#you guys should like... pressure me into making this somehow

[maaaxx]

i think im starting a new fic soon and outlines are a bitch

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[todayisafridaynight]

Firstly, thanks so much for your patience with my ramblings haha, it's always an absolute pleasure to read your responses even if I get more unhinged with each one of mine! Of course, I'll continue to do my best with the wiki! (Actually, I think it's because of you that I noticed Daigo's age(s) were a year off haha, so thank you for that as well.)

I think you hit the nail on the head, and I adore how his relationships were executed in Y7 as well! I was initially a little bit apprehensive when trailers for 7 were coming out since RGGJo (and Mine, of course) were my favorite antagonists, and Jo is by far the character who's changed the most between games, but I can safely say both… Joes… are right up there for me.

I think a strong early subversion/conversion/something is that RGGJo really does just go and shoot up a rival office for attacking Arakawa (even though Arakawa was fine?). With Y7Jo, even though he's covering for Masato, the fact that's still the story Ichi gets told and he doesn't question it sort of speaks to Y7Jo having a similarly "protective" streak even if it's not actually what happened in that instance. That's also demonstrated in The Eye Scene as you mention later.

Like, I think that story is fairly clearly something he and Arakawa discussed. Masato got in contact with Jo first, and the mess Ichi tries to clear up when he comes in the morning after is indicative of a very long, stressful conversation between two people. Given Masato absolutely should not be smoking, process of elimination would suggest it's Jo. And it's a story they would've aimed to make as believable as possible, so the fact it is believable (Ichi being a bit gullible notwithstanding) says something to me.

For two characters who hardly even speak to each other onscreen (criminal btw), there's a lot to dig into when it comes to Arakawa and Sawashiro's relationship. That aside, I'm super excited to see you analyse Jo's psyche, and I can't wait to read it! I've been reading Japanese psychology texts myself and noticing a number of concepts that apply to Mine, but may apply to the Arakawas as well. There's a great deal I want to share once I get my thoughts in order.

I totally agree Mine's influence on RGGJo was the strongest of the three! I mean, y'know, that's why I acquired brainworms for RGGJo/Mine specifically. (Still 1000% going to commission you by the way when I've got my refs together + am not in danger of being unable to afford Gaiden and 8 lol). Sort of like with Masato and Daigo, I think characters who are clearly based on each other work quite well together even if it's seen as crack. You can come up with pretty compelling ideas trying to rationalize those similarities from a Watsonian perspective.

The devotion is absolutely the strongest point (having the exact same relationship tag for Arakawa and Daigo respectively + similar wording for it in the 15th anniversary book is a nice touch), but for me it's also what's done with it in terms of presentation. For both Mine and RGGJo you're supposed to believe they're actively working against Daigo and Arakawa's interests for most of the story.

And they probably kind of are, but they're convinced the pros outweigh the cons (as with the resort gambit, which you're remembering correctly!) Though it may not have the same effect nowadays for various reasons (spoilers, plot points becoming predictable on account of other games, etc), the devotion was originally supposed to be a twist.

There are other things, of course; they're both the "treasurers" of their respective organizations, they're both third-in-command of the Tojo and Omi, they're both talented people who possess overwhelming strength and influence and are regarded as geniuses (despite scenes to the contrary). If I wanted to reach design-wise, they've got mirrored ahoges, and Mine's "Legend" costume is probably based on characters like RGGJo and Nishiki. Their first cards were even officially stated to have synergy on account of their very similar skillset.

You end up noticing a lot of things like that if you're clinically insane like I am, but the one thing that's really stuck with me is that the render used for RGGJo's office is specifically a new render the Hakuho Clan office. It's missing the stuff that's supposed to be missing, the stuff Kanda broke, but only that. Mine's art collection, which is very personal to him as is also revealed in RGGO, is preserved in full.

There are a number of newly-rendered locations in RGGO and they could've just done that, or they could've picked any location that's not (imo) one of the most iconic, but I don't know why they didn't. And I don't know whether it was just convenience, whether it's simply meant to be reflective of them having similar tastes without being the same office, or whether it's just honest to God the same office. I mean, it's not like there's any reason to acknowledge it in-game.

But I think, in a weird way, that this is one of the things that carried over to Y7Jo alongside the devotion and The Eye Scene. A lot of people don't notice because there's so much going on in Y7's finale, but the Arakawa Family office the finale takes place in is specifically Y7Jo's office. And if you examine the Hakuho Clan office and the Arakawa Family office as spaces Mine and Y7Jo have created for themselves, there are very few aesthetic similarities other than being pretty tasteful two-storey offices, but both are, in their own ways, designed for companionship.

There is the obvious fully-stocked bar and main seating area in both, but that's sort of whatever, that's entertainment and hospitality. What really catches my eye, at least on the first floor, is that every piece of gym equipment in Mine's office comes in pairs; similarly, there's the pair of armchairs that are just by themselves behind Y7Jo's desk.

The second floor of Mine's office basically consists of only a TV, a table, and a set of couches, but I think the second floor of of 7Jo's is the more telling of the two. You walk upstairs from this very snazzy, richly decorated first floor (btw, like Mine's gym equipment and art, I would like to think the fact it's decked from top to bottom with books isn't just for show) to a second floor that consists of… absolutely nothing.

Nothing except another pair of armchairs, echoing those on the first floor, facing out into this gorgeous (RGGJou would--and has--said "romantic") view of Kamurocho. Maybe it's just to have this dramatic, spacious arena for the very last fight, but I just think that visual is potentially such a strong bit of storytelling via set dressing.

I also think with RGGJo being split into Y7Jo and Masato, some of the Mine influence kind of ended up with Masato too, specifically as Aoki. At least insofar as all the catastrophizing about not truly being cared-for despite evidence to the contrary, and I kind of felt like the moment where he shoots at and narrowly misses Ichi's head, then throws his gun away for a good ol' fistfight was Something.

Completely agree on your assessment of the link to Nishiki as well! There's the surface level design similarities with young RGGJo back when he had long hair and accessorized less, but yeah, no notes. I definitely think Y7Arakawa's line applies perfectly to the dynamic they were going for, too.

I thought the implication was that Masato wouldn't have survived at all in RGGO on account of Arakawa being unable to open the locker, but it's super interesting to think about how things might've turned out otherwise! A Masato who's Just A Guy and treated sort of like RGGO Mitsu's offscreen wife and kid is such a concept.

I really do hope there's a continuation to the story; as it stands, it literally ends with Jo in a coma lol. But I'm grateful RGGO is still accessible and actively updated, in comparison to the previous mobile titles, which also had original stories that are all gone now.

Jo was actually in a very recent event, even. The event spent its whole runtime talking about how cats are sensitive to smell, and evidently, according to the ending, Jo is incredibly sensitive to smell himself. I'm not sure which Jo it was even supposed to be since he was offscreen, but uh, catboy confirmed? Nyawashiro…? It's fun trivia.

Mentioning Arakawa's "sons" line in such close proximity to talking about Tsutsumi reminds me! There was this Y7 interview with all three actors (that has since been privated and that I kick myself every day for archiving) where Nakai and Tsutsumi were talking about how they usually play father and son.

So there's this very, very long history of them co-starring (as I'm sure you're aware lol), like from way back when Tsutsumi's voice was actually higher. And I think the casting choices absolutely are informed by the history and context there, both as individuals and as co-stars, both in terms of filmography as you say and not.

One particular anecdote that just Gets Me is that this was Tsutsumi's first time voice-acting, and he honestly wasn't even sure he'd take the role, but he accepted once he heard Nakai was on board. And he went on to actually enjoy it so much he read the rest of the (gargantuan) script, far beyond his own dialogue, and ended up forgetting the lines to the play he was doing at the time.

He also went on to voice-act a second time in The Deer King, where he plays… another iintimidating man with a violent reputation and a "soft"/deeper side (who is of course a reluctant father), actually. I actually have seen most of his other roles, and Jo really is almost one-of-a-kind. Though it's hard to find any one character he's "like," I can absolutely see what you mean with regard to Oda Nobunaga and Kanda.

I think that actually really works with regard to audiences having an idea of what to expect from his character and to an extent from Y7 if you look Jo as more of a culmination of Tsutsumi's career up to that point. In addition to what you've mentioned already, I also detect a lot of Koda (Good Luck!!) and Ogata (SP)'s themes with regret and making amends and vengeance in particular.

There's a little bit of Appare (Kagerou Touge) and Shibata (Keiho) too, I think, in terms of presenting yourself as worse than you actually are. And I think Tsutsumi's own struggles with mental health lend a lot of gravitas to characters like Ishigami (Suspect X) and Jo, who you can't really argue Isn't Depressed, especially at present.

And of course, y'know, he's played yakuza (to great effect), he's played dads (to great effect; btw, I would say the worst fathers/father figures he's played are probably in Fable II and My Blood & Bones in a Flowing Galaxy, Jo somehow doesn't even compare lol). Also, pretty much every Tsutsumi character either ends up dead or in jail, being a villain in an RGG game notwithstanding. There are often very strong critiques of police and politics present in his work as well, Y7 being no exception.

It's similar with Nakai, maybe to an even greater extent than with Tsutsumi, since Y7 borrows more heavily from his works and his personal life aligns surprisingly well with Arakawa's. They're both actors who are sons of actors, lost their fathers at a young age, were raised by abusive mothers, and ended up with a sort of unlikely father figure in adulthood. So I think it's sweet that Nakai ended up enjoying Arakawa as much as Tsutsumi did Jo. It's kind of funny being more or less typecast as a dad without actually having any children (unlike Tsutsumi), though.

I touched on it a tiny bit before but that's a really insightful take on RGGJo's splintering, as well! And you're most welcome. I've always found it fascinating just how closely their backgrounds tie in to who they end up being. I completely agree having his dad around did a lot for Arakawa in terms of having the confidence to stick to his guns.

But yeah, you know, it's just tragic. I think it's also one of the less talked-about ways abuse can perpetuate itself. Because Jo treating Ichi the way his father may have treated him is sort of the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the topic, but Jo's learned avoidance also goes on to make Arakawa a scapegoat for Aoki's abuse.

I'm always a fan of your takes and insights, so I don't mind the wait: thank you so much for writing as much as you have, it's really wonderful being able to discuss Jo and RGGO v. Y7 as a whole! (I have to be embarrassed about the Daigo's-Age bit though: I'm glad I was able to help point it out, but I remember being so sassy and rude in the post where I mentioned it 😭)

It's great that despite their differences, both Jo's are still incredibly enjoyable; the roles each Jo fulfills, although different, are still executed in ways that keep the character in a close beat with each other, but of course effectively fill out their new purposes in new interesting ways!

As a bit of an aside, I've always been curious and nosy about the full details about New Years Day, 2001 and what happened after that. Anything I can say about the night tiptoes more into theory territory than anything solid, but if we're to go off the notion Masato really did head straight home afterwards, then it is fair to assume Jo had to have met with Arakawa that same night not long after the call in order for Arakawa to be ready to talk to Ichi the same morning (it must have been the biggest shock afterwards for Masato to hear he's gotta run to America if the three of them didn't talk about it together- which I'm assuming is what happened since, as you said, Masato shouldn't be anywhere near cigarettes, and the ash tray is definitely indicative of a stressful discussion). BUT Jo's preexisting devotion to Arakawa (plus the nod to/rework of RGGJo actually attacking a rival gang) nonetheless definitely helped in making their story digestible to the people they had to tell.

The fact Jo and Arakawa interact so little on screen really is unfortunate, even if it's understandable as to why. At the very least, I'm grateful there's so many bits of context clues through the game/s that can at least offer a peak into their dynamic! Segwaying away from that though, I can't lie I was already thinking of some bullet points regarding Jo's brain as I was falling asleep, so it's definitely something I want to put to paper when I get to: I'm glad to hear I have your interest on it when I write it! In that same vein, I'd be more than happy as well to hear about these notes you've seen that can apply not only to Mine, but to the Arakawa family. As you note later on, Mine and Aoki share similar philosophies, so I'd love to see your full take on that if you get to it!

About Mine though, it was really hard for me not to joke about the two being similar whenever the chance arose: I mean, two men who lose their fathers (admittedly, Jo chose to leave his dad but Dad Lost is still a bullet point on the venn diagram... that now I actually feel like taking the time to make later...) turn out to become their respective clan's most trusted asset (and handler of assets) who are volatile when it comes to the ones they care about (I don't have to clarify Mine, but as for Jo, aside from The Eye Scene and even the book wording, he definitely overreacts to Ichi having Masato's money. Of course, part of his anger could be due to his belief in the honor of being a yakuza, but I wouldn't say it's a reach to also assume that the idea of Ichi pestering Masato- if not assuming the worst for whatever reason from Ichiban of all people- might have irked him) and ironically act out in ways that would go against what the ones they care about want (more so strictly about RGGJo, of course)- it's hard not to see the notes borrowed from Mine to make Jo. In that, I do really enjoy their devotions being twists; even if that twist might not work nowadays as efficiently, I'll still enjoy it for what it's able to provide and how it can deepen a character.

To continue on to visual similarities, I actually did notice RGGJo's office being the same as Mine's (I stopped reading for a bit just to make a mini thread about it on my private Twitter)! Whether it was intentional or a simple reuse of assets, it's a great nod to Mine's influence on his character.

As for Y7Jo's office in comparison to Mine's- if I may accidentally go on a bit of an analytical rant- it's a little funny how different they are despite being tangential in wanting a space for companionship (like you mentioned for Jo's case, it might have been for dramatic purposes, but it wouldn't hurt to try and examine the room at face value for a second).

Mine's office is comparatively brighter and more apparently inviting, and it's not just due to the nighttime setting of Jo's office as his office's walls are painted black- but at the same time, the contrast almost feels intentional. Mine's apartment, even if spacious, has the social pieces close to each other, especially in relation to his personal desk. On the flip side, Jo's desk is considerably isolated away from the grand table in the side of the room. In these differences, I think it does lead to a great representation of their relationships with people and what they wanted out of life: with Mine, despite wanting people to be close to him and in his proximity, he's ultimately alone and by himself. On the contrary, Jo appears satisfied with- at least- only having Masato in his life, the second chair undoubtedly being honorary to Arakawa in a similar vein. He isn't too concerned with getting close to anyone else, thus no need for his table set to be so nearby. I could just be talking about nothing though- yet I think these differences is a great way to show how despite inspiration from Mine, they divide off into different characters still (honestly I might steal from this ask and make a separate post about this because now I've gotten myself invested in set design- it can go in the same post as my venn diagram I guess lmao).

Nevertheless, RGGJo and Mine borrowing from each other design wise is also another fun bit- it's as if Yokoyama's grabbing people by the shoulders and practically begging us to realize Jo's influenced by him (don't worry Mr. Yokoyama, I see you). Ergo, Y7Jo and Masato being split from RGGJo is such an interesting take of the two characters: it not only helps highlight Jo's traits it really also heightens Mine's extended influence on Masato (their inability to shoot people standing still is probably going to be a new favorite comparison I hadn't noticed before LMAO).

Moving on though, that lost interview with Nakai and Tsutsumi's going to haunt me now: I'd love to be able to see it, I love actor interviews, especially when the actors featured are already so familiar with each other! It's so sweet how connected the two are- it's what makes it a little more unfortunate that we didn't get to see Jo and Arakawa on screen together more. On that note though, I actually had a similar conclusion that Jo was a solid representation of Tsutsumi's career thus far: his ability to play deep and sentimental characters that have a rough exterior while also possessing some action to the role that he initially sought after in his career really encapsulates his ability as an actor! All in all, I'm glad that Nakai and Tsutsumi were able to have strong connections to their characters in Y7- and I can't really argue against Nakai's dad-typecast: there's just something about him that screams 'father' to me even if, ironically as you said, he isn't a father to any kids.

[carltonlassie]

Why is it always where do you work or what school do you attend and not what kind of unrelenting horrors have you been dealing with lately or what kind of tragedies have you been lamenting these days

[seattlesellie]

Jealous. 🎀

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.

an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3

something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?

Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;

“Did so good for me, babe”

“I love you, so much”

“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.

And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.

It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.

Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.

The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”

It’s fucking exhilarating.

She loves it every time, she does it every time.

But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.

There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.

And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.

But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,

For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.

You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.

"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.

For Ellie, it meant everything.

Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."

But you're so damn intuitive.

"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.

"Exhausted"

You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.

"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"

She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"

Her voice mocks your own a little.

You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.

"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.

But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?

"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.

You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.

You don't fuck with what's hers.

She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.

"Take off your skirt"

Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.

"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.

She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.

"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.

And it simply pushes you over the edge.

You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.

But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.

Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.

She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.

"M'cold" you whine.

She scoffs.

She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"

Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?

She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.

But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.

It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,

She can't help it.

Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.

She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.

Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.

Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.

You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.

"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.

Ellie, not Michael.

She smiles, greedy, triumphant.

She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.

You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.

You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.

"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"

With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.

You don't respond.

A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.

"You're not listening" Ellie warns.

"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.

"M'close" you brokenly wail.

She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.

"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"

[hysteria-things]

OMG OMG I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA !!

So like what if the reader is one of the ghosts that lived in the hotel and they take an interest in matt(im convinced that all of the ghosts there were matt girls) and the ghost liked how he talks and they show themselves to him and like y'kkow y'knownsmut and thid and that

so like reader reveals ehat she looks like to him and they get all freaky

GHOST (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt runs into a girl at the driskill hotel. he can’t explain it, but he feels immediately attracted to her somehow.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, making out, p in v

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 943

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i changed it up a smidge!

for @skadltmf :)

the long-awaited sam and colby x sturniolo triplets collab is in full swing at the driskill hotel in austin, texas.

the five of them were in the vault for a while and then walked around, but now they’re on a break from filming for an hour or two because they wanted to get something to eat.

