#they don’t hit until number 20

[poguesmaybank]

My top two albums have no songs in my top ten songs.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x babysitter!f!Reader

Summary: Your dad's friend needs your babysitting services for the night. What will you do to help him out when his date goes in the wrong direction?

Warnings: MDNI, babysitter!Reader, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Handjob, Vaginal Sex, Squirting, Degrading, Praising, Slight Dumbification, Creampie, Age Gap (Reader in 20s, Toji in 30s), Reader's Parents and Toji are friends, Cute baby Megumi is adorable

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Mr. Fushiguro.” Your brows furrow at the name of the man who solicited your babysitting services. You started off babysitting for your parents’ neighbors and they spread the word around, and as a broke college student who refuses to get a real job, you appreciate every time someone calls that they need someone to watch their kids for the night. You usually don’t know the person who calls, they believe you’re amazing simply by what your parents’ neighbors said, but this time the name looks familiar. You repeat the name a couple of times, yet a face isn’t coming up.

You knock on the door, and patiently wait. You have no problem waiting for almost five minutes because you keep trying to put a face to the name. Until Mr. Fushiguro finally opens the door, and you’re met with his bare chest which causes your face to get warm. You look up at the man, and it immediately hits you, you weren’t recommended by your neighbors, the man that stands in front of you is a friend of your parents. Toji Fushiguro. You smile at him, trying your best to not look back down at his well toned torso.

“You’re here early.” Toji comments, and you grab your phone from your purse to look at the time. You’re not early, on the contrary, you’re five minutes late. You end up not saying anything because you’re obviously not going to point out that you’re late to your gig.

“It’s so nice to see you.” Your voice sounds awkward as you speak. You’ve maybe met Toji a handful of times before. He became acquainted with your parents after you left for college so you don’t really know him. You’ve seen him a couple of holidays since apparently he doesn’t have a big family so he takes up your parents offer of coming over for the holidays. Your conversations with him have always been… dry, therefore you don’t have much of a bond. You have no idea how to greet him.

He leans on the doorframe, and you try to look into his eyes but it’s hard when he’s shirtless in front of you. You wait for him to move out of the way to enter the house, but he’s staring you down. He frowns, his eyes glued to your bare legs and he asks, “Is that appropriate attire for babysitting?”

“What?” You look down at your skirt and then at your legs. You end up rolling your eyes, biting your tongue to not say anything that you might regret. You look down at his chest and the sweatpants that hang dangerously low before you tilt your head to the side. There’s a smirk on your face when you look back up at him, “Is that appropriate attire to greet your babysitter?”

He snickers before getting out of the way and inviting you into the home. You take off your shoes and look around the place. You find his son running after a dog, and you try not to laugh as you watch Megumi aimlessly run after a dog that’s way faster than he is. You almost trip on a toy since you’re not really watching where you’re going, and the man that notices chuckles. He guides you to the living room and when you’re no longer moving, he finds himself completely clueless on what to say.

You’re staring at him, waiting for him to speak first. But he doesn’t so you take it upon yourself. “So… Where are you going?”

“I have a date and what not. I got the number from your dad since I told him I needed a babysitter.” He says, and you slowly nod in response. You didn’t need that second part, but it’s nice to know that he asked your father and he didn’t randomly get your number. “I have to get ready for my date.”

“Yeah… Before you go though, do you have–” You begin but he cuts you off.

“I have a list with Megumi’s schedule. He’s not allergic to anything but he is picky. Just make some mac ‘n’ cheese. You’ll be good.” Toji tells you and it’s as if he’s read your mind. You mutter a thank you before he yells, “Megumi, come here! Say hi to your babysitter.”

The four-year-old comes running your way, and he pants when he’s right in front of you. He’s sweaty after chasing the dog. He recognizes you and he greets you by using your name. 

“So nice to see you again, Megumi.” 

Toji leaves you two to interact while he finishes getting ready.

Megumi has to be the cutest child that you’ve ever babysat. He’s shy at first but when he warms up to you he becomes clingy. You find yourself playing a match of Uno, a card game that he doesn’t quite grasp the concept of. But he’s trying his best. Although you’ve explained the point that the game is to get rid of your cards, he keeps grabbing cards when he can put so many that are in his hands, down. 

“Am I winning?” He asks, even though he’s far from it. You end up nodding in response, watching as a yawn escapes his little lips. You grab your phone to look at the time, and see it’s almost his bedtime. You ruffle his hair before telling him,

“You won, buddy. It’s time for you to go to bed now.” You watch him put down the fifteen cards in his hands, and get up from the couch. You walk him to his bedroom, pick out some pajamas for him, and he proceeds to go to the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

You put him to bed with no problem, and now your only task is waiting for Toji to get home. You turn on the television and try to find something to watch, and when you find something interesting enough to watch, you lay down on your side on the couch and focus on the screen in front of you. You assume you’ll be here for a while, so you get comfortable. You lose track of time and don’t pay attention to anything but the screen in front of you, which is why your heart is in your throat when you feel a pair of large hands lift up your legs.

Luckily for you, it’s just Toji, lifting your legs and putting them over his lap when he takes a seat. He throws his head back, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. You get your legs off his lap and properly sit down on the couch, feeling your face warm as you look at the man. He looks tired to say the least, and while you don’t usually ask this question, you feel inclined to ask, “How was your date?”

“I could not stand her voice, and for the life of me she has to be the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.” He puts his hands over his face, and he exhales. This is truly one of the worst dates he’s ever been on. Just when he puts himself out there again he meets the most irritating woman. “She wasn’t even that hot either. When she opened her mouth, all attraction went out the door.”

“She couldn’t have been that bad.” You respond with a low chuckle. You laugh even more when he rolls his eyes.

“I’m never going out on a date again.” He replies. Toji isn’t afraid of oversharing, at least not when it’s only the two of you there. He doesn’t know you all that well either but he still says, “Worst of all, I didn’t get laid.”

“I mean, you could’ve still fucked her. Just block out her voice.” You tell him, and his brows raise. He chuckles before he reveals to you,

“Yeah, she wouldn’t have wanted to. I couldn’t control the look of disdain on my face.” Which makes you laugh. You bite down your lip looking him up and down. He looks handsome.

“If I were her–” You feel bold but your confidence goes away in an instant, just as you open your mouth. There’s a smirk on his face, and he leans your way. He licks his lips, and you sense that you’ve made a mistake.

“If you were her then?” He invites you to continue your sentence, but you shake your head. You try to play it off with a sweet smile, but that’s not enough for Toji. He’s about to say something obscene, but he bites his tongue. He ends up chuckling before he confesses, “Oh, your dad would kill me for what I was about to say.”

“Oh? What were you going to say?” Your curiosity rises and you aren’t going to back down now. You’re the one that leans in now, and your faces are mere inches away from touching. He has a cocky look all over his face, and you hate to admit that you love seeing it. “My dad isn’t here. You can tell anything you want to his adult daughter.”

“You’re still a little girl in his eyes, he would kill me.” He comments while you grab his hand and you put it on your bare thigh. Your other hand goes up his chest and lands behind his shoulder, creeping toward his nape. You make sure to lower your voice.

“You’re not him nor is he here. You can tell me just about anything.” He moves his hand up your thigh and under your skirt. You feel his fingers hook under your panties and he finally says,

“How about I just show you.” His lips land on yours, and your mouth opens to let his tongue in. You feel his finger toy with your panties, while your hand goes to his lap. His tongue presses against yours while his fingers begin to play with your clothed cunt. You weren’t expecting that your night babysitting would end up like this– Or maybe you did since you were greeted by a shirtless Toji. Either way, you don’t mind it.

He pushes your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds before they begin to toy with your clit. Your hand begins to palm his erection that feels so uncomfortable in his pants. When he gets his fingers wet enough with your slick, he pushes two inside your warm cunt which causes you to moan into the kiss. 

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” You breathlessly comment when you pull away from the kiss, a sudden wave of consciousness hitting you. But it’s not stopping either of you because it feels so good. You rebuke your statement by kissing him again. Your hands unbuckle his belt and get his cock out. Your eyes glance at it, and they widen at the sight of how big it is. That has to be the biggest cock you’ve seen. 

You pull away from the kiss and spit on his cock a couple of times before your hand wraps around it and you begin to stroke it. You feel as his thumb begins to play with your clit, and you use your other hand to cover your mouth. Toji can’t help but say, “You’re loving this… Oh you’re such a little slut.”

You end up humming in response as he curls his fingers. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, feeling so good while he moves his thick fingers in and out of you. He’s right, you are a fucking slut because you’ve been thinking about a similar scenario the moment you saw him shirtless.

“You came wearing a skirt so I could do this, didn’t you?” He asks, and you’re tightening around his fingers as pressure builds up in your lower abdomen. Your hand lazily strokes his cock, and you’re doing such an awful job which almost annoys Toji but he knows you have much bigger things on your plate– Rather, inside of it. You’re shutting your legs, and he forces you to spread them. “Don’t act shy now.”

“It’s so good.” You remove your hand from your mouth to tell him that.

“I know, baby.” He responds, and just as you’re about to come, he takes his fingers out. A whine leaves your lips. “C’here.”

You move your legs up, hovering above him on the couch, your back to him. He licks his hand before he grabs his cock and runs it through your folds. He slowly pushes his cock in, and it feels even bigger while inside you. You have to slap your hand over your mouth while he bottoms out.

“You got a tight little cunt–” He groans, his voice low, mindful that you aren’t home alone. Toji has never been more glad that a date didn’t work out because otherwise he wouldn’t be fucking the cute little babysitter. You feel so nice and warm around him… This is truly the best way to end his night– Only problem is that he can’t tell a single soul about this. “Fuck…”

You begin to bounce on him, moving slowly. Toji’s hand goes under your shirt and bra, his fingers pinching your nipple. His other hand begins to play with your clit, and it’s all so much for you to handle. Toji’s lips kiss your neck before they go to your ear and he whispers, “You like that, baby? You like my dick?”

You really can’t say anything but moan. You feel the orgasm that was stripped from you, build up once again. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head and he asks, “Aren’t you gonna answer? Or are you too dumb to answer?”

He takes control for you, thrusting in and out of you at a much faster pace than the one that you have set. His cock hits every right spot, and it’s too much for your poor little pussy to handle. Your hand goes over your mouth again because you’re getting louder and louder with every thrust. “You like it, pretty girl?”

“You’re such a dumb girl, can’t even answer a simple question.” Your cunt is tightening around him, getting so close to your climax. When you finally come, and you make the biggest mess by squirting all over him and the living room. It causes Toji to grin, his hand slapping your cunt while saying, “You’re so fucking messy. You’re such a good girl.”

Toji’s thrusts keep picking up speed as his peak approaches. Your pussy feels so nice and tight around him, and he’s so fucking glad that he didn’t just toss you the money and dismiss you. He just wishes that instead of going to that dumb date he would’ve stayed with you and fucked you over and over again. 

“Good girls like you need some sort of reward.” He begins, and the words don’t register in your mind. He was thinking of pulling out at the beginning of this, but he can’t let you leave without coming inside of you. “You want my cum, pretty girl?”

“Please!” You almost yell. It doesn’t take too long for his warm cum to fill you up, and you love the feeling of it. He leaves you on top while his cock softens, and he peppers your neck with kisses. After a while he speaks up.

“You can’t tell a single soul about this.” He reminds you, and you laugh.

“I should be the one telling you that. I’d never hear the end of it.” You respond.

“I also need your services next week.” He brings up, and your brows raise, turning to look at him.

“Another date?”

“Not the babysitting service.”

[brotherblaze]

the big freeze — jason todd

summary: Jason appears at your door in the middle of the night. Who are you to turn him away?

cw: implied claustrophobia

wc: 1,5k

note: you ever get stuck in an elevator and realize 'oh this is a closed metal box hanging in the air on the 13th floor' and then it takes the combined efforts of 3 people on different floors to get you out bc the wrong elevator keeps opening?

The TV switches to a commercial break featuring an ad for a late night hotline just as your phone buzzes. You reach for the remote to mute it and bring your phone to your ear. No sane person calls you at this hour. Which only leaves…

“Yes?”

“Can you…” there’s a pause on Jason’s end, and you use the moment to glance at the time. 1:38 AM. Yeah, not a sane time, arguably not a completely sane person, if judging by what his family gets up to back in Gotham. “I’m downstairs.”

“I gave you a keycard and the code for the security system.”

He sighs and the sound rattles in your ear. “I know, I—I’ve been waiting for someone to come by for like 20 minutes.”

“Well, in their defense, it’s way past 1AM.” You slide your feet into your slippers and stand, turning the TV off as you go. “Normal people are usually asleep at these times. On Tuesdays, no less.”

“Yeah? And what’s your excuse?”

“I’m an occasional insomniac.” You press the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you grab the black sweater draped over the back of your couch.

Still, the hallway is cold, all exposed brick and bright overhead lights. The chill bites at your cheeks and invades through the soft wool of your sweater. Jason’s sweater? It’s hard to tell anymore; so many of his things are at your place and so many of your things are at his place. The elevator arrives with a quiet ding. Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step inside, avoiding the large wet patch on the red carpet.

You don’t let the call drop, but neither of you are speaking anymore, either. The numbers on the small screen on the elevator wall count down.

Jason is standing by the large automatic doors at the entrance of the building. He has his leather jacket slung over his arm. You can faintly make out droplets from the rain still clinging to the surface of the leather. There—just as he spots you—a smile blooms on his face, almost boyish, as he cuts across the empty foyer in long, near-silent footsteps. He wraps his arms around your waist, presses his face into the crook of your neck. His hair is damp and you feel the water slide under your collar. The tip of his nose is cold, resting over your pulse. His wet jacket presses against your side, soaking your sweater.

Instead of the chill from the fall rain, there’s a steady warmth simmering beneath Jason’s skin. It spurs from his chest and spreads to his extremities, arms wound tightly around your body, to his fingertips pressing under your sweater and into your skin.

You nearly yelp at how cold his fingers are.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“We gotta take two steps to the left — my left,” you clarify. Jason does not unwind himself from around you, but he does take a step to the side and then another until you can reach the elevator keypad. You tap your keycard against the sensor and hit the button for your floor. The elevator doors drag closed and it begins its ascent.

Jason’s pulse jumps and his grip around you tightens. You don’t say anything, don’t pry him off or tell him to get his shit together—instead, you place a hand on the back of his head, curl the rain-damp strands of hair around your fingers. Jason’s lips part involuntarily in a silent sigh.

“Need a haircut, eh, bub?”

He chuckles, barely audible over the jingle playing from the elevator speakers. “What if I buzz it all off? Military style.”

You make a disgusted sound in the back of your throat.

The elevator slides to a stop, the lock mechanism clicks into place, and the doors open.

“We’re here,” you say, voice soft and light.

Jason takes a long breath in, inhaling your strawberry-scented body lotion. He’s the one that got it for you as one of your many gifts last Christmas (thank you, Babs, for being his sniff-tester) and it makes him giddy to know you still use it. He untangles himself from you, not fully, though, and guides you towards your apartment, an arm around your waist.

He toes off his boots and hangs his jacket in its usual place as you re-arm the security system.

“You should really start arming that thing even if you go down for pizza or something,” he says and bends over to pick up the black ball of fur rubbing against his leg. “Hi, hi, hi, yes, hi to you, too,” he tells your cat, nuzzling his face into her fur. He looks up at you, raises a brow when you open your mouth to say ‘this is Metropolis, nothing bad happens here,’ because you’ve had this exchange twice now. “Just saying, if I was 9 again and I knew someone left their apartment full of stuff you could easily pawn unlocked…”

You sigh. “Okay. I’ll remember to do that.” 

Because for Jason, it isn’t about the things in your apartment, not really.

“Thank you.”

You retreat into your bedroom and Jason carries your cat around like she’s a baby as he laps around your apartment. He stops at the tall windows in the living room and starts pointing out Metropolis landmarks as if said cat hasn’t been living in Metropolis longer than he has.

When you return, a pair of gray sweatpants and one of his shirts in hand, he’s telling your cat about how ‘Aunt Lois deserved that Pulitzer prize so much more than uncle Clark’. 

“Sorry if I’m interrupting something…”

“Oh, no, no, just reinstating how Clark got a Pulitzer before Lois even though she’s a much better writer than he is.”

“Right.” You hold out the change of clothes to him. “I got you a new toothbrush; the other one was getting old.”

“Thank you.” Jason accepts the change of clothes and beelines it towards the bathroom to change, your cat still in his arms.

Once he emerges (after quite loudly announcing to your cat how one should brush their teeth), his damp clothes left in the dryer to run first thing in the morning, you’re already nestled between the sheets. There’s an extra pillow and duvet spread out next to you. Jason releases your cat, who skitters to her bed on the windowsill to watch the rain droplets race down the glass, and climbs into bed, pats his pillow until it’s of satisfactory height.

You turn off the bedside lamp on your nightstand, turn on the cat-shaped nightlight and shimmy between the sheets. Then you pause, grab your phone and unlock it.

Jason’s eyes roam your face, the curve of your nose and lips, the heaviness in your tired eyes as you slowly blink at your phone screen. He’s made an effort to commit your features to his memory so he can see your face every time he closes his eyes. So he can keep you with him everywhere. Always. So, once again, he takes his time, going over every one of your features until you lock your phone and place it back on the nightstand.

“I love you,” he says, low and soft, though with all the clarity he can inject into his words.

You stare at him for a moment, then pull your duvet up to your chin, rest your head on your pillow and close your eyes. “I love you, too.”

“Forever.”

“Forever is such a vague concept,” you tell him with a scrunch in your brow. He can barely make it out in the dim red glow of the bedroom but he knows it's there. “Until the end of the universe. And even then you’ll be stuck with me. Like glitter.”

“Yeah? When’s that?”

“We’ll reincarnate an infinite amount of times between now and then,” you say with the certainty of someone who’s gazed far into the future, gazed at the very death of the universe itself. Maybe you have. Maybe you’re a meta—a true meta—unlike him, something that crawled out of his grave in Gotham.

Jason blinks, allows your statement to settle into the marrow of his bones, into his very being. His blood thrums in his veins. He balls his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “I don’t know; sounds a lot like forever.”

You make a sound at the back of your throat again. It is not a sound of displeasure, nor a sound of agreement, either. “Again; vague. The eventual death of the universe is all but guaranteed; it’ll expand too much and become too cold to inhabit. Probably. There’s like… six different big theories on how the universe will end. Take your pick.”

“But we’ll find each other every time.” It is not a question. Still, you nod.

“Yes. Every lifetime.”

“Promise?”

You open your eyes, take him in—you can barely make out his features in the dark but you can—the mass of dark hair splayed out across his (your) pillow, the curve of his nose and that of his cupid’s bow, the almost milky whiteness of his eyes. This is where your heart has settled. This is home.

“I promise.”

part 2

dividers by @/cafekitsune

[gracieheartspedro]

Your Needs, My Needs

THE PRELUDE

a masterlist of how you can help gaza

pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)

description: you have made it to your new home in taylor, texas. your anxiety of owning your our home and being alone is coming to a head, but you need to be productive. a trip to the local furniture turns into you meeting some locals and your new cowboy neighbor.

word count: 3.7k words

warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, description of small age gap, joel being a sarcastic shithead. sarah is canon, so joel is a dad. distracted driving. talks of consuming food. reader has mental illness, mainly described as anxiety, but could be other illnesses. I make it pretty vague. the reader likes football? lmfao

author's note: this is the prelude to the many parts I have planned for these two. this is sort of just setting up everything. I want a slow burn for these two, so hopefully these first couple parts make you guys sweat with anticipation. I also wanna quickly thank all of you for the love on the preview of this fic. I hope you all enjoy it! let me know what y'all think. YEEHAW!

“Sign here and she’s all yours.”

When you brought the pen to the dotted line, you knew that this was going to be the start of your new life. 

While you were nervous about taking on such a huge project, you were ready to find solace in your alone time and work on yourself along with the beautiful farmhouse. You needed some peace and quiet, anyway. 

She was set on 20 acres of land on the outskirts of a small town called Taylor. The land looked like something out of a movie, it’s rolling hills and sprawling fields. 

The house was about 130 years old and needed a lot of TLC. You found it online after hours of scrolling. It was still liveable, but the older couple who owned it before moved to a retirement community and could not keep up with the maintenance. When the inheritance hit your bank account, you called the local realtor and told them you would be flying out there to check it out. When the car pulled up the long driveway, you knew that it would be yours. 

