#it's interesting to think of all of it again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enhani-ki · 3 days ago

Text

my biggest opp - reader x ni-ki part ii

warnings: smut, power play, cursing, etc.

read part one

you assumed that after having sex with ni-ki, your biggest opp, it would be awkward and uncomfortable…

but never this empty.

you arrive at your office monday morning to find your inbox startlingly free of his scathing one-liners. there's no "nice dress. shame about the brain." no "can you actually type without making typos?"

his favorite mockery is gone, somehow leaving you strangely bereft.

you tapped your pen against the wooden surface of your desk, scanning for any hint of his sabotages. the folder you thought you'd need for the managerial position, his file on your "possible fraudulent activities" are also nowhere to be found.

because according to him, you fucked him so good that he destroyed every single thing he had that could ruin you.

relief flares that he stopped, of course. but unlike him, you still do your best to make his life miserable, leaving yourself doused in guilt — feeling like an asshole.

an entire weekend passed. you swore you weren't dying for his banter, and yet whenever your phone buzzes, you leap out of your skin.

nishimura riki: stop messing with my report. are you fucking insane?

minutes passed.

nishimura riki: you must be missing me.

your lips twitched into a smirk. hell if you know how to respond.

i didn't do it, dumbass.

really? that's the reply? he'd know you were lying (or worse, honest). the cursor kept blinking in your reply box, taunting you. you typed, erase, typed again, erase — you racked your brain, thinking of a good comeback.

you: you're so stupid. also, my life has been so peaceful without you. please stay right where you are.

nishimura riki: i can come by your house and make your life hell again. if you want.

of course you want it. you'd kill him… or you'd kill for him to come over right now but shit, even the line between those urges were already starting to blur.

you spent your lunchtime writing a status report. your fingers snapping across the keys but your mind drifts to that shameless first night with him.

the night where you wrestled with him for that fraud file of yours. the heat of his breath when you kissed him, when it finally landed on your skin…

you remember all of it. every time you lean over to pull a document from the printer, you imagine the wide arc of ni-ki's arms behind you, the precise angle of his jaw, his thick lips devouring you while telling you how much he hated you for existing…

it's all fucking there.

and as if reading your thoughts, your phone lit up again.

nishimura riki: i want to see what i'm missing.

you: fuck you. you literally work five feet from me.

nishimura riki: and new skirt? goddamn

your stomach clenched. so he… noticed? he noticed your above the knee with the slit at the side that shows just enough thigh to be questionable but still professional according to the office dress code new skirt?

you: your point?

nishimura riki: you look good and i want to see it up close.

a shiver runs down your spine. ni-ki's words became so direct, so suggestive, you can't help but to swallow hard and bite your lip. you sighed, immediately closing the report window before anyone could see you blush.

you check your company messenger during break. you noticed nishimura riki's presence: his avatar pops into view with the status "ready to crush it."

how fucking pretentious.

you just hoped ni-ki would do something back so you could stop feeling guilty whenever you sabotage him, then it would all go back to hell. the hell you not-so-secretly love. the hell he seemed to have loved before — and now forgotten.

@you @ni-ki i expect great results from the two of you. focus on the work, not drama.

you sat on your couch, sipping a cup of lukewarm green tea when your phone buzzes.

nishimura riki: we're stuck together for the next couple days.

you smirked when you realized how he can't stop texting you. you plop your head back against the cushion, totally interested.

you: yeah. happy?

nishimura riki: ecstatic.

ni-ki signs off with a kiss emoji, making you scowl in disgust and throw your phone onto the cushion. he'll see how you haven't responded and he'll definitely laugh about it tomorrow.

you came into the office projecting confidence the next morning. ni-ki is already there, beating you in punctuality. he's leaning back in his chair, scrolling through his phone but smiled immediately when your eyes met.

"you're late," he drawls.

"shut up," you fired back, tossing your bag under the table. you saw another folder you've been dreading. ni-ki's opened it already— hands off, though.

"fuck... i couldn't sleep," he said, casually looking at your eyes.

who asked? is what you would've said but instead, it's: "why's that?" you leaned in, "last i heard, sleeping without protection was your specialty."

he nodded slowly. his urge of choking you to death using his necktie suddenly crossed his mind, like it always does whenever you talk back.

he never followed through, of course. because every time he pictures it, the ending is him fucking you instead. he saw you submitting not because of trust, but because you can't help it.

ni-ki sighed and quickly pulls your chair close to him, making your pulse quicken. "hmm, what do you mean 'heard'? we both know you know that for a fact," he teased, his hand trailing up to squeeze your thigh. "also, did i ever told you how bad you needed practice?"

heat blooms across your cheeks. didn't he say you fucked him good? this fucking guy keeps challenging you — mentally and sexually.

you scoffed and opened your mouth to retort but your boss already knocked on the door, barging in to start the meeting.

the day isn't even done, yet you and ni-ki have exchanged more messages than you have with anyone else all week:

nishimura riki: did you catch the way that idiot glanced at your legs during the meeting? that mf is gonna keel over later once you unplug your laptop.

that 'idiot' is notoriously stiff when it comes to 'office decorum.' the thought of him being flustered at your skirt is thrilling, but:

you: you know i'd rather see how you react when i ask you to take off my skirt.

nishimura riki: come to my office then, i'll show you.

you stood up as soon as everyone's too busy to notice your absence. you opened ni-ki's door without so much as a knock. the tall guy is leaning against the edge of his desk, shirt already untucked, tie loose — completely losing his patience.

you walk towards him. he traces a finger along your jaw, tilting your face up, brushing his thumb over your sexy lips.

"show me," you whispered, sliding both hands flat against his chest.

ni-ki leaned in. "hmm, watch me," he replied, turning you gently by the hips, pulling your ass against his crotch — where you can feel the rigid outline of his cock through his trousers. you pressed yourself back, grinding on him as his hand tightens on your hip.

"we have a meeting at six, right?" he murmurs in your ear. "let's get you naked under this skirt."

"i already am…"

unbelievable.

"you really are a fucking tease, huh?"

your breath hitched when you feel his tip nudging against your folds. ni-ki slowly slid inside your welcoming heat — his cock was so big and hard, making your knees buckle as you can practically feel him rearranging your guts without even moving.

ni-ki moaned, "oh, y/n—" biting his lower lip before pressing one more searing kiss to your neck. "i could stay like this all day," he said.

you let out a shaky gasp, head dropping forward with a whimper. your fingers reached back, grabbing his hands — his big, warm hands that are locked around your hips. "ni-ki…"

"let's not sin so much today," he groaned softly, hips giving one teasing rock that makes your whole body jolt before he pulls his cock out. he stepped back and adjusted your skirt like a gentleman — making you feel full and hollow in the same instant.

that same afternoon, you decided to head to the break room for water. you stop short when you saw ni-ki with the boss' niece, who came to visit the office.

she's laughing, batting her eyelashes at him while grinning so hard. you didn't mean to eavesdrop, but she mentioned something about wanting him to show her around — and that guy just casually folds his arm around her shoulders.

"look at you, you social climber," you interrupted, clapping your hands slowly, it echoed like a gunshot.

ni-ki glances at you lazily over the girl's shoulder. the niece looks startled, she gave you both a sheepish laugh before excusing herself.

"how long have you two been planning world domination?"

"are you jealous?" he asked, chuckling as he drags out a chair for himself. "'cause i'm telling you that's pathetic."

"wha—?"

"don't worry, y/n. it's just been few days, i'll make sure to find some time for my favorite brat."

you scoffed, grabbing your water a little too aggressive. "wow... you sound so proud of being passed around like a party favor."

"passed around?" he repeated, raising a brow. "jealousy already doesn't suit you and now you're possessive too?"

you shot him a sharp glare but he just leans back in his chair, spreading his legs like he's offering you a seat.

ni-ki sighed, "fine, i'll come over tonight," he declared so casually, it made your jaw drop.

"excuse me?"

"you heard me." he stretched and yawned. "you don't have to agree. i've already made up my mind."

"you're crazy."

he stands up, brushing past you as he grabs a protein bar "leave the door unlocked for me, okay?" he whispered, leaning in to give your cheek a quick kiss.

the sound of your skins slapping were obscene. ni-ki's breaths were heavy, his muscles tensed doing his best holding back from losing control. his necklace kept bouncing against his chest every time he slid in and out of your wet cunt. he hit it deep and slow, making your toes curl.

you looked down and watched at where your bodies met.

"oh, my–" he groaned when he felt your walls flutter around his cock. "this feels so fucking insane right now."

your arms tightened around his shoulders. "you haven't fucked me in days," you breathed out, looking up at him, admitting, "i was so stressed out."

"yeah, i know," he replied, "and look how mean you've gotten."

"kiss me..." you asked shyly — too quiet for ni-ki who was busy thrusting, far gone in the rhythm he was chasing to even hear it.

frustrated, you reached up and grabbed his hair — hard. your fingers got tangled so deep in the roots of his bleached strands, yanking him down without warning so you could force his mouth closer.

"ah—f-fuck—!" ni-ki hissed, jolting from the sharp tug. his hips slowed down for a second.

his palm slapped your arm away, the sound echoed a little loud in the room. it wasn't as harsh as what you did, but it was firm because he was hurt. a very clear response to pain.

your eyes slightly widened when he snatched your wrist, flipping you like you're a dead weight. one second you were just looking up at him — now, your face was pressed into the pillow, ass up. ni-ki's hand stayed flat on your lower back, keeping you in place.

his fingers dove straight into your hair, fisting it tight, pulling your head up until your back arched and your spine hit his chest. it forced a cry out of your throat, you quickly hold on to the headboard for your own control.

"it hurts, right?" he muttered, brows furrowed. his voice sounded pissed. "you dumbass."

your mouth parted to argue but you were too breathless and stunned at how fast he turned the tables on you.

ni-ki let go of your hair roughly. your cheek sank back into the pillow. his hands slid down to your hips, spreading you wider. it was careless and he moved confident as he positioned you just how he wanted.

your moans started crumbling into soft sobs — not from pain but from realizing how you weren't too used to getting caught off guard, let alone losing control.

your thighs started shaking, your breath had gone shallow, and ni-ki noticed it right away.

"shit—" he cursed under his breath, the movement of his hips started faltering before slowly pulling out from your pussy. he leaned down to kiss the back of your neck gently. "can you sit up?"

you nodded weakly. he helped you, pulling you gently onto his lap, seating you over one of his thighs while holding you carefully. "did i scare you?" he asked, worried and cautious.

"no...not at all." you replied, shaking your head in assurance.

ni-ki sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. he place a long kiss your temple, "i'm sorry, y/n." he continued, "do you want to stop?"

you sniffled and pulled back to look him in the eye like you're a little offended, "hell no."

a small grin broke across his face. he's amused, relieved, but mostly turned on all over again. ni-ki buried his face into your neck, laughing softly. "good," he murmured, lips dragging across your skin.

"ride me."

each movement felt better than the last. his cock dragged against the deepest part of you, his blunt tip kept hitting your cervix, making you gasp in pleasure.

ni-ki sat back against your headboard, his thighs spread wide, letting you straddle him fully. his hands never stopped moving – gripping your waist or holding your nape, the other catching the bounce of your breast. his thumb grazes over your nipple, and sometimes, he'd lean in to suck it, groaning at the way your pussy clenched in response.

his hair was messy. he was so loud – groaning through his gritted teeth – that goddamn chrome necklace catching the low light as he tip back his head to moan.

you can't stop staring. you can't stop running your fingers through his hair, brushing the strands back, or cupping his jaw just to see his face better.

"ni-ki..." you whispered.

his eyes blinked open, resting his forehead against yours.

you were moving fast and steady, sinking down on his dick over and over again while your bodies stayed too close — noses brushing, stealing each other's air.

"you– you're so handsome," you breathed out, barely even realizing you said it.

"me?"

"yes," you whispered. "you."

he grinned and leaned forward after hearing that double down. ni-ki gave you a messy, open-mouthed kiss, your fingers threading through his hair again as your hips rocked in desperate circles.

you pulled back to suck on his jaw next, under his ear, then down to his neck — biting softly, marking him. you wanted to leave something there. something that would remind him how much you wanted to do this over and over again.

now, you're sitting in the center of your mattress, blinking stupidly slow as you try to process just how many times he made you cum. "g– god," you mumbled, "i think my spine broke."

ni-ki huffs a soft laugh, still catching his breath too, resting his head on his arm while his other hand would caress your stomach or squeeze your boobs. "you're fine... it's hurting because you are still talking too much."

"o– ow..."

ni-ki sat up and hugged you. placing soft kisses to your shoulder, your neck, and then to your temple. "fine, let's have it checked later. just lay down with me for now."

you nodded, laying down, pressing your back against his chest. you felt his smile against your skin, smug and fond. ni-ki palmed your breasts again... he can't stop touching you even if he wanted to.

"mm, you're such a baby," he murmurs against your hair, "what happened to the terrifying monster who's always mean and yells at me in meetings?"

"dead," you replied quietly, leaning against him. "she died."

ni-ki chuckled again after seeing you blush. he grinned before peppering kisses on your cheek again and he doesn't say it but he adores this messy, clingy, soft version of you.

the one only he ironically gets to see.

you sniffled, pressing your face to his neck. "ni-ki..."

"what?"

"i wanna see bisco."

"oh..."

"i– i wanna see your dog," you sniffled again, voice sleepy and soft. "even if he hates me…"

ni-ki smiled and whispered, "okay, baby." brushing your hair off your sweaty forehead, "i'll take you to see bisco as soon as he gets home."

later after a doctor's consultation, the dog-sitter also dropped off bisco. you're already in his apartment, in his shirt he basically forced you into wearing.

"wait–!" ni-ki reached out to get bisco but it ran towards to where you were. "bisco!" you gasped, eyes lighting up as you rushed toward the tiny white ball of fur that sprinted right away from you.

"bisco, come on! we brought you snacks!" you tried coaxing, crawling on your knees to look under the couch, but the little thing lunged out and bit your wrist – not hard but more of a warning chomp – "fuck– ow!"

ni-ki leaned against the wall, arms crossed and smiling like a proud dad watching the chaos unfold. "i told you he's dramatic."

you didn't care. you kept following bisco around the room, letting him bite, bark while you giggled and chased him with unearned affection... which ni-ki found strange because before, you probably would've fought with that small dog, until it fears you for rejecting you.

finally, bisco ran out of energy and jogged towards his bed, completely ignoring you like a diva.

you pouted and walked back to ni-ki, dragging your feet like you'd just been dumped. "why is it sweet to everyone but me, huh?" you mumbled, melting into his waiting arms.

ni-ki laughed and tugged you in, pressing a warm kiss to your forehead. "i don't think he hates you, y/n," he murmured, voice soft as his hand roamed slowly down your ass. "give it some time."