“shit, i’m so sorry!” you apologize when you run into a boy who’s throwing something out.

he smiles down at you, shaking his head. “it’s all good.”

matt furrows his eyebrows when he sees you. he can’t explain it, but it feels like he’s being pushed toward you somehow. like a gravitational pull, despite never seeing you before.

“what’re you doing at the haunted driskill hotel?” you ask, wanting to spark up a conversation. you must admit, he’s a cutie, and you love the way he talks.

he crosses his arms. “i should ask you the same thing.”

you sigh. “touché. i’ve heard a lot about this place and wanted to see it with my own eyes. research, if you will.”

“ah.” he nods, still smiling. “i’m a youtuber. doing a collab right now.” he points behind him where the others are.

matt’s still freaked out. he’s just so attracted to you. there’s something about your presence that has him not wanting to leave your side.

he feels sympathetic to you. he feels like he wants to keep you safe at all times. he’s never one to start talking to a stranger, but for some reason, he has no problem mingling with you.

“what’s your name?”

“y/n l/n.” you bite your lip, caressing his shoulder flirtatiously. “you’re handsome, you know that?”

bold. he thinks.

“i-i’m matt.” he stammers, cheeks flushing at each movement you make.

your hand trails up to his hair right above his ear, and you play with it while looking deep into his eyes. he leans into your hand. “there’s a janitor’s closet over there.” you tilt your head. “will i see you in there?”

you wink, walking off in the opposite direction. he glances at you and then the group, taking out his phone to text chris.

i forgot something in the room, i’ll be back in a few.

waiting patiently in the small closet, the door opens minutes later. you smile widely, admiring the boy in front of you.

“for some reason, i need to kiss you.” he says abruptly out of breath. “can i kiss you?”

you exhale, snaking your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss that soon turns into a make-out.

his hands roam your body, lastly going to your pants before he pulls away. “um… is this okay?”

“more than okay,” you say, pulling him in so his lips are on yours again.

matt pulls down your pants, lips still intact as he lifts you.

he removes his pants as well, pushing your panties to the side. you both know there’s not much time, so you guys must be quick.

pecking your shoulder, you moan when he slowly fills you.

his thrusts start soft, but he notices your discomfort. he can’t tell if it’s because you’re trying to adjust or if you’re not enjoying it. “you okay?”

your face turns red from embarrassment. “i haven’t done this in a really long time, and um… it’s hard for me to feel pleasurable unless you rub my… y’know.”

“you mean like this?” he smirks, thrusting faster and deeper while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

you throw your head back and nod. “mhm! fuck.”

whenever he thrusts in, he applies more pressure with his finger and it sends you into a state of bliss. “you f-feel so good, matt.” you whine, squirming in his grip.

it makes it hard for him to move by how tight you’re squeezing around him, but you’re close.

he grunts, closing his eyes to take it all in. in his opinion, this is the best he’s ever had. he wants to keep in mind that he doesn’t even know you, but you’re so much different.

“i’m gonna cum.” you whisper, jolting slightly when he rubs your clit harder.

“cum all over me, baby,” he replies, making sure you cum first.

your release oozes around his dick, and that’s his queue to pull out to finish on your stomach.

the two of you stay there, engulfing each other to catch your breath. “how come i feel so connected to you somehow?” he says lowly, resting his forehead on yours.

you shrug. “you’ll find out soon.”

he’s a little confused by what you mean but doesn’t ask about it. instead, he holds you close until his cellphone ringing disrupts you.

sam, colby, and the triplets walk down a hallway, passing some portraits of the ghosts along the way. you had to take your separate ways when nick called matt complaining that he was taking too long.

“isn’t that the freaky one?” colby asks smugly, pointing to a specific picture.

“that is the freaky one!” sam exclaims, the triplets giggling along with them.

“who’s the freaky one?” chris asks, squinting to get a better look.

“she was nineteen when she died.” colby starts. “she was known to seduce men with her ‘looks of manipulation’, some might say.”

matt scoots in front of the group to have a look, and he could’ve sworn his blood ran cold. a girl is pictured sitting on a stool with a gorgeous smile and old victorian clothes.

the girl in question is you, and he has to blink multiple times to make sure he’s seeing right.

the gold plaque underneath confirms who he’s looking at:

y/n l/n.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut

[bunnylovesani]

A Birthday Affair

Summary: It's your birthday and your best friend is making you a cake! Too bad she's left you home alone with her boyfriend, Anakin. She should've known you two had a thing for each other, right?

Content warnings: cheating, p in v sex, creampie, daddy kink

WC: 2.6k

“Alright guys, there’s only one shop that sells the buttercream we need and it’s way at the other end of town.” Padme shouts tiredly, grabbing her coat by the door. “Could’ve sworn I’d already picked some up…but anything for the birthday girl. I might be a while so make sure you keep an eye on the cake in the oven!”

“We’re not that incompetent, Padme.” Anakin rolls his eyes.

“Of course, we got it!” You answer as she leaves and turn to face Anakin. “You should really be nicer to her.”

“I’m plenty nice.” He responds. “And you’re the birthday girl, it’s you I need to be nice to.”

“But she’s your girlfriend. You’re obligated to be nice to her all year round.” You put the empty batter bowl into the sink as Anakin stares at you across the kitchen, leaning against the countertops. 

“I’m about as nice to her as she is to me.” He murmurs and you look back in confusion. Were they having issues you didn’t know about? 

“That couldn’t be further from the truth, Padme is the perfect girlfriend and you-“ You paused, looking at him up and down with a light scowl. “-well you’re you.”

“Ah, so you think I’m not good enough for her? How cliche.” He gives you a look of displeasure. “And what is it that makes me so unworthy of her company?”

“You’re not bad per se, you’re just…” You sigh, struggling to put your thoughts into words. “Look at it this way- Padme is one of those rare people. She manages to balance being successful and beautiful with somehow being humble and kind- I know for a fact she wakes up every morning to make you breakfast- and she does things like drive all over the city looking for a specific frosting for her best friend. That’s just the kind of person she is.” You ramble on, walking around the kitchen as Anakin stares at you in fascination.

“And then there’s you, who’s forgotten every anniversary and has been fired from every job because of his inability to control his temper. You see what I’m getting at?” 

Anakin furrows his thick brows as he processes what you’re saying and you think he might get mad at you for a second but to your relief, he cracks a bright smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m just as much of a mess as you are. Just as unworthy.“ You laugh and a puzzling smirk crosses his face. 

“So you’re saying I should be with someone better suited for me?” 

“Yes, exactly.” 

“Someone like…you?” He raises an eyebrow. 

You chuckle nervously and take a step back, suddenly aware of how close he’d gotten. 

“Obviously not. I-I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.” Stuttering, you try to move away from him but he doesn’t budge, tall figure towering over you. That stupid smirk he has plastered over his face increases your heart rate tenfold. 

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Have I got you flustered?” He sneers.

“Stop playing around.” You push him away by his chest and escape to the sofa, slumping down it with a huff.

“Padme told me about the little crush you had on me.” He stands behind you and you refuse to face him, consumed with embarrassment. 

“Crush is too strong of a word for what that was.” You feel your cheeks burning up at the memory; when you first met Anakin at that bar last Christmas, you’ll admit you initially wanted him all to yourself. But what were you supposed to do when Padme got to him first? You can’t believe she told him. 

“So you don’t find me attractive anymore?” He asks in that provocative tone of his. 

“The outer shell is fine but the inside could do with a little work.” You feign confidence, avoiding the question. To be truthful, you found him incredibly attractive. So much so that you actively avoided him because you felt yourself folding under pressure anytime he was near. 

“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked quietly, taking a seat on the footstool across the sofa. 

“No, but I sense you’re going to anyway.” You brace yourself.

“That night I saw you and Padme playing pool at the bar.” He begins. “I wanted to approach you, not her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat.

“But she came up to me first and when I asked her who her friend was, she told me you weren’t interested…in men.” Your mouth widens as his words linger in the air.

“I-I don’t know what to say.” You stutter, feeling a small sense of betrayal run through you. “I don’t know why she’d do that.” 

“Because she knew she wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise.” He gets up to sit next to you and you tense up at his knee lightly brushing past yours.

“I thought you were a lesbian for half the time I’ve known you- until you started dating that loser a few months ago and Padme had to come clean. She thought I’d find it funny.” He curls his lip in disgust.

“And did you?”

“No.” He responds, steely eyes staring right through you. “I’m still mad about it.”

“Anakin…” You cautiously murmur, sensing the direction this could so easily take.

“I’m just saying, remember that next time you want to rant about how great she is. If it wasn’t for her deceit, it could’ve been us together.” He rests his hand on your leg but you swiftly brush it off.

“But it’s not. And it never will be. You’ll always either be her boyfriend or her ex. Either way, you’re off limits.” You try to assert some boundaries before your self-control completely slips away from you.

“And if it weren’t for these limits?” He reaches his hand up, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Oh God, the cake! Must go and check on the cake.” You get up, trying to escape his grasp but he pushes you back down. 

“I said what if it weren’t for those limits?” He repeats sternly and you can’t help but fixate on his rosy pink lips. You’d always wondered how they’d feel pressed up against yours.

“In another galaxy where you’d never met her-“ You sigh, walls crumbling down. “then I’d be yours.”

“Is that what you want?” His husky voice mutters, barely above a whisper.

“It doesn’t matter because this isn’t another galaxy. This is reality.” You shuffle back a little in an attempt to impose some distance between you. 

“Fuck reality. I want you.” He pulls you in and you’re hit with a wave of warmth radiating off his firm body. 

“Anakin, no. Padme is my best friend! I’m not a homewrecker.” You cry out, unsure whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself. 

“You can’t wreck something that’s already fallen apart. I don’t care about her— I don’t care about any of it anymore. For God’s sake, I even hid the damn buttercream because I wanted her to leave us alone for a while.” Your mouth gapes open at his revelation.

“I knew it!” You point your finger at him but he grabs you by the wrist and pulls you onto him, faces barely an inch apart. 

“I need you. In every way possible.” His voice is so breathy it makes you squeeze your thighs together. 

“Ugh, Ani I-“

“Do you want me as much as I want you? Please, put me out of my misery.” He whines and you bite your lip over the beautiful desperation in his words. 

“Of course I want you, I’ve always wanted you.” The words barely leave your mouth before he grabs your face with both hands and kisses you sloppily, grip on your jaw a little too strong. He has you gasping for air, stubbornly holding onto you like it was the last kiss he’d ever have. 

“Don’t you worry about her, I’ll take care of everything.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb comfortingly and you feel all your worries melt away; he was here, he would fix it all. 

“I’ve thought about this for so long.” You cry, pawing at him. The sense of elation you felt at finally being able to touch him, inhale him, taste him- after an eternity of forcing every feeling down. You did it all out of respect for Padme, out of respect for Ani who chose her- but now that you’d learned the truth, restraint flew out the window. He should’ve been yours- he is yours.

“Lie down for me sweetheart, I wanna see my pretty girl.” He pushes you down onto the sofa and inches your skirt down, admiring your pretty pink panties. “You wear these just for me?” You nod frantically- it’s true, you wore everything for him. Your best underwear, your prettiest lipstick, your shortest little skirts, it was all for him. He pushes your top up slowly, messy kisses being planted all over your tummy until he reaches your perky tits. 

“Is there a reason you’re not wearing a bra, young lady?” He scolds you playfully. 

“Mhm, it’s fun watching you fight the urge to stare at the way they bounce and jiggle.”

“You noticed that, huh?” You giggle at his honesty as he rips your top off, laughter instantly replaced with breathy moans as he squeezes your boobs harshly, taking turns sucking on the nipples. 

“Best pair of tits I’ve seen in my life.” He mutters into your chest as he continues to kiss and lick all over, making you writhe underneath him. 

“Ani, please.” You buck your hips up towards him, desperately needing more. “Hurry, we don’t know when she’ll be home.” 

“Then it’s a good thing the door bolts shut from the inside.” He grins, hands trailing down between your thighs. 

“Ani, no! We can’t lock her out, what would she think?”

“I don’t care, all I know is if I don’t get enough of this sweet pussy, I’m gonna lose my mind.” He groans as he hooks his arms under your legs and pulls you down, pulling your panties to the side. You bashfully cover your face with your hands as he rubs your clit with his thumb and when you peek through your fingers, you see him biting his lip and curving his eyebrows into a pitiful swoop. Just as you think it can’t get better, he lowers his boxers and frees his cock, heavy length slapping against his stomach. Not wanting to inflate his already engorged ego, you try not to look shocked- but he sees right through you. 

“You tryin’ to make me feel bad, sweetie? No problem, I’ll have you squealing in a minute anyway.” He confidently asserts and you feel him rubbing his tip along your soaking folds; the anticipation alone is enough to make you throw your head back.

With one sudden thrust, he pushes himself into your tight pussy and you sink your teeth into the pillow beside you to conceal some of the noise. Reaching forward and grabbing it from you, he tosses it aside and grabs you by the jaw. 

“I want to hear every little sound you make. Raw and unmuted.” He growls. 

“B-but someone might hear-“

“I don’t give a fuck.” He asserts aggressively. “Let them hear. They might as well start getting used to it now.” You moan at his depraved words, drool forming around your lips. 

“If you want something in your mouth that bad, here.” He offers you his fingers- which you accept gratefully, sucking and biting on them to your heart’s content. Just as you’ve adjusted, he slides the rest of his cock in- filling you so deeply you question how it’s even possible. The mewling that proceeds boosts Anakin’s ego more than is healthy; you pant and whine so fervently that you look like you’re on the verge of passing out. Your pupils are dilated, your hair messed up, your thighs dampened with arousal and sweat. 

“Ani, mm fuck- fill me up, please!” You dig your fingernails into his back as he lowers himself to kiss your wet lips, silencing your sobs and pleading if only for a moment. 

“You want my cum, sweetheart? You wanna be daddy’s cum slut, hm? Let me hear you say it.” His strokes get deeper and sloppier as he hurtles his way to his release. 

“Yes daddy, yes! I wanna be your cum slut so bad, it’s the only thing I want.” You ramble, words barely audible over the loud sounds of smacking and squelching. 

“I could never say no to you.” He whispers, head tucked into the crook of your neck planting open-mouth kisses. 

“I need it, need it noww.” You whine, tits bouncing into circles as he roughly pounds into you, strong hand maintaining a firm grip on your hip as he rams himself into you one last time: cum spilling from his tender cock and filling you up to the brim. Pulling out, the sensation of his cum dribbling out of you doubled with his thumb circling your clit sends you over the edge, orgasm washing over you like a tsunami. He rests his head on your chest as you both catch your breath, running your fingers through his hair. 

“I’m gonna leave her.” He softly speaks. “I’m leaving and I’m telling her about us.” 

Your heart seizes in both panic and excitement. There’s an us?

The familiar thud of footsteps in the hallway has you both scrambling to get dressed- you pull your top down and your skirt back on but can’t find your frilly panties anywhere. Anakin just about finishes zipping up his jeans when Padme walks in to the sight of her very flustered-looking best friend and boyfriend, sitting oddly far apart in unnatural positions on the couch. 

“Hey guys, I had to check several different stores but I finally found the right buttercream, what have you- wait, do I smell something burning?” 

Fuck, you forgot the cake.

Running over to the oven, she scrambles to pull out the smoking tray. Despair takes over her face when she sees the round crust, black as cinder. 

“How did you forget?! What were you doing?” She yells, throwing the ashes straight into the bin and frowning at you. 

“Nothing, Padme. We just got carried away chatting is all. ‘m really sorry.” You walk over to join her in the kitchen but start to feel Ani’s seed leaking out of your stretched-out hole and dribbling down your thighs. Noticing the glistening sticky wetness, Anakin rushes over in front of you to distract Padme. 

“It was my fault, I said I’d keep track of time and I didn’t.” He explains, subtly tossing a kitchen towel your way. 

“Classic Anakin, honestly a monkey would have better time management.” She hisses, barging past him and opening windows to let the smoke out. “No wonder you can’t keep a job.” He takes a shaky breath and you can see how hard he’s trying to restrain himself. 

“Not now.” You think, giving him a knowing glare and he nods reluctantly. Padme stomps over to the bathroom and you quickly wipe the cummy mess off your thighs, giggling a little at the excitement of sneaking around. Anakin rushes over and gives you a feverish kiss, whispering in your ear “She goes to bed early, you know.”

Maybe you wouldn’t tell her just yet. 

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10

Part 2 here

[formulawolff]

vii. the in-between - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 5.2k

warnings: buckle up y’all cause we go. angst, cursing, size kink, edging, praise kink, FUCKING, LOTS OF FUCKING. toto being a simp, banter, yearning, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol use, creampie, teasing, yadayadayada… y’all know what’s about to go down

prev. | next.

“it’s fine, mom. really.” 

bringing a hand to your temple, you begin to massage, attempting to alleviate the accumulated pressure. 

“i mean, yeah, i’m not in trouble or anything. as far as i know, the fia is letting me race in suzuka. it was my first offense so they dropped the investigation. as long as i publicly apologize for my actions, everything will be cleared up.” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

do you know how many people have asked me about you? baby, people approach me at the goddamn grocery store asking me why you beat up that poor little british boy! he’s built like a twig for god’s sake! 

rolling your eyes, you lean back in your chair, keeping the phone pressed against your ear, “mom, his name is george russell. he drives for mercedes. he’s not some little boy.” 

all right, all right. well maybe he needs to come over for some dinner or something. get some meat on those bones. anyway, did i tell you that your father has been scouring ebay trying to purchase sports cards with your car on it? well, he’s found ones with you on them too. he wants to make a booklet of his favorite kiddo. 

with that discovery, your heart swells, “is he really? tell him to look up topps chrome cards. those are the best ones. since i’m not as popular as max or lewis, they should be pretty cheap. and mom, i’m your only kiddo.” 

that’s why we’re so proud of you. even if you get into fist fights, we still love you bunches. when do you think you’ll come home? your dad wants to take you out in his baby. he’s made some modifications to it. he thinks you’ll appreciate it more than i will. 

