Lemme guess.” -  Deena looked at you from under Bucky’s armpit and you almost didn't see her eyes because of the cap she was wearing. That piece of clothing was definitely her boyfriend’s. Sam Wilson, another of their friends, was walking on your second side, sipping some green-ish smoothie which looked disgusting to you. - “Steve was acting like Steve, wasn't he?” 

“I’m tellin’ ya, girl. Ma boy is just all over the place from you, even after all the time ya just simply hang out with him...” - Sam threw a hand over your shoulder and shook you a bit, offering you a sip from that disgusting smoothie. 

The more you got to know Sam, the more touchy and feely person he was around you. But it wasn't too much at all or something like that; it was just in a friendly way and you could feel that. So his huge fucking arm over your tiny shoulder? That was a normal thing for you at that time - after hanging out with Steve for three to four months. 

The first date was something that almost made you explode with happiness - Steve really put some effort into that. It wasn't effortless after that one night, not at all; but Steve was still nervous around you. Sweet and caring, but fucking nervous. And you could feel that. 

But you wanted to cuddle, you would beg to be kissed, you would bring him the whole world if he only indicated that he loves you. You just needed that - your patience was wearing. It would take only a slow push to throw you off the fucking cliff. 

And you pushed his fucking smoothie away because it just smelled so terribly.

“You would bet your fucking birdy brain, asshole.” - You looked at Sam with a shocked face. 

“Then fucking do it, girl, and stop yellin’ at me. It ain't my fault at all. Jesus, those hormones are just fuckin’ you up.” - Sam said and watched you like you were a fucking psycho. Yeah. The period was always the toughest time in women's life - and you were letting Sam and Steve letting to know your feelings. From the men, you were always only nice to Bucky, because he was always nice to you.

You didn't have your period, it ended up like three days ago, but you told Sam that it continued so you could behave like a dick to him without finding excuses, which you did anyways. 

“So, it is pretty obvious to me. Because your little Stevie is fucking oblivious, we need to make a plan.” - Deena peeped from under Bucky and opened the door to the bistro you were visiting that day. As usual, there were a few ladies and some young boys who desperately wanted to take a photo with the less known Avengers. 

You knew how to handle those situations with smiles - Steve had taught you, how not to freak out when someone wanted to take a photo with him. It usually happened when you and Steve went to the supermarket or to take some takeaway food. The people were just so happy to meet those superheroes in person, to have a small talk and to leave.

That was pretty ok and some fans of Steve, Buck or Sam even appreciated you, asked about your day and so on. Sometimes they even insisted on having you and Deena on the photo, usually adding something like “Even a supersoldier needs a shoulder to lay and cry on” or “Behind every successful superhero, there is a woman” and you personal favourite was “Superheroes find super girlfriends who can bare their whole history and personality and love them for who they are” (you saw that on one young lady’s Instagram story - there was a photo of you watching Steve with a dead stare when he was choosing his ice cream’s flavor for a half an hour; Peter had shown it to you while you were at work.)

“What kind of plan, Deena?” - You raised her eyebrows at her and she and Buck shared a stare like it was completely obvious. 

“I would name it the ’Seducing Steve’ plan for work purposes.” - She said in a laid back tone and sat down into the furthest box. 

And so, wizardry and witchcraft were starting when those three started to discuss how to seduce Steve Fucking Rogers.

---

“Oh, she's in a good mood.” - Bucky answered Steve’s question when he and Sam came back home from their work out. - “It is a pity that youve missed that lunch. We had such a good time.”

“Oh, yea?!” - Sam shouted from the bathroom so loudly, that the glasses started to shake. - “Yo girl almost killed me four thousand times, she was grumpy and a pain in my fuckin’s ass!” 

“That is what you get from messing with the ladies. Oh wow, how sad I am that she didn't hit your forearm with that fork.” - Bucky yelled back and Steve was really confused - he was about to buy her some chocolate nonetheless and some other snacks, but he needed to know how he should act. 

“WHAT?!” - Sam’s head peeked from behind the door at that exact moment. - “She started all those kinds of beef and now your taking her side? Traitor!” - The chocolate skinned diva closed the door again. 

“I will leave you to that.” - Steve slowly put his jacket on, but Buck and Sam got into their beef so much that they didn't even notice that Steve is leaving. - “Today is the day od Lord of the Rings. I'm curious about that and I hope I won't fall asleep.” - He smiled and left the flat, writing you a super-short text. 

Steve: See you at your place in ten.

---

You checked yourself in the mirror for the last time - you had a lumberjack shirt put on because according to Sam and Buck, Steve was secretly living for women in shirts; especially with some nice top under it. Fuckingly tight jeans were just something that needed to be and some high-heeled boots were it. 

Sam said that you didn't need anything more than that. 

But Bucky laughed devilishly, kissing Deena on her temple. You needed one last thing before you could call your plan a success. Other man’s attention. And Bucky was fucking sure you could achieve that, you little hidden she-devil.

And he knew that other man’s attention is something that can make Steve all worked up. Bucky chuckled; he was sure that it will be more than enough to work Steve up for not only just a kiss. But he shut his bitch ass up - if you will take a day off tomorrow, he will know that the plan worked.

When Steve showed at your door, you let him in - but only to put the paper bag near your fridge. Then you put your old, but the still sexy, jacket on. This one especially Deena’s favorite; she used to say that this jacket was making your boobs bigger and that it practically screams fuck-me-here-and-now. The only problem with it was that it wasn't really warm.

“You're going somewhere?” - Steve asked with a small smile, frowning a bit. 

“Yeah. I want to leave for the night, have some fun in the downtown. Sorry that I didn't text you that I'm changing the schedule, I just thought that I can surprise you.” - You locked the door to your apartment and took his elbow to your hand, leading that poor and scared man behind you.

From nowhere, Deena took some tickets out of her purse - it was tickets to some local stage where a DJ would be performing. She wanted to go, but in the last while, she decided that she wanted to do something different - which implied that she wanted to fuck the night away. 

But it was your chance after all - a chance that shouldn't be left alone. And if Steve would not hit on you after that? Well, at least you could drink your fucking ass off before showing him what courage looks like.

The night was pretty cold, today at least, but it wasn't that much of a long road. The sky was all iron cold and almost white, illuminated with the yellow shining of the city lamps. Something about that felt nice when you and he walked next to each other on the crowded streets, laughing and simply talking without the smallness of your room, without watching every move he made, if he wasn't closer or too far away. 

He felt less nervous. Bucky got an idea why, but again, that fucker just smiled and sipped his diet cola without giving you a proper fucking answer. 

"So, we're in front of the club. Come on, I wanna have some fun!" - You smiled and basically dragged that poor man inside. Oh yeah. Modern-day disco - Steve Rogers's personal nightmare. His greatest enemy which he couldn't beat even if he tried to.

There was a lot of young people - including people from the age of eighteen, maybe even younger, and up. Steve wasn't feeling his best, that was for sure. But he was doing it for you, that kept him going.

The show itself was good - you screamed most of the lyrics because you knew them from when you and Pete turned on the radio and sang along. That man was a fucking bomb of that summer, which made you wonder why would Deena give up on that tickets so easily and why he was performing for such a small crowd when he could sell out stadiums full of people.

"I'm going for another beer!" - You screamed to Steve, he needed to lean down, and you shook the empty plastic cup. - "You want some?"

Steve would gladly not accept your offer, just because you were getting drunk as hell, and he didn't even know that you had two shots of some really good Russian vodka stuff in each of your cups of the beer. He was drinking as well, but he knew that nothing, except Thor's centuries-old ale, could bring him on his knees.

But he gently refused with a smile, biting those comments down into his lower lip. You shook your shoulders and left to get some other shit.

A guy trailed you down at the bar; he had his eyes on you since the very beginning. Your enthusiasm for the music, your dancing moves and knowing almost every lyric made him watching you all the time. You seemed to have company - but since the man wasn't holding your lips from behind while you danced, since he didn't even kiss you, the bar guy assumed that it isn't your date.

Just a friend. That's what Steve was in his eyes.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself!" - That guy shouted at you so you could at least barely hear him through the EDM and basses. - "I live for that, sweetie! Name's Rick, by the way!" - He offered you a hand. You accepted it without further thinking; it was warm, dry and he had a firm handshake.

He was pretty handsome, you needed to say that, but it was fading away in comparison to Steve's eyes. Girl, you needed to hit a home run that night so bad. You just needed to, not thinking about the rest which might follow right behind.

"Name's Y/N. Awesome to meet you!" - You smiled, getting the cash out of your back pocket.

"Leave it there, Jesus. It's my treat!" - Rick bumped your palm away and quickly paid the beer and two shots. He was watching as you poured them down to the beer with an open mouth. - "Wow. That's something. I like your style!" - He smiled widely and you chuckled.

"So what are you searching for in here?" - He asked when you poured half of the bear down your throat. You frowned cluelessly at him. - "Everyone in there is searching for something. Some of them are feeling tough since they used their fake IDs, some people are looking for a good fuck in here, someone's mingling out there. Might be my case!"

"Oh, really?" - You opened your mouth. Girl, you were so wasted at that moment, I tell you. - "How so?"

"A bad breakup. I'm trying to find someone who would like to mingle!" - He shouted over the start of a new song. - "You?"

"Hitting my best shot with a totally clueless guy! You see him? He's Captain America himself!" - You shouted and Rick suddenly stopped. Shit. Captain was eyeing him down with a dead stare and you were his fucking girl. He needed to back off as soon as he fucking could to save his own damn ass. - "He's the sweetest and most caring guy ever! You know? But when we're alone, he's all nervous. I need to make him make a move with me finally."

"Yeah. I don't wonder why he's nervous. You're so gorgeous!" - Rick complimented you light-heartedly. It made you smile and you tenderly pat his shoulder.

That was all Steve needed to see. A guy whispering you things, you touching his shoulder and laughing out loud. You had the most beautiful face when you were laughing. And he wasn't the reason for that laughter. Steve just stopped from anything he was doing and frowned, watching your every move.