"or he knows you've been giving someone else all your attention." you added, rolling your eyes. "right? i knew it, he's jealous."

his lips found yours. "no," kiss. "he's not," kiss. "jealous," kiss. the kisses are so different from before. no clashing of teeth, no busting a lip open, or bruising... it feels like forgiving each other.

and usually, this groping and kissing would spiral into sex, but today, you both weren't even thinking about it. there's just the need to be close, not just to get off.

ni-ki was so distracted by you that he doesn't even know when did he stopped trying to win in everything.

he had plans too, you know? he thought about getting his lick back but whenever you come around, the noises in his head disappears, the urge to get even fades, and suddenly, there's nothing even left to fight for.

he pulls back just enough to see your face. you blinked up at him, tired and sleepy, your lips were still swollen from all the nonstop kissing.

but still, you're so goddamn kissable.

you gave ni-ki a kiss again when you saw him staring – once, twice – "i gotta go," you whispered eventually.

"this early?"

"yeah, i'm getting hungry."

"we can cook–"

"stop–"

"–y/n..." he interrupted, cutting you off. ni-ki opened his mouth then closed it before clearing his throat. "no. nothing. just…" he rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly nervous. his eyes kept darting down to the floor like he couldn't believe he was about to say it. "just take care, okay?"

you tilted your head, "t–thanks…"

what the hell?

you're still mean and you still drive him insane, ni-ki took a deep breath – he swore he hates being this kind of guy but fuck it.

now or never.

"do you wanna have dinner with me?" he asked. he said it a little too fast, it's obvious that he was shy. "outside."

"huh?" you blinked. "you mean like–"

"yeah," he said, pressing his lips together, swallowing thickly. "like a–"

"...like a date."

ni-ki braces himself for the teasing and for your usual sharp reply. he knows you'll probably laugh in a few seconds but right now, you're just staring at him, eyes wide in surprise and that alone slightly gave him a little hope.

and he thinks, if this is how he loses, then fine.

let's let it be you.

a/n: my biggest opp 3k notes special! thank you so much for all the love and good comments. the first part came out on march 1 so it's been three months... there's so much (an understatement lmao) drafts for this and lots of scenes did not make it. as you can see, it's not so much focused on the smut and i honestly don't know if anyone will see this or if this part two this is good enough.

i teared up writing this T_T burning blue - mariah the scientist

tagging: @asaheyow @n4mh0pe @sunghoonsarmpit

604 notes · View notes

rawme-price · 8 hours ago

Text

more food agressive simon and reader :) how the others react lol.

gaz is the first to notice, namely because he and ghost hang around often. whenever you pass him in the halls, you give gaz a quick smile and press something into ghosts hand. ghost tucks it into his pocket before gaz can see, but hes curious.

so gaz one somewhat suspiciously lurks in the shadows and watches when you see ghost alone in the gym. you come up and pass him something again, instantly launching into a conversation. gaz cant hear it, but he +can+ see the granola bar that ghost unwraps and eats while u talk....okay. gaz has literally never seen ghost eat before, but whatever. he tucks the information away for later.

soap accidentally stumbles in on you two's lunch routine. he had ducked into a random room to avoid a particularly...interested newbie, and came face to face with ghost mid-bite, holding a small bento box in large scarred hands.

his feet were kicked up to the table, and you were in the middle of chatting about something. ghosts posture instantly changes when soaps eyes sweep over him. stiffens and closes off. you press ur lips into a thin line and give soap a look that very much communicates i want to fucking kill you.

price is the one who actually brings it up. him, soap, and gaz are all eating lunch in his office to enjoy some quiet for once. "has either of you noticed something off with ghost?" he asks bluntly, its important for the captain to know about any changes with his men. soap and gaz both share a look, before gaz shrugs and responds

"i think the new kids been feeding him, yknow the shy one?" he offers "swear to god everytime those two pass ghost gets passed a granola bar."

'"yeah," soap adds, taking a sip of his redbull "walked in on 'em sharing lunch last week. ghost seemed...relaxed. i dont think ive ever seen him kick his feet up before."

everyones silent for a moment, before price smiles to himself with a nod. "okay, good." he takes a bite of his own food. "im glad hes got someone looking out for him when we cant." and they leave it at that, silently wondering how you managed it.

(everyone say ty @disgustedwombat for reminding me to post this. angsty pt 3 is here)

#cod #cod angst #cod fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader

553 notes · View notes

redrage71890 · 11 hours ago

Text

Backing Voice (Yan! KPDH x Fem! MC) Part 1

Synopsis: The end of their tour is just around the corner, one more show. Too bad some demons decide to ruin their party.

Genres: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn (?), Yandere (?)

CW: None

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2

A/N: I’m desperately trying to push these out while the hype is real.

————————————————————

”La, la, la, la, la, la, la~”

”La, La, La, La, La, La, Laa~~”

”LA, LA, LA, LA, LA, LA, LAAA~~~”

Locked in an airplane bathroom, a slowly rising voice echos about that can barely be heard from the outside. The tone ranging from fierce to soft in seconds between each line of words or sounds from her mouth.

Shocking to think this came from a girl who hasn’t performed in front of an audience since she as a child.

“I’ve always felt like a monster”

”Long before I was bit~”

”Only seen as a monster~ Let’s just say I’m used to it~”

”And I grew tired cause loving had only hurt me bad”

“But loving you is a good problem to have”

”And I’m used to that, but I could get used to this~”

*Knock*

��Hey (Y/N), you gonna join us for our carb load? Don’t worry we have plenty enough for you! If you want to that is. You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it.” Zoey asks from the other side with clear excitement yet nervousness in her tone.

Only in recent times has (Y/N) grew comfortable enough to eat with the girls. For the first few days of meeting each other, she didn’t exactly talk that much. Or even made eye contact.

One on one conversations didn’t last very long in some cases, devolving into awkward silence usually with Rumi and Mira. Zoey on the other hand tended to continue her fun topics of discussion and even unintentionally rant about little things that have ticked her off or grabbed her interest.

Ended up dragging (Y/N) into watching all her turtle videos at one point. And to think (Y/N) ended up watching the entirety without a break along with Zoey.

That’s when the girls figured out something.

Just when they thought (Y/N) wasn’t listening or even uninterested in their talks, she always took everything in.

Simply listening to what they say with small gestures and hums that indicate her awareness.

Overtime, they met eyes as one talks.

And the next, she was beginning to speak and respond.

Though even at the beginnings they noticed her slight tremor and shivering as one would approach and or initiated conversations.

But time has passed.

Progress was made.

The social barrier was breaking down steadily.

And their unknowing hunger for that softness and comfort grew

“U-Um, sure. I’ll be out in a second.”

”(Gasp) Really?! Okay! I’ll tell the girls!”

Hearing Zoey speed off made (Y/N) chuckle at the cartoonish footsteps and visual in her head. (She looked like sanic)

Before she unlocked the door, she took one final look in the mirror. Something she did often enough to become habit. It wasn’t the kind of admiring like being in awe of yourself or even picking out flaws in your appearance or self.

No.

Her eyes always just stared ahead.

No blinking.

No words.

No thoughts.

All besides one…

Despite everything in the world…

It’s still you.

Turning her head away and unlocking the door. She was met again with the prestigious white walls and cushioned seats of the plane, with the compartments of materials for the plane attendants to use and serve for them in their areas.

Just outside at a small table filled to the brim with carb heavy foods scattered about. The three hunters already decked out in their performance attires and faces of makeup, eagerly awaiting to bring joy to their fans.

She didn’t exactly match the dress code.

Just a simple yet sophisticated attire of black and purple with hints of gold about. A purple buttoned cropped top, black flared pants with the ends a shire grey with patterned webs, expected black boots, a black and gold blazer jacket and a black tie loosely done.

Complimenting her further with dangling gold earrings with thin tassels. Hanging from her waist is a small lavender blue charm with two flower stones of the centre with loose strands of material. A small thin string of a mix of gold and silver instruments strung about, ranging from an electric and acoustic guitar, to a violin and piano.

Despite the similar golds and charms on their attires, hers felt out of place.

Their faces lighting up upon meeting her own (f/c) and gold rimmed eyes.

“(Y/N)! We were just about to start! Come huddle with us!” Zoey eagerly pulls the usually anxious girl along with them, placing herself between the maknae and their dancer.

“Okay, this is our biggest show yet.”

“The most songs.”

“The most notes.”

”The most moves.”

”Which means the most carb loading.”

”For the fans!”

Hastily grabbing a couple of kimbap for herself, seeing as the three stuffs whatever they grab on the table. (Y/N) felt a bit envious that they eat and talk so comfortably with each other with food splattering out at time. Preferring to savour her food and not choke out of pure embarrassment.

Not that the girls would ever judge.

But that did allow her to send the plane attendants apologetic smiles and bows, for they have to clean up the mess.

’Apologies, I know how you feel.’

Though that didn’t stop the lady attendant to back away from them.

”Okay, time for our pre-game ramyeon!”

“Here you go (N/N), hope you don’t mind this flavour.” Mira hands her a ramyeon cup with her face and flavour on it. Feeling grateful for not being left out again she sends the tall girl a thankful thumbs up and smile.

”Happy fans, happy Honmoon!”

“Wait, there’s no water in these.”

As Rumi was asking the attendant for water, her ringtone began to go off. Seeing the caller ID she hastily answered.

“Hi, Bobby!”

"Yeah, hi! Um, what are you doing?"

"About to eat our pre-show ramyeon."

"Pre-show? What about the show-show?"

Finishing off her kimbap with a nervous gulp, (Y/N) smacked her own face out of pure shame.

'I should've known!'

Considering her position in HUNTR/X set by her mother and Celine, they pulled some strings and made her part of staff as strange mix of a producer, co-writer and manager along with Bobby. Difference was that she lived with them and had a hand in their music.

When it comes to music, she's the one to go to.

Whether it be making samples and demos, to finalising a few songs in their instrumentals and fixing up little details.

But for demons?

Its a different story...

As the girls were talking to Bobby (and greeting the fans that stole his phone for a few seconds), (Y/N) just stared at the staff with them. Looking closer now, it was obvious they were demons.

I mean...

Pouring coffee in a plant, randomly observing a spoon like it was an art piece and not to mention spinning hotteok like a wheel instead of eating it? Need she say more?

The girls seemed to fully realise what was up as they disappointedly glared at them. Groaning about not finishing their food.

"I didn't even get to finish my ramyeon!"

"Why do they always interrupt our snacking?"

"(Garbled) They will face my wrath!"

"(Whispered) Zoey, make sure not to choke, please."

Rumi confronted the demons with a board expression, obviously pointing out their strange behaviours and spotting patterns along their arms. Stepping on ones foot fully revealed their colourful and abnormal real forms.

"Oh, you got the patterns. Now you gotta die."

Taking a step behind the girls to let them deal with the demons verbally, (Y/N) took all of their cups and skidded past everyone making sure to avoid the confrontation.

"Not our fans."

"When you mess with our fans..."

"We need to make it hurt."

"Ugh, you came at a bad time"

"But you just crossed the line"

"You wanna get wild?"

"Okay, I'll show you wild!"

Twirling around and holding down the demons while beating them hand-to-hand, unphased as they begun to sing their song. Heating up the kettle and passing it to Mira to further beat down a demon into a seat.

The large demons shadow towered over (Y/N), planning to strike the fourth down without hesitation. But her (f/c) and gold eyes saw it him first. Ducking underneath his arm and quickly pouring the hot water in her and Mira's cups before throwing the kettle and the hamburger flavoured cup for Zoey.

Beating down the leaping demons while pouring for herself and Rumi with no sweat.

Manoeuvring through the thrown around demons with her cup in hand, (Y/N) avoided the touch of any demon.

Its not like she could do much anyway.

Though before digging into to their ramyeon, they had something to finish off.

"Knocking you out like a lullaby~"

"Hear that sound ringing in your mind~"

Threads of blues and whites swerve around each of the girls, forming into unique shined weapons in hand. Daggers for Zoey, a spear for Mira and a sword of Rumi.

But the threads around (Y/N) came around and formed into a glowing blue and purple parasol. Emitting rays of light that make the demons freeze when touched.

"Better sit down for the show"

"'Cause I'm gonna show you how it's done, done, done"

Slicing and dicing the demons that dare to come their way. Eagerness writhing on their faces as they slice down the demons. All the while, (Y/N) hums and adlibs through the song. Each line and twist of the parasol emitted a ray of light.

Glancing around at the girls, adoration and fun filled their expressions. Moving like lightning speed and the highlighting colours of their blades faster than usual and bodies consumed by calmness and beauty.

"Run, run, we run the town"

"Whole world playin' our sound"

"Turnin' up, it's goin' down"

"Huntrix show this, how it's done, done, done"

Interrupting their little beating, the aircraft shook as the lights flickered off. Quickly making sure their ramyeon wasn't ruined and in hand, they looked outside to see flying pieces of the plane with the demons on them.

"Yeah, this plane's trashed."

Slurping up their noodles and downing the soup with a sigh of relief-with no hesitation, the four of them dropped out of the plane at lighting speed. (Parasol still in hand but closed)

”Won either way, we're one in a million“

“We killin', we bring it, you want it? Okay”

Catching up with the escaped demons, landing on them as they fixed up some makeup and appearances. Pulling out of her pocket gulped down a pill of sorts with a bottle of water she somehow managed to down while falling.

“Heels, nails, blade, mascara”

“Fit check for my napalm era”

“Need to beat my face, make it cute and savage”

“Mirror, mirror on my phone, who's the baddest? (Us, hello?)“

Approaching closer to the stadium, the three hunters rocket towards the centre stage in glowing blue light. (Y/N) diverges from their path and opens her parasol, encasing her body with a mix of blue and lavender petals. Finding herself backstage with many stage crew members and staff running about.

A spare microphone lazily placed on a spare speaker, she takes it away and runs to the sound guys by the controls.

“It’s showtime! Run it from 1:57 but make sure to keep the backing track. We need blue lights pointing in from the back of the roof top the stage coming from the sky.”

Nodding along with her instructions as they swiftly get to work. One worker handing her three other microphones as she runs towards the edge of the stage.

Spotting the three demons in the centre and the large shadows of the girls in the smoke screen,

”Knocking you out Iike a lullaby”

”Hear that sound ringing in your mind”

”Better sit down for the show”

”Cause I’m gonna show you (I’m gonna show you~)”

”(I’m gonna show you~) How it’s done-done-done”

Striking down the demons (Y/N) hastily threw the mics to the girls that they caught effortlessly. Mira even smirking at her as they continue their song.