Texas was a new start for you. And boy, were you ready for it. 

You did not have a lot to move in, just a small UHaul full of boxes of clothes and miscellaneous trinkets. You left your furniture in your shared apartment in New York. You needed to find something that was more your style, anyway. 

You moved everything yourself. You were not sure you were ready to trust anyone to help you move in. You knew no one locally, anyway.

It took about three days to get settled, and by that, you simply put up a shower curtain and finally put sheets on your mattress on the floor. You had also created a laundry list of random things you wanted to get done around the house in the next month. Priority number one was getting the bathrooms working. The toilet downstairs doesn’t stop running and your upstairs one won’t flush at all. 

You decided that today was the day you would go out and buy some furniture for your living room and bedroom. You would also inquire to some locals about a plumber. It would take you days to work up the courage to reach out to someone in the phone book, so here’s to hoping you just run into someone on the street. 

You hop into the sedan that you were renting until you could buy a car. It was nice but it was no match for your long dirt driveway. You already expected to pay extra for all the dings on the exterior. 

The roads that lead into Main Street are long and winding. You loved driving, so when it was nice enough to put the windows down, you did so. 

Since there’s no one on this specific stretch, you decide to switch the CD you had shoved into the disc drive, opting for another mix you had made years ago. The radio never played what you wanted, especially the local stations in Taylor. 

In your distracted scramble for the CD, you don’t take note of the large stallion running next to your car. The CD is wedged between the seat and the main console and your fingers cannot reach the awkward position. 

You’re not speeding. But when a giant horse runs out in front of you, you can not hit the break quickly enough. You stop breathing, bracing for impact. You jerk the wheel slightly, swerving away from the steed.  Before your front end can make an impact, the horse is snatched back towards the divot in the road. 

You are in complete and utter shock over how abruptly it all happened. 

Your eye eventually catches a man on horseback, his cowboy hat shields most of his face, but you are more focused on how built this man looks. His biceps were straining against his button-up shirt as he held the lasso taut against his chest. His legs were locked around the brown stallion he was on, his jeans riddled with mud and dust. He had dark curls that peaked out from under his hat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” You yell, your car slowly inching forward from its spot in the middle of the road, “Where did that thing even come from?”

The mysterious cowboy just shakes his head and trots away, clicking his tongue to guide the horse back into the field. 

Your heart felt like it may leap out of your chest. A car was chugging down the road ahead of you, so you knew you had to move out of the way. You turn into your lane and slowly start down the road again.

You do not even bother trying to find the CD, again. You would rather sit in complete silence. 

-

When you make it to the small stretch of downtown, your heart rate slows down. You spot a local furniture store that looks a bit dated. It was your best bet plus, you wanted to stand on solid ground and gain your bearings. 

You parallel park rather terribly and hop out of your car. You huff loudly, throwing your purse over your shoulder and slamming the door behind you. 

A hot cowboy saved your life. 

It’s the most Texas thing that’s happened to you since you moved here. 

You head inside the storefront. A smaller white-haired lady sits at the front desk, her head in a gossip magazine. 

“Well, hello there,” You muster in your best cheery voice, trying to act like you did not almost die, “I’m lookin’ for some furniture.”

She chuckles as she places her reading next to the register, “Well, you came to the right place, sweetheart.”

You return the laugh, glancing around the large store. Couches and recliners in rows in the front, wooden bed sets lining the back wall. You were so indecisive, you were not completely sure where to start. 

“I need a bedroom set and a couch or two. I just moved into th-”

“The old Caldwell farmhouse,” She cuts you off, hopping off her stool, “Saw you movin’ in a couple days ago. My boy is your neighbor.”

The joke about small towns is always true, you know that already. Everyone knows everyone else’s business. You could not shit without someone knowing about it. 

You raise your eyebrows, acting like you’re shocked she knows about you already. “Yes, that’s right. Your boy?”

“My oldest son, Joel. He lives across the way from ya,” She starts gesturing towards the couches, “Pop a squat on one and see which one ya like.”

You end up sitting on every couch before landing on a brown leather one with a matching loveseat. The old woman is a great saleswoman on top of being sickly sweet. She told you since you are one of her first customers of the month, she would give you a great discount on a coffee table. You were a sucker for a good deal. 

You knew what bed set you wanted immediately. It was a light-washed wood with tall pillars sticking out of every corner. It came with two matching dressers and one nightstand. It was only you, so you didn’t quite care about another side table anyway. 

When the lady starts tallying up your total, you watch the slow-moving downtown. A couple walking across the street into the small diner. An older gentleman walking his small dog. The rickety old trucks that loudly took up the roads. 

You’re so stuck in your head, you don’t even hear what your total is. All you do is hand over your credit card. She smiles and giggles as she swipes the card. 

“So I’ll have my boy deliver it to you tomorrow. He is busy workin’ today, but I’ll have him get it to you. He’s quite the handyman, always busy doing jobs around town. Will you be home in the morning?”

You would have to have some strange man in your home to set up the heavy wooden furniture. It made the hairs on your arm stand up. You knew you would not be able to haul it all, so you had to take the leap of faith and hope and pray this frail old lady’s son is not a serial killer. Or stalker. Or both. 

You needed your furniture, after all. 

It will be okay, you tell yourself. 

“U-uh, I will,” You swallow, “I don’t work right now, so I’ll be home all day.”

“Oh, goody! I will send him your way in the morning. He may have his brother with him just to get the bed up your stairs, but I promise they are good boys. If they aren’t, you come to me and their mama will deal with them.”

You laugh nervously, “Of course, thank you so much.”

–

You had woken up late, your anxiety creeping up on you last night. Your brain would not stop racing. You didn’t fall asleep until 2 am. You hop out of bed around 10:30 and wrap yourself in a cardigan. You have been leaving all the windows open at night, but you can tell the seasons are shifting because it gets so cold at night. 

The doorbell rings and it’s like your heart falls out of your chest. You know that after you open this door, you’re welcoming in someone completely new and unexpected and it makes your whole body jitter. You make your way to the front door and take a deep breath before opening it. 

Of course. It’s him. The hot cowboy. 

It made sense. The endless green across from your home had to be part of his property. The road you almost died on yesterday was right beside his land. His house was tucked right across from the end of your driveway, with countless barns spread across a couple of acres.

You were secretly hoping he would be some silly-looking hillbilly, but instead, you find out your delivery man is the ridiculously attractive cowboy from the day before. His hair is tidy and dark without the cowboy hat on. It’s peppered with some white hairs, but it only adds to his appearance. His flannel has the top three buttons undone and his jeans are stained with age. You are finally able to get a good look at his face with no shadows covering his permanent scowl. 

He had to be about 10 years older than you. You were not too far off from wrinkles, but you were still young enough to bear children without being considered geriatric. 

He squints at you when you swing the door open. The sun is hitting his eyes, highlighting the warm rich brown color. 

“Howdy neighbor,” He greets, a small smirk plays on his lips, “’m Joel. Nice to meet you officially.”

You introduce yourself, trying not to stutter as you say your name. He made you nervous. You chalk it up to just being nervous around men in general. But it’s the way his eyes trailed you as you moved just slightly.

You feel the need to clear the air because of the way he’s staring through you. 

“And uh, listen, about yesterday,” You try to apologize, but he cuts you off by raising his hand. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time an outsider got themselves hurt bein’ reckless down the backroads. Just glad you didn’t hit my horse.”

The response has a bit of a bite to it. You back up a step, your body also taken aback by his directness. You are used to confrontational people, but you’re not used to Southern folk being that way. 

“No, next time I’ll aim for the ditch and tell my insurance that there was a silly cowboy in the road that I had to miss.”

You can tell by the sheepish smile on his face that he was not expecting you to be feisty.

“Don’t think they’d give ya’ much money for that,” He says in a hushed but matter-of-fact tone.

You relax your shoulders, trying to collect yourself. “Probably not.” 

He turns back to his truck that has your bed frame in the back of it, disregarding the previous statements. “My brother is comin’ by in a few to help me get this stuff in.”

“Well, let’s not let all the air out of the house right now,” You extend the door wider for him. You are giving this man full access to your home now. You try to suppress your obsessive thoughts and instead decide that you know exactly what you can have him do while you wait. You remember his mom told you he was good with his hands, and since he wants to be snarky to you in the comfort of your own home, you would try to pick his mind about some of your home projects. “Come in, let me ask you something.” 

You begin, gesturing him into the entryway. He accepts the offer, kicking his boots off on the porch. You appreciate his thoughtfulness and for a second, you realize you may be the asshole. 

“Mama told you I was a handyman, didn’t she?”

You giggle, finding it funny that he could read the situation you were about to put him in. “She sure did.”

“She needs to stop tellin’ folks that,” His accent is so thick and syrupy, that it makes your insides tingle, “Got too many people askin’ me to fix their stuff.”

You guide him to the bathroom right off the living room and kitchen, “You know much about plumbing?”

“I’m assumin’ you don’t,” He mutters, “What do you have goin’ on?”

You point to the loudly running toilet, “This thing won’t stop running no matter what I do.”

“Well, what have you tried doin’?”

You both stand in the hallway, you looking up at him with furrowed brows, him looking down at you with anticipation. He was quick-witted, and you started to hate how much you liked it. He gave your sassiness a run for it’s money.

“I’ve flushed it a bunch of times. Cursed at it and kicked it,” He stares at you blankly. It makes your stomach roll, “Jesus, Cowboy, can you give a girl a break?”

He enters the narrow bathroom, approaching the toilet like there may be a bomb in it. He reaches towards the handle and jiggles it violently, which makes you giggle a bit. That’s exactly what you did. 

“So, why here?” He questions, squatting in front of the bowl. He continues to mess with the handle while you process his no-context question.

“What Texas or this bathroom?”

He chuckles, his smile spreading across his beautifully tanned skin. 

“You got tons of jokes, huh?” 

You don’t respond, just shrug your shoulders. He stands up, wiggling the top of the tank off the toilet. You watch his hands lock onto the sides of it, ensuring it will not drop off and shatter on the dated tile. 

“Texas,” He strains, freeing his left hand to mess with the handle. You lean against the door frame. 

You are not even sure why Texas. You just needed to get as far as you could away from New York. You did not want your past to catch up with you, and you did not want to get stuck in a city again. But you could not share all this with a random stranger. He may be in your house, looking at your commode, but you can’t completely trust him yet. 

“I just wanted a change of scenery. I always wanted a farmhouse.”

“Lots of upkeep,” He jabs, doing one more once over of the tank, “‘M thinking you may need a new float or chain. I can get my tools tomorrow and come over to fix it. May need to order a new part, though.”

You push off the wall, arms still crossed over your front. He puts the top back on and finally makes eye contact with you. 

He would come over again? To fix your toilet? 

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m sure it’s the chain or float.”

“No, I m-mean,” You start to stumble over your words. You swallow, collecting yourself for a moment so you do not look crazy to him. “Are you sure you’re okay coming back over?”

He gives you a thin-lipped smile, “What are neighbors for?”

-

His brother arrives in a rickety old truck at about 15 past 11. He looks a lot like him, but shorter. He has those same eyes though, permanently tired. 

“Nice to meet ya, ma’am. ‘M Tommy.”

You grab his hand to shake it and he lingers a bit longer than you anticipated. Joel stayed on your front porch, putting his boots back on to start unloading the furniture. 

You are thankful the weather was kind today, especially since every evening this week has been stormy. The sun was beating mighty hard on the men as they collaborated on getting your furniture inside.

While they get everything set up, you busy yourself making lunch. You get the bright idea to make them each a sandwich. It’s the least you could do. 

You pile the cold-cut turkey and cheese onto the white bread you had, topping it with some mayo. When you hear their footsteps trailing down the stairs, you race out with the sandwiches on a porcelain plate.

“For your troubles,” You say before standing in their path to the door. Tommy smiles brightly, instantly snatching a sandwich from the plate. 

“Thanks, darlin’,” He takes a big bite, humming in satisfaction. He walks around you, leaving you standing in front of Joel. His eyes are piercing, his lips ajar a bit, but nothing is coming out. 

“Turkey and cheese, I promise.”

He reaches out grabbing the sandwich from you, “No sweet tea to go with it?”

Your heart sinks, instantly becoming self-conscious of your decision to be nice to these hicks. He was so intimidating with his steely expressions and broad shoulders. There was an essence about him that did not speak to his stone-cold exterior. It was more gentle. But you could only see hints of it when he smiled. 

He can tell the wheels in your head are spinning. Before you can speak, takes a bite of the sandwich and shakes his head. 

“‘m kidding, Yankee. Thank you, I ‘preciate it.”

You settle for letting out a long sigh and returning to your kitchen. You spend a couple of minutes, putting back all the ingredients in their proper places. 

You hear Tommy yell for Joel, his voice kind of panicked. You race out the front door and see Tommy balancing your coffee table off the side of the truck. Joel is running to his aid, the dust from your driveway kicking up behind him. You hold your breath watching Joel help him balance the wooden piece of furniture. 

“Can’t have you breakin’ your back before homecoming,” Joel fusses, guiding the legs of the table to the ground, “You know damn well Maria would have me, too.”

“Yeah, what’s a homecoming game without the head coach?”

You perk up, instantly becoming interested in the conversation that you weren’t supposed to be listening in on. The two men lift the table and start heading your way, right on the threshold. 

“You coach football?” You ask Tommy, trying not to show your excitement. You loved football, it reminded you of Sundays with your grandfather. You never got the privilege to go to an actual game, even in high school. 

“Yes, ma’am, for the local high school in Taylor. We are gonna make it to the state championships this year.” 

You glance at Joel when he says it. He rolls his eyes, “Gotta win at least one game to do that, Tommy.”

They place the coffee table right in front of your new leather couch. Tommy grunts, trying not to argue with his brother in front of a strange lady. 

He can’t help himself, though. He instantly snaps back at Joel.

“You know them boys have been practicin’ day in and day out. Why ya gotta be so negative?”

Joel places his hands on his hips, “Cause Sarah told me the guys in her grade are a bunch of dummies. I highly doubt they are ready to kick Georgetown’s asses.”

Tommy starts towards the door, “Just cause Sarah says it, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

“I believe my honor student daughter before I believe my dumbass little brother.”

You are not shocked Joel has a daughter. You are just shocked that she’s in high school. He looked too young to have a teen, but then again, he did have some grays sprouting. You cross your arms over your chest, watching Joel scoot the table across your hardwoods. 

You’re staring at his hands, trying to conjure up a wedding ring on his left finger. But there’s nothing. Maybe he did not wear it when he was working. Maybe he just forgot to put it on this morning. Maybe his passive aggressiveness towards you was simply to ensure there was distance between you and him, giving you subtle hints that he was taken. 

He finally glances up at you, stopping in his tracks when he notes your gaze. 

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You have no clue what to say because you are so trapped in your head about him. He’s a stranger, god damn it.

“N-no, everything is okay.”

“Don’t look it.”

“I just was not expecting the coffee table to look so dark against the hardwood,” you lie, pulling whatever you could think of out of your hat, “Doesn’t it look dark?”

Joel looks between the floor and the table, shifting in his stance, “Don’t know bout that.” 

“O-oh okay.”

“Alright, well we got ya all set up now,” He starts to head towards the entryway. You trail behind him like a lost puppy, “I’ll be by sometime tomorrow with that part for the toilet. I’m expectin’ another sandwich for that one.”

You grab your front door as you wave to Tommy as he heads for his truck. He smiles and gives you a head nod. Joel turns back to you, his ears perked up for a sarcastic jab from you.

  You think back to something he said to you earlier. You crack a smile, “What are neighbors for?”

PART 1 COMING SOON!

taglist (ppl who asked to be tagged): @joeldjarin @taylorsmakingfuckingmacandcheese @mysaviorjoelmiller @brittmb115 @missladym1981 @jasminedragoon

[wheneverfeasible]

When Steve’s parents announced their divorce, Steve told Eddie he loved him. They weren’t dating at the time, though Steve thought that the feeling was mutual to at least some extent since Eddie always flirted back with him, but he hadn’t been certain.

He had known his parents stopped loving each other years ago. Hell, he didn’t know if they had ever truly loved each other, but in any case, Steve knew.

His parents decided to sell the house, to move away from Hawkins with its cursed misfortune and small town gossip, and there was no talk of either of them taking Steve with them. Which, sure, he was grown, he hadn’t been part of the conversation at all.

Steve was left at a crossroads on what to do. So, distraught at his change in circumstances, he’d gone straight to Eddie’s and confessed his feelings because he had to know if it was at all possible for anyone to want him the way he wanted them.

Luckily enough for Steve, Eddie did!

The Munsons still had a decent amount left over from the government hush money after everything, so Eddie took his share (Wayne tried to get him to take more since all Wayne had lost was physical possessions and the trailer while Eddie almost lost his life, but Eddie would only agree to a 50/50 split) and together he and Steve threw caution to the wind and found a small place to rent together in one of the new complexes being built as part of the town’s rejuvenation project.

Things were going great. They still visited Wayne, who could now stop working such long hours at the plant and who had moved to a small fixer upper on the outskirts of town. He even moved up the ladder at the plant after some of the higher ups were lost in the “earthquakes” (R.I.P.), which offered better pay and benefits.

Wayne even started dating again, which Eddie informed Steve of in such a scandalized tone, but Steve could tell that Eddie was happy for his uncle, ribbing the older man when they had stopped by one morning and the man hadn’t even been home, stumbling back an hour later with lipstick stains on his shirt’s collar.

(Wayne had told him that he was going to call the cops on them for breaking and entering while he was gone, but there was no heat in it as they set chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and a steaming cup of coffee before him, having made use of the kitchen while he was out.)

Wayne never introduced any of the women he dated to Eddie and Steve, saying that it wasn’t proper to introduce anyone to the kids yet until he was certain that things were serious, never mind that the “kids” were well into their 20s now.

(Steve also felt a warmth at being included as a “kid” of Wayne’s, however, filling a hole in his heart that his parents had left behind, though his mother had recently reached out to him to rekindle their relationship. His father remained radio silent.)

Eventually, however, there was someone Wayne kept seeing repeatedly, someone he’d met while outside of town when he was at some convention for work and her car had broken down outside of his motel room. She hadn’t left the motel room until the next morning, and Wayne was certain it was just a single night of passion, but…

They had really hit it off, it seemed, and though Wayne hadn’t thought such an amazing and sensual—(“Uncle Wayne! For the love of everything holy, unholy, and whatever’s in-between, please don’t say sensual!)—woman would be interested in him, they exchanged numbers. And then, the day after he’d told her he should be home again from the trip, she called him.

Things only progressed from there, and soon enough there were talks of something committed, of something truly serious, and after a while, Wayne broke the news.

“Boys, my partner is going to be moving back to Hawkins and, while we know it’s a giant leap, we decided to move in together.”

As it turns out, apparently the woman is actually from Hawkins too but had left after the earthquakes tore the town apart, so she is someone that they actually knew. Wayne still won’t tell them who it is, however. He seems a little embarrassed by that, actually, but he also tells them that he is the happiest he’s ever been and he was willing to fight to be with her, so what else can they do but accept that?

They are thus excited for him, excited to finally meet her (again?), and the plan is set that they would have a family dinner together once she was in town. Steve and Eddie are, of course, moderately worried given the whole being queer thing, but Wayne assures them that they will be safe. That Wayne had made damned certain that both his boys would be safe.

(Steve again feels that warmth of belonging to someone, of being loved and cared for and supported in a way he’d never known before.)

And then the day arrives. Steve and Eddie show up early, looking pretty damn spiffy they believe, and help Wayne get the dinner ready, though it’s more like a late lunch really. Eventually, they hear the sounds of tires outside of Wayne’s house.

Wayne, smiling and looking absolutely besotted, moves toward the front door to let his girlfriend in without missing a second. Steve and Eddie hear the door open and close from the kitchen, hear quietly murmured words and what disgustingly sounds like kissing, and then there’s footsteps and—

Steve turns around to greet this mysterious woman, a smile on his face, before dropping the bowl of salad in his hands as shock and something very much like horror make itself known to him.

“MOM???!”