“where is dad? is he asleep?” 

yes honey. he’s asleep. snoring away on the couch with the dogs. i wish we could give you a taste of home somehow. maybe i could have a care package sent to japan? 

“mom,” you exhale, “that would be so much money. don’t worry about it. were you guys considering flying out for miami?” 

oh yes, about that! you perk up in your chair, anticipating your mom’s response. we are going to be there. we can’t wait to see you. we miss you so much. it’s so quiet when you’re not home. will i be able to meet some of your coworkers? 

letting you a giggle, you shake your head, “mom. they’re my fellow drivers. we’re not coworkers. but yeah, i could probably introduce you to a few of them. daniel wants to meet you two.” 

what about that handsome fellow with the bright blue eyes? he drives for redbull! and yes, i would love to meet daniel. 

“max verstappen?” you arch a brow, “we’d have to see about that one. he’s a very busy man.” 

okay, okay. the line cuts out briefly. hey honey, i think i need to head to bed. i love you so much. keep in touch, okay? we’ll see you in a few short weeks. 

nibbling on your lower lip, you nod, “i love you too, mom. tell dad i love him. i miss you guys. i can’t wait to see you.” 

me either. goodnight honey, or good morning or afternoon or whatever time it is over there. i’ll text you when i wake up! love you. 

“love you,” your lip trembles, hands clamming up as you the line goes silent. 

fuck, were you homesick. 

you just had to make it a few more weeks. then, you could finally reunite with your parents in miami. although you knew you would be so fucking busy, you would make time. 

you always did when it came to your parents. 

also, you had another plan brewing as you scroll through your contact list, searching for a certain dutch assassin. a certain dutch man who happened to be a three-time world champion. 

somehow, someway, your mom was going to meet max verstappen. 

you had to make that happen. 

you had to. 

currently, you were sitting on the edge of a bed in a suite in london, anxiously awaiting the arrival of your driver. a decently-sized suitcase sat near the door, a carry-on stacked on top. 

this driver was provided specific instructions to transport you from london to brackley, dropping you off at the door of a certain team principal’s home. 

yet, you were well aware that it wasn’t going to be just any old home. 

this man was billionaire, after all. 

buzzing in your grasp, your phone notifies you of a new text. 

from none other than toto wolff. 

the driver is on the elevator, heading up towards your suite. DO NOT handle your bags. he will do that for you. i don’t want you to fuss over a single thing. from there, he will bring you here, where he will punch in the code for the gate. i will be waiting for you at the door. 

i can’t wait to see you, schatzi. i miss your beautiful face and sweet laughter. 

oh, and i can’t wait to kiss you. 

(and yes, i am pacing around in my office as i type this. i can’t focus on anything else but your arrival) 

with sazuka quickly approaching next week, you would only have a couple of days with the team principal before you had to part ways. he would have prep, meetings, press, where he would then fly out to sazuka. meanwhile, you would have to catch a flight, meet with your team, prep, and potentially meet with press, fans, and the other drivers. 

additionally, you had to address the incident that occurred last week at the australian grand prix. to your surprise, the fia had dismissed the investigation, finding no substantial evidence that the two of you needed to be punished. due to the nature of the accident, george was not punished, as he did no illegal maneuvers or intentionally attempted to take you out of the race. 

on the other hand, the fia was adamant that if this happened again, you were going to face consequences. you would have to shell out a pretty penny for fines, and then you would be immediately disqualified from three future races, deeming you unable to participate.

although they were merciful, the fia made it very clear that since it was your first offense, they were going to be fair.. 

however, if there was a next time, they would not be so kind. 

a crisp knock rang out, startling you. 

springing to your feet, you open the door, an older man smiling in greeting. 

“you must be golden girl,” sticking out his right hand, he dips his head, “i’m theodore. i’ll be your driver to brackley this evening. i am here to not only be your escort, but to tend to anything you may need. mr. wolff made it very clear that you were not to fret over a single thing.”

“good morning,” the corners of your lips curl into a quaint smile as you shake his hand, “thank you. i’m eager to see the english countryside.”

“i’ll handle your bags ma’am,” theodore clears his throat, “you just take it easy.”

“will do,” you nod, “how long is the drive?”

“about an hour and a half,” theodore responds curtly, slinging your carry-on around his shoulder, “don’t worry, it’s not too boring. follow me this way, my lady. our chariot awaits!”

following him down the hall, he presses the button for the elevator. there’s a silence between you, but not an uncomfortable one. theodore’s presence was warm, inviting even.

upon meeting him, you understood why he was toto’s right-hand driver. once he escorted you to the car, he opens the door for you, ushering you inside. when you settle into the backseat, you notice the glint of a redbull can, along with your favorite snacks and candy. 

“mr. wolff wanted to ensure you wouldn’t be hungry,” theodore states as he climbs into the driver’s seat, pressing the button for the ignition, “he told me that you can be a little cranky if you don’t have any snacks.”

“oh? he said that?” a giggle bubbles up in your throat, “did he say anything else about me?”

“oh yes,” theodore chuckles, turning the gear shift, “he’s told me all about you. to be quite frank, he hasn’t shut up about you the last week or so.”

“so you know who i am?”

“of course i do,” theodore nods, flashing you a grin in the rearview mirror, “you’re one of the best formula one drivers on the grid. you drive for williams racing. you’ve only won one grand prix, but i believe you’ll win a few more this season. your hometown is in yuma, arizona. you’re twenty-two years old, and from what toto has shared with me, you have a very bright future ahead.”

“are you a formula one fan?” you arch a brow, punching open the can of redbull. 

“who isn’t?” he shrugs, “well, ms. golden girl, we are going to begin our journey. if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to speak up. if you’d like, you can tell me a little bit more about yourself. we will have plenty of time.”

as theodore promised, the drive to brackley was painless. yet, as the car pulls up to the gate, your heart skips a beat.

this was no quaint english cottage.

toto’s brackley residence was a sleek and sprawling two-story home, a black and white exterior with massive, thick windows. your jaw almost drops, and theodore notices, letting out a hearty laugh, “don’t act so shocked, golden girl. i’m sure you’re aware toto is a very wealthy man.”

“i thought he would have kept things somewhat simple.”

“oh love,” theodore shakes his head, “you and i both know that toto is anything but simple.”

rolling down the window, theodore punches in a code, the gate sliding open. as the car lurches up the drive, your heart thumps in your rib-cage, blood roaring in your ears. 

this was really happening. 

you were really staying with toto. 

“nervous?” theodore senses the shift in energy, “you have no reason to be nervous. he’s been anticipating your arrival. he’ll be happy to see you.”

“thank you,” you manage to muster a meek smile, “i-i just didn’t think we would get this far.”

“well savor the time together. time flies, especially in our world. one day you’re at a track, the next you’re in another country. he adores you, golden girl. so don’t you fret about that. just relax, and enjoy your time. i will be here in a couple of days to bring you to the airport for your departure to sazuka.” 

“thank you,” at his words, you can’t help but let out a sigh of relief, “i look forward to our next drive together!”

“as do i,” shifting the gears, theodore puts the car in park, slipping out of the driver’s seat, “we have arrived. let me get your bags.”

he strolls over to your door, opening it as you clamber out, stretching your sore legs.

no matter how much time you spent in a car, there was always that persisting stiffness. 

you’d probably need a double-knee replacement by the time you were forty, but that was the least of your worries. 

out of the corner of your eye, you notice a figure strolling towards the car. with the large stature, you knew it could only be one particular individual. 

he’s dressed in a royal blue button-up, paired with khaki slacks. on his feet are earth-toned dress shoes. the blue hue of the button-up complements his dark hair, almost brightening his features, giving them a youthful glow. tufts of his hair are all over as the wind blows. 

yet, he looks as gorgeous as ever, his toned muscles rippling under the thin fabric of the button-up. 

“welcome to brackley schatzi,” the grin enveloping his face is radiant, “i hope the drive wasn’t too bad.”

“not at all,” you shake your head, the team principal nearly sucking the wind out of your lungs as he wraps his arms around you, squishing you against his chest. 

“i missed you so much,” tender lips connect with your cheek, “good afternoon, theo! did she behave herself?”

“of course,” theodore promptly places your bag next to the entrance, suitcase in tow, “i have another commitment here soon, mr. wolff. i hope it is all right i placed her bags next to the door?” 

“don’t worry about it,” toto’s fingers find yours, intertwining them together, “i’ll get them. please drive safe, theo.”

“i will, mr. wolff,” theodore dips his head, turning to you, he takes your hand, shaking it, “it was lovely to meet you. i look forward to our next meeting, golden girl. enjoy your time together, you two!”

“we will,” toto squeezes your hand, “goodbye, theo.”

��goodbye, mr. wolff!” theodore spins on his heel, making his way to the car, “behave, you two!”

in response, toto gives a thumbs up, theodore slipping back into the driver’s seat. as he peels off, toto shifts his body, facing you.

“charming, isn’t he?”

“he’s great! kept me entertained the whole drive!”

“i told him you have a short attention span so to keep you occupied,” toto shooks you a wink, earning an eye roll. 

“i can’t stand you.”

“you’re standing right now, aren’t you?” his chuckle is light, “come, let’s head on in. i have lunch waiting for us.”

“you made me lunch?” 

“yes, i’m going to drive you all the way out here just so starve you,” he scoffs, yet his tone says otherwise, “i have food ready. and wine, if you want some.”

“don’t tell me you want to get me drunk so i’ll confess all my secrets.”

“consider that my new goal for the afternoon,” toto grabs your bag, along with your suitcase. pushing open the door, he clears his throat, “welcome to my home away from home.”

as you step in the entrance, your eyes widen, lips parting.  

the space was truly a reflection of toto. refined and elegant, with a hints of charm. the marble floors gleam under the soft lighting, rays of sun shining through the vast windows. the walls were covered in a menagerie of decor, from pieces of art to mercedes memorabilia. it was not the typical billionaire’s home, where the air felt sterile and cold. 

this place was warm and full of life, coaxing you to stay. 

“cat got your tongue?” his breath fans against your ear, a hand gliding along your back, “follow me, schatzi.”

“your home is beautiful.”

glancing over his shoulder, you are met with his gorgeous smile, dimples and all, “thank you, love. i’m glad you like it.”

trailing behind the austrian, you stroll down a long hallway, turning into the last room on the left. toto places your bag and suitcase next to a glass door, “this is my bedroom. you’ll be staying here with me.”

“straight to the bedroom huh?” you fold your arms across your chest, teasing, “you just couldn’t wait–”

“come here,” toto growls, hands grasping your wrists, bringing you in, “no, i can’t wait.”

looking up, you match his gaze, cocking your head, “what are you going to do about it?”

at your rebuttal, toto’s eyes narrow, “what do you think i’m going to do?”

“fuck me.”

“hmmmm,” he hums, leaning in, “you’re right, schatzi. i am going to fuck you. i’m going to fuck you till you’re weeping me for me to stop.”

“weeping?” your hands roam, tugging on his button-up, “i’d like to see you try.”

“oh schatzi,” he tsks, “you don’t know what you’re in for.”

“show me then.”

“i will,” lips ghost over yours, “i’ll show you how badly i missed you baby.”

as he kisses you, it’s tender at first, brimmed with the sweetness of reunion. one of his hands wraps around the base of your neck, tilting your head back as his tongue gains access to your mouth, the tang of redbull tracing your mouth. yet, as you whimper, a fiery hunger sets ablaze.

fuck, he missed you. 

he missed you more than he liked to admit.

tension hangs thick, clouding the space as his mouth places sloppy, wet kisses down your jawline, finding your neck. nipping gently, it takes every fiber in his being to resist the urge to just mark you all over. to leave marks where they could see. to make them wonder who was doing this to you.

but he couldn’t. not there. 

in response, your hips buck forward, grinding against his. toto groans, his head rolling back. 

there was not a single coherent thought in his mind. 

only lust. and fuck, was it consuming him whole. 

scooping you into his arms, he brings you over to the bed, your back meeting with the plush mattress. 

“i can’t wait,” he pants, chest heaving, “i can’t wait any longer. i need you.”

“then take me,” your words drip like honey, oh so sweet, “make me yours, toto.”

jesus fucking christ.

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. right here, right now.

there was no going back. 

he ached for it. he yearned for it. the fantasy flooded his dreams at night.

the things he wanted to do to you? 

downright filthy. sinful, even 

he couldn’t lose his inhibitions. not yet. he had to hang on. 

however, at this point, toto was hanging on by a thread. 

peeling your leggings and panties off, he tosses them to the floor, “sit up.”

you obey, nearly trembling with anticipation as fingertips hook the hem of your crewneck, pulling it over your head. nimbly, he hovers over you, finding the clasps of your bra. he undoes them, a crimson hue dusting his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you completely naked beneath him. 

god, you were absolutely breathtaking. 

every inch of you was stunning. every scar. every mole. every freckle. every stretch mark. 

you were so fucking beautiful. 

his hands fly to his button-up, eager for what was to come. 

yet, your hands find his, “let me.”

toto bites his tongue as you carefully undo the buttons of his shirt, his cock twitching, aching for your touch as your fingers delve towards his belt. you unbuckle it, tilting your head back, batting your thick lashes.

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

could this moment last forever? 

“toto.”

“yes?”

“i-i don’t know if i can take it all,” there’s apprehension inflected in your tone, almost as if you were embarrassed, “to be honest, i’ve never–”

oh god. 

this was going to ruin him.

just like he was going to ruin you.

“don’t worry,” a tender hand cups your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your cheekbone, “i’ll go slow. i won’t make you take it all. i’ll take care of you baby, i promise.”

you nod, lips pursed as you tug on his slacks, hooking the hem of his boxers, “you’re just so fucking big. like holy shit.”

pride swells within the austrian for a moment, a chuckle rumbling in his chest, “i promise you that it’s not as big as you think.”

“can i see for myself?” the question is so innocent, so pure. 

yeah, he was going to ruin you.

he was going to make a mess out of you. 

“lay down schatzi,” he orders, authority oozing into the words. 

kicking off his slacks, he curses slightly as his boxers stick around one of his ankles. this wasn’t going to be perfect, but he wanted it to be. for you. 

he wanted this to be a moment you remembered for the rest of your life. he wanted this memory to fill your thoughts every second of every day. he wanted you to touch yourself to this, desperate and oh so wet, throbbing for him. yearning for his mouth. for his touch. for him.

carefully, he climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. as you look down, you can feel his gaze searing into you, burning right through. 

his cock was far bigger than your fantasies. it was thick, approximately eight or nine inches. you couldn’t tell. his tip was tinged pink, the glisten of precum catching in the light. veins wrapped around the length, throbbing as your hand wrapped around its base.

“fuck,” as he moans, you lick your lips, realizing how much you loved the sound that just filled your ears, “let me feel you, please.”

“please toto.”

swallowing thickly, he inhales sharply as he positions his tip at your entrance. applying pressure, a whimper rings out as he pushes in, your walls stretching. 

your pussy was heaven. absolutely perfect as it wrapped around his cock, begging for more as he pushed further and further. you were absolutely drenched, the juices slick and oh so sickeningly sweet. he didn’t even have to taste you to know. he just knew you were sweet. like pure ambrosia. 

perhaps he could get a taste.

“toto,” your lashes flutter, his name so perfect from your lips, “you feel–”

“your pussy is perfect,” he finds a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of your tight hole, “absolutely perfect baby. fuck, you’re perfect.”

skin connects with skin, the temperature of the room elevated as his hands found yours, pinning them to the bed. lips collide, the kisses desperate, hungry and bursting with need. as he picks up the pace, moans fill his mouth. 

fuck, it felt like he was going to split you into two. 

“t-toto,” there it was again, his name. music to his ears.

“yes baby?” a sheen of sweat clings to his forehead, tufts of hair dampened, “what is it? does it hurt? do you need me to slow down?”

“no. fuck me. just fuck me.”

oh god. 

oh, fuck. 

his cock twitches, the pleasure building in your abdomen as the tip brushes your g-spot, back arching, begging to be closer. closer to him.

could you be any closer to him in this moment? was it even possible?

before you know it, his arms wrap around your frame, picking you up off the mattress. he holds you close to his chest, one hand holding your head, cupping the back of your skull. the other remains on your lower back, gripping you tightly as the new angle sends bliss rippling all throughout your body.

he fucks you, and god there was no holding back. his cock was pounding into you now, showing no mercy. your ass slaps against his thighs, filthy noises flooding the space. 

as you bounce, you tense, your walls practically squeezing him, “toto, oh my god, i’m going–”

“good girl,” his coos, “be a good girl, baby. cum for me.”

as you get closer and closer, toto watches. fuck, the way your lips were parted ever so slightly. the way hairs clung to your forehead. the way your lashes fluttered. all he could see was pleasure. pure, intense pleasure. 

you unravel, coming undone. 

that sight alone was enough to make him cum.

“come here,” toto hisses through gritted teeth, “come here baby.”

the moment his lips mold with yours, you feel his cock throb, pumping threads of cum into your weeping hole. your muscles spasm, shuddering as he pulls out. 

the two of you study one another for a moment, catching your breath. fingertips brush stray hairs from your temple. 

“i’m sorry.”

“for?” you nuzzle into his collarbone, relishing the way his cologne lingered, mixing with his natural scent. 

“going too far.”

“that was not too far.”

tenderly, the austrian pulls you down with him, letting out a sigh as his head hits the pillow. your head remains against his chest, admiring the definition and tone for a moment. he peppers kisses along your forehead, browbone, and cheeks. 

“if i ever go too far, let me know.”

“i think we’re both in too deep,” you murmur, “you’re lucky you had the blinds drawn.” 