”I don’t talk, but I bite, full of venom (Uh)”

”Spittin’ facts, you know that’s”

”Okay, like, I know I ramble”

”But when shootin’ my words, I go Rambo”

”Took blood, sweat, and tears, to look natural (Uh)”

”That’s how its done-done-done”

Hiding behind near the supposed makeup room, (Y/N) tightly holds the mic and listeners carefully to the backing track and counts the time until its just her and Rumi.

“Hear our voice unwavering”

”Til our song defeats the night”

”Makin’ fear afraid to breathe”

”Til the dark meets the light~ (how its done-done-done)”

Pushing her vocals to its highest as she meets with Rumi’s high note. Continuing to belt and echo the chorus through towards the end.

“HUNTR/X don’t miss, how its done-done-done~”

‘One down, many others to go…’

————————————————————

Edit: WHERE R U PEOPLE COMING FRKM? Genuinely curious, but thank you so much for loving this idea I had! Also first time trying a tag list

Tags: @kitsune-05, @the-bookish-artist, @apelepikozume, @shoopershtar, @ravvilicous, @valeriele3, @vikc, @lasa27, @chipster-321, @greensunflowerjuna

530 notes · View notes

zyettemoon1800 · 2 days ago

Text

Saja Boys watching you get your hair braided

Since becoming the manager of the Saja Boys, you haven't been able to catch a break. If it wasn't a meet and greet then it was practice, and if it wasn't that then they needed you to do something for them. Just when you thought you were going to crash out, Jinu decided that everyone deserved a break for the next day.

Knowing that you might not get this chance again, you made an appointment to get your hair braided. The following day, as you woke up extremely early to go to your appointment, you were surprised and annoyed to see all the boys up and ready to go with you.

Not wanting to deal with them, you told them that they could tag alone as long as they are on their good behavior.

Baby

He wasn't really interested in going, but since everyone else was going he just tagged along.

For the first five hours he was fine and kept himself entertained, however, after his phone dies and he doesn't have a charger, so he makes it your problem.

While you are sitting in the chair, he will walk up to your chair and look at your hair when the person is braiding it. "Are they supposed to be different sizes?" He'll say and then walk away

Romance

He did really well for the entire 10-hour process.

He most sat over by you and made sure you didn't need anything.

As you are getting your hair braided, he is already showing you pictures of other braid styles that he thinks will look good on you.

Since the place that you are getting your hair done at is in a kind of crowded area, he will go out and get food for you

Mystery

He didn't make it pass the two-hour mark

He is a fidgeter and sitting for hours on end is not something he wants to do.

He will start to read and look at everything in the store and when he is done with that, he will mess with you for a little bit by staring at you or sitting by you and putting his head on your lap.

He would definitely go with Romance whenever he goes out to get food.

Abby

Another one with a short attention span

He will probably join Mystery in reading everything in the store, however he does get bored on that pretty soon, so he will start lifting heavy things and start exercising.

He will start flexing and posing in the mirror and taking pictures with you in the shot

Jinu

Through the entire process, he is asking you a bunch on questions about your hair and why you wanted to spend you day off doing this.

You both had a talk about how your hair does much better when it is left alone.

He is amazed by your braids and keeping touching them

However, after about five hours he does leave because he is bored.

#kpdh #kpop #saja boys x reader #saja boys #baby saja #mystery saja #romance saja #abby saja #jinu #kpop demon hunters #x black reader

410 notes · View notes

toinkeroo · 23 hours ago

Text

again, no one asked for this, but:

*Shiz University Group Chats *- Interlude

Pfannee the Pfirst: [image attached]

Pfannee the Pfirst: um. anyway. this happened. didn’t want to die with this on my camera roll

Shenshen 👠: you were spying????

Pfannee the Pfirst: not spying. just... passing by very quietly and then stopping for ten minutes to witness history

Boq W: IS THAT glinda doing elphaba’s makeup ON HER BED

Glinda 🌟: 😇

Elphaba 💚: pfannee you were supposed to knock or speak or not exist for that moment

Pfannee the Pfirst: sorry babe but it was giving rare intimate power exchange plus glinda looked so focused

Shenshen 👠: she’s holding the palette like a sacred text

Fiyero 🔥: …

Fiyero 🔥: so just to clarify glinda was on her bed knees on the mattress face like inches from elphaba’s

Pfannee the Pfirst: yes like aggressively romantic proximity

Glinda 🌟: she let me do WINGED LINER ✨ do you understand how close you have to be to the soul for that

Elphaba 💚: this was a mistake

Boq W: so does this mean you're… dating now? or just terrifying the rest of us with unresolved tension?

Fiyero 🔥: i just think it’s interesting that when i offered her a single enchanted flower she hexed me but glinda gets to straddle her and sparkle

Glinda 🌟: i was graceful about it

Elphaba 💚: you had one knee in my ribcage

Fiyero 🔥: do you see what i mean

Shenshen 👠: i think we should all thank pfannee for her service

Pfannee the Pfirst: i accept gratitude in the form of gossip and exclusive visual content glinda pls forward that second photo where she’s scowling like a goddess

Glinda 🌟: done [attached: temptress_with_opinions.jpg]

Fiyero 🔥: i’m logging off

ur gonna be popular

#wicked #gelphie #shiz school groupchat #fiyero is so mad #ozian nonsense #wicked musical #glinda ur gay is showing

43K notes · View notes

lambiconic · 2 days ago

Text

wait-- we're all into the same barista!?

if you havent, read the first four!!: simon gaz johnny price ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Johnny was the first to bring you up, of course. Slipping it into conversation oh so casually that he’d managed to get a date with a girl he’d had his eye on.

Simon looked up for just a second, brows raised. “You go on dates all the time, mate. What’s special about this one?”

“Flirt with half the population when given the chance.” Price added.

Johnny didn’t answer right away. He just sat there, eyes on the floor for a second too long. Then, slowly, he shook his head. “Nah. She’s different.”

Simon scoffed. “They’re all different, until they’re not.”

“Well, I’m interested! Tell me all about her, mate.” Gaz spoke up, shooting the other two men a glare.

Johnny instantly broke into a wide grin as he stood. “I’ve been hangin’ around that coffee place! Y’know, the one near base? Yeah, chattin’ up the barista—”

He barely got the words out before the table erupted.

“The barista…?” “The cashier?!” “Which one!?” “Wait, what shop!?” “The one with the pretty smile?” “Always recommends weird pastries?”

The questions flew like bullets, all three of them suddenly leaning forward, eyes narrowing.

“Uhh.. I don’t think she ever made me buy any pastries–” Johnny began. “But..uhh,..whats-it-called? The uhh Blue Moon.”

Simon’s eyes narrowed. “Wait. That’s my coffee shop.”

Price instantly frowned. “Your coffee shop? Mate, I’ve been going there for weeks. Doll at the counter always give me the extra stamp on my card.”

“WHICH BARISTA!?!” Gaz, asked again. “The..the one with the big smile? And the eyes–”

“They all have eyes,” Simon grumbled, interrupting him.

“No! MY–The barista there when I go has these.. These eyes!” He rambled on glancing around the table. “And when she smiles–”

“Her nose wrinkles?” Price guessed, jaw tight.

“And her gums show,” Simon throws in.

“What.. what are ye guys talking about?” Johnny’s grin faded slightly. ‘No.. wait. I’ve a pic of her.”

The three men waited with bated breath as Johnny pulled out his phone and carefully slid it across the table. The three men leaned in, crowded around the phone like it held classified intel.

And there, still in uniform and holding a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers, was you. Pretty, charismatic, nose wrinkling, gum-smile you.

“Oh, bloody hell,” Price muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Gaz just stared, jaw slack. “That’s my barista.”

Simon said nothing…just exhaled slowly through his nose, gaze locked on the photo like it had personally betrayed him.

Johnny looked between them, stunned. “Yer all takin’ the piss, right?”

“No one’s takin’ the piss, mate,” Price said, sounding remarkably grim for a man talking about a barista. “That’s her.”

Johnny sat down slowly. “So... what yer sayin’ is... we’ve all been tryin’ to pull the same lass.”

Another silence.

Then Simon finally spoke. “...She’s good.”

Gaz just leaned back, arms crossed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I need a drink. Not coffee.”

372 notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 2 days ago

Note

May I request Yoona in green pls? Those hips, that peach, that bod, everything is perfect she makes you want to just devour her whole…in a good way.

https://x.com/mystarmyangel/status/1674366849121927168

https://x.com/mystarmyangel/status/1674386325661945861

https://64.media.tumblr.com/adf6a28c97285056f2422e72d36288e5/da6b6af7912c5cf4-b0/s2048x3072/327d9b42bc0e711321c074e44d3538ccf2587a5f.jpg

Green

(Yoona X Male Reader) Word count: 3265 words

"Have fun, honey."

You read your mom's text after telling her you are going to spend the night at a friend's house. Putting your phone back into your pocket you cross the road. Your hand shakes a little in excitement when you ring the doorbell. The sound of heels clicking on marble floor reaches your ears. Then they seem to stop right in front of the door. The milky glass enables you to make out a silhouette behind the door.

When it swings open you're greeted by Im Yoona. Your teacher.

"Hello, Ms. Im."

And your friend's mother.

"Hello, honey. Are you here for my son?"

"Yeah. I planned on sleeping over tonight."

You try to look nonchalant, but you notice your voice betraying you a little. You know it's wrong and yet you have fantasized about your friend's hot mom a million times. The fact that she's your teacher makes it even worse. In a good and in a bad way.

"Oh? He didn't mention anything."

"Typical."

You joke and Ms. Im cracks a laugh.

"I swear he got this from my husband."

She steps out of the way to let you inside.

"Please come in. He isn't home yet though."

"He isn't?"

You take your shoes off and follow her into the house.

"No, but I'm sure he'll be here soon."

As you walk after her your eyes naturally wander towards Ms. Im's perfect backside. Her most attractive feature is definitely her face and she has an amazing body to go with that, but seeing her ass in that tight green skirt has you thinking all kinds of things. You know you shouldn't think them. She's your teacher. Your friend's mother.

"Anything to drink, sweetheart?"

You feel something tingle inside of you whenever she addresses you with these teasing nicknames. You know she is just doing it to her son's friend and she has been doing it for years. But you wish she would see you as someone on her level.

"I would... I would like a water, please."

"Water?"

She chuckles as she walks into the open kitchen.

"I can't remember the last time my son drank water. He's always after something sweet. Please, make yourself comfortable."

She motions towards the couch in the living room and you don't plan on ignoring her offer. As you sit down you watch her preparing a glass of water. She's facing you and once again you can clearly see the face that always distracts you during class. Just like earlier today. That small, but warm smile and the always loving and caring gaze she seems to carry around everywhere.

"It's a hot day today. You should really be drinking a lot."

You quickly pretend like you were not staring when Ms. Im looks up and walks around the counter towards you.

"It really is."

You accept the glass with both hands.

"Thank you."

Ms. Im sits down next to you on the couch and you're both frightened and excited. Your gorgeous teacher is sitting so close to you, her knee almost touching yours.

You watch her reaching for the hand cream on the coffee table and you nervously take a sip.

"So, what are you boys up to today?"

"Homework."

You reply, which earns you a hearty laugh.

"You're such a sweet talker, mister."

Ms. Im playfully slaps your leg. You feel your cheeks heating up and you would've loved to feel her hand on your thigh just for a second longer.

"For real, though. Anything interesting in mind?"

She glances over at you with an encouraging smile on her lips.

"I was serious."

You chuckle.

"But apart from that we thought about going out later."

"Anywhere specific?"

The slight hint of hidden curiosity doesn't escape you. As much as you would love the idea of Ms. Im being insecure about you going out, you know it's just wishful thinking. She's just curious because of her son.

"A friend of ours has the house to herself for the weekend."

"Oh, I see."

You continue to glance at her hands as Ms. Im is applying the hand cream to her skin. Until now you never thought of fingers or hands as explicitly attractive parts of a person's body. But the way the white cream is partially covering her skin makes you shift around a little.

"And I'm sure your mom knows what you've planned?"

She gives you a cheeky, but knowing smile. One that warms your heart. You know that she is pretty chill about parties and all that. And of course you could lie, but you don't want to get caught the next time the two of them talk.

"Not exactly."

Ms. Im laughs again.

"Teenagers."

She continues to massage the cream into her skin. You would've loved to correct her. You're not a teenager, you're a man. But you know she'd just give you an amused laugh.

"Can't blame you though. I was once your age as well."

Your breath hitches when Ms. Im leans closer. Her smile widens a little and you know she caught on to that.

"It's gonna be our little secret."

She winks and smiles at you and you have the desperate urge to excuse yourself and head to the bathroom.

Ms. Im then ups the ante by placing her hand on your thigh.

"I hope you're able to keep it."

Suddenly you have the feeling she isn't talking about the party anymore. You try your best to stay calm and look into her eyes. Not just because you want to seem confident, but also because you're very aware of the fact that you can see her black bra shimmer through her green top. Earlier in class today it only seemed like imagination, but now when she sits so close, it's clear that it's definitely real.

"But you know me. I'm not the best in keeping my mouth shut."

Only now you notice how her tone has switched from warm to seductive. You don't know when it happened.

"I'm little chatter box."

You bite your lip. You pray that you're not dreaming. Is she really hinting at the thing you've been thinking about since she opened the door?

"I don't think you're that bad."

"Oh, really?"

Ms. Im's smile continues to play around her lips as she raises an eyebrow in disbelief.

"Yeah."

You look away. Out the window. Looking at her is starting to become too much.

"Oh, please. You're probably the person who knows the most of my son's embarrassing childhood moments. Even the ones he doesn't know himself."

The mention of your friend makes you remember that this his mom. That this is wrong. You shouldn't even be entertaining the thought of his mother wanting something from you.

But when you turn your head again to look at her, you catch Ms. Im looking down at your body, her teeth biting her lower lip. You glance down as well. Wearing a white shirt on such a hot day was a mistake. Even without moving much you're sweating. Or maybe it's because of her? The fabric is sticking to your well toned body.

"But I think you could help me."

"H-Help you?"

You see her having to repress a laugh at your nervousness.

"Yes. Help me."

By now she's almost whispering into your ear.

Then you feel two of her fingers slowly moving towards your crotch on your thigh. As if they're walking.

"If we share a secret, a very important one, I'm sure I can learn how to not tell anyone."

You know that she didn't mean anyone. She didn't mean your mother. She meant her husband. And your friend.

"I-I'm not sure about this."

You say that, but you're mentally kicking yourself.

"Just go with it!"

Your inner thoughts scream at you.

"Trust me, handsome. No one will ever find out."

Once the last word has left her lips, Ms. Im's fingers have reached the zipper of your jeans.

You finally manage to look into her eyes. A mixture of lust, excitement and amusement meets you.

"Oh oh."