~

Hostage Hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff

[alwaysanundertone]

Balance is key | Regulus Black x fem! reader

Regulus Black x clumsy fem! reader who has a crush on him

fluff

part 1, part 2

You were sitting at the back of the class alone, your Gryffindor friends not being around, probably too hung over from the night before to listen to McGonagall’s voice for two hours straight.

You yawned slightly, when you felt the chair next to you being dragged, and then someone falling into it. You turned your head, then you widened your eyes. Next to you there was Regulus Black, Sirius’ brother but, most importantly, your all time crush.

“Hey, Y/N” He smiled at you, you could swear your heart was about to stop.

“Hey Reggie- I mean Regulus?” You blushed, you were already making a fool of yourself, you couldn’t believe this.

“Reggie’s fine, how was last night?”

You were about to respond, when McGonagall interrupted you abruptly, scolding you about not paying attention, making you both look down at your notes.

An hour went by, and you were bored out of your mind; you started rocking on your chair absentmindedly. It was all fine, until Regulus decided to look over at you, making you loose your balance. You squinted your eyes, preparing yourself for the fall, but it didn’t happen. You slowly peeled your eyes open, noticing Regulus with his wand pointed at you.

“L/N, I thought I made it clear not to rock on these chairs. Mr. Black, great promptness, 10 points to Slytherin.”

You quickly adjusted yourself on your chair, trying to hide yourself behind your hair while blushing.

“Cute”

You thought you had gone mad, your crush couldn’t possibly be calling you cute. You turned around to thank him, but while doing so, your hand knocked all of your papers off your desk.

McGonagall didn’t even comment on that, shaking her head, while you knelt, trying frantically to collect all of your papers but inadvertently hitting your head on the wooden surface, making Regulus kneel under the desk as well.

“Love, what the fuck is happening”

He called you love.

“Regulus, would you please stop flirting with the girl? If you keep this shit up, she’s going to kill herself somehow.” Evan was watching the scene unravel behind you, rolling his eyes slightly.

“F-flirting?! Oh my fucking-“

“L/N! 10 points from Ravenclaw”

“Oh, what the fuck?!”

“Make that 20!”

You decided to keep your mouth shut, while Regulus chuckled lightly. “Easy for you to laugh, you just gained 10 point while I lost 20”

He stared at you. “Fuck!”

“Mr Black, 10 points from Slytherin. I can’t believe you guys.”

You widened your eyes, while he just chuckled. “Happy now, love? Now, can we please go sit? And then talk, maybe?” You nodded, your heart galloping in your chest.

You sat back down, trying to distract yourself by taking notes, though it didn’t seem to work at all.

When the lesson ended, you started collecting your papers, while peeking at the boy next to you, who seemed in no hurry, putting all of his stuff away slowly.

“Hey, Y/N” You stopped abruptly, looking at his eyes, then looking at your hands. “Are you free on Saturday?”

You widened your eyes. “Me? Yes! Yes I don’t have anything to do! Nothing at all! Could stay with you all the weekend-“ You stopped, why the hell were you behaving that way. Embarrassing.

“I mean, maybe we should start with a picnic at the Black Lake, but if you want to spend the night…” You looked up at him, you were sure you were burning up somehow.

“Oh… Sure, so it’s a date?” You slapped a hand on your face, accidentally hurting yourself. Why did you have to make everything awkward?

“Yes, sure! It’s a date” You peeked through your hands, Regulus was smiling kindly at you; he gently peeled your hands away from your face and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Cute. See you on Saturday”

That was official. The Firewhiskey must have done a number on you, because there was no way this was happening.

[writeonwhiskey]

the skz house: ch 21

a/n: brace yourselves. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!

[ read chapter 20 here ]

Chapter 21: Of Rotations and Doors

The first thing you hear the following morning is Hyunjin’s voice mumbling next to you. At least, you assume it’s morning. Without any windows in the basement, you can’t tell if the sun has risen or not. You blindly feel around you for your phone, then remember its way out of reach where you left it, on the bar. You peek an eye open and see that Hyunjin is talking incoherently in his sleep. The past few days of getting readjusted to the time zone must be doing a number on him, because he only does this when he’s extremely tired.  

You rub your eyes and look to your right. The space Chan previously occupied is empty.

The lack of his presence makes you think last night could have been a fever dream, but the way your body aches reassures you it was not. You are terrifically sore. Considering the marathon of sex over your vacation with Chan, followed by this impromptu threesome, your body is feeling extremely used—worn out even. In the best way possible, of course. Your jaw, the muscles in your thighs, your pussy. Each throbbing ache is a pleasant reminder of your boys.

You’re hit with a string of quick flashbacks. You lift the blanket up to cover your face and hide your smile beneath it even though no one can see you. The depravity of it all is still thrilling to think about. And you want to experience it again. You liked having them both at the same time. No, you loved it. Every second of it. Both of their hands on you at once, kissing you, touching you…then both of their cocks at either end of your body. You pull yourself together before pushing the blanket down and turning your attention to the sleeping man at your side.

“Hyunjin,” you say, shaking his shoulders until he stirs. “Wake up.”

His eyes blink open and he looks at his surroundings, an expression of confusion on his sleepy-eyed face.

“We slept down here? What time is it?”

“I worry about you sometimes, and I have no idea.” you tell him. “Let’s go upstairs.”

He sits up, watching as you find your sweatshirt and shorts to put back on. He eventually starts gathering his things too, moving at sloth speed. He stands, only wearing his boxers, with his clothes hugged tight against his chest. You grab the blankets you all tainted and shove them into his chest. He stumbles a bit at the impact, then secures them in his arms with a grumble.

On your way out of the basement, you pick up both of your phones from the bar and see that it’s just about to be 8:00am. You keep the phones in your hand to hide the time from Hyunjin. He’d probably collapse on the stairs if he knew it was this early.

You drag him along for a pitstop to the laundry room and throw the blankets in for washing. Upstairs on the second floor, you send Hyunjin off to his room and continue to the girl’s bathroom alone. You head straight for the shower, but on second thought decide to run a hot bath. Your body needs a good soak.  

The next time you see Chan, you feel unreasonably shy in front of him. He winks at you, and you have to look away as you feel the blood rushing to your face. When the three of you are in the same room together again, your face flushes once more as the memories come crashing back. You can’t stop picturing their faces as they pleased you, and you them. They don’t make it awkward for you, though, which is comforting.

Chan steals a moment alone with you and asks if you enjoyed yourself while tucking a stray group of hairs behind your ear. You can only nod your head enthusiastically in response.

“Good,” he replies.

By December 31st, everyone except the “L Trio”—Felix, Lee Know and Allie—have returned. It had only been a few weeks without everyone, but you’re glad the house is filling back up. You hadn’t realized how quiet it was without Seungmin and Changbin’s constant bickering until they are both back under the same roof. To be honest, you kind of missed hearing the nonsense they would choose to argue about.  

The majority of the last day of the year that has undoubtedly altered your life, is spent lounging around and conserving energy to stay up until the New Year. You, Charlotte and Rhiannon do some light laundry and cleaning—mostly whatever you hadn’t finished the other day while you waited for Chan to come home. Around 7:00pm, the boys get the grill going and you, Charlotte and Rhiannon work on making the side dishes.

Charlotte is washing the rice, Rhiannon is on veggies, and you’re trying your hardest not to ruin the japchae and be on the receiving end of Changbin’s wrath as a result. The man does not play about his food.

“So, y/n,” Rhiannon begins, “The basement seemed off limits for quite a while the other night…”

You pretend to be super concentrated on mixing the soy sauce and sesame oil in a large bowl, thankful that your back is to them. You clear your throat before speaking, hoping to shake off the embarrassment of being called out.

“We just played pool then watched a movie,” you reply, attempting to sound casual about it.

Rhiannon appears at your side and leans against the counter with a carrot still in her hand.

“You little liar,” she says with narrowed eyes. “Changbin specifically got a text, from Chan, saying not to enter the basement.”

“So did Han,” Charlotte adds.

Of course they did. As embarrassing as it feels that they all know something was happening down there…it is quite thoughtful that Chan warned them off. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a good girl.” you tease, giving Rhiannon’s shoulder a playful nudge.

“Uh-huh. Good girl gone bad,” she says, wagging the carrot in front of your face.

She leaves your side and returns to the island to finish chopping the carrot.

“How was it?” Charlotte asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Uhmm,” you falter, searching for the right word to describe the experience. “Earthshattering?”

“And they were both into it?”

“Extremely,” you tell her.

“Have you? With Seungmin and Changbin?” She asks Rhiannon.

“Yeah,” she replies. “In, like, the first month of being here.”

Your jaw drops and you turn around at that. You try to picture Seungmin and Changbin double teaming Rhiannon the way Hyunjin and Chan had done with you but immediately shake the mental images from your head. You cannot see them in that light—as attractive as they may be.

“That soon?” you ask.

She shrugs, “I told them for me to keep my emotions with this whole situation in check, that I needed to do it.”

That’s definitely one way to get a grip on the way things are in the SKZ House. A month into your time with Hyunjin and Chan, a threesome would have absolutely been out of the question. It probably would have mentally destroyed you that early on. And maybe Chan, too.

“Did they argue the whole time?” you can’t imagine it going down any other way.

She laughs at that.

“I didn’t let them—I told them who was putting what where and they didn’t push back about anything.”

“Do you think they always do this?” you ask. “With all their assignees?”

“I dunno…maybe not. Judging from how excited they were for it. Though I think any college aged boy would be excited for a threesome no matter how many times they’ve experienced it,” she replies with a shrug. “It probably depends on the assignee and the pairings.”

“Have you had a threesome with Han and Jeongin?” you turn to Charlotte and ask.

She’s setting the rice pot into the rice cooker. She closes the lid and presses cook before turning around to face you and Rhiannon.

“No,” she shakes her head. “I don’t think I could—or that they would.”

“Why not?” Rhi asks.

“I mean…I really enjoy foreplay—making out, touching, all the things that happen before sex. Sex…I like it, but maybe not enough to take on two at the same time.”

You had been naïve enough to believe that all the other girls were having similar sexual awakenings to you. Maybe not to the extent of what Chan has done to you, but their own version of it. Rhiannon seems to call the shots with Changbin and Seungmin, while Charlotte, Jeongin and Han appear to be copacetic.

“And why don’t you think they’d like it?” Rhiannon digs further.

“You’ve seen how shy Han can be…I think I get to see a very different side to him when we’re intimate. One that the boys don’t know about, not even Jeongin. The three of us being together in that sense would cause Han to be completely vulnerable and I don’t know that he would do that in front of the other members. While having sex, at least.”

You think back to Han and how nervous he was to give his speech and how helpful the other members were when he practiced. He is already vulnerable with them. But, perhaps, being vulnerable with someone while you’re naked and fucking a girl could be something entirely out of his comfort zone. You try to push the thoughts from your head. It’s something you can’t, or maybe don’t want, to imagine either.

Once all the food is ready, everyone sits at the table. Since there are only nine of you at the house currently, no one sits at the head of the table. Instead, you all fill in the middle seats. You sit next to Hyunjin and Chan is right across from you.

“Anyone want to share a lesson they learned this year?” Seungmin asks. “Good or bad.”

“Picturing your audience naked for a speech is a terrible idea,” Han announces.

“I told you to just imagine them all with handlebar mustaches,” Changbin comments.

“That sounds even more uncomfortable. An audience of Vaudevillians?” He shivers at the thought.

“That’s why no one takes Changbin’s advice,” Seungmin quips.

“Well, I’ve learned that Seungmin’s mother loves to take my advice…among other things,” Changbin rebuffs.

Seungmin shoots him a dirty look and throws a spicy cucumber at him.

“Ya,” Chan cuts in just as Changbin catches the flying cucumber slice with his hand. “Sijak hajimara.”

Changbin tosses it in his mouth then winks at Seungmin, but they both settle down after whatever Chan said. Everyone else proceeds to share actual things they’ve learned over the past year and how they’ll proceed moving forward with it as a life lesson.

“I’ve learned a lot about patience,” you say when it’s your turn.

The patience it took to break through with Chan, the patience he forced you to have when he was edging you to the point of no return, and the patience that Hyunjin had for you to be ready for him.

“It’s best not to rush things and, as they say, good things come to those who wait,” you continue. “I was honestly tempted to leave the SKZ house after my first week of being knee deep in this chaos, but I’m glad I had the patience to see it out. I’m grateful to have met you all and have you in my life, even if it’s only for a little while.”

A silence hangs in the air after your statement. You know you’re not the only one that has to come to terms with the dissolution of these bonds after the spring semester is over.

“I’ve learned that some rules are meant to be broken,” Chan speaks up and his words take you by surprise. “You can’t push forward; you can’t figure out who you really are, if you’re playing it safe between the lines.”

You look over at him and offer a small smile.

Hyunjin is the only one that hasn’t gone yet. Everyone looks at him expectantly.

“Me?” he asks rhetorically. “Well…I did learn that turpentine or mineral spirits work best for cleaning your brush when dealing with oil paint.”

Another silence hangs in the air after his extremely lackluster statement.

“Boooo!” Han jeers, and laughter fills the dining room.

After the meal is over, everyone helps to wash the dishes and clean the kitchen. It’s amazing how quickly things can get done with nine people. Over the next few hours everyone splits up and does their own thing in mixed-matched pairings. Some watch a movie, some play beer pong downstairs. You go to the backyard with Seungmin and Jeongin to get the fire started.  

It's fucking freezing. Like, see your breath when you speak, kind of freezing.

You try not to focus on the cold and busy yourself with turning on the TV. It’s mounted on the wall near the outdoor table and grill. You find a channel that’s doing a New Year countdown and leave it on that. You then grab the cushions from the seats around the table and take them to the firepit. The sitting area surrounding the firepit is made of stone and with the current temperature, it’d be a death wish to sit directly on it.

You watch as Jeongin douses the firewood in lighter fluid before setting it ablaze, grinning like a mad man as he watches the flames rise. The others eventually come out to join once the fire is going and providing warmth. Hyunjin brings out a blanket for you and you cuddle up next to him underneath it. When your body shivers, he offers you his cup and you take a small sip of the alcohol inside to warm up.  

Chan and Han disappear into the house before re-emerging with the fireworks picked up the other day. They lay the larger ones on the concrete next to the covered pool and leave them for later before handing out sparklers to everyone and lighting them. You sit up as it fizzles, not wanting any of the sparks to land on Hyunjin or your shared blanket.

Chan then comes to sit on your other side. He watches you, taking in the child-like amusement on your face as you wave the sparkler around in front of you. He lights each one you have in turn, until there are no more left.

You move to lay back against Hyunjin, but then pause. Should you lay on Chan? You don’t think they’d care either way.

Chan’s hand comes to your shoulder and lowers you back down to Hyunjin’s side. You lift the blanket, offering him to join the warmth. He takes the blanket and covers his lap with it before laying his hand on your thigh, beneath the blanket. You place your cold hand on top of his. He jumps a little at the contact and then moves his hand on top of yours to warm it up.

Everyone else gets comfortable around the firepit, cuddled up for warmth in similar fashions—assignee to members.

“How long until midnight?” Hyunjin asks.

“About twenty minutes,” Chan replies, glancing at the TV.

“Y/N might freeze to death before then,” he adds as you shiver again.

“I’m okay,” you say. “I have you both to keep me warm.”

“Is that all we are to you?” Hyunjin asks with mock hurt.

“Tonight, yes.” You tell him.

“You’re lucky we both run warm,” Chan says, before addressing Hyunjin in Korean.

Hyunjin drapes his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. Chan moves with you, staying close to your other side to keep you warm.

Changbin and Seungmin speaking in suddenly raised voices waft over the burning fire.

“I wouldn’t put my hand in for $100,” Changbin is saying,

“$500 then,” Seungmin says.

“That’s a leg…maybe.”

“Nobody’s jumping in the pool,” Chan cuts in flatly. “It’s partially frozen.”

“Oh,” Seungmin says, as if he wasn’t aware, “In that case I’ll pay you $2,000 to do it. Do it, Binnie.”

“Don’t.” Chan says in a stern tone you’re all too familiar with.

“He wouldn’t anyways, he’s bluffing,” Seungmin says.

“I would,” Changbin remains defiant.

Chan shakes his head and rolls his eyes. These are the young men he’s in charge of and those two, specifically, are probably the hardest to wrangle. Especially when they’re together. How they both got paired with one girl is beyond you. Rhiannon, you assume, must have a whole different set of problems compared to what you’ve gone through with Chan and Hyunjin.

You look over to Jeongin, Han, and Charlotte. They’re in their own little world as usual. Han is playing something on his phone while Charlotte and Jeongin watch with him. She, too, is in the middle of them. They seem like the calmest trio in the house.

You wonder what the dynamic is like between Allie, Felix and Lee Know. You wish they were here. Well, maybe not Lee Know. He can stay in Korea with his shenanigans.

“It’s almost time!” Jeongin jumps up to announce, grabbing the utility lighter.

Chan stands, too, and your left side immediately feels the lack of his warmth. He walks to Jeongin and takes the lighter from him. Seungmin grabs the other lighter before Jeongin can get to that one too.

“I can do it,” Jeongin says, sounding very much like the youngest member.

“I don’t want any repeats of last year,” Chan tells him.

“That was a fluke. The firework wasn’t placed correctly.”

“Okay, Innie,” Chan tells him with a curt nod but still proceeds towards the fireworks with the lighter in his own hand.

As the others rise, you and Hyunjin follow suit. He wraps the blanket around both of you and you walk towards the TV together. Chan sets up a perimeter of sorts around the fireworks, warning everyone not to stand too close.

The 60 second countdown on the TV begins.

Part of you can’t believe this is how you’re ending the year. The things you’ve seen, the things you’ve done…never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined. Now, here you are, with this newfound community. You’ve endured a lot of pain, confusion and heartache, but you’re ending it happier than ever. More bonded with this group than ever.

When the 10 second countdown begins, Chan returns to your other side.

“10…9…8…”

You reach out and lace your fingers through his as everyone continues counting out loud in unison.

“7…6…5…4…”

These two men on either side of you have taught you so much about yourself these past couple of months. How to get out of your comfort zone, how to hold your ground, how to rely on someone, how to submit and trust. You’ll never get to experience this again, but you’re glad you get to right now.

“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Chan turns your face to his first and places a hard, but chaste, kiss to your lips, followed by a few short and quick pecks. He releases you and leaves your side to attend to the fireworks. You then turn to Hyunjin. He wraps his arms around your waist and yours move up to his neck; his kiss is deeper. Your eyes flutter shut as his tongue enters your mouth, seeking out your own. You kiss him back and everything around you feels oddly quiet.

Until the sound of fireworks startles you both and you break apart. You look up to the sky in awe, watching as they burst into huge, bright, colorful spectacles. You slip your arms beneath Hyunjin’s and hold his waist, face pressed against his chest. Still cold…but content.

You return to sit near the firepit as Seungmin and Chan finish setting off the fireworks. Then you all watch the others going off around the city as they light up the sky, too. It’s beautiful.

When the fire dies out, everyone goes back inside. Your limbs start to defrost the second you step into the house. Everyone hangs out for a while longer but as it approaches 3:00am, they start to disperse. Chan kisses you on the forehead before going up to his room, and not too long after you and Hyunjin head up too.

In his room, Hyunjin acknowledges how sore your body feels—but he still asks to taste you. He insists it’s good luck to enter the new year this way. And you let him. After all your interactions with Chan, it’s nice to just be worshipped by Hyunjin. You don’t have to think about anything, you can just relax and feel. And he knows exactly how to make you feel good.

The start of the new year in SKZ House is relatively calm. When Allie, Felix and Lee Know return home everything is complete. The house feels whole again. You all settle back into your routines and get adjusted to your new class schedules when the semester starts. You’re surprised when Hyunjin shows up in the biology course you’re a TA for. You’re happy to see him there, but you’re stern with him after the first class that he has to work for his grade, there won’t be any favoritism. He seems a little offended at that.

You keep up the same schedule—Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday nights with Chan, and Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights with Hyunjin. It doesn’t give you any cause for concern as it once had. You are now certain that there is no jealousy, and you can relax when you’re alone with either of them, and when you’re with them together.

On one of the Sunday nights when you get to choose where you sleep—you proposition them both and they agree. In Chan’s room, this time. Hyunjin buries himself between your legs while Chan teases your nipples and kisses you. You bounce on Chan’s dick as Hyunjin fucks your mouth, but this time you ask them both to cover you in their come. They grant your request with ease.

