#Getting a lot of “posting for the first time” notifications and I wanted to join

[dappertron]

I've got so many damned bird designs

Semaphray and Skuallyrojer are two birds based on birds, the Long-Tailed Skua and Parasitic Jaeger respectively, as well as sea faring flags. First guy's a Normal/Flying with sailor decor, a tail evoking a bunch of flags on a boat's stern, and some plumage tufts meant to resemble rigging. Its two wings are also colored like Japanese semaphore flags, AKA that one Mario Party minigame where captain Shyguy dooms you to death at sea if you choose the wrong flag. Second is a sailor turning into a Dark/Flying pirate (can you believe there are no overt pirate Pokemon?), with its birdy little features turning into a captain's coat and ruffled ascot. Its white and red wings turn into black and red, meant to be like the naval flags of quarter / no quarter.

[keferon]

I just want this fic to be here too👍 Part 1? Eh

_____________

“He's stalking his celebrity crush.”

“That's not stalking!” resents Swerve ”I'm just worried.”

Rewind makes a gesture that looks vaguely apologetic and looks at Tailgate again.

“Watching. He's watching his superhero celebrity crush who's a member of the Wreckers. And so far no one's survived long in the Wreckers, so he's shaking on every notification like a crazy mom.”

Tailgate tries to peer sideways into Swerve's phone

“That sounds stressful. Is that him? Is he dying?”

_____________

Blurr/Swerve, Superhero au, fic under the cut⤵️ Heavily inspired/based on this post

Blurr doesn't think life and death is something he can control.

He's about 99.99999% sure.

The remaining microscopic fraction of that idiotic statistic is held in place by one small but important factor that Blurr can't explain and isn't sure he even wants to explain. It's like the dream logic. The moment you realize exactly how things work is also the moment you wake up to realize it.

The very nuance understanding which destroys all magic or reveals the fact that magic never existed.

That nuance?

Blurr can't die.

And it's certainly not because he's not trying hard enough.

That last one sounds a little radical. But he has a history. His team has a history.

“Wreckers is a pretty peculiar collection of superheroes. It's easy to get into and even easier to get out of (usually feet first and in a bag). No other hero organization loses so many people so often. No other hero organization can also handle the level of threats that the Wreckers eliminate.

Their fans affectionately refer to them as the Suicide Squad. There is...a lot of black humor among the Wreckers fanbase and Blurr doesn't condemn it. Not after having to memorize new names and faces of teammates every six months.

The thing is.

He probably should have been dead a long time ago. A lot. A lot of “that was close” ago.

Just two days after joining the Wreckers, he found himself in the middle of an absolutely monstrous fire and miraculously escaped death by getting away just moments before the entire building collapsed on his head.

Only a week after that, he gets shot. Fifteen times.

And. Look.

Blurr is fast! Being fast is kind of his main thing as a speedster. He did the only logical thing and made an honest effort to dodge, but three of those fifteen bullets still ended up inside him and only miraculously didn't hit anything that couldn't be repaired.

Half a year later, a car falls on him.

Another month - some freaking supervillain decides to infect an entire country with a homemade super lethal virus and guess who becomes the only victim.

At least once a month, various psychopaths try to break his legs.

At least once every half a year he ends up being the one who “heroically saved all the hostages but didn't have time to save himself”.

It's like an endless stream of negative karma.

It's really amazing how such a small piece of civilization like Iacon can contain so many disasters. Even more amazing perhaps is how people manage to survive through all this neat smoothie of misery and violence.

Earthquakes, villains, villains, more villains, terrorists, natural disasters, monsters from outer space, and it all comes out of nowhere and it all takes a hundred percent effort to pack Blurr in a coffin.

Blurr... doesn't know why he's still alive.

He honestly has no idea how he's doing it. He may get into life-and-death situations more often than he does haircuts but every time things come within an inch of killing him. It's impossible luck. Statistically improbable chance. One-in-a-thousand odds. A fucking lightning caught in a bottle, but it happens so often it's like someone somewhere in heaven decided to open a bottled lightning factory and then reward Blurr with the title of their honorary loyal customer.

Blurr doesn't think he has power over life and death.

But here's the thing.

On some particularly violent nights, he wonders that maybe...

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

Sometimes Swerve thinks being a dedicated fan should be on the list of “unhealthy” high-paying jobs. One of those where they give you extra cash for the fact that you even bother to show up and then give you insurance and paid vacations.

Okay, that last one might be a bit of an overkill, but it would be nice if he at least had an endless supply of sedatives.

At least some chamomile. Preferably not from the sidewalk. He's not picky.

See, their world decided to change the rules of existence not too long ago and turned such a trivial thing as “trust” into a new in-game currency.

Simply put. If enough people believe something, it becomes true.

What has society chosen to do with that? Of course create an absolutely insane cult of celebrity worship, essentially giving a bunch of already rich and beautiful people superpowers as well.

As if they weren't already living luxuriously enough!

Swerve is not jealous. Certainly not. His first thought when he found out about the new “rules” was definitely not to tell everyone he knows that he won a million dollars and wait for the power of belief to make it true.

He surely wasn't trying to do that. Anyone who claims otherwise is either a liar or their name starts with a T and ends with Gate.

Speaking of.....

Tailgate scratches the back of his head puzzled.

“So you didn't actually win a million dollars?”

They are sitting in a small cafe, the name of which Swerve has honestly forgotten. Or rather he never memorized it, because the local owner of the place prefers to hang huge posters with superheroes right above the name. Swerve is a rather controllable customer.....

Rewind, sitting at the same cheap plastic table as them, hums.

“And here I was trying to figure out if your holey slippers were a cry for help or one of those crazy expensive 'fancy' designs.”

“Ha. ha.” says Swerve slowly and deliberately unhappily “If I get rich one day, I won't tell any of you.”

He slowly takes a sip of some obscure looking substance that Rewind ordered for them all as an experiment and turns to Tailgate.

“Look, it's a pretty fun system. Things that people believe in strongly enough - become real. So if uh, if uh, if we as a whole country believe that our government is honest - that will, in theory, make it honest. Or if a hundred thousand people genuinely believe you can fly, you will be able to fly. That's how it works now.”

Tailgate stares at him. With very large, puzzled eyes.

Swerve tries not to laugh too hard. Poor Tailgate had once gone off to explore the caves and somehow, by some incredible means, managed to get lost and stuck in them for two whole months. Then he crawled out and discovered that magic had appeared in the world while he was gone. Swerve thinks that if he were Tailgate, he'd look very stupid too, trying to realize the absurdity of the situation.

Tailgate is toying with his curled straw.

“So is the government honest now?”

Rewind makes a loud “snrk” noise into his cup.

Swerve chuckles. Not as “funny” haha but more like “we fucked it all up” haha.

It shouldn't be possible to fit all the sense of doom from the world's level of damnation into one expression, but he confidently goes for it.

“GOD NO, did you ever believe that government could be honest?”

“Well...now that's just sad...” decides Tailgate ‘Something good was supposed to come out of this, right?”

Rewind raises a finger victoriously.

“Oh! There are no more incurable diseases! The placebo effect is the new big thing now that a bunch of people have gotten the ability to cure any illness at the snap of their fingers.”

Swerve nods, dangling his drink in his hands.

“There was a guy who claimed he had magic hands that cured everything and gathered a crowd of fanatical admirers around him. So...now his hands are really magic because his followers believe it. Crazy stuff...”

Tailgate puts his elbows on the table, propping his head up with his hands.

“So if I tell everyone I won a million dollars.....”

“I recommend--” Rewind waves his cup “...first make sure you're not wearing holey slippers.”

“Аh”

“That, and you'll need at least about a million people loving and supporting you wholeheartedly if you want this to work.”

“That's...a lot of people,” Tailgate groans.

Swerve shrugs

“That's why all the really cool stuff only goes to celebrities.”

_____

Tailgate cranes his neck curiously.

“Hey Swerve, while you went to place your order your phone started buzzing.”

Swerve falls back into his seat as fast as if he'd just decided the entire floor was lava and starts scrolling through notifications, cursing at spam and useless newsletters.

“When??”

“Just a couple minutes ago” shrugs Tailgate ”Are you expecting someone?”

“I'M...OH NO NO I'M JUST. Shit, wait a minute.”

Rewind leans over to Tailgate and smiles deviously, not even trying to pretend to whisper.

“He's stalking his celebrity crush.”

“That's not stalking!” resents Swerve ”I'm just worried.”

Rewind makes a gesture that looks vaguely apologetic and looks at Tailgate again.

“' Watching. He's watching his superhero celebrity crush who's a member of the Wreckers. And so far no one's survived long in the Wreckers, so he's shaking on every notification like a crazy mom.”

Tailgate tries to peer sideways into Swerve's phone

“That sounds stressful. Is that him? Is he dying?”

Swerve slides down the back of his chair slightly and tilts the phone toward Tailgate

“No, it's not him. He's the one in the blue suit on the left. And no, he's not dying. That bastard is impossible to kill.”

Tailgate lets out an understanding “ooh.”

“Although,” Swerve admits, “ Following him was a lot easier when he was driving cars instead of saving the world.”

He's been a Blurr fan for so long that it can probably be put on his resume already. He remembers watching the Iacon 5000 race with friends with Rewind starting to joke about how they should all bet on someone brand new this year. To fuel the fun, they sat down to pick candidates to bet on based solely on the color of their cars.

Swerve then poked his finger at a random bright blue car and said he'd bet on it because “blue is a fast color.”

Later, his friends would joke more than once that Swerve had the gift of prophecy that day. Because blue wasn't just fast. Oh, God. No. Blue turned out to be the absolute leader, dominating the race track from start to finish.

Swerve remembers vividly the first time he looked at a racer getting out of that car and thought “who the hell is that” and then immediately “how do I find his socials”.

The answer to the second question came quickly. The answer to the first...well. The guy, Blurr, soon turned out to be a faceless celebrity. Shining at numerous races, but never showing his face. Swerve highly doubts it's due to shyness, given...some character traits. (Swerve has a running theory, which is that ...Blurr has no shame. Even as a concept.) Probably just to keep his life anonymous and quiet, he believes.

It's understandable.

He's not judging. But he has to admit that a billion fanarts on what a face under a racing helmet could look like in theory...really...fuels his fantasy.

He's a very normal and sane fan. He tries very hard to be a normal fan and he's doing a great job at it. Maybe except for those moments when Blurr gets into another car accident. Lots of them. Lots and lots of bloody accidents actually and Swerve at first catches a micro heart attack every time he sees the news, but eventually he gets used to it. Blurr is incredibly resilient. And just as rich as well.

Swerve is used to hearing updates about another incident and then seeing Blurr back in the race a couple months later. Just as energetic, carefree, and frankly . Really handsome. As if nothing had happened. As if any danger would just bounce off him without leaving a dent.

It was familiar. It was habitual.

Until, of course, the universe started handing out faith magic to people. Until Blurr walked up to this imaginary box of lottery numbers and pulled out a ball that said “congratulations you're lucky now go and fucking die.”

Blurr is a racer. A damn good racer. Incredibly popular too. Of course his many fans who adore him beyond measure gave him a superpower.

Of course that power was speed.

Of course.

Blue is the color of speed. What else.

As a racer, Blurr is undefeatable.

As a superhero, ..

Swerve still thinks this guy is impossible to kill, but that doesn't mean he doesn't get worried every time he sees the news headlines and live feeds.

“You're alive” Springer states ”Literally how are you still alive?”

Blurr tilts his head because it's the only part of his body he can still move while trapped under ten tons of mangled steel from a Decepticon flying base falling out of the sky.

“Hello to you, too.”

Springer tentatively pulls the nearest sheet of metal and hums in satisfaction when he feels the structure is stable enough.

“Bleeding? Fractures?”

“I think my hair's ruined.”

“No one can even see your hair.”

“Doesn't mean I shouldn't care about it,” snorts Blurr

Springer tosses aside another piece of metal and reaches for his earpiece

“Smoke...? Nah...no really.....REALLY. ....No, you're not going to believe this. ......Aha, digging him out.” he looks away from the earpiece and leans over Blurr ‘Smokescreen wanted me to tell you that he's impressed and,... I quote ’personally saw that damn wagon fall right on your head'. He also wants to know if he needs to shoo away the paparazzi.”

Blurr tries to shrug but remembers in time that it's best not to fidget too much.

“Tell him I'll need a new suit. Let him keep everyone, I'm fine.”

“Literally...like...” barely audibly mutters Springer. “Like.h ow..”

Blurr smiles “My guardian angel is working overtime.”

Swerve takes a deep, nervous exhale, unhooking his fingers from the phone on which he's watching the live feed. Ah shit. Okay. Okay. Alive. Fine.

Rewind looks over his shoulder.

“Looking out for your pookie?”

“HE'S NOT MY

__________

Smokescreen stops right in the middle of an inspired argument with the advertisement agent when his side vision registers a flash of blue to the right of the entirely destroyed street.

“Blurr??”

“Oh, hey!” waves Blurr, “'Sup Smoke?”

The crumbled asphalt beneath his feet crunches softly. Just a few minutes ago, this street was a complete mayhem....

Smokescreen waves the clipboard in his direction

“I thought you had your head ripped off, you suicidal son of a bitch! Do you know how hard it was to calm your hysterical fans down??”

Blurr knows no one can see his face but rolls his eyes anyway. Almost immediately his brain tells him that this was a bad idea, sending a whole bunch of black spots in front of his eyes.

“Hey, you're getting paid for th...ugh...this.”

Blurr doesn't elaborate on the fact that he was sure he was going to be left headless today as well. One of the Overlord's freaking monster minions grabbed him and for a split second Blurr could swear he heard his own neck crunch.

He tries not to think about it.

The more he thinks about it, the less sense it will make.

The more he analyzes, the louder becomes the voice in the far corner of his head saying he should have been dead a long time ago.

A week ago when an entire air base fell on him. Three weeks ago during the battle with Menasor that practically broke his spine. Even earlier, when he was so busy evacuating hospital staff that he ended up being the only one present when that hospital exploded.

He's afraid that if he starts looking into the causes, this magical effect..this life-saving placebo will disappear.

He's convinced it's a placebo. It's the way this world works.

Someone out there must be doing some complex mental magic, keeping him more or less alive and whole and...Blurr is probably going a little crazy. Probably.

Maybe one of those many blows got him harder than he thought. Maybe it's his own self-confidence manifesting miracles of salvation one after another.

(It actually...doesn't sound that unbelievable. Blurr has a lot of belief in himself. Many people would say even too much. The question is whether it counts.)

(He prefers to think it counts.)

__________

Swerve sees red. Lots of it. LOTS of red.

More than he ever wanted to see in his life.

Uh-oh. That's not good.

His vision is blurring. His head buzzes with a nasty sharp static and his left shoulder hurts like a BITCH.

Above him is the flickering, faltering light of the bulb and below him is a growing puddle of his blood. His hair is wet and sticking to his face, making it hard to focus his already shaky gaze.

He makes an attempt to shift, but all it brings him is an explosion of pain.

Ugh.

Sirens are blaring outside, warning the public to evacuate. He's not really sure he can make out exactly what the sound is announcing. He has memorized all kinds of emergency alerts, but the thought escapes him.

What was it

Oh, yeah.

He's been shot.

He's been shot and he's probably going to die because everyone he knows is either too far away or busy evacuating. He vaguely hopes they'll remember about him.

Maybe only after getting to a safe place, but he'll take even that.

The red around him is getting bigger.

He tries to reach for his phone to...where is his phone? Did he leave it in the kitchen? He probably did. Swerve seemed to have no time to grab it when the entire building shook and ugly semi-mechanical monsters fell from the sky.

One of these monsters noticed Swerve just moments later and activated something resembling a cannon mounted in his hands. Swerve then looked at the glowing muzzle and thought that firing this thing would probably send his atoms so far away that his dna would be found on the moon. He could stick his hand down that gun barrel. And his hands are far from the smallest and most delicate hands you can find.

Why did this have to happen on a Saturday? Why not a day later or earlier? If it were any other day, Swerve would be at work right now. In a different place, with other people and probably with a much better chance of not being killed like a loser.

Not sure he wouldn't have been shot, but at least someone would have seen this and picked him up off the floor, put him in their pocket and taken him to the rescue.

Ugh.

He realizes that he closed his eyes at some point and hurriedly opens them. His expertise is by no means professional, but he is almost certain that that weapon wasn't ordinary. He has no idea what it means for him. Maybe he needs stitches, painkillers and a kiss and he'll be good as new. Or maybe it's like one of those films where you get hurt by an unknown creature and then you grab the sink in front of the mirror at midnight and watch the veins under your skin move on their own.

He doesn't feel shot, as silly as that sounds. He feels numb. Falling. Farther and farther away.

He is falling and falling as deep as he's ever fallen in his life. Maybe not as far as "got lost in the woods" far. No, more like " a coin dropped behind the fridge" far. It's not really about the distance but more about the feeling that he's never going to get out of here because no one ever looks in here.

He’s falling until the state of falling starts to register as a resting point, because that's the only variable he still feels. This corner he falls into is very deep and dark and dusty.

He doesn't remember to open his eyes again.

___________

Smokescreen sounds frankly hysterical, yelling at Blurr through his earpiece.

“I understand you like to show off, but you can't outrun a freaking tsunami?!?!”

Blurr only speeds up, “Watch."

“You cocky IDIOT this is suicide!”

“Relax Smoke” laughs Blurr ”You say that every time.”