He knew he was taking things too slowly. He was acting like a fifth-grader around you, but it had a specific and good reason. Steve was sure as hell that he would lose control as soon as his lips would touch yours. You smelled so good, you were funny, beautiful and for that matter, he was sleeping on ice for the last seventy years. And he was a man.

It would be a disgrace for Steve to say that he's horny. Or to say it out loud. But the truth is that is was almost painfully obvious for Bucky and Sam, and basically for every single person who knew Steve. Like Natasha specifically.

But sometimes, when you watched the movie like nothing mattered, Steve looked at your partially opened lips and eyes slowly winking, on that messy hair and a right t-shirt - and suddenly, all he could think about was sex. Or literally tearing the top off you, so he could see more of that body. Or just standing behind you while you leaned down to search through your cupboards, just to gently circle his hands around your waist and to brush his weakest spot on that peachy ass.

That was when Steve sat straight and moved even further away from your body. He didn't want to look like a horny rabbit in your eyes. Even if you wanted to fuck soul out of his body when the nearest chance comes by.

You were both such dummies in that matter. Even Peter could tell Steve's not relaxed bevause of something when he met him for the first time. Peter had similar feelings for Liz Allen, but he was just itching to kiss her. Peter could instantly tell what the fuck is going on.

But you couldn't. That's why you were standing at the bar with Rick's face practically laid on your shoulder. And Steve didn't know what to do first - if he should beat the soul out of his fucking body or if he should you home.

The other option said way better.

You could see Steve's body coming through the crowd directly to you and you bit your lip. Fucking Bucky Barnes. He was right; of course, he was, he knew Steve way better than anybody. You looked at Rick and raised your eyebrows, pouring that drink down.

"Wish me luck, Rick." - You kissed his cheek just to work Steve up even more. - "Hoping for the best lady for you to mingle with!" - You held your fingers crossed tightly when Steve approached you in his typical not-so-sure-about-anything behavior. He leaned down to your ear, touching your jaw with shaking fingers.

"Do you want to leave this place?" - He asked in a sultry tone and you smiled at him. You were drunk, your eyes were shining, your smile was big as ever and even though the beer was smelling from you, you were one of the sexiest ladies Steve has ever seen. So when you nodded, he exhaled.

Oh man, did he finally worked up the courage to do you things you will never forget? He was all heated up when you stood in front of the club as you watched the first snowflakes of that year fall down onto the ground.

He covered you in his jacket because your fuck-me jacket was lost somewhere inside.

"Your place or mine?" - He whispered, playing with his thumbs on your jawline.

"What?" - You asked drunkenly and giggled.

"Don't you try to play that innocent card on me now." - He stood up laughing, watching the people looking at you. No stupid photos now; he would most likely kill them if they would ask. Right now, he had some bigger problems which you needed to solve. - "I know what you're after. And I'm after that as well, kitten. So... I'm asking, you if it's your place or mine."

Sam was at home at that time - not much of a problem for Rogers. He would just swing you on his shoulder, look at his friend and he knew that Sam would immediately know that he should leave the place hella fast. Buck was over at Deena's and Steve knew that they're probably occupied by each other as well.

"Mine. Definitely mine." - You sighed and let him lead you home through the crowds of people. They were staring at you two - Cap and his drunk girlfriend. Oh, did Steve know that his reputation will be torn apart in tomorrow's news and he couldn't care less?

Steve was sure that Tony will be making fun of him or teasing him alongside Clint, Bucky and Sam will be eager to hear every single detail, Natasha will have that sultry face and curious eyes - but Steve decided that every one of them could go fuck themselves if they want.

All he wanted at that moment was you, finally naked, in the shortest time possible.

You almost crashed the door to your flat. The first kiss sure wasn't as romantic or slow or pure as would've wished, but you didn't think about that much. Why? Your back was pressed to the wall next to your door as you were slowly turning into a moaning mess.

There was a little thing that nobody knew about Captain America himself, maybe even Bucky didn't - he was extremely eager. Thanks to his self-control, he was somehow able to hide that element of his personality in front of the others. But he knew how he acts when he has nothing that would make him stop.

The warmth of someone's body leads to touching. Touch leads to a kiss. The kiss leads to foreplay. Foreplay leads to showing you the heaven's gate. That was just how he saw things.

You stripped the jacked off your body in a short five seconds, along with the shirt. You could hear your furniture moving, falling down and crashing onto the ground. You didn't fucking care at all.

Steve was hot under your touch, firm and smooth, his kisses were sweeter than Bucky's plums and the palms on your ass were making you nuts.

Boy, you didn't know what pleasure the man out of time will bring you that night; but you couldn't wait.

[lovelyrhink]

for @daddyrhett

it’s sunny in the park, golden bright like spring days in may should be. link’s parked on a bench with his son’s stuff, watching as his boy tumbles down into the grass. lando leaps up with mud on his knees and gives them a half-hearted swat before running off again. his dad smiles to himself, a bittersweet loneliness coming over his heart. part of him wishes lando’s mom could see how confident lando is when he’s on link’s side of the city, maybe then he’d have a little longer with him, more than half the summer. 

it’s hard for his son, going between worlds. link knows that his ex-wife can’t go without seeing their son’s smiling face any longer than he can, but the back-and-forth wears him out, and lando, too. sometimes link feels guilty for putting his son through it, wishes he could’ve settled down with lando’s mom and given him a sister or brother, but it’s just not how life worked out for them. link’s caught in his sorrow, but perks up when his son waves at him from across the park. 

“hey, buddy!” link shouts, and the achey part of his heart swells with love when his son laughs and chases after another boy. link’s about to slip back into his head when someone approaches and points at the two boys playing.

“that your son?” he asks, and link looks up, squinting through the sun because the man is really tall. he motions his hand as if asking to sit, and link scoots to give him space, which he so clearly needs as he joins link on the bench, thick thighs falling spread. there’s a flutter in link’s chest at the man’s bigness.

link admires the handsome stranger, fixating on his beard before answering. “yeah, lando. he’s ten. is that one yours?” 

nods, “shepherd. eleven. he seems to like making your son laugh.” 

link looks from the stranger to their sons, who are now chasing each other ‘round a tree and throwing dirt clods at one another. link shouts not to throw anything with a rock in it and breathes, settling into the peace. spring birds chirp as the dads sit, taking a moment to admire the boys before greeting each other. 

the bearded dad holds out his hand, and it’s huge. “rhett,” he says, and link shakes, offers his name in return. “you and lando come here often?” 

“yeah, when i have him,” link answers, and there’s a twinge of loss in his voice that might go unnoticed, but link’s eyes betray him when they glance down.

“ah,” the stranger shifts. “i’m sorry. i know how that is.” a young child screams in the space between the words, and when link’s brave enough to look again, he finds the stranger studying him. his eyes are gold-green in the sun and as sharp as his features are. sloped nose and full beard and perfect hair, link lets himself stare a little bit too long, and when the man speaks again, his lip quirks like he doesn’t mind being looked at. eyes on the park, the stranger says, “if you don’t mind me saying so, your kid’s pretty damn cute. cherub-like.” 

link huffs, breathy agreement. “he’s got his mom’s face.” 

“when does he go back to her?” rhett reads between the lines but doesn’t shy from the topic, which link appreciates. it’s like he can sense link wants to talk about it, without any of the bullshit still-married people usually give him. 

“two weeks.” shallow breath. “hey, don’t feel obligated to talk to this divorced dad just because he was sitting alone and looked sad.”

rhett knits his brows, which link thinks look tweezed, or at least hopes are. “i talked to you because our sons might become friends. and you’re not the only divorcee on this bench, i’m single too.” rhett glances at him, and link catches something that seems nervous. “i mean, a single dad.”

tension melts from link’s shoulders. the stranger felt trustworthy before, but now link feels like he can speak honestly. rhett watches him, sensing as if he’ll say something, silently encouraging link to speak. “sometimes i feel so bad for lando. it’s not his fault his mom didn’t want to stay married to a gay man.” 

link’s heartbeat quickens when he says it, but something about the man is too gorgeous, too honest for link not to. rhett offers a measured breath and turns his attention back on the park. shepherd is at the top of the slide now, with lando scrambling up behind him. he mimes peering through a telescope as if playing pirates, and when lando joins him, link thinks they look like fast friends. 

“me and my wife,” rhett starts, “were always more like best friends. we loved each other very much, but we’d been together since high school and she wanted to see other people. i’m not gay, but i’m not straight, and she knew me well enough that she wanted me to explore my attraction to men. it’s always hard breaking a marriage, even when it’s completely mutual.” 

rhett keeps his hands in his lap when he speaks, but link notes a slight squeeze of his thighs when he mentions not being straight. his story is endearing and somewhat familiar, and link finds himself leaning in. he’s usually attracted to men who know how to speak their feelings, and with this new information, link lets himself feel. sure, rhett’s good-looking, but link’s taken with him, appreciates his vulnerability. “thank you for saying that.” 

“and thank you for wearing your pain in your eyes.” rhett regards him, and the look cuts hot through link’s belly. “most people hide behind their masks like they’ll die of shame if they don’t.” 

“thank you,” link repeats. “but really, i’m okay.” rhett stares him down, and the intensity has link searching the play-structure for their sons. he finds shepherd atop the slide with lando, now seated under the arch with heads pressed together as if conspiring. link’s son makes a happy face, cupid’s lips smiling.  “i just miss him sometimes, even when he’s right in front of me.”

rhett nods but otherwise makes no verbal answer. it’s refreshing, letting the silence fall, leavings things unsaid. the dads sit in quiet for the next ten minutes, enjoying the sun and their sons playing beneath it. on the eleventh minute, rhett calls to shepherd in a booming voice that it’s lunch time. in the moment it takes for shepherd to gallop back to them, lando on his heels, rhett and link exchange a few more pleasantries. 

when the small ones approach the bench, rhett introduces link to his kid, and link does the same. then he asks lando, “did you make a new friend?” in answer, his son beams the biggest smile link’s seen in a while, and it inspires link to do what he had already planned on doing. confident, he grins at rhett and does it.