She says as if it was an accident.

Your breath catches in your throat as she keeps eye contact. The noise of her opening your zipper is the only sound in the room. Both if you don't dare to breathe for a second.

Then, Ms. Im reaches into your pants. You feel her fingers search for a moment. You aren't wearing underwear and soon her fingers wrap around your length.

"Oh my god."

You whisper, which makes her smile.

"You never had a handjob before?"

Carefully shaking your head, you hope this will turn into more than a handjob.

Ms. Im takes your cock out of your jeans and looks down on it.

"Not bad. More than I usually deal with."

Her wicked grin and another teasing bite of her lip makes you shiver. Did she just tell you you're bigger than her husband? Your friend's dad?

"Do you like this?"

You can only nod as she strokes your length. She's doing it very slowly, almost too slowly. But you're sure she knows that all too well. Ms. Im always likes to tease. And it seems like she doesn't mind doing it with your cock in her hand as well.

"Want me to go a little faster?"

There it is. The innocent tone of her voice makes you even more desperate.

"Yeah."

Your voice sounds hoarse now.

"Say please."

Her whisper makes you bite your lip.

"Please, Ms. Im."

"That's a good boy."

You can't believe this is happening. Your head rolls back when your teacher picks up the pace a little.

"So nice..."

She murmurs and then looks you directly in the eyes.

"And so thick."

Your cock twitches in her hand, which only widens her smile.

"So you like it when someone compliments your cock?"

"I-I guess so."

"You guess?"

Ms. Im shakes her and you notice her teacher face appearing.

"Don't guess. You know, or you don't know. Do you guess when you take an exam?"

That'd be a yes, but you feel too good to ruin this right now.

"No. I like it."

"That's what I thought."

Ms. Im reaches for the bottle of hand cream once more.

"Do you want me to continue then? Do you want me to admire and praise your dick?"

She is saying that with such a nonchalant and innocent tone. It makes you buck your hips up into her hand.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Her smirk makes you melt further into the couch. Especially when she lets the bottle hover over your cock.

"I'm gonna have to empty this all over your cock. It's so big I won't be able to pleasure you properly otherwise."

You sigh when you feel the cold cream fall onto your tip.

"That's it."

Ms. Im begins to spread it all over your cock as she continues to talk. "I have to admit, your dick really looks nice. Long and thick...and look at those veins. I bet I'd feel every inch of you if you were pounding me."

The dirty talk alone is already challenging for you. Ms. Im talking about talking your cock is even worse. She continues to stroke you, which means you don't even get a break. Her cream is completely covering your cock now. She has picked up her pace again and the white substance sticks to her fingers and parts of your length.

"And with a cock like that? Your cum must taste amazing."

You watch her lick her lips which almost does it for you. If it weren't for the sound of the front door opening. Your eyes grow wide, but before you can even move, Ms. Im has already thrown a blanket over your lap.

It's the person you've been waiting for.

"Hey, mom."

He sees you sitting next to her.

"Hi, man. Sorry for being late."

"It's all good."

You know you sound weird. But it's hard to talk if your friend's mom is stroking your cock while he's standing right there.

"I'll take a quick shower and then I'm ready to go."

"Take your time."

This is the first time in your life that you really mean those words.

"He's right, honey."

Ms. Im looks into your eyes while her son walks out the room.

"Take your time."

Her handjob becomes quicker under the blanket and before you can say something about getting closer towards your limit, she places a finger over her lips, shushing you.

The two of you hear the lock of the bathroom door click. Then the shower starts.

"Come wit me."

Her devilish smile makes you expect the worst, but you still get up. Not just because you want to feel more of her body, but because she is holding onto your cock.

"Now..."

Ms. Im has reached the bathroom door.

"If you can keep it together until he's done, you can do whatever you want with me."

You swallow hard. Not sure what she is hinting at, but you nod your head in agreement.

"Which implies your chance of deciding where to dump your load as well of course."

Ms. Im gives you another wink.

Your breath hitches when you watch her reach down and take her panties off. She keeps the skirt on, but the black lace disappears into the right pocket of your jeans.

"Take me."

She gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Take me hard."

Too stunned to speak, you stay in place while Ms. Im turns around. She places her hands on the white wood of the door and slightly bends over.

"Come on. I've caught you staring at me thousands of times. I know you've fantasized about this exact moment. Put your cock in my pussy and your dreams will become reality."

You hesitate only a second and then you step closer. With a shaking breath you let your cock disappear underneath her skirt.

"Oh god."

A whisper escapes you when you feel her wet folds against your tip.

"Yes, right there. That's where your huge cock belongs."

You push into your friend's mom, penetrating the tight walls of her pussy. Your hands find themselves on her naked waist as you try to hold onto something. Her insides overwhelm you as you push deeper. A groan escapes your mouth when you bottom out inside of Ms. Im and you almost fall over, your legs shaking.

"God, yes. Fill me up."

She moans against the door and despite the running water you're afraid your friend is gonna hear her. That's why you want to take it slow, but you can't control yourself. Within a matter of seconds you thrust in and out of her at a quick pace, leaving Ms. Im a moaning mess.

"Deeper. Harder."

She half whispers, half moans. Her hands hold onto the wood for support as you basically fuck her against it. You pull her hips back whenever you push forward, making her take your entire cock.

"Fuck. You are stretching me out so well. Your cock is amazing."

Her breathless sighs and moans makes it harder for you to keep your composure.

You still can't believe your fucking your teacher, your friend's mom, while he's showering on the other side of the door. It feels wrong and you think you should stop. But you also know that it's too late to turn around. You already had a taste of Ms. Im's pussy by now and you are sure you won't be able to live without it from now on.

"Keep going, yes."

Her moans begin to increase in volume.

"Ruin this pussy, baby."

You decide to silence her, afraid she might get you caught. Even over the running shower you can clearly hear her.

"Make me your-"

As much as you would've loved to know the ending to that sentence, your hand seals her mouth right before she finishes it. Your other hand still holds her waist and now you are able to fuck her a little harder.

Ms. Im moans into your hand. You feel her drooling onto your palm a little as the pleasure overwhelms her. Unfortunately, you become louder as well. Your grunts increase in volume as you near your end and the continuous thrusting makes you grow tired. You know it won't be long until the shower stops running. It can only be a matter of minutes.

Afraid you might not last that long, you lean forward and rest your lips right next to Ms. Im's ear. If these are your final moments, you might as well say everything you ever wanted to say to her.

"You're so fucking sexy."

You groan into her mouth while your cock plunges deeper into her snatch.

"I dream about fucking you in your class constantly."

Ms. Im moans into your hand in response as if she's challenging you to do it the next time you're in her class.

"Whenever you lecture us about anything I just wanna shut you up by putting my cock in your mouth."

You feel yourself getting closer towards your orgasm. Your rhythm starts to become irregular.

"I-fuck..."

You feel Ms. Im's tight pussy hugging you even more, making it even harder to move inside of her.

"I want to cover your face with my cum. Make you look like the slut I always imagined you to be."

It hits you in that exact moment that this really isn't your imagination anymore. This is real. Your inside Ms. Im's pussy. You're fucking her. Her walls are threatening to make you cum.

That's when the shower stops. You only realize the water is off a couple of seconds later. Instinctively, you let go of Ms. Im's mouth and slow down. Which proves to be difficult, because by now you really are right on the edge.

But instead of pushing you off of her and leading you away, Ms. Im just turns her head and looks at you. Her eyes are filled with lust and you catch her lower lip quivering.

"Do it."

She whispers.

"Do it right now."

You don't understand at first, but when she placed a hand your abdomen and pushes you a step back, you realize what she means. Your cock slowly leaves her tight cavern, her juices making it easy for you to slide out. Once she isn't filled anymore, Ms. Im turns around fully. She gives you another deep kiss and then looks into your eyes.

"Now make me look like the slut that I am."

She gets on her knees right in front of you. Your breath hitches. Ms. Im wraps her hand around your cock once more. Instead of her cream, it's her juices that make it a smooth handjob. It only takes her a couple of strokes to push you over the edge.

The only thing you see before you have to close your eyes is Ms. Im on her knees, eyes closed and lips firmly pressed together, waiting for you to shower her with your cum. Your orgasm hits harder than ever before. You almost lose your balance. You feel your built up load leave your body.

When you finally manage to open your eyes, you look down at a cum covered Ms. Im. Her lips and nose got hit with the most of your semen, while her closed eyes and one cheek got some of it as well.

You let out a deep breath, too tired, too baffled to say anything.

Then the klick of the door lock echoes in your head.

-------------------

Hi everyone!

This is chapter number 50! I can't believe I actually wrote this many colour chapters already. And I keep getting more and more requests. My list of chapters that I am going to write has already surpassed the 150 mark. So stay tuned for the next chapters!

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #snsd yoona #snsd smut #snsd #yoona girls generation #girls generation smut #girls generation #yoona smut #lim yoona #im yoona #yoona

285 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 2 days ago

Text

Declassified [12] - Pressure

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves, you are so amazing🩷 I hope you like this chapter as well! 🥰 And please let me know what you think! 🩷

Pairing: Congressman!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary: Having a high pressure job has its consequences.

Warnings: Explicit language, panic attacks.

Word Count: 4.9k

Series Masterlist

The news of the breakup spread like wildfire.

To be honest, you hadn’t expected anything different. This had to be one of the rare times that Caleb hated being in PR because even you could tell that he was working way too hard.

And of course, your name had been brought up multiple times, but so far there wasn’t anything actually threatening thanks to Bucky and Hazel having attended the gala together right before they broke up.

“Mom, how did you know dad was the one?”

Your mother looked up from the bowl she was mixing the cake mixture in, then let out a laugh.

“What brought this on?”

“Just curious.” You dangled your legs from the high stool and sipped your coffee before putting the mug on the kitchen island. “Also, I would like to ask again, why are we in the kitchen? You don’t cook.”

“I’m baking.”

“You don’t bake either.”

“Well, one of the girls in my spiritual retreat said it would be a good bonding practice between mothers and daughters.”

You pulled your brows together.

“I guess today is good as any to start,” you murmured. “Fine, okay. We’re bonding, see? Tell me how you knew, other than the fact that he dazzled you with money.”

“Oh I didn’t care about the money.”

You tilted your head. “Uh, are you sure? I mean no offense obviously, but I always assumed money played a part. Safety and all that.”

“I did feel safe with him but that had nothing to do with the money.”

“So you were actually in love with him.”

“I was and I am.”

You made a face. “Oh come on, that I don’t buy. You can be honest, there’s no way you’re still in love with him.”

“Why not?”

You let out a laugh. “Because he’s evil?”

She rolled her eyes and started pouring the mixture into the cupcake tray. “He’s not evil, honey.”

“Well…” You cleared your throat. “I mean he has been bribing and extorting politicians for decades so that things work the way he wants them to work. That’s like, textbook bad. Disney movie bad.”

“Funny, I heard a lot of people say Bucky Barnes is a bad man, but you seem very eager to defend him.”

“That has nothing to do with—okay, let’s never ever put Bucky in the same category with dad ever again,” you said with a laugh. “It’s kind of like lumping The Night King and Jon Snow together.”

“I didn’t watch that show.”

“They’re like complete opposites.” You took another sip of your coffee. “Let me put it this way; Bucky would sacrifice his own life to save someone, dad would sacrifice the whole world to save himself.”

“And you, and me.”

You made a noise of disagreement.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” you said. “You yes. Me, doubtful.”

“He does love you, you know.”

“No he doesn’t.” You shrugged your shoulders. “And I don’t mind, really.”

“He does,” your mother insisted. “It’s just that, you’re both very stubborn and don’t know how to communicate.”

“That and our political stances and our principles and our goals are very different.”

“So what?” she asked as if it was just trivial, and you scoffed a laugh.

“You seriously don’t mind what he does?” you asked. “All those people he hurt? All the corruption?”

“I’m not interested in what he does at work. I’m interested in what kind of a man he is with us, his family.”

You grimaced. “That’s not how it works, mom.”

“It’s how it works with me.”

You rubbed at your eyes, heaving a sigh. “I guess this just proves it.”

“Proves what?”

“I’ve always thought that…” you trailed off. “I’ve always thought you and him were just meant to be together, but I wasn’t supposed to be in the picture.”

“Never say that!” She gasped. “We love you!”

“That’s not it,” you said with a weak smile. “No, you guys make sense together, in some very weird and unhealthy way. But I don’t, you know what I mean?”

“That’s so not true,” she said, putting pieces of chocolate into the batter in the pan. “And as I’ve said, your father loves you and me. What he does at work doesn’t matter.”

“It actually does,” you said. “You might be able to pick and choose, but I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

“Is that why you broke up with Max?”

“That dickhead voted for the opposition.”

She turned to you. “Please tell me you didn’t break up with him over that.”

“See? It doesn’t matter to you,” you said. “But it matters to me. And hey, it’s a good thing I dumped him, apparently he was cheating on me anyway.”

Her jaw dropped and she reached out to squeeze your hand. “Aw I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, I don’t care,” you said. “I mastered the art of detachment thanks to the revolving door of nannies you guys kept changing when I was little, so it’s okay.”

“Well, we just didn’t know who was the best for you.”

You bit at your lip to hold back your retort.

“How’s everything at work?” she asked. “Are those rumors still going on?”

“Well, to some extent but no picture or anything,” you said. “Just whispers.”

“And you like him?”

“Professionally, yes.”

Bullshit.

It was a good thing that your mother hardly ever spent time with you, she didn’t know how to read you.

The truth was that every day your feelings for Bucky were getting deeper. You knew that Hazel was right, you knew the risks but somehow, when you thought about him kissing you…

Your brain just refused to be logical.

Granted that didn’t mean you were going to throw all the caution to the wind, but you were wondering if something was wrong with you if that didn’t intimidate you as much as it was supposed to.

“A lot of my friends think he’s too handsome to be in politics.” Her voice pulled you out of your thoughts. “And they have a lot of questions.”

“About him?”

She hummed and walked to the oven to take a look at it. “Which button do I turn?”

You jumped from the stool to turn the button. “This one.”

“Aw thank you,” she said as she put the tray in, then closed it and turned to you. “So what’s he like?”

You took your seat again. “In politics?”

“In his daily life. Why did he and that girl break up?”

You cleared your throat. “Um, difference in opinions.”

“On what?”

“No idea, that’s what I’ve been told.”

She hummed, sitting down as well. “And you guys are close?”

“Professionally.”

“But you consider him a friend as well?” she asked. “I don’t know many people who are friends with their boss.”

“You don’t know many people with a boss.”

“Fair,” she admitted. “But that’s irrelevant. Tell me more about him, we’re all curious. Is he nice?”

“Oh absolutely.”

“To you? Even with all these rumors?”