As February approaches, you can honestly say that you’ve found a happy balance between the two men. You’re very aware of how quickly the time that you have with them flies by, but you continue to push it to the back of your mind. You must live in the present.

On Friday, when you and Hyunjin return home from your shared afternoon class, you can immediately tell something in the house has changed while you were gone. With the exception of Chan and Lee Know, everyone is sitting in the living room when you both walk in. They turn to look at you, and the girls stand from the couch. Charlotte beckons you to follow them to the den.

A sense of worry starts to flurry in the pit of your stomach as you walk behind them. You close the door once you’re all inside, then the four of you sit on the plush rug in the center of the room.

“What’s going on?” you ask. “You guys are scaring me.”

“There was an announcement,” Allie says, taking a deep breath. “A two-week rotational is being enacted.”

You furrow your brow.

“A what?”

“From the rotational clause in the contract?” Charlotte, bless her heart, sounds confused by the fact that you haven’t memorized the contract from start to finish.

That damned fucking contract.

“I must have skipped over that part…what is it?”

“For the next two weeks, we are going to be with a different member pairing. Lee Know and Chan are upstairs working out who will be with who now.”

All you can do is blink. You’re hearing the words coming out of her mouth quite clearly, but they’re not making sense when strung together. You’re being assigned to new members? For two weeks? That can’t be right.

You have only recently come to a level of comfortability with Chan and Hyunjin, only to presumably have it destroyed by this. With Hyunjin, maybe not so much…but Chan, you can only wonder how he’s handling this while setting up a schedule for which of his fraternity brothers will have you next.

“They say you don’t really have to do anything sexual,” Charlotte adds. “But it’s not off the table. It’s encouraged actually—with proper protection.”

“But…why would they want this?” You ask.

“It promotes the idea of community or something, I don’t know…I think it’s really so we can’t get too attached to any one specific person or set.” she continues.

You try to see yourself being intimate with anyone else in the house besides Chan or Hyunjin. But again, it’s difficult for you to imagine. You’ve done well, so far, keeping everything platonic and respectful with the other members. Why would they want to complicate things with this?

The girls continue discussing the upcoming rotation, but you’re caught up in your thoughts. When you go back out to the living room and see Lee Know on the couch, you immediately turn for the stairs.

You knock on Chan’s door, and he calls out for you to enter. He’s lying flat on his bed, legs crossed at the ankles, hands intertwined on his chest, eyes looking up at the ceiling.

“Is it true? This is really happening?” you ask.

“Yes,” he replies sullenly. “Starting Sunday, you’ll be with Seungmin and Changbin for two weeks.”

You stand at the side of the bed, willing him to look at you but his gaze remains on the ceiling.

“Can you look at me?”

He lets out a sigh before turning to face you. You sit down on the bed and scooch closer to him. You need a better understanding of where his mind is with this.

“Do you guys do this every year?”

“No, we don’t,” he tells you. “It’s an order coming down from higher up.”

“Higher up?” you repeat, “Your father?”

His silence confirms your assumption.

“Why?”

“You know why,” he says plainly.

And you do. His father wants to make sure Chan is not getting too attached to you and straying from the path he has been on since before he was born, probably.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“I don’t think I’m really allowed to feel anything about it. That’s kind of the point of it all.”

“What if we just say we did this rotational bullshit, but don’t actually do it?”

“No…we should,” he tells you.

You arch an eyebrow. Not too long ago he was saying he couldn’t handle the thought of you fucking anyone else in the house besides Hyunjin…now he thinks this is a good idea?

“He’d find out if we didn’t…he always finds out everything.” He continues, sounding defeated. “It’s not required, but you can fuck them if you want to.”

It’s been a while since anything he’s said has felt like a punch to the gut. You climb on top of him and straddle his waist. He remains limp until you grab his hands and place them on your hips. You lean forward to place a quick kiss to his lips.

“I don’t want to,” you say softly, shaking your head.

“You say that now, but you can be open to it.”

“And you’re not just saying that now?” you counter.

He shakes his head.

“The other girls are great,” he says, “but they’re not you.”

“And none of the other members are you.”

How can he not see it from your point of view? He’s being adamant that he wants no one else, yet can’t seem to grasp that you don’t either.

“Maybe we should just go along with it.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest. You feel offended at the suggestion and don’t respond to it. You can’t without getting angry. And you don’t want to be angry with him…this situation, the way he’s feeling…none of it is his fault. You can see he’s struggling to cope with what he wants from you and the reality of what’s to come.

“We are forbidden to speak about what happens during rotations, anyways. You could do it and I would never know.”

“I don’t want to,” you say again.

“But you should.” he replies. “You should want to. I should want to. That’s why he’s doing this.”

“And you’re going to let him win?”

“I don’t see any other options,” he shrugs. “We are going to have to move on from each other at some point, y/n. Maybe this will help.”

It’s not often Chan seems powerless. Right now is one of those rare times. You slide off his waist and onto the bed. He doesn’t even try to stop you from moving away. You can see the conflict within him. Wanting to be with you, but also wanting to finish the school year as his parents intended.

“I should go,” you say, sliding off the bed and standing up.

This is a losing battle for you.

He gets up from the bed, too, and walks behind you towards the door without saying anything. You reach for the handle to turn it, then pull the door open. His left hand immediately shoots out and palms the door, shutting it. He leaves his hand on the door, and you can feel his warmth, hear his breathing directly behind you.

You close your eyes and sigh.

“Chan. If this is what you want, you have to let me go.”

“It doesn’t matter what I want,” he says darkly.

But it does. It really does. And you wish he could see that. Does he think he’s doing you a favor by suggesting you get over him now, before the semester ends? That somehow fucking the other members in this house will rid your feelings of him.

“I’m gonna go.”

You pull the door open again. He slams it shut.

“No.” The word comes out like a plea from his lips.

He grabs ahold of your waist and spins you around so you’re facing him. His grip on you tightens as he pushes you back against the door. In the next instant his mouth is on yours while his right hand yanks down your leggings and underwear. His hand cups your pussy, rubbing against it as his tongue claims your mouth.

You can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips at his touch. He rubs your pussy until your hips are bucking against his hand and you’re dripping wet. Your body always betrays you, with him. You shouldn’t want him as much as you do, after all he just said.

He pulls down his own pants then grabs you by the hips and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He positions himself at your entrance before pulling you down onto him so hard that you scream out.

“I’ve never wanted or needed anything, or anyone so fucking bad.” he says, lifting you up and slamming you back down onto his cock.

“You think I want to share you? You know I don’t.”

He lifts you up slowly, once more, before forcefully pulling you back down again.

“You could fuck every single guy in this house, y/n, and the thought of it fucking kills me.”

His hands move down to your ass, gripping it for better leverage as he fucks you.

“Rub your clit for me.”

You reach a hand down between you and start rubbing your clit. He keeps fucking you, his breath coming out in anxious spurts as he slams your pussy down on his cock. His eyes are watching his cock enter you, your fingers on your clit.

“My girl. My fucking girl. My pussy.”

“Chan,” you moan his name.

“Wait for me,” he demands, recognizing the look on your face.

You bite your bottom lip between your teeth as he keeps thrusting into you. You lean your head back against the door and fuck him back with your hips. The sounds of your body hitting the door is anything but quiet. Neither of you care.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he says. “Tell me you’re mine.”

He brings a hand to your neck, squeezing it and pressing you back against the door frame as he fucks you. You press your lips firmly together and shake your head—you don’t want to give him the satisfaction right now, after all he’s suggested. He growls and holds you still while his hips drive into you.

As his thrusting and breathing become erratic, you let yourself go, too. The walls of your pussy clench around his cock as you come. His thrusts slow down, but they’re still just as forceful, knocking you back against the door as he comes too.

He rests his forehead against yours as he withdraws from you. You set your legs back on the floor and drop your arms from his neck.  

“Mine,” he whispers.

You pull your leggings and underwear back up, eyes hardened as you stare at him.

“Everybody’s apparently,” you say coldly.

His jaw tightens. You place your hands on his chest and push him backwards before turning around and opening the door. He slams it shut after you exit and you grit your teeth as you walk down the hall, fighting against every atom in your body telling you to turn around and go back to him.

You don’t want anyone else besides Chan and Hyunjin. But ultimately, you can’t have either of them. Will it be easier to break the physical ties you have with them now? Rather than waiting a few more months and suffering then? You haven’t decided what you’ll do in the coming weeks. Whether you sleep with anyone else or you don’t, it has to be your decision.

[ read chapter 22 here ]

a/n: i am asking you guys to trust the process of my story telling haha. we have a chan POV coming up in ch 23 to look forward to!

since the tag list has not been working, i created a mailing list so i can email those of you who want to know when the chapter is being posted. if you'd like to sign up, click the link below. the email may initially go to your spam folder, it will be coming from writeonwhiskey@214560374.mailchimpapp.com. not spam, just me :)

[ mailing list sign up ]

[totaly-obsessed]

Casual

➳ Nika Mühl x reader

➳ Happy late Birthday to me, let's hope 21 will be better than 20...

➳ You're casual until you're not

➳ based on this request

➳ Word count: 1.510

My friends call me a loser 'Cause I'm still hanging around

“You are such a loser, it’s sad to see.”

You knew your friend was right too. Sitting in the crowd of a UConn Huskies basketball game, watching your, whatever she was. Certainly not your girlfriend, she likes to make that one quite clear.

“I’m gonna say it - she’ll never love you back.”

“You don’t know that.”

Just a second later Nika made a huge block, sending the ball to Paige and it didn’t take much longer until they scored the next points. The filled-to-the-brim Gampel Pavilion was on its feet, students celebrating the great play left and right. Meanwhile, you were still sitting, staring at the brunette on the court, who seemed to feel it. That goddamn cocky smirk on her face as she blew you a kiss.

“She’s just fucking with you.”

“Maybe. But it’s fun.”

You said, "We're not together" So now when we kiss, I have anger issues You said, "Baby, no attachment"

“You’re already leaving?”

Nika had just come back from the bathroom, throwing you a towel before turning to the door, hand on the handle. “We’re not together.”

Her back was still to you, hiding the saddened expression, desperate to hide it from you as long as she could. Hand still shaking from the work she had put in, before covering you with a blanket and rushing to the bathroom.

“I know. I just thought -” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before she turned around with a deep sigh. For a moment she just stood there admiring you as you were still in bed. Three long strides was all it too until she was back right in front of you, your noses touching.

“Baby, no attachment.”, you could feel her warm breath hit your face, as your eyes shut. This hurt. You knew that the Croatian didn’t want attachment, but damn this hurt more than you thought.

You thought she would just leave you, afterall she wanted no attachment. But then her soft lips were on yours, and it must have been the most passionate kiss shared between the two of you, as she straddled your hips, much like she had been a couple of minutes ago. Breathless and panting you tried chasing her lips as she pulled back.

“I have to go now.”

I know what you tell your friends It's casual

“Just tell her Nika.” 

You didn’t want to, but couldn’t help listening into the conversation between Paige and Nika, who sat behind you in a lecture you were mostly sure the blonde didn’t even attend. She had snuck in, and they had sat down right behind you.

While you did not feel Nika staring at you, Paige certainly did. But her whispering skills left much to desire as she was speaking in what would be a normal tone for everyone else.

“What do you want me to tell her? That it’s casual? She knows that.”

The brunette guard saw you flinch at her harsh words and immediately regretted them. Sure she wanted you to hear her, different to her ‘twin’ She actually knew how to whisper, and she knew that you knew that as well. The number of times a ‘come to my dorm after this’ had been whispered in your ear after a game was far larger than you wanted to admit.

“Keep telling yourself that.”

It's hard being casual When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

Usually, Nika had the dorm to herself at this time of the week, so seeing Caroline open the door really had been a shock to you. She didn’t even question why you were there, opening the door further to let you in.

Fuck the whole team was there.

“What do you want?”

KK’s head snapped around, looking at her teammate “Damn Nika, you could be a bit nicer.” The only reply the freshman got was a shove back as the Croatian made her way over to the door, an iron grip on your wrist as she dragged you to her all too familiar room, “Shut up KK.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know they’d be here.”

Nika nearly didn’t hear you, she was way too focused on your MakeUp before letting her eyes wander to your outfit. “What are you wearing?”

“It’s a dress.”

If you hadn’t been so annoyed with her you would have found the way her eyebrow shot up and her pissed-off face incredibly hot. 

What were you talking about? It was incredibly hot.

“Why are you here?”

The Croatian tried to figure out if you were there to surprise her, all dressed up, or if there was a different reason. Either way, she certainly wouldn’t complain about having you here looking like a goddess. Especially not after practice had gotten under her skin today.

“I’m going to a party and I think I might have left my favorite bra here. Have you seen it?”

You didn’t wait long until you started ‘searching’ her room. Looking under the blanket you knew was soft and warm, and in every corner, Nika could have flung it. “You’re going out?”

The sharp glance you threw her was enough to shut her up. Something that slightly surprised you, as well as her. With an annoyed tut at the mess you were making, she walked to her dresser, pulled the bottom drawer out, and pointed at it. “Right there.”

The drawer was nearly empty, except for your favorite bra, a pair of fluffy socks you were missing, and some of your work papers you must have forgotten here.

“Damn Nika. It almost looks like you care. Storing all my things, and I am sure you washed them as well.”

Ignoring your quip at her, she watched as you took your stuff out, before putting it all back, except the bra. It lifted a bit of the burden on the brunette's heart. It meant you were coming back to her room.

“Who are you going out with?” You had just come back from her bathroom, changed into the newly acquired, very nice smelling, bra - and Nika could see why it was your favorite. Stunned, she watched as you went back to the drawer, placing the one you had just worn in there.

“Have to leave you something for your fantasies, don’t I?” But Nika didn’t even listen to you.- “Who are you meeting?”

I try to be the chill girl But honestly, I'm not

Your plan had backfired.

Well, it worked and then backfired.

Just as you had planned Nika dragged her friends to the club you would be partying at. It had only five minutes until she had kissed the information out of you.

But instead of you making her jealous, it was Nika making you jealous. If she wanted to or not, but the pretty little redhead getting closer and closer to the Croatian, until she was pretty much sitting on her lap, was your worst enemy in the world.

“Girl you gotta be chill.”

Your friends had been amused at first with how pissed you looked, but with every passing second the probability of you actually going over and committing a crime got higher, so they stopped finding it funny.

“I’m trying.”

“Gotta try harder then.”

You swear you could feel bile rising in your throat, after hearing a squeaky voice go “Your hands are so big!”, louder than anything you had heard before. You didn’t hear Nika’s reply, but you didn’t try to as you made your way to the bathrooms.

“Your hands are so big.”, you mimic in the mirror as you were washing your face, pulling faces of disgust, not noticing a certain someone behind you. Until hips met your ass, and you knew these hips.

“Don’t you agree with her? Aren’t my hands big? Hmm?” You could feel said hands gripping your hip before making their way down to your thighs. 

“Shut up. I’m not coming home with you today.”

“That’s what you always say.”

And she was right. You did join her, on her way home, in her bed, and in her shower before going back to bed.

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

Your head was resting on Nika’s chest, a very comfortable position if you had to admit, her hand going through your hair as you were listening to her heart.

The stabs to your heart were ignored for just a couple of minutes of peace with the girl you had inevitably fallen in love with. you had taken hit after hit coming from her, just to lay on her chest and take her in.

“Have you ever thought about making it more than casual? You know, us? I think about it all the time.”

She had to be kidding.

Putting you through hell and back, laughing at you when you got jealous, telling you ‘We’re not together’ and ‘Baby, no attachment’.

“Fuck off Nika.”

[nimrochan]

I don’t think that my few handfuls of followers on various social media accounts realize that I’m an American-Israeli. I’ve been watching things unfold and staying silent for the most part. I know it’s very easy to have an opinion from the comfort and safety of my home, but too many people are also echoing online opinions without enough information or thought behind them. Although it’s fair to say that I’m biased, I think it’s important to view conflicts from multiple perspectives. Including and especially from someone from the actual region/culture that everyone outside of it suddenly has an opinion on. And I think I’m ready to say what I wanted to say:

Why aren’t people more angry with Hamas?

I’ve spent some childhood years in Israel. Every week on the news was another incident - a bus b*mbing, a car b*mbing, a s*icide b*mber… I remember being terrified of getting on buses, or going to public places. I remember soldiers standing at the entrance of every mall, and I remember hearing how one soldier died while stopping a s*icide b*mber at a mall entrance - both were women in their early 20’s. Until today my father tells me to avoid crowded places, and to always stand in a corner with my back on the wall to observe my surroundings.

When I moved to America I had moved on from these memories and didn’t really think about them. But the attacks never stopped. For DECADES. And over the last few years I did notice that very few non-Jewish Americans were aware of what life is like in Israel - having a barrage of rockets rain on you every once in a while. Having alerts to warn you to head to the nearest shelter. Israel has the protection of the Iron Dome. But it’s not perfect, and some rockets do hit their targets. Also, you know, maybe people shouldn’t be firing rockets unprovoked into another country?? (Don’t even get me started on Hezbollah, too.) No one bats an eye if other countries randomly shoot rockets into Israel, but as soon as Israel retaliates to try destroying the area where rockets come from, everyone comes out of the woodwork to condemn them.

Some of my American family members have an app that dings every time rockets are fired into Israel. I could never bring myself to download it. The number of dings drives me crazy.

In fact, if you ever wanted to buy a piece of jewelry or sculpture made of Hamas rockets, there are businesses upcycling them.

If you’re not from Israel, I just want you to imagine the number of rockets that regularly have to come into your country for any rockets-to-products businesses to even exist. For reasons beyond my comprehension, a lot of political parties in America want to defund the Iron Dome, a system designed solely for defense. But I digress.

Gazans never had an Iron Dome and yet Hamas gives no regard to the lives of their own people when they fire openly from homes, schools, hospitals. When they hide hostages and weapons in heavily populated areas.

I remember frantically texting and calling people on 10/07 to see if any of my family members were harmed or killed in the attack. All while anti-Zionists already rallied on social media to offer no sympathy and blame the attack on the Jews on, the Jews. Right. Luckily, whatever close family I had in the area was far away enough from the attack that they were spared, and they soon evacuated. My second cousin and her kids were only spared because they happened to be away, but their home was in ashes and their friends and neighbors were dead.

Israel is a small and close-knit country. I don't have words to describe how we grieved. 1200 innocent civilians sl*ughtered for no reason. That number is just a little under half of the number of deaths on 9/11, and it was done without the help of airplanes, just men running around killing people. The youngest one was 14 hours old. This is the largest m*rder of Jews since the Holocaust. I won’t even go into detail about how some of their bodies were mutilated because it’s too horrific for me to want to type it out. In fact I left the most disturbing footage out of this post. I had been avoiding seeing the footage of Shani Louk, but it was shown at the exhibit too and I’ll never be able to forget it for as long as I live. It made me sick to my stomach.

Look at the pictures. Look at all those shoes. The last time I felt such powerful emotion staring at shoes was at a Holocaust museum. A lot of item displays included their owners’ smart phones showing their final videos on a loop. The people who attend the Nova festival tend to be laid-back, free spirits. They show up covered in glitter and wearing fairy-wings, waving rainbow flags. They lived next to Gaza because they felt safe there, and they often supported Palestinians. Listen to the unhindered joy in the voice of the man calling his father to tell him he had m*rdered ten Jews. One of the most disgusting parts of this is the fact that people protested outside this exhibit as well.

When I brought myself to browse social media again, over and over I saw posts about how “they deserved it” and “they had it coming.” The same people, the same self-proclaimed “feminists” who would shared the #MeToo and #YesAllWomen hashtags, people with immensely large followings, were now having no sympathy for the Israeli women who were r*ped, basically saying “she asked for it.” People defending and excusing Hamas because they “weren’t created in a vacuum.” When did we start excusing r*pe and t*rrorism for ANY reason? On that note, don’t you think Israel’s aggressive defense of itself also stems from a historical reason, shaped by outside forces?

And then there are many voices still expressing plain denial! This was the most well-documented t*rrorist attack in history, because the attackers filmed it with pride, and yet over and over I also saw people posting about how “it never happened,” “they would never do that,” and how these t*rrorists were just “resistance fighters” with propaganda crafted to “make them look bad.”