“we should exchange numbers,” he says, “so the boys can play.” 

beardy smirk, rhett stands to fetch his phone. shepherd pulls on his sleeve and mumbles something about boba, then pizza, then sandwiches, and rhett fuzzles his head. “what do you think, shep?” the dad gestures at link’s son and asks, “you wanna hang out with this kid again?” 

shepherd presses his thin lips and feigns studying his new friend. “he’s okay.” 

lando rolls his eyes, telltale pursed lips a recognizable happiness. he kicks at shepherd’s sneaker, “whatever,” then tells his dad, “i want lunch, too.” 

“okay, okay.” link takes rhett’s phone and hands his over, and they type in their numbers as their sons poke each other. the men swap mobiles, and link sees that rhett’s saved his contact as rhett (shepherd’s dad). it makes him feel warm and tingly, and link smothers the burn in his cheeks by collecting their things. 

when he looks up, shepherd’s wandering off towards the car, hungry and impatient to do something about it. lando stays back with his dad as he says goodbye, and this time when rhett takes link’s hand, he squeezes. rhett lingers a moment too long in link’s eyes, and they pull back, locked in a moment. 

“i’ll call you,” link says, and lando tugs his belt loop. 

shepherd whines from the parking lot, and rhett’s lips twitch. “i’d like that.” 

[jichew]

kim seunghun♡soulmate!au

a/n: this took….WAY TOO LONG to finish. I apologize if this au is not as cohesive bc I did write it over the span of a few weeks lol. Thank you all for waiting so patiently and feel free to leave any requests as I will be free to write this weekend!!! mwah♡

so,, in this alternate universe exists the soulmate tattoo

yes, i know so creative ;w;

essentially, you are born with the name of your soulmate tattooed somewhere on your body

and you have the absolute pleasure of having the name kim seunghun tattooed in cursive across the expanse of your right hip

spicy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

anyway,,, you’re kind of asjsdjkSAD

bc seunghun is such a common name??? and you’ve met so many seunghuns???

but NONE of them are your soulmate :((((

you would know,, considering u basically ripped a guys shirt off when he told u that yes, his name was kim seunghun but no, he did not have ur name on his hip

uhh but that’s a story for another day :,)

anyway,,, ur kinda bummed??

and it’s gotten to the point where you’ve almost lost all hope of finding him

。・°°・(＞_＜)・°°・。

but anyway ,, life goes on I guess

SO

you’re yedam’s older sister by about 3 years

( sorry forgot to mention that important detail )

you both go to the same high school!!!

ur a senior and he’s a FRESHIE

obviously,,, hes a BABY（≧∇≦）

so ur super protective of him

and when you find out he’s been hanging out with some ,, QUESTIONABLE individuals at school

mom mode: activated

“dammie who r these kids”

“MOM, we’re part of dance club together!! they’re super nice i promise”

＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

u just want your baby to stay safe u know??

so when he asks to invite his friends over to practice

you’re like ( ˘ω˘ )

yedam: (◞‸◟)

you: (　˙-˙　)

sad yedam is a big fat NO in this household

so you have no choice but to agree

and as his unofficial mom, you decide to greet his friends !

“hi, i’m y/n! bang y/n!” ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

and like ,,,, you lowkey feel bad thinking his friends were bad bc most of the guys are pretty chill

like this byounggon kid??

the epitome of looks like he wants to kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll ( ^ω^ )

but when you get to the last dude ,,,

he just kinda ~looks~ at you

and ur not gonna lie … he’s HOT

like he’s only wearing a hoodie ,, but he has silver hoops lined along his ears,, and his hair just messily grazes across his forehead

you internally: *･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･’(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)‘･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

uhhhh but also he’s staring u down like he wants to kill u

“i’m hun” he introduces himself coldly

(._.)

he still cute tho

so,,, it’s been a while and yedam has continued to bring his friends over to practice

and you’ve come to grow fond of the boys!!!

esp byounggon :,)))

you guys just click???

except,,,, there’s still a certain blonde haired boy who just doesn’t seem to like u???

like u were walking to ur class the other morning

and you just HAPPENED to see him

so u were like,,, hm let me be a nice person today(＾ｰ^)

so you run up to him and grab his shoulder

“hun!!! what’s up my guy!!” ( ＾∀＾)

honestly,, you went in to this thinking that the only thing hun would do is say hi back???

you: WRONG

he kind of freezes for a second

and you’re like???? u ok bud

he slowly turns around

and his eyes,,, literally pierce into yours

he gingerly takes your hand from its grip on your shoulder, letting it limply fall at your side

and then he slowly walks towards you until your back is pressed against the white brick wall of the hallway, his hands caging you in on either side of your head

slowly, he inches his face towards yours

“stop faking nice to me, we are not and will never be friends”

you internally: hnnngg why does he smell so nice???? is that bath and body works? since when did men shop at bath and body works??(΄◉◞౪◟◉｀)

you externally: HMPH how DARE U invade my personal bubble young man i won’t hesitate to FIGHT(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭

and then he walks off

“FUCK YOU TOO HUN!!! I BET THAT’S NOT EVEN YOUR REAL NAME!! I HOPE U THINK ABOUT WHAT U DID WHEN U GO BACK HOME YOUNG MAN” ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

you are a BIG MAD

like??? who does this kid think he is???

you dont really bother talking to him much after that :///

but also ,, you hate yourself bc you’re still so ATTRACTED to him??? and u don’t even know why??? like bad personalities are such a turn off why ,,???

hmph

ANYWAY

so it’s a saturday night ,,

u know what that means…

party @ byounggon’s place ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

bc what’s a bullet point au w out a party am i right???

basically, gon’s parents were on vacation for the weekend, so he took the chance to have the party of the year

and after the stress of exam season, you’re ready to get SMACKED

lmao i do not support underage drinking kids!

uhhh anyway

this is your first party in a ,, while

so you dress yourself up in a red mini dress and some platform heels and strut your hot ass to gon’s house ;)

by the time you walked up to the house,, it was a full fledged RAGER 😤

so like one second,,, you’re just chilling, shaking your hips to some britney spears

and the next thing you know!! you’re downing your fifth shot of the night

“GON I THIBJK IM GONNA THROW UP”

gon: Σ('◉⌓◉’)

the next thing u know you’re in the bathroom bent over the toilet

(;´д｀)

thankfully,,, you don’t puke

but you do drink atleast five bottles of water and take a power nap on gon’s shoulder

anyway ,,, by the the time you’ve slightly sobered up, you realize your head kinda hurts and the party is still going strong but u promised gon you’d stay to clean up soooo

you end up going upstairs to NAP (ᵔᴥᵔ)

but when you open the door to the guest room at the end of the hall,,,

you just HAPPEN to see hun already there on the bed scrolling through his phone

＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

this man rlly just knows how to push ur buttons huh

if you weren’t so tired maybe you would’ve taken the time to appreciate the way his leather jacket complimented his broad shoulders

like not 2 be rude but this bich looked hella good

but also ur tired :///

“what are YOU doing here”

hun finally looks up and notices you standing in the doorway

and he doesn’t say anything for a while

just kinda stares at you

and it takes you a while to realize that he’s lowkey checking you out

you wouldn’t admit it, but the way his eyes glazed over your form made a pit form in your stomach

finally he locks eyes with yours

“what do you mean what am I doing here, what are YOU doing here?”

he smirks and gets off the bed to step closer to you

“i WANTED to take a NAP but you just HAD to take the only room that doesn’t have people FUCKING” (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

“well it’s not my fault you can’t handle your alcohol”

this BITCH

“can you PLEASE just leave”

“no”

you let out a sigh of frustration and square your hands on your hips

“why do you hate me so much”

“i never said i hated you”

“well the way you act sure makes it seem like you do” you huff

hun cocks his head a little and steps closer to you

suddenly, it seems like the idea of personal space is almost nonexistant

you look up at him

and u notice the way his hooded eyes rest on your lips

and how the air around you both has suddenly gotten heavier

and you feel your body heating up

and you realize that maybe,,, you’re not so tired anymore

“well how about i prove to you that i don’t”

hun’s voice has reached a whisper, his lips only centimeters from yours

and suddenly he’s kissing you

and you’re kissing back

perhaps it’s because you’re not completely sober that you don’t notice the way his touch burns your hip

and if you do, you ignore it

the softness of his lips against yours almost makes you feel drunk again

and the next thing you know, he’s taking off your shirt, hands finding their way to the curve of your waist

as your lips make their way down his neck, you allow yourself to do the same to him

( you wish you didn’t do that )

because as you push his shirtless body against the bed, you can’t help but notice the cursive scrawl lining his right hip

and in that moment, it feels as if you’ve never been more sober in your life

you’re frozen, eyes resting on his hip

and maybe hun, or should we now say seunghun, is not as sober as he seems, considering it takes him a while to track down the path of your eyes

and when he finally does, his heart drops in his chest

he reaches out to grasp some part, any part, of you

but you flinch away

“y/n…. this isn’t what you think it is”

his eyes are pleading you to stay and listen to him

you let out a harsh laugh

“no, no this is EXACTLY what i think it is”

“y/n please don’t -“

and suddenly you’re untangling yourself from the bed sheets, haphazardly throwing your shirt on and slamming the door behind you  

and in that moment you realize that maybe soulmates aren’t as perfect as the world makes them out to be

so the rest of the weekend is spent in your bed,,, wrapped up in ur sheets like a burrito

you don’t really cry much

you’re just ,,, confused

having the idea that your soulmate knew you were his soulmate but never told you, and better yet, acts like he hates you??