You couldn’t help but smile, then nodded your head.

“He um…” you trailed off, biting your lip. “He’s amazing, mom. I know a lot of people think there are still traces of the Winter Soldier in him, but it’s not like that at all. He’s the sweetest, I’d trust him with my life. He even—”

You stopped yourself and your mother leaned in, curiosity shining in her eyes. “What?”

“He got Blinky back for me.”

She blinked a couple of times in confusion. “Who’s Blinky?”

Of course.

You hesitated for a second before you forced yourself to smile and shook your head.

“It’s not important,” you mumbled. “Anyways, enough about me, how was your retreat?”

The next day, you didn’t even have the time to go to lunch. You had to work on the draft Bucky had asked you to, and of course you had volunteered to go over the revisions Lucas had sent you just so that you could impress Congresswoman Gray, and your phone kept buzzing with emails every two minutes.

And for some reason, everything was louder today.

You took a deep breath, willing your heartbeat to calm down as you clenched and unclenched your hands, staring at the screen before you deleted the last line, and added a new one.

“Please don’t tell me we’re back to skipping lunch for work.”

Your fingers froze over the keyboard before you looked over your shoulder to see Bucky watching you, leaning against the doorframe.

“I had a protein bar and like two cups of red eye, I’m fine.”

His worried gaze raked over you, making your heartbeat even faster.

“I thought we had a deal.”

“I’ll eat when I’m done with this.” You nodded at the screen and he came to lean against your desk, making you bite back a smile.

“Birdie.”

You heaved a dramatic sigh at his teasing tone and looked up at him. “Hm?”

“Let’s have lunch.”

“You literally came back from lunch.”

“I can eat again.” He started tilting the screen of your laptop down but you batted his hand away, then fixed the screen again. “It’s a metabolism thing.”

“Super soldier metabolism?”

“Mm hm.”

“Good for you, I’m too busy,” you said. “I already spent enough time doing nothing with my mom yesterday when I was supposed to go over this, so…”

“You were with your mom?” he asked. “How did that go?”

“Dad wasn’t home so it was fine. Ish.”

“Fine-ish?”

“My mom doesn’t really know much about me but the parts she knows, she loves to dismiss,” you said. “They make a terrific couple with my dad, terrible parents though.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you said. “Without them, my old therapist wouldn’t have been able to buy her second Ferrari, so I guess it wasn’t a total disaster.”

“And you can tell me all about it while we’re having lunch.”

You turned to your laptop. “Take a powder, Barnes.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the clear confusion on his face but it turned into an amused smile, a chuckle escaping his lips.

“How did you…?”

“Hey, I could have an extensive vocabulary.” You grinned at him. “You don’t know my lexicon.”

“Right. Why do I feel like you googled 40s slang?”

“I once saw you google if lavender is edible, so how about we stop pointing fingers?” you asked and he shook his head vigorously.

“In my defense, Kelsey got me a lavender latte and insisted I had to try it.”

“And what did you think? Your assistant was trying to poison you?”

He shot you a look as if you were asking him a question with a very obvious answer. “It’s Kelsey.”

You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders.

“Fair enough,” you said. “But come on, she—”

You stopped talking when your phone started buzzing, making both you and Bucky turn your glances to the screen, and you both frowned at the same time.

“He’s still calling you?” Bucky asked and held out his hand for you to give him the phone, but you shook your head.

“I’ll handle him,” you said and answered the phone. “Max, go fu—”

“Wait wait, don’t hang up,” he cut you off. “I swear, this will be very civil and you’re gonna want to listen to what I have to say.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair while Bucky kept his eyes on you.

“What?” you asked crossly and he took a deep breath.

“I saw that piece about you and Barnes.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“A journalist contacted me,” he said in a rush. “He wanted to know whether there was anything going on between you and him while we were still dating.”

Your stomach dropped, your eyes snapping up to Bucky before you gritted your teeth.

“And let me guess,” you said. “You told him you’d think about it and now you’re calling me to ask for something.”

“No actually,” he said. “I told him we broke up because I cheated on you, because you put your career over our relationship, the very same career you wouldn’t risk for anyone much less your boss.”

You pulled back slightly. “…What?”

“I gathered ambitious bitch sounded better than greedy slut. Not that you’re either of those but you know, the guy was an asshole.”

You let out a surprised laugh.

“You’re telling me you had the perfect opportunity to fuck with me and you didn’t take it?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not asking for anything in return?”

“No, I just wanted to let you know,” he said. “If they called me, it means they’re working on a piece.”

You frowned, drumming your fingernails on the desk.

“And why would you do this without asking for anything in return?”

He fell quiet for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“Tessa said she’d leave me if I didn’t go to therapy,” he said. “And my therapist made me realize it wasn’t cool, what I did. What with keeping Blinky and stuff.”

“By ‘stuff’ you mean cheating on me, or the ultimatum or going behind my back at voting?” you asked and he took a deep breath.

“Yeah. Sorry about all that.”

As much as you wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, you figured this was at least just a little progress.

Very little, but either way.

“Well, what do you know?” you muttered. “I mean you’re still an asshole, that goes without saying but I appreciate the heads up.”

“My therapist says I have um… he says I am scared of emotional intimacy. That’s why I cheated on you, he says.”

“Yeah Max, because he can’t say you’re an asshole. You’re paying him.”

“I guess.” He snorted a laugh. “How’s DC?”

“Full of people who’d love to step on your back for their own gain. I haven’t slept in two days.”

Bucky shot you a disapproving look but you waved a hand in the air.

“So you’re having the time of your life?”

“Something like that.”

“That’s good—” He started but you heard another voice coming from the other line, probably his assistant. “I uh, sorry, I gotta go. Work thing.”

“I gathered,” you replied. “It’s almost five minutes.”

“…Yeah, that wasn’t cool either,” he said. “Also sorry about that.”

“Listen, how about I send you a list of things you should be sorry for and we can get all of them out the way?”

He let out a chuckle. “That’d make therapy so much easier. Can I call or email you to apologize then?”

“Call me and I’ll see if I’m in the forgiving mood,” you said and hung up, then looked up at Bucky.

“So, great news,” you said. “A journalist asked Max if you and I had an affair while I was with him, but he said no.”

“And he didn’t ask for anything in return?”

“He’s doing therapy, as it turns out,” you said. “My belief in psychology has been renewed because honestly, if they can make Max apologize…”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a smile and you bounced your leg, biting inside your cheek.

“We need to find who this journalist is.”

“I will.” His voice was completely calm. “And I’ll take care of it.”

“You can’t threaten him.”

“If he didn’t want me to threaten him, he shouldn’t have dragged you into whatever nonsense he’s working on,” he said, making your heart skip a beat. “That’s just not how it works.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “I thought I was the one protecting you.”

He winked at you. “It’s a two-way street.”

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he turned his head to look at the approaching footsteps before Caleb appeared at the door and let out a groan.

“I’m like two seconds away from assigning a chaperone to you like we’re in Georgian era,” he said. “Bucky, you might be familiar with that.”

“Wrong century, Caleb.”

“Well, how about we don’t start another fire when I’ve just extinguished the other one?”

You held up your hands and turned your attention to the screen, your cheeks burning and Bucky heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the desk.

“Make her eat something.”

“I will but did you have the chance to think about what I said?”

You looked between them. “What did you say?”

“Caleb thinks we all should have a barbeque at my new place,” Bucky said. “Something something PR.”

“It would show you’re still relatable and that you’re doing fine after the breakup.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” you mused. “I haven’t been to your new place yet, and I missed Alpine.”

“And the team would love it,” Caleb added and Bucky’s gaze stopped on you as if he was torn between ideas, then cleared his throat.

“Yeah, whatever,” he told Caleb who pumped his fist in the air in victory. “Just let me know when.”

“Will do!”

“And I’m not locking Alpine in the room,” he said as he walked into his office. “She gives me an attitude for days when I do that.”

Caleb approached you to plop down on the chair next to your desk.

“Thanks for convincing him.”

“I barely said anything.”

“Well, I’ve been begging him for a week and one word from you…” he trailed off and you shook your head, then turned to him.

“Caleb.”

“Hm?”

“There’s something you need to know as Bucky’s communications director.”

His grin wiped off his face in a second. “What?”

“There’s a journalist,” you said. “And apparently he’s been asking questions about me and Bucky.”

Caleb ran a hand over his face, cussing under his breath.

“Of course,” he said and pulled out his phone. “It was getting a bit too peaceful today, so why not? Be right back.”

You watched him walk out of the office and pressed your hands on your eyes before you dropped them, straightening your back.

“It’s fine,” you murmured to yourself as you turned your attention back to the screen. “It’s totally fine.”

As your anxiety would show you; it was not, in fact, fine.

You had spent the whole day working, and now almost everyone had left but Kelsey and Bucky, both of whom were in a meeting with Congressman Murray.

And you. Working overtime.

It was already dark out, and the only thing illuminating the office was your laptop screen. You could feel the migraine slowly making its way to your temples. For the whole day, your chest hadn’t stopped feeling tight, like you couldn’t get enough air into your lungs especially after Max had told you about the journalist. In addition to all that, the work you had to cover was getting bigger and bigger, you still had one hundred pages to go over, and to make the necessary edits.

In other news, you might have bitten more than you could chew.

You typed away at the keyboard, forcing yourself to hum a melody in hopes of calming yourself down before you got up from your chair to make your way to Bucky’s office. You grabbed the file from his desk and went back to your desk, but before you could sit down, your phone buzzed on the desk, the screen lighting up.

From: Dad

We need to talk about the journalist.

And just like that, your line of sight grew narrow, darkness swallowing everything else other than the phone.

To your terror, you could feel the familiar tingling spreading over your face as your throat tightened, the breath you were taking getting stuck there. A fire burned through your chest, twisting your heart harder and harder while it tried to escape from your ribcage. You could feel your whole body beginning to shake, the floor getting wobbly underneath your feet like quicksand as you took a step back, grasping at your throat with one hand.

You’re not dying.

It’s a panic attack, you’re not dying.

Except that you were sinking.

You held onto the desk with one hand and managed to crouch down to sit on the floor as the room started spinning, your heart pounding in your ears. Nausea crashed down on you while you tried to get enough air in your lungs, your other hand balling up into fist tight enough to cramp.

You’re not dying.

You couldn’t even tell if it was tears or cold sweat running down your face; it was probably both. Your hand on your throat slipped down to your chest to press on it in hopes of soothing the pain there while you forced yourself to take another breath.

You’re not dying.

You see a laptop, you see a chair, you see a—

You hadn’t even heard Bucky stepping into the office before he rushed to you, his hands grasping your upper arms, almost frantically checking you for injuries like he wanted to see if you were bleeding.

“Birdie?”

“Not dying,” you managed to gasp out. “Panic attack.”

That made him stop only for a moment, a look of absolute relief crossing his face and he let out a breath.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re breathing very fast right now, can you breathe with me?”

You nodded your head, taking a shaky breath at the same time as him, then exhaled. For almost a minute, you followed his lead and once you weren’t breathing as fast, he gave you a small smile.

“There you go,” he said. “Five things you can see?”

That made your eyes snap to his as you took another breath. “How do you—?”

“Five things,” he said and you exhaled.

“Laptop,” you rasped out. “Chair. Papers. Desk. My fox figure on my desk.”

“Four things you can hear.”

You tried to focus, pulling your brows together.

“Your voice,” you said. “Footsteps from the hallway. AC. Um…”

“One more.”

“The laptop running,” you said, pressing your palm on the floor. “And three things I can feel are…the marble floor, and sweat dripping down the back of my neck, which is fucking disgusting—”

“Birdie, focus.”

“And um, the wind. From the AC.”

“And two things you can—”

“Smell. Your cologne and paper. I just printed a bunch of stuff.”

“And one thing you can taste?”

“Blood. I bit my tongue too hard.”

His eyes searched your face and you let out another shaky breath, exhaustion creeping up on you as you leaned your head back to the wall. Bucky hesitated for a second before he sat beside you, leaning back against the wall.

“How do you know grounding techniques?” you asked after a pause and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Mandatory therapy.”

“Ah,” you said, fixing your eyes on the ceiling. “Interesting.”

“And I’m guessing this is not your first panic attack?” he asked, making you scoff a laugh.

“Nope,” you said. “Been having them since I was like twelve.”

Bucky’s brows pulled into a frown. “Twelve?”

“Yup,” you said. “As it turns out, if you put too much pressure on a kid and yell at them whenever they didn’t meet the expectations, their brain gets messed up. Who would’ve known?”

“I’m going to kill your father.”

“You can’t,” you said. “If he’s dead, who’s gonna go around crossroads to make deals for people’s souls?”

“Birdie.”

“I’m fine,” you said even if your arms felt way too heavy when you raised your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead. “This happens, no big deal.”

“How often?”

“Not regular,” you said. “Sometimes. But let me tell you, I would not last a day back in the 1940s. I saw those documentaries, my husband would send me off to an asylum and they’d try to lobotomize—”

“I’m giving you time off.”

“Tough shit, I’m not taking it.”

He gave you a look. “I’ll change the locks to the office.”

“I’ll work in the hallway.”

He ran a hand over his face as if he was straining his mind to come up with a solution and you wiggled your brows despite exhaustion.

“Sorry. I guess you shouldn’t have hired me, huh?”

“If I hadn’t hired you, neither of us would be here,” he said and thought for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t be, at least. You would have probably made someone else win so you’d be here.”

“I wouldn’t have worked for someone else,” you murmured and he licked his lips.

“Please take some time off.”

“Nope.”

“You either take some time off, or I’m hiring someone to help you out with the workload.”

Your eyes widened. “Bucky, no.”

“Bucky yes.”

“I don’t trust anyone else with what I do,” you said. “They’re gonna miss something, some detail and then I’ll have to go over what they did anyway.”

“Either vacation, or this,” he said, his voice signaling this was not open to discussion. “You’re not leaving me with many options here.”

“There is an option!” you exclaimed. “The system we have works.”

“It obviously doesn’t if you haven’t slept in two days and the workload is triggering a panic attack.”

“It didn’t though!” you insisted. “It’s a coincidence, not a chain of events.”

“I’m not risking it.”

You huffed out, slipping a little on the floor and crossing your arms while Bucky’s lips twitched into a fond smile.

“You’re pouting.”

“I’m not pouting, I’m contemplating,” you corrected him and gritted your teeth, then rolled your eyes. “Fine. I’ll give the okay though, whoever you hire. I need to make sure they can handle this whole thing.”

“Didn’t think otherwise.”

You let out a noise of displeasure, exhaustion still heavy on your whole body and you leaned your head on his shoulder with a tired sigh. He dipped his head to nuzzle into your hair, making your stomach do a happy flip and you played with the bracelet around your wrist.