In my home state of New York, I saw people marching wearing same types of scarves that these “resistance fighters” wore to commit crimes against humanity so recently, tearing down posters of Israeli hostages instead of hanging their own posters on innocent killed Gazans and sharing in the grief.

I see people over and over calling Israelis “white colonists,” when in fact MOST OF THEM ARE BROWN, dark-skinned just like their neighbors (if I showed you photos of my family in Israel, you'd be surprised to learn they aren't Arabic). We are an ethnic minority on this planet and in every country except Israel, but antisemites love to flip the script and paint us as majority white colonizer oppressors. When the majority of Americans calling for the abolishment of Israel are themselves actually living on colonized land (I mean, really?) When most of North Africa has been colonized by Arab populations, yet everyone seems to conveniently forget that. Most alarmingly, I see people marching the streets and praising Hamas and the actual 10/07 attacks.

These same people probably could never spot Gaza on a map before 10/07. Where were they for the Chinese Uyghurs? Where were they for the mass murdered Syrians? For Afghans left at the mercy of the Taliban? For Iraqis killed after 9/11? For Darfur? Because no news unless Jews, right? How can you say you care about Muslims and then praise Hamas? How can you be Pro-Palestine and Pro-Hamas at the same time?! There is a huge, sick problem in America when college students here are applauded by overseas t*rrorist leaders on goddamn Twitter.

And these “Queers for Palestine”- where is the support for the gayest, most feminist, and most liberal country in the Middle East? (Go ahead and look up which country in the Middle East holds annual Pride Parades.) Where is the support for the millions of Arab-Israelis and other non-Jews who call Israel their home? Where is the support for the Arabs and non-Jews also killed on 10/07? Where are the feminists using their voices to demand Hamas return the hostages that are very likely being r*ped as I type this?

I feel like I’m going crazy telling people that there is a lot of fake news and propaganda being spread by Hamas and eaten up by the West. I am not the kind of person to use the phrase “fake news.” But when I see some extreme footage allegedly showing the IDF doing something especially horrible, I count the hours or days before the news is silently retracted because it turned out to be incorrect. Propaganda against Jews has seeped so far into gentile culture over the decades that people don't even realize it. It’s become sickeningly casual and normalized in all kinds of circles. Hell, I don’t even know who to vote for or who secretly wants me dead - the left side with the pro-Hamas crowd or the right side with their white supermacists .

No, I am not denying that a lot of innocent Gazans are dying horrific deaths. When I see footage of injured Palestinian children, I don’t look away and pretend it doesn’t happen, because it does. But what about Hamas dressing up as civilians, firing weapons among civilians, and continuing to hide the hostages??? What about the 15-17 year old brainwashed children marching with guns? When is enough enough? You know which army doesn’t hide in civilian clothing, or recruit children, or parade naked dead women around after they’ve killed them?? Take a guess.

War is fucking awful. And I'm not trying to justify it, just trying to articulate why this is such a clusterfuck of a situation. Someone please name any other country that wouldn’t retaliate and demand their hostages back after such an ugly, unprovoked attack. Someone please explain to me why the hatred is so intense and out of proportion. Again, DECADES of attacks. Someone please tell me what should be done - because if you do nothing, then 10/07 happens over and over and over again. Israelis are all living, breathing people with families just like Gazan civilians are. Stop dehumanizing us.

Why is it that after the Ukraine-Russia war started, when most westerners were on Ukraine’s side (including myself so don’t jump down my throat), that individual Russians living in western countries did not feel threatened the way individual Jews are being threatened? That war actually seems a way more black-and-white situation to me. Why did the Israeli singer for Eurovision need presidential-level protection from the mob gathered outside her hotel? Why did the other contestants continually insult her? You think every single Jew on the planet has a say in what happens in Israel?

Why am I going on social media to dumb down, only to see posts like “Reblog to increase IDF soldier s*icides” and “Like to # CeaseFire” and “From the river to the sea” (that expression basically means to promote the killing of all Israelis, I don’t care how you look at it). Why are you trying to call a cease fire with t*rrorists who are known to constantly break ceasefire, then make a surprised Pikachu face when they do it again?

Anti-Zionism is a clever cover for anti-semitism. The very definition of Zionism is the pursuit of an independent Jewish state (of which there is currently only ONE - for comparison, there are 57 Muslim countries). A lot of people don’t even know what Zionism is when they call themselves Anti-Zionist. And if you do? Most Jews are Zionist. You can’t separate semitism from Zionism to make yourself feel better. Israel is such a tiny country, it takes 6 hours to drive end-to-end across the longest part. While all over the world, synagogues are being threatened, Jewish graveyards are being vandalized, and Jews are being attacked, you are absolutely telling me and my people that we don’t deserve a safe space. And yes, Jews are indigenous to the Middle East just like Arabs are.

How do people rally against discrimination, but in the same breath act like discrimination towards Jews doesn’t count? You can’t reason your way out of it. You do not get to tell me what is and isn’t antisemitic.

Hamas does NOT give a damn about the actual land that Jews are living on. Hamas’s ultimate goal is to kill all Jews (it's LITERALLY spelled out in their government charter), is that what people want?? And even if you deny it, you think you could theoretically move all 8 million Jews out of Israel to where exactly?

You think other countries want to welcome a mass migration of 8 million Jews? (Remember why Jews left in the first place?) You want literal t*rrorists to have a stronger foothold in the Middle East?

Why do the surrounding countries condemn Israel, yet not step up to help Gazans either? Why won’t they open up their borders?

I’m sick and tired of people who have zero stake in the Middle East and very little knowledge just jumping on the bandwagon and virtue-signaling like it’s some clear black-and-white situation when it’s not. And then having the nerve to lecture ME. I’m angry and I’m frustrated.

Bring them the fuck home.

[meltedheartz]

been stuck thinkin’ about izu again (^o^)

tw: age gap (reader in his 20s, izu in his mid 30s), ftm!reader, black reader in mind, just a drabble tbh T_T.

when you first met izuku, it was at a coffee shop.

nothing more than luck, you’d suppose, when you spilled your coffee on the sidewalk and he had offered a replacement—free of charge.

after that, you start noticing that the number one hero is frequenting your favorite café, so you take a risk and start talking to him.

you fully thought he’d brush you off—you’re nothing more than another face in the crowd, after all.

but he didn’t.

he smiled at you, told you to just call him midoriya for now, exchanged numbers with you as you talked it up in that specific café.

it takes a little bit of digging, but izuku finds all of your socials.

you’re cute. you haven’t posted anything on a few of your pages for awhile, but he discovers you’re in college n struggling to keep a date.

so he gives you a proposal. a deal, if you will.

izuku tells you that you don’t need to accept, he doesn’t wanna push boundaries, but you wanna hear it out.

when he offers to help you pay for expenses in turn for you looking pretty for him, letting him doll you up and treat you nicely, you tell him you’ll think about it.

it’s embarrassing enough that you were actually considering it—even more embarrassing when you accept it.

how could you not? you were practically struggling on the reef like a fish, living alone in a studio apartment n tryna make it through college.

it was almost laughable.

‘course, in the following weeks, the pro hero says to call him izuku. takes you out to the mall to buy you some nice outfits and smiles at how nervous you are.

he can’t say he didn’t expect it. of course he did, when you two first bumped into each other, you stared like a deer caught in headlights.

izuku can’t say he minded it, though.

it takes months of him eating lunch n dinner with you, dressing you up all nice, treating you as you deserved to be treated, did you entirely get comfortable with him.

it’s around ten pm when you go to izuku’s place, izzy—that’s what you’d been calling him since the third month.

all sweet n soft coming from you. nothing short of gentle and caring, it made izuku melt whenever you called him that.

when you both get to the bedroom you get all shy, toying with the sleeves of the shirt izuku had bought you a few days ago.

your eyes are on the ground n when he asks you what’s wrong, he sees tears well up as you mutter.

“i’m trans.” it comes out small and a little upset, voice on the verge of cracking when you say it.

izuku only tilts his head. “...is that it, honey? i knew that, ‘m not mad.”

the words make you feel embarrassed as the tears threaten to spill from your eyes and izuku has to gently tell you that it’s fine—he can wait until you’re ready to take this a step further.

it takes another couple of weeks until you finally give him the okay.

n when it happens, he’s all soft with you. asking if you were alright, he doesn’t wanna go too fast, and you have to reassure him that you’re fine—jus nervous.

he spends about an hour prepping you, too :(

fingers you and licks at your cute little nub, tells you that you’re bein’ so good, sitting there n looking pretty for him just like he wants.

when izu’s fingers hit that specific spot—the gummy, soft one that makes you squeal and has slick running down his hand—he smiles.

and ugh, he’s so damn nice. gives you soft kisses and tells you that you did good for him, if you’re tired he can stop, he just likes seeing you happy n satisfied :(((

quickly, you shake your head with tears welling up and tell him that you’re fine, you wanna keep going.

and izu, being the whipped dummy that he is, gives you a kiss on the cheek and undoes the nice pair of dress pants he bought for date night cuz it was his day off n he wanted to do somethin’ nice for you.

his dick is nice n fat, a few veins on it with a slight curve.

the tip already has a few beads of pre-cum leakin’ from it and you can feel your poor little hole clench around nothing just at the sight of it.

n when he finally slips just the tip in—he whines. the number one hero fuckin’ whines just from putting the tip in your cunny n it already feels like so much but not enough.

after that, the months pass n now there’s news articles about the cute civilian that pro hero deku always gives kisses to at this certain coffee shop near his agency.

A/N : hihii! just wanted to get this outta my brain, reblogs r appreciated soso much n it’d be cool to have a mutual or two :p

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓶𝓮𝓷: 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝔂𝓲𝓷’ 𝓾𝓹 𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷’

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: If he thought giving into his urges and fucking you at his embassy’s end of year dinner would lend him any relief from your antics, Agent Peña was wildly mistaken. Day two of your weekend getaway brings you the realisation that you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, reader is the ambassadors daughter, thicc age gap [reader is in her early 20s Javi is in his 40s], petnames, cigarette smoking, alcohol consumption, minor drug use, sex under the influence [minor dubcon], daddy issues ™, mommy issues ™, mean!brat tamer!dom!Javi, brat!reader, daddy kink, size kink [javi is describe to be bigger than the reader], degradation, playing footsie, use of clothes as restraints, semi public sex, fucking in the hot tub, thigh riding, one spank, a few slaps [I had to], phone sex, cream pie, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶

Word count: 10.4k

A/N: Part two of the three part getaway series. A long time coming so I hope you enjoy. Things are messier and nastier and only get worse from here. 🫶🐝💗

🍓Part One 🍓Masterlist

Carmen, Carmen

Staying up 'til morning

You twirled the phone cord between your fingers. 

After getting back to your room the previous night you cleaned up and slipped into bed– exhausted and content. The smell of Javier's clary sage and cedarwood perfume insisted on clinging to your skin, despite the fact that you’d showered, and lulled you into a heavy slumber– the cold sheets swallowing you and sending you to dream land. 

The night went mostly peacefully, considering your mind endlessly conjured up images of Agent Peña trying to explain why he missed nearly half of his embassy’s dinner party when all he was required to do was escort you outside for some fresh air. 

As you lay in bed he was likely in front of your father, lying through his teeth about the fact that you weren’t feeling too well, that you had a headache and decided to retire to your room. Pretending like he hadn’t been fingering you under the dinner table, like you didn’t clean his cum off your dress and face minutes ago. The thought made your head spin, and in the best way. The infamous Javier Peña, the man who didn’t let anyone or anything control him– unable to control himself. 

You fell asleep that night feeling like a winner, undefeated, but that was only until you could once again feel the ghost of his touch on your inner thigh, the prickle of his stubble on your cheek, and the brush of his lips against your jaw. The man was haunting you. 

The ac was on full blast, but the room felt hot and muggy. Somewhere along the line you’d tossed your sheets off your body, still asleep but not oblivious to the tension building in your core. 

Images of Agent Peña projected in your closed eyes like a stuttery film reel. In your sleep these images were brief, but vivid, and distinct, and some of them unreal and dream-like. Your imagination took flight, and it wasn’t long before you could almost feel him against you, and his hands were roaming your body, and he was grabbing your hips, and he leaned down and kissed you roughly. You felt his breath on your neck, and his hand slipped between your aching thighs, and – 

You woke up in a cold sweat, and you were sure you could feel your heartbeat caught in your throat. The room around you felt small, and your chest rose and fell uncomfortably as you hit the bed, with uninterrupted force, once again. Shifting about uneasily you could only hope your little indulgent wet dream was an outlier. 

You glanced at the clock beside you. 

6:00 AM 

And that’s how you ended up where you were– scrambling for the phone on the bedside table and impulsively trying to Sherlock Holmes your way into getting Javier’s room number. 

When you first heard his name being called across the reception the previous day you remembered seeing someone toss him the keys to his room. He carried them with him everywhere. Even when he sneaked up beside you back at the restaurant. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing your brain to reconstruct the image of his keychain dangling from his fingertips, trying to form out the room numbers carved into the wood from the blur. You sat there for a good forty seconds, praying for a bible level miracle until from the fuzzy memory you made out the numbers. 

736 

Sure, your plan was far from foolproof, but worst case scenario you’d wake up Noonan or something. There wasn't much to lose. So you twirled the cord between your fingers and listened to the ring of the call. 

The receiver clicked as it was picked up from the other end, a gruff half sleepy voice coming through the static. 

“Buenos días?” you rolled your eyes, even on vacation the man couldn't help but answer so formally. He sounded half dead as is. 

“Relax Agent Peña, you're on vacation.” 

“Jesus Christ-” He breathed in an exasperated sigh, in that half questioning half irate tone. “You sound a little tired. I hope I'm not disturbing you, Agent.” Despite being playful your voice was hushed and thick with sleep. So was his. 

“No no , not at all-” he sighed heavily, tone monotonous, and you heard him fiddle with the phone cord. “I was just running laps around my room.” You rolled your eyes. 

“What's got you up so early babydoll?” The fact that he didn't know immediately why you’d called him at the crack of dawn was beyond you. Did he think you wanted to have a little chit chat? You decided not to mention it. 

“Dreamt ‘about you.” letting out a heavy breath, you sank back against your pillows, letting the sheets swallow you. “‘S that so?” Your words seemed to peak his interest, and despite only having known him a couple of hours you’d figured out there was nothing more effective at accomplishing that task than stroking his ego. 

“Couldn't sleep.” He couldn’t see it, but you pouted nonetheless. 

“Oh yeah? And ya had to wake me up early in the damn morning?” He wasn’t as annoyed as he was a moment ago. His voice was lower, deeper, softer. Something told you he didn't mind. 

“Need you.” 

He chuckled lowly. “Already, babydoll? Barely been ten hours.” The smugness seeped through the phone, you could practically see his cocky smile. If you weren't as desperate as you were you wouldn’t have let it pass. 

“Couldn’t stop thinkin ‘bout you.” It was difficult not to give in quick and easy. You wanted to make him work for it, but that plan only lasted till you heard that voice of his drip like honey through the phone. 

“Thinkin’ bout what?” You heard his sheets shuffle delicately as he presumably propped himself up. That demanding voice had you clenching your thighs together as the ache built. So you relented, telling him what he wanted to hear. It was true either way. “Your cock. How you made me cum.”

“Yeah?” It wasn’t a question. “Thinking about how daddy stretched you open?” The ‘yes’ that escaped your lips was broken, mostly thanks to what he called himself. 

“Insatiable aren't ya babydoll?” His subtle accent seemed a lot more pronounced so early in the morning. Not quite a southern drawl, but flaunting the Texas charm nonetheless. You hummed and fiddled with the hem of your sleepshirt in an attempt to occupy your hands. 

“Yeah, and now you’re all wet ‘n achy?” It was more a statement than a question, one dripping with faux sympathy. You whined another quiet yes, running your cool palms across your inner thighs. It was difficult to relent to his mocking, but you were dripping for him, and you needed the release. 

“Poor little thing…you touch that pretty pussy thinkin’ of how I made y’a come on my cock?” 

“Nuh uh. Didn’t touch.” You said proudly. And you were proud– of your self restraint, not quite proud of how desperate you sounded. He hummed and sounded equally proud. Maybe even a little impressed. He sucked in a breath, and you heard his sheets crinkle again. 

“my cute lil pussy’s drippin all over those panties?” he didn't let you respond. “Or should I ask if my little slut’s even wearing any?” My little slut. He was right. He practically owned your body. You couldn’t even sleep without thinking of him. 

As for your panties, you were, but you wished you werent. You were sure the fabric was soaked, you felt it cling to your core. You wiggled your hips in frustration, desperate for any amount of friction to ease the ache between your thighs. 

He hushed your whines again, the moan slipping past your lips as you squeezed your breast making you sound increasingly incoherent. 

“Not a thought in that head’ve yours huh? can’t even get the words out?” Your hand danced up to run along your upper body, fingers teasing over the swell of your breasts as you sucked in a sharp breath. He wasn’t wrong. 

“S’okay babydoll, you can touch.” you heard him swallow thickly, enough to convey that he might have been just as desperate as you. He heard your huffs through the phone, and in his condescending way shushed you gently.  “Tell me how wet ya’ are f’ me baby, feel how wet y’are f’daddy”  

He didn't need to ask twice. With your lust blown gaze tilted downwards your fingers danced across the skin of your inner thighs. They brushed the hem of your panties as you dipped your hand between your legs, teasing yourself with feather light touches.

An obscene moan bubbled in your throat as you ran a finger over your throbbing slit. Your panties were soaked, barely a barrier between your fingers and your aching pussy.  

“Hmm so wet daddy, ruined em.” it took every fiber in your being to resist the urge to pull them aside, your voice higher than it usually was. 

“I know babydoll, I know.” his faux sympathy had your breath hitching. “Imagine how wet you were for me last night.” The thought made you shudder. If you thought you were on edge you couldn’t imagine just how hot you were when he was around. Reminders of the night before sparked in your head. 

You rubbed yourself over your thin cotton panties. “Feel how wet you were ‘round my cock?”

“Jus’ for you..” He hummed in satisfaction, and you once again heard his sheets shuffling. “That's right baby, just for daddy.” He hummed. “Thinkin’ bout that cute lil face of yours, fuck. Those pretty eyes lookin’ up at me.” 

You recalled him above you the previous night as you kneeled in front of him, your lips wrapped around his thick cock as you gazed up at him. 

“Daddy need your cock..” your thighs closed around your hand, your digits drenched in your slick. You heard him curse under is breath, the unmistakable sound of his hand on his cock filling your ears. 

“Ohh- fuck, rub that pretty lil clit for me babydoll” You pulled your panties aside, finally letting your fingers meet your weeping core. You started slow, following the low hum of his voice as it emanated through the phone speaker. 

“Feel good?’ Closing your eyes you nodded–  imagined him laying on his bed, on his back, eyes screwed shut as he tried his best to decipher your breathy sighs through the phone. You hated giving into him, confessing how much you ached and longed for him, but you just couldn’t help yourself– especially when he rewarded you. You shuddered as you teased your clit. 

The image had you lost in your own head for a few seconds. 

“Use your words, slut” he sternly reprimanded. The world felt like it was spinning, and you only got more light headed when you let him take control. “not as good as yours.”  The cotton of your panties clung messily to your wet cunt as you pulled them off, sliding them down your legs and off your ankles.

“Fuck babydoll”  He sighed in aproval, “can see ya already, hand between those pretty thighs.” The fact that he could imagine you with your hand between your legs in nothing but your sleepshirt, as you thought of all the things you wanted him to do to you drove you wild. 

There was nothing more exhilarating than being the subject of his dirty fantasy. 

“Fuck yourself with your fingers” You pushed a finger in your dripping hole, sighing and letting your head rest back against your pillows. They didn’t feel like his, not quite hitting the spots he did the previous night, not stretching you open. Desperately needing to feel full you were quick to slide another finger in your aching cunt. 

As if he could read your mind he was quick to interrupt you. “Just one” his voice was strained but just as commanding and stern as before. “Don't be a greedy slut, now” Whining, you wanted to protest, but something about his tone forced you into submission. 

He hummed at your obedience, indulging you a little .“Feel how tight you were around me?”