“that would be something,” his chest vibrates as he speaks, “could you imagine? some random mercedes intern witnessing the team principal fucking the most beautiful woman on the planet?”

however, a gleam catches your eye.

on his left ring finger, your heart sinks as you notice the ring. 

his wedding band.

toto senses your silence, the way you tensed up against him, “what is it schatzi?”

“why are you still wearing your wedding band?”

oh, so you had noticed.

“it’s complicated.”

“complicated?” your voice falters as you prop yourself up with your elbow so you could meet his gaze, “you’re wearing your fucking wedding ring. it’s not that complicated.”

“yes, i am, wearing my ring,” he exhales, “would you prefer me to take it off? it has no meaning anymore. susie and i are divorced. we finalized it last december. when we signed the papers, we made a mutual agreement to wear our wedding bands when we were in the public eye. it keeps the speculations at bay. it’s mostly for the sake of my children. and for her sake. we respect one another and i would hate for her hard work to be diminished by rumors and gossip.”

although his words were sincere, your heart races still, anxiety a swirling torrent in your stomach, “how long have you been separated?”

“almost three years. we separated in july of 2021.” 

“oh,” you suck in a breath, shame washing over you, “i-i’m sorry for the sudden questions. i just–”

“it would complicate your feelings for me. and no one wants too mess around with a married man. i get it baby, i really do.”

although he provided a very base-level explanation of his failed marriage, toto was more than willing to go into more depth. that is, if you wanted. more than anything, he wanted you to know. that aspect was becoming increasingly frustrating, as the team principal tried to maintain that dominant, bold, persona.

you were making him weak. his little soft spot. 

well, not so little these days. 

“i cannot stand how well you read me,” rolling your eyes, you turn your back to him.

“don’t turn your back on me now,” he tsks, “do you believe me, schatzi?”

“i don’t think you could ever lie to me.”

“i couldn’t,” toto leans over, placing soft kisses all over your shoulders, “i think it would destroy me. the guilt would be too much to bear.”

“if we’re spilling secrets now,” you roll over, face-to-face once again, “i have another question for you.”

“all right.”

“why did you approach james about my contract behind my back?” 

for once, the team principal is caught by surprise, his heart skipping a beat. 

the hurt plastered across your features is clear, your brows furrowed, eyes narrowed. there’s a glimmer of anguish in their depths, slightly glossy from the threat of tears. 

“i wanted to gauge how he felt if you were to leave williams,” that was the truth, really, no other intentions behind it, “he was not too keen to discuss it, but i just wanted to know how upset he would be if you were to sign with another team. i did it for you, to soften the blow.”

“soften the blow?”

“yes,” toto nods, “to soften the blow when you tell him you’re leaving williams and signing with mercedes.”

“you don’t know that for–”

“but i do,” his voice hardens, “i do know. we can’t just lay here and deny that in your heart, you want to be with me at mercedes. you’ve made the decision already. you just haven’t figured out how you’re going to approach james, alex, or your team.”

biting your tongue, you turn your head, averting his gaze.

toto was right. you had made your decision. 

it was just a matter of time before you had to face the facts. 

“i’m right, aren’t i?” 

“you are,” you huff, squeezing your eyes shut, “i-i just don’t know how to tell everyone. i don’t know how to tell my parents. i don’t know how to bring it up to james. it’s just so.. fuck. it’s so fucking overwhelming to think about.”

“then let me help you.”

“how?” you inquire, “how would you possibly do that?”

“i’ll keep my distance from here on out, but i will help you draft up a letter that you can give to james. or, i can help you practice what you’re going to say. just let me help you schatzi,” fingers grasp your chin, turning your head. 

“you hear me? i’ll help you.”

“can we just worry about it later?” 

“of course,” strong arms envelop your frame, drawing you in against his body, “for now, we can snuggle. would you like that?”

“i would.”

your tough exterior completely crumbles as his mouth hovers by your ear, murmuring words in german. desperately, you ache to know what he said. was it something important? or just sweet nothings? 

sometimes he was a difficult man to decipher.

“hey, have you opened that gift yet? the one i brought to you in jeddah?”

“no,” you admit, heat billowing into your cheeks, “i have a hard time accepting gifts.”

“clearly.”

before you can respond, he’s up from the bed, strolling over to your bags. unzipping your carry-on, he searches for that parcel. fishing it out of your bag, he sets in on the bed, sliding on his boxers before plopping it in front of you.

“open it. right now.”

“right now?” you echo, “toto, i–”

“open it.”

“fine,” nimbly, your fingers untie the bow, peeling away the wrapper. 

underneath the paper, there is a tiny velvet box. it’s long and slender, rectangular in shape.

“what is this?”

“open it and you’ll know,” toto urges, following your every move, anticipating your reaction.

opening the box, your heart swells at the sight before you.

it’s a bracelet, a dainty figaro chain, complete with a charm. the charm is an outline of the saudi arabian track. picking it up, you inspect it, noticing a date engraved on the backside of the charm. 

“how were you able to get this so quickly after the race?” 

“i have my ways,” toto bears a sheepish grin, “do you like it?”

“like it? i love it.”

well, you didn’t love it. you fucking adored it. it was perfect, and so you. it was something that you could wear everyday, a constant reminder of the years of effort to get you here. not to mention it was gorgeous, the chain shiny, freshly polished. 

a hand reaches out, plucking the chain from the box. his brows are knit together with concentration as he slips the chain around your wrist, ensuring it’s safely clasped.

“i figured it would be something you could always wear. a reminder of when you made history.”

“it’s beautiful,” sitting up, you shift your weight to your knees as you wrap your arms around his neck, “thank you, toto.”

“always, schatzi. don’t worry, i will always spoil you.”

as toto nuzzles into the crook of your neck, he was well aware of one thing.

you had made your decision. 

you hadn’t outright said it, but he knew you made your decision. 

you would be signing to mercedes for the 2025 season. 

you were finally going to be by his side every day. 

there was no more in-between. no more will she or won’t she. no more nights of him lying awake, wondering where you stood. no more driving himself insane pondering all of the possibilities that could unravel. 

he had you. 

you were all his now. 

and god, did that leave such a sweet taste in his mouth. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @joalslibrary @martwll @prettiest-at-the-party @pucksandpower @kravitzwhore @toldyouitwasamelodrama @annewithaneofthegreengable @persona1lies @zoeyjadetice2010 @whoisss @sinners-98-world

if i missed anyone, please let me know! also, you are more than welcome to be added to the taglist! thank you for reading! <3

[togrowoldinv]

Memory

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You feel like you’ve met her before, but you just can’t remember when or how. It turns out there’s a lot you don’t remember

Note: Hey y’all. I have been swamped these last couple of weeks studying for and taking a part of the cpa exam, but I finally had a free moment to have some fun. I went and saw Argylle, so this is loosely inspired by that. Enjoy it!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

The room is silent aside from the clicks of a keyboard as Natasha tries to break through a firewall. She’s smart, but the person who created it is slightly smarter than her.

The redhead smirks when she is one step from breaking through, but her cheekiness doesn’t last. An alarm sounds and she’s met with at least ten agents swarming all around her.

“Oh hey, guess you guys found the party,” she says in her usual cool under pressure tone.

She uses the agents’ hesitation to begin attacking them to deal the first blows. She takes them down two at a time until there’s only one left. She knows who he is.

“Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?” Natasha asks.

“You know what I want,” he says.

“And you know what I want,” Nat replies.

The two of them keep their guns in ready position. Nat alerted for backup, but she knows most likely she’ll have to handle this on her own.

“Where is the woman?” The man asks. He shakes his gun at Nat. She sees a weakness in the way he’s holding it. He won’t last.

“If you give me the intel, I’ll give you her location,” Nat says.

“You’re lying!”

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m telling you the truth. They’re never really that different, right?”

“Drop your weapon,” he tries another tactic.

Natasha just smirks. She moves her left arm down and the man mistakenly thinks she’s giving in. The moment he shifts his aim Nat takes a shot at him. It’s an easy shot for her.

He goes down and Nat finishes gathering her data from the computer before she quickly gets out of the building. That backup she was waiting for finally arrives as she’s making her way outside.

“Thanks for the help,” she says sarcastically as Steve opens the door for her.

“Sorry,” he says. “We can’t be everywhere all the time. What were you even doing here?”

“Gathering intel,” Nat says simply. She shows him the flash drive and he just shakes his head. “The more I can find out the better I can help her, Steve. It’s an easy choice to make.”

“Nat, she’s so far gone,” he tries. “It might be worth stopping.”

“I’ll never give up on her. She’ll be herself again. I know it,” Natasha says. “Now, will you help me get this to Stark to decode?”

“Of course I’ll help you, Romanoff.”

She nods in thanks. For the rest of the drive, Natasha thinks about what her next step should be. There’s no easy fix to this situation. She needs to go where her mind works best.

Meanwhile, you are working on cleaning tables when the most beautiful woman walks in. You’ve seen her in here several times since you started working here.

She always sits at the table in the corner and orders coffee and a piece of chocolate pie. It’s always the same thing. You’ve never waited on her before, but somehow the stars align today and you’re covering that section.

You walk to her table and take a deep breath. She’s even more beautiful from this close up.

“Hey, how are you today?” You ask her.

“I’m okay,” she replies. “How are you?”

“Can’t complain,” you say. It’s your typical response when a customer asks you that question. “What can I get for you, ma’am?”

She orders her usual. You feel her eyes linger on you as you pour the coffee and bring her slice of pie to the table.

Something feels familiar about the way she smiles at you in thanks.

“Do I know you?” You ask her. She doesn’t reply, but you notice she looks away from you. “Sorry, it’s just that I had some memory loss so I’m just not quite sure who I know at this point.”

“Oh, I’m very sorry,” she says. “I don’t think we know each other though, no.”

“You seem familiar,” you tell her.

“Well, I am an Avenger so maybe that’s it,” she says. “I’m Natasha.”

“Right. The superheroes. It’s nice to meet you, Natasha,” you say. “I’m y/n.”

You hold out your hand for her to shake. When she does, you swear there’s still a lingering feeling that you know her. Maybe you’ve just seen her on television.

“I better get back to work,” you say.

“Nice to meet you, y/n,” Natasha says.

She stands from her chair and drops cash on the table. Walking towards the door, she stops short and turns back to look at you. You offer her a smile that she returns.

With that, she disappears into the city. The rest of the day goes by seemingly without any other excitement. You can’t stop thinking about your interaction with the woman, which is why you thought you were dreaming when she shows up at your door.

You blink hard to try and wake up, but the reality is that she’s truly here.

“Natasha?” You ask confusedly.

“I don’t have time to explain,” she says. “Can I come in?”

“I- what? Okay?”

She takes that as a yes. She walks inside and goes straight to the corner of the room where she picks up a piece of the floor to reveal a secret storage area.

Natasha fills her bag with the weapons that were stored under the floor.

“What is happening?” You ask her.

“Just trust me,” Nat says.

“I just met you today and you somehow know about this secret area of my house I didn’t even know about. And I’m supposed to trust you?”

“Yes,” Natasha replies. “Come on. Get some shoes on. We have two minutes.”

“Two minutes before what?”

She doesn’t get the chance to answer before a loud bang comes from outside. A series of car doors close simultaneously.

“Look, I know you don’t know me but you have to trust me. These guys are after you and if we don’t bail in the next thirty seconds we’re dead. Got it?” Natasha says.

“What?” You ask. It seems to be the only word in your vocabulary right now.

She grabs your hand and pulls you through your house. Once you’re outside, you go through the fence to the neighbors yard.

“Here,” Nat says, pulling you to a motorcycle that’s waiting there.

“I am not riding on that,” you say.

“Then you’ll be dead within minutes. Come on, y/n,” Nat says. She puts the helmet on your head involuntarily.

You have no choice but to listen to her. Hopping onto the bike, you hold on tight to her middle as she drives through the streets. At some point, a van is tailing the two of you. Natasha turns down every alleyway and street she can to get you away from the tail.

“When I say jump, you’ve got to jump!” Nat says over the roar of the engine.

“What?”

You’re quickly approaching a road that you can see has no end. She drives full speed ahead before letting go of the handlebars.

“Jump!” Nat shouts.

You cling onto her as you both jump. You have no idea how far the drop is but somehow you land in water. Natasha pulls you to the surface quickly.

You get to shore and try to gather yourself some. You’re so confused about all of this.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“Am I okay?” You ask her. “Seriously, you’re asking me that? I don’t know who you are or what’s happening. We just got chased by a van through town and jumped off a motorcycle into a fucking lake. Do you think I’m okay?”

The woman has the audacity to smile at your words.

“I’m sorry, do you think this is funny?” You ask her, feeling fury seethe inside you.

“No,” Natasha says too quickly. “No, it’s just- nevermind. We have to get to the Avenger’s compound.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you tell her matter of factly.

“Y/n-“

“Don’t!” You interrupt her. “Just leave me alone.”

Nat raises her hands in surrender and watches as you walk away. She lets you get ten steps ahead before she follows after you.

“I told you to let me be.”

“You’re up there all alone. I just happen to be walking in the same direction,” Natasha reasons. “Although, the compound is the other way.”

Despite the fact that you were just doing insanely dangerous tasks with her, you feel a certain safety in her presence.

“Why should I go with you?” You pose a question.

You notice her hesitation in answering. Like she wants to tell you something but she just can’t.

“If you just come with me, I’ll explain everything there. Okay? Please give me a chance,” Nat says. “I won’t be responsible for them finding you and finishing the job.”

“What job? I’m just a waitress. Who could I possibly have wronged?”

“I promise I’ll explain later,” Nat says. “Please follow me.”

You relent and follow her. There’s no reason for you to trust her but somehow you do. It doesn’t take long to get to the compound once Nat hot wires a car.

“Y/n?” A girl asks when you are inside. You look at her despondently and she frowns. Natasha gives he’s her a look.

You follow Natasha to what seems to be a laboratory. There’s a large screen on the wall.

“Ah welcome,” a man says. You recognize him as Iron Man. “You’re just in time.”

“For?” You ask.

“The truth,” another man answers. You’re pretty sure he’s Captain America.

Before you can speak again, photos of you litter the screen. There are some of just you and some of you and the other Avengers.

“What the hell?” You wonder aloud.

“Y/n, we wanted you to remember on your own but it’s taking too long,” Tony Stark explains. “Natasha tried to jog your memory just by being in your presence, but that didn’t work.”

“So I do know you?” You ask the woman.

“You know all of us, y/n. You’re an Avenger.”

“But I’m- no. I’m a waitress,” you say. Your head feels like it’s spinning.

“That’s what they made you think, but you’re not. You’re a special agent,” Steve says. “And one of the best.”

“I don’t believe you. This is all a joke, right?”

“It’s not a joke, y/n. Why do you think we knew those people were after you? Or that I knew about the floor in your house?” Natasha asks.

“That’s easy. You’ve been spying on me.”

“No,” she says simply.

“Then how?” No response. “This is just insane. I’m leaving.”

You start to walk away. You hear Natasha’s footsteps behind you.

“Natasha,” a warning voice comes from Tony. “Don’t.”

“You know what, you go ahead. Take a car of ours, y/n,” she says.

She holds up a pair of keys. You reach for them, but instead of giving them to you she throws a punch your way.

You surprisingly dodge it with ease. Natasha smirks at the way you look at your arms in confusion.

“How did I do that?”

“Come on, throw one,” she taunts you.

You do your best to punch her, but of course she dodges it. You spar back and forth until you’ve both had enough.

“Great, now that that’s over. Do you believe us?” Tony asks.

“I’m not sure,” you say. “How could I not know I’m an agent?”

“Brainwashing,” Natasha answers. “Very effective brainwashing.”

“But why?”

“Because you were going to uncover a huge invasion of Hydra in the government,” Steve explains. “We still can’t find the data that you had before they took it from you and erased all of your memories.”

“So the memory loss, that was a real feeling I was having?”

“It was,” Nat says. “The reason why wasn’t a car accident as they told you though. They captured you and essentially knocked you senseless.”

You rub your hands over your face as you try to take all of this in. Just a few hours ago you thought you knew who you were, but they’re telling you something completely different.

“We wanted you to remember on your own, so it might not be so overwhelming,” Nat says.

“So, we’re all what? Coworkers? Friends? I don’t remember any of you, or anything you’re describing,” you say.

“We’re friends,” Steve says. “You’re friends with all of us and with Nat-“

“Steve,” Nat interrupts. “She doesn’t need to hear that right now.”

“I don’t need to hear what?”

There are shouts down the hallway that interrupt your conversation. Tony suits up and Steve grabs his shield.

“Get her to safety,” he tells Nat.

She grabs your hand and takes you down the hallway to a door and down a ton of stairs. Nat locks a door behind her once you’ve reached the lowest level.

“They’ll handle them,” Nat says. “But the further you are from the fight the better.”

“What was Steve going to say?”

“Hm?”

“About you and me,” you prompt her.

Natasha tears her eyes from yours much the same way she did when you questioned if you knew her earlier.

“Natasha, please just tell me. Clearly, everything I thought I knew was a lie. What’s one more thing?”

“Okay,” she agrees. “We were- you and I were together.”

“Together?”

She nods.

“Define together. Like dating?”

“Kind of yeah,” she says. You look at her for more details. The silence prompts her to continue. “We were married. We are technically married.”

“Oh,” you say.

“Yeah. I didn’t think you were ready to learn that,” Nat says.

“So that’s why you knew your way around my place?”

“Our place,” she says. “But they moved all of my stuff out before you went back there.”

“Natasha, I don’t- I can’t remember anything,” you say.

“I know,” Nat says sadly. “We kept our distance once we realized what they did to you, but we’ve never stopped making sure you were safe.”

You hear the sound of the fight getting closer. Natasha reaches for your hand. She places a loaded gun in your palm.