“Bucky?”

He hummed into your hair.

“How did it go with Murray?”

He raised his lips from your hair so that you could hear him; “We’re not talking about work right now.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“Fine,” you said with a pout. “How are you handling the breakup?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat.

“I’m fine.”

You lifted your head and sat up straighter to look up at him better.

“Are you?” you insisted. “For real? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you weren’t. I mean no offense but Hazel is kind of perfect.”

“She is,” Bucky said immediately. “She really is, but I don’t think—uh, I don’t think I was the right person for her.

Your heart sped up again but this time instead of dread, all you could feel was excitement rushing through your veins.

“…Oh,” you managed to say. “Why not?”

That made him fall quiet for a moment, his gaze slipping down to your lips before it snapped up to your eyes again. You couldn’t help but notice his throat bobbed nervously, and he took a deep breath as if he was trying to gather up courage.

Which was insane.

You had seen him throw himself in danger over and over again without so much as a second of hesitation.

“Because,” he started, his voice soft, “Birdie, I—”

“Hello?” Kelsey’s voice carried out from the doorway, snapping both of you out of your daze. “Guys?”

You loved Kelsey but you could swear that the urge to scream at her was way too strong.

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment as if he shared the sentiment, then opened them again, his jaw tightening. You sat up straighter and raised your hand from beside the desk.

“Over here, Kels.”

“What the fuck are you two doing on the floor?” Kelsey asked as she made her way to you and you exchanged glances, then turned to her.

“I…we—uh—”

“I think better when I’m sitting on the floor,” Bucky cut you off and Kelsey tilted her head.

“What?”

“Yeah, it’s a habit from the 1940s.”

Kelsey looked from him to you while Bucky stood up, then offered his hand for you to take it, a warmth spreading from your hand to your arm. You were still exhausted, but you looked up at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. Bucky squeezed your hand in an assuring manner, and you turned to Kelsey.

“Are we going home?”

“Sure, let’s.”

“Call me when you get home?” Bucky murmured and you nodded your head, giving him a small smile, then grabbed your purse off the desk and followed Kelsey out of the office.

“Please don’t tell me you two were having sex on the office floor.”

You let out a laugh, then shook your head.

“We were talking about his ex,” you said and cracked your neck, making a face. “And oh, before I forget, Caleb says we’ll have a barbeque at Bucky’s place this Saturday.”

“At Bucky’s place?” she asked. “All of us?”

“Mm hm, the whole team and I think Sam and Sarah will come too.”

Kelsey grinned at you.

“Just let me know if you happen to find yourself in his bedroom and need me to distract others,” she joked. “During the house tour, that is.”

You pushed at her arm gently.

“There’s gonna be people there,” you reminded her. “Lots of people. Hypothetically, even if Bucky liked me like that—”

“Did they raise you in a convent?”

“That would still be impossible,” you said as if she didn’t interrupt you. “Which by the way, he doesn’t.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t even think he finds me hot, to be honest with you,” you said. “It’s like Hazel said. He entertains my crush, that’s it.”

Kelsey threw her head back.

“You are so oblivious,” she groaned. “This barbecue—”

“Will be just a barbecue,” you said. “Some PR thing, that’s it. I assure you.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #congressman barnes #congressman bucky #thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#congressman bucky barnes #congressman!bucky #congressman!bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic

328 notes · View notes

rcmclachlan · 2 days ago

Text

tease tidbit tuesday

Tagged by @firehose118, @devirnis, and @ambernotember. Thanks, y'all 😘

Here's some more from the s3 alternate meeting au I'm working on.

Buck squints, because, "Wait, don't I know you?"

The guy, who looks like he competes in Steinstossen on the weekends, gives Buck a familiar smile—the same one he gave Buck a few years ago.

A four-alarm grease fire had consumed half an apartment building after someone supposedly tried to put it out by throwing a pot of water on it, and at least four stations showed up to beat it into submission. This guy had been climbing down one of the ladders with what must have been twenty kids on his back, and as he passed the window of the room Buck was in the middle of clearing, he smiled and waved at Buck through the glass like it was just another day at the beach.

"Hey, Buckley! How's the leg treating you, man? We were gonna send you flowers, but your buddy Chimney said you were a real weirdo so we sent that big box of whack-ass candy instead."

Amongst the explosion of flowers and wreathes and cards he'd gotten from people whose names he didn't know, there'd been a big box full of the strangest candy he'd ever seen: lollipops with ants frozen in the center, mints that tasted like roadkill, Carolina Reaper cotton candy, mac and cheese gummies, and chocolates shaped like dicks. He, Chim, Eddie, and Hen had laughed themselves to tears trying all of them one afternoon. Even Bobby couldn't deny the cactus candy was interesting.

Tied to one of the chocolate dicks—"cocklates," Chim cackled—had been a short note.

The bacon and cheddar cricket crunchies will get you back on your feet in no time. Get well soon! — Station 217

Buck bursts out laughing. "'Whack-ass' is right. Hey, Meyers, it's been ages. I-I didn't realize all of you were LAFD."

"Oh shit," one of them—a woman with broad shoulders and the most incredible mop of spiral curls he's ever seen—gasps. "You're the bomb guy! The one the engine fell on! I heard you were caught down the pier when the tsunami hit, too. I can't believe you're even walking around after all that. Don't even tell me you're back to work already."

"Y-Yeah," Buck says, eyes glued to a patch of the table top where the sealant is chipping away. "It's been an, uh, interesting year."

Tommy nudges one of his teammates further down the booth and then steps back so Buck can slide in. It takes every ounce of energy to actually do it, because even though he knows this woman means well, it feels like she's standing before a jury of his peers and listing all the reasons why he shouldn't don his turnouts again.

In all honesty, he should just call Chase and tell him to withdraw the suit wholesale. If a complete stranger thinks Buck shouldn't be back, then Bobby's definitely never going to budge on it. Eddie's never going to return his calls. Hen's never going to look him in the eye again. The days of daring Chimney to try a bacon and cheddar cricket are over. The 118's bay doors will never open to let him in again.

Thankfully, the din of the bar is so loud that no one can hear him sniffle as he glances toward the bar. Maybe they're hiring.

"Dude," one of the others chimes in. "I heard you were suing the department. I didn't know you could even do that. Maybe I can sue Cap for banning Mittens from the station, because that's just cruel and unusual. She gets lonely when I'm on shift."

"You bring your fucking snake to the hangar one more time, Nico, and I'll garrote you with it," the curly-haired woman snaps, then turns interested eyes on Buck. "But, are you? Taking the department to court, I mean."

Before Buck can excuse himself to the bathroom where he can have a good cry and then drown himself in a toilet, Tommy slides into the booth next to him.

"Actually, Jacinda, I can answer that one: none of your damn business," Tommy says sunnily. Without missing a beat, he reaches across the table to smack the guy with the snake upside the head when he opens his mouth. "Besides, I've got a better question: what's the deal with your kid, Benowitz? Did he finally ask what's-her-name to prom or what?"

Benowitz sighs, takes a long-suffering sip of his beer, and begins what sounds like a new chapter in an ongoing saga of his son Steven, who's been working on the world's greatest-slash-worst promposal for the last two months with no end in sight. Apparently trained doves are involved, and so is spcaLA.

Swallowing hard around the burr in his throat, Buck nudges Tommy's foot in gratitude.

Tommy nods at whatever Benowitz is saying, then nudges back.

No pressure tags: everyone who tagged me, plus @screamlet, @setmeatopthepyre, @beanarie, @geddyqueer, @freneticfloetry, @apollabarnes, @station18908, and @leashybebes

#bucktommy #lawsuit arc au #tease tidbit tuesday

186 notes · View notes

yan-randomfandom · 17 hours ago

Note

OKAYS GREAT i was thinking of like plat yan saja boys x overworked teen reader, reader is a highschool student thats overwhelmed by schoolwork so when they're amongst the crowd of the saja boys performing soda pop they really couldnt care less and just walked away(⁠◔⁠‿⁠◔⁠)

Platonic!Saja Boys x GN!Teen!Reader

a/n; stranger danger is ignored here, PLS!!!! do not copy what the reader does here

— 🫧

"Huh, what?" you mumble, eyes blinking separately in weariness. "What are you talking about?"

Are you that exhausted to start hallucinating about the men you saw performing earlier in the day? The leader, Juni or whatever his name was, stands in front of you with a cryptic smile. Why the fuck were they talking to you? You can't do this right now.

"Uh," he shifts the pen and paper in his hands. "Constructive criticism, please? You're part of our age range, but you don't seem to be interested. Why is that?"

You stare. "I can't do this right now."

Turning around, you plan to walk nonstop, but the other boys block your path. You look at them, bamboozled.

"Did you guys," you sigh, rubbing your eyes, half-expecting them to disappear once you open them again, "follow me all the way here for feedback? Don't you have a manager for that? Come on, dudes."

Much to your dismay, they still existed after you open your eyes.

"I mean, I worked so hard for this, I—" Juni rambles behind you, but you really could care less.

"Type shit. Not everyone is going to like you," you turn your head slightly to meet his eyes. "And unless you can do my homework for me, then I won't do any survey."

You face the rest of the band, using your arms to gently push them away. They let themselves be pushed; thank goodness you don't have to call the cops.

"We—We'll do it!"

You pause. "What?"

"Your homework! And then you'll give us your thoughts, right?"

You turn around with an evil smile.

— 📒

You haven't felt this relaxed in years.

Mystery gives you the last of the last, and you give him a happy grin. A smile of his grows at the sight.

"Thanks, Mist!" you chuckle, taking a peek at his work. It's not the prettiest handwriting, but the answers seem legit. "Good job!"

You grab a lollipop, a hairbrush, and a dumbbell, giving them respectively to Baby, Romance, and Abby.

Juni comes from around the corner. "So when you say this, then it means that. Blah blah blah, bloo bloo."

"Yeah sure whatever Juni," you shrug, not really listening. "Hey, aren't you guys gonna leave yet? You're lucky my parents are on a vacation."

They all stare at you.

"...Guys?"

They don't answer.

"Are you not... going to leave yet? Guys?"

They glance at each other.

"...Do I have to call the cops?"

— do u?

— also stranger danger!!!!! do NAWT let strangers into your house even if they're pretty, ESPECIALLY when they followed u home. DONT!!!!

#yandere kpop demon hunters #kpop demon hunters x reader #saja boys & reader #kpdh x reader #platonic #platonic yandere #x reader #saja boys x reader

400 notes · View notes

menlove · 2 days ago

Note

Hello! I saw your post about how you deeply believe that John and Paul had sex frequently, and honestly I'm on the fence on whether or not I believe that they did. I was wondering if there were any particular reasons as to why you believe this or if it was just a feeling lol.

there's fsdfasdadf a lot To Me that convinces me but i'm not sure how solid it is so i'd say it's Mostly a feeling/vibe but i'll work through my reasoning under the cut (separated into The Vibes and then actual shit they've said/done that makes me go uh. hm.)

disclaimer: obviously i can't know if they fucked. at the end of the day it truly does not have any impact on my life if they did or not. this is also solely getting into whether or not they fucked, not the rest of the crazy shit they had going on bc that would genuinely take a 1000 page novel. i'm also not getting into proof about either one of them having gay sex bc if we take them both at face value that answer is a resounding "no" and this isn't about proving their queerness

i will say first of all we know for a fact they jerked off together & had sex in the same bed so i'm gonna go ahead and count that as sex bc it's 2025 and queer people have made leaps and bounds away from considering penetrative sex the only kind of sex that exists. but i don't think they would've considered either of those things sex. but in my view? that was sex. does also mean they've had sex with the other quarrymen though #happypride

vibes

first of for me is their personalities/circumstances. i mean it's obviously all very nuanced and i never knew them so there's aspects to their personalities that we obviously aren't privy to. but they were both very sexual people with incredibly loose sexual boundaries, neither of whom really ever had (or at least expressed) religious hangups around sex, and who were Both at the like forefront of the whole changing culture of the 60s to become freer, looser, less repressed. obviously them being free with heterosexual sex doesn't automatically equate to them having the same feelings about homosexual sex, but it's a factor in the way i think about it anyway.

we already know they were loose with sex with Each Other as well. there's ofc the beat the meatles thing (group wanking with the quarrymen/early beatles) but there's also the fact that they'd all have sex in the same tiny ass room in hamburg & the fact that john and paul allegedly had a foursome with a couple of girls whose pictures they took back in liverpool (on the same bed). again, that doesn't Necessarily translate to "yeah they'd have gay sex" but it just sets up that they weren't really prudish about sex and they weren't shy about having sex around/near each other. there's ALSO a different version of the story john told to pete floating around somewhere (can't find it rn so don't quote me on this) where in addition to everything else he mentions it (as in letting brian jerk him off) not being different than what he does with his friends. which does also implicate everyone Else, not just paul, but it's interesting.

i just do Not think that john would've had the self restraint to not make a move on paul if he wanted to. and from Well Everything, we can tell that he wanted to. john wasn't someone who had a lot of self control & i don't think his relationship to paul being "too important" or anything like that would've stopped him either. and i think if he'd made a move & paul shot him down, we would have never heard the end of it and there would've never been the beatles in the first place bc i don't think john would've taken it well at all. on paul's end, i can't see him turning john down either. if they were already jerking off together, potentially jerking each other off, having sex in the same bed, etc, i don't think it's a stretch to say he wouldn't have shoved john off for going further. and again, if he had, there would've been a more dramatic reaction. which means either john Never made a move, or he did & paul went with it.

ofc there's the whole india theory but i do not buy into that even remotely and i'm not getting into why again but tl;dr i just don't think it would be in character for Either of them to have this big dramatic rejection of john's feelings and for john to wait and simmer in it for 2 years before breaking up the band. i think if anything like that happened he would've lost his goddamn mind immediately and the band wouldn't have made it beyond like two more months lmao

i can however see paul making a move and john shooting it down due to His Issues, but i don't really see any time period where that would've potentially happened yk like there's not enough there to speculate on that one. but i can see it more than the opposite

they were also on so, so many drugs. you take two people with loose sexual boundaries and you put them on uppers/alcohol/weed/lsd/coke and i truly think it's more unlikely that they didn't ever fuck. i think most anyone who regularly gets drunk/high has at least one story about making out with/fucking someone they shouldn't. oftentimes when you can't remember shit.

there's also the severe lack of personal space between them & just the way they watch each other. ofc there's a severe lack of space between All the beatles, but it's glaringly obvious and embarrassing when they're all 4 in the same space and the blowjob brothers are over there ass to dick while everyone else has a respectable friend distance.