“Fuck, bet those lil fingers dont feel as good as daddys do they? I know babydoll, wish I could take care of that pretty pussy..” he bit back a breathy moan “Yeah, they look better wrapped ‘round daddy's cock huh?” In no time your soft fingers moved back to circling your clit, and you felt that tight knot build in your core.

“Yes daddy, ahh, please.” You heard his breath quicken, you could almost feel it tickle the nape of your neck. You did miss him, you missed the way he engulfed you in his big arms, how he liked to rag doll you around, and force the brat out of you. 

“Give yourself another baby..”

Your hips hurt, you felt like jello, hot to the touch. Your mind wandered further as you fucked yourself with your fingers– what it would feel like to have your legs on either side of his thighs, his hands grabbing and kneading the flesh of your hips like he had the previous night.

You didn't even realize how loud you were being, a string of incoherent noises slipping past your lips as the tension built in your belly. You wouldn’t have realized if Javier hadn’t angrily bit through the phone. “Shut that whore mouth of yours. Wouldn't want your pops hearing you moan like a lil slut.”

It only made you ache more. “Should’ve bent ya over my knee at that table, showed him what a dirty little girl ya’are.” your skin going hot and cunt throbbing around your fingers at his obscene words. 

“Could teach him a thing or two about instilling good manners huh?” Javier could teach him a thing or two about quite a lot to be honest, and the thought made you crave him even more than you already did. The line crackled gently as he panted, and you imagined him thrusting into his fist as he thought of you.

“Maybe ya’ wouldn’t have turned out such a fuckin’ brat.” your movements sped up. “dirty lil girl, gettin fucked by a guy twice her age.”

“Can fuckin hear it.” his breath quickened. “Dirty little thing, ya’ liked that didn’t ya’? Can fuckin hear how bad ya’ need it.”  He growled, and once again you could make out the sound of his hand over his cock just barely over the static. 

“Don’t worry babydoll, gonna take care of that tight lil cunt.”  You felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of your forehead.  

“daddy ahh-” how words caught up with you, had your jaw dropping open. He knew what he was doing, and he made sure to let you know he did. “Dirty lil thing. Close huh baby?”

You could only moan and whine, unable to form a coherent sentence that conveyed just how badly you needed to cum. You were so close, far too close to hold back any longer. That of course, didn’t sit well with Javier. 

“If ya tryin’ to convince me, it aint workin. Use your damn words whore.”

Your movements were quick and sloppy, eyes fluttering shut and head tilting side to side as you neared your release. “Daddy want it”  You bit the words out, hips wiggling atop your sheets as they attempted to meet your hand. 

“Look at that, ya missed the magic word baby.” he chuckled darkly. “Know you want it babydoll, but it don't matter, you take what I give ya’, don’t you?” 

You whined, and kicked your legs delicately, frustrated at how unyielding he was. You could barely form the words. 

“Please daddy, wanna cum, please, need it so bad.”  you paused momentarily, voice small and desperate and breathy, “please lemme cum daddy..” Good manners always seemed to work with Javier 

“That's it. Good little slut.” he hissed, rather urgently as he tried to suppress a groan.  “Ohh Fuck. cum for me, cum for daddy.” He sounded as close as you did. 

The line went silent, and you imagined Javier on the other side trying desperately to hear your whines. His drawn out groan was the last straw, accompanied by the mental image of him spilling all over his fist– the one you had playing in your mind as a loop. 

“Daddy, gon- gonna cum- ah-” Your back arched off the mattress, eyes squeezing shut and jaw going slack. Your walls squeezed and throbbed around your fingers as you came in a wordless cry. 

“Ohh fuck babydoll.” His voice just barely got picked up by the receiver. You lost track of the obscenities that left his mouth as he neared his release, a stray “babydoll” lost in the mix of snarls and grunts. You would have given anything to see him as he was– on his back, his thick cock in hand, eyes screwed shut and brows furrowed. You would have given anything to have your lips wrapped around him again. You felt your pussy clench and pulse around your digits. 

There was a distinct lack of air in your lungs, and you struggled to catch your breath as you lay back against the sheets. You bit your lip as you heard him catch his breath. You’d just gotten off, but if you could you knew you’d be right at his door if he asked you in a moment's notice. 

His voice cut through your thoughts. “Thanks for the wake up call.” you imagined how he was likely running a hand through that soft brown hair of his, you could make out the action from his strained voice. 

“You're welcome” there was a short pause. Your brain buzzed, working overtime. Now far less anguished than you were before your snappy mouth was back at it. “And daddy?” you hovered your finger over the disconnect button, unwilling to let him have just a moment's peace. 

“Babydoll?” his ears perked up everytime that word slipped past your lips. Your very own Pavlov’s bell. You imagined his raised brows, big brown eyes hopeful, and probably far less droopy then when he first picked up the phone.  

“Don't be late, wouldn’t want the ambassador to get worried.” you pressed the button, the beep that followed returning you to your deafening and lonely silence. 

—

Only seventeen, 

but she walks the streets so mean

It was extremely odd to see the embassy employees all in beach shorts, flip flops, and Hawaiian shirts. It was jarring. Like when you saw your teachers out of school. People funneled in one by one for breakfast. Since their bosses couldn’t seem to leave them alone for more than a couple of hours at a time, they managed to make an event out of it. 

You walked in beside your father, who had his phone plastered to his ear, and had decided his life’s mission was to keep his line busy as to avoid your mother’s incessant calling. Still blissed out from the morning, and in a considerably better mood than the night before, you decided to ignore the drama intermittently. 

From the entrance of the restaurant you spotted Javier in the large open space facing the beach, in a white shirt, and black shorts. The shirt managed to be simultaneously too tight on his bulging arms, and slightly loose around his torso. It looked criminally soft, and was unbuttoned just enough to expose his tan chest, and give off the impression that he’d just rolled out of bed. Boy did you know that wasn’t true. He was sharing a cigarette with Colleen again, and was anxiously fiddling with the sunglasses atop his head between drags. 

His eyes caught you as you moseyed your way to your table. Commendably, he tried not to be as obvious undressing you with his eyes this time, probably because you were standing right next to your father, who was himself, trying to suppress the glare he was tempted to shoot the agent. The man was in a bad mood and it wasn’t even nine yet. 

The table was narrow, but might have been the longest one you’d ever seen in real life. It was a nightmare, trapping you between whoever you had the misfortune of being seated beside. You wished it was a buffet, at least it would give you an excuse to escape to grab refills. 

You took your seat, sandwiched between your father and Maria. Only one side of your arrangement was agreeable. You felt a tad bit better when Agent Peña eased in right opposite you. 

By the looks of it Javier was just as unenthused about the seating arrangements. In reality he had it a lot worse than you did– Owen to his left Stechner to his right. He’d even been separated from poor Colleen who had the misfortune of being stuck next to chatty deputy Neil. The only two things that made a DEA agent bearable were their general charm and ability to make conversation. Deputy Neil had neither of those things. 

After having skipped the previous night's meal thanks to Javier and having survived on the snacks stacked in your room, you were looking forward to breakfast. To Javier’s dismay however, no amount of hunger– of any kind and any severity was enough to quell your antics. 

Owen pulled his chair out, patting Javier on the back as he took a seat. The latter practically recoiled from the touch, but smiled politely anyway. It was admirable– his ability to not let these freaks get to him. There was not one tolerable person in his periphery besides Steve Murphy, who had been working pretty much independently since he was appointed to attaché, and yet the man showed up everyday, slept with any willing woman, and lived his life. He didn't care for their validation, approval, or acceptance, and it was perhaps exactly that that made them hate him as much as they did. 

You watched him interact with his colleagues, far more up close this time. The scowl he famously sported deep set on his face, arms leaned on the table and on either side of his cutlery. As always he was commanding, and resolute, delivering responses to pesky questions with far more patience and authority than you had expected. You clenched you thighs under the table. 

Conversation moved on and it wasn’t long before he fixed his eyes on your platinum chainlet, on the blue diamond hanging from your neck. He seemed to like it. Or maybe he liked how your tits looked in that dress. You were almost completely sure it was the latter, Javier Peña was no gemologist.

“Buenos días, tío.” Maria leaned to your side obnoxiously to catch his prying eyes as she took her seat beside you at the table. 

“Buenos días, ria.” Javier turned his head briefly and put on a tight smile. Idiot. There really was nothing in that head of his. If he thought he was doing a good job not arousing anyones suspicions he was sorely mistaken. The former pinched your leg under the table, and rolled her eyes at what she liked to call your “nauseating arrangement” with her godfather. 

Breakfast started with fruit, and boy did it look heavenly– practically every color of the rainbow on your plate. You popped a strawberry in your mouth, only half paying attention to the tremendously boring conversation you were unfortunate enough to be stuck in the middle of. 

You were certainly distracted, enough in fact to have only noticed minutes later that you were not the only one not paying attention. Agent Peña seemed to be rather preoccupied with your eating, enough so that he had to quite literally be shaken out of his daze to participate in the rest of the table's conversation. 

You watched the way his eyes kept drifting back to the way your lips wrapped around the fruit, how you’d bite into it slowly, and dart your tongue over your lips. He was shameless and importantly he was just begging  for a show. 

And who were you to say no to the great, the ever important DEA attaché Javier Peña? You caught and then pretty much forced his eyes to yours from across the table. If the man wanted peace, he was not making it easy on himself. He was trying to be nonchalant about the whole situation, but he was admittedly shit at it. 

Rubbing his temples with his index and thumb he tried desperately to hide his face as he watched you take a bite of the dragon fruit you had stabbed with your fork– eyes trained on the way the pink juice escaped your lips and dripped down your chin. You watched his gaze darken in warming, and it made your breath hitch to think about just how he wanted to set you straight. 

You licked your lips, reaching for the white table napkin and watching it stain pink as you dabbed away. You watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed nervously, and shot him the sweetest smile you could muster. You knew where his mind was, you knew he was thinking about the way you’d wrapped your lips around his cock the night before, around his fingers, and tasted him on your tongue. You were sure of it when he shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and politely asked your dad to repeat himself as he tried his best to engage in the conversation. 

By the time the waitress came along offering water he was practically dying to get out of the table. For someone who had been so courageous the night before he was blushing like a schoolboy. Now that he was on the spot his pda policy was changing. You weren't even touching him yet. 

The waitress leaned down beside you, and offered you regular and ice water. From the corner of your eye you watched Javier's face as you opted for the second option. Of course you asked for ice. What was he expecting? For you to give it up because he couldn't get his mind out of the gutter? In that weather? He was delusional. 

You took a sip and held the cube between your teeth, he watched it start to melt as it brushed your warm lips. You sucked on the cube, lewdly eyeing him and leaning your hands against the table. Your tongue brushed your bottom lip. 

“Agent Peña, you’ve met him before haven’t you?” 

Javier cleared his throat, then forced his eyes away from your supple lips to answer your father’s tedious questions. 

Poor man, he just couldn’t catch a break 

But he wasn’t on a break, he was still technically at work, and who were you to deal with, compared to all those scary, dangerous, criminals he spent all day with. Surely, you weren’t affecting him all that much?

Your lip tugged into a gentle smile as you watched him clear his throat in a rather obvious indication for you to get a grip. But that was no fun now was it? You stretched your leg under the table, tapping Javier’s calf with the arch of your foot. It didn't take much effort, his long legs already far closer to yours than he would have preferred for this particular situation. It was all meant to be really, the table could have been any length, yet here it was, so awfully narrow that just a minor stretch of your leg would have your soft skin brushing against his. 

He visibly flinched, and to anyone paying attention probably looked like a man possessed– responding to the apparent touches of a ghost that had snuck their way between his legs. 

But to his dismay he wasn't dealing with a ghost. He was dealing with you, and you had decided you liked the way your leg felt slanted between his, the way his skin felt as you trailed your foot along it. 

He was lucky no one ever paid attention. 

You glanced at the ambassador, who was ever engrossed in his interrogation of Javier’s deputy. If he was smart he would have noticed Peña hadn’t taken one trip out of the resort– clearly getting his fill right where he was. If he was smart enough he would have noticed the fact that you were playing footsie with his attaché under the table.

Most of breakfast passed in slow, agonising torture. With your eyes trained on his as you teased him unrelentingly. Just like he had the night before he was pained by your actions, just itching to get out of his seat and smack some sense into you. 

At one point you accidentally dropped your napkin under the table, and as you bent down to fetch it took the liberty to run your fingers against his calf when you dragged the napkin back up with you. When you looked at him once again he was a little short of red in the face.

If anything he should have been thanking you. 

You knew better than anyone the world of elitist superficiality, pseudo intellectualistic hacks, and narcissistic bureaucrats, all trying to climb the ladder. Hell you lived with one 18 years of your life. Javier could do with a little distraction. 

Your phone buzzed on the table beside your pink stained napkin. 

It was, of course, your mother. And she was of course, demanding the details of your return home. Details that you didn’t have. Details that the ambassador had likely not even clarified yet. But then again your mother didn’t care about the details. She wanted something, and the rule was that she always got it. With no care of who got stuck in the crossfire. 

The information was completely useless to her, but that wasn’t the point. She didn’t want it for practicality, she wanted it because she wanted control. 

You wanted to ask why she didn't ask him herself, but you already knew the answer. Nothing was new, you were their messenger. It felt like a cruel trap to force you into keeping contact with either of them. 

As much as you would have liked to continue bothering Javier with your under the table antics, you knew the task at hand was top priority, and that as much as you didn’t want to engage him, you were better off just clarifying the details with your father, and sending your mother along her merry way, knowing she had control over the both of you in some form or the other. 

You watched your dad as he leaned towards his deputy, mentioning something about the budget. 

“Dad-” 

You opened your mouth once again, only to be interrupted and ignored. 

“D-”

If there wasn’t a plate in front of you you’d have slammed your head right into the table. 

It went on for a good thirty seconds, you trying to catch his attention in the midst of something that would be, to anyone else, rather unimportant. But work was important, more important than whatever you had to say. In a moment you felt like that five year old kid again, tugging at his sleeve and trying to drag him to that thing you wanted to show him. 

It was humiliating, and pathetic, but it was more pathetic that you still cared, like some child. So you exhaled, struggling and rolling your eyes at Colleen as if to indicate you weren't as bothered by the situation as you were, who gave you a knowing sympathetic smile. 

Generally, you didn’t make a habit of making conversation with him in public, or in groups. He was constantly preoccupied, and no matter what you did you’d end up wasting upwards of ten minutes trying to get his attention. If it wasn't as time sensitive as it was you’d let him drone on, but you also realized leaving your mother out of the loop would only be another thing you needed to worry about. At the end of the day what did it matter to him, he’d be oblivious whilst you dealt with the complaining and whining.

Suddenly, you felt a brush of a foot against the inside of your calf, gently, up and down. Javier wedged his leg between yours, bumping your knee ever so slowly with his.  When you looked up at him he was listening to your dad. He stopped your restless legs, gently soothing their movement with each brush of his skin against yours, gaze still fixed on the conversation at hand. 

You felt your eyes burn with hot tears as he dragged his foot along your calf, then continued to bump his knee with yours, his eyes unmoving as if nothing had happened. His touch was soft, and gentle, and barely there like the night before, just this time there was nothing sexual about it. 

You pulled your leg back, folding your napkin and excusing yourself to get ready for the day. You felt his eyes follow you out of the restaurant.

—

It's alarming, truly

How disarming you can be

Eatin’ soft ice cream, 

Coney Island queen 

It had been a couple of hours since breakfast. You’d traded in your summer sun dress for a bathing suit and tie around, its sparkles twinkling against the glow of the sun. 

Despite how much he seemed to be excited to indulge you that morning you’d think you’d never met, forget fucked Javier the way he was avoiding you. He tried to be subtle about it, occupying himself in conversations with everyone from the embassy receptionist to the ambassador. 

Hell he even decided to join in the DEA volleyball game, the one that was happening right across from where you’d splayed out your beach blanket along with your friends. Just close enough to let him enjoy the view, but not close enough to arouse any suspicions. 

The sun beat down on his golden skin. This was probably the most you’d seen him interact with the other DEA folks. By the looks of it they were just as surprised as you were to find him joining in. If only they knew. 

The dirty old man. 

Truth be told, as shameless as you were, you felt a little pervy looking at him the way you were, you wondered how he had the confidence. Each second you passed gawking at his broad frame, the way he seemed to get just a little bit aggressive when the game picked up pace. It felt like something you shouldn't have been doing in public. But since when did you care about that? You imagined what he would say to you if you were alone, how he’d tease and reprimand you for your staring. 

“Just couldn’t keep your eyes off could you?”

“Desperate slut.”

He was one to talk. The man was far more of a slut than you could ever dream to be, and here he was calling you a whore. 

He wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Stay far away and preserve his sanity, but also secretly indulge in whatever perverted fantasy he had swimming in his head.

He took his little half time game break to discreetly watch you lather on your sunscreen, the way your hands roamed your body, down your bare legs and shoulders. You put on a little bit of a show, inching your hands under your tie around and towards your inner thighs. He’d called you a whore less than twelve hours ago but the man couldn't keep it in his pants for 10 minutes. 

He did not look pleased. Not when he wasn’t the only one who could enjoy the view. Those junior agents of his had been watching you like a hound of hungry dogs. If there was one thing he couldn’t seem to handle, it was a bunch of mid twenty nobodies who could barely last twenty seconds eyeing what was his. 

Your father made his way to the makeshift court just in time for a second game, to Javier’s dismay. He peeled his eyes away from you, reaching out to shake the ambassador’s hand and pass him the ball. 

You watched from a distance as the two of them engaged in friendly banter, how Javier had managed to figure out your biggest irk in less than forty eight hours of knowing you was honestly impressive. He praised your fathers great service skills as the two racked up points on the scoreboard, sharing high fives and pats on the back. It was sickening. The coward didn’t even have the courage to look you in the eye in front of your father, and then decided his MO was playing best friend with him all afternoon. 

You leaned back on your beach blanket, staring the sun right in its white face and hoping it would burn your retinas enough so that you’d never have to see that bastard with that man again. This whole thing was one thousand times less fun when Javier was getting along with your father. 

You rolled your eyes under the cover of your sunglasses.

—

She says, "You don't want to be like me

Lookin' for fun, gettin' high for free

I'm dyin', I'm dyin'"

She says, "You don't want to get this way

Street walk at night and a star by day

It's tirin', tirin'"

You’d spent your day enduring the most obscene questions from your friends, all excited and far more interested than you’d initially assumed to know every gorey detail of your little adventure with Javier. 

The drinks went down one after the other, you didn't even notice the sun had set. Javier remained out of sight, and you guessed it was a good thing, because you’d have jumped him the first chance you got. 

First to give him a piece of your mind, and then to let him fuck you sensless. 

It was ironic, popping gummies with a DEA agent on your mind. But Sophie had offered you some, and after a long day of thinking far too much about far too many things you decided it was a good idea to relax a little. 

As had become routine the music from the beach side restaurant preoccupied you as you sat in the hottub, muscles taking a moment to untense under the water and bubbles. Your father had a private dinner with the former ambassadors that evening, but said it would be better if you didn’t tag along. They were going to talk business and it would bore you. 

You were grateful, but probably not as much as the rest of the embassy, who could enjoy their night in peace. 

The effects of the gummies were kicking in, and if you thought Javier consumed your thoughts before, his name was pretty much playing on loop in your head now. It had been a while since everyone retreated to their rooms, exhausted and far too intoxicated to be laying about in the hot tub. You knew he was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Further muddy his reputation and risk his career or deprive himself of the joys of being with you. 

You reached for your phone behind you, clicking it on and squinting your eyes on the time. 

2:00 am. 

You lit a cigarette, swinging your legs under the water and watching the moonlight illuminate your skin. 

Part of the reason you tagged along this drag of a vacation in the first place was because you didn't want to wile away your summer, fearing staying at home you’d be cooped up in your room all day. But here you were half way through the weekend, wondering where the time went. 

“Shouldn’t be smokin so much” He had a way of sneaking up on people, that Javier Peña. A regular entrance seemed to be just too mediocre for him. Frankly, you admired his love, or rather his addiction, to chaos. How in the world someone like him ended up a narc was still a mystery to you. 

“You an activist all of a sudden?” You were turned away from him, but rolled your eyes non the less. You heard him sigh, and with your back still turned to him you heard him take a step or two towards you, then stop, sigh defeatedly and continue forward. The man was fighting himself, and it was far more entertaining to you than it should have been. 