“I want to remember.”

“You will,” Nat says. “But right now, you’ve got to fight.”

To be continued…

[redr0sewrites]

Striker x Reader General Hcs

guysguysguys plsssss hes soooo- cowboys r a guilty pleasure of mine

🥀Cw: fluff, smut, switch!striker, riding + face riding, oral, somno

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

sfw:

striker never expected to have a real, long term partner, especially with his line of work

sure he's had hookups and flings over the years, but you really threw him off his feet

there was something about you that really dazzled striker, and he knew that you were the one

he dates to marry, and that is truly reflected in how he treats you

striker is a gentleman when he's courting you, he'll do the basics like holding the door for you and giving you gifts, but he somehow always finds a way to take it a step further.

you're both walking down the street and you have to step over a puddle? no need to worry, striker will scoop you up and carry you right over. you ran out of your favorite food while you're craving it? don't fret, striker will run to the store and grab it for you without a second thought

this is all before you both are even together! hes truly a sweetheart towards you, and it shocks everyone how you've managed to tame the wild assassin

striker definitely has a lot of nicknames for you, all circulating around his western class

poppet, sugar, darlin', doll, sugar, and lil' lady (if ur fem) are all ones you'll definitely hear

when talking about you to others, he'll call you "the apple of his eye" or other sappy things like that

he knows how dangerous his job is, and being associated with him can put you in danger. because of that, hes a little reluctant to court you, so he may give slightly mixed signals at first when hes feeling anxious about your safety

it wont take long for him to decide what he wants, but striker definitely wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself

even before you're together he offers you self defense lessons, and is always trying to keep an eye out for you to make sure you're safe

hes protective, but he also trusts you a lot and won't try to interfere with your life or anything, he just wants to make sure you're okay

underneath his tough persona, striker definitely has a soft, domestic vibe. as previously stated, he's the type to want to get married, and even if you don't, he still wants to have a good bond with you

hes a really great person to live with, he def is the type to cook and clean for you and overall carries his weight around the house

he sees it as a respect thing more than anything, and wants you to know how devoted he is to you and that he doesn't expect you to take care of him

he never forces you to do anything though, you can't tell me that he wouldn't absolutely despise people who force their spouses to cook and clean for them. he thinks relationships should be equal, and that you both should share the weight of household responsibilities

i dont think striker is the type to expect much from his partner if that makes sense? he would never want to put pressure on you to be with him or to carry any burdens. he knows how dangerous his job is, and will occasionally ask you if you're still comfortable with him and everything he does

everytime you say yes, he gets this wide eyed grin and ruffles your hair. a part of him is always afraid of pushing you away, its not easy to date a literal assassin, but the fact that you love him and that you want to be with him amazes striker every time

hes def an acts of service guy through and through, striker's actions always speak louder than anything

because his job is so busy, he sometimes works super late or has to get up ridiculously early. striker often feels pretty bad about his crazy working hours, and always dotes on you if you stay up late waiting for him and kisses you on the cheek everytime he has to leave

HE LIKES TO PLAY MUSIC FOR YOU ON HIS GUITAR AND HE'LL SING SONGS FOR YOU

striker also really enjoys dancing with you, and you two r definitely the type to slow dance in the kitchen sorry i don't make the rules

you're one of the few people he lets touch his cowboy hat, and also the only person who has ever ridden Bombshell besides him <3

he keeps a photo of you in his wallet/jacket and looks at it after rough missions

nsfw

yk the phrase "wear the cowboy hat, ride the cowboy"? or "save a horse, ride a cowboy?" yea those both were made for him btw

the cowboy hat stays on during sex, but not on him /hj

seriously tho, he loves the sight of you wearing nothing but his hat, and its one of the quickest ways to rile him up

striker LOVES and i mean LOVESSS when you ride him

theres something so exhilarating about seeing you on top, and after a long, stressful mission, there's something so pleasing about just letting you take the reins and ride him senseless

his fav positions are cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, face sitting, missionary, mating press, pretty much anything where he can see your face

striker is big on eye contact, whether hes top or bottom he loves the intimacy of eye contact

he memorizes everything about your body, what makes you tick, where to touch you that will make you moan loudest, your most sensitive spots, he has pleasuring you down to an art

def into bondage and shibari, whether its you tying him up or him tying you up, he loves it

striker likes the intricacies of shibari, but will always check that the ropes aren't too tight (unless you want it that way... in that case he'll indulge you ;)

he is soooo talkative, he loves praising you and degrading you and he talks you through every orgasm

when hes dom, striker is more of a groaner, he'll let out these throaty, deep rumbles and groans while whispering about how fucking good you make him feel in the deepest, most delicious voice ever

when hes in a more submissive mood i think hes a little quieter, he'll let out some breathy pants and moans but won't be super vocal

hes into (consensual) contact play and doesn't mind being pushed around. i also think he'd have a gun kink and would face fuck you with a gun (never loaded tho, you're far too precious to risk hurting)

ORAL FIXATION.

striker loves giving, like hes def a giver 100% and loves it when you ride his face

he wants you to SIT on his face, in his opinion his face is your throne and it doesn't matter how big you are, strikers a strong guy and will take all of your weight without a second thought

hes a gentleman, he makes you cum at least twice during foreplay before he even actually fucks you

striker is into somno, you both have def had convos about him fucking you in your sleep before

he comes home so late for work sometimes, and the sight of you sleeping on the couch, waiting just for him is so adorable

he likes teasing you and hearing you're unfiltered gasps and moans, the way your body responds to his simple touches without even being awake turns him on a lot

striker also loves it when you moan his name in your sleep, he has a secret possessive side and the fact that you're thinking about him even in your dreams is just so hot to him

sometimes though it'll be the other way around, he'll collapse into bed after a long mission, passing out in mere seconds. meanwhile, you creep into bed with him and give him a handjob, watching as he moans and whispers your name like a prayer. he'll hump into your hand, and sometimes he'll cum so hard he'll wake himself up

when you ask him what he was dreaming about he'll chuckle, but the blush on his cheeks gives him away

when hes sub, striker is like the male version of a pillow prince sometimes. he just wants to lay back and be pampered, theres a part of him that just wants to be loved and taken care of

....mommy/daddy/master kink... what? u hear sum?? i will write ab this...

hes a bit into semi-public sex, but wouldn't ever let anyone actually catch you both. you're body is for his eyes and his eyes alone

striker takes his time undressing you and kissing every inch of your body before the foreplay even starts, and sometimes his tail will rattle a little as he does so. hes just so enamored with you, he can't help it

guysgys GUYSSYYSYSYSYSY RUGERHEHEHSSBSSHSH I FUCKING LOVE STRIKER SM HES MY FAVVV!!!! ALSO HELLUVA BOSS IS OPEN FOR REQS !!

im not gonna make a separate masterlist for helluva boss im just gonna add this to my hazbin masterlist ahshsh

[janaispunk]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @janaispunknotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

[bluejeanstrash]

a sleepy seungcheol = a cuddly seungcheol.

early on in your relationship you’d learned that seungcheol was a cuddly sleeper. it wasn’t necessarily a need for him but just something he liked. you on the other hand, were not.

cuddles before sleeping? perfect. having someone all over you while trying to sleep? not so perfect.

thankfully, you both had come to a happy compromise.

but sometimes, like today, seungcheol would be extra cuddly. he was fast asleep, his body fully on top of yours—face buried in the crook of your neck, and one leg wedged in between yours.

you loved holding him like this—all safe and sound. until he fell asleep that is. because the deeper he slept, the heavier he got. your boyfriend was a buff guy, so now it was borderline uncomfortable.

you feel this pressure against your chest while he rests on you, completely at ease. you’d thought maybe if you tried hard enough you could fall asleep but nope, not possible.

‘cheollie’ you whisper, hoping it’ll be enough to wake him. but he just continues snoring, each snore rumbling through your body.

‘scoups’ you try again, a little louder.

‘CHOI SEUNGCHEOL’ and nothing. he simply moves a little in his sleep, letting out a particularly loud guttural snore.

okay. plan b. if you couldn’t get him off, it was time to slide down. after 2 unsuccessful attempts, you somehow make it, taking in a huge gulp of air on escape. you haven’t even fully turned to the side yet before seungcheol wakes up, upset the source of warmth underneath him is gone. he aimlessly moves his hand on the sheets until he can feel you.

‘where are you going?’ he mumbles sleepily, scooting over to you. ‘don’t..’ one heavy arm wraps around you, pulling you into him.

there’s a soft content hum as he feels your body fit into his.

‘seungcheollie?’ you call out to him sweetly.

‘mmm’

‘you know i can’t sleep like this, hmmn? come on’ you tap his arm signalling him to let go.

he doesn’t budge. instead, he just lets out some noncommittal sounds before nuzzling his face into your hair.

‘come on, let me go okay?’ more taps.

‘no! i don’t want to!’ he whines, kicking his feet under the blanket.

‘cuddle with me’ he pouts, slipping into baby talk. it was seungcheol’s own brand of baby talk that he would whip out only on occasions when he really really wanted something.

‘cheollie, you’re being such a baby’ you complain.

‘mmm, because i am. i’m your baby’ he says defiantly ‘so you should treat me like one’

you know there’s no point trying to convince him when he’s in this mood, so you sigh, deciding to give up and give in.

around 5 minutes passes in complete silence. and then he speaks.

‘you really won’t be able to sleep?’ he asks quietly, the thought of it now bothering him. how could he relax knowing his baby was not comfortable?

‘mmm’ you answer as he detaches himself from you.

‘fine! i’ll give up cuddle time for you!’ he sighs, rolling away. a few minutes later, he sighs again a little louder.

that’s his cue to tell you that you’re supposed to concede and snuggle upto him. but you don’t, having finally found a position that’s hitting all the right spots.

‘you really won’t come to me?’ his voice is so stupidly endearing that it makes you melt. you can’t say no to that.

he smiles as he hears the sheets rustle, your body moving towards him.

with his arms wide open he welcomes you as you rest your head against his chest. ‘i can sleep like this..’ you concede as he grins making sure you’re comfortable but still all wrapped up in him.

[xoxoladyaz]

You're My Heaven, Angel (Paramedic Steve x Rockstar Eddie) - Part 2

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 (Coming Soon)

AN: I just wanted to say a quick THANK YOU to everyone who has been so kind and so supportive of Part 1! I hear you and I, too, want to create a whole series based around this idea. It's a lot of pressure following-up something that's so beloved, but I'm going to give it my best!

Robin must secretly hate Steve.

She must be the most incredible actress in the entire world. She must be the most prolific conman that’s in the business of conman-ing people or whatever. She must have made a blood oath with an elder god during a full moon that no matter how many days or weeks or months or years it took, she would one day make Steve Harrington’s life absolutely miserable. There’s no other reasonable explanation for why she insists on taking the scenic route to Eddie’s room - a scenic route which adds on two additional minutes of travel time instead of heading straight down the hallway (which maybe adds forty seconds tops). 

A route which means Steve has to bear two additional minutes of Eddie loudly introducing him to every single doctor, nurse, patient or family member that they come across on the way to his suite. Never mind that Steve’s worked with most of these doctors and nurses for years now, never mind that he actually goes to Sharla’s poker group when he has Thursdays off with the other fifty-something moms on staff (which Robin never ceases to find absolutely hilarious); no, Eddie is all smiles and arm flourishes, loudly – too loudly – proclaiming that they are now in the presence of his angel, his baby, his angel baby, the love of his life, the apple of his eye, his amor, his partner, his husband – 

“Congratulations, Steve! I didn’t know you got married!” Sue laughs as the entire production passes by. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie blows her a noisy kiss before clearing his throat. He takes a deep breath, and – 

“I’M GETTING MARRIED IN THE MORNING - ”

“Robin, he’s singing again!”

“I know, dingus, I can hear him.”

“DING DONG, THE BELLS ARE GONNA CHIIIIIMMMEEEEEEEE - ”

Steve turns back, risking a glare at Robin mid-step. “Remind me why we’re going the long way around?”

Robin snorts out a laugh, shit-eating grin firmly in place. “Come on, Stevie, we all need the exercise.”

“ – GET ME TO THE CHURCH ON TIMMMMMEEEE – Stevie? Stevie,” Eddie turns and sighs at Steve and okay, Steve can’t tell if Eddie’s eyes are super dilated because of the probable head trauma or if there’s a weird reflection from the fluorescents, but his eyes are, like, legit sparkling up at him. “Steeeeeevieeeee - ”

“Yep, I’m still here.” Eddie grins, flopping to the side so that their joined hands are resting up against his head. He sighs happily, his feet wiggling under the shock blanket, and it’s not cute Steve stop thinking it’s cute – 

“Steve!” He pulls his eyes away just as the gurney comes to a stop in front of Brenda, one of the intake nurses currently on shift. Brenda’s blonde and cute and ethically non-monogamous, but Steve is more of a one and done sort of guy. That doesn’t mean they don’t flirt like crazy anytime they bump into each other, though. (Hey, he’s gotta stay in shape somehow.)

“Looking good today. Is that a new shirt?” She asks with a smirk, her eyes running over his biceps. (It’s not a new shirt, Robin just ran it through the dryer, so it shrunk. Really, he should have gotten rid of it, but it makes his biceps look amazing.)

“Nah, it’s - ”

He has a line. He has a great line. But as soon as he opens his mouth to speak it, he’s cut off by a very loud hissing sound coming from his left and – 

Yep, it’s Eddie. Eddie, who’s glaring at Brenda like they’re mortal enemies. Seriously, it’s a good thing he doesn’t have laser eyes like that one superhero guy because if he did, Brenda would be at risk of getting too tan.

“MINE!” Eddie snaps at the end of his hiss and then, all while still maintaining eye contact with Brenda, he yanks Steve’s hand to his mouth and licks it. And not, like, a gentle lick that you’d get from a puppy. No, Eddie licks his hand like he’s trying to give Steve a tongue bath.

(His first instinct should be to pull away, but instead all Steve can think about it Eddie giving him an actual full body tongue bath - )

“Dude!” Steve exclaims when he does finally pull his hand away. (He hears Robin snort under her breath, clearly having caught onto the fact that his brain broke at the whole licking thing and shit, now he’s thinking about it again - )

“No, MINE!” Eddie growls, and Steve barely has a chance to wipe his hand on his pants before Eddie is grabbing it back, clutching it between both of his hands like it’s his special or something. (Special, was that the word that the guy used? The little creepy guy in that one movie? He needs to text Dustin and ask.)

“Aww, I’m glad to see you’ve finally met someone!” Brenda teases.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve replies distractedly, trying (and failing) to shake one of Eddie’s hands off of his hand because now that they’re actually at his suite, he’s going to need them. “Brenda, this is - ”

“The concussion patient from Lollapalooza, Sarah clued me in,” Brenda says, snapping her gum. “Eddie, right?”

Eddie pauses from wrestling with Steve to sniff at Brenda and honestly, as someone who spent way too much time at country clubs as a child because of his parents, Eddie has the whole I’m-better-than-you-you-poor-person-wearing-Adidas expression locked down. “That’s Mister Eddie to you, Briony.”

Briony? “Who’s Briony?”

Robin kicks the gurney forward with an eye roll and suddenly they’re moving into the suite. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, dingus.”

Eddie finally manages to tear his eyes away from Brenda. He perks his head up at Steve and once Steve’s face is in his line of sight his expression softens, the sparkles coming back in full force. “And it’s such a pretty head, baby.”

Such a pretty head SUCH A PRETTY HEAD – 

“I’ll show you – ow, Robin, seriously?” Steve yelps at Robin’s pinch.

“Stop being horny and help me get him on the bed.”

“I’m - ”

“Don’t listen to her baby, please, please stay horny, and lose the shirt while you’re at it!” Eddie sits up and starts frantically grasping at Steve’s sleeves. “Christ almighty, these arms, arms of heaven, arms of an angel - ” 

“Steve!” Robin barks and shit, he needs to focus. He takes advantage of the fact that Eddie let go of his hand to grab at his shirt and darts down to the other end of the gurney. They lift on a count of three, placing Eddie onto the bed and kicking the wheeled cart out of the way. (Eddie makes a loud WHEEEEEEEEE sound and then immediately goes back to demanding that Steve get naked.) Sarah, who’s followed the procession the entire time, grabs the empty cart and wheels it out of the room just as Brenda steps in.

“Well then, Eddie, let’s get started on intake,” Brenda nods, bringing out her iPad. “Are you ready to answer a few questions?”

“No.”

Robin groans and steps to the side, energetically fluffing and reorganizing Eddie’s pillows so he’s seated up. Somehow Eddie is able to lean around Robin’s wide-armed movements and fix Brenda with yet another piercing glare.

Brenda shoots Steve a look before nodding her head at Eddie.

Right.

“Hey, uh, Eddie, we really need to ask you a few questions - ”

“Hand!” Eddie snaps to look at Steve and sticks his hand towards him. He wiggles his fingers a few times before making a grabby motion. “Hand!”

It’s not cute. It’s totally not cute.

Steve sighs but walks back around from the foot of the bed and places his hand gently in Eddie’s. Eddie links their fingers and squeezes tightly. “Uh, how about now, is now okay to ask a few questions?”

Huffing, Eddie looks at their fingers for a few moments before looking upwards at Steve. Their eyes meet and he grins. “Hi angel,” he lets out a pleased sigh. “I missed you.”

Don’t say it don’t say it DON’T SAY IT - 

“I missed you too, Eds.” 

FUCK.

“Awwwww, my little schmoopers are being all schmoopy-moopy!” Robin sings in her best baby voice. (That’s it, he’s eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.)

“I’m eating the rest of the Chunky Monkey.”

“Uh, like fuck you are.”

“I'd rather have you eat me,” he hears Eddie whisper and yeah, okay, that’s one he’s just going to choose to ignore for the sake of what little sanity he has left.