(◞‸◟)

yedam: y/n, why have u been laying in bed all day (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

you: ;w;

and as much as dammie wants to talk to you, he has more emotional intelligence than most guys his age (or guys in general tbh)

so he pats your back, makes two bags of popcorn, puts kimi no na wa on his laptop and gets under the covers beside you

it isn’t until the end of the movie when the last of your tears have dried on your face that you look up at him with puffy eyes

“dammie, i found my soulmate”

yedam: Σ('◉⌓◉’)

“it’s not that big of a deal… i don’t think he  wants me anyway”

by the time you reach the end of the sentence, your voice falls into a whisper

perhaps you would like to believe seunghun wanted you

but some things don’t turn out the way we believe

“why would u say that” yedam looks down at you, brows furrowed in worry

“uhh, i mean -“

“WAIT … who even is your soulmate??”

you:👀🍵

“it’s … hun”

“W H A T”

and that, my friends, is how yedam realized u can’t trust people in this world :/

so it’s monday

and as you brush your teeth, you can’t help but feel uneasy knowing that you could possibly see seunghun today

thankfully you don’t

but when it’s finally nighttime and you’re making your way under your covers ,,,

unknown: y/n, open your window

unknown: i’m outside and it’s cold

unknown: this is seunghun btw…

you on the outside: what the FUCK

you on the inside: i’m literally wearing basketball shorts how am i supposed to see my soulmate like this (O_O)

and when you pull back your curtains and open your window, you are met with none other than kim seunghun barreling into your room

“how long were you out there??” (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

“uhhh maybe an hour or so” m(._.)m

and perhaps it’s the motherly side of you that decides to pull his face down and cup his cheeks in your hands in an attempt to warm him up

and you don’t really notice how close you’ve gotten to him until you look down and realize his lips are only centimeters from yours

but when seunghun’s lips form into a little smirk at your obviously flustered state, you quickly retract your hands

“i’m sorry…”

you don’t really make a move to respond to seunghun, choosing to stare at the floor instead

“I know what i did was stupid … and i should have told you from the start… but i’ve had bad experiences in the past with soulmates and i didn’t know if -“

“that doesn’t matter, you should have just told me that you didn’t want me in the first place instead of making me feel this way”

you’re a bit pissed off now

that this dude thinks he has the right to act like that and then barge into your room??

but when you take the time to look up at him

his eyes have softened

and he moves a step closer to you

“i do want you though”

… “ w h a t “

“then why have you acted so rude to me?? when you obviously knew i was your soulmate from the start, why did you hide it??”

now seunghun is the one looking down at his hands

and he looks so defeated, before he opens his mouth

“i’m scared”

you look up at him, but he’s still looking down at his hands

“my dad rejected my mom when he found out they were soulmates. i don’t think … he wanted to deal with the commitment of having a soulmate. he thought they were stupid. so he rejected her and he went off to do whatever the hell he’s doing right now. he went off and he abandoned my mom with two year old me and we haven’t heard from him since.”

a single tear drops from his eyes

and you move a step closer and wrap your arms around him

he’s frozen for a second but he hugs you back

and you both stay there for a while, you rubbing his back in an attempt to calm him down

“i won’t ever leave you seunghun”

he pulls back

and despite his red-rimmed eyes and tear stained cheeks, he cups your face with his cold finger tips and kisses you

and you kiss him back

[iminlovewiththestars]

Followed

Followed

by Shannon Burns

The barista shouts my name over the din.

I leap at my coffee, intending to snatch it off the bar in a huff.

I was already running late before the espresso machine jammed, sending scalding coffee spewing in every direction. The resulting debacle was an utter nightmare and really, if I weren’t such an addict, and if I had gotten more than 12 minutes of sleep last night, I would have taken off sans coffee. But I knew there’d be no possible way for me to get through the day without my customary triple venti. Today I made it a quad.  

Of course, some dude chooses the exact same moment to retrieve his iced green tea that’s been chilling on the bar for at least five minutes.

“Oof.” I end up wrapped around him like a car around a steel pole.  “Sorry.” I try not to sound resentful when I say it.

“No, my fault.” He slides me my coffee with a sheepish grin. “Looks like you could use this.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I nick the cup, and begrudgingly give him the once over.

He’s attractive enough, but he looks like a total wannabe. The shabby, artsy type. Scruffy face. Beany. Nerdy glasses.  Wearing a plaid shirt, skinny jeans, and converse to boot. So cliché. I mean, who drinks iced green tea in the middle of January, anyway? Give me a break. I don’t have time for slackers when I’m already late for my real job.

I slip past him to make my escape.

He calls after my retreating form. “Please, let me …”

But I don’t catch the rest. The door slams behind me and his words are whipped away by the howling wind.

I toss back a shot of the brew to banish the cold. It scorches my throat, but I don’t care. I need caffeine like a hypothermic reptile needs the sun. Like I need the sun, which happens to be hiding its radiance, I note, glowering at the hazy sky. Not that I’m surprised. The sun rarely makes an appearance around here this time of year. Plus, it’s before sunrise, or at least, I think it is.

My breath ices the air and I pull my cowl tighter to block the arctic wind. I hoof it six blocks down Main without looking up, gulping at the dregs of my coffee before I’ve even made it two.  The caffeine buzz jolts my pulse into high gear and the resulting jitters snuff even the memory of sleep deprivation from my limbs.

Now that I’m more than semi-conscious, I feel a tinge of regret over the coffee shop incident. Green Tea Guy seemed nice enough, and I was a bit abrupt with him. Okay, so, I totally blew him off.

I sigh. Too late to do anything about it now. So, I tell myself to get over it. It’s not like he’s my type anyway. Still, I should have let him down easy with my go-to, I’m-married-to-my-job excuse. Strictly speaking, it’s not even a lie.

I sneak a quick peak from beneath my cocoon of warmth, intending to hang a left on 132nd, like always, only to realize I’m not at 132nd. I’m not even on Main.

Dammit. Six years. Six years that coffee shop was on Main and then two weeks ago, out of nowhere, they up and moved. And, in my zombie-like state, I forgot to remind myself that my autopilot is broken until I can reprogram the new route.

I glance around, hoping to spot something familiar, but I don’t frequent this side of town. Actually, I’m not even sure I’m still in town.

Dilapidated, industrial buildings loom over the street. In the dim light, colorful, broken glass throws distorted shapes on graffiti-littered walls. Dark, broken-out windows glare from above.  A fire escape hangs precariously like a gruesome scar slashed across the face of the building. A trash dumpster’s lid has been thrown wide like a gaping maw without teeth. The mist rises off the concrete like the visible stench of a monstrous beast, slumbering in the darkness of the predawn hours.

I take a step back.

Maybe it’s just coffee jitters, but my heart is racing out of control. It strikes against my ribs like a caged animal attempting to break free.

I gulp at the frigid air in an attempt to calm my frantic nerves. The bitter cold seeps through me. Icy fingers claw their way under my coat, piercing my flesh and chilling my bones. A shiver crawls up my spine.

I turn, escaping back the direction I came. My slow, plodding footsteps echo on the pavement like a gong, reverberating off the buildings, amplifying with every step.

My eye catches movement, shadows darting between the buildings.

My roommate jokingly sent me an internet meme once, mocking my caffeine addiction. I poured red bull in my coffee this morning. I can see sounds. At the time I laughed. But it’s not so funny now as paranoia sweeps over me.

I’m being followed. Only it isn’t possible. It’s just my footsteps hammering at my brain. There’s nothing there. Just my imagination. But I keep glancing over my shoulder anyway.

Nothing. Still, I can’t help but sense something is watching me.

Light floods the street behind me.

I turn and shield my eyes, trying to peer through the hazy brilliance. What the…?

A car bears down on me from the far end of the ally.

I beeline to an adjacent alley, barely clearing the car’s path.

An enormous, black beast of a car roars past. It screeches to a halt, and then reverses to stop dead in front of me. I don’t know cars, but this one looks sleek and fast, like a panther stalking its prey in the night. Unfortunately, I’m the only game around.

I stand unmoving, rooted to the spot, gaping.

The engine idles. A darkened window whirls down.

Curiosity has gotten the best of me. Or maybe it’s that my adrenaline response is broken. Instead of fight or flight, mine’s set to freeze.

“Get in.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. It’s just Green Tea Guy from the coffee shop. But then my heart’s doing double time.

He followed me. And he looks different. Maybe it’s just the car, but I doubt it. He’s dropped the starving artist act. Instead, he’s opted for full on Men in Black.

“Wow, stalker much?” I snap, trying to force my shaking voice into indifference. I turn on my heel, intending to escape down the side alley that saved me from being the victim of vehicular manslaughter mere moments ago. But no such luck. It’s a dead end.

“Rachel. Get. In.” He punctuates each word, eyes darting around anxiously. He’s seriously tweaking.

I’d be wigging out right now that he knows my name, if it weren’t for the fact that the coffee shop barista broadcast it loud enough for the whole world to hear. I bet the North Koreans are trying to decode who or what a “Rachel” is and whether or not it signaled the launch of World War III.

“I’m armed.” My declaration is probably a wasted effort, but I’m hoping against hope that it will buy me a moment.

My shaking hands fumble my keys, unable to locate the object of my intent. Finally, I hold up my pepper spray in evidence. The fact that it’s glittery probably isn’t doing me any favors at the moment, but what I can say, it’s not like I ever thought I would actually I use it. Well, I mean, use it for anything more than ornamentation.

He approaches, his speed belied by his smooth, languid movements.

I shrink against the wall, holding my sparkly weapon aloft. I can’t watch. I squeeze my eyes shut. My hand trembling, I take aim and...

My keys clatter to the ground before my finger finds the trigger.

I’m shotgun and he’s back in the driver’s seat, punching the gas before I can unravel what happened.

I reach for the door, trying to get out, but it’s locked. I pound the unlock button but it’s no use. My only weapon is gone, and I’m trapped. “Let me out, you psycho!”

He doesn’t even glance my way. “You have to come with me.” His frantic nature of a moment ago is replaced by statuesque indifference.

Now I’m the one tweaking. “Like hell I do.” I claw at any button I can reach, hoping one will be the key to my freedom.

“It’s not safe.”