Turning to face him you leaned your elbows on the uneven stone that formed the deck of the hot tub, knees tucked under you as you sat atop the step leading into the water. He was still in his shorts from the morning, but had lazily half buttoned on his white cotton shirt from under which your eyes caught the mild sunburn on his exposed chest.  

Squatting down to your level he let his eyes linger on your barely covered chest– on the diamond pendant that twinkled in the sun, and had caught his attention on that first day in the lobby. It sparkled against the cut of your breasts, floating in the blue water and brushing against your skin. 

“This is not going to work if you keep sucking the ambassador's dick.” 

“yeah , this-” he pointed between your bodies. “needs to stop.” The water rippled gently, much to the disappointment of Javier, whose eyes were trained on the distorted image of your body under the surface as you waded your way between his legs. He made space for you to come closer, but didn’t indulge you any further. 

“But why?” You didn't really mean to, but you ended up dragging the ‘why’ out to the point you sounded like a desperate, pathetic mess. He almost flinched when you reached your hand forward, fingertips tracing soft shapes on his skin, right up to the hem of his black pool shorts. Then again, despite seemingly wanting nothing to do with you he moved just that little bit closer. Just enough to give himself away. 

In an attempt to crumble his resolve you leaned your cheek against his thigh, pouting up at his yearning gaze. “Didn’t ya’ like it daddy?!”

He sucked in a breath. “Dont want your pops wondering who the fuck you’ve been callin’ daddy.” he looked around and then leaned closer. “cuz’ it sure as hell ain’t him.” You felt you skin heat, the subtle throb between your legs building. 

“Since when do you give a shit what the ambassador thinks?” you pressed your lips to his skin, the faint aroma of his sunscreen invading your senses. Javier looked at you incredulously, but you were too dizzy to care. 

“He's my boss, babydoll.” You giggled in response, dragging your lips against his inner thigh. Just as it was the night before the immediate and very real thrill of what you were doing and who you were doing it with persuaded you to keep going. 

“But don’t you want to daddy?” your eyes fluttered shut as you spoke, words coming out slurred between your pouted lips. If getting high made you anything, it was seemingly desperate for Javier. You leaned your head against his thigh once again, resting it there as you gazed up at him through glossy eyes, meeting his gaze for the first time that night. 

Admittedly, it was not a good idea. You shouldn't have expected otherwise from a DEA agent. 

“Are-” He squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and index, dragging you off his thigh till you were inches away from his face. “Are you fucking high?!” He was stuck somewhere between furious, surprised and in disbelief– eyes incredulously searching your glazed ones. Closing the gap between you, you pecked him on the lips, making sure to accentuate the obnoxious ‘mwah’ sound you were for some reason, in your delirious and giggly mood, compelled to make. 

“Just a little…”

You didn't believe his good employee act. A man so consumed by all things pleasure, one of the most hedonistic people you'd ever met, and he supposedly never smoked a joint? The man was a liar and you could see right through it. 

You’d push that button another day though. 

You giggled, tilting your head and taunting him. “Are you going to arrest me, officer?” 

“I ain’t an officer babydoll.” He rolled his eyes, tapping your cheek roughly. Everywhere he touched left you wanting more. 

“Babydoll this, babydoll that, you're boring me Agent Peña.” Your lust blown eyes searched for him and you leaned your body, dripping with water, against his. He didn't seem to mind, legs unfolding till he was seated with his feet in the hottub. 

“You know you're a lot like your father.” he narrowed his eyes and seethed, still letting you press your face into his shoulder as you tucked yourself into his side. The thought was nauseating, but you were glad if he passed you down anything it was his stubbornness. 

“Oh really? Dont tell me you wanna fuck him too?” You lifted your head and sank back into the water, just in time to watch him rub his eyes in exhaustion. 

“No, but you sure as hell like bossin’ me around.” 

Tilting your head you rose to your knees. ““I'm not the one who keeps crawling back for more” you trailed a finger across his chest “you’re here, aren’t you agent? out of your own violation?” His eyes were fixated on the swell of your breasts, but moved to your face as he grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Hmm, didn't look like that when you were gawking at me this morning.” his nose brushed yours. 

“Was returning the favor.” you shifted to whisper beside his ear. “God knows this isn't a part of your job.” You had been quite bold sober, but the intoxication seemed to aid your snappy mouth. 

You caught the twinkle in his eyes again– the one you’d seen the first night, back at breakfast and at the beach. That look of his he gave you as a warning not to push his buttons. “Keep runnin that mouth babydoll. Let's see where it gets ya” 

He fixed his gaze on your face as you reached for the buttons of his shirt. You fiddled with them, undoing them as slow as you could possibly manage. After he’d been getting an eyeful of you over the past two days you were quite satisfied to have him as exposed as you were. 

He inched closer, easing himself into warm water, one hand on your waist the other on the granite behind him . He was finally at your level, close enough for you to pepper kisses along his sunburned chest. He hissed at the contact, sucking in a breath as he felt your lips, cool from the ice in your drink, ease the subtle burn. 

His neck, his chest, you left practically no part of him untouched. Your hand sneaked up his leg as you palmed the bulge in his shorts. You watched him hiss, bit your lip in satisfaction when he could barely get your name out of his mouth. 

You shifted to straddle his thigh, sighing at the temporary relief to the pressure building between your legs. “Don’t seem so mad to me, agent Peña..” He scoffed, but didn’t do anything to stop your actions. 

The urge to push his buttons ran high, and you knew only good could come from you indulging it. Unable to hold back any further you shamelessly rolled your hips against him, sighing at the subtle relief it brought to your aching center. 

Swallowing your moan in a kiss he played with the side of your bikini bottoms, toying with it. His hands slipped under the fabric, thumbs brushing against the swell of your ass. 

Now soaked with your slick, it did little to cover your aching pussy. You squealed when you felt him slip his hand between your bodies, yanking the pathetic excuse of a cover up aside to let you press your bare cunt against his thigh. 

“You’re not as scary as you make yourself out to be, aren’t you, daddy?” 

He guided your hips over his thigh, agonizingly slow, the wet friction on your clit enough to have you pressing against him in further desperation.  “‘Ya’ can’t even help yourself huh babydoll?” he growled in your ear, taking your earlobe gently between his teeth. 

The heat traveled up your neck, scorching your skin till it reached your cheeks. The soft skin of your inner thigh continuously brushed against the threaded lower seam of his shorts, getting increasingly tender with every pass. 

He squeezed your breast as flexed his thigh, each pass of your cunt sending your eyes rolling back into your head. Agent Peña was enjoying himself just as much as you were, no matter how much he refused to admit it. 

You were delirious, drunk literally and on pleasure as the words left your mouth– soft and slurred. “Knew you were full’ve shit, Agent Peña.” 

His hands stilled you on his thigh, his face hardened, palm coming down to meet the side of your face swifty before you could even realize what happened. You felt you pussy clench pathetically around nothing. 

Sure, he liked the control, boy did you figure that out the hard way, but it seemed like he had a no tolerance policy when it came to back talk. He had to have known that your biggest motivation to do anything you’d been doing was to get a rise out of him– his scolding, his ‘putting you in your place’, was not so much a punishment as it was a reward. 

You squirmed against his newly found grip on your waist, his words and the sting on your cheek only prompting you to attempt to rub yourself against him once again. Javier was not going to let that happen. “Watch that whore mouth of yours.” 

With his thumb and index on either side of your face he shook you slightly from side to side, his other palm coming down against the side of your face once more. 

On command, and somehow a little out of your control, a soft “sorry daddy” slipped past your lips, hands going to snake around his waist for a sense of comfort. Javier liked being mean sometimes, and you never knew it better than when in an attempt to put you in your place his palm struck your sore cheek once again. 

Whining at his actions you grabbed the fabric of his unbuttoned shirt, tugging him closer impossibly. “Your pops didn’t teach you any manners did he?” he tutted at you, stroking your head in a surprising display of gentleness. It still, however, dripped with condescension and mockery. 

The sting on the side of your face felt like it was burning, but he didn't seem to care. You felt the desire bubble further in your core.  “Don't you worry babydoll, daddy’ll make sure you behave” he landed a firm spank to your ass, making you yelp and fall forward into his chest. 

“Someone’s gotta fuckin’ look out for you,” Smiling, he pinched the cheek he’d just slapped, seemingly enjoying your little “ow”s. “cuz your old man sure doesn’t. ain’t that right babydoll?” Hot tears pricked your eyes, making them flutter shut at the sting. You turned your face as he planted a soothing kiss below your ear. 

Javier took your chin between his fingers, directing your face down to where you were straddling his lap. His free hand snaked between your bodies to cup your barely clothed mound. 

“This tight lil pussy’s mine. Only daddy gets to make her feel good, fuck her.” He rubbed soft circles on your clit, making your hips shift to feel the little friction. His actions had you far more desperate than before. “When she feels good, ‘s cuz daddy’s lettin’ her.” He murmured darkly, sparkling brown eyes raised in a subtle warning towards yours. “Ya hear?” 

You nodded, but he only landed another spank to your ass, prompting you to use your words. 

“Daddy decides.” He leaned forward, large palm once again capturing your face. 

“What was that? Know you can be louder babydoll–” he squeezed your cheeks harder, biting out his words. “heard it last night.” 

Mewling, you repeated yourself– this time louder, but also feeling smaller. His skin felt warm as you leaned your now tender cheek against it in an attempt to get back into his good graces. 

“That's better, ain't that right?” Javier smiled gently, hands guiding you over his thigh once again. “So much better when you listen huh?” You could only manage to nod. 

“All this just for some attention, huh babydoll?” he brushed his knuckles against your soft skin. He talked down to you, patronizing you, but it only made bare down on his thigh harder. “Fuckin’ pathetic.” 

Your lips turned to a downward tilt. He matched your pout, still stroking your skin. “Hate to see it don't ya? pretty little thing like you, whoring herself around” he brought your hand to his hard cock, letting you rub him over his shorts. 

‘Like a free use hooker.” You felt your pussy twitch at his words, at the way he chuckled darkly before he spoke again. 

“Could give the girls at the brothel a run for their money.” 

Rather haphazardly, he pulled you to straddle his lap, a new sense of urgency taking over in the wake of your mild submission. You felt his hard length press against your pussy and shuddered. 

“Want it inside, daddy, please” That white cotton shirt of his you so loved was discarded and tossed to the side of the deck in seconds, letting your hands roam freely across his body– grab onto his broad shoulders. 

“I know baby” he stroked your arm gently. “Just needed daddy’s attention” You resumed softy grinding against him, his hands once again taking hold of your hips. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes, letting the quaint atmosphere of the sleeping resort shift you in your own little private universe for the time being. All was lost in the mix of tempered moans and sighs, your delirious state only heightening the pleasure. 

Javier’s hand slipped up your back, under the band of your bikini top to unclasp it discreetly. You would have barely noticed if it wasn't for how he groaned as he slipped it off you, palm immediately moving to palm and squeeze your breasts. He kissed up your bare stomach, then your collar bones, letting you press your lips to his when you urged his face up to yours. 

He always tasted the same– cigarettes and whiskey. You could get used to it if you were being honest. He was drowning you in his presence, when he was around nothing else seemed to matter besides getting him inside you, or getting on his nerves. You wondered if you really had as much power over him as you thought you did. 

You kicked yourself for being so oblivious and distracted. Before you knew it the strings of your bikini top were being slipped off their clasps and being used to bind your hands together. The guy was a cop, and probably a pretty good boy scout guessing from the unmoving boxknot he made at the back of your wrists. The string was tight, any of your movements prompting an unfavorable friction against your skin. 

You felt him smile against your cheek as you pulled back, twisting your body side to side in an attempt to free yourself. Your face burned in humiliation as he chuckled at your futile attempts, and frustrated huffs. 

“Told ya baby..” 

“You are such a dick.” Humming, he pulled you down onto his lap further, dragging your dripping cunt against his cock. “You’ve gotten lucky tonight, brat..” 

With your hands tied behind your back there was no choice. You had two options, sink back and let your head fall under the water, or sit pretty for him on his lap. The time of your bratting around was far from over, but you let him have his little measly victory. 

He lined his thick cock up with your warm center, teasing your aching hole and just barely pushing in. “You gonna be a brat the rest of the night?”

You squirmed, shaking your head vigorously. “You gonna stop being such a fuckin slut? Runnin’ ya hands all over yourself at the beach-” He pushed in just a little bit further, his tip breaching your warm center. “Givin’ those boys a show?” 

You blubbered out an urgent “no daddy”, shifting side to side as you screwed your eyes shut in frustration. You could barely take it any longer. From the way Javier had his eyes trained on you it seemed like neither could he. 

With a deep but broken groan he pushed inside you in a single swift thrust, stretching you open on his thick cock. It was a relief to be full again, the sensation ghosting over you since the last time. His hands smoothed up and down your thighs under the water, squeezing the flesh of your ass till you yelped. 

“Think your pops out there? Walkin’ round, tryna figure out where the fuck you disappeared?” He growled in your ear, obviously proud of himself beyond measure. His cock was nestled deep in your pussy, shallow thrusts hitting that sweet spot inside you you could barely reach in the morning. 

“thinks I'm sleepin.” you panted. You felt him twitch inside you. 

“Dirty little girl.” He laughed mockingly, then met your hips in a harsh thrust. You rested your forehead against his, letting him place kisses to your slack lips and watch your eyes flutter shut. 

You felt small in his lap, engulfed by his presence and broad shoulders, onto which you attempted to rest your head against as your hips rose and fell over his. You nipped the underside of his jaw, then pressed a kiss there. “Little brat” 

The water made a seductive splashing sound as you shifted. Anyone in the vicinity would be immediately privy to what exactly was going on. The mix of alcohol, drugs and Javier’s hands on your body spread a fuzzy tingle across your skin. 

Your lips parted in a wordless cry, you were so so close. 

“Such a good little slut when you finally fuckin’ listen” his cock hits your sweetspot in the perfect angle as he rocks his hips up into you. You’re barely doing any work, letting him use you as you sit on his lap. 

“Gonna ruin this pretty lil body for all those boys. Fuck you like you need.” He grunted in your ear, throbbing and pulsing inside you. “Cuz on one else can babydoll.” 

The coil in your belly was quick to tighten, you felt your walls quiver around his cock as you began to cum. You bit down on his shoulder as you came undone, trying your best to stay quiet amongst the sound of bubbling water, crashing waves and chirping crickets. He fucked you through it, groaning as he felt your pussy suck him in. 

Javier was quick to follow, thrusts getting shallow and sloppy as he fucked into your wet heat, an incoherent “babydoll” falling from his mouth as he painted your pulsing walls with his warmth. 

The sound of crashing waves seemed deafening as you both caught your breath, the certain mess you’d made on his lap not bothering you at the moment. You were still imobile thanks to your restraints, and lay your head on his chest as he peppered soft kisses to the cheek he’d slapped and pinched minutes ago. 

His hands snaked behind your back, untying the unmoving boxknot he released your hands from the makeshift restraints, then ran his thumb over the sore flesh. You sat atop his lap, still stuffed full of his cock– softening inside you. He tried to similarly pepper the tender flesh of your wrists with soft kisses, but you pulled them away, twisting them for comfort. 

For a man who had slept with the entirety of Colombia he sure liked to take his time with the intimacy. He held you to his chest– still rising and falling and pulled out, tucking himself back into those infamous black pool shorts. Just as he did the day before he stroked your skin gently under the water, and instinctively you pulled your legs together when he reached between them, thighs closing around his hand as he shifted your bathing suit back in place. 

In that blissed out mood he layed back in the hot tub, letting the bubbles wash over his chest, pressing his warm lips to your even warmer cheek and sighing up at the sky. With how preoccupied you were the night before you’d missed the clear skies of Cartajena. It was difficult to remember the last time you could actually see the stars. He kissed your cheek again. 

Shifting your head to the side you placed your hands on the outside of the hottub, lifting yourself off his lap and out of the water. He looked at you, somewhat confusedly, but didn’t push you further. You felt your tie on skirt stick messily to your upper thighs. It dropped to the floor with a heavy plop when you undid it. 

You reached to grab his discarded shirt off the ground. It was seeped in the scent of his sunscreen– a fresh fougère, crushed grass, and lavender. He leaned his head back, watching as it clung ever so slightly to your wet skin when you slipped it on– the white fabric turning translucent. He kept his eyes on the shameless show you put on for him– reaching down to shimmy off your wet bikini from under the shirt's cover. You felt his spend lewdly trickle down your leg.

“Makin’ me walk back cold?” he breathed jokingly, lifting his head off the granite and nodding it towards you. 

“I can take it off” You smiled as you reached for the top button, undoing it. He watched, for whatever reason expecting you to stop. You moved down another, then another, and another. 

You caught the subtle tick in his jaw. “Put it back on. Now” 

“M’kay daddy..” bending and reaching for your bathing suit that had formed in a pile on the warm ground you met his gaze, the collar of your, rather his shirt riding down too close for comfort. 

And to think he’d tried to ignore you the whole day. He was crazy. You stood up straight, beginning to walk back into your room. 

“Don’t forget about me this time, daddy..”

The boys, the girls

They all like Carmen

She gives them butterflies

Bats her cartoon eyes

She laughs like God

Her mind's like a diamond

Audiotune lies

She's still shinin'

Like lightning, whoa, whoa

White lightning

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think. Made myself sad by making her refuse Javi’s aftercare but we’ll deal with that later. This took way longer than intended so I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work you keep my writing. Dividers and banners by @ Saradika 💗🫶🐝

[tylerjeauxburreaux9]

𝖴𝖭𝖤𝖷𝖯𝖤𝖢𝖳𝖤𝖣 // blurb

𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚡 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙹𝚘𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚡 𝚛𝚎ader

Summary: When you are force to go to every game with your sister, it turns out to be something you didn’t expect to happen.. imagine your going to a game right and you see the quarterback and he’s hot not like you imagine him to be at least you knew he was hot but you didn't think he would extremely hot. But here’s the twist you get home, and you see that he started following out of nowhere and the next you know you’re texting each other.

A/n: @bengals-barnesbabe for the message

Warning:fluffy 

Word count:

This one particular game so happened. out of all the games, I have been to. I have never thought to look at all the players while they were coming out of the tunnel until today I did.

I could possibly say I wasn’t expecting this to happen, but we just happened to fall in love. It’s like love at first sight.

“Do I have to go to this stupid game?” I say annoyed looking at my sister Sara, she always loved football, every time football came around she would make me wear this stupid Bengals jersey and go to their silly little game because she was their biggest fan.

On the other hand side me, I was very much not the biggest fan, don’t get me wrong I love football but I wouldn’t say I liked going out to one because it was too crowded and loud for me. But I didn’t mind going because I was going with my sister

“Yes, you know this y/n, you always have to go, please stop being a baby and just come on. Before we are late” looking at me with her arms folded, sighing

She wore her big orange jersey with the number 1 in the back and front with the word CHASE printed on the back. With camouflage cargo pants, black and white Jordan ones.

While I had on this black baggy t-shirt with Aaliyah‘s face on it. With her name written in graffiti letters, ripped jeans, and black and white dunks.

“Okay, “I say “ “Oh my god, just come on, before we are late,” Sara says, rolling her eyes, then pulling me by my arms, pushing me into the car.

20 minutes later

We were at the game sitting in our chair while they called their names ,each time a football player came out the tunnel.”your quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals. Joe burrow “The announcers announced. He was running slowly, I admired him from afar, watching as he came out of the tunnel

I didn’t think he was this hot, I mean I knew he was hot. But I think he was this hot the whole time during the game I couldn’t keep my eyes off him. He was too damn hot.

“Sara, that Joe Burrow, “ I say “Yes, “ Sara says “Well I knew he was hot but didn't think he was that hot, “ I say “Well you’ve seen it for yourself, “ Sara says. I continued to look at him the whole time of the game.

The game was over. The Cincinnati Bengals had won the game. We were on our way home.

When we got home, I went into my room, took my shoes off, got in my bed, picked up my phone, opened up Instagram, and started to scroll through the reels. Until I saw the big bold letter with the blue check marked saying ‘joeyb_9 started following you’ To my surprise, I couldn’t help but scream. He just randomly followed me like that. Shocked and confused.