“Right, okay,” he hears Brenda try to get things back on track. “About those intake questions - ”

“Oh, don’t worry Nurse Brenda,” the lilting voice of Dr. Suzie Henderson floats into the room. “I can take it from here.”

Steve turns just in time to see Suzie strut into the emergency suite. She shoots Brenda a grateful nod and Brenda, with one last wink to Steve, hands her iPad off to Suzie and heads out of the room. 

“Bye Steve!”

“Bye Brenda.”

“Yeah, bye Brittany!”

Suzie has the best laugh in the world, and she lets it fly on her walk over. “Hey Steve,” Suzie grins at him as she makes her way towards the foot of Eddie’s bed. “How are things going today?”

“Oh, good,” Steve replies quickly before turning to look at Eddie. “Eddie, this is Doctor Suzie Henderson, she’s my sister-in-law.”

Eddie slowly scooches his butt backwards so he’s sitting up more. “No, she’s our sister-in-law,” he huffs before turning and smiling at Suzie. “Hey sis!” 

“And you must be Eddie! I heard you were thinking about marrying into the family.” She lets out a quick giggle at those words but then clears her throat and throws her shoulders back. “Well, if you are serious about joining our Steve in holy – or unholy – matrimony - ”

“Fuck yeah,” he hears Eddie whisper.

“ – then I’m going to need you to answer a few questions.”

“Proceed, milady.” Eddie starts gently caressing Steve’s hand with his fingers. Steve shoots a look at Robin, who makes exaggeratedly sappy faces while glancing between Steve and their intertwined fingers.

(Forget the Chunky Monkey, he’s eating all of the ice cream they have left tonight.)

“Full name?”

“Edward Anthony Munson.”

“Age?”

“Thirty-one.”

“Name of your emergency contact?”

“Oh, that would be Uncle Wayne and Chrissy! Baby, you’re going to love Wayne,” Eddie says, turning to gaze lovingly up at Steve. “And he’s going to love you! Not as much as I love you though, that’s impossible.”

(Steve’s pretty sure that Bambi eyes here is the impossible one.)

“Great, is Wayne and Chrissy’s contact information in your medical file?”

“Uh huh,” Eddie replies dreamily, still gazing at Steve. 

“Okay, speaking of your file,” Suzie taps at her iPad, “any major events in your medical history that we should know about?”

“Hmmm?” 

He can feel it on his face, he can feel his stupid grin on his stupid face, but he chooses to instead focus on helping Eddie pay attention. “She wants to know if there’s major health events in your past that we need to know about, Bambi.”

“Bambi?”

“BAMBI?!” Robin squeaks after Eddie.

Shit shit SHIT -

“I mean - ”

“Bambi,” Eddie hums, blinking rapidly as he slumps back against his pillows. Once he's settled, he tosses his free hand across his forehead and moans happily. “He loves me. He loves me, he loves me, HE LOVES MEEEEEE - ”

Don’t blush DO NOT BLUSH BODY STOP BLUSHING

“Oh my god that was amazing, I have literally never seen you this red, you look like an actual tomato. Oh my god, I have to tell Nance, like, now.”

“Right, yes, okay Bambi,” Suzie interrupts with a snicker, “like Steve said, is there anything we need to know?”

“Well, we’re in love,” Eddie sighs, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Stevie’s hand. “I think I’m still a little high but it’s only weed, I’ve definitely stopped doing cocaine since, like, five months ago. No need to worry about that, angel,” Eddie pats the top of Steve’s hand.

“Yeah, no, I definitely won’t worry about that.” (He’s definitely going to worry about that.)

“Well, thank you for your honesty, Eddie. I’m going to take a closer look at your files once we get them just to get a better picture of your overall health before we run our tests. Now, second set of questions,” Suzie loudly taps and drags a new window on her tablet open. “What is your annual income?”

(Huh. That’s weird. Steve’s doesn't think he's ever heard any of the nurses ask that question before.)

Eddie snorts out a laugh. “God, I make so much money. A fucking stupid amount of money.”

“You have something in way of a retirement plan then?”

“Doc, I could retire for, like, the next five hundred million years.”

Susie hums as she makes a note. “Do you have anything against sharing resources with your romantic partner?”

(Okay, Steve definitely hasn't heard anyone else ask these questions before.)

“Nah!” Eddie scoffs before gently tugging on Steve’s hand to get his attention. “You’ll be the hottest trophy wife, babe. Do you have an apron? I’m going to buy you an apron.”

“And what are your feelings on children?”

“Kids? I love kids. Is he good with kids? I bet he’s good with kids,” Eddie rushes out. “Fuck, you’re going to look so hot pregnant, baby.”

Robin makes a loud barfing noise which Suzie naturally ignores. “What exactly are you looking for in a relationship?”

“Suzie - ”

“Him! My angel,” Eddie slumps to the side so he’s leaning up against Steve’s hip. “I want to wrap him up in a warm towel and keep him forever and make sweet, sweet love to him under the - ”

“OKAY, next question please,” Robin loudly cuts him off.

“So what you’re saying is you’re looking for a committed relationship with Steve,” Suzie ignores Robin's dramatics. “Are you prepared for lifelong monogamy?”

“Absolutely.”

“Suz - ”

“And you’ll work every day to be deserving of Steve?”

“For the rest of my life,” Eddie proclaims and fuck, he actually sounds serious. He actually looks serious too.

Huh.

Suzie quietly observes him for a moment before her face relaxes into a warm smile. “I believe you. Now, dealbreakers. What are your opinions on outdoor weddings? Steve gets scared in churches.”

“What?!” Eddie gasps, snapping back to Steve.

“SUZ – what, no, I’m not afraid of churches - ”

“Uh yeah you are, you said that every time you visit one you get nightmares about being sacrificed on an altar,” Robin chimes in.

“Gee, thanks, Robin.”

“Baby, baby, don’t worry, I’d never let them sacrifice you,” Eddie tries to comfort Steve, but everything that’s happened in the last thirty seconds – hell, the last thirty minutes – is starting to finally sink in and yeah, okay, there’s an obscenely hot and rich and famous rockstar telling Steve that he loves him and sure, he’s partially concussed but the joke isn’t ending, he’s acting like he’s serious and they’ve only exchanged like maybe twenty words total but he’s acting like this is actually happening and what if it actually could – 

“Shoot, we’re going to have to wrap it up here, loverboy,” Robin waylays his runaway thoughts as her beeper goes off. “We’ve got a fainter with a broken nose."

“Okay, okay.” Steve shakes his head and tries to gently extract his hand from Eddie’s grasp but Eddie lurches at the feeling of Steve moving his hands and whines, digging his finger into Steve’s hand.

“Eddie, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

“But – no, angel, please,” he blubbers before turning his eyes on Steve and –

Oh.

Oh no.

They’re even bigger and shinier when he’s crying.

“I’m sorry, Bambi,” he replies totally deliberately, “but I’ve got to go finish my shift. I’ll come back when I’m done, okay?”

Eddie sniffles, rubbing his eyes with his free hand. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” he whimpers sadly, and – look, this joke isn't really joking anymore so if Eddie's gonna go all the way, he might as well go all the way too.

He leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the top of Eddie’s head. “Be good for Suzie, okay?” As he draws back, he glances back down at Eddie. Eddie is blinking dazedly at Steve, all glassy-eyed and rosy.

“Wow,” Eddie whispers, and while the smile that appears on his face is small, it’s the warmest one Steve has seen yet. “Whatever you say, baby.”

“Right, right.” Steve nods and then pivots, making a hasty retreat out of the room.

“Later, Bambi,” Robin sings behind him, and then she’s quick on Steve’s heels. The hall’s crowded, though, so they aren’t fast enough to escape the start of Suzie and Eddie’s conversation. 

(“So, outdoor wedding? Maybe in spring?”

“Can it be in Hobbiton?”

“Uh, it better be in Hobbiton!”)

“I’m kinda surprised to see you staking your claim already, dingus,” Robin says, thrusting the portable gurney mat into Steve’s arms as they walk. “I was worried I’d have to make you.”

“I shouldn't have done that. I mean, he’s a patient, Robin!”

“Not anymore, he’s not!” Robin gently bumps his hip. “He's not your patient anymore so now we need to start planning your next move. I mean, he’s obviously going to say yes when you ask him out, but it still needs to be smooth.”

“What – I’m Steve Harrington, I’m always smooth.”

Robin is purposely silent.

“Okay, first of all, rude,” he says after giving her plenty of time to politely agree. “Second of all, even if I did decide to make a move, there actually isn’t a guarantee he’d say yes. Even if he wasn't just doing this because he's heavily concussed, I’ve hardly talked to the guy!”

“I know, he has no idea how much of a dork you are, it’s great.”

Steve offers Robin a hand as he climbs into the ambulance. (Not without shooting her a look once they're both seated, of course because again, rude.) 

Robin shrugs Steve's frown off. “Look, dingus, I know you think that you have all these great lines or whatever - ”

“Uh, I don’t think, I do have them - ”

“ – but they’re, like, obviously lines. Whatever you say to him has to be more real. He needs to know that if he says yes, he’s going to be going on a date with a guy that has the ooiest, gooiest, squishiest little itty bitty heart!” She squeezes her hands together like she’s holding Steve’s heart in her hands (which definitely isn’t concerning given the fact that she’s technically a medical professional who knows just how vulnerable that particular organ is.)

“Robs - ”

“ITTY BITTY!” She kisses the tips of her fingers. “And that’s why we gotta plan, doinkus. Edward Anthony Munson needs to be constantly conscious of the fact that he’s dating the best guy on the entire planet because you are, Steve, you are the best guy on Earth and you deserve a Prince Charming even though the Prince Charming archetype is totally outdated and part of a patriarchal initiative to establish systematic gender dynamics - ”

Well, shucks. Maybe Robin doesn’t hate him after all.

“ - doesn't exist, its still what you deserve. But more importantly than that, if Eddie does start dating you, then I have a better shot of getting him to introduce me to Chris Hemsworth.”

“Chris Hemsworth?"

“Uh, yeah.”

"Chris Hemsworth - Chris Hemsworth? Out of every famous person Eddie could hypothetically introduce you to, you'd want to meet Chris Hemsworth?"

"Well, yeah," Robin takes a brief sip of her water before shooting Steve a playful smirk. “I mean, as great as you are, I wouldn't be opposed to upgrading my emotional support himbo.”

Never mind, she’s evil incarnate.

(And she’s going to be out of Chunky Monkey in about five hours.)

Tags list: @piratefishmama @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @noxturnallyevermore @little-trash-ghost @justforthedead89 @mmmmwaffles94 @omletlove @lostonceandneverfound @sweetwaterangel @punctualhowell @sapphirecobalt-1 @kedtheduck @lunesispunk @mrs-dr-reid @clockworkballerina @stayonmars @maya-custodios-dionach @kahri1 @renaissan-vvitch @xwildangel @sweetarts116 @musical-theatre-gay @ladylokilaufeyson5 @ellietheasexylibrarian @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @designatedgrape @steddiesoulmates @starlightshadowsworld @inmoonywetrust @hellfire--cult @singmeyoursimpsong @sleepdeprivedflower @loserhotline @m-owo-n @magpiemuseum

[wannaeatramyeon]

Daniel Park with Unhinged F! Reader

You, the peak of the verse with a list of supposedly strong and powerful men to kill meet.

Gun Park | Goo Kim | Samuel Seo | Samuel Seo Part 2 | James Lee/DG | Jinyoung Park | Eli Jang | Tom Lee | Ryuhei Kuroda | Eugene | Vin Jin | Charles Choi

I had a request sometime last year on Unhinged F!Reader helping out Allied. Soooo- this is my response to it...

'Why are you following me?"

You turn around in the alleyway to see a guy approximately the same height as you. Unremarkable if not for the way he has managed to pick you out from the shadows and keep up with your steps.

"Please, I need your help."

Help? Does this person have any idea who you are?

You arch an eyebrow at his request as he continues to stare at you with wide eyes.

Honestly. Did he think this puppy dog look was going to work on you? Of all people? You don't say anything, letting the silence add pressure until he spills out his guts.

Something about the Four Crews and HNH, which vaguely rings a bell.

You start to examine your nails as he rambles, quickly losing interest. Damn, is that dried blood underneath? You really must clean them better post fight.

And tch! Another chipped nail too. Ugh.

Oh. He's still talking, huh.

You've already tuned him out but the sound of his voice grows irritating and you cut him off, just as he starts to mention the Ten Geniuses or whatever.

You thrust a palm out at him, inches from his face and clever boy, he shuts up immediately. "Why should I help you?"

"Um." He hesitates. "I can pay you?"

"Not interested."

"I.. I can copy moves? You can teach me to be your masterpiece-"

"Cool," you say, stifling a yawn. Wasn't that crazy old doctor also a copy user? You dispatched him without difficulty.

"Let me guess-" You start ticking off each point on your fingers.

"One. You don’t move like you’re a natural, so you do have a master but they're not cutting it anymore- " He nods.

"Two. You've somehow found out about me and managed to seek me out-"  You don't tell him you're reluctantly impressed at that part.

"Three. Then hoped that I would help you because I have such a good moral compass-" You roll your eyes at this. What is it with pathetic men expecting women to clean up their mess?

"Four. So you've come here to ask me to help and promise me riches as a sweetener but sorry to break your heart, I don't give a shit-" He recoils, taken aback by your bluntness.

"Anyway, which mediocre fool has been teaching you?"

"One of the Ten Geniuses I mentioned. The Learning Genius."

What a lame title. "Who?"

"Gun Park."

You have a vague recollection of this person and gesture for him to tell you more as you pull out your small slip of paper. The one with the list of crossed out names, that you hunted down and defeated one by one until only a few remain. 

Oh wait... the name Gun Park is here-

"Um. Black eyes, half naked all the time, tattoos on his arms, smokes-"

"Right!" You click your fingers. "That loser! The Learning Genius, did you say?"

He widens his eyes at you insulting his master but nods anyway.

"Pfffft-" you stifle a laugh unsuccessfully. Goddamn that is funny.

"Learning Genius!" You squeal, letting out a cackle that leaves his hairs standing on end. The more you think about it, the funnier it gets. On what planet is that guy qualified, good enough, to teach anyone? You laugh and laugh, clutching your stomach as he backs away awkwardly.

Wiping away tears from your eyes, you make up your mind and ask, "What did you say your name was?"

"I... I didn't. It's Daniel Park,"

You dig out the pen in your pocket and add his name to your list.

He's undercooked. Maybe fun in a few more years but now Daniel is nothing but a baby. It'll be fun to crush him eventually.

"Listen," You fold your note carefully, slipping it back into your pocket. "I have zero inclination to help you. None."

He opens his mouth to argue-

And you cut him off again with a shrug. "Mainly 'cause I don't want to. Anyway, I'll find you once you're ready to fight. It'll be a shame to kill you any sooner, but-"

You lunge at him, slamming Daniel into the wall with a hand on his neck before he has had a chance to react.

"- Follow me again and I won't hesitate." You smile sweetly, like butter wouldn't melt. Smile stretching further, turning monstrous and unhinged when you feel him attempt to free himself from your grasp but to no avail.

You give his throat one more squeeze for good measure as he chokes and claws at your hand before releasing him. “See ya!”

Daniel drops to the floor, gasping desperately for air and rubbing at his neck. Thinks that this has been a grave mistake and now he has a target on his back.

He watches you, humming to yourself and sashaying away into the night, melting into the shadows once more.

[gretavanbrie]

Landslide (J.T.K.)

Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember, does he feel the same?

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader

Warnings: no smut for this part just pure ANGST ;), established friendship, swearing, unrequited love, light portrayal of anger, jake & y/n are a little dramatic but aren’t we all?? mentions of childhood, alcohol consumption… if I missed anything lmk, I’ll fix it no issue!!

A/N: I’m actually really excited for this one!! This is based on the winning answer of this poll I did, if you guys are looking for a bit more context on what this is about. I may have hurt my own feelings a couple times amidst writing this, I had my Jake lane friend read it and she was not too happy with me so hopefully this will strike a nerve for you guys as well!! If not that’s cool too! My writing is pretty sporadic so I’m gonna try and put out as much content as I can if you guys end up liking this story. I’m a waitress so my hours are long and unpredictable I do apologize in advance lol. I’m debating on if I should leave this as is, or make two long parts, or even start a mini series…not too sure yet but lmk what you think!!! Also this is vaguely proof read. If there are any mistakes, bare with me.

Part 2 | Part 3

Here you were, standing in front of the mirror, clammy hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of the dress you adorned. You made it a point to pull out all of the stops today, you’d washed and beautifully dried your hair. You gave one last look at your makeup before running your hands through your hair and heading to grab your bag. You let out a shaky breath picking up your phone.

The boys were back from tour and some mutual friends were having a little gathering as a welcome back. Any other time you wouldn’t have been so uneasy but the conversation you had with Josh had been replaying in your head the entire time they’ve been gone.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” You immediately recognize that voice.

Everyone was outside as the small farewell party for the commence of the tour had somehow migrated towards the backyard of Josh’s lovely home. You clear your throat in an attempt to rid the uneasiness in your voice.

“Excuse me?” You turn setting down the bottle of wine you were going to pour for yourself. He stood at the entryway of the kitchen as you feigned a confused expression to which he saw right through.

“Y/n..we may not hang out as much as you and my brother do but I still know you just as well. If not more, it seems” you just stared at him for a moment trying to find a good way out of this before quickly turning around and finished pouring yourself a glass. With your back still turned you speak up knowing there’s no use in hiding it anymore, if there was one person you could trust with this information it would be him.

“It’s just not a conversation to be had, he’s my best friend nothing more. It’s just a silly crush it’ll go away” you waved your hand to seemingly brush it off as you turned to face him. Not the whole truth, but not necessarily a lie? God you didn’t even believe yourself, how could you expect him to. You brought the glass to your lips letting the smooth red ease your nerves.