i won't put a photo/gif dump here i'm sure we've all seen them but this is the single one i have to add bc genuinely what is their problem:

and the way paul stops and then looks over at john after noticing he's watching his ass? they're as subtle as a brick to the head lmfao

tl;dr on the vibes: it's a if you give a mouse a cookie situation to me. if john was attracted to paul (he was), he would've made a move -> if john made a move on paul, paul would've said yes -> if paul had said no, there would have been 0 way john would've just gone on like normal -> nothing ever blew up like that sooo -> i think they fucked (in our definition- idfk what they would count it as). throw in their drug use & lack of personal space................

actual shit w substance

i don't think unless john's diaries leak or paul slips in his old age that we're Ever going to get any kind of Actual confirmation about if they did or did not have a sexual relationship of any kind. BUT there are some things that make me go. well okay !

and a disclaimer i don't think this is the only way you can interpret these things and i'm well aware i look like this rn

i mean this so seriously when i say the thing that convinced me they did actually fuck was john's real love (real life) demo. we know he's talking about paul bc he says "was i just dreaming, or was it only yesterday? i used to hold you in my arms. and now a baby and another on the way la la la farm" and then the added fact from this post that the daily news from that same year around the time john would've made this demo has a page dedicated to linda & paul expecting a new baby and in the same paper it's talking about cruises. which in the demo he says "picked up the paper, read the daily news, nothing doing anyway, same old bs, doot doot doot doot cruise." so we've got him singing about someone he used to hold in his arms that now has another baby on the way on a farm, which he found out about reading the daily news that mentioned cruises. when there was a paper from that day from the daily news announcing that linda & paul were expecting and talking about cruises. so i can say with confidence that he's talking about paul there. unless he was just wildly in love with linda lmfao. and of course "i used to hold you in my arms" doesn't exactly translate to "i fucked you" but like......????? there's really not much else you can infer from that. the rest of it is true to reality, so why would he embellish that bit with something he wished happened? why would he wished to have held him and then lost him anyway? and like it'd just be a weird thing to say about a platonic friend. i can't exactly imagine them just platonically laying around cuddling. i mean sure, maybe, but come on.

speaking of john's demos, there's also his weird paris shit (ignore that title lmfao. it is definitely a real demo & i actually accidentally own it on vinyl- it was one that got leaked during the lost lennon tapes). in it, he's singing to "my pau pau" about his little prod (lmfao) at a cafe on the left bank (hysterically also the title of a wings song ABOUT john and paul's trip to paris). i mean does that mean they fucked? maybe not. but also fucking bizarre to refer to your friend as "my pau pau" and start talking about his little dick while calling him my cheri..... like. again. come on.

speaking of paris there's also the whole skywriting by word of mouth thing. this one's the loosest bc it's fictional, but john based a lot of the sexual stories in skywriting by word of mouth on his own sexual exploits. also realizing for some reason i didn't put this in the original post, but leading up to the paris bit, it describes the man as a journalist who's in the middle of writing a play. but tl;dr on that link: john wrote a short story full of references to gay sex/gay culture about a man leaving writing a play to meet up with his lover in paris where they stay at the george v and fuck to god only knows. in 1966, john left filming how i won the war to meet up with paul in paris and they stayed at the george v. that's the same year pet sounds came out & paul got obsessed with god only knows as well. now this one could Also be taking the details of a very platonic meetup (paul did have one of his girlfriends, maggie mcgivern, with him) and adding a sexual connotation to them retroactively, but....................

i'm also throwing this paul song into the mix bc .....????? sure man. i'll also throw let me roll it into that category bc of the "he gave me loving in the palm of my hand" thing like okay man. i'm sure he did. and best friend/call me back again are just self explanatory.

this one is EXTREMELY loose and i don't believe 99% of them but there Are a ton of rumors/blind items if you go digging around about them kind of openly fucking during the 60s (as well as paul & linda having threesomes with men lmao). not linking those bc i wouldn't count them as even a remotely reliable source but they exist and all say just about the same thing

am i 100% certain they fucked? i mean no. but it just seems way less likely to me that they didn't. and i've seen historical narratives built on less so i'm gonna go on w my interpretation that they did fuck nasty in whatever way

#mclennon

191 notes · View notes

thecutestmonkeygirl · 3 days ago

Text

She shrugged again. "That or him holding me and us talking and figuring out that we actually really liked each other and he wasn't just being nice because Echo said so." she laughed.

"I think he already has one of those down there with my armor all hung up and posters and even a body pillow." she huffed a laugh. "It's interesting to see him and know he wasn't blowing smoke when he called himself a 'fan'. " she nearly giggled. "That tall, dark and sometimes gloomy man also collects my posters and body pillows as well as some of my older things." she rolled her eyes playfully at this. "I can't imagine him sleeping with that body pillow. I think he just has it to say he has one." He got serious quickly and she did as well, nodding at his statement. "Coyote already loves me that much. I never have to doubt it. He will tell me how much he loves me in every language he knows till I feel secure in it. I donno how I got so damn lucky."

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

6K notes · View notes

scannainscanrula · 2 days ago

Text

shadowed corners

remmick x reader (18+ mdni)

You're a romance author suffering from insomnia, writer's block, and strange nightmares. Your publisher offers to send you to Maine for a short sabbatical to clear your head. It's a quaint town with charming locals, and a mysterious man running the lighthouse that nobody seems to know much about... [part two here]

author's note: well well here we are again. this is MUCH longer than my other fic and i intend to have at least 3(?) chapters for it, so strap in girlies. no smut just yet yous have to earn it first by sitting through all this fucking exposition. grma enjoy! warnings: horror elements, discussion of animal death, discussion of shark attacks, sexual themes

You sit at your desk in front of an empty document, the cursor blinking at you mockingly. Your eyes are tired and your head feels heavy, and the last time you fell asleep at your desk you had drooled on your keyboard, and you really don’t want to find a place to get it fixed.

“An old-school computer always helps me when I have writer’s block,” one of your colleagues had told you at a cocktail party when you lamented about your publisher’s insistence on a new concept.

You had a very embarrassing and uncomfortably visible breakdown in her windows-only corner office. You began word-vomiting all over her sleek carbon fibre desk about your writer’s block and insomnia– leaving out the extra embarrassing detail of your recurring sexy nightmares– and she had patted your back and attempted to comfort you with corporate jargon. When the tears started she lowered some blinds and lowered her voice, sitting against the edge of the desk in front of her.

“Look, kid. You’re a hell of a writer, okay? Nothing sells like your stuff. I mean, I don’t get it, but the girls love this… creepy vampire stalker shit.”

Dark romance, you want to correct her, but it’s futile after four years working together.

She sighed, crossing her arms.

“How about… I give you a company card and you go… rent on the coast somewhere for a few months? We have some contracts to draft because these streaming services are just chomping at the bit for rights to adapt. So you go pack your things and take a break. Get an Ambien prescription, fuck a fisherman, whatever you need to do.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll bankroll it.”

She taps her manicured acrylic nail on the cover of your most recent title, Shadowed Corners. It was a total and complete success, where your first two were mafia romances set in the same universe, SC was a dark romance with a vampire love interest stalking your adorable main character. You love red flags, and Milo was covered in them.

“You’re a money-printing machine, babe.”

So here you are, not relaxing, not on sleeping pills, and completely unfucked by any hot guys. You press your fingers to your temples and sigh, closing the pages and pushing the circular off button for the computer. You slide back and lean forward, stretching your creaky back. You miss your cozy little setup at home, your comfortable chair and the souped-up gamer style keyboard. You sacrificed comfort hoping it would make you work harder, but you think you’ll just finish this little sabbatical with more lower-back pain than usual.

You fill your water bottle with the filter in the fridge, admiring the stickers all over it. Among the logo of your publishing house and the ones about writing, you have fanart of your books and quotes from your own characters. Ones you’ve found at book fairs and second-hand stores as well as online. A handful were sent along with fanmail. Your laptop and idea notebook are covered too, because it drove you mad to know people liked your stuff enough to make art out of it.

You huff and trudge up the stairs, feeling exhausted and dreading the next day. You sit in your bed and look at the sticker of Milo with his signature phrase I’d like to see you stop me, babygirl.

You turn the bottle away from you as you open the bedside drawer. Inside of it are two options. A scent-proof bag that holds your pipe, grinder, and bud, a vape, and a few edibles. The other is a vibrator. You wonder what the point of this vacation was. You could get high and get off at home in the city. And at least there you could order munchies for delivery after you’d fucked yourself silly thinking about the made-up vampire in your head.

You just shut the drawer, rolling your eyes as you lay back.

Two hours later, you can’t sleep. You’re “jerking off your ego” as your friends would call it, looking through positive reviews of your last title. You know you have detractors, people who think your work is trash or anti-feminist. It’s a little trashy, but it’s just for fun. And you’ve had your share of shitty boyfriends like any girl your age, you know the difference between right and wrong. God forbid a girl wants a hot vampire to follow her home, you think.

You sit up and put your phone face down. You need fresh air. You need a walk. So, you bundle up and stick in headphones for a brisk, freezing, 7 PM wintertime mental health walk. The New England air isn’t just cold, it’s thick and wet with the marine layer from the ocean, which you’re a short walk away from. It’s not nice, but it does invigorate you as you follow the path from your little cottage down to the beach. It’s pretty private, tucked away in a little alcove– which you were warned not to enter when the tide is too high. You peek over to see it’s not. So you climb down and skirt around the rocks to walk on the main beach, which is empty. Obviously. The recently released audiobook of one of your peers’ newest titles plays in your ears, narrated by a sultry English man. You should have gone somewhere else for inspiration. You vaguely remember hearing someone at a book release party talk about how inspiring their trip to France was, and another person responded about their time in Ireland. You’ve mostly just met fishermen and townies, and none of these men had the Milo quality about them.

Milo was inspired by a stunning man you saw while at a nightclub in New York City. You were very, very drunk on espresso martinis, but you saw him and his adorable girlfriend– who also served as your muse for Annmarie, SC’s protagonist– at the bar together. His arm was around her waist in a way that was possessive but romantic, his hand rested over her tummy, and you saw his thumb rubbing circles into her skin lovingly.

“Oh my God, girl, are you seriously drooling? You are so drunk,” your friend had half-sighed, half-laughed as you wiped a little drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“We have got to get you some dick, queen,” another friend joked.

“I am perfectly fine being single,” you protested.

“Nuh-uh, I read that last book of yours. All work and no dick makes you fucking crazy. How did you come up with that shit anyway?”

“She’s totally sick in the head, that’s how.”

Your back straightens up as you think you hear a voice.

“Miss!”

You pause the book and turn around to see a man jogging behind you, holding something in his hands. You freeze with terror until you realise it’s your notebook he’s holding.

“You dropped this,” he says, handing it over. He stays a nice distance away from you.

He has some sort of Southern accent, not New England.

And he is very, very attractive. He wears a tight black t-shirt and black athletic shorts. His short hair is semi-dark, and probably reddish from the way it looks in the blue moonlight. He smiles politely at you, his dark eyes are hard to see. There’s a scruff of facial hair on him.

“Thanks.”

“Sorry, I… I woulda tapped your shoulder, but I was worried you’d sock me in the nose if I scared you.”

“I appreciate that.”

“Are you uh… you okay? It’s pretty dark out here.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just clearing my head.”

“Right.”

You take a breath and introduce yourself quickly.

“I’m Remmick,” he says.

“So, what are you doing out here, Remmick?”

“Well, I work at that lighthouse. Just takin’ a jog before I head up there.”

“Oh.”

Hot lighthouse worker. That could be a love interest.

“You on vacation? I think I’d remember your face if I’d seen it before.”

Charming lighthouse worker.

“I’m uh… on a sort of sabbatical.”

“You a doctor or something?”

“God, no. I’m a writer.”

“Yeah?”

The tone and timbre of that yeah have your head spinning.

“Books or what?”

You nod.

“What kind?”

You hesitate.

“Can I guess?”

“Go for it.”

He thinks for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he does, which makes you flush.

“Are they scary?”

“Parts of them are scary,” you admit.

You remembered researching for SC and finding out that a lot of people only have a little over one gallon of blood in their bodies. You felt lightheaded and queasy at the visual of a plastic gallon bottle full of blood.

“But they ain’t all scary, huh?”

“Nope.”

He eyes you and smirks.

“Are they dirty?”

You hesitate and suck in air through clenched teeth.

“Yeah. They’re pretty dirty.”

“You must make good money, huh?”

He chuckles and you shrug.

“I do alright.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Where’re you stayin’?”

You pause and he holds up his hands.

“That probably sounded creepy. I only meant… there’s some nice places, and there’s a Holiday Inn.”

“Well, it’s not the Holiday Inn.”

He looks at the watch on his hand.

“Shit. Well, I gotta get goin’.”

He says your name and your chest fills up with a weird feeling. Half-elation, half-dread.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You too. I’ll see you around,” you respond.

“Only if you keep walkin’ at night. Boats don’t need a lighthouse in the daytime,” he explains quickly, jogging off toward the beacon.

Hot lighthouse worker who’s charming and funny. Now that could work.

You go home and open the fridge. Time for boxed wine in a mug as you power-write for the next forty-five minutes until your hands cramp up.

You put the notebook down and pull out your favorite pen. You need certainty when you put book ideas down. You write in quick, messy bullet points, only getting down little ideas. You heard that coastal New England towns are famous for gruesome murder. Your instincts take you to the mafia but one glance at your water bottle has you thinking otherwise. SC was such a success, and you’re the vampire girl now.

So you begin to pen the vague outline of a dark romance with a steamy, stalkery vampire lighthouse worker. A man in thick knit sweaters with a messy beard– that could get messier covered in blood or buried between a writer’s thighs–

You pause and see you’ve written writer on the page. You cringe and scribble that out. You had your humble beginnings with composition notebook self-insert fanfiction as a tween, but you’re a big girl now. And you’re already writing prose over a guy you just met, you really don’t need to make it any weirder. Your mind goes through some humble, wholesome occupations to compliment a love interest like that. Baker? Too cliche. Schoolteacher? Too male gaze. Big city corporate lawyer? Too Hallmark movie.

You tap back of the pen against the page rhythmically and sit up. Investigative journalist. Still technically a writer, but the only things you investigate are late-night Twitter links on a private spam account not even your best friends know about.

Your pen dashes across the page, scrawling wildly. There’s not even any music playing, just the not-so-distant sound of the ocean, the radiator, and your own hand brushing against the paper. Soon, you’ve filled five pages without realising and that doubles in a blink. Shit! Your hand cramps up and you lift the pen finally, massaging your other thumb into your palm. It’s time for bed now, as three hours have passed and your back is killing you.

You ascend the stairs again and just go to sleep, hand and wrist sore and content with your productivity.