The half-destroyed bridge shakes and sways like a wounded animal as the water from the overrunning sea crashes into it, gouging into the concrete and bending the metal.

The whole scene is...depressing. Water and debris everywhere and damn. This isn't the first time Blurr is witnessing a large-scale attack by the "forces of evil" as the hero agency likes to call them, but looking at the wrecked cars and scattered debris doesn't get any easier with time. Maybe it just hasn't been long enough. Who knows.

Springer doesn't look like he is bothered by it. But Springer also has a lot more experience being a superhero. With his skill at giving out smiles and encouragement in absolutely any situation, not many can compete.

Blurr certainly can't. In fact. He's got a face with subtitles that turn on in almost any stressful situation. Wearing a mask is probably one of the best things he can do to calm down any random civilians waiting for him to save the day. If they can't see him making panicked grimacing eyes, they'll be feeling much better.

A few more seconds and he's on the collapsing bridge. The people stuck on it look hysterical and bruised, but no one seems injured, so it shouldn't be difficult.

Blurr's plan is simple. Get all the people out of the disaster's path. Then get yourself out. Easy.

Easy?

He can pinpoint the exact moment when something goes wrong.

It's the second that a crooked, hideous-looking monster grabs his leg and pulls him underwater. The second when Blurr fights it with all his might and realizes with sudden horror that his strength isn't enough. That he is. Not enough.

His lungs burn, begging him to take a breath and he doesn't even know which way is the surface because all there is around him is the dark, black, cold pressure of water. It's clinging to him, seeping through his suit, his hair, burning his eyes and making his fingers go numb. It's pulling him somewhere, and he's obeying whether he wants to or not.

His spine prickles with panic.

His personal miracle. His damn magic or guardian angel or cursed luck or whatever the hell it was called. That thing that was always there to catch him like in that game of trust fall. He'd gotten so used to it's presence, he began to take it for granted.

Like the air you trust to be there every time you need to take your next breath.

And right now?

It's not here.

His body takes a convulsive breath and finds nothing but water.

[kisses4reid]

understand? pt. 1 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you’re a polyglot translator assigned to work for the bau in a cross-national case, and there’s a doctor who wants to impress you.

genre - fem!reader, SHE/HER r, fluff, meet cute, you know more than spencer and he’s attracted to that

warnings - you're both awkward, mentions of gross case file photos, little research about polyglots actually done so there are inaccuracies, cliffhanger for part 2.

w/c - 1.4k

a/n - thank you for the req anon!! there was multiple parts to this but i really like the first idea so that’s what this fic is about, might keep the other idea for later hehe. i did change some aspects. love you, thank you for the support <33 there will be multiple parts!!! stay tuned!!!

req - hi pia 💞💝🩷💓 how r u? i hope you’re feeling wonderful! this is my first time requesting smthg i apologize if i get something wrong! i’ve been having 2 thoughts about spencer x fem!reader, where reader is a russian translator and idk they meet cute or she has to work with the bau helping them on a case. just wanted to give these ideas to you, obviously feel free to do anything with them! i really enjoy your work and your writing is incredible! i have your notifications on so i am always reading whatever you post! have a great day pia 💝 lots n lots of kisses for u!

This was not what you expected. 

You, a woman in your late twenties that spent most of her time in a room listening to voices and decoding foreign messages, didn’t know what you expected. But this: a scary boss, an italian old man, and a skinny college kid, was not it. 

“Y/n L/n? I’m Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, and this is Agent Rossi and Doctor Agent Reid.” 

You nodded your head, thick hair covering your top eyelashes as you glanced at the men. Agent Rossi shook your hand, and Dr Reid simply stood and gawked at you. To be honest, it made you worried. You had been warned this was a close knit team, that they trusted each other more than anything and that you shouldn’t get attached to any of them as you’d only be assisting them for one case.

Maybe they just didn’t warm up to new people. 

“I’ll do your formal introduction to the rest of the team now, if you’re settled down.” He asks cooly. You like the way his voice rasps, it’s assertive yet comforting. 

“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” You smiled reassuringly at the unit chief, not ignoring the raised eyebrow you received from the silent young man now behind you.

Aaron Hotchner, your new boss for the next week or so, lead you to a large room with a circular table sat in the middle. There were two other women, one blonde and one raven haired, and another bald man that glanced at you immediately after you entered. They smiled at you and trailed your steps to where you stood beside the unit chief in front of a large TV screen.

“Everyone, this is Agent Y/n L/n. She’ll be assisting us with the Becker case you’ve all been informed of. She’ll mainly be our translator and interpreter, but she’ll also be useful for cultural identifiers and anything that we wouldn’t notice otherwise.” 

You nodded along, never being a fan of introductions since you moved to America as a small child. 

“This is JJ, our liaison, Agent Emily Prentiss and Agent Derek Morgan.” 

The ladies smiled at you, in fact all of them did. They were surprisingly open to the fact you would be joining them, the fact made your shoulders loosen and a breath to be let out discreetly. 

Next, you were on a long plane flight to Maine with Agents you had known for little under two hours, conversing about victim profiles and motives. The table in front of the ladies and your boss was strewn with victim files and gruesome photos. And while you weren’t a stranger to the dangers and violence the job brought, you had gotten comfortable with only hearing about it and not seeing it. So you opted to hover around the table and stay silent, you weren’t a trained profiler after all, just a translator.  

There was a wave of cologne that disrupted your senses, causing you to angle your head back, only to be greeted by the tall doctor. 

You smiled softly, assuming the closeness was due to the aeroplane's arrangement. Also because you got the vibe that Spencer didn’t like you. 

“Are you okay? You seem uneasy,” he asked. It was the first time you heard his voice. And it was as adolescent as you imagined for someone so young, but it had a sophisticated edge to it, with a honey-like undertone. Finding things in voices as if they were perfumes was something you unconsciously started to do since working as a translator.

“I’m fine.” You grinned reassuringly, turning back to focus on the team’s findings. 

Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped away, sitting down beside Morgan who had taken a seat at the back. Morgan squinted at his friend, noticing the rare confusion splayed on his face as he stared in your direction. 

“What’s up? Pretty girl got your tongue?” Morgan removed his headphones with a cheeky smile displayed on his handsome face.

“For someone who specialises in languages she doesn’t talk much.” 

Morgan smirked, “Maybe not to you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong though.” Spencer ripped his gaze off the back of your head.

“You’ve been staring at her since she walked through those doors. You were so distracted you didn’t even greet her this morning.” Morgan pointed out. Spencer tilted his head confused, a small blush creeping up his neck. “I watched the whole thing from the conference room, so did JJ and Emily.” 

The tall boy slumped in his chair and forced himself to look out of the plane’s window, avoiding a reply to Morgan as he knew it would only result in more teasing. You were physically attractive, everyone could see that, but the thing that caught Spencer’s attention was your intelligence. He was no stranger to being a polyglot, he learnt languages for fun, but you were simply next level. Morgan studied Spencer’s face for a second before raising his attention to your hovering state. “Agent Y/n L/n.” Morgan called, causing Spencer to widen his eyes and immediately adjust his slumped position in his plane seat. You turned your head in surprise, slightly confused why you would be needed anywhere else than the files you had been translating for the past two minutes. Your heels were silent against the carpeted floors, but Spencer could sense your presence anyways. 

“How many languages do you speak?” The stoic man asked, his eyes darting between you and the doctor below you. You were not short, your genes didn’t allow for it, but you had noticed you were only taller than JJ and Rossi in the team and it felt foreign to not tower over everyone. “Um, I speak 8 languages fluently, and 4 languages semi-fluently.” You stated, readying to turn back to assist the team before Morgan spoke up once again

“Did you know that pretty boy can speak Spanish and German?” 

Before Spencer could help himself, he corrected the man, “And Latin and Russian,” Spencer turned his head up to you, “But I can understand more.” 

You smiled, genuinely impressed and confused on how a man that young could learn that much. But to be fair, you were in the same boat. The nickname got your attention, locking it in the back of your mind to remind yourself that the people you were working with did in fact have senses of humour, and weren’t just heartless officers. There wasn’t any reason to think that though, as you had been cared for with respect and even Prentiss made a funny remark beforehand. It sort of felt like a family dinner you were intruding on. “That’s impressive, Doctor Reid.” You reply genuinely. 

“I mean it’s nothing compared to you though,” his voice was pitched slightly higher and his hands started motioning to nothing in particular, “your brain is constantly changing from high activity to low activity when you're translating from one language to another. Your language network, the lateral frontal lobe, is constantly lighting up and dimming down depending on what language you hear, ordinary people’s language networks only turn on and off.” 

Morgan smirked and glanced up at your intrigued and surprised expression. You nodded, a small blush coating the tips of your ears as you responded, “Thank you.” You didn’t really know what else to say, which is funny for someone who understands so many languages, so you simply smiled and turned back to the table. Spencer slumped again, watching you walk away and asking himself why he would inform a pretty girl about her own brain, when she most definitely already knows about it. 

“Don’t worry too much, Reid.” Morgan called, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The boy raised a brow, not understanding. “She digs it, I can tell. But she’s just like you, knows how to speak in a million ways and still doesn’t know how to small talk.” 

You landed without any more awkward interactions, and got introduced to some sheriffs in Maine, one of them giving you a tighter handshake than the rest and a stare that could only mean unpleasant things. It wasn't something sexist or creepy that lingered in his eyes, it was more like hatred. Spencer took the sheriff's attention away from you after noticing what the whole team did, and asked him to show him the records they kept at the precinct.

Emily Prentiss came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, squeezing it like she understood what you had thought you'd seen. Out of everyone else in the team, she would understand the most.

taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld

[kinbedo]

The Boy is Mine- Kinich x gn! reader

KINICH FEELS LIKE HE SHOULD BE 5'6 WDYM HE'S 5'3

(AND I'M 2CM TALLER THAN HIM???)

Brainrot time :3

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Summary: Kinich is that guy at school popular for being mysterious and for being on the basketball team. Of course, the girls hate you because of your relationship with him, so he helps you sabotage their dreams with pictures of the two of you together. (wc: 2k)

Warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive (16+),

Kinich is a basketball player and reader is implied to be into an unspecified sport (I was initially going to make it basketball or volleyball, but decided to make it as less specific as possible)

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There’s a lot of things you don’t understand. 

How does Kinich almost never miss his baskets despite being one of the shorter members of the team? How does he always maintain a decent grade despite looking like he never pays attention?

How is he yours?

And it seems the girls from your grade who text you don’t understand that either.

“Break up.”

“He’d be better with me :/”

“Yk, most guys prefer it if their partner is supporting them during their games.”

“Not being absent from the scene bc they have their ‘own’ match to play.”

You sigh as you put your phone back down. Kinich’s nonchalance must be rubbing off on you too, because you couldn’t care less about what the girls in your messages wanted.

“Who was it this time?” Kinich says, placing a juice carton beside you before joining you on the floor of your bedroom.

“The same ones. They’re the only ones with guts to actually text like that.”

“They sound so desperate, it’s almost pathetic.”

“Right?!” You slump, bringing your knees closer to your chest and sighing.

“You do know that I only love you, right?” There’s a hint of concern in Kinich’s voice, worried that you’re actually taking their words to heart. You merely hum in response, not lifting your head up.

Kinich leans back against the bed, sighing as he checks his own notifications. There’s one from his basketball group chat regarding practice and a few messages from Mualani just being Mualani. He sighs again. Of course you’re the only one receiving the jealous girls’ messages- they wouldn’t dare to actually text him.

“Sometimes,” you begin, causing Kinich to look your way, humming in response, “I wish there was a way to show us off, to rub it in their faces that I’m the lucky one.”

He wants to retort that he’s the lucky one, but decides against it. He’s not so good with words to say it without ruining the mood and without making it sound cringe. He lets his eyes trail your fingers, the way you’re drawing circles into the ground with your head still buried in your legs. 

“What if… we did just that?”

“Kini? What do you mean? And how do you suggest we go about it?”

His heart skips a beat at the nickname. Mualani tried to tease him with it once, but he only liked it when you called him that. “Mm-hm! You’re definitely in love.” He remembers Mualani teasing him, her smile reaching her eyes as Kachina laughed awkwardly. Would they have done a better job at comforting you? Would they have better ideas regarding your current situation? Would you be uncomfortable upon hearing what he has in mind?

“What if we got more pictures for the two of us? But instead of the casual ones you get for memories, these are more…” ‘Sexy’ is what he wanted to say, but the words get stuck in his throat when you lift your head up, meeting his gaze for the first time since he sat down beside you. He’d rather not have you post anything suggestive, he doesn’t like the idea of others getting to see those sides of you.

You consider his words, trying to finish his sentence for him when it strikes you. “Do you mean like those pinterest couples?”

He nods in response. Yes, that’s exactly what he meant. Of course you would grasp the meaning behind his words, only you could read him; only you understand him well enough to do that. Not the girls in your notifications asking you to break up. No, they don’t stand a chance. 

Kinich’s mind is a roller coaster. There’s a lot he wants to say, but he just couldn’t seem to express himself. So he thinks, and keeps it to himself, hoping you’d somehow just understand him like you always have.

“Sure, we can try that.” You grab your phone again, scrolling through your feed in search of inspiration when one catches your eye. “Let’s try this one.” Kinich just nods again, pushing himself off the ground. He reaches his hand towards you, helping you get up. “Anything you want, love.”

Your heart flutters at the endearment and a small smile creeps onto your face. Kinich is never too open with his love, but he never lets you doubt it either. When it’s from him, you love ‘love’. It’s always the little things he does- helping you up, cheering you on in your games, practicing with you, checking in at the end of the day, and being more open with his emotions around you. The other girls would never get to see this side of him. The thought itself makes you feel better.

You decide to make a few “arrangements” before getting the photos- tidying your room, dimming the lights and making slight adjustments to your outfit. This started as an activity to get good pictures, but you realised you were taking longer than usual to get this stuff done. You felt your nerves getting to you.

Wait, nerves? 

You’re nervous?

 It’s not that you’ve never been close to Kinich before- you’ve hugged before, he has carried you home once when you sprained your leg during practice, you helped him patch up after he scraped his knee. You’ve kissed his cheek when you part ways. He has kissed your forehead after his games. You’ve even kissed before.

Then why was the thought of getting those aesthetic-pinterest-couple goals core pictures so… nerve-racking.

You heard Kinich take a deep breath beside you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You eyed him, curious as to his own thoughts, when he pulls you closer. “We should… just get this done with.” His ears were slightly red and he avoided your gaze when he said this. Another deep breath and his hands reach your waist, giving it a light squeeze. He kissed between your eyebrows before asking, “Ready?” 

You merely nod in reply, the words stuck in your throat. You take a deep breath to strengthen your resolve, getting your mind into the situation to rid the nerves. 

Breath in.

Breath out.

“Ready.” You smile at him, suddenly a lot more confident than you were before.

He holds your waist with one hand while his other hand holds the phone to his face, covering it. Your back is to the mirror as you nestle your head in his neck. You’re wearing a jersey-  “07 KINICH” printed in big, bold letters, unmistakably his jersey. You hoist a leg up, wrapping it around his waist as his grip on your waist tightens. You smirk into his neck as you hear the camera shutter going off. 

Kissing his neck, you let yourself down and grab your phone from his hands, almost immediately uploading the picture on your instagram captioned “To the people that want us to break up, kindly, fuck off <3”

“Let’s get another.” You let out a low laugh, holding his chin in your hand and kissing his cheek before letting go to find a suitable spot.

You decide to settle down on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread wide enough to give Kinich space to settle between them on the ground. He lays his head on your thighs, his back to the mirror this time, boasting your jersey. “You’re rather cruel,” he mumbles into your skin, before pressing a chaste kiss there. You chuckle again, letting a hand rest on your side while the other covers your face with the phone. 

Just as you finish getting the picture, you receive a notification.

 

‘Replied to your story: “Are you forcing him to do this? What’s in it for him?”’

You let out a satisfied hum, patting the head of the man still on the floor, as he leans into your touch. Kinich tilts his head up, raising his eyebrows as you seemed too amused with whatever notification just came in. “What?”

You hum again, lowering your phone to show him the message. He scoffs. “One more. But before that, upload this one saying that you’d be willing to out the people who have been sending you these messages.”

“And you said I was the cruel one.” you laugh. 

But you did just as he said, captioning your second story upload as “One more message, and you guys are going to be tagged in my next post <3”

“...And that’s uploaded. Which position do you suggest this time?”

Kinich thinks for a moment, his hazel eyes scanning your darkened room for a good spot. 

“The mirror pictures are nice, so definitely another one of those.”

“You just hate showing your face.”

“That’s true, but that’s besides the point.” 

You roll your eyes. Of course he hates taking photos of himself, and of course, that was the main reason why he preferred the photos where his face was hidden. 

You scroll through your pinterest again as Kinich circles behind you, hugging you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. You can feel his gaze piercing through your feed, thinking about each photo that pops up. He then points at one, his hand brushing against yours as he taps on the image that caught his eye. “How about this one?” 

The couple in the photo are close, really close. They’re clearly kissing behind the phone that’s obstructing their faces. Would he kiss you too? Or would he just lean in? And if he kisses you, is it really just going to be for the sake of the photo?

You feel your face heat up just thinking about it. His slow breathing fanning over your ears was not helping either. You nod weakly, moving to find a spot to reenact the image.