“A silly crush that’s lasted since senior year?” The minute those words left his mouth your eyes widened in shock. Quickly swallowing to refrain from spitting your drink all over his nice white shirt.

“What do you mean by that?” you stare inquisitively not knowing he was privy to just how deep this ‘silly crush’ had run.

“Oh c’mon don’t play coy. Like I said, I know you. We were friends first..lest you forget.” You giggled recalling the vague memory of 2nd grade recess, he stepped further into the room before continuing on.

“You keep too much to yourself, you’ve gotta stop sacrificing your own needs for the sake of what you think the other person wants. Disregard me as his brother for the time being, right now I’m coming to you as a friend. I’m not here to pressure you into telling him anything, that is your own decision to make. I just want you to ask yourself if this is what you really want. I mean come on your twenty-seven now y/n. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve refused to see anyone since summer going into senior year?’

“That’s not true” you cut him off, defending yourself.

“I wasn’t completely celibate I was seeing that one guy Liam for some time… a-and Henry my sophomore year of college. I’m just not looking for anything.” Truth was, you were at one point. You convinced yourself getting under someone was the only way to get over another. Until you realized neither of them were Jake and that’s why you could never see them as a part of the long haul.

“And did you ever make it official with them? Or better yet, did they last any longer than 8 months?’ He challenged. You looked down at your feet defeated knowing there’s no use in denying any more. You know he knows. There was a beat of silence before you spoke up once more.

“I’d rather him be my friend than nothing at all, Josh.” you said quietly looking up at him as he embraced you in a hug running his hands through your hair.

You hear him sigh before he quietly speaks into your hair.

“I know.”

———————————————————————————

You shut your eyes and shook your head as if to rid the memory. You had wracked your brain enough about it. Josh was right and you knew it, it’s been nearly 10 years but you hadn’t always had feelings for Jake. For a while actually you would nearly gag at the mere thought. Albeit there wasn’t much room for romance during the pre-pubescent “cootie” stage of your life.

Your parents and the Kiszka’s became rather close throughout the years. You and the Kiszka clan wreaked borderline havoc growing up. With all the trouble you got into it was only a matter of time your parents would cross paths. Once they realized the five of you were inseparable they decided there was no use in staying strangers. Danny and his family soon came into the picture and you considered yourselves a bond to never be broken from that point on.

Although Jake had deemed you guy’s best friends summer going into 5th grade year, you were closest to Ronnie in high school. You were girls together. During the time of first periods and finding out boys can be attractive you migrated towards each other and found solace together within the testosterone-tainted group you had formed. You’d always struggled making friends, you didn’t normally speak unless spoken to. You weren’t necessarily shy, you just always felt like you didn’t really fit in with all the rest.

Once you crossed paths with Josh 2nd grade, he left you no choice but to be his friend. He was overly inviting and basically dragged you to join him on whatever crazy idea him and his twin had gotten into next. You chose to not complain given he was actually nice to you and took time in making sure to include you.

You had remained school friends for the years following, hangouts limited to recess and lunchtime until around the summer before 5th grade when you moved a few houses down from their own. You saw them playing outside from your bedroom window one day and begged your mom to run down there and greet your friends.

You and your ponytail came flying out of the house screaming “Josh! Jake! It’s me!!! From Ms. Crowley’s Class!!! I live by you now!!!”

“Y/n!! Is it really you!! We can play at home now!!” Josh exclaimed, his twins' smile growing ten fold.

“You have to meet my brother and sister, we can all play together now!” Jake said, calling out for Ronnie and Sam. You were quickly introduced to the two and although they were a couple years younger, you were kids, and found joy in whatever silly games you had come up with together nonetheless.

As you sat up against the tree cooling off from the intense game of freeze tag you all had just played, you saw Jake walk up and sit beside you.

“I can’t believe you moved close to my house, loser. Today was fun.” the boy said, ruffling your hair.

‘Hey! Quit! I’m not a loser.” you laughed pushing his arm away.

“Yea-huhh, that’s why you couldn’t catch me during tag.” he mocked, you squint your eyes at him playfully before pushing him away from you.

“That’s why you have cooties!” You retaliated feeling defensive now.

“See! Sore loooserrr” Jake sing-songed.

‘You’re being a meanie now Jakey, it’s just a game” you pouted looking to your feet. You probably were just being sensitive but you hadn’t known better. His expression softened realizing his words might’ve stricken a nerve.

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding, you’re my new best friend. Especially now that we live so close” he said, lips tugging into a shy smile as he softly elbowed at your side. You whipped your head up to look at him

“You think I’m your best friend? You promise?” You said as hopeful eyes met his own. No one had ever made it a point to deem you as such. A friend is one thing, but a best friend was something far more special in your mind.

“Pinky promise.” he assured, hooking your smallest of fingers with his own.

————————————————————————————

The sentiment was sweet and you were thankful you had friends like them growing up, it made life a little easier knowing you had a constant. Easier until teenage hormones came into the picture and Jake was no longer your boy-ish ‘best friend’ and had started growing handsomely into his features. His face became more chiseled, his chest a bit more filled out, voice dropping a couple octaves lower and not to mention he grew taller. It all happened too fast for your awkward teenage self to process. One day he was regular old Jake and the next he was…hot.

So, you did what you thought was best. Denied any and all attraction and gaslighted yourself into thinking it would go away. It was Jacob for fucks sake, your life-long friend who you considered a brother to you. You and Ronnie had gotten suspiciously closer that year, you brushed it off as ‘needed girl time’ but as years passed you realized you were just trying to distract yourself from Jake in hopes that if you saw him less, the attraction would eventually metastasize.

Boy were you wrong because Jake was adamant on including you in every hangout as he began to gain popularity. You had convinced yourself things would drift off throughout high school, thinking the boys would deem themselves ‘too cool’ to hang with you now and the silly pinky promise he made would be brushed off as immature to him. But it wasn’t, he instead kept his promise. His friends soon becoming your own, girlfriends never lasting long because ‘you and Ronnie are more important to me than any other girl’ he says. Finding yourself at their house more often than you had expected for this new chapter of your life and before you knew it, you had grown closer than ever, and your growing crush more suppressed than ever.

You were shaken out of your thoughts as your phone began buzzing. An incoming call from none other than Veronica herself. You quickly picked it up, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Girl where are you?! You promised you’d be here by the time I got here” you heard her whine on the other end. “Everyone is already mingling, the boys are late yet again and I have no one!” You laughed into the line knowing she was just exaggerating.

“Oh come on Ron, it can’t be that bad you know Mike a-and Dave’s girlfriend.” You tried reasoning, knowing you’d be just as anxious if your friends hadn’t showed up just yet.

“I’m sure they’re already there, talk to them for a little bit okay? I’m sorry, I’m leaving now I just got caught up finding what to wear” you continued, not necessarily a lie although you didn’t want her to know the real reason you were stalling was because today could possibly change the entire trajectory of your life. Dramatic to say the least, but true.

“It’s okay y/n, I was giving you shit. I’ll be fine… wait a minute. Did you say you were looking for something to wear?? You’ve never cared about that stuff, who are you trying to look good forrrrrr?” she teased.

“‘Oh hush Ronnie, it's just been a while since I’ve gone out and felt hot. Just needed a boost of confidence today is all, no secret fella or anything” you giggled.

“Yet…” she laughed.

“Yea yea whatever, let me go so I can head over” you said grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes.

“Okay okay, byeeee love you!” She said before quickly hanging up.

“Love you too” you said to no one in particular, smiling to yourself at your dear friend's abruptness.

There was no reason for you to be so nervous, it’s just the boys and Ronnie. It was Jake that had you so uneasy. You had replayed yours and Josh’s conversation enough times to knock some sense into yourself. You weren’t going to lay it on him full force but tonight was your chance to let your guard down and not shy away from him. Maybe even flirt, as best you could anyway, if things were smooth sailing. He’s been single for some time this was your chance to maybe plant a couple seeds. You wanted to see if there was even the slight off-chance he may just like you back and you’d be able to look back at how foolish keeping it from him was.

It was easier said than done as you started second guessing your entire look. You felt as though everyone would think you were trying too hard but that wasn’t the case, you’d gone out in more extravagant looks than the white linen sundress you settled on. It was flowy and stunning, casual but beautiful enough to make you feel at your best. Your hair cascaded beautifully down your back from your blowout, you put on your expensive perfume. You felt great, the only significant difference was that you wore a little extra makeup and you took the time to do your nails. You knew it was purely the anxiety talking. Plus, no one even knows how you feel about him other than Josh.

In attempts to calm yourself, your hand reaches for your phone as you stop at a light. Opening your Spotify you hit shuffle on your playlist. You sighed and smiled as the familiar guitar from Cannock Chase by Labi Siffre started playing. You and Jake loved this song, singing it on too many drunken nights to count. It truly was a beautiful song. You decided to just enjoy yourself and let the evening take its course rather than stressing out about it.

————————————————————————————

You pull into the long driveway of your friend Spencer’s house seeing all the cars parked out front. You find a good spot and walk up to the door seeing a few others talking by the front steps, you recognize his fiancé and smile politely walking towards her.

“My god, y/n is that you? You look absolutely stunning.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around you before pulling away and linking arms, guiding you towards the entrance of her and Spencer’s shared home.

“Mmm and you always smell amazing, have you been inside yet? We missed you like crazy, Ronnie’s been inside waiting. I think the boys are here already though-“

“Thank you Claire, I appreciate it. I’ll be sure to find them” you cut her off smiling gently as you gave her hand one last squeeze before stepping inside. Claire is a lovely woman but has a bad habit of rambling, you find it endearing but others seem to tire of her rather quickly.

Upon crossing the threshold into their home you’re immediately greeted by the short brunette.

“Finally! The boys are here, come on, we've been wondering where you were.” You nervously laughed as Ronnie grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the backyard.

You weave through the small bunch of people gathered in the living room and kitchen before you walk through to the sliding door, stepping onto the patio. Josh spots you and immediately heads over to give you the warmest of hugs.

“I knew it was you, I’d recognize that perfume anywhere. Glad you could make it little one” you smiled in his embrace at his terms of endearment, your cheeks warmed at the sentiment.

“Thank you Joshy, I’m so happy to finally see you. It’s been far too long.” you smiled up at him before you were quickly swept away.

You startled as you felt strong arms wrap around your waist from behind lifting you up and twirling you. You laughed recognizing the familiar cologne, you see his chestnut brown locks as he sets you down.

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Jake jokes, stepping back to get a good look at you.

“What an extravagant greeting, I see you’ve been gone long enough to forget about a girl like me” you joked back, hand coming up to rest on our chest as you feigned a look of hurt. Your favorite bit with him now taking it’s course.

“Ahhh, nonsense. A girl like you? Unforgettable'' he assured in his familiar cockney accent flashing you that infamous smirk you’ve grown to love. You looked down bashfully as you blushed yet again. You’ve almost grown sick of how quickly he can turn you into mush, you know he means nothing by it. You can’t help but wish maybe he did.

“Oh come on, you’re just saying that.” You laughed as you walked over to pour yourself some wine. Opting for a white this time given your attire. God forbid your nerves get the better of you and you spill it all over yourself.

You can’t help but notice you and Jake had accidentally coordinated outfits. He bore a cream colored blazer, akin to his cream colored pants. The muted brown button up he had on underneath was unsurprisingly left open with a couple of his pendants decorating his chest. He looked handsome, to say the least.

“Hmm you don’t sound so excited to see your lifelong friend, I’ve been gone for months and this is the treatment I receive?” He exaggerates, giggles escaping between words not able to take himself seriously.

“I thought we were besties y/n” he laughs, feigning a hurt expression knowing that would make you crack.

You can’t help but let a giggle escape your lips, the joke now running dry.

“Alright, alright. I guessss I missed you '' you say, wrapping both your arms around his waist. He gives the quickest peck to the top of your head.

“It’s good to see you sunshine, been too long” he gives you one last squeeze, you smiled at the old nickname he called you as you pulled away.

“Did you forget about us?!” You hear Danny exclaim. You whipped your head towards the back door sliding closed as the self-proclaimed “better half” of the band stepped outside.

“How could I? With the million random voice notes I’m sent a day…not a chance” You tease walking up to hug Sam.

“Glad I could aid, you look fantastic y/n. Definitely better than when we left” Sam teased tapping his chin as if in deep thought.

“Hey! Not cool man.” you jokingly retort as Danny comes up to give you a side hug.

“Yeah your hair’s longer or something or..you put on blush? Fuck, I tried. I don’t know what girls do but you look great” Danny says pulling back to examine you, you blushed at all the sweet gestures.

“She’s always been a looker!” Josh blurts in his exaggerated Midwest accent, raising his brows giving you a cheeky smile. You giggle at his candor.

“Yeah? You’re like…glowing, I’m glad to see you so happy. Also I didn’t tell you when I saw you but I don’t know why you were nervous on what to wear, this dress looks beautiful on you” Ronnie says smoothing out the flyaways on the top of your head. You and Josh make eye contact, he flashes you a look knowing exactly why you were nervous before averting his eyes and taking a sip of his mixed drink.

“Thank you guys I really really appreciate it, but this is a celebration for you! We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, let's make the most of it yeah?” You say raising your glass.

Jake would never say it out loud because he loved teasing you, but you did look rather beautiful today. Sam was right, you looked different. Good different. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe it was having some stress-free months without them. Jake knew they could be quite the handful and maybe this time away from each other caused this new glow, so he thought.

Whatever it was, he admired the way your hair blew softly in the wind. How the midday sun had created the perfect glow on your skin. He especially loved how the sweetness of your perfume matched your sweet personality. He was extremely proud to have you in his life.

“Cheers to that!” Sam exclaims raising his seltzer can.

“Alright! First order of business now that we’re all here "Josh butts in, waving a finger in the air. We wait patiently for his supposed plans, all you hear is the faint music for a second before he speaks up again.

“Yeah.. I’ve got nothing. Although it is a rather beautiful day..” he continues looking around at the beautiful midday sunlight. The six of us break into laughter at his wit.

“Doesn’t Spencer have a pool table? I say we play a couple rounds and catch up?" Sam offers looking around for approval.

‘I’m in, everybody down?” Jake speaks up, moving to stand beside you. Hums of approval circulate as we all migrate inside towards the billiards table. Before you fully enter Spencer’s spare room you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning, you're met with Jake's familiar caramel eyes.

“Hey.. whenever you’ve got time, you mind if I get a word alone with you?” He asks. You should feel worried given the question but he seemed…excited? You couldn’t precisely read the emotion clouding his irises.

‘Um, sure. I-is everything okay” you couldn’t help the anxiety that burned in your chest.

“More than. Just gotta share something special with you.” He says flashing you a warm smile, quickly easing your nerves.

“Okay then, I’d love that.” You smile before you two make your way inside the room seeing a couple of others have also decided they wanted a go at pool. You spot Ronnie sitting next to Danny on the loveseat and plop down beside her. Taking a long sip from your wine.

“Thirsty?” She laughs, boy she has no idea.

“Yea just needed some refreshment in my life, you know?” you wink at her before setting your glass on the table beside you. She giggles before continuing her conversation with Danny. You watch as the boys argue over who gets solids and who gets stripes.

“You ever gonna learn how to play pool y/n?” Jake teases knowing you’ve never been the best at it. You decide to entertain it.

“Only if I come across a good enough teacher.” You quip smiling up at him.

“Come on then, I think I know a guy” he smirks, reaching his hand out to help you up. You gently take his into your own, pulling yourself onto your feet. Josh takes your spot on the couch as Jake walks you both towards the table and hands you the stick.

You smile at Sam on the other side of the table. You immediately try and get into position going solely based on what you’ve seen. You hear a chuckle behind you as Jake presses himself against your back and adjusts your aim so it’s pointing towards the white ball. Your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity. He clears his throat before abruptly stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. Weird.

“Your position was correct, but you were pointing at the black one..you definitely don’t wanna shoot at that just yet” he laughs. “The white one does your dirty work, use it to bounce a striped ball into the closest hole. You and Sam will take turns shooting at your respective balls unless-“ you can’t help but snort, you quickly cover your mouth realizing you’ve interrupted him.

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter” you just shrug as he smiles. He continues on demonstrating and explaining the rules until you feel confident enough to play a match by yourself. You were grateful Jake has always been so patient with you.

‘You got this y/n!” You hear Ronnie cheer, flashing you her bright smile. You blow her a kiss as Sam initiates the game. Your turn comes and you throw your hair over your shoulders and lean into position. Jake quickly averts his eyes to be respectful although Josh wasn’t shy with it at all.

“Damn mama, lookin good.” he playfully winks, raising his glass to you.

“Oh hush” you laugh before making your first shot that unfortunately didn’t go in but after a couple tries you got the hang of it and you and Sam were down to a close match. You hear Danny and Josh narrating the match like some football game as it comes down to the last few balls on the table until eventually only the 8-ball remains.

This was it. You were one hit away from winning, if you missed this Sam would win and you wouldn’t let that boastful man win any time soon. You may have calmed down over the years but you were still just as competitive as your younger self. You adjust the stick between your fingers, closing one eye to aim just right.

Point. Shoot.

The familiar thud of the ball falling in sounds. You swiftly turn to the long-haired man standing behind you.

“I did it Jake, I did it!!” You exclaim getting lost in the short high of your win. Letting your excitement get the best of you, you tackle him in a hug wrapping your arm around his neck.

“Can’t believe it took you so long to give in and actually play” he says, arms still wrapped around you, pulling back and staring at you. The realization settling in that you may be way too close for comfort. You swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, you brushed it off as wishful thinking. You allow your eyes to run across his face a couple times. Seeing how the tour has treated him. His stubble subtly grew atop his lip, focusing on how soft they looked. His hands tighten around your waist as his breathing picks up. You realize you’ve lingered for too long as silence washes over the room.