He may appear to be the epitome of control, but something’s wrong with this dude. Because yeah, being kidnapped and held hostage does not scream safe and sound to me.

I flip through ideas, trying to come up with something, anything. I need a plan of action to get out of this mess. But I’ve got nothing. Nothing but desperation. So, I guess that will have to do.

I lean over, grab the steering wheel, and veer hard to the right, directly into a brick wall. I brace for impact.

He jerks the wheel, swerving back toward the center of the road. “You trying to kill yourself?” He eyes me like I’m the crazy one, pushing me back down into my seat where I can no longer interfere with his driving.

I turn away like a petulant child. “No, apparently that’s your job.”

“Rachel, I’m here to protec--”

I snap. “Seriously, dude. You don’t know me. So, stop acting like you do.”

My outrage is met with no response.

I sigh. Being hostile has gotten me nowhere. So I opt to switch tactics. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot. How about I tell you about myself? I’m the only child of parents who adore me. And, I know I don’t see them as much as I should these days, but losing me would destroy them. And they aren’t made of money. Not the kind needed for a ransom. So, how about you just let me go? We can forget this whole thing ever happened.” I’m rambling.  And I know it’s a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, appealing to his humanity might work.

“Bad plan. I’m not human.”

That settles it. He’s completely off his rocker. “What… what do you mean you’re not human?” I don’t even want to think about how he knew what I was just thinking.

“I’m taking you somewhere safe.”

Safe. There’s that word again. Just who does he think he is? I shake my head. “So, the batcave then?” Maybe he’s under the misguided impression that he’s some sort of superhero. Nothing else makes sense. I mean, this whole thing is just so inexplicable.

“Batman’s human.” His words carry no inflection. No indication as to whether or not this is one big joke. And nothing to indicate that what is occurring is in any way out of the ordinary. He just stares straight ahead. Rigid. Focused. Driving like a bat out of hell.

“Human. Riiiiight.”

(c) Shannon Burns. All rights reserved.

[storiesnstormsinmyhead-blog]

Stories we tell ourselves

Some of us are born with a natural sense of bravado and bravery. Confidence in their collect features. But many of us are not, to many, such was the case for Reynold Roy Richardson, the third son of Miguel Jonathon Richardson. Reynold Roy Richardson, Roy for short, was born with exceptionally low confidence in everything. He was averagely tall and averagely skinny and had average body type and average coloring. Just another shade of blue in the fifty eight crayon box. And although some days he wished to be something better, he had no real motives to get there and so settled with being happy with his droll, tired, average self. He could shoot a hoop from half court given enough tries, and while the guys at school thought that was pretty cool, so could everyone. However one day his life took an unexpected turn for the oddest. It started in home ec class, his usual partner who added too much salt to everything was gone for the day, so he was paired with Ruby haired Robin. Ruby haired Robin was a loner oddball who watched asian cartoons and drank real smoothies and had short red hair the stuck up at odd angles. Her doctor who sweater was too big for her and her boots too tall, her glasses seemed to eat half her face under their big frames. As she sat down he could almost feel her discontent and irritability at the long day. They made cupcakes, but instead of putting a perfect hat of frosting on them Robin dolloped a huge drippy mess of hers, they cleaned up and she stacked everything wrong and it fell down in a huge clatter. It soon became obvious to Roy that Robin was exceptionally perfect, at being completely imperfect. The next day she had a homemade beanie and they made banana bread. She tried to start conversion.

“Hey you, don’t you think miss Barreyman looks like she should be wearing a bowtie?” It was an odd question but did make sense if you saw miss Barreyman. Miss Barreyman wore power suits and high heels everyday and drank black coffee out of a gallon mug without smudging a bit of her bright red lipstick. She looked like she could have gotten away with murder in her youth, but now had tired eyes and drippy eyeliner and less perk and pep.

“Yeah sure”

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Ruby chirped, honestly would she just shut up? Why did she wanna talk to me anyways?

“No”

“Oh sorry.” lapse silence “Do you watch doctor who?”

“No, but my sister does” My freaky man obsessed sister, I borrowed her laptop once when I was ten and that's how I learned how men made love, well gay men, in her adolescent imagination.

“Oh thats cool, Supernatural?”

“What?”

“The show?”

“I don-” the bell rang, “I gotta go” finally, free from her weird conversation topics.

The next day Robin wasn’t there, salt boy was back. we made brownies, I turned my back for one second and when the brownies came out of the oven they shimmered with a fine layer of salt, he had mistaken the teaspoon for the tablespoon again. We had no conversation, but I kinda missed the weird break from normality that was Ruby haired Robin. She didn’t come back the next day, or the next day, or again. Later that week there was an article in the newspaper about a young teen girl commiting suicide. However I got a nagging sensation she was still around. Rationally she couldn’t be, but I swear I felt her irritation and discontent still, following me around. Then it happened, I was just chilling in my room gaming and eating BBQ Lays when I heard a sigh, I looked up and saw Robin, or rather a specter of her, sitting on the corner of my bed staring longingly at the bag of chips i was eating. Gone was the dark makeup and cakey foundation that looked hastily applied. In its place was a plain, but not unadorable face, slightly boyish with freckles and light lashes. hair was several shades lighter and curly in a baby pony tail, and she was wearing a huge pair of dragon pj pants and a tank top with a bow on the front. With a gasp Roy leaped from the spot on his bed and to the window and started fumbling for the latch, he had seen enough horror flicks to know what would happen next.

“Eeeek!” Robin saw his sudden scare and jumped off the bed and backed towards the door.

“Holy crap you’re dead!”

“Obviously! I’d actually be eating those chips if I could. I haven’t had anything to eat in like five days and I’m dying…” She stopped realizing the actuality of the pun “Again”

“But you’re dead, like dead!”

“Yes I am, it’s all the aliens fault.”

“Aliens?!?”

“Yes aliens!” She settled down on the bed again. “I don’t quite remember my death but I remember that there was a bright white light like a beam and I was lifted up and then it was really painful and I died, and since God doesn’t exist for me it must be aliens.”

“Okay…” This chick was clearly mad, looney, but since I was seeing ghosts didn't that make me looney as well? “So what would I do about that?”

“Well I don’t quite know why but as soon as came to you were standing right in front of me. It was at school in the home Ec lab. And since then I can't wander away from you. It’s like you’re my earthly tether?”

“Well then untether yourself! And leave me alone. I don't believe in ghosts.”

She seemed to shrink, ”I’m sorry but I don’t know how to do that!!!!!” I immediately felt both bad and embarrassed, I was yelling at a dead girl.

“No don’t be sorry, I’m sorry for yelling, but seriously, you could try to untether yourself…” Even that comment seemed stupid to me.

“Can you tell me how that game works?” She completely ignores it.

“Um sure.” I picked up my controller and proffers it to her small hands when I realize it will just fall through.

Our heroes spend the rest of the day with Roy eating chips and pointing out how different buttons work to a confused and hungry little ghost girl.

“And see, The boss has been defeated and now I just walk over using the joystick to walk and steer and can collect all my booty-” He stops when he hears a soft sighing whistle, draped across the shelf in the corner is a sleeping Robin, apparently ghosts sleep. Her face is turned away and her arms are crossed as they hang off the shelf.

“Royyyy! Dinner time!” His mother called him to the table.

“Coming!” As Roy shut the door to his small room he remembered, the dead don't need to breathe, so if Robin snored it was out of habit, a painful reminder of the times she had been full of life.

“Why do girls wear so much makeup?” Roy's questions all seemed to be common knowledge to me. I wonder why his brain hasn’t thought to comprehend these things yet, I will not say as much however because it would he horribly rude. Many things he thinks are common knowledge I have not even began to think through yet.

“Well… because they don’t believe they look good without it or desirable to the people they wish to attract. And it is a mask to hide behind so that they can face others of their species proudly without feeling inefficient. I wear- wore mine as a mask so that people would leave me alone and know I did not want to be apart of their games.”

“What games?”

“The contest between girls to be the best, like how some girls like to manipulate guys into liking them just to feel important and get all the attention because they base self worth on those things. I guess I understand how they need these things to feel alive, and I won’t oppose them unless they hurt someone I care about then I will destroy them. There are too many to oppose plus it doesn’t seem fair to deny them their existence.”

“Why do you think you’re any different?” The question is loaded and Roy knows it.

“I’m not, I just try harder not to be.” He snorts in surprise.

“Why just people who are important? What about yourself?” This seems genuine.

“I’m not very important to myself, I guess I wanted to live because anything else is scary and the effort, but I don’t see why I should be special because I don’t have any special talents and I don’t want to run around being just self important.”

“Isn’t that view a bit insulting to the people who care about you?”

“Yes, but what else do you expect me to do? Go to K-Mart and buy myself some self confidence? If I’m just a melodramatic teenager like normal this should go away soon and if I’m not I’ll just go buy something to fix it.” I can feel my translucent shoulders begin to tighten up and tears hot in my throat, I swallow them down before they spill out. Funny how even ghosts can cry, I wonder if ghost tears have magical potency? One spills and as I reach up to brush it off Roy dabs it with a sleeve.

“Hey sorry, you okay?”

“Yeah sorry I’m just overactive!”

“Come here?” He awkwardly offers me a hug, I don’t want to be rude and also, even dead girls need a hug sometimes.

She’s a fellow comrade in normalcy, and I feel sympathy, I also know how it feels to be frustrated by my lack of talent. As she accepts my hug I also feel envy, men aren’t suppose to cry.

Air rushes past us suddenly and we are flung into space violently buffeted by wind and something else like small rocks. Surprise makes me grip the only solid seeming thing around me, regardless of the weirdness of the solid. I can hear Robin screaming, or is that me? Then stillness, we are jerked into a still space and righted, well mostly…

Blinking tears out of my watering eyes I perceive colors and then images, it’s like we’re standing inside a painting, fractured images surround us in ever changing patterns and textures. Robin gives a little gasp and moves fluidly towards one. I follow not wanting to get lost inside this seeming endless maze of mirrors and illusions. I manage to grab her bare foot as she is sucked forward into the image.