You lean against the wall beside the mirror. Kinich abruptly hoists your right leg up, causing you to stumble before leaning further into the wall. You raise the phone in your hand until it covered your face in the mirror. Kinich let out a low hum. He let his eyes drift to your lips before meeting your gaze. Your gaze flutters to his lips, blurring the world around you. You zone out and tune in, watching the tiny ray of light reflect off the mirror and into his eyes. His eyes shine, a fusion of topaz and jade mesmerising you. You gulp at the sight, feeling his hot breath fanning over your own face.

With a small nod, he leaned in, capturing you in for a kiss as you pressed the camera button.

You let your hands sling onto his shoulders, tugging him closer. Kinich traced your back, feeling your curves underneath his fingertips. He traced downwards until he reached your ass, giving it a light squeeze before breaking the kiss. He stares at you for a bit, taking in your flustered form, before breaking the silence with a whisper, “Your notifications are going off again.”

That startles you, reminding you of why you both were in your current position. You push him off as he chuckles, quickly swiping through your phone to find your target. “Hmm… what if I just…” 

Click! You screenshot the latest messages you received, editing them onto your last photo. “That should do it.”

“What are you going to caption this one?” Kinich asks, sitting down on the bed and folding his legs. He grabs your pillow and places it on his lap, placing his elbow on it and leaning into his palm, he waits for you to take your place beside him.

“You’ll have to check that yourself.” You chuckle, quickly uploading the image and putting your phone away.

Curious, Kinich grabs his phone and checks your profile to find your latest post. The picture of you both kissing behind the phone makes him blush a bit. Then he notices the screenshot you attached on the side, sighing at the horrendous messages. “Some people are too jealous for their own good.” And then he checks the caption, the tips of his ears turning a bright red as his hands rush to cover his blushing face as you chuckle.

“Perks of having hobbies other than being bitchy <3 Jealous that you guys can’t exchange jerseys like we can? Poor baby :< I did warn you though, so don’t complain about having been exposed alright? After all, the boy is mine.”

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[aquasoftware]

YOU GOT ME LOOKING FOR ATTENTION!!

Cw: Discord mod! Satoru, Kpop! fanboy satoru, fem! reader, fluff to smùt, Satoru lives with his parents, hcs, e-sēx/phone sēx, mūtual màsturbàtīon, long distance, lots of petnames, he calls you kitten (1), + ML

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who spends way too much time on discord servers, he’s got notifs consistently blowing up on his computer which drives his parents insane from having the racket memorized. 

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who joins a server for every group, and he’s a discord mod in four. He shoos his parents out of the basement when they advise him to get a real job.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who’s the guy who posts fancams with lovesick captions like “I’m on my knees for Chaeyoung again. 😍” 

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who has a custom emoji reaction for every mood. He owns lightsticks and photocards with them displayed on a glass shelf like prized possessions.

Bonus: He still brags about having McDonald’s BTS bags in general chat too.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who meets you through a kpop fan server he’s in, It started with a random reply to your message about the worst kpop songs. You clowned the instrumental ‘Sticker’ by nct 127 which led to him writing paragraphs on how it’s the best kpop songs to exist.

(of course he likes sticker it’s chatoic just like him.)

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who slides in your dms after the small banter, especially after seeing a picture of you in the selfies channel.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who sees the “Dms open!” Sticker In your bio and uses the stan list you posted in intros to his advantage hitting you with a “yo, u lowkey got taste” eventually ending up chatting for 4 hours about your ultimate biases, kdramas, and conspiracy theories about choreo symbolism. He calls you lovey dovey nicknames like “Pretty girl,” and “cutie,” but adds a lil winky face that seems very intentional…

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who sends you memes regularly, you wake up to 60 unread messages. All memes. All chaotic. Some are thirst traps of idols with stupid little “me when I see u” captions. 

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who flirts with you all the time at first it’s subtle—he calls you his “bias wrecker.” As a joke Then it’s voice notes of him humming your fave song in a deep voice that makes you question what his whimpers sound like.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who sends you packages of snacks he’d think you’d like from japan.

“This one always makes me think of you, probably tastes as sweet as you too.. wait, oh… not like that..”

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who eventually gets close enough to call you, it’s awkward at first. It doesn't last long with his typical charisma though, his voice is deeper than expected, teasing, alluring. He calls you “Baby” jokingly, but your stomach flips. You both giggle the entire time, doing karaoke, watching different shows together and don’t sleep until your time zones force you to.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who one day hears your shaky breathing paired with small moans and stops mid sentence about a new group debut in confusion. He's talking fast, all excited until you go unusually quiet. Then he hears it. Soft, yet heavy breaths. The kind you don’t make unless you’re doing something intimate. His voice pauses mid-sentence. “Wait… are you okay?”

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who eventually catches on that his online bestfriend is playing with her sweet cunt, so he shoots the obvious question “You touchin’ yourself Y/n?” He’s shocked for half a second. Then smug, talking low. “Awh, I feel so flattered..” The teasing tone doesn’t hide how hard he’s breathing now too.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who gets cocky when you don’t answer and says “You can tell me, you don’t gotta be shy.” He’s biting back a moan, palming himself through his sweats. “You can admit it. You want me to talk you through it, don’t you?” He beams behind the screen already knowing the answer to his own question.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who when you admit it he finally takes his poor throbbing cock out of his sweats masturbating with you. The sound of your moans drives him crazy. He’s got one hand on his long veiny shaft, the other gripping the phone tighter every time your voice cracks. “Nghh, you sound so fucking pretty. Wish I could see that adorable face right now.” The call turns filthy fast—panting, loads of breathy praise, and crying out each other’s names.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who talks you through your orgasm He guides you with tender groans, “That’s it, kitten… rub your clit just like that… mmph, you close? Lemme hear it, you can be loud f’me..” And when you cum, he does too, shooting thick ribbons across his expensive keyboard; gasping your name like a prayer, hips stuttering into his fist.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who has the prettiest whimpers, so loud he hopes he doesn’t wake his parents he still lives with. His head falls back in the gaming chair, mouth parted with high-pitched whines and desperate curses he muffles himself with a hoodie sleeve. “Shittt, hahh—hope, no one heard me” But he’s a little too far gone to care anyway.

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who secretly craves having phone sex again with you. He replays your moans in his head like a broken record. Nearly texting “What are we?” But proceeds to play it cool, immediately deleting it, instead sending “Missed your voice, pretty girl. <3”

Kpop fanboy! Satoru who’s wrapped around your finger. ❤︎

Dividers/boarder creds | toastray

Note | Lmk if I should turn this into a full fic, or send a request based off of this.

I appreciate reblogs, comments, and likes, THANK YOU!!

[zepskies]

hiii lovely happy wednesday 🫶🏽:) random question while i’m on my 10 :D this kind of goes hand in hand with your coffee shop headcanons if you squint, but in your opinion what coffee shop pastry would the boys (your favorite jackles characters) choose? 🤎

if that makes sense, like I think beau would really like our dulce de leche cheese danish :p or like ben might like a jalapeño cheese bagel lmao

again I loveee your insights <3 it makes work more entertaining for sure cause then i’m thinking of your responses at random times lol 💗 + I hope you’re having a wonderful week !!🫂

Happy Wednesday, friend! 😘 Oh yay! I love your random questions, and I love coffee shop pastries. 🥐 ☕

Dulce de leche Danish sounds amaziiiiing. 😩 And thank you!! I'm flattered that you love my insights - and that my little rambles infiltrate your brain! lolol 🥰💜 Hope you're having a great week too, hun! Mine is ok so far. I have a lot coming up tomorrow, so this is a fun distraction until then! 😂

HEADCANON: Coffee Shop Pastry Orders

Dean Winchester

*snorts* You mean the human garbage disposal?

We all know Dean's not picky about food. Though since he's drinking an espresso in his coffee order headcanon, I think he'd go for something indulgent to fill his stomach, like a cheese Danish, a couple of donuts, or if they have it, a brookie. 😂

He's very happy to show it to you and Sam when he brings it over to your table, strolling over on those bowed legs. Sam, of course, wears that half amused, half judgy look of his.

"It's a cookie mashed up with a brownie, Sam. Best of both worlds."

Beau Arlen

Beau the basic latte guy needs a basic (but delicious) coffee shop confection to go with it, so I'm going to say he's into coffee cake.

He likes them crumblies on top and a nice, warm cinnamon swirl in his cake. 👌🏽

Just be warned. He's probably going to have you order him another slice of cake while he's still working on the first one.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Like Dean, this guy's not all that picky about food post-captivity. Of course he likes good food, but he's also highly indulgent in most respects.

"I like what I fucking like," as he often tells you with a smirk. That goes for food, drugs, and frisky women (of almost all ages).

That being said, since we paired him with a cold brew, he'll probably want something classic, like himself: a glazed donut or a slice of marble pound cake with that thin strip of icing on top.

However, I think he could be persuaded (by you) to order something a little adventurous. He'd be game enough to try a jalapeño cheese bagel, with hash browns, and that donut and/or slice of pound cake on the side...

And he'll probably tell them to pack him up an extra bagel for the road. 😂 🥯

Russell Shaw

Russell's another one who's highly self-indulgent lol. He ain't picky about food, that's for sure. He'll eat junk food just as easily as a five-course meal from a Michelin star restaurant.

But since he got paired with a flat white, I think he'd get the biggest cinnamon roll he can find. He'd ask if they could warm it up for him, get that icing all warm and running down the sides, sticky and sweet.

And he looks at you mischievously while he licks his fingers afterward. ✌🏼

(He's only satisfied when he makes you blush.)

AN: Do you agree with these? Got other pastry orders for these guys? 💜

I love working on these HCs every time, no matter how simple or complex the prompt is. 😂

Join My Patreon ⟡ Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories. Top-tier patrons can even send me requests!

⋆˙⟡ Get notified when more HCs drop! Follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on. 💜

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

@kazsrm67 @foxyjwls007 @luci-in-trenchcoats @lamentationsofalonelypotato @waynes-multiverse

@mostlymarvelgirl @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester

@deans-spinster-witch @sanscas @hobby27 @kaleldobrev @spnwoman

@samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28 @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean

@lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @deansbbyx @chernayawidow

@mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @0ccvltism @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @mrsjenniferwinchester

@fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378 @deanbrainrotwritings @alwaystiredandconfused

@mrlonelycat @deans-daydream @leigh70 @aylacavebear @kmc1989

@siampie @rubyvhs @winchestergirl2 @winchester-whiskey

[phneltwrites]

AO3 Stats & Notifications

One (1) person said this would be interesting so here's a post about what AO3 authors can see about their works and what they get notified for.

What authors get notified for:

comment on a fic

EDIT on a comment (some of u edit like 16 times and it is very sweet. I get an email every time)

Response to a comment

Request to join a collection (note: don't do this. collection owners have a lot of power over fic and should only be used for specific reasons and not to create a collection of fic you enjoy. that's what bookmark collections are for)

Gift

Related work notification

Daily kudos email. The daily kudos email shows all the kudos of the previous day in an order that makes sense to the ao3 database and not to human eyes.

The only bit of this that is clickable is the title of the fic. I can click into the profile of a nice user if I navigate to the fic and then go to the bottom where the kudos are displayed.

Things authors do not get notified for:

subscription to a fic or author

ending a subscription

deleting a comment

creating a bookmark

a fic view (if you visit a fic twenty times, no one knows that but your isp and your browser history and you)

Now here's what authors can see about their fic under the cut because more screenshots

The first thing an author can see is something everyone can see, and that's who left a public bookmark

If you click on the number next to bookmarks you can see this. And each username is clickable to see the other things they have bookmarked or written (side note, this is the best way to find other fic to read)

The author can also see the note a reader leaves on a public bookmark.

Please note that authors don't get a notification for this and I don't look at them (screenshot proving me a liar) so you aren't guaranteed to be seen by the author. If you like that last nice user want the author to know it stuck with them, you gotta leave a comment.

But there are also private bookmarks! And private bookmarks are, as the name sounds like, private. However. On the statistics page for each fic the author gets a little more information.

Here is the statistics page:

This can be selected to by year and the numbers will change EXCEPT user subscriptions. User subscriptions shows the current state of subscriptions. And since authors don't get a notification of number go up or down, they won't know when it's changed unless they are tracking it. Additionally there is no way to see who has subscribed. So you can subscribe to whoever you like or unsubscribe at any time and that is between you, the ao3 database, your ISP tracking your history, and your email client. But the author doesn't know. You are released from any social obligation to stay subscribed or any embarrassment you might have. Go forth.

See? Here is 2024 and it has the same number of users.

Also fun fact, the word count shows fic FINISHED in that year. I wrote a 90k fic that straddled 2024 and 2025 and the full word count for that is tracked on the 2025 page.

anyway back to info.

I can scroll down on this and get a bit more information on each fic.

Here I can see the number of people who have subscribed to a fic - but not who they are. I can also see the TOTAL NUMBER of bookmarks including private bookmarks.

Compare contrast:

The public listing shows 47 bookmarks, the statistics page listing shows 127. On average, most fics have about half of their bookmarks private.

I can't see who made those extra bookmarks, just that they exist.

Also on the statistics page the comments are shown as the number of threads instead of the total number. I always reply to comments so the thread count is a more accurate reflection of how many people left a comment.

So to sum up, what authors can see if they investigate:

username on a public bookmark and any note left

the total number of bookmarks

the total number of subscriptions to themselves right now

the number of subscriptions on a fic

hits

[ao3commentoftheday]

if you hit the limit on the number of filters you apply and you don't mind a nerdy solution

Last week sometime, I reblogged a post about AO3 filters and added on a bit about where you could find them (if you use AO3 by searching, you won't see the filtering - two different processes)

Anyway, in that post, I said:

You can add a theoretically unlimited number of tags to your exclude [filter] list, but I think it’s possible to have a list that breaks things eventually. I’ve never personally hit it? But I bet someone out there has.

Several people in the notes on that post have indicated that they've hit the limit. If you're one of those people, there might be a way to un-break things?

So basically, my understanding of the issue* is that things break because the URL gets too long. Every filter you add makes the URL longer. And filters are based on fandom names, character names, etc. So when you're filtering a lot of tags and a lot of them are really long tags, well... Things break.

How do you get shorter URLs? Use shorter versions of the tags. How do you do that? Use the tag ID number instead of the text. Lemme give you an example!

Let's say you want to filter in/out works from the My Hero Academia fandom. Well, that fandom's full text tag is:

僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia (Anime & Manga)

Instead of choosing that from the dropdown or typing it into the Search Within Results box, you could use fandom_ids: 87784924 - a much shorter way of typing in the same tag.

AO3 has fandom_ids and relationship_ids and character_ids, and you can find them all in the same place: the RSS feed button.

When you click on that button, your browser will either open up a new tab or download a file. When you look at it, you'll see a whole bunch of code, but all you need is the part of the third line:

<id>tag:archiveofourown.org,2005:/tags/87784924/feed</id>

The number after /tags/ in that line is the ID number of that specific tag on the Archive. If you clicked the RSS feed button for a fandom tag, then it's a fandom_ids number. If you clicked it on a relationship, then it's a relationship_ids number, and if you clicked it on a character, then it's a character_ids number.

There aren't any RSS feeds for additional tags.

Once you have the IDs you want, you can combine them using AND, OR, and NOT (the all-caps here is important). Joining two tags with AND means that you want to include them both. Joining two tags with OR means that you want either one of the tags or both of them together. Joining them with a NOT means that you want the first tag but not the second tag - so you're including the first and excluding the second.

You can find out more about filtering this way in this newspost from 2013 (please note: things have changed since then, that's why my instructions for finding the ID numbers look different from those ones)

Not every fandom/relationship/character has an RSS feed but this is useful for those that do! And the best part is, you can also subscribe to the feed if you want a push notification every time that tag gets a new or updated work.

*based on a half-remembered conversation from 3-4 years ago, so I could be wrong on this one

[cherrribun]

can i request the twst first years with a yuu!reader whos a pothead? :3

TWST First years x Stoner!Reader

hiphip hooray, thanks for my first ask anon 😋😋. this is super silly cus i got the notif for it when i was high lol!!

characters: first years (no ortho, sorey!)

warnings: lots of drug usage, mentions and mild descriptions of greening out

a/n: i got carried away with deuce, pardon that he got more love lol. readers gender is unspecified!

Ace Trappola

-oh he is absolutely geeked about it

-despite never having personally tried it, ace most definitely has always wanted to try it

-so when you eventually let him know about your habits, he's basically begging you to let him try it

-should you hang it over his head, he will swear to have grim stay with him so you can have nights alone

-sold!!

-he got excited and greened out first time

-you were mortified when he suddenly, like the flick of a switch, was laying flat on his back, enjoying the high, very suddenly freaking out

-you had to escort him personally to riddle to get help, who was not pleased you guys were smoking in the dorms

-after aces bad trip, he is childishly against it for a while

-anytime you smoke he covers his nose and swats at you

-after like 2 months hes rearing to try it again

-yeah he greens out again (sucker)

-but he definitely is the type to wear self proclaimed “weed merch” and calls himself a stoner, the fraud. dont worry, you thoroughly embarrass him about it

Deuce Spade

-deuce quite honestly would not like it at least initially

-poor boy is trying to overcome his delinquency, your weed smoking tempts him like fish on a lure

-he likely would've actually smoked before. easily so in his days of picking fights and skipping class

-safe to say he folds after one conversation about it

-although at first hesitant to join you, he very quickly changes his tune when he smokes again for the first time

-this boy, bless his heart, is insufferable to be around when hes high

-hes one of those people with the strand will absolutely babble non stop, giggling persistently at the way grim gets mad at him. the type to have a huge, dopey smile at all times

-he probably provokes the cat incessantly, just to absolutely lose his mind with a giggle fit

-he's absolutely takes up any offers to smoke with you, but strictly when hes got a few hours to spare

-he keeps his own stash after mooching off you (you caught him smoking your cart without permission and banned him from your room, which he simply could not have)

-good luck if he gets sativa, you wont know peace for the next few hours

Jack Howl

-being the total meathead (/lh) jack can be, upon the revelation you are a stoner, he lectures you on the health risks of smoking

-he would be no fun, and would likely get upset if you smoked around him in fear he wouldn’t be able to qualify for spell drive!