You wake up surprisingly early the next day, and decide to go into town to get some groceries. Your fridge is looking sparse and the pantries are basically empty. You buy some frozen stuff and some supplies to make coffee. You see the honey is placed on the highest shelf you’ve ever seen and huff. No workers around. You can probably get it on your tiptoes. You strain to reach it and hear a man’s voice.

“Can I help you with that?”

You almost fall dropping to your feet again, and a shooting pain goes up from your heels.

“Ow, shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

It’s a man in a lifeguard’s hoodie with red swim trunks on. Maybe you hit your head and you’re having some sort of insane Baywatch fantasy.

“Yes. Please.”

“Yeah, I honestly don’t know who puts this stuff up there. The lady who owns this place is like, four-eleven.” You laugh at that as he hands you the honey.

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I’m Chris, by the way.”

You give him your name and shake his hand. Fucking hell this guy is strong.

“Are you visiting?”

“Yeah. For a few months though. I’m working on a book.”

“You write horror?”

“Sorry?”

“Um, Stephen King’s from Maine. I feel like horror writers are always trying to… come out here and get some of that inspiration.”

“I think the inspiration he had was-”

“Cocaine?” he says at the same time as you. He shrugs. “At least you can recognise that. Half the other writers are ready to climb into the sewer.”

“Shit, well there goes my day at the rock quarry,” you joke.

He laughs at that and you grin.

“I’m a lifeguard on the beach for the next six hours, if you um… feel like you need some fresh air. Sunlight isn’t really a November specialty.”

“Are people really swimming this time of year?”

“Oh, they are. But so are the great whites, so, I’m mostly on seal watch.”

“Right.”

“I’m in tower Four,” he tells you eagerly. It’s like the words just jump right out of his mouth. “It’s right by the lighthouse. Nobody swims there, so… if you wanna tell me about your book or something… my job is pretty boring.”

“I’ll see you out there, Chris.”

“See you.”

You check out and ride the bike the homeowner left for guests back to the cottage. You feel insane. Maybe you were hospitalized after that breakdown and this is all some elaborate, drugged-up daydream you’re in. You pull out your notebook after the groceries are put away and flip to a new page. You click your pen and write HOT LIFEGUARD at the top of the page.

A love triangle sounds awesome.

Later on, after you actually manage to type some words on a new, more permanent outline document, your vision drifts out the window. It is actually kind of a nice day, even though it’s overcast and windy. You stand and squeeze your hands together, stretching out. It is time for another brisk walk, this time to Tower Four.

Chris sits up there, slumped in his chair and holding his rescue tube in his lap. His tanned, toned legs are wide as he sits back.

“Would it scare you really bad if I started yelling ‘help’?” you joke, peering up at him from the ground.

He chirps your name, sitting up and sliding his sunglasses on top of his head, pushing back his hair.

“You made it.”

“I brought you a snack,” you say, handing up the small bag of chocolates.

“Wicked,” he says, taking it from your hand. He swings down like a monkey and sits with his feet dangling off the side of the tower. You share the candies and look out on the water.

“So, you gonna tell me about your book?”

“Yeah, I’m not a horror writer.”

“What do you write?”

You hesitate. You know this song and dance, the divulgence of your career and the weird stares and uncomfortable shifting that follows. It’s ruined all sorts of dates and first impressions. Fuck it. You’re on sabbatical.

“Um… dirty romance books.”

“No shit? Is it like that crazy mafia stuff online?”

“Yeah, it’s exactly that.”

“Killer. You make a lot of money?”

“Enough to stay here and not work for three months.”

“So… you’re not writing a book?”

You shake your head.

“My creative well is completely dry. I came out here for-”

“Don’t even say it.”

“-some inspiration.”

“You are such a liar,” he teases. “You’re just like all those Stephen King wannabes,” he jokes, turning away from you.

You laugh at his silliness. You remain for a while, chatting about life and the town.

“The city is wild. I’m getting used to the silence, I think,” you tell him, having moved to– illegally– sit on the tower with him.

“Is the crime really so crazy out there?”

“Yeah, I mean… most of that is just there’s so many people crammed into such a small place. People go nuts.”

“Damn.”

“No crime here?”

“Not here, no, but um… about twenty miles north there’s this beach town, it’s a complete tourist getaway, but they got rocked by some shark attacks a few years back.”

“Some shark attacks?” you repeat his casual wording, shocked.

“Sorry. That sounded insensitive, it was really scary. That place is on its last legs now.”

“Well, yeah. Who wants to stay at the Jaws resort?”

“Bull shark, probably. The same thing happened in nineteen-sixteen. It was pretty gruesome.”

“Are you fucking with me?” you question him seriously, eyes squinted.

“I’m being serious, look it up.”

“Huh. Shit.” You sit back, eyes wandering to the lighthouse.

“Have you ever met the person who works up there?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking creepy.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“You met him?”

“Mhm. Last night.”

“Remmick? The lighthouse guy? You met him?”

“Yeah…? He was jogging.”

“Fucking weirdo,” Chris mutters. “He’s a complete shut-in.”

“How long has he been here?”

“Couple years? I don’t really know when he got here, he just… was there one day.”

“Weird.”

“Yeah, well. We used to have a night lifeguard, and– listen, I can admit having a girl out here on her own was pretty stupid– not that girls are… incapable or something-”

“I get it.”

“Right. And… full disclaimer, this girl really liked shrooms, but she swears up and down that she saw that guy covered in blood and eating a seal.”

“Whoa.”

“I mean, there was a dead seal on the beach, she was right about that.”

“Great white?”

“Oh, for sure. I’m think he was probably just doing that creepy-ass night jogging by the tower when that seal washed up, and… sometimes the sharks don’t fully kill the things-”

You grimace.

“I know, it’s pretty sad. Anyway, probably it was yowling and her fucking shroomed out brain conjured up that pretty picture. But he’s just a weird guy. He’s totally nocturnal. I’ve never seen the guy in the daytime. I’ve probably seen him six times and talked to him like… two, maybe?”

“Jeez.”

“Yeah. Anyways, sorry. That was a lot. I’d just stay away from the guy if you can. I don’t know what his deal is.”

You swiftly change the subject to movies and TV, which is good, because you two seem to share the same interests. Strangely enough, vampires are among them.

“I have sisters, so, I’ve seen Twilight about a hundred times? Maybe more?”

You laugh at that. You see him grinning and you check phone, seeing that two hours have passed.

“Shit. I have got to get back.”

“Right.”

“Thanks for the company. And the advice,” you add, nodding to the lighthouse.

“Um… would you want to grab a drink, tomorrow?”

“Oh. Yeah, sure. Um… where?”

“It’s called The Weasel. It’s definitely a townie bar, but… the drinks are cheap.”

You are fiending for an espresso martini, and you fear you’ll have to settle for an old reliable at a dive bar.

“Alright.”

“Cool. Um… eight o’clock sound good?”

“Eight o’clock sounds great.”

“Awesome. See you there.”

“I will see you there.”

Your back hits a tree as you pant, unable to run anymore. Your lungs burn as you gasp for cold night air in a dark, damp forest. You’re barefoot, in a wet nightgown that sticks to your skin and you’re terrified.

You tremble, feeling the looming presence of something evil and ancient, rising up in front of you. Met with words in a language you don’t understand, a clawed hand grips your jaw. They’re wet and sticky, hot with something you realise is blood. The creature laughs at you cruelly and on the other hand grabs a handful of your nightgown, claws ripping through the fabric as it tears a strip down the center. The hand cups between your legs. It splits your lips carefully– almost reverently– brushing a knuckle between your folds, claws away from your most sensitive skin. You gasp and shiver, hands against the tree. You’re wet, though. Soaking the creature’s hands as it coats your skin in blood. It’s so dark and your vision is blurry with tears, you only see two red spots staring at you, and the glint of pearly fangs as the jaw of the creature opens and lurches forward.

You shoot up and sigh, panting as you try to catch your breath. You’ve been plagued with these “psychosexual night terrors”, as your therapist calls them, since you finished writing SC. Some weeks they’re sparse and other ones you can’t sleep without waking up sticky and horrified. Your cortisol levels are through the roof and your sex drive is in the stratosphere. The running theory is that your frantic writing for the deadline of SC drove you just a little bit crazy, and your panic and arousal from writing about Milo’s sexy antics while your publishing house breathed down your neck combined and manifested as the scary void creature in your nightmares.

You take a cold shower that morphs into an everything shower when you remember your date with Chris. Not a date. Just grabbing a drink. Could be a date.

You feel like a kid again, having a cute summer fling with a boy at sleepaway camp with the distant bitter sweetness of knowing you’ll leave in three months. Except you are an adult woman and if you do fall in love, you could just move here forever.

But that’s wishful thinking.

You wait at the bar patiently. You’re a punctual girl, your agent adores that about you, so you are a little early. You chat with the bartender. She’s an older woman with a thick Mainer accent.

“Let me guess-”

“Not a horror writer,” you joke back.

She laughs at that. Her laugh is creaky but comforting, and you can tell she’s a smoker.

“You look nervous.”

“I’m meeting somebody?”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t say who, because I’m guessing you know everyone.”

“Well, I also know who’s single and who isn’t. If you’re worried he’s married, just give me a name.”

The bar is quiet, some men play pool and a group of vacationing dads drink beers and watch some sports on an outdated television.

You order another drink as you watch the clock behind the bar tick on.

By eight thirty, you’re sufficiently buzzed. You didn’t even get his phone number to text him.

By nine, you decide you should go home. You thank the bartender and leave her a generous tip. You’ll be too embarrassed to come in here for a while.

You take the bike home, slumping on the sofa in the living room as you kick off your heels. You feel tears pricking at your eyes and rub them away, not caring about your smudged eyeshadow or makeup. You wipe it off in the bathroom and change out of your clothes. You need another walk. Maybe you’ll run into the allegedly very creepy lighthouse man and you’ll get some inspiration.

“I’ll show you Stephen King wannabe, dickhead,” you mutter to yourself, pulling on your coat and shoving your notebook in your pocket.

You follow the familiar motions, down the path, out through the alcove, and down the beach. You have some angry music playing this time as you stomp down the beach and pass the lifeguard towers. Shrooms girl better thank her lucky stars she’s off night shift, because you look pissed off right now. You stalk all the way down to tower four and roll your eyes. This is a tantrum. You’re an adult.

“I thought I might see you again,” a voice calls. Remmick is on a ledge above you, leaning on the wooden railing.

“Can I come up there?”

“I’m not gon’ tell you what to do, sweetheart.”

You try to ignore the fire that lights in you and climb the sand and rock stairs, joining him on the ledge. He sits on a bench and pats the seat next to him.

“I heard a lot about you today, from a couple locals,” you tell him, lying about it.

You get the feeling Chris was being insecure, or maybe Remmick’s stolen one too many girls from him.

“Yeah, I’m a seal-eating nightwalker, you got me,” he jokes, his hands up in mock surrender.

You exhale through your nose. You wish you could laugh harder.

“I’m just a solitary kinda fella. People here, shit, they tight knit like fishin’ nets. They think everybody’s gotta know everybody’s business. Nobody knows mine, so they’ve been makin’ things up for the past three years.”

“Sorry I brought it up.”

“Hey, I’d rather you hear it from me.”

He looks at you for a moment and rubs a hand over his knee.

“You look upset.”

“Yeah. I uh…”

You hesitate, and see him lean forward, actively listening.

“It’s stupid.”

He holds his hand out, gesturing for you to speak.

“I got stood up,” you admit.

“For a date?”

“Not exactly. Just drinks.”

He clicks his tongue.

“That’s no good. Must be a pretty dumb guy, to stand you up.”

“Yeah. That was a dickhead move. I’m just hoping it was more of a… ‘oh shit, I totally forgot’ kind of thing.”

He eyes you and you cross your legs.

“Still. You musta gotten all dolled up for it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Well, I uh… I’m not so much a bar kind of fella, but if you wanna come out here sometimes all dolled up…” he leans in, “I got some good whiskey and two glasses.”

You lean in too, close to him.

“I might take you up on that, Remmick.”

“I gotta get up there,” he murmurs, looking at your lips as he speaks.

“Right.”

He doesn’t move, locked in place for a moment. He seems to shake off the spell and sits back, scrubbing a hand down his face, wiping his mouth. It almost looks like he’s wiping away drool. He stands up.

“You uh, you alright to walk home on your own?”

Words flash in your mind, the scene from SC where Milo promises to stalk Annmarie home, which results in him watching through the window as she touches herself. You’re drunk, you realise, as the neurons in your brain flicker out and blood rushes down your body.

“Yeah, I should be fine.”

“Right.”

He starts to walk away and turns back.

“I mean it. You come up see me sometime.”

“I will.”

You mean that, too.

Remmick thumbs through your notebook. How can you even understand this stuff? Your messy handwriting is charming. He reads through descriptions of vampire lore and fangs and turning that make him chuckle. He thinks of the smell of you, that hot scent of desire and the buzzing of your intoxicated body as you sat together. He’s so fucking cold in Maine, and he hasn’t been touched in years. He imagines you’d be hot to the touch. He knows you’re frustrated, you’ve been dissatisfied with pleasuring yourself. The descriptions of sex scenes have him biting back groans and palming himself through his pants.

He flips to the final page.

HOT LIFEGUARD

His eyes narrow as he realises who it was that stood you up. He turns the page back over, scanning through your previous writing.

LIGHTHOUSE VAMPIRE LOVER. CLAIMS TO KILL FOR HER. STALKERY? MILO PART II. LESS TENDER. MORE EVIL.

Oh, you’re fucking crazy.

He grins, his fangs sliding down.

He can make do with crazy.

You wake up early, painful early. You dress groggily and decide to get some air on the beach before the dickhead lifeguard starts his shift. You’re slightly hungover as you traverse down the path and through the alcove to walk on the beach.

The light is pale and you have to watch your step for kelp as you walk down. You see something up on the sand, and your heart sinks.

It has to be a seal. It’s not breathing, so you look at the nearest lifeguard tower for the animal control. You dial the number and wait patiently.

“Hello?” a voice that sounds just as groggy as you feel answers.

“Hi, I’m um, I’m on the beach right now and I think there’s a dead seal by the first lifeguard tower.”

“Oh, hell. Sorry, miss. It’s too damn early. Do you see any marks on it?”

“It’s hard to see with the fog. Is it safe to get closer?”

“Seals aren’t half as aggressive as sea lions, miss, so go ahead.”

You step closer, squinting with the fog. It’s absolutely dead, not moving at all. You approach it cautiously, worried about what other creatures might be lurking around.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach.

This is not a seal.

This is Chris the lifeguard, and he’s missing an arm.

#remmick x reader #remmick x you #remmick #remmick sinners #sinners fanfiction #remmick fanficiton #remmick fanfic #jack o'connell x reader #sinners 2025 #sinners

201 notes · View notes