“Ahhhhh Joe Burrow just followed me “ I screamed my hands over my mouth, I was still shocked and confused“Y/n what’s wrong, “ Sara said “Um, nothing Sara, “ I said looking at my phone still In shock.

I wanted to see if it was real, so I pressed the message button, nervous to dm him I began to type out ‘ um hi’, but my hand slipped hitting the send I started to think to myself. ‘I can’t believe I sent that, what if he doesn’t see it.

Until I looked at my phone and saw the three little dots that showed he was typing. The text read ‘Hi’ I began to text him back, and then a conversation between the two of us started. There were giggles, teasing, kicking, smile, and flirting in between each text

After that I couldn’t fall asleep I was stuck on the thought that I just talked to the hottest popular quarterback ever and he asked me out. The only thing I could do was smile and hug my pillow. I can’t even think straight. “Wow, that was something”I say, as I constantly think about him, ask me out .still speechless.

Another note: I wasn't planning on writing this it just kinda happened, lol. But the passengers' side will be out l

[aestheticaltcow]

Our Future

The Bear Masterlist

Next Part

A/N: I've been workin' on this one for a couple weeks now and I finally finished omg

“I just don’t know if I want her to meet Eva.” Tiffany sighed, crossing her arms over her chest as she stood in the doorway, “Tiff, do you wanna meet her first or somethin’?” Richie asked, scratching the back of his head. “Richie, I’m sure she’s a lovely girl, but she’s like, what 23?” Richie sighed awkwardly. “Yea…” Tiffany shot him a look, “Look, Tiff, she’s really great-. I want Eva to meet her.” he looked down at her hopefully, Tiffany sighed. He’d been okay with Eva meeting her current boyfriend, so it would be hypocritical for her not to let Eva meet Richie’s girlfriend- you. Tiffany nodded. “Just promise you aren’t breakin’ up with her anytime soon. I don’t want Eva to also get her heart broken.”  

~

Over the summer, you worked as a waitress at The Bear. You thought Richie was handsome from the start. He was tall and rugged, and you couldn’t help but watch his hands as he did paperwork or signed for the liquor order. His hands were so big… you couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel on your body. Manhandling your breasts, wrapped around your neck, pulling you over his knee to spank you… you dragged yourself out of a daydream when Carmy asked the wait staff a question. “I’m sorry my mind was elsewhere… what was the question?”

It went on like that for weeks, Richie being the focal point of your daydreams. Your friends slowly started noticing how you’d turn down guys when you’d go out. Your parents noticed you were taking your time to do your hair and makeup before work. They’d assumed you had a crush on another waitstaff member or, heaven forbid, a line cook; oh boy, did they not expect the man you’d been dolling yourself up for someone 20 years your senior. 

One night, you agreed to go out with some friends from high school. You weren’t looking for a hookup or anything, but when you saw Richie across the street from the club at some pizza place, you were glad you’d borrowed a short cheetah print dress from your friend Mandy. You snuck away from the rest of the group and ‘causually’ bumped into Richie. He’d always thought you were pretty and quick as a whip, but he was significantly older than you, and the idea of even hitting on you made him uneasy. But, when he bumped into you on that night out, he couldn’t get the idea of you out of his mind. “Yo, cousin. You good?” “Ugh yea… was just sayin' hey to y/n.” Carmy chuckled when he saw you walking away from Richie, “She’s into you.” Richie adamantly disagreed, “She’s a good kid, but I’m way too fuckin’ old for her Carm.” 

As the summer came to an end, you’d turned in your two-week notice. Leaving  Richie with a sense of urgency to at least follow you on Instagram. By your last day, he did manage to get your phone number, which, in turn, led to some late-night Instagram stalking from both of you. Richie didn’t expect anything to happen. You were three hours away from Chicago, back at school, surrounded by boys your age. There's no way a girl like you would ever want some 40-year-old divorced single Dad. At least, that was until you’d come home for your Mom’s birthday in mid-September. 

You needed a break from your family. You saw Richie was out with some of the guys from The Bear and decided to make a move. ‘Casually running into’ the group was more challenging than you thought, but when Sweeps noticed you enter the bar, he knew why you were there. “Richie, your girls here.” he laughed; Richie was confused but was happy to see you. You two spent the night talking, “So you got a little boyfriend at school or somethin’?” Richie had hoped the answer would be ‘no,’ and then he could swoop in and show you how a man should treat a woman of your caliber. “Depends on who’s askin’.” you teased, making Richie chuckle. He offered you a ride home.

As Richie pulled up to your parent’s apartment building, you said fuck it and swiftly moved to place a kiss against his lips, the tickle of his facial hair adding to the stimulation. Richie was taken aback; he’d wanted to kiss her for months but didn’t think it would be like this. He kissed you back as soon as he’d realized what was happening. What should have been the perfect first kiss was ruined when your Dad saw you get out of ‘some random old guy's car’ and told you to get your ass inside. 

Your parents scolded you, “Wasn’t he your boss!” “Y/N! We forbid this!”. You were mad at the pair and returned to school sooner than expected. You turned your phone off and stared at the ceiling for a few days; maybe they had a point. Was Richie too old for you? He disagreed; if two people like each other, what’s the big deal? It’s not like she was fresh out of high school- she was 22, and he’d just turned 42. 

A year later, you graduated college and moved back to Chicago to be with Richie and work at a tech start-up. It took a while, but your parents had warmed up to Richie. Granted, your Mom still hated him, but you took a win as a win when your Dad referred to him as an ‘okay guy.’ 

~

Tiffany was hesitant when Richie brought you around Eva at first. She liked you, but she knew Richie better than anyone and didn’t want you to get your heart broken. She didn’t bring anything up until Eva’s birthday party. You were watching the kids play in the backyard when Tiffany saw an opportunity to talk to you. “Hey, Y/N, thanks for comin’.” you smiled up at Tiffany as she sat beside you. “Of course, I couldn’t miss Eva’s Taylor Swift party.” Tiffany nodded before asking, “Can I talk to you about somethin’?” you nodded, “What’s up?” “Might be a little awkward, but um, you and Richie? How’s it goin’?”

You squinted in Tiffany’s direction, “Why do you wanna know?” “I don’t want him back, but you’re just in such a different-” you scoffed. “Tiffany, I don’t think your daughter’s birthday party is an appropriate place to bring this-” “Y/N. I know Richie better than anyone. You have so much life to live. Don’t you wanna travel or get married or have kids someday? I just want you to know what you’re getting yourself into before you’re too invested in this.” “Thanks, Tiffany.” 

Richie was talking to one of Eva’s friend’s Dads when he saw you walking toward the gate, “Sorry, I gotta check on somethin’...” he ducked out of the conversation to follow you out of the backyard. You wiped your eyes as you walked up the street. It was only a couple miles to the closest train stop, and you figured the walk would be a good way to clear your head. “Hey baby- you okay?” Richie called as he ran up behind you. You nodded, “Yeah, everything is fine… I just have to do some stuff…” “What about Eva’s party? Haven’t even had cake yet…” he noticed you’d been crying, “Did Tiff say somethin’ to you? I can-” “Richie- do you wanna get married again?” the question left him dumbfounded. “Maybe?” he shrugged, “Why are you askin about that?” 

You sighed, “Richie, I wanna get married and have kids someday.” you flexed your hand as you stared at the ground, “Okay, we can… we can talk about it later… come back to the party?” Richie said, trying to change the subject and cut the tension between you. “ Yes or no, Richie? Would you want to marry me and have a kid or two within the next three years?” “Baby,” Richie said softly as he touched your bicep, “Let’s talk about all of this later.” you shook your head. “Go back to the party. I have some thinking to do.” you calmly said as you looked up at him. “OK,” Richie nodded and kissed your forehead, “I’ll see you at home?” 

You haphazardly packed some clothes into a suitcase before grabbing your chargers and laptop from the bedside table. This wasn’t how you thought your day would end, but Richie’s answer- or lack thereof- was all you needed to know. Before leaving the apartment, you messily wrote Richie a note saying it was over and your Dad would come by to pick up the rest of your stuff later in the week. You felt your heart break as you locked the door behind you. It was over.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Blooddrinker
Weapon (greataxe), legendary (requires attunement) ___ This axe’s handle ends in a bloodied stake, which was once used to slay a powerful vampire. Its blood has since stained the handle and granted it magical properties. You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon. The first time on each of your turns that you hit a creature using this weapon while you have fewer than half your hit points, you regain a number of hit points equal to the number rolled on the weapon’s damage die; you don’t regain hit points in this way if the target is a construct, plant, or undead. The axe can also be used as a wooden stake for the purposes of paralyzing a vampire. A vampire that’s reduced to 0 hit points by an attack made with this weapon is automatically destroyed. The weapon also has the following additional properties. It loses these properties while in sunlight. 𝙎𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥. While holding the weapon, you can use a bonus action to magically teleport to an unoccupied space that you can see within 30 feet of you. When you do, you reappear in the new space surrounded by a swarm of bats. If the sun isn’t up, the bats remain with you until the start of your next turn and heavily obscure you. Otherwise, the bats immediately fly away. 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙬𝙣. This greataxe has the thrown property, with a normal range of 20 feet and a long range of 60 feet. When thrown at a target within its normal range, the weapon flies back to your hand immediately after the attack. 𝙑𝙖𝙢𝙥𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙘 𝙍𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚. While the weapon is on your person, you have resistance to necrotic damage and have advantage on saving throws against being charmed. 𝘾𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚. This axe is cursed, and becoming attuned to it extends the curse to you (even if you’re in sunlight). As long as you remain cursed, you are unwilling to part with the axe, keeping it within reach at all times. You also have disadvantage on attack rolls with weapons other than this one, unless no foe is within 60 feet of you that you can see or hear. In addition, if the axe doesn’t deal damage to at least one other creature each day, you suffer one level of exhaustion. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[brbwritingfanfic]

kaminari denki x reader

content: use of (Name), slight swearing, vine references word count: 1.3k genre: fluff summary: you and kaminari cuddle while watching vines

 You’re so bored. You want to scream into your pillow or something, but you’re sure someone will hear and get Iida onto your case. You don’t feel like being scolded this late at night.

 You settle for hugging your pillow instead.

 Around 20 minutes ago, you retreated to your dorm room after eating dinner downstairs with your classmates. Bakugo cooked again and your tastebuds were burning from the amount of spice that crazy bitch added. It was still pretty good, though, not that you’d tell him that.

 You heave a sigh, collapsing onto your bed face first, still clutching your pillow. Your wings knock your phone off of your bedside table and you curse under your breath.

 Your quirk was a mutant type, much like the Number 3 hero, Hawks. Two large, black wings protruded from your back and, unfortunately, are unable to be retracted. Hence why, your dumbass wings tend to knock a lot of stuff off of shelves and sometimes hit people in the face if you weren’t careful; you usually forgot they even existed so… yeah.

 You drag yourself to the edge of your bed, still laying down, refusing to get up to retrieve your phone (even though it would be infinitely easier). Your arm stretches out, within a hair's breadth of touching your phone. “C’mon…” you mumble, reaching out further and further until–

 Your phone blares out (favourite song), startling you and causing you to fall out of bed. 

 “FUCK!”

 You faceplant beside your phone unceremoniously, muttering obscenities the whole time.

 You sit up, rubbing your face as you answer whoever was calling you. “I hope you know that I went through a lot trying to answer this call.” You mentally pat yourself on the back. Whoever this person is (you may have forgotten to check the caller I.D) should feel immense guilt for all the pain they put you through.

 “Uh, you okay, (Name)? Should I call Aizawa-sensei, or…?”

 You straighten, a smile involuntarily growing on your face. You know that voice. “Denki? Hey, man, what’s up?”

 “I was checking on you because you left dinner pretty early, but you seem okay?” Kaminari says questionably, causing you to chuckle.

 “Yeah, didn’t really feel like staying down there any longer. It’s was kinda stuffy with the whole class,” you explain before huffing, “but now I’m really bored.”

 “Well, you could–”

 “Oh!” you cut him off unintentionally. “I could totally chill in your room! I mean, I just need to sneak past Iida, but that’s easy and–”

 There’s a knock at your door and you groan.

 “Ugh, gimme a sec. Iida mighta heard me.” You slowly rise to your feet and make your way to the door, careful to not knock anything else over with your wings. Easing the door open slowly, you say, “Listen, Iida, I was kidding– What the hell?”

 Kaminari waves shyly, hanging up the call from his phone. “I snuck past Iida and Kiri said he’d cover for me.”

 You grin excitedly and you grab his arm, yanking him into your dorm. The door slams shut behind you. Kirishima is a godsend, holy shit, you’re gonna give him his favourite food tomorrow. “Okay, so we can either play video games, watch random vine compilations, or–”

 “VINES.”

 “You know me too well.”

 Within minutes, you and Denki were under your fluffy blankets (gosh, you pray that they don’t conduct electricity, HOLY SHIT WHAT IF YOUR WINGS CONDUCT ELECTRICITY???) and eating some popping candy that you found in the kitchen. You now realise that they were probably Denki’s– you remember this one time last week when someone stole his popping candy and everyone nearly died because of how much electricity he was emitting. You like to think that the popping reminds him of little sparks of electricity.

 You think he’s cute.

 You shuffle, trying to get a bit more comfortable with your wings and all. You end up draping one wing over Kaminari and the other over yourself like an extra extra blanket for the both of you.

 As you set up your laptop to watch some good old vines, you could feel Kaminari playing with your wings. You stifle a laugh when he ruffles a few feathers, his eyes glinting in happiness. It kinda tickles; you don’t stop him, though. That smile of his was far too precious to wipe away.

 Denki could stare at your wings forever. He thinks they’re beautiful. And they’re so soft, like, he swears they’re softer than a cloud (not that he’d know how soft they are, if at all, but that’s the only thing he could compare them to). They’re definitely prettier than clouds. 

 His eyes light up in realisation. Oh!! Now he knows what he could compare your wings to. They’re softer than Ojiro’s tail, which is insane because his tail is super duper soft??? Like?? Woah, he could just lay here with you in his arms forever and–

 “Hm, do you want to watch a 10 minute compilation or a 2 hour one?” your voice snaps him out of his daze. You glance at him from the corner of your eye when he doesn’t reply. He seemed pretty out of it… “Denki?”

 After stumbling over his words for a second, he answers sheepishly, “Uhh, the 2 hour one!”

 You grin triumphantly. “Hell yes!” To be honest, you were gonna put the 2 hour compilation on either way. You were already planning on how to force Kaminari to stay that long if he refused. “Ooh, do you wanna stay the night? If you wake up early, no one will know.”

 Denki’s smile widens at your invitation. “Do I? Let’s do it!”

 You both ignore the fact that there was no way either of you would wake up early. Knowing you guys, you’d probably pull an all-nighter (since neither of you can fall asleep that easily) and oversleep. Oh well, you’re sure Kiri and Mina will cover for you. Best wingman and wingwoman ever.

 Hm, now that you think about it, Bakugo would probably cover for you, too, if only for the fact that his record isn’t tainted by affiliation. What a weirdo.

 Pressing play on the vine compilation, you lean back into Denki and pull the blankets up to your chin. You were a little cold.

 Without warning, he grabs your cold hand in his warm one. You immediately relax at his touch, smiling softly.

 Yeah, this is nice, you think to yourself.

 An hour later, your stomach was aching from laughing so much. It was nearly 9pm and the both of you really needed to keep it down. You silently laugh, shaking as tears form in the corner of your eyes. “T-Two bros… chilling in a hot tub,” you whisper-sing, struggling to stay quiet.

 “Five feet apart coz they’re not gay…”

 Silence washes over your room for a solid five seconds. You make eye contact and suddenly you were both howling with laughter.

 “AHAHAH I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHY I’M LAUGHING–”

 “M-ME NEITHER, PFFT–”

 You hand slams over Kaminari’s mouth. “SHHH!!”

 Oh gosh, you can hear footsteps.

 “We’re gonna die…”

 You could see a shadow outside your door. You hold your breath.

 “Yooo, Iida, whatcha doing, man?” Kirishima’s voice, oh my god, angel Kirishima, rings out, catching the Class President’s attention.

 “Oh, Kirishima! I believe I heard something in (L/n)-san’s dorm and was about to–”

 “Ah, I'm sure it was nothing, man! C’mon, it’s nearly curfew, bro! Wouldn’t be manly to be out past it!”

 You could hear Iida gasp. “You’re quite right, thank you, Kirishima! I will be going now!” Footsteps pattered away from your door and you and Denki let out a sigh of relief.

 “You guys owe me,” Kirishima whisper-yells through your door.

 “Thank you so much, Kiri, oh my god, I will personally get Endeavour's credit card from Todoroki and give it to you.” You don’t think he heard you because a second later, you could hear him walk away.

 “I would die for him, he’s so manly.”

 You nod in agreement. “Okay, let’s watch more vines.”

 “VINES.”

 “SHHHHHHHHH!!!!” you shush him aggressively.

 “WHAT–”

 “WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW, WEATHER BOYYY–”

 “(NAME), SHUSH!” He was silent for a moment before whispering, "hug me."

 "I am, dummy."

[yoonzinuhh]

green light,kinktober special.

————————————————————————

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : jeonghan x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : purely smut

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : SMUT (18+ please !) reader has vagina. fingering. little begging. kinda car sex(drive safe people) let me know if i missed anything

𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 : this is purely fiction and i have no intentions in sexualising any idol. this is from my kinktober special. let me know if you want to be tagged for the rest ! reblogs are highly appreciated.

————————————————————————

legs spread wide,back pressed against the leather seat and some rnb song playing behind for almost a whole hour. this is pure torture.

well you knew teasing him with the tight dress that hugged all your pretty curves,dress slightly riding up your thighs during jun’s party would spice things up on the way home but this wasn’t what you really expected.

making you open your legs so wide making sure your dripping pussy was right in sight for him while he’s driving. he hasn’t even touched you a bit but you were practically dripping due to the ac air hitting your core,the smell of you taking up the whole car and his random but intense stares right between your legs while he was driving the car. and you,crazy.

“jeonghan..p-please”

“babe..can’t you see that i’m driving. i need to make sure my princess comes home safe right ?” he says with a smirk and you’re just whining.

it was too much for you. slowly snaking your hands down you touch your clit and making a whimper.

his head shots up to your direction.

“oh oh. what have i told you about touching something that’s mine huh ? you’ve already done enough by wearing that short ass dress and pushing your ass onto me every time there’s a chance babe..” he just chuckles.

“but..han..please pull up the car..j-just touch me” tears brimming. you just want to cum

“hmm wait until we get home love. you know i always make you feel good.” he does. he really knows how to make you feel good and that just makes you keep wanting for more. the way his mouth practically eats your face,the way his tongue works like magic on your core,the way his length finds your spot every damn time. he definitely knows.

staring at the signal light going red he slaps your pussy and you scream due to the sudden contact.

it felt good. not too hard for it to hurt but not too light that you don’t feel any pleasure. sliding his fingers up and down onto your wet folds,he slowly enters your gummy walls with his two pretty fingers and pecks your clit.

“you have time until the light goes green princess. make yourself come or..” he just smiles. him and his annoying ass smile.

you moan out. he’s being slow. and you know thats on purpose so he can make you beg for more,and well,not like you have any option.

“jeonghan please..please faster” you cry out,pushing your hips up to gain more friction so you can just cum.

“no rush y/n. you know i like it slow.” god he’s making you go crazy.

“hannie please make me cum please i’m..jeongh-“ you’re just saying out everything so he goes faster.

eyeing the signal number go 20..19..18..his mouth forms a O.

“since you’re being good”

he trails his finger over his clit. moving fast. little too fast. spreading it with one hand while the other just moving flat over your pussy.

the car was filled with moans,all sorts of noises you make from your mouth and down there. the signal number going lesser and he’s just moving faster.

you were so close and try to warn him but you couldn’t make out words due to how intense ir was. you just let it out closing your leg weakly. you were shaking so bad and it felt so good. so good to let it out after hours of torture.

3..2..1.. his fingers to his mouth for a couple of seconds then on to steering as if nothing happened while you were panting like you ran a marathon and trying to process whatever happened in the last 10 seconds.

it felt hot,you felt so hot with your juices ruining his seat just for him to pull up the car onto a parking out and removing his seat belt.

“we’re not yet done,love” he says signalling the back seat.

this ride is about to crazy for real.