Space, outer space, below the earth twinkles like a diamond covered in muddy water and around us are lights and nebulas of dust. It seems like it should be cold but I cannot feel anything, Robin gives a cry of excitement and spins in a circle laughing.

“It's just like a story I saw once!”

“Saw?” I grab at a rock floating next to me and do several slow spins in place.

“Yeah, I saw it in a dream!” She tries to right me and ends up floating the opposite direction, I grasp her wayward feet so that we are not separated. A roar buffets by us and a giant, gray, blinking mass careens past us like a torpedo. The alien saucer heads straight towards earth on a warpath. Robin gives a little yelp of fear and puts herself in front of me, like her slight body can hide me from the probing spacecraft. Fear is written on her face, and for the first time I think I may believe her a little bit about the alien story. Air rushes again and a pulling sensation drags us back, until my room swims into focus before my eyes. Robin sits against the other side of the room frozen in fear, no matter of potato chips or british shows lures her out of her spot lodged behind the door.

When she finally moves her heart is set on finding out what happened, she swears it’s somewhere, somewhere in her memory she blocked out.

I know now I have to know what happened, no matter how painful or violating the truth, a morbid part of me needs to know. If curiosity killed the cat than satisfaction brought her back. Me and Roy watch movies on aliens; independence day, alien, doctor who: the water of mars. Nothing sparks recognition. I look for scars on my body when Roy isn’t home but all I find are all my old self harm scars with my new cuts that now would never heal, just glow a subtle red against my skin. When I look at then my head hurts remembering the mood that made me do that, but it seems with my body I also shed a weight that the doctors called clinical depression, funny, it felt like a weight before, now it feels like the aliens stripped more from me than life, a part of my mind i missing. My fingers burn to hold a pencil, stupidly i try, the pencil moves an hair’s breath when I go through it. I have nothing else to do so I commit to picking up the pencil.

“Hey so you know Ruby Haired Robin?” I casually ask Bryan in the locker room.

“Yeah! That chick who liked Brian and always carried a sketchbook with her?” Bryan is a tall, athletically gifted guy with killer abs and a crisp cut look like a male model. He doesn’t have much in the way of brains but if you give him a piece of paper he can write a sonnet to make shakespeare cry.

“Yeah her! Wait she liked Dwain?” Hm interesting.

“Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Well… do you know if they stated a cause of death?” He cringes a little.

“Morbid man, yeah it said she had been big on cutting, there were hundreds of wounds all over her body and she had bled to death from a few in her sleep.”

“Okay cool! Thanks man.”

When I got home I rushed to my room, the door flies open to reveal Robin sitting at my desk. A pencil is grasped in her hands and she is so focused on her work that she doesn’t even start when I walk in.

“You cut?”

“Yes.” Her focus is solely on the picture she is creating.

“That's what they said killed you.”

“I know”

“Why aliens then?”

She looks up finally, “Because I never cut deep enough to kill me.”

“Can I see?”

“Some of it sure.” Carefully she lifts her pants leg all the way up to show me the red angry lines marching haphazardly up her legs. “It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Okay.” It’s confusing but she doesn’t seem in pain so I let go. “You liked Dwain?”

“What is it, question the dead girl time?” She is blunt.

“Sorta… sorry I was just curious… It’s more a question about why and what a girl likes in a guy… I figured you would know!” She smiles.

“Totally! Well I like Dwain because he was nice to me and didn’t ostracize me because of my looks and attitude. It’s more a kindness crush, I like him because he was nice to me and that made me happy! Then his friends started teasing him and he left me be… no one wants to be liked by a loner if their popular like that. Why you wanna know what girls like?”

My cheeks heat up like volcanos, “Because I like someone…”

“Oooooooohhhhhhhhhh who do you liiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkeeeee!” She drags it out like a kid would.

“Marina….” “Marina K?”

“Yeah…”

“She’s really pretty, just watch out she’s one of the get them to like you just because girls. Play hard to get.” Robin bounces up and down laughing, “ Roy and Marina sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G! First comes loooove then comes marriage! Then comes Roy with a baby carriage!” Robin pokes me in the side and giggles, “And we both know how you get babies since neither of us were absent from health class.”

“You remember who was in that class?” “Totally, most of the people were too embarrassed to look up, but I’ve been familiar with that stuff for a long time and it was fun watching them all blush and nervously giggle.” Thoughtfully she adds, “well knowing Marina you won't have to wait till marriage for babymaking… just babies.”

“Were your parents doctors of something?”

“Sorta, why?”

“Well you were previously associated with the process of babymaking…”

“My dad’s a gynecologist assistant and my mom is a midwife. They didn't think their daughter should be left in the dark about one of the oldest acts of mankind so they got me a few books.”

“Wow, your parents are crazy…” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Maybe to some people, but to me it’s just how I was raised and I wouldn’t ask for anything else!” A dark cloud seems to form in her visage, “I’m really gonna miss that… Damn! Why did I have to die!” Her shoulders start to shake. “It felt like a dream until now, a dream I could wake up from, but I really am dead… And being dead sucks.”

Damn it, my eyes are burning and my nose is tingling in it’s odd, sharp way. I miss my mom and dad so much, my misunderstood, passive father and my hypersensitive, overexpressing mother. Roy looks concerned but I don’t want to be helped, I want to not think or exist anymore. Roy gasps and runs forward but his hands pass through me and when I look down in morbid curiosity, I cannot see myself at all. Then the world goes black for me.

Am I really dead this time? No… I’m just sleeping. No. Im awake, just everything but my mind has faded. I’m guessing I will die soon, again, but the only regret I have is not being able to tell my mother sorry for our fight and for dying, same to my dad. Damn this is stupid, why can’t it be anyone but me! I would happily go back to my disease ridden, messed up body to fix this. But I can’t, I really can’t, and I was stupid if I ever thought I could. After all this is all my fault.

She’s gone! She vanished, one moment so real, the next gone in a wink of the imagination. Snatched away like death took her again, mind, body, and soul. Like static. The air wavers for a second, then again, she flickers back into existence. I almost rush to hug her before I remember, then I pause. Her eyes look tired, like she left something behind when she reappeared.

The rest of the week pasts like a gray rainstorm, time drags on like a tired packhorse. Slowly and worn down until I felt like a walking corpse of a walking dreamer. The boring days of old seem rose tinged to me now compared to the ominous presence in my home. Robin had vanished again off and on when she felt like it and didn’t want to be seen crying ghostly tears. I looked at the drawing she had made to try to figure out what had happened, was it an omen… or was that just my desperate hopes?

In my dreams we frantically searched for her death among the fractile memories scattered in her mind. We searched massive desert plains with beautiful rose sponged skies on the verge of night as the sun tumbled down the throat of nighttime. We scoured the bottoms of ocean so deep that they crushed everything into itself and no light could reach into the murky waters, once you were immersed the only way you could go was down. But while I searched she stayed quiet, distracted. That is until the fourth tuesday in november.

“Roy!”

“Hgrm….”

“Roy!”

“Rrrrrrrr!”

“Roy RoyRoyRoyRoyRoy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“What!!!!!!!!!” I sit upright and to my great horror Robin is chilling at my bedside shaking me awake.

“You sound like an angry twelve year old.”

“What do you want!!!!!!”

“I wanna have an adventure!”

“It’s too early for this…”

“It’s never too early for an adventure!” She chirps. God I want to strangle the dead girl.

“Yes it is!” I roll over and try to ignore her.

“Nope!” Her statement could have been followed by a cheery emojicon it sounded so ridiculous. To make matters worse as soon as my back was turned she put her icy hands through my back.

“S-Stop it!” She wiggles her fingers in front of my face, sometimes she is as solid as a wall other times as thin and vapor.

“I’m dead but I’m still here and I wanna enjoy everything I can!” She pouts then puffs hair off her forehead and to the side.

“Just ten more min.”

“Royyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy.”

“Shhhhhh!”

“I will haunt you until the day you die.” Her threat rouses me from my slumber, no way in hell do I want her to witness my final moments or in fact the rest of my life.

“Fine, where do you wanna go?” I sigh and ruffle my hair.

“I want to go get closure so that I can move on into death.” This answer comes as a surprise!

“Why?”

“Because earth is hell and I want to go into nothing so I am no longer reminded of what I could have done or had. I don’t want to have to see my parent grieve or my existence slowly vanish until I become lost without worldly possessions and isolated until I become simply mad, I wish to go with peace.”

“Okay.” Though sad I thought it sounded completely reasonable. Being forgotten would be painful. “Where will we go?”

“I think I know, I remembered something when I vanished and I’ve been stuck here for a while, it's vague but I think if you help me we can figure out what happened!” She holds out her hands and I hesitantly grab them. A fuzzy warm vortex sucks us up in a silent vwoosh feeling.

Instead of the fearful nothingness that swallowed me up before I feel a warm calm, like acceptance. I had accepted the lonely knowledge that I had ceased to exist for my mother and father. When I had vanished I had gone to see them, I tried to talk to them but they just sat there at the table, my spot sat empty and a sullen silence engulfed the dinner. That had been the final straw, the piece that told me I was good and truly dead. My stuff had been moved and my clothes had been given to goodwill. Nothing remained of my stone collection, even my beautiful river rock paul was gone. There was no way for me to go back to my old life. No way to fix the problem. I was gone, I just hadn't let go. At first I had cried, I was unfair and horrible. I went back to Roy and sat beside him, he couldn’t see me. Life felt unbearable. Then I had appeared and saw his concern. I wanted to indulge in the feeling of being needed and cared about. But I knew I had to say goodbye to everything. It was painful. But I slowly grew accustomed to the feeling, when it became too much I went back to Roy. Now I just wanted to stop all together. I would like to say I am at peace, but to tell the truth, no, no peace for the walking dead.