-maybe even gets to the point where he wants you to stop, going far enough to find your cart/stash and flushing it

-rude ass bitch

-you probably got into it with him when this happened, a very long argument ensuing

-eventually, he comes to an agreement to simply not be around you when you’re actively inhaling smoke

-hes got to take time to learn that weed wont kill you, and isn't anything like a strong drug

-dont get your hopes up for him to smoke with you ever, he absolutely will not. sorry jack nation

Sebek Zigvolt

-sebek is a bit of an interesting case

-he probably discovered your smoking habits before you decided to tell him

-he most definitely views smoking as a lesser human thing, and turns his nose up at such actions

-he probably gets into a bad mood when you smoke at first

-turning his nose up, and making a little bit of a scene as he walks away, grumbling about inferior humans

-lilia changes his attitude real fast

-he got a scolding and is sent back to you like a kid post tantrum

-after this little interaction, he doesn't really even bat an eye when you smoke around him

-sebeks a bit of a weirdo, and would honestly enjoy the smell of the weed as long as its not one of those gross flavored kinds

-i dont think he could ever bring himself to smoke, hes got too much pride to lower himself to being fully human

-but he definitely likes how you get so affectionate, laying on his lap, giggling when he enters the room

-hes alot more whipped than one might think, hes just got walls higher than the sky

Epel Felmier

-epel is a bit naive to weed, not that he doesn't know what it is or anything, he just never really thinks about things like that

-pomefiore kids are much more busy with. idk, makeup

-when you start actively smoking around him, his interest is piqued

-he observes you, interested in how you relax, and the amount of food you can shovel down your throat

-and of course, he wonders

-epel will ask questions, wanting to know why you love smoking so much

-you tell him to just try it

-and boy oh boy, he absolutely loves it

-hes a sleepy high, absolutely knocking tf out when he first smokes. the deepest sleep hes ever experienced

-when he wakes up the next morning, he enthusiastically lets you know he gets it now

-don't imagine hes a stoner, persay, he would be a more party smoker. but the party is you. so, he smokes a good amount

-he can often be found dozing on you while you're both high, some bad tv playing in the background, while you devour snacks

-yeah, hes crazy down with it

[deldaydreams]

Mafia au/Good luck while running away from mafia part 6

Intro, part 0.5 , part 1, part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5

Notes: So close to the ending. I am going to post next part when it gets enough interactions. As for the Otome Au I will post the Octavinelle part in two weeks. I hope you enjoy it.

Warning: Yandere stuff, gender-neutral reader, mentions of murder and death, English is not my first language be aware of that.

Taglist: @morokumi , @lorkai , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine , @h3apm3ch4n151m @burntwolf25 , @lilyalone , @juliechi , @noemiaaomi , @stingywiththeirusername , @kchan3s , @aryuunachigiri , @sxftiebee , @lucid-stories , @literallyjustidiashroud , @roseapov , @serenity-loves-red , @randomlyappearingartist I tried to tag everyone but some tags didn’t work sorry for that.

-

“Don’t you think the Boss is a bit strange? I mean I’ve only seen him a few times but he doesn’t look like a boss at all.”

The red-haired Heartslabyul rookie asked. It was lunch break and you were sitting in a café with the rookies.

“Indeed. The way he talks and acts is nothing like I imagined.” The lilac-haired rookie assassin agreed. You chuckled. Despite being his right-hand man, sometimes even you couldn’t understand how Crowley managed to become the boss.

“What did you expect?” you asked.

“Tougher? Cooler?” You laughed to their answers . They were right.

While the conversation continued, you got a notification on your phone and said goodbye to the rookies and got up from the table.

You knocked on the door of the main headquarters meeting room and went inside. Crowley was leaning back in the boss chair at the head of the table, drinking tea.

“Oh, you’re here, sit down.”

He gestured for you to sit down at one of the chairs.It always seemed strange to you. Even though there were seven executive in organization, there were only eight directors at the table. A bouquet of white lilies was placed on the extra chair.

“You wanted me.”

You sat down in the Heartslabyul chair to Crowley’s left. Your masked boss smiled.

“I just wanted to chat a little. You know, today is a special day. Today…is the day you completed your first mission and joined the mafia.” He looked at the lilies and then at you. His voice was sad. You nodded.

“Yes sir.”

“Tell me Y/n…how was your first mission?”

You were confused. Crowley had asked you that question before. Many times. And you gave the same answer again.

“The target was unarmed. Or rather, he dropped his weapon on the ground in front of my eyes and wanted to hug me-“

“Okay, no need to continue.” He looked at the lilies sadly.

“…Y/n, I raised you. You are like my own child to me. You know that.”

You nodded. It was true that he had taken you from the orphanage when you were little and raised you.

“Life can do things you can’t predict. You never know what the future holds for you. I’ve done a lot to survive in this organization. You understand?”

It’s the same thing every year. Every year, Crowley would call you into this room today, and for what felt like hours, he would speak to you in this strange and uncharacteristic way. Like he was confessing his sins…

“You are loyal to me. My right-hand man. My most trusted man…”

- Previous boss’s timeline

“Crowley…”

A sick old man in bed called out to the man standing next to him in the chair. His voice was dry and weak. His narrow eyes were tired and full of hatred.

“Yes boss,”

“Haven’t you destroyed the Royal Sword yet! Destroy it!”

The old man started shouting again, as if he were crazy. The man sitting on chair smiled. He seemed quite used to this situation. He stood up and leaned over to the man lying on the bed. The man in the bed’s screams stopped. The white sheets were stained red.

“Ah, finally. He’s been going through a lot of dementia lately. If I had waited a little longer, I was sure I would have lost my hearing. Don’t you think so Crewel?”

Crowley turned to the assassin standing right by the door. Crewel’s face was unreadable, but Crowley smiled understandingly.

“It was bound to happen eventually. It’s just a matter of timing and patience. And don’t tell me you’re sorry. I mean, he’s been going through a lot of dementia for the last year and a half.”

He waved his hand in the air.

“I will inform the other executives of the death in a few hours. Have the body cleaned. I must prepare a funeral worthy of our dear old boss. I will see you tonight.”

The masked executive put on his coat and left the room.

-

“What is this?” Savanaclaw’s new executive Ashton Vargas slammed his hand on the table.

The first extraordinary executive meeting was being held since the tragic sudden death of the former boss. The subject was the treason accusation of the 8th Division Ramshackle executive– code name Blade.

“Apparently, Blade, who has been supposedly ‘on a mission’ for a long time, was working for Royal Sword.” Heartslabyul executive Trein explained the subject while sipping his tea.

“How is this possible? He was the boss’s right-hand man. He was his heir.” Ashton Vargas read the documents over and over in disbelief.

“According to the documents, a large amount of money was transferred to the Ramshackle executive’s bank accounts. Why didn’t Octavinelle mention this?”

Crowley, executive of Diasomnia, asked.

“Because there was no such gap-”

“Or you didn’t notice it.”

“I don’t believe it. There was no reason, and these documents, photos, audio recordings… how do we know if they are fake? I would also like to point out that we don’t know their sources. Blade had many enemies.” The Pomefiore executive spoke up. He said his last sentence while looking specifically at Crowley. The room was in complete chaos.

“Night Raven needs a boss. We don’t know where Blade is. The charges against him are too serious to be taken lightly. If Blade is truly a traitor-”

The Scarabia executive was interrupted by Octavinelle.

“But it’s still not certain. There’s also the possibility of a conspiracy. We must wait until Ignihyde verifies the documents. We cannot take the choice of a new boss lightly.”

As the six executive argued among themselves, Ignihyde finally raised his hand to speak and made the expected statement.

“Ignihyde…confirms the truth of the documents.” The Ignihyde executive spoke.

With Ignihyde's approval, a brief silence fell over the room...

-

“…That’s it for today. Thank you for attending the meeting.”

The new masked Boss ended the meeting with a smile. All the executives began to leave the room one by one.

“Crewel, sit down. How about we have a chat?”

The new Pomefiore executive paused. He turned to the masked man. He had a strange expression on his face. It was obvious that he didn’t want to sit down, but he sat back down in his chair.

“That face…You’ve been wearing that face a lot lately, huh? When the Boss died, when I made you an executive…”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

The masked man smiled.

“Crewel, how’s the mission I gave you going? Have you found him?”

Crowley’s question caused a brief silence.

“…No. I haven’t found him yet.”

His voice was normal. However, he couldn’t look him in the face when he answered.

“I see… By the way, we’re going to adopt a child today.”

“What?”

Crewel looked at Crowley in surprise. He hadn’t expected to hear something like this all of a sudden.

“Yes. The child you’ve been seeing a lot lately. The child you’ve been secretly visiting behind my back.”

Crewel clasped his hands together under the table in fear. The events of the last six months had made him very nervous about what Crowley could do.

“Don’t get nervous like that. I’ve been visiting that kid for the last few months, and aren’t they cute, I must say? I also think they have potential. After all, they are from his blood.”

Crowley stood up and patted Crewel on the shoulder.

“We’ll be out in a few hours. Okay?”

Then he left Crewel alone in the room…

“You should have guessed as much.”

Divus raised his head. Heartslabyul’s executive Mozus Trein was standing in front of the door , looking all serious. The older executive walked over to him and sighed.

“When the previous boss made him his heir, it was clear what would happen. You should have made a choice back then. You’re lucky he left you alive, though.”

The younger executive looked at the older executive with pain. He shook his head slightly in denial.

“I…”

“When the previous boss went crazy and fell into his sickbed, Crowley gradually took control of the entire mafia. You either stood by him or died. You saw it , after the previous boss died , executives of Pomefiore and Octavinelle…Ramshackle was completely destroyed. If you want that child to live, come to your senses. Swear your loyalty to Crowley and forget about him.”

- Current timeline

Silence… It had been about an hour since you escaped from Pomefiore. The road was completely empty. There was only your breathing and the sound of the vehicle. Apart from your tense and anxious heartbeat, it could be called a very calm drive…

You turned down the crackling sound of the radio that suddenly increased slightly. The navigation suddenly changed the route a few times. At first, you didn’t think much about it since you thought you were in an area with no internet connection, but something didn’t feel right. The vehicle suddenly accelerated beyond your control. Yes, something was really wrong. While you were trying to understand what was happening, the vehicle started to slow down. When the steering wheel started to move on its own, you tried to control it, but the vehicle changed lanes. You had lost control of the vehicle.

“Ahem. Sound control one two. Y/n-shii, can you hear my voice clearly?”

Idia Shroud. Everything had settled into place now.

“It seems you do.”

You tried to regain control of the vehicle, but it was useless.

“Don’t bother. No matter what you do, you can’t regain control.”

The Ignihyde executive chuckled at your futile efforts. You couldn’t see him, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that his face was currently enchanted with pleasure.

“I must be lucky. I made a slight change in plans when I realized that the vehicle you were in when you escaped from Pomefiore was one of the newer models produced by S.T.Y.X. Normally, I would have caught you in a different way, but this is more comfortable and safe.”

You didn’t want to waste time talking. You had to think of something fast. You tried to unbuckle your seat belt, but it was stuck.

“What are you doing?”

When you finally got rid of your seat belt, you reached into the back seat and grabbed your gun. You tried to roll up the windows, but as you expected, they wouldn’t open.

“I don’t recommend that, Y/n-shii. If you break even one of the windows, I’m giving you a firm warning that my drones outside will intervene.”

You looked out the window. He was right. You were trapped in this vehicle.

“Now that you’ve given up, how about we chat a bit? We have a long way to go.”

“What are we going to chat about?”

You leaned back on the couch. You had to think of something. You couldn’t use your phone. If you did, Idia would definitely intervene.

“Don’t say that. I-“

“You were the one who prepared the false documents about me. Or rather, you were one of the ones who prepared them. What would I have to talk to you about?”

“You were the one who first tried to leave the Organization.”

“I did it because you betrayed me! To survive!”

“You’re lying even now, Y/n-shii. We would never hurt you. If we really wanted to, you would be dead by now.”

He was right. If they had, they would have finished you off long ago. You clenched your teeth in anger.

“But it’s okay, I forgive you. When I take you back to the Organization, we will decide on your punishment. Well, as the person who caught you, I will have the most influence on the decision.”

You scoffed. Now it was clear why they were working separately on purpose.

“Don’t worry, I would never wish you harm. You were truly precious to me. And you still are.”

Idia truly said these words sincerely. Not to get on your nerves. You were precious to him. You used to visit him almost every day, cook for him, play games with him, listen to even the most absurd things he told you, and scold him while taking care of him. Even though you weren’t his completely , your old life was perfect for Idia. However, you tried to leave him. He prepared those documents against you with the others in order to hold on to that life, even though he didn’t want it. Then you ran away…

Idia sighed. You two couldn’t be completely the same anymore, but you would have plenty of time to fix everything after he took you back.

“By the way, how did you escape from Octavinelle? I couldn’t find the camera footage. Azul swore that he caught you.”

Wait a minute. Didn’t they know that Sam helped you that day? You didn’t answer.

“Whatever Ack-“

Idia’s voice suddenly stopped. After a minute of silence a voice came.

“Ignihyde has withdrawn.”

The voice was familiar. Crewel Sensei!

“You will regain control now.”

The voice stopped before you could respond. You had regained control.

.

.

.

The former executive left the building after destroying all evidence of his involvement. Then dialed that number.

“I did as you said. You better keep your promise.”

[apartmentsmoke]

that poll going around about which character would be most likely to have a tumblr is making me think about an AU where Buck - Evan - joins tumblr while roadtripping around, after a woman he spends a couple nights with tell him about it

after first, he posts photos he's taken during his travels, occasionally makes text posts about how he's feeling, and then he discovers the hornier parts of the site and starts contributing

and in LA, starting to explore his own sexuality, is one Tommy Kinard, who googles and googles and this website seems like no one uses it and it's pretty anonymous, and unlike the dating apps there's no expectations. so he makes an account

he starts going through a few tags and he discovers Evan's account, and he's enthralled by the content Buck posts: he seems so free. he devours all of the content Evan has on his blog. eventually Tommy works up the courage to comment on a few of Evan's travel photo posts and then, after he's had a few interactions with him, likes some of Evan's more risque ones

Evan's s flattered by the attention and how sikorsky1942 likes every part of his blog because usually people are just there for one thing, and they start chatting

when they talk sikorsky doesn't mention Evan's other photos, but he keeps liking them and Evan keeps posting them and if there's ever one where he doesn't, Evan finds himself weirdly disappointed

there's one time - when Evan posts a video of himself jacking off, only a few seconds long, and sikorsky messages him "I wish I was there" and Evan jumps on it, asks what he would do

"I'd touch you. Learn what you like. I want to hear you."

Evan sends him another video, makes sure to capture audio this time, because this guy is his friend and the idea of someone learning him - learning his body - he's really into that - wants to moan sikorsky's name but realizes he doesn't know it - maybe one day

but sikorsky doesn't respond and Evan bullies the rejection he feels back down his throat, especially when he does come back a day later with a message that doesn't acknowledge the video at all. maybe sikorsky didn't like what he heard. Evan still gets to keep his friend

usually sikorsky speaks in the vaguest terms, couches a lot of his stuff in hypotheticals especially when it comes to his personal life, but Evan learns a few things. like how sikorsky likes helicopters - his username is a reference - and he's funny, can cheer Evan up after a bad day. and, the one time that Evan coaxes him into sharing a photo - no face required - ridiculously built, Evan wishes he had those abs, and asks how sikorsky got them. repeats sikorsky's words back to him, from a month ago - "damn I'd touch you"

it's a couple days before sikorsky answers and Evan wonders if he scared him off but then he gets the notification. two, actually

the first saying "I'm a firefighter. In LA."

and then, a few hours later when Evan was still sleeping (at 4 am in LA, he did the math) - "Maybe we could meet up if you're ever nearby."

and Evan steers the Jeep towards LA

[ret1cent]

on my mind

josh dun x fem reader

you wanted my heart but i just liked your tattoos poured it down, so i poured it down with you

and now i don’t understand why i got you on my mind?

warnings: smut, porn with a plot, smoking (weed), slight drinking, language, oral (fem receiving), face riding, penetration, josh is very much a giver in this, unprotected sex (be safe y’all don’t do that), slight praise kink, fluffy ending, proofread very lightly

WC: 7,000+

a/n: i wrote this very casually since i’m putting my energy into my main series right now, but i got this idea so i wanted to write it :) excuse any grammar or spelling errors it’s not proofread perfectly! this is the first smut i’ve written in a long time so just keep that in mind lol :p also i was young during this era of tumblr so excuse me if i get any terminology or vibes wrong lmao

summary: it’s 2014 and you’re tumblr famous. after he recently joined the platform, josh dun of twenty one pilots follows you. you aren’t quite sure who he is at first, with only slight knowledge about the band. but as you get to chat and know each other more he invites you to a show and to get a drink after, but it’s never just a drink is it?

i sit at my desk on call with my friend sam, the fairy lights strung across the wall and the glow of the computer screen being the only sources of light. i scroll through my tumblr as we chat, scrolling through some notifications and replying to a few notes.

i had somewhat of a reputation of the platform, some even referring to me as tumblr famous. i was well known on the more grunge side of things, posting aesthetic photography of record stores, ciggerates with edgy lryics on them, you get the gist. but i also occasionally posted pictures of myself, mostly to show off cute outfits or new hair colors, but i was pretty insecure about posting myself. the reason i had been on the phone with sam was actually because she had spurred me on to post a slightly suggestive picture of myself and i needed mental support. it was of me in a small tank, a black skater skirt with black matching thigh highs and chokers adorned on my neck as i lay on my side in my bed. in it my face rested against my hand, my thumb resting against my parted lips. i had edited an array of emoji around me that matched the color tones of the photo in a satisfying way.

the post had done numbers, but now i unfortunately had to deal with the anxiety of being this widely perceived.