You loosen your grip on him and step away from his embrace. You look around seeing everyone had dispersed talking with others. Suddenly feeling very awkward, you clear your throat adjusting the fabric of your dress before combing your fingers in your hair in an attempt to recollect yourself seeing as you now feel incredibly flushed. You clear your throat before speaking up.

“I think I’m gonna step out for a sec” you smile meekly, grabbing your glass.

“N-no yeah, by all means” he gestures towards the door adjusting the lapel of his coat that you had so desperately clung onto moments before.

————————————————————————————

You rush out smiling politely at everyone you pass on your way to the back deck. The sun has started to set, the beautiful golden hour shining brighter than ever across the yard. You step outside feeling the breeze brush past your skin, quietly thankful there was no one out here. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit on the porch swing.

You stare off trying to process whatever the fuck that was. God, he just made your heart flutter without any thought. The way he leaned up against you. The way his eyes seemingly locked onto your lips for a split second. It was all too much, were you being delusional? Either way you needed a breather before you made any mistakes. He was your friend, he would never deem you as anything more. He’s seen all your ugly awkward phases, there’s no way he’d see you in any sort of romantic light especially with the amount of beautiful women he meets, he could have anyone.

“Can we talk?” You heard his voice as the sliding door shut. You turn and meet Jake’s eyes as he steps closer in your direction.

“Of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to just run off. I think the riesling might’ve gotten to me a bit” you force a laugh.

“Come sit” you continue as you pat the spot next to you on the swing. He adjusts his coat before taking a seat and running his hands through his hair.

“Ahh don’t worry about it, I just figured I wanna tell you sooner than later. This is special to me and I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while” his tight-lipped smile showing as he toys with his bracelets before looking up and turning to face you.

He grabs both your hands in his and your heart beat quickly accelerates.

“You’re important to me, y/n. And I think it’s time I share this with you, I can’t hide it any longer. I've been avoiding it because I couldn’t find the right words to say…” he says as his eyes lock in on your own, his thumb gently rubbing over your fingers.

What the fuck is happening? You think to yourself.

“What is it, Jake? You can tell me anything you know..” you say hopeful eyes gazing up at him.

If this was going in the direction you’d hoped, all your dreams would come true. You quickly brushed it off not wanting to get your hopes up.

“I know, sunshine.” He chuckles softly.

“Um, I wanna start by saying I value how close we are which is why I need to make this known..”

Oh my god, is he…

“I’ve been deciding on wether or not I want to pursue this and I don’t think the answer could’ve been clearer, its been in front of me this whole time for fucks sake” he gives a breathy laugh as he scoots closer, eyes boring into your own. His eyebrows furrow for a moment like he’s unsure if he should continue but it's quickly replaced by a smile.

This is it.. is this his way of telling you he feels it too?

“Fuck it I’m just gonna say it..”

Please say what I think you're gonna say..

“Yeah?” You prod, the hope in your tone making you internally cringe.

“..I started seeing someone from our crew…i really like her y/n” he smiled looking at his shoes.

Oh.

The minute those words left his mouth your world seemingly went mute. Your ears rung like you had just been dunked under water. Your smile faded as your face became agonizingly hot and your throat tightened. How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better. Of course he wasn’t about to confess his undying love for you as you would to him, you let your hopeless romanticism take over and now you’ve hurt your own feelings. Your dress suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You hair was touching all the wrong places. There probably was no need for the internalized dramatics but you wanted to crawl out of your own skin right now.

“Earth to y/n? Aren’t you gonna say anything” he laughs, scanning your face for any sort of emotion. You’d learned how to keep a good poker face dealing with his plethora of girlfriends. You faked a bright smile as tears threatened to spill over.

“Y-yeah!” You clear your throat realizing your voice has broken.

“Is everything okay?” He asks cutting you off before you could continue on. You still kept the insufferably wide fake smile on your face.

“Everything’s great! I'm just so happy for you Jakey, she must be a very special girl and I'm glad you’ve found someone who can put a smile like that on your face” you said, taking your hands from his grasp and rubbing his arm. You made sure to bring out your old nickname for him to convince him you were being sincere.

Jake was listening intently but knew you were lying. He’s known you for years, if he had know any better he’d say you looked heartbroken but decided not to press on it.

‘There’s no way she’s upset, she sees me as just a friend.’ Jake thinks to himself.

“Y-yea i just wanted to tell you today ‘cause she’ll be here any minute now and i’d love for you and Ronnie to finally meet her” he says, now seemingly unsure of himself.

“Wow! Y-yeah.. I mean I’d love to!” You say nervously running your fingers through your hair. God, how were you gonna get through meeting her so soon after the love of your life, who didn’t know he was the love of your life, had just single-handedly shattered your heart.

“Great, i'm so happy you’re my best friend sunshine” he says standing up opening his arms signaling he wants a hug. You rise and give him a quick embrace.

“Yea… me too.” You say as you try and fight off the tears once his arms wrap around you.

You excuse yourself to grab another drink. You rush inside but of course you just had run into Josh on your way to find the strongest bottle of alcohol this house could provide.

“Woah slow down little lady— hey… you okay?” he says, noticing your glossy eyes.

“Peachy. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just one second” you say trying to squeeze past.

“Ah-ah-ah, not until you tell me what’s got you in such a hurry.” He says grabbing your wrist.

“I just need a second alone, please josh..” your voice trails off into whisper, you were trying your best to stay composed but the more he kept poking and prodding at this fresh wound the more afraid you were of completely imploding.

“Oh, okay..” he complies, releasing his grip as he watches you snatch the entire bottle of wine and make your way to the guest bathroom. You were gonna need some liquid courage to withstand meeting whoever this chick is. You didn’t mean to be so sour but you felt foolish.

————————————————————————————

You sat down on the closed toilet seat after locking the bathroom door and thanked whomever that this wine bottle was a twist cap. You took a few sips before processing everything.

10 years.

10 years of convincing yourself that this would go away, but it somehow only grew stronger.

10 years of being irrevocably in love with one of your closest friends.

You were stupid enough to think he would feel the same way when he’s legitimately touring the world and has any girl he chooses at his feet.

Why couldn’t it be me?

I should’ve spoken up sooner. It’s all too late. Would he have even liked me back?

You let your head drop as tears clouded your vision, you succumbed to just letting them fall freely now that you were in private.

You wept for your inner teenage self knowing all she wanted got squashed right before your eye. Life can turn on a dime, you shouldn’t have wasted so much time hoping one day he just might make a move. I mean josh was right, you pathetically remained single because you only had eyes for his brother… for the most part. You’ve mingled but none of them could ever truly get your mind off of him. And for what? He’s just a guy. Albeit, a guy who is incredibly kind to you, knows all your in’s and out’s. How you like your coffee, all your favorite songs. He knew that you had to sleep with one extra blanket in bed because the only way you can fall asleep is if you're wrapped up in it. He knew that you would only ever accept flowers if at least one of the petals has wilted because lest we forget, we too are all but a little damaged. He’d grown to know all your weird habits as if it was second nature to him. He was what every girl desired.

You'd devoted yourself to him, built your life around him almost. Your earliest memories are plagued with him and his family and now everything has come crashing down faster than you can handle. You had a feeling deep down that you needed to get over him years ago so who are you to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You knew better than to think he could ever love you back. You knew blind faith would come back to bite you in the ass.

It was stupid to wait so long with all these bottled up feelings towards him, you feel like you’ve wasted so much of your time helplessly hoping in silence and now who were you meant to seek advice from. You can’t tell your best friend he’s just broken your heart because you’ve been madly in love with him since you were seventeen. You can’t tell Ronnie because, although you’re incredibly grateful for it, she would come to your immediate defense and the last thing you wanted was a big fallout at their welcome home party. You’ve never been in more internal conflict than now.

You allowed yourself to shed a couple more tears before touching up your makeup and chugging down some more of the cheap Riesling. They would come looking for you any second now.

You collected yourself taking one last glance in the mirror before exuding a shaky breath as your hand reached to turn the knob. Stepping outside your met with Josh leaned up against the wall. Was he waiting for you to get out?

“There you are..” he whispered, swiftly grasping your arm and dragging you right back into the bathroom.

“J-josh what the fuck? What are you doi-“ you were cut off by him shushing you and locking the door.

“Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would actually make it official with her. I thought she was some fling of his. If I had known I would’ve warned you.”

“So you know about our conversation?” You softly ask, trying to tame the lump growing in your throat.

“Yea, she’s here and Jake said you ran off after he told you he wanted to introduce you to her”

“Oh my god, I probably embarrassed myself. I wasn’t thinking Josh, I was just afraid I’d lose it in front of him” You say bringing your hands up to rub your temples. Josh reaches to grab your wrists, holding your arms in front of you.

“Hey, hey.. stop stressing yourself out. Everything happens for a reason, okay? You didn’t embarrass yourself, no one suspects a thing. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, it's pretty big news for you” he says, thumb rubbing gently on your forearms. The waterworks were conjuring up again, a small tear slipped as you met his eyes.

“I waited too long Josh…” you whispered.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have done this to myself. I-I mean, am I crazy for wishing someone could love me the way I love them?” You questioned rhetorically, your teary eyes staring into Josh’s pity-filled ones. You hated how he was staring at you. You didn’t need pity, you knew the mess you got yourself into.

"Not crazy at all, sunshine.” Hearing Jake's nickname for you coming out of Josh’s mouth felt wrong. Especially right now.

“Come on. let's take a deep breath and greet the guest, shall we?” He offers. You inhale a sharp breath before nodding your head in compliance, it was gonna happen one way or another, might as well man up for now and wallow in the privacy of your own home.

————————————————————————————

You both make your way into the living room seeing everyone gathered around the couch. A few people seemed to have gone home, there were a lot less people than when you showed up. Sam, Dan, and Ronnie sat on one couch.

Your eyes peered over to Jake in the kitchen talking to a beautiful blonde. She was wearing black silk blouse and some mom jeans. It was casual but elegant, you envied how effortlessly pretty she was.

“Hey.. stop getting in your head.” Josh whispered in your ear. Claire and Spencer waved for you to come join everyone. You took your seat as Ronnie got up from her spot next to Sam and came over to sit next to you.

“Where were you? You like..disappeared” she giggled. You smiled at her as best you could.

“The wine wasn’t sitting well, I needed a breather” you laugh hoping she believed you.

The only reason you never told any of your friends about your feelings for Jake was because at first you were convinced it would go away, so why embarrass yourself by telling someone something only for it to not be true in a few weeks and potentially jeopardize an entire friendship. Then as the years went on of you gaslighting yourself into thinking it would go away, all of a sudden 10 years had gone by.

“Ugh I feel you, Sam made me the nastiest marg earlier. I thought I was gonna yak” she says clutching her stomach. You laugh along with her, thankful she didn’t pry any further.

You were broken from your conversation as Jake walked in the room, his hand locked in hers as he guided her in.

“Alright everyone, this is Laura. My beautiful girlfriend.” He says leaning in to kiss her cheek. Jake seemed like he’s had one too many, his words slightly slurring but you don’t question any further. She politely smiled and greeted everyone. Jake notices you, his eyes twinkle before shining you a bright smile and gesturing for her to come meet you.

“Y/n, Laura. Laura, y/n.. this lovely lady has been one my best friends since elementary school” he introduces, slurring his words a bit gesturing towards you with an open palm. You smile wide and rise to give her a quick hug, Josh watching you intently. Your hospitality is admirable.

“Oh my gosh! You’re y/n! I've heard so much about you, I love your dress” she compliments.

Fuck. She’s actually really nice, it sounds terrible to say but you were secretly hoping she was bitch so you wouldn’t feel as bad for being so upset. Your moral compass however, refuses to allow you to feel negatively towards anyone undeserving.

“Thank you, you're so kind. It’s a pleasure to meet you” you smile bright as your cheeks flush from the sincerity of the compliment. She excuses herself to the bathroom, as Jake gestures for the two of you to take a seat yet again. The constant sitting and standing was starting to wear you out.

“Soooo what’d you think?” He says

“Short interaction, but she seems like a great girl Jakey. As long as you're happy I’m happy.” You give a tight-lipped smile, toying with a loose string on your dress.

“That’s it? That’s all you're gonna say?” he asks, stumbling over his words. There’s a certain tone he brought on that you didn’t like.

“W-well I don’t know what you want me to say… a-are you drunk right now?” You say, now adopting a confused expression.

“You could at least act a little more enthused for me. I mean do you even care at all? I was excited for the two of you to meet” he says, scooting back in his spot. He seemed offended, where was all this coming from?

“I-I’m sorry? I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with me. What do you want me to do Jake?” You say lowering your tone so the others around you do catch wind of whatever disagreement this seemed to be.

“You know what…just forget it, you could at least act like you care.” He spat, harshly grabbing his drink and abruptly leaving from his spot beside you. You sat there in shock.

What the fuck.

Your face suddenly felt hot, your throat tightened aggressively. You needed to get out of this house. You did care, too much. That’s why you felt your entire body go numb as tears clouded your vision. Why was he being so mean? Today has been the worst day ever. You swiftly get up from the couch and collect your things. You think you’ll make it with a successful Irish goodbye but of course with your luck, Josh catches you just before you slip out the front door.

‘Hey, where are you going” he asks.

“I can’t josh, I need to leave. I’m so sorry I just- I don’t know what came over him or how much he drank in the amount of time between our conversation and now but suddenly I’m the bad guy?? I don’t even know what I did wrong, apparently I don’t care enough? When you and I both know that’s far from the truth. I just wanna go home josh…please. I think I really fucked it this time and I need to process everything a little bit, okay? I really don’t mean to ruin your welcome home party, truly. I’m so glad to see you guys and maybe you and I could grab lunch this weekend to make up for me leaving so soon and bringing this drama.” You ramble, furiously wiping the tears streaming down your face. Josh doesn’t say anything, he just frowns and pulls you into a much needed hug.

“Alright mama, don’t worry about it.. you haven’t ruined anything. He probably had too much to drink. As far as I’m concerned I’m the only one who knows about this little fallout. Text me when you’re home, okay? Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” He questions.

“I’m okay, I was only kinda tipsy and that whole thing really sobered me up.” You let out a pathetic laugh at how humorous this all was. He rubs your arm before allowing you to make your way out.

You felt guilty for leaving so early, you didn’t mean to make it about you and you would’ve stuck it out but given Jake's newfound attitude towards you, you didn’t feel very welcomed anymore. Maybe you could’ve been more enthused but this was also heavy news for you. You start feeling regretful as you realized you had been a bit insensitive. You would have shown more joy for your best friend but how were you meant to give any more than that?? I mean she left for the bathroom in the middle of the greeting for fucks sake.

You sighed feeling at a loss. Granted, your feelings weren’t his responsibility but how exactly was he expecting you to react? You weren’t necessarily jumping with joy at the idea. But then again, he had no idea about your feelings. In his eyes, his best friend wasn’t matching his energy on something he deemed important. You start wracking your brain on everything you could’ve done to avoid this, essentially kicking yourself while your already down.

You make it to your car, hoping to just go home, have a night of reflection in a warm bath. As you sit down your phone vibrates in your hand.

Message from: Sam Wam Bam🕺🏻

-some friend you are..

Sam?? What the fuck? Why is he saying that?

Message from: Jake ❤️

-don’t even bother reaching out anymore.

wow.

He must’ve said something to Sam. Now sam probably thinks you were being a shit friend and ditched him and his brother at their own welcome back party after sharing the news with everyone.

You dropped your head to rest on your steering wheel as you realized you seemed inconsiderate to the people who didn’t know about your repressed feelings for the man. You felt like you ruined everything. You knew better than to get your hopes up, why did you think today would be any different and he would spontaneously have feelings for you? Foolish.

You let out a sob at their messages knowing this whole situation has been misunderstood. Because of it, everything was crumbling down around you.

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So…thoughts? How we feelin’?

[gremlingottoosilly]

i stumbled upon ur account and oh my days i can't stop reading through all of your works 😭😭 one in particular that I can't get out of my mind was the chubby chef reader x könig. would there be a part 2 of that, if you don't mind me asking (not intended to impose any pressure!!). thank you for bringing in such wonderful creations out into the world huhuhu I've only known you for a sec but I already love your writings sm

You got yourself a fan. This was supposed to be something that made your heart tingle with excitement - but instead, it felt like having someone watch over your every move. Lean closer to observe whatever it was that you were doing each time...and reading the messages the guy has left you, you know it's probably correct. As much as you feared the thought. Now, you have more money than ever. Even as you stopped streaming after getting too many nasty comments from that one guy, he still somehow managed to find all of your bank account details - and use them to send you money directly instead of just stealing your cards and running for the hills. He sends you different amounts, never less than a 100 directly - sometimes so frequently, you had to disclose it as "streaming donations" to the tax collectors. They were coming from different accounts - something out of country, out of continent, something completely off-shore that almost made you believe it's just a money laundering scheme. You get to keep the money, though. This, and the feeling of dread filling you up every time you'd go out. Looking around anxiously, even as you finally get to spend money on something nice, something good for you. You finally have enough to buy from a nice, sustainable plus size brand, and the dresses are almost pretty enough to make you forget. Then, there is a message on your phone "More cleavage" "Shorter skirt" "Take the one with high waist" Your phone is flooded - both with praise at how pretty your ass looks in the pants you're wearing right now. The promises of kissing each of your tummy rolls as you slightly lean forward in that tight shirt of yours. Silent threats of retaliation if you're not going to buy the pretty flowy dress with cleavage so low, it's scandalous. You recognize the tone of the messages - and you recognize the flood of donations. you know you should be grateful for money and nice words, and you can almost convince yourself that you shouldn't look too much into this... Then there is another message. A photo, actually. Your photo right from the place where you stand.