So we flew forward propelled by that foggy recollection of a memory of mine. A memory I feel I must both dread and accept as a last piece of the puzzle of my death. I’m to scared to go at this alone so I took Roy with me because despite the extremely short and tumultuous times I have know him he has provided the most comfort to me of any person in my life. It’s not love or attraction of any sort, he has simply been kind and shown me support that I had not found anywhere else. In return I wished to give him closure in my demise so he was not left confused or guilty in any way.

I alight upon the asphalt of a sidewalk beneath a shiny street lamp. Dusk pulls over the hills in ribbons of smoky blue and clear soft purple and hazy clouds. Familiar lights glow from a familiar home. This isn’t the real thing but it feels so achingly like it my resolve almost wavers. Then I see a figure move.

Another Robin is inside that house, she’s in her room with a book clutched in her hands, it looks so small. She sniffs ungracefully and wipes the snot away from her nose, her eyes are red rimmed and her cheeks look raw and blotchy. She sets the book down and pulls the leg of her dragon pants all the way to her hip. Red lines across her hips ooze blood, she seems to inspect the wound before slowly letting the pants drop down. Next to me Robin stands stiffly, frozen as if in a trance. The image Robin seems to float to the bed and sit down. She snuggles down into the blankets, the scene looks peaceful even after the life fades from her skin, if you ignore the widening stain of red across her sheets. The Robin next to me is shaking and looks petrified. All of her natural seeming bravado is gone and all that left is a scared girl stripped of all her worldly possessions.

I have realised, that is not what happened exactly, it feels too neat, too fake. I wouldn’t have given up just like that. That’s not right.

At home again I sit tiredly spinning a basketball on my finger. Around and around it goes like the thoughts in my head. What was that light, why did Robin cut? Didn’t it hurt? Robin sits on my window sill and chews restlessly on her nails. Tiny, shimmery, crescent moon nail shards tumble from her fingers occasionally. Her cute features are twisted into a mask of concentration as she mulls over something. I can tell something didn’t sit right with her. “It was to perfect.”

“What?”

“My death.”

“How so?”

“I am a naturally imperfect person with many flaws and bad traits yet I died like a F***ing princess.” Sadly I think I agree, when I first met Robin I could feel her impatience and her imperfections radiating from her body, I cannot imagine someone with that much irritation could die without a complaint, hypnosis or not. “I may have seen my death but I don’t know what lead up to that. What made me want to lay down and give up?”

“What day was it?” Dread gnaws at my stomach.

“Tuesday… I think.” Oh god. “Yeah tuesday!” It had been the day we had talked.

“Do you remember anything?”

“No. Why?” We lapse into silence.

After a long pause, “Didn’t we talk that day? Barreyman and the bowtie?”

“Y-Yeah!”

“What did I seem like?”

I think back and remember her that day, “happy, chipper, and very very talkative!”

“Desperate”, she murmurs under her breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing”, She turns away, but not before I catch a fleeting glimpse of her face, pinched with worry, her lower lip disappearing completely into her mouth.

“Cool cool.” I don’t know how to help her so I pick up my game boy and try to not think of her, she slowly vanishes, almost hesitantly.

Now I am back in ghost space, I know my presence near Roy was making him feel uncomfortable, after all it was me who died and invaded his personal space, I at least owed him the courtesy to have a mental breakdown outside of his presence. So I was desperate that day, then that begged the question what triggered this? It was obviously before Home Ec class or I would have been fine that day. What was so bad it had kept me down all day?

“Did you keep a diary?”

“Huh?”

“Did you, keep a, diary!”

“Sorta.” I slowly reappear into normal space. The only thing that can penetrate my ghost space is words I need to hear.

“Why don’t you go and look through it?”

“Well that might be difficult.”

Roy shifts to look at me over his shoulders, “Why?”

“The police confiscated it…”

“Oh okay.”

“Wanna help me get it?”

“Breaking and entering?! Are you kidding me!!! Try and stop me!” In movies the heroes always seemed to have to steal something and there was always a cool getaway scene with a cute chick and a car chase. It sounded like the perfect way to break the seal on my incredibly boring life, not that Robin hadn’t already done that, although her small a-gender cuteness took away from the mystery and just made her seem childish…

“Today? It’s in a back lab of evidence!” Robin looks nervous, I wonder what is up with her, maybe she doesn’t want me to see her diary.

“How should we get in?”

“Okay so-”

Her diary is small and compact and fits almost in my pocket, the little heart shaped lock is cheap and fragile and the keys jangle behind me as I sprint full force towards the parking lot. It took way too much effort to get in and fool the officers in the first place.

“Halt!!! Mr. John!!!!!” Two officers pound down the hall after me belts clanging. They aren’t quite willing to take out their guns yet because of who I said I was. After all they wouldn’t dare shoot Robin’s boyfriend, whom grief stricken stole her diary from the station to hear the last words of his dear departed love.

Dodging arounds a secretary desk out front I hurdle past the surprised desk attendant and out the swinging doors. Alarms blare, triggered most likely by the magnetic strip inside the diary hidden so that thieves would have trouble finding it. Next to me Robin shouts barely comprehensible, “Roy! Keys!” A wad of keys flies at me from the blur of color streaking by and I catch them. The first vehicle in the lot is a blue and white motorcycle. I grasp the handles and swing on starting the engine with the smallest key on the ring. It roars to life and ghostly hands clasp around my waist in a light embrace. I kick off and we are streaking across the road at seventy in no time. It feels like flying and I know that if we ever make it free of this mess I want a bike like this one. Adrenaline rushes like the blood in my ears muffling everything except my heart, my heart beat seems to be the beat of the world as I turn into the curves of the road. Police cars follow with blaring sirens and blinding lights. Robin squeezes my waist and suddenly we vanish from their view like an invisibility cloak was pulled over us. When I am sure we have lost them, confused and bewildered we drop the getaway vehicle at a streambed and trudge through the culvert upstream at least a mile before making our way to a local park. Exhausted I plop onto a swing back in the woods below a large old apple tree and take out the diary. Robin leans over my shoulder and we flip the the entries closer to the last one.

To Delinx Quarte

School still sucks, yeah I know I’ve said that to many times. I see no point to complete it if I feel like this no matter what I try to do with my life. My therapist tells me it's called clinical depression, I hope it goes away before I have to pay the bills. My energy is basically null and void. I guess at least you're there to listen to me.

To Delinx Quarte

Brian has shunned me for the eighth time this week, I guess I get it, I mean I’m the one who told Kristy I liked him and even if she said she wouldn’t tell, its high school. I guess I’m just stupid for thinking someone like him could talk to me after knowing such an ugly truth.

To Delinx Quarte

Roses are red

Violets blue

Im sad af

So F u to

To Delinx Quarte

Thank you for talking to me all the time.

“Talking to you all the time?” I look questioningly at Robin. To answer she picks up the book and shakes it. A small phone falls out, when I pick it up and flip it open it turns on with a whoosh noise. The screen clears and four new messages blink on the screen.

Robin I’m sorry for slashing, you shouldn’t have run, please come back I’ll bring you to a good doctor!

Robin?

Robin are you there?

Answer me goddamn it!!!!!!!!!!

As I flip through her phone the name Delinx Quarte makes sense, horrible sense. This Delinx claimed to be an alien, or he role played one. He told fantastical stories about beautiful worlds far away and amazing adventures, seriously he sounded like an author. One even make sickening sense as the space saucer heading for earth. He called Robin a petite princess and flattered her with praise for her ingenuity. He listened to her stories she told of cruel classmates and lulled her into false trust with pretty words. He even claimed to be a twenty year old lesbian. Robin told him about having no friends, and her lying confidents, and her crush who ignored her. She leaned on him and never questioned his motives besides being good and nice. Then he said he liked her. Told her what an intelligent girl she was, not like those other high school bimbos. He said they should meet and make cosplay for the next con, his place. The address sounded remote. Robin had her license and drove there herself.

Shakily Robin looks at me and in a small voice tells me what happened there, “I got there and it was ramshackled. She- sorry he didn’t wanna meet in the city because he said his anxiety would flare up.. I went to the door and he answered. I was surprised but he convinced me he meant no harm he just wanted me to be comfortable talking to me… Then we went inside, I was scared but I didn’t want to be rude… Then he starts talking all heavily. He’s an older man almost thirty and balding with grease stains on his saggy clothes and he had a ton of anime body pillows all over the place and his top pick in netflix wa my little pony! I didn’t wanna know what was in the corner… I asked him to not sit so close, even said I had a boyfriend now… But he knew too much and got mad at me for lying, he said I owed him for listening to my whining. I cried and he begged my forgiveness… I tried to run but he chased me, he had a knife and threatened me but I didn’t wanna get raped or killed so I ran, he slashed me on the thigh so deeply that my leg went numb in a few minutes. Then I got away and drove home. My parents weren’t home and I tried to dress the wound, my seats are black and I thought it was shallower. I realized it was to the bone and then I fainted from blood loss. I guess I bled to death… So I was killed by my friend who liked to pretend to be an alien and turned out to be a “Nice Guy”... Kinda pathetic.”

“Are you gonna let him get away with murder?”

“No…”

“Go get him girl!”

“What do I do?”

“Hide his porn stash, replace his anime pillows with guy anime pillows. Subscribe him to a yaoi(guy on guy) site where pre adolescent girls write fanfiction, put hot sauce in his lube… hide his wallet, and put password encoded age restrictions on his netflix so he has to watch g rated films forever. And then scrawl in ketchup on his mirror, I am always watching you. Then leave, and he’ll be paranoid forever.”

“You are truly satan Roy.” Robin smiles devilishly.