“ughh why did i post it.” i groan, burying my face in my hands.

“dude stop you look so hot!” sam defends the photo. “people are loving it, you have no reason to worry.” she soothes me.

sam was somewhat of a life coach when it came to my insecurities and about posting myself like this. she often was the only reason i posted pictures i had been planning to keep to myself, she was my number one hype man and i was beyond grateful to have her in my life. i just didn’t fully appreciate that aspect of her right in the moment of clarity after a post starts getting attention.

i scroll through my notifications, not fully paying attention until i saw i had gotten a new follower a few days ago. that itself wasn’t an abnormal occurrence, i just felt strangely drawn to the profile. i scroll down and see this person had liked multiple of my posts before following, and had just liked my recent one. i glance at the username, it reading stillstreet. i click on the profile and look at the users profile picture. huh, he was kind of cute… he didn’t have his name on his blog though, just an x files reference. that’s nerdy, i like it. he had a lot of followers, maybe he was famous for something?

i skim through his posts and reblogs, he seemed sweet and had a sense of humor that reminded me of my own. when i looked further i saw pictures posted of him at the drums playing shows. so he was an artist?

“hey sam, do you know a blog called stillstreet?” i ask curiously.

“uh yeah durr, that’s josh dun!” she says, as if it was an obvious fact.

“who?”

“OH MY GOD i’ve talked about him before!” she complains.

“sam you talk about a minimum of 50 dudes you think are hot a day, i lose track sometimes.” i defend myself and she goes silent.

“ok i honestly can’t argue with that but he’s from twenty one pilots! don’t you know them?”

oh yeah, i knew some of their songs. i heard car radio on playing on the alt rock station often and had a few of their songs liked. people on tumblr also posted about them quite a bit, i just never paid attention enough to know the people behind the band.

“oh that’s who he is?” i ask, shocked. “he just followed me.” i say in confusion, squinting as i went through more of his posts.

“ok haha very funny, i see what you were trying to do now.” sam says unamused, as if she just uncovered some prank i was pulling on her,

“i’m not lying!”

“prove it!” sam says and i turn my camera to my laptop, going to my notfications and scrolling down the one stating that he had followed me.

“OH MY GOD!” sam shouts and i cover my ears, my volume was set all the way up due to her voice being quiet before, as i didn’t expect her to be yelling at any point.

“sam my ears!”

“you have to do something about this oh my god.” she says in disbelief, ignoring my complaint.

“what do you mean ‘do something’, all he did was follow me!” i say with a laugh.

“you don’t know that, you never check your messages!” she argues. that was true, i typically tried to avoid it, as they tended to be a cesspool sometimes.

“ok fine, if it makes you happy.” i say with a roll of my eyes, clicking to message him, expecting to prove sam wrong. to my disbelief, she was right. he did message me. i go silent.

“oh my god… he messaged me.”

“WHAT DID HE SAY?” she shouts again.

“oh my god im turning my volume down now.” i say and then focus to read the message.

stillstreet:hey! sorry to randomly message you like this, i just wanted to say i like your posts a lot, idk if that’s weird or not…

i read the message back to sam, slightly giggling at his obvious anxiety in the message, it was sweet.

“you need to respond back like now.”

“and say what!”

“say oh my gosh thanks! can we fuck?” sam says in an extremely girly voice that sounded nothing like my own.

“SAM stop!”

“i’m sorry he’s hot i would so not be able to control myself.” she whines. “plus if he’s messaging you like that there’s a chance that might be his intention.” she insinuates.

“oh please! all he said was that my posts are cool…”

“yeah he’s trying to start conversation because he saw your posts and thought you were sexy!”

“ok well let me see what’s actually going on.” i say, trying to come up with a reply in my head.

do i just thank him? no the conversation could die there. i had to continue with a question.

(y/n):thank you so much, i really appreciate it. :) how’d you find me?

i ask him, trying to play it cool. i continue conversation with sam, mostly her raving to me about josh dun and twenty one pilots until he replied again.

“ok hold on, he responded.” i say, pausing our conversation to read the message to her.

stillstreet:i saw your photography when i was scrolling through some tags. i checked out your blog since i liked your style and i got to see more of you and your own personal style too and just decided i liked it. you seem like a cool girl :)

“you seem like a cool girl?!” sam repeats back dramatically. “oh i’m wet!”

“SAM oh my god calm yourself!” i scold her, despite the fact i felt myself flush at his words. “jeez you are going crazy over this man i should just send him over to you at this point.” i joke.

“no! you are the chosen one and i respect that, but if you fuck him you are required to give me every detail so i can live vicariously through you.” she says and i roll my eyes with a smile, giving up on stopping her from being vulgar. i pause, trying to think of a suitable response. “i’ll at least give you a cameo in our conversation.” i say to her playfully, starting to type my response.

“josh dun is gonna know i exist? oh my god i could die.” she says, estatic.

(y/n):thank you! <3 yeah photography used to be the only main thing on this blog, i’m a little insecure about posting myself sometimes but my friend sam has been my hype woman for me recently

i responded. maybe i was over sharing … i start to worry but josh responds quickly.

stillstreet:really? well i’m glad you have her, i’m happy to be able to see you. not to be too straightforward but you’re really pretty. i’m really surprised you’re insecure about posting.

my stomach swirls as i read the message in my head.

“(y/n)! what did he say?” sam says, pulling me out of my head. i read the message back to her in disbelief.

“oh my god.” she says, covering her hand with her mouth. (y/n) he wants you…”

i feel my heart beat speed up. this cute band member liked me? i decide to be chill about it, but also let him know i was interested.

(y/n):why thank you, i have to say you aren’t too bad looking yourself ;)

i immediately close my laptop in fear of what he would respond with, maybe that was too bold. “sam distract me!” i say, anxiously fidgeting with my hands.

“ok! let me send you more pictures of your man so you can see what you’re working with.” she says and sends me a bunch of picture’s over imessage. i open the notification, scrolling through them.

“woah, holy shit…” i say, admiring josh’s messy hair, his prominent arm muscle’s and abs, his sweat slicked skin and hair during shows, a mask he would wear that he still looked oddly sexy in, and especially his tattoos. the way the beautiful patchwork spotted across his skin lied just right on his toned arm.

“i know!” sam says, affirming his attractiveness. “his hair’s pink right now it’s soo cute.”

i reopen my laptop to see that josh had responded to me again.

stillstreet: oh really? maybe we should get to know each other more then :)

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

for the rest of that night, me and josh continued conversation getting to know more about each other. we talked about everything, our childhoods, our favorite music, shows and movies. as we got to know each other more over the next few days we even got into deeper topics, such as some of the struggles we face in our personal lives. i’ve never felt so easily connected with someone before, something about him just drew me in. he just got me. i tried not to let myself not get too attached despite this fact, if it was just a hookup he was looking for i would be ok with that. he’s an attractive man and it’s not something i would end up regretting. i lie in bed, staring up at my ceiling until i get a notification. i check it and smile when i see that josh had messaged me.

stillstreet: good morning :)

(y/n):hey! what’s up?

stillstreet: i wanted to ask you something actually

my stomach swirls in anticipation. what was there to ask? was he going to ask to hookup? was he going to ask what it was we were doing? was he going to end whatever it was we had going on?

(y/n):of course, shoot.

stillstreet: well i know that you had mentioned that you live in LA, me and tyler are on tour right now and we’re playing there in a few days. i was wondering if you maybe wanted to come to the show? only if you want to of course

(y/n):yes! i’d love that. not to push my luck but can my friend sam maybe come along? she’ll leave us alone i promise lmao

stillstreet: of course! and don’t even worry about it, i’d love to meet her too. i’ll talk to my crew and get you both backstage passes so you can watch the show comfortably.

(y/n):why thank you sir, i feel like royalty

stillstreet: to me you are!

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

of course when i told sam about the news she was beside herself.

“(y/n) have i told you how much i love you?” sam asks, sitting at the vanity in my room to do her makeup for the show.

“yes frequently and ironically enough it’s been ever since i told you about the tickets!” i say jokingly, sifting through the hangers in my closet, at a loss for what to wear. shirts and tanks were thrown all across the room.

“sam what do i wear?” i groan and she looks over at me.

“aren’t you literally like internet famous for always knowing that?” she asks playfully and i roll my eyes.

“now i wouldn’t say that…”

“you’re too humble for the fact that we’re literally getting ready to go backstage for a twenty one pilots show because the josh dun wants to fuck you.”

“stop saying he wants to fuck me!”

“i’ll stop once you prove me wrong!” she says and goes back to her makeup. “but if i were you i would be bragging my ass off about this.”

i smile and shake my head. “yes i know you would. you’re very predictable in that sense. ok now help me! what do people usually wear to their shows?”

“uhh i don’t know i’ve actually never been to one, but their aesthetic has a lot of blue and red because of their latest album and they also wear skeleton hoodies and ski masks often if that gives you any inspiration.”

“wait… yeah that actually helps a lot.” i say after i get an idea, going to the drawer that holds my tanks and grabbing the black mesh tank i had with skeleton bones on it. i grab a black lace bralette to wear underneath it, an oversized dark blue deinem jacket adorned with rips, and my black pleated skater skirt and thigh highs i wore in my most recent post. i sort through the jewelry on my jewelry tray and grab a blue transparent choker and a red transparent choker.

“oh that’s cute!” sam shouts after i put the outfit on.

“you really think? it’s not doing too much?”

“babe it’s doing just enough he won’t be able to keep his hands off you.” sam says and my stomach swirls at the thought.

i finish the look with a dark matte makeup look, and put my creepers on before heading out to the car with sam to leave for the show.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

me and sam were leaning against the car outside the venue. the sky still gloomy after the aftermath of rain earlier in the day and the smell of damp asphalt was lingering in the air. i hold myself with my arms, slightly shivering.

“maybe this outfit wasn’t the best idea.” i say, hugging myself even tighter as a chilling wind blew.

“you look cute! it’s worth it.” she says, focused on fishing the little container that held the joint we planned to smoke out of her purse. we had no desire to get our buzz from 20 dollar seltzers in the venue and we were both undeniably anxious about going backstage for our own reasons. it was just a little something to take the edge off.

she takes it out of the container, lighting it as her hands slightly tremble. “are you also so incredibly nervous or is it just me?” sam asks, taking a puff and then handing it over to me.

“fuck yeah i am… i hope he likes me in person too.” i say worriedly, taking a hit and passing it back to her.

“at least you’ve already talked to josh, i’m trying to think of like a million things i could say to him and tyler but none of them sound right… i hope it’s not awkward.”

“i’m sure it’ll be fine, they’ll probably be distracted setting up for the show anyway.” i say nervously, taking another puff and sam takes out her camera.

“photo op!” she says taking a picture of me blowing out the smoke and i roll my eyes with a smile.

“thank you my little photographer.” i say playfully.

the two of us finish smoking and start walking to the side entrance that josh told me to go to. as i walk i start to feel the pleasant lightness of the joint, putting a little bit of my nervousness at ease. we were met with a tall, burly slightly intimidating looking security guard.

“hi um our names should be on the list to get it.” i say timidly.

“names?”

i give him our full names and he nods, opening the door for us, revealing two other security guards that led us to the backstage.

as we walked down the dark hall, the sounds of distant rustling and thudding come into earshot as we got closer.

“what if this is just a setup for us to be murdered?” sam asks and i elbow her. “what! this is kinda scary…” she whispers.

but the feeling of unease was lifted when the security guards open the doors for us, leading us to the backstage which was warmly let and filled with crew mates conversing and setting up for the show. amongst the crew mates scattered around were josh and tyler standing in the corner immersed in conversation. the security guards lead us to them and a wave of anxiety washes over me as the boys look up at the two of us. i make eye contact with josh and his eyes light up, him flashing me a warm smile.

“these are your girls right?” one security guard asks and josh slightly chuckles at the wording.

“yeah they are, thank you man.” josh says and the security guard walks away with a nod.

the four of us all stand together, a silence quickly interrupted by giggles, all of us aware of the awkwardness of the situation. this was clearly a new thing for them, which made me feel special in a way. it was nice to know josh wasn’t just always bringing girls backstage, he didn’t seem like the type.

“hi, im tyler nice to meet you guys.” the brunette says kindly, shaking sam and i’s hands.

“i’m (y/n).” i say with a smile and tyler chuckles.

“oh i know this dude hasn’t shut up about you.” tyler says while pointing at his friend, josh smacking his arm and then glaring. “hey i told you i was going to embarrass you man.” tyler says, putting his hands up in defense.

“it feels like my dad’s meeting my girlfriend on prom night.” josh jokes and we all giggle.

sam gets caught up in conversation with tyler about the boy’s music, perfectly toeing the line between fan girl and casual fan. she clearly put a lot of thought into how to act in this situation. josh steps closer to me as sam and tyler were immersed in their own world, leaving the two of us alone.

“i feel like i haven’t properly said hello to you yet.” he says apologetically with a chuckle, then holding his arms out for a hug and i quickly accept it, almost feeling dizzy as my hands wrap around his strong back.

“you guys have fun before this?” josh asks jokingly after he pulls away, picking up the faint scent of weed mixed with the sweet perfume on my clothes.

i laugh softly, embarrassed that this was his first impression of me. “i’m sorry i probably smell like a joint…” i say apologetically, my face hidden in my hands.

“no don’t apologize it’s not too much it smells nice- you smell nice sorry this sounds creepy.” he rushes out, the two of us laughing.

“no it’s not, it’s sweet.” i say, looking at him with a smile and fully taking in his messy pink hair, his friendly hazel eyes, his pink lips and his cute nose ring. not the mention the muscle tank he was wearing that left no room for imagination… something about those damn tattoos really just got me.

he seemed to be analyzing me the same way, his eyes momentarily flicking downwards then upwards again to meet my gaze. “wow, you’re even prettier in person.” he says in a soft disbelief.

i flush softy, my stomach doing somersaults at his words. “why thank you, i could say the same for you sir.” i say and he smiles widely.

“you’re too sweet.”

the two of us walk around the backstage area conversing as josh prepares for the show.

“do you ever get nervous before these things?” i ask, slightly glancing at him as he walks besides me.

“honestly yeah. it’s more before we go on stage thoigh, no matter how many shows i’ve played and how much bigger the venues have gotten i always get that anxious feeling in my stomach. but when i get up there and start playing it all goes away, it feels like im in a trance honestly.” he says and i smile at him admiringly, taking in his passion for his art. he glances over at me, noticing my silence.

“sorry i’m rambling…”

“no no i was just… admiring.” i admit with an embarrassed chuckle. “it’s really cool how passionate you are, it’s inspiring.” i say and he smiles.

“really?”

“really.” i say, the two of us facing each other, a silence lingering as we gazed into each others eyes. he looks down at me, shyly brining his hand up to my face and slightly running his thumb across my jaw, me leaning into the touch.

“josh we’re doing the last sound checks right now.” tyler’s sudden voice startles me out of my hypnotized state. i look over and tyler smiles apologetically, seeing that he had interrupted a moment between us.

“alright, coming!” he replies to him and looks back to me. “i’m sorry, i have to go now.” josh says sadly and reaches out his hand to mine and i take it. “are we still on for drinks after the show?” josh asks with hope.

“of course.” i say with a smile, looking down at our intertwined hands.

“i’m really glad.” he says, squeezing my hand affectionately before he lets go and walks over to meet tyler. “enjoy the show.” josh says looking back at me over his shoulder with a subtle wink.

i smile to myself as he walks away, letting out a startled yelp when i suddenly felt a pair of hands on my shoulders.

“oh my god you guys are so cute!” sam gushes, slightly shaking me.

“sam you scared the shit out of me!”

“were you guys gonna kiss? oh my god the tension was crazzyy!” she says, ignoring my comment.

“wait you were watching us?”

“uh duh i found a hiding spot and i needed to see how things were going with you two!”

“you creep!” i say and slightly shove her, her sticking her tongue out in retaliation.

“were you flirting with tyler?” i joke and she shakes her head.

“nahh he has a girlfriend i’m not that kinda girl, but i did kinda hit it off with one of the crew members.” she says and i laugh.

“damn girl you had a whole agenda for like the hour i was gone!”

“hey i had to entertain myself somehow while you and josh have been away getting all lovey dovey!”

i attempt to front annoyance but couldn’t even hide how happy i was about all of this, a smile slowly growing on my face. sam catches on and playfully nudges me.

“this is a good night huh?” she asks with a smile.

── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ── ── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──

the show was amazing. i didn’t know what to expect from just the two of them, but the amount of energy they had completely made up for the lack of other members. the songs were beautiful and josh’s drumming was phenomenal. something about him when he was performing was so enigmatic. the way he seemed to get lost in the beat, the way his sweat slicked skin glistened under the glowing lights, the way he couldn’t help but smile when the crowd cheered his name. he would occasionally look back at me, flashing a smile when he had the chance. it made me feel a type of way i hadn’t felt before.

to say sam enjoyed the show was an understatement. the whole time she was jumping and yelling the lyrics, dancing and making me dance with her against my will. i was overjoyed by the fact that i got to give her this experience while also having my own special experience with josh. the two of us had parted ways when me and josh had left to get drinks, her also leaving with the crew member she’d been telling me about.

“hey we’re both getting lucky tonight!” she had cheered to me, which of course earned her an eye roll.

now, josh and i sat at the counter of a hip bar downtown, led signs reflecting a red shine on our faces and the sound of artic monkeys playing lightly from a jukebox in the background. i sip on a blackberry-basil martini, the sweetness mixing pleasantly with the slight burn of the alcohol.

“that show was amazing, i’ve never seen anything like that.” i say to josh, trying not to gush too much.

he smiles sheepishly, taking a small sip of his drink. “thank you, that really means a lot coming from you.” he says genuinely.

“just seeing you play up there too i don’t know your energy is just… magnetic.” i admit and he tilts his head in interest, his eyes locking with mine as he leans forward slightly.

“how so?” he asks teasingly, his pearly teeth slightly revealed as he chuckles softly.

“i don’t knowww.” i drag out, embarrassed and letting out a slight laugh, hoping he’d just drop the topic.

“aw come on don’t get all shy on me.” he says, playfully nudging my arm.

“you’re just.. the way you get so lost in the drums.. it’s like you’re on another planet. and the way you glow under the lights it’s like you’re an angel or something.” i say with a slight giggle, him softly laughing too. “yeah… i don’t know it’s just something about.. sorry never mind this it weird of me.” i stop myself, embarrassed

“what?” he asks playfully. “c’mon you can say it.” he says, his light demeanor spurring me on to continue.

“the way you play with such relish, the way you tilt your head back and take everything in i…” i start trailing off, slightly flushing as i felt his intent gaze on me. “i’m trying to find an artsy way to say this but i can’t. it’s just really fucking hot.” i admit, the slight buzz from this drink and my previous one giving me a boost of confidence.

i watch a slight smirk form on his pink lips as he looks at me, me tilting my head away in embarrassment.

“really?” he asks softly

“really.” i admit, meeting his gaze, my face still flushed.

he chuckles, bringing a hand to my cheek briefly to stroke the warm skin streaked with a soft pink. “you’re really cute you know that?” he asks and i shake my head in response.

“no, really.” he says, matching my previous response, his pupils slightly dilating as we hold the eye contact.

my whole body starts to feel warm, and all the sudden the need to jump his bones started to feel irresistible.

“hey… you don’t have to say yes i completely understand if you’re not comfortable with this but.. me and tyler are staying at a hotel nearby and i have a room alone tonight. would you maybe wanna… spend the night?” he asks gently, seeming the have the exact same thoughts running through his mind as i did.

“yes, that sounds great…” i reply, quickly catching onto what he was insinuating.

after he pays the tab the two of us walk to the hotel hand in hand, his thumb stroking my hand lightly as the sounds of the city droned on in the background. we walk in silence, not an uncomfortable silence, but one that held an air of anticipation.

after we had walked into the lobby, the pace of our walk had slightly picked up, almost speed walking as we went down the hall leading to his room. he lets go of my hand to swipe his key card and lets us in, quickly shutting the door behind us. almost immediately, his hands found my waist and i grabbed onto his shoulder and the back of his neck, leaning him into me so our lips touched.

he quickly reacts, matching the pace of my lips, his lips soft against my own as he ran his tongue across my bottom lip. i let my tongue softly graze across his, the warm feeling sending a deep sensation right to my core. i lean into him more as he deepens the sloppy kiss, him entangling his fingers in my hair while letting out a shaky breath through his nose. i feel myself get lost in the kiss, unaware of how much time had passed until he finally pulls away for air, a slight string of drool attached to our lips that fell when he moved his head down to my neck. he kisses down the skin, goosebumps being left in wake of his lips. i whine gently at the feeling, him softly groaning in response.

the sound made me feel lightheaded with need, and the feeling intensified when he slowly ran his tongue up my neck. i squirm, my breathing becoming more ragged when he hit the sweet spot. he sees this and leans in, pressing me against the door as he sucks on it gently, then grazing his teeth against it, the ticklish sensation intoxicating. i lean my head against the door, feeling completely out of control as he leads kisses across my neck, continuing to lick, suck and bite. he trails his large fingers up the bare skin of my thigh, the touch sending an electric shock through my body.

“can i?” he asks breathlessly, his fingers slightly grasped onto the edge of my skirt.

“y-yes. please.” i reply quickly and he moves his hand under my skirt, his fingers ghosting over where i needed him most, stroking me through the slowly dampening material of my panties. i let out shaky breaths as he teases me, continuing to kiss my neck. he finally moves his hand up to my hip, dragging down my panties past my thighs until they fell down my legs, pooling on the floor. he moves his fingers across my core spreading my wetness and i softly whine. he smiles against my neck at this, slowly entering his long fingers into me, a shaky moan falling out of my lips. he stills his fingers for a moment, moving his head back to mine, smiling as we momentarily make eye contact. he leans in to slowly make out with me again, beginning to thrust his fingers in as deep as possible. i moan into his mouth as i try to focus on matching the pace of his lips, finding it increasingly hard as his fingers moving in and out of me seemed to keep hitting all the right spots. the room was quiet besides for the sounds of our heavy breathing, my occasional moans, the sound of our lips moving together and the sound of his fingers moving in and out of my soaking arousal.

he finally withdraws his fingers, holding eye contact as he enters his fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes as he cleans them off with his tongue. “fuck.” i whisper in a slight daze as i watch him, his eyes squinting as he smiled in return.

“c’mere.” he says affectionately, grabbing my hand to lead me to the large bed, him falling back against the pillows and gently moving my body on top of his. i almost moan just from feeling how hard he was against my thigh. he entangles his fingers in my hair, leading my face down to meet his lips and we continue making out. i softly grind against his clothed thigh, needing relief for the burning need in my core. he softly chuckles into the kiss at this, then pulling away.

“do you wanna uh..” he starts, slightly sheepish. “you can sit on my face?…” he suggests and i almost whine just at his words.

“a-are you sure?”

“fuck yeah.” he says lustfully, gripping the revealed skin of my thigh from my skirt riding up. “come here.” he says, motioning me over with his two fingers as he lays himself flatter on the bed. i crawl further up, finally hovering above his face, my cheeks flushing from how vulnerable the position made me feel.

he smirks up at me before pulling me down by my thighs, his tongue immediately making contact with my core. i let out a gasp as he starts to thrust his strong tongue in, his nose rubbing deliciously against my clit. “josh..” i whine and he groans against me, the vibration going right to my center.

he laps up my wetness, moving up to suck on my clit. i moan and lean forward, tangling my fingers in his pink hair. i slightly tug at it as i feel myself getting closer to the edge, him moaning at the feeling. my hips seem to move on their own, slowly grinding against his face, chasing even more of the pleasure he was giving me. he took it well, letting me use him to get off as i pleased, sticking his long tongue deep inside me as i rode it.

the sight of his focused expression, his strong tattooed arm holding onto my thigh, his noises, the way he was devouring me like a starved man… it was all too much. “josh i-im gonna cum.” i whine breathlessly and he hums encouragingly, intensifying the movements of his tongue. when he moved his lips to suck on my clit again that’s when i lost it. “fuck!” i nearly shout, cumming so hard my vision blurred momentarily.

i grip the bedsheets roughly as josh kept up his movements, licking me clean. he pulls away and i climb back down, pausing to catch my breath. i hold onto his hips and he looks at me with a dazed smile, brushes a strand of hair behind my ear, then wipes the wetness off his face with his arm.

“wow that was..” i pant hard, looking up at the ceiling as i try to compose myself.

he giggles and leans forward to catch my lips, the taste of myself lingering on them.

“i’m glad you liked it, god that was hot you taste amazing.” he says, running a hand through his tousled hair.

i look down at him, his hair messy, his cheeks slightly flushed and droplets of sweat starting to bead on his forehead.

“god you’re so sexy it’s unreal.” i muse and he smiles bashfully.

“says you, you’re literally an angel.” he says, running a hand down my face. his eyes then drift down to my tank. he slowly moves his hands to it, moving them to grab onto the edges. “can i?” he asks and i nod. he pulls the mesh over my head, leaving me in my bralette. “god this has been driving me crazy all night.” he says, running his thumb over the lace material. i let out a sharp breath at the feeling of his finger running over my hardened nipple. “you look so beautiful in it.” he says, leaning down to press kisses across my chest and down my stomach. he gets to my skirt and i hoist my upper body up slightly so he can slide it down. “and this combo of the skirt and thigh highs… shittt.” he says with a soft laugh, kissing down the soft skin of my thighs, me biting my lip at the feeling. he playfully bites at the skin of my upper thigh and i giggle.

he rolls down the socks, then runs his hands across my smooth legs. at last, he leans forward and gently curves his hands around my back and his fingers go to the back of my bralette, fumbling momentarily before fully undoing the clips. he leans back and lets out an uneven breath, taking in my full bare figure. the way he looked at me with such desire and such curiosity made me feel vulnerable, but at the same time it made me feel undeniably sexy.

he moves both his hands up to my breasts, softly kneading and running his hands down them, circling my nipples with his thumbs. i let out a soft whine at the stimulation.

“wow… you look like a goddess.” he says, running his hands down my figure. he leans in to leave kisses down my chest, then takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking the bud gently.

“mmm fuck.” i whine at the feeling and he groans softly, moving to the other side and repeating the same motion. “josh fuck me please.” i whine, unable to take the teasing anymore.

he looks up at me, his hazel eyes darkened from how blown out his pupils had become. “you sure?” he asks and i nod vigorously.

“please.”

he bites his lip and peels his shirt off, my eyes widening as i take in the sight of his toned abs. “oh my god…” i say, my mouth slightly gaped as i run my fingers from his chest to his abs and he lets out a breathy laugh. he undoes his jeans, leaving him in his dark boxers, the tent in them being extremely prominent. i reach out my hand to softly stroke him through the material, feeling how hard he was. he groans quietly, then pulls it fully out, the tip reddened and leaking with pre cum. it was long and thick, to the point i was wondering if it would even fully fit.

“shit let me get get a condom.” he remembers, reaching over to the nightstand but i grab his arm.

“i um… i’m on birth control and i’m clean if it’s alright with you we can just…” i start sheepishly and he wastes no time crawling over me.

“hell yeah. i am too.” he says, petting my hair while looking down at me. “you ready?” he asks gently and i nod in confirmation.

he looks down in focus as he lines himself up with my entrance and slowly slides in, my eyes rolling back at the feeling of being so overwhelmingly filled up. the two of us let out shaky moans when he fully bottoms out. he holds onto my shoulders, his head drooping as he starts thrusting slow and deep.

“fuck you feel so good… so warm and.. tight.” he groans shakily, stroking my jaw. i look up at him, letting out soft moans, barely feeling on this planet from the bliss of his controlled thrusts. i let out a gasp as he hits just the right spot and he catches on, thrusting the same way over and over. i pull him down by his hair roughly and he groans, matching the pace of my lips. the kiss was sloppy, a mix of tongue and teeth as the two of us were being overtaken by pleasure.

“josh…” i whimper and he lets out a broken moan, his thrusts starting to quicken, still hitting deep inside me.

“doing so good for me… making me feel so good.” he coos, stroking my cheek and i almost cum right then and there.

“fuck.” i whine, moving my hips to match the rhythm of his thrusts. i look up at him, his cheeks tinted and beaded with sweat, his hair slick, his eyes darkened, his pink lips swelled and slightly parted as he let out quick heavy breaths.

he leans in to kiss me again and as much as i try to focus on kissing him back, the pleasure was too much. my mouth goes slack as i lean my head back again the pillow and he giggles, continuing to thrust as he leans down. “you feeling good?” he whispers in my ear, the sensation sending tingles of pleasure down my spine.

“y-yes.” i whine, painfully turned on by how he was talking to me.

“yeah?” he whispers, playfully licking the shell of my ear, then biting the lobe before he starts to thrust harder. it was a blissful state, my head thrown back, completely losing myself in the feeling, my senses being completely drowned by him. no other thought other than josh deserved a lick of acknowledgment in that moment, not when his words were so sweet and he was fucking me so good that his name was coming out of my lips like a prayer.

i whine at the loss when he pulls out suddenly, takes hold of my thighs, and brings my legs up to each side of his shoulders. he puts his arms behind my lower back, slightly hoisting me up. he readjusts himself and then enters me again, sliding all the way in. the new angle offered a sense of fullness i hadn’t ever felt before. i moan loudly, latching onto his back with my nails. he holds onto me by my upper back and hip, and starts moving me back and fourth onto his cock, almost like a toy. his head tilted back in bliss, his adam’s apple prominent as he lets out throaty groans.

“oh my god- josh.” i moan, my eyes filling with tears of pleasure, digging my nails into his back, slightly dragging them down as he thrusts quickly. he moans roughly at the sensation. “fuck i’m close.” i say, continuing to latch onto his back as his thrusts kept rocking my body up and down.

“me too.” he pants, peppering kisses across my neck. “let go, i’ve got you.” i squeeze my eyes tightly as i feel my high rapidly approaching.

“s-shit where should i cum?” he asks quickly.

“inside, i wanna feel you fill me up.” i whine and he groans loudly at my words, his fingers pressing tightly into my hip.

“fuck… (y/n).” he moans hotly in my ear as he releases inside me, his hips slightly slowing.

at the sound of him moaning my name and feeling the warmth of his cum inside me i finish too, moaning and tightly squeezing around him as he slowly thrusts through his release.

“yeah that’s it, such a good girl.” he whispers as he rubs my shoulder, my ears ringing from the intensity of it.

he stops his movements and pants heavily as he keeps himself hoisted above me, slowly pulling out. i feel some of his cum slowly starting to seep out. “fuck.” he whispers, biting his lip as he looks down at the sight.

he rolls over to lay beside me as i look up at the ceiling, trying to catch my breath in quick short gaps. he does the same, his body slick with sweat as he attempts to slow his breathing.

“wow that was… wow.” i muse, my hand resting on my forehead as i try to come back down to earth.

“yeah… i’ve never experienced anything like that holy shit.” he says, turning over to look at me with a smile. i smile back, mentally preparing myself for him asking me to leave as he slides his boxers back on. this was a really good experience, if it was just a hookup then so be it.

“do you wanna come here?” he asks, slightly shy as he extends his arms out across from me.

i nod, surprised but a smile widening on my face as i get closer to him and nuzzle my face into his warm chest. he wraps his strong arms around my lower back and looks down at me with a look of admiration.

“hey i know this is might be a weird time to ask but…. would you want to go on a proper first date with me tomorrow? you can stay tonight and we can eat in the morning and do something after? we have another day in LA…” he asks nervously.

i giggle softly, slightly thrown off. “yeah. i’d love that.” i say, leaning up to peck his lips softly. he smiles into the kiss, holding onto me as he kisses me back.

[hellishjoel]

little black dress

10k / pairing: bartender!joel x f!reader

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summary: You’re breaking things off with your douchebag situationship at one of your favorite little dive bars because lord knows you’re gonna need a drink or two. The bartender, Joel, is happy to offer his assistance. 

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, swearing, alcohol consumption, slight angst, toxic ex-boyfriend putting hands on you, dom!Joel, dirty talk, pet names, oral (f receiving), titty attention, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), I think that’s it!

A/N: I’ve held this in my vault for WEEKS. Thank you to @strang3lov3 and @macfrog for helping get this piece to completion! I quite literally couldn’t have done it without them and without their input and encouragement.  Also -- this is my first 10k fic! how exciting!!

here's my masterlist!

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Your breaths grow heavy with impatience, waiting to feel him. Him soaking up your slick wasn’t enough. He finally got the hint as your hips rutted back into this touch, hearing his hellish low chuckle at your desperation.  “So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed.  “Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him. 

You had never gotten dressed up for a breakup before. 

As you looked yourself over in the mirror, you were reminded of what you discussed with your friends last night. 

You felt a little on edge when you revealed to your friends over a girl’s night that you wanted to break up with your short-term boyfriend Chris. The relationship was only a couple of months old, but the guy was a douchebag. And you realized it too late. 

“He was such a waste of your time.”

“Oh my god, he was an asshole to you.”

“Girl, I hope you do a revenge breakup on his sorry ass.”

“A revenge breakup?”

Ahh, yes. The revenge breakup. For wasting your time, efforts, and emotions on Chris, you deserved to have a little fun in the form of revenge.  You’d put on your favorite little black dress, do your hair and your makeup, wear a red lip, and show him that you don’t need him. 

But now as you stood in front of your bathroom mirror, you felt like you were playing dress up. You weren’t really this confident, this bold. But your pouty red lips said otherwise. Your favorite perfume said otherwise, as well. After a slow turn in the mirror, long legs on show with a short black dress adorning your curves, you decided you would be a man-eater tonight. 

You would have preferred to break up with him over text, but you decided you were together for a little too long not to break things off in person. 

Despite what you looked like on the outside, your heart was a tangled mess of emotions.

When you first met Chris at one of the fancy bar lounges on the east side, he was the standout of his friends. Tall, blessed with dark blonde hair, perfectly clean-shaven, still dressed in a work suit to join in on the Friday night happy hour. You quickly learned a lot about him. He had an apartment in the city, but his permanent residence was in the neighboring state. He liked golf, basketball, and football. He was a family guy, close with his parents. After buying you a drink, he told you he worked at a finance agency, a large one at that. 

The professionalism in itself made you swoon. You couldn’t help it, he seemed put together and men who had a plan were attractive to you. 

Needless to say, you went home with him after he was whispering in your ear all night long, his large hand planted possessively on your hip, derailing any other guy in the room who thought about trying a conversation with you. 

It could have stopped there, should have stopped there. But he was smart, and his face wore a permanent smirk that put you in a destructive tailspin. So you kept seeing each other. He took you out on lunch dates, got you into the trendy clubs, and put the two of you up in hotel suites from time to time for a nice weekend away. 

It was fun while it lasted. His charm eventually wore off, and you realized he was just… a completely selfish douchebag.

 You were ready to break things off. 

And so it was decided. You looked hot. Too good for him. Your roommate insisted that she could come with you for moral support dressed as a casual bargoer, watching the show for herself behind a bar menu. The idea made you bubble up a laugh, but you really wanted to do this yourself, for yourself. 

Your stomach was in knots the entire Uber ride over, leg crossed over the other as you drew shapes into the material of your clutch. You wanted to arrive a little earlier than the set time with your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend-fling, needing a drink or two of encouragement. 

The Blackbird was a corner bar that had survived the rapid changes of downtown for the past ten years, or so. Initially around when there was a small gas station on the opposite corner, now it was neighboring a family diner and a video rental shop. 

As soon as you enter down the cement stairs and through the dark green door, you’re greeted by a stage to your right where local bands came in and played. After walking past the pool tables that desperately needed new felt, you pass an old golden jukebox that was playing 80s dad rock. It fit the atmosphere, you had to admit. Some Guns N’ Roses started to play after just finishing a Twisted Sister song. 

Maybe it was the fact that you were entering into a small dive bar, easily becoming the best-looking person there by a mile and a half, but it was the confidence you needed. 

Eyes were on you, a small smile fluttering on your lips at the discovery.

Cigarette smoke filled the air, your heels clicking casually against the hardwood floor as you used the space as an off-duty catwalk. Pool balls clattered, matching the fast-paced beating of your heart. 

The Blackbird Bar offered little lighting, aside from the bulbs that hung above the pool tables and a few old neon signs. The walls were decorated in well-loved decor like old license plates and tacky bar signs. There was a $1 bill hung up in a frame, most likely the first bill the bar had ever made. It's a crowning little achievement in all of its dust-covered glory. 

The bar stools could use new upholstery and a fresh coat of paint might do the wall wonders, but people didn’t come here to enjoy upscale aesthetic and fruity drinks. They came for cheap booze and company from the regulars. 

An empty string of barstools waited for your company at the end of the long bar, your eyes adjusting to the darkness the bar was veiled in. 

Your fingernail traced over the slight scratches on the bar’s surface, someone clearing their throat knocking you loose from your thoughts. 

“What’ll y’ have?” 

Your head was so clouded with what you might say during your impending breakup that you didn’t think of what you wanted to drink. You could really use some liquid courage.

“Uhm..” You paused as you looked over the bartender, your eyes adjusting as you watched him clean a glass with a rag before he tossed the cloth over his shoulder. 

He was older, a little shaggy looking. He wore a tattered dark green henley with a waffle print, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

You ordered your go-to drink, slowly swirling your straw around the ice as you anxiously watched the clock tick closer and closer to your planned time. 

“Hey beautiful.” Shit, he was early. 

Your eyes widened as you quickly set down your drink, signaling to the scruffy bartender and tapping at your glass to request another.

Chris entered your space with a charming smile, his pungent cologne instantly piercing your senses as your eyes gazed over his square jawline. 

“Hey.” You teetered on your seat, adjusting the hem of your dress, feeling that it was all of a sudden far too short for the evening. Like it was shrinking up your body. 

Chris quickly picked up on your not-so-warm greeting, his head cocking as he set down his jacket on the bartop. 

“Interesting pick for the bar. I could’ve taken you somewhere uptown.” 

The comment made your gut clench, especially since the bartender was right in front of the two of you, making your drink as he silently listened to every word. 

“I actually really like this spot. Feels less pretentious than uptown.” You bit back, maybe a little too much venom in your comment. 

Chris playfully threw up his hands in surrender, smirking down at you as he took in your appearance. Slightly smeared red lipstick and an all too tight black little dress. 

“Alright, uptown is pretentious now, I’m glad you updated me.” His comment was snide but laced with a hint of teasing, your hand instantly reaching for your drink once it was crafted by the bartender. You mutter an apologetic thank you. 

“Hey,” Chris spoke up as he raised two fingers to flag down the bartender. “Can I get-”

Before he could finish, the bartender had walked off further down the bar lane, grumbling under his breath as he went to fulfill another customer’s order. Chris scoffed and tried to brush it off but it made you smile. Well deserved. 

Once Chris finally did receive his drink, a corona with a lime, he started to tell you about his week in the office. Unprovoked. 

Apparently his coworker was brutally fired, his department was on their third secretary within the year thus far, and he was up to his ears with his end-of-the-month reports.

You weren’t sure what drink number you were on. The bartender kept giving you glances every time he poured your glass back up, his eyes signaling to Chris as he kept speaking over you. He looked just as annoyed as you felt. 

“And Chambers is just.. all up my ass about finishing it ahead of schedule but I keep telling him, y’know, Dude, it’s not due until Monday. Get off my ass about it. Right? Right?” Now he was laughing like his life, and his story was really all that interesting. Like everyone was hanging onto every word he ever said with enthusiasm. 

He kept wagging his beer around in his hand as he spoke, using mannerisms to go with his exquisite storytelling. 

You muster up a noise to give him some sort of implication that you were interested. However, the more you drank, the more you realized how uninteresting he actually was. Who talks at someone like this for 45 minutes? When did he ask you a question about you? Did he know shit about you?

“Hey,” your voice sounded power drenched which quickly captured his attention. His eyebrows raised as if you were interrupting his train of thought. 

“Do you remember what I told you I studied in school?” Your head cocked to the side, eyes narrowed on his. Despite the volume in the bar, you could still feel your heart thumping in your ears. 

He tried not to look phased by your question. After a pause on his end, he mustered up an awkward chuckle before clearing his throat, shifting back and forth on his feet.

“How long have I lived in the city?” 

You watched as his eyes flicked off to the side, his lips parting as if he was hoping the right answer would just come to him. 

“Uhm..”

“Uhm?” You mocked, a nasty smirk on your lips. It was taunting.

The more he couldn’t answer your questions, the angrier you got. You mocking him seemed to get his blood boiling. 

“What do I do for work? What are my hobbies?” Your red lipstick kissed the straw as you took another sip while you waited, crossing your leg over the other as your foot casually bounced while you watched him squirm. 

You continued to roll out question after question. You enjoyed watching him writhe under your scrutiny, finding out that he didn’t fucking know you at all. 

Someone you considered to be so put together, so refined, and so charming was really just a douchebag clown masquerading in a suit. 

The grip on your drink tightened, and you’re not sure if it was the alcohol or the anger you bore, but something gave you the nerve to throw the remnants of your drink on him. 

The liquor splashed across his white button-up shirt first, your half-melted ice cubes followed by pelting his chest. 

Satisfaction and surprise filled your gut, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you tried to hide a laugh. The crowd of regulars watched from a distance, a few gasping while a few others snickered.

He looked furious. 

“You fucking-- bitch! What the hell!” He was still shaking off ice cubes, pieces of his blonde hair falling down and presenting him as disheveled.

“If that wasn’t answer enough for you, I don’t want to see you again. We’ve been on countless dates, and you don’t remember a damn thing about me.” 

You didn’t care that people were watching, you were putting on quite the show for them in your little revenge dress. 

Chris scoffed at you in disbelief, shaking off the liquid that clearly stained through his shirt. You could feel your chest swell with a sense of pride and courage. Your body felt warm, stained with confidence as red as your lipstick. 

“You’re fuckin’ sick, you know that? You’re a fuckin’ psycho!” He was nearly laughing at you, the insults scraped at your throat and made your confidence cut down an inch.

“Just-- get the fuck out of here, I don’t want to see you again.” 

Suddenly, something you weren’t expecting was his hand tightening around your forearm. It stung, his iron grip burning into your flesh so hard that your fingertips already felt numb from the lack of circulation. 

You let out a whimper of discomfort, your big eyes looking between his talons pressed into you then back up to his twisted face.

He yanked you into him, your heels scraping the bottom of the floor-- or maybe that was the screech of his barstool he pushed out of his way on the hardwood. 

“You really think you’re all that interesting?” His eyes were narrowed in on yours. “You were just an pair of open legs.” He muttered in disgust. 

Your eyes hardened, jaw tightening shut as both anger and sadness twisted inside of you until it created a damaging tornado. You couldn’t believe you saw interest in him or anything at all.

“Hey-” A voice so low and booming broke you out of your thoughts, both of your heads snapping to the bartender who was staring daggers into Chris. 

“You don’t touch a lady like that in my fuckin’ bar. Get the hell outta here.” His voice relaxed in volume, his scary stature and piercing eyes were enough to thrust a splinter of fear into Chris. But of course, being the cock that he was, he wouldn’t let it seem like the bartender phased him. 

“This doesn’t concern you, man. Best if you just drop it-”

“Or what?” The bartender’s words cut quick as his head cocked up, eyes narrowed on Chris’s. Challenging him. Goading him to fight back. The bartender even stepped closer to the bar’s edge, making Chris step back a foot or two despite the bar being a direct barrier to the two. Chris’ hold didn’t slack, it became stronger. Your nails started to try and pry away his hand from you, but his grip was solid. 

You looked to the bartender, a silent plea for his help behind your eyes as you were still lightly fighting against the grip Chris had on you. The anger Chris felt towards the man reflected in his hand around your forearm, a short cry coming from your lips as his fingertips bruised into your delicate skin. 

“What did I just fuckin’ say?” The bartender was rounding the bar towards the two of you, Chris quickly dropping his hold on you as the man neared closer. This idiot had never been in a fight before in his life, and he surely wasn’t going to start with the tall, broad bartender who probably beat up drunk assholes every other night.

You were so hypnotized by their interaction, the feeling of the bartender’s hand gently on your back before he became a barricade in front of you. His broad arms crossed in front of his chest and he was still looking for a fight out of Chris.  

He looked scary,  but in a more protective way now. Now that he was so much closer, you had a better look at him. 

His flesh was seared with the signs of life, soft lines on his forehead and by his eyes-- probably from the permanent scowl he wore like how people put on their glasses every day or a watch around their wrist. He had a speckled beard, but a prominent mustache on his upper lip, both the hair on his head and his facial hair wore a brief streaks of silver.

His nose was aquiline, it fit him perfectly. He was long in the torso, broad in the shoulders, and drawn in at the waist. The henley shirt he wore looked like it could barely fit around his biceps, the material stretching to accommodate. He was handsome for a stranger you had paid little attention to all evening. 

“You alright?” You could tell he was talking to you without looking, his voice more serene. 

“Yeah.” Your voice sounded shakier than you wanted it to, the whole interaction being a shock to your system. Your hand delicately stroke over where he held you, the ghost of his grip still aching on your skin as small bruises were sure to form later. 

The bartender’s attention was back on Chris after being assured you were alright. 

“You heard her. Get the hell out of here.” The bartender’s head cocked behind Chris and to the door. Once the bartender got involved with your fight, you could feel the presence of the tough pool table guys pause their game to make sure the situation was handled. 

Outnumbered, Chris scoffed before he yanked his ice-covered jacket from the bartop, his eyes on you as he shook his head, his nostrils flaring. “Keep her. She’s not worth the fuckin’ trouble.” 

The bartender had enough of Chris thinking he was in charge of the situation. He planted his hands at the top of Chris’ chest, giving him a harsh shove that had him staggering backward, still trying to maintain his balance as he was shoved out the door repeatedly. 

“I don’t usually ask twice, consider yourself lucky.” The bartender’s words were cut with steel. He looked so calm and unbothered like he picked fights with random guys every other night and it was no big deal. 

The crowd of regulars at the bar cheered him on until Chris was swiftly shoved out the door and you could hear his body scuff against the cement steps outside. 

You finally felt a flood of relief course through your body, the adrenaline had come and gone, but the racing of your heart hadn’t subsided. 

You let out a hot puff of air as you brought the scattered barstools back to their home under the bar, seeing a pair of hands help you align the last one. It was the bartender, and he was watching you with eagle eyes.

“I’m sorry-” you quickly blurt, shaking your head and pressing your hand to the side of your neck to find some sort of relief. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene or put you in a situation-”

“You didn’t do nothin’ wrong.” He was quick to cut in and assure you, your bunched-up shoulders slowly relaxing as he resumed his spot behind the bar. 

You sort of wanted to leave. You hated the unwanted attention your hot-headedness created. Even though he was the asshole, you still felt like it was your fault. 

“Sit down.” His voice demanded, your eyes softening as your head whipped back up to look at him.

“I’ll remake your drink, just… sit down.” You shifted on your uncomfortable heels before giving in and satisfying him with a little nod, returning to your barstool as he came by and made you another drink. 

“Can you-” your voice perked up and tapped at your glass gently. He paused his motions as he looked down at you. “Can you make this drink as responsibly strong as you can?”

His lips tightened, trying to hide a smile poking out from the corner of his mouth. 

“Sure, Trouble.” You watched as he tipped the alcohol in, letting it fill up with the ice before he added only a good splash of mixer. Thank god. 

The breakup with Chris was warranted, but it was hard thinking about having to start all over with someone new. Hopefully with someone better. You weren’t one to drink by yourself like this, but the burn of the alcohol sliding down your throat felt better than the ache you felt festering in your chest.

As the night went on, the bartender didn’t seem keen on being more than a few feet away from you. He’d fulfill a patron’s order on the other end but always end up back by you, meandering himself to keep busy. You had watched him clean one beer mug three separate times now. Sometimes you made eye contact, only for a fleeting second before he looked away. 

He kept asking if you were alright. Yeah, I’m alright.  If he could do anything. You’ve already done more than enough. Thank you. Finally, he broke. 

“So… you wanna tell me who that guy was?” He asked, topping off your drink as you sighed and swirled your straw around. 

“He was... I don’t know. A boyfriend, I guess.” You waved around your drink as you spoke, your eyes meandering around the bar. 

“Whatever we had, it didn’t last long.”  You tutted up a short laugh at your little joke. You took in a deep breath through your nose, your shoulders rising before they dropped on the exhale. 

The bartender shook his head, almost looking inquisitive. 

“Why d’ya laugh?” He asked curiously, his arms spread as he planted his palms into the bar for balance as he kicked back one of his boots to rest behind the other. He was so broad and handsome.

“Oh,” you paused and covered your face for a moment in embarrassment that he called you out on it. “I said it didn’t last long, the relationship, but like.. Y’know.” You trailed off and shyly smiled, setting your hands back in your lap as you caught his eye contact, however, now he was holding it with you. 

“What?” He pressed further. But he knew what. He just wanted you to say it. 

You let out a short nervous bubble of laughter, shaking your head. Oh, fuck it. The alcohol was helping you relax, and frankly, you wanted to laugh at Chris. You didn’t owe him anything. 

“He didn’t last long. The relationship didn’t last long, and he didn’t last long. Y’know. In bed.” You felt the need to over-clarify now, taking another sip from your drink, your eyes clenching closed slightly as the strong alcohol made your face tense.  

The bartender’s mouth chipped up into a crooked smirk, shaking his head as he looked over you for a moment. You remembered what you were wearing, your little black dress doing wonders for your cleavage resting just above his bar. 

“‘S’a damn shame.” He finally said, shaking his head as he threw a white cloth up onto his shoulder, his attention fully on you now as the bar had begun to die down throughout the night. All that was left was a set of people playing pool and one cigarette smoker on the other end of the bar, his eyes tiredly captured by the random game show on the television. 

“What is?” You ask curiously, your straw slurping ice now as you sighed and pushed the glass away, shaking your head at him to signal you were done for the night. 

He paused before answering you, taking your glass from the bartop and throwing down the ice into a tray then the glass into soapy water. He shook his head and shrugged as he wiped his hands. 

“Jackass twenty-somethings not knowin’ how to make their pretty girlfriends finish. Damn shame.” 

Your lips parted, your doe eyes on his whiskey-colored ones. Your stomach twisted, a tug between your legs so strong it felt like you were battling an internal fire. 

Finally, you just laughed. It was out of shyness and shock, but it was a laugh. 

“Is that so?”

“So it is.”

“I don’t even know your name.” 

He didn’t let you go another second without it. “Joel.” 

Your head cocked to the side, your confidence bubbling up as you sighed quietly. “Joel.” You repeated back to him, the two of you slowly nodding to one another. Now you were the only thing his eyes would look at. You sort of wished he would look somewhere else, to let you fucking breathe.

But he pinned you right there in your barstool with his gaze, in his bar. It was crazy to think something fruitful might actually come from the train wreck that was tonight.

Maybe put together looked something more like Joel. Someone a little older, experienced. No wedding ring, a barely-there smile that seemed to only come out on special occasions. He amused you, even if it was just for tonight. 

“So, Joel,” your hand reached out, pointer finger gently grazing over the top side of his hand that was planted in front of you. His skin was warm, your nail grazing the soft hairs by his wrist, and the band of the watch he wore. “What are you trying to say?” 

His expression didn’t break, if anything, there were minute details you noticed. His jaw clicked tighter like there was someone slowly turning a tight wheel that controlled it behind the scenes. His shoulders bunched a bit more at his upper back, his body tall and looming and strong. But his eyes stayed on yours, consistent, dark, and beautiful. 

“I can show you better than I can tell you.” His words were laced with a promise you were begging him to fulfill. You weren’t sure how much longer you could last with this nagging feeling between your legs begging for relief. 

Your intimate conversation was cut short with the final clatter of a pool ball, the black 8 ball sinking into a pocket. 

You finally let out a breath, one you didn’t know you were holding in. You glanced to the side, away from Joel’s protective gaze as you watched the men hang up their pool cues on the wall mount, grabbing their leather jackets as they came to set their empty beer bottles on the bar top and thanking Joel before they exited. 

His hand came up in a subtle wave, not even shaking his hand back and forth, just throwing his hand out there to say a silent farewell. 

Your breath quickened at the thought of him alone in the bar with you. If it wasn’t for the chain smoker dulling both of your fantasies. 

Joel caught your wandering eyes, following them down the lane to the final patron.

“Paul, do you know how late it is?” Your eyes fell to Joel’s fingers as he covered the clock behind the counter methodically. 

The smoker, who you learned was Paul, finally pulled the cigarette away from his dry and cracked mouth, glancing around to see how empty the bar had become. Besides you and Joel. 

“Your wife is probably waitin’ for you at home. Best if you start headin’ out.” Joel said as his head tilted to the door next to him, the man nodding with wide eyes. 

“Oh, she is gonna kill me. That woman,” he mumbled something else you couldn’t quite hear from your end of the bar, smiling as Joel snuck a glance at you as he ushered Paul out. He’d stay here all night if Joel didn’t tell him to head on home. 

Your nerve finally made your long legs move, heels landing on the hardwood as you slowly walked the length of the bar, your fingers dancing along the top. You felt a few chips and divots in the wood, years of wear and tear exposing itself to you.

Joel flicked the lock on the door and flipped the sign. Sorry, we’re closed!

The action in itself made you feel spoiled. He wanted you to himself for the rest of the night, he didn’t want anyone interrupting. Goosebumps flooded your skin as you leaned back against one of the pool tables, the light above you making you have an angelic silhouette. 

Your eyes followed him as he walked to the jukebox, the only thing eliciting noise in the otherwise silent bar. With a push of a button, the music halted. 

“What? No music?” You asked. Your voice had a slight echo now. 

His heavy footsteps loomed closer, his eyes on yours and never straying.

“Rather hear you.”

Well, there went any remaining ounce of respect you had for yourself. 

 You initiated the first contact, needy at this point. Needy for someone to take care of you just for tonight. Joel was more than willing to take on that role. A means to an end. 

Your soft hands landed on his exposed forearms, moving upwards until they hit the rolled-up sleeves of his dark green henley. You had to force yourself to breathe when you felt over his biceps, your warm palms coming to rest on his broad chest. 

“I could have handled it you know. Before you intervened.” Your words elicited a slight grumble from the man in front of you. From Joel. 

“I’m thankful, but… I had it under control.” Your fingers continued to dance over his upper half. 

He let out a gruff and shook his head. “Not from where I was standin’, Trouble.” His voice was curved with cockiness. This was the first time you really took hold of his southern accent. It came out when his voice was lust drenched. 

He challenges you, and your attitude matches his stubbornness.

Joel’s hips are against yours now, you can feel his jeans against your thighs that your dress doesn’t quite reach. His hands are a warm welcome on your hips. They’re gentle on you in the same way they’re possessive, eager to have you but wanting to approach you with a sense of tenderness. 

“I had it.” You were persistent.  Your arms moved to wrap up around his neck, intertwining your hands and feeling the soft curls on the back of his head. 

“Sure.” 

The distance was closing between the two of you now, his body moving with a flirtatious sense of stealth. 

He watched you with a stoic face. He seemed so unphased. Your touch alone was often enough to have gentlemen attempting to take you home. You were methodical in that sense. But maybe so was Joel. 

He was a total stranger, but knew little things about him. Stiff, silent, impossible to read, a human shield, a protector. He would have knocked Chris out with a single swift swing of his heavy fist if he didn’t let you go, you knew he would have. Because he was watching you both all night like he had a gut feeling. 

Joel’s tundra-cold voice broke you out of your thoughts for the third time tonight, his large hand coming up and pushing a loose strand of hair out of your eyes, tucking it behind your ear before he cradled your cheek. His actions were soft, his words were filth. 

“You got a real mouth on you, y’know that?” His eyebrows were furrowed, the indents on his forehead and eyebrows exposing themselves. 

A proud smirk danced on your lips, your arms tugging Joel in closer. He could choose to stay still, he’s strong enough to resist your tug. But he lets you. Because he wants to. 

“So I’ve been told.” 

You can feel a breath leave through his nose, a sigh of contemplation. Teetering on the idea of falling down into the unknown with you. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as his hands tighten on your hips, hoisting you up to sit on the pool table’s edge. The position makes your dress roll up your thighs, a broken gasp leaving your mouth as he finally fills the void between the two of you with a heavy kiss. 

It’s tongue and teeth at first, meshed and mangled as you both searched for dominance. His tongue danced with your own before you were tugging on his lower lip. You swallowed Joel’s low grunt, his hands falling to the outside of your thighs with his thumbs pressing into your skin. 

Fuck, he was spreading you further. The dress rolled to the very top of your legs, his body sliding through the opening as his warm body consumed you. He tasted like mint. He was probably tasting the alcohol he was pouring you all night. 

You fisted his hair at the nape of his neck to hold onto some sort of control, but he was persistent. 

Joel was invading your senses on all fronts until finally, you had to wave your white flag.

“Joel,” Your voice came out in a desperate breath on his lips, his head quickly nodding as if he already knew what you needed before you had to ask. 

“Lie down, baby, lemme take care a’you.” He kissed you once more before pulling away, his head nodding up once, instructing you to lay back. 

You felt bashful as your shoulder blades hit the pool table, still spread perfectly for him.

His expert hands pushed the dress up your hips, lifting your ass off the edge to let the material pool around your stomach. 

His warm and possessive hands claimed the lower half of your body. He bent down to take you in, pouted lips kissing your naval while his heavy eyes studied your reactions. 

A breath was caught in your throat as you felt his hands on the inside of your thighs, brushing over the front of the red panties you wore. He was thinking the same thing you were, you could see it the way he dropped a small grin. Same color as your lipstick, pretty girl. 

 “Fuck,” you whispered, using the strength you had left and sitting up on your elbows. You were too turned on not to watch him work. 

Your fingers wound into the salt and pepper curls atop his head, biting down on your lower lip as his fingers continued to ghost over cotton. 

His thumb began to teasingly stroke over you, brushing over your covered clit and sending electricity through his touch to your core. 

Joel hooked his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, bringing up your legs to take them off with ease. You scoot closer to the edge of the table, scoot closer to him.

“What?” You ask, his bemused grin now eliciting one from you too. “Think I’m desperate?” You ask, a little on edge for his answer. 

A man of suspense, you watch as Joel shrugs off the question. 

You watched as his eyes came down to admire what was previously concealed, your lips parting as he let out a hum in reaction to seeing your soaked core. All because of him, all for him. 

Sinking down on his knees before the pool table, your hips rutted forward a few more inches to close the distance. His toying with you was aggravating. 

Joel hooked one of your legs over his wide-set shoulder, his large hand coming up to pry the other one up and open. One of your heels nearly sunk into one of the pool table pockets. You whimpered out as you eventually kicked them both off, hearing one pair clatter to the floor on the left of Joel, then the other on the right. 

His lips were on you like a magnet, a heavy sigh leaving your mouth as your eyes fluttered closed. Your gut was tight, feeling it create its own knots as Joel licked an exploratory stripe up your glossy slit with his tongue. You gasped at the estranged feeling. 

“Fuck,” he moaned out, a short yelp leaving you as the vibrations were shot up your center. “Taste too good not to go down on.” The compliment left you in a swirling heat, feeling your walls flutter desperately for him. 

“Joel, you can just-” you paused, not realizing how frantic your words sounded. You sounded frantic enough for him to stop his tongue in his path and look at you like a deer in headlights. 

“‘Somethin’ wrong?” He asked, hesitant concern crossing his features. “You alright?”

As much as you liked his attention, you felt awkward about him tasting you. Only one or two guys have ever done this for you before, neither making you finish. You just remember moaning their names until they stopped, letting them think they had succeeded. Good oral sex took experience, trial, and error. You just didn’t want him to waste his time on you.

But now that his tongue was gone, you realized how good he was making you feel. It made you realize that your slick was already devoured by his lips and his taste buds purely because he wanted to. But you still had that nervous gut feeling that it was out of some sort of chivalrous act. I’ll do it because it’s polite, because it’s only courteous. 

“You just- you don’t have to, okay? I understand if you don’t want to, is what I’m trying to say.” Despite your words being laced with little pants of trying to collect yourself from the pleasure, you still offered him a respectable out. “We can just fuck, get to the good part for both of us.” Your heart thumped in your chest, looking to him with shifty, sympathetic eyes.

Your statement made his head roll to the side, his lips parting. He almost looked disappointed.

“You don’t want me to?” He finally asked, your heat still begging for his attention. You could feel your thighs trembling under the warmth of his palms spreading your legs apart. 

Meekly, you finally push an answer up and out of you. “No.” Your words were breathy, eager, desperate. “Don’t want you to stop.” 

Joel gave you a slight nod, his eyes looking over you for a moment before he settled back down by your core. He kissed up the inside of your thigh, his beard hairs scratching after the soothing touches of his mouth. 

“Good. Now let me make you feel good.”        

His words made your stomach clench, your walls fluttering and begging to be filled. By the look in his eyes, he had seen it. The way your arousal was quite literally dripping and becoming sticky on your skin. 

You could feel his hot breath fanning over your core again, your hips chasing the feeling. You decided to lay back once more, just wanting to relax with Joel’s head between your legs. 

His palm on your leg moved to plant your hip down into the pool table, halting your movements and holding you still. The anticipation was all too much, and you let him know that by whimpering out his name. 

He wasn’t exactly slow, it’s like he was learning. With each lap of his tongue, letting it move up to your clit and then down to your entrance, he was taking the time to learn you. 

You purse your lips as your eyes flutter closed, letting out a genuine gasp as he began to suckle on your clit. The motion eluded something deep in the pit of your stomach. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it didn’t hurt. Feeling his mouth suck and tug on your aching clit, his teeth just lightly grazing your sensitivity felt like powerful lighting strikes setting a wildfire loose in your core. 

“S’that feel good, pretty girl?” He whispered, trying to learn what made you tick.

“M-mhmm,” you whimper-moaned shakily in response, not finding it in you to lace together more than a few syllables. 

One of your hands braced the edge of the table while the other fisted his hair, gripping the dark strands and keeping him in place. As if he was going anywhere. 

You could feel Joel slowly untying the knots you had made in your stomach, plucking open one and then the other with each stroke of his tongue. 

He liked your taste, he liked pleasuring you, he liked that you liked how good it felt to be given this type of attention. Attention he was sure you hadn’t rightfully experienced before. 

You were eager for more but shy to ask. Joel, being the mind reader that he was, moved his hand that was dedicated to holding down your hip and brought it to glide up your slick. His wet tongue made slow figure-eights around your clit, broken moans tumbling from your mouth as you let your eyes dip open and then closed as waves of pleasure began to consume you in an even rhythm. Joel’s rhythm. 

His mouth kissed at the inside of your thigh once more, having to bite down into the flesh to conceal his excitement. It made you smile and whine. You wanted the marks of his teeth, you wanted the prints of his hands on you. His were welcome.  

He slowly sunk a finger into your pleading entrance, letting a breathy sigh enter the air above the two of you. The only sound in the empty bar was your eager moaning. 

His mouth gave you much needed relief, your pussy taking his finger to the knuckle while his tongue continued to create generous circles around your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

That’s when you felt it. The it no one had given to you before. The it that left your mind blindsided. 

He was only one finger inside of you but his tongue was working magic. You started to mewl out feverish moans of his name, the hand in his hair clenching tighter and causing a sting to radiate across his scalp. The leg hiked up on his shoulder was shaking, your heel digging into his back to guide him even closer if that was humanly possible. 

“Joel, holy shit,” you whimpered, head coming up to look down at him. His lips and mustache were glistening in your slick. “I’m s-so close.” 

You didn’t have to convince Joel like you had to convince the others. Your moans were authentic, your cries of passion genuine. 

Joel listened, he kept his pace, the pace that had you shattering like a freshly broken mirror. 

“J-.. Fuck Joel, your fingers,” you whimper, your walls fluttering around where he was pumping into you with just the one. 

“Mhmmm?” He elongated in a questioning tone, not freeing his mouth from you to respond. He wanted you to say it. You threw your head back in frustration and nodded quickly with your chin to the ceiling. 

“A-Another, another finger.” You groan out. You could feel his smirk plastered against your clit, feeling his cheeks raise with his smile against your shaking thighs.

You don’t need to ask twice. Joel’s inserting a second finger and you can feel yourself stretching for him. He picks up his pace again and the it you’ve been fantasizing about is happening. 

Your toes curl, the heel of your foot still indenting into his back as you let out heavy pants into the air. Your back arches as your walls tighten around his fingers while Joel curls them in the perfect spot, your hand fisting the edge of the table as you searched for words to resemble how good he was making you feel.

Joel kept untying your knots, plucking open one after the other, after the other, until-

“Holy f-fuck! Joel!” Your body convulsed with your orgasm, your hard nipples peaking in your dress as your lower half started to grind against his mouth for the ultimate finish. You were seeing white, your moans and the squelching noise your wetness made filled the room. 

His fingers worked you down from your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you came back to life. Freshly resuscitated after a life-altering orgasm. And one you didn’t have to fake. 

His fingers were covered in your cum-mixed arousal, he didn’t waste any time sucking them clean as his eyes connected with yours. An exhausted whimper left your throat. Your lips were pouty, eyes as wide as a doe as you sat up to face him. 

He pushed himself off his knees, your leg dangling free from his shoulder. 

Your foreheads came to rest against one another, both taking a breath to collect yourselves. His beard definitely gave your thighs a little burn rash, but with how good he made you feel, the slight pain was worth all the pleasure. 

“I’ve never had someone go down on me on a pool table.” 

Your fingers aimlessly drew circles in the felt, your other hand reaching up to swipe your thumb clean across his bottom lip. 

“Ever been fucked on a bar?” His eyes dark and tantalizing, his voice lacking true emotion and replacing it with grit and lust. Good. That’s the last thing you want right now. You don’t need emotions tonight. 

“Mm-mm.” You said as you shook your head, the two of you wearing matching smirks. 

You were glad you and Joel were on the same page. Neither of you seemed interested in anything more than sex tonight. 

Joel was about to help you down from the pool table, a wave of heat splashing your already warm face. He turned back when you dropped hold of his hand, lightly squirming on the table. 

“Just-” You’re a bit embarrassed, you don’t want him to feel sympathetic. “I need a minute. For my legs.” You gave him a shy smile, and he wore a crooked cocky one in return. 

You glanced down as you tested a foot on the floor. Your stems felt like jelly, as if you had just run a marathon, but really, Joel was just pulling an earth-shattering orgasm from you.

Joel was quick to shake his head, his body coming back to yours. 

“Don’t need you walkin’ barefoot on the floor. I’m a little behind on cleanin’ up the place.” His words made you stifle a laugh. 

He was okay with eating you out on the pool table and fucking you on his bar, but god forbid you might step on something sticky. 

You wonder if it’s because he feels protective of you. He wasn’t going to let some dickhead break your arm tonight. Not in his bar. 

“I’m fine.” You say as you haul yourself up, planting your palm into his bicep for leverage while you put on one heel and then the other. You could walk on your own.

“You wanna fuck me on your bar, baby? You do this with all the girls?” You ask as the heels clicked on the floor, one after the other. 

His pace catches up with you, dark eyes watching your every move like a predator meeting prey. It would scare you if you didn’t know how good he was with his tongue. 

“Only the real pretty ones with delicious tasting cunts.” 

Your lips parted at his words, merely watching as his pace kicked up a notch. You felt your back slam against the bar as Joel consumed your front and he was kissing you once more. 

His kiss was magnetizing, commanding. Open your mouth for me. Let me taste you. 

You obeyed, feeling him slip in and have his taste. Your hands reached for your dress that was bunched around your stomach, pulling your lips from Joel though he was apprehensive to let you do so. The material tangled your hair but you were quickly tossing your dress aside, eager to have him back in your space. 

His eyes lingered on your tits, his mouth on yours, but now his hands- god, his hands, they were massaging and cupping them in his palm. 

You let out a strangled whimper as he pinched your nipple between two fingers, still sensitive from your orgasm across the room. 

He enjoyed watching you squirm, your jelly legs already coming back.

“So fuckin’ greedy.. Can barely hold yourself up.” Joel’s words were gritty, lost in the depths of his heady lust. You wondered how big he was, you could see the heavy outline through his jeans.

While he played with your tits, his mouth now slobbering on your nipple and making your core tremble, your hands were on his old leather belt. Pulling the excess to the side and flicking open the pin. 

He takes over, pushing down his jeans to the tops of his thighs. You