I never saw her again, she left and I was left to clean up my life. I faced community service for my crimes however the crime was solved with my help and when the police found the man he was sitting in the dark with a circle of salt surrounding him watching my little pony with horrible burns. He was arrested and sent to an asylum by his own convictions. I assume Robin went away peacefully after doing her part, maybe she stayed and saw his arrest however I believe she just left. I attended her funeral, her mother cried, her father left the room a lot. Brian was there, I could tell his consciousness was heavy with the idea he had contributed to someone's death or been able to prevent it but not done that, he was never the same. Her so called friends Kristy and Lillian were there, her therapist, and her extended family that could drive in from california to oregon. When I went up to view the casket I saw her cold face, beautifully made up in professional makeup, honestly it was weird, I missed the face only I knew, her real face and her faded hair all curly. Her cuts were hidden with a long dress and sleeves. After the funeral her mother approached me.

“Roy?”

“Yes..?”

“Okay, funny I’ve never met you, thank you for being such a good friend to my daughter! She left you something… I was almost like she knew she was going away…” Sadly she handed me an envelope with a hastily scrawled name on the front. Robin's mother was pale and mousy, her nervous eyes reminded me of a rabbits, hopping from place to place.

Dear Roy,

Thank you for being the truest friend I’ve ever had, you never lied to me and you helped me when I needed you most! You're my hero. Good luck with Marina, make her chase you… Sorry I can’t be your best man! Thank you! Enclosed is a remembrance gift!

Inside the package was a small drawing of a boy with a roguish expression on his face and a girl laughing openly riding on a motorbike that was blue and white. They seemed suspended in time carfree. I hung it on my wall, to this day I still muse over its detail and how the pencil has not faded yet.

Robin was the best and the worst thing to happen to me. I was labeled a criminal and a hero, I became not normal but am still unsure on how to become normal or not normal. It never worked out with Marina, she was to flakey and flirty. I married a beautiful, smart nerd at the age of thirty and started a family. Life runs smoothly and I wonder how Robin is doing, heaven? Rebirth? Whatever she is doing I hope she is happy as I am.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 8. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N:  @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory thank you for reblogging! I notice every note and reblog you left me, babez! But I have a seriously hard time responding even to my own gf at the time, bcs I'm in the more depressed mood. Sorry.

Word count: 2 K 

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

The big evening finally came. Every one of you was in the backstage, listening to some stand-up comedian. He truly was hilarious.

It was simple - there was a hall full of people who had bought the tickets in pre-order. All of that money went to a charity. Then they could give more money if they wanted to the lady by the ticket station. After every show, the hall cleared out and people with tickets on the next show sat at the tables, ordered some drinks and waited for it to start. Some shows had twenty minutes, but there were other people, who had five minutes lasting shows as you were.

There were even people from the Marina present, those who were voted to take the check from Tony Stark himself as well. And they looked like they had a hella good time.

"I will sit next to you, would you mind?" - Deena said, already sitting down. You scooped a bit further to make some place for her ass. Then the both of you turned your heads to look at the guy performing. You both laughed. There was some singers, some bands, some other Charity workers - there was basically everyone. You even got a bit too excited when you saw Pepper freaking Potts sitting at the table in the back of the hall next to Happy Hogan.

Through the whole evening, you texted with Steve. You told him every of your itsy bitsy feelings and he was so kind that he has listened to you all the time. Meanwhile, girls have done your make-up and your hair, so you looked like a real lady coming straight from the forties.

May's hair was the hardest do make - she had a long, strong hair and she has a hell lot of them, which made it almost impossible to do. Yet she was now standing behind you on her high heels, looking definitely breathtaking.

Y/N: Never realizes that there will be so many people out here! I'm getting pretty nervous, handsome.

Steve: Do not freak out. It is going to be completely fine. We are here out with Bucky and Sam, pouring down some drinks. We are looking forward to your performance, girls. We truly do.

Y/N: Yeah, looking forward to seeing me killing somebody else?

Steve: Stop it. You will be great. And you will not convince me otherwise. And I will be there to see all of it.

That made you smile. Steve was the mental and emotional support to you every step you made and every breath you took, just like in that The Police song. When you felt insecure about you looking fat, Steve reminded you of how blown away he was just with the way you looked in that costume. When you thought that your make-up and your hair is too much, Steve texted back that you'll be beautiful to him no matter how much you'll put on.

He truly was trying to make every one of your little insecurities go away and he was doing a great job.

"He's somewhere out here tonight?" - Deena asked all of a sudden. She and Val took some really sultry sapphic photos before that and you were sure that they'll be used when you'll recap your whole year on the office Christmas party. They both looked sexy as hell, Deena even went so far she had shortened her skirt and wear her super push-up bra to make her cleavage more visible.

"Not at the moment, but he'll be. Yeah." - You nodded with a shy smile of a nervous girl. It was so strange, knowing that Steve will be there, checking out each of your moves with his bros.

You never showed him your face, but daily life pics became a next step between for the two of you. When you were at work, you took a simple headless selfie in the bathroom mirror, at lunch you photographed your food and you also sent him a photo of you in your PJ, doing a routine movie watching with some popcorn and Coke.

Steve, on the other hand, was a serious piece of cake. You drooled and you didn't even realize that your mouth was wet all over from your own saliva.

To say that Steve was buffed as fuck was a serious understatement. He was ripped like a Greek god. Maybe even they were nothing on his body. His usual daily selfie was a mirror one with him having a white, usually sweaty t-shirt and grey work out sweats. There was usually a bottle of water included. Sometimes he snapped a quick picture of him getting ready. Once you even felt your heart-stopping because of the sight of his collar bones and shoulders in a work out tank top.

At that moment, you were ready to call yourself some good ol' ambulance, because your eyes were drowning at that sight. He was a guy with a naturally sweet nature, so huge and ripped and yet somehow he hadn't found a girlfriend to be with. You couldn't comprehend.

Before meeting him on WhatsApp, you didn't believe in fucking miracles - but here he was and he seemed to be into you. You were hella out of your mind.

Yep. You had gotten off because of those pictures. Once or twice. But that was not your fault at all. You were a woman, someone who had their specific needs. That's just how it was. And Steve seriously was someone who even Val found seriously attractive.

Girls from the office were obsessed all over you two - sometimes, Deena and Suzie sang that you're in love and you answered that you're not. Which obviously became a really dramatic I won't say I'm in love from Hercules. But yeah. Just to be honest, you were all over the fucking place bevause of him. Which happened never ever before. And you haven't even met that man at the time. It was really fucking weird. It felt like his face isn't important to you - you knew him. That's what mattered.

"Do you think you'll be able to see him? Like a sixth sense? It would be as exciting as the end of the Titanic." - Deena sighed dreamily. You frowned at that.

"If you think that the death of basically 60% of the passengers was exciting... You do you I guess." - You answered with a strange expression on your face. 

“Hey. You have that sexy hunk just waiting for every word you want to write to him and not each of us has the opportunity to have that. Some of us just develop a simple crush on Leo DiCaprio. Did you even see that little angelic baby in that movie? Jeez.” - Deena giggled. When she started, she was deadly serious, but in the end, she was laughing. 

But she was totally clear about her crush on Leo. She even had a collection of t-shirts with Leos face on it. But she was all truthful - not everyone finds someone like you found Steve. All it took was a couple of coincidences and there you were.

“But it's nice. Men like that remind you that gentlemen are not a dead thing yet, even now.” - She leaned her shoulder into yours, smiling all happily. - “But I am a bit jealous about all of that, not gonna lie.” 

Your head slowly bobbed and you leaned your forehead into khaki green cap masterly pinned into her hair with some pinnets. She was looking all good. 

And she was right per se. Steve was truly something the others could be only possibly jealous of. And you should be really, really glad for him

And your gratefulness was the thing that made you all nervous about him being present while you do a total asshat in front of anybody else. 

The time flew past you without you barely noticing. There were two other performers in the line in front of your office, and at the next moment, May was gripping your elbow and lead you to the moral hooray before you actually went to the stage. She was probably the best motivational speaker you ever heard, those men and women with courses were nothing on May Parker.

“Okay ladies, I am sincerely proud of you for not being afraid and actually doing all of this. I can't even express how happy I am that I found so many amazing women to do something like that with me. You're all looking flawless, pretty and lovely and I know we will nail the choreography because we worked hard almost every evening for the past few months, we will nail it. And now stand up and let's kick the others their asses!” - May yelled cheerfully. Every one of you clapped, those who had the need to express themselves louder, those cheerfully blew a whistle for May. 

You feel a little confident - nothing too much harsh, nothing too big, but at least you felt positive about yourself when you took your chair and walked onto the stage.

---

“Can you feel the tension in the air? Something's coming.” - Sam nudged Bucky's side with his elbow. Bucky just gave him an ice-cold look and took his another beer from Sam's palm. 

Steve made Sam take the tickets from the lady sitting behind the counter with all highschool girl nervousness - he was able to almost kill Sam when he joked about leaving the tickets on the counter. He was super nervous, super curious, almost not able to keep the feelings contained inside. 

Their small group walked into one of the back tables with a clear view - you tried to take the best places which will be basically on the distance of a stretched arm. It was also close to the bar, which was some great news for Sam. 

“Just jokin', Mr. Grumpy. I'm kinda curious about that girl. You plan on showing us or you will keep a secret?” - Sam sat on the other side of Bucky, taking a strong swing of his beer. 

“Probably a secret. It would not be fair for you to know her face before she knows mine.” - Steve giggled and crawled deeper into his hood. He was worse than Natasha when she was on her missions, just tried to keep his identity in secret, but that was extremely hard because of how enormous he was. 

“Like if birdbrain knew what intimacy or privacy is.” - Bucky said with an ironic tone of voice which made Sam frown as hell again. 

“Well excuse me, but I know today's world more than you two will ever have the chance to. Don't try to make me angry, 'cause you can lose your biggest guide just like dat.” - Sam said with all serious face, but every one of them knew that he's shitting them. 

Y/N: Okay, it's here. Wish me luck, cross your fingers, do whatever the hell you want, but enjoy it.

A text came just short second before all the lights turned down and Steve curiously wiggled on his chair with an expression of a small child. And at that moment, a serious load of ladies in forties female formal clothes came out of the curtains with chairs in their hands. And even tho he couldn't see the shirt you had under your uniform, at that moment, he exactly knew which one of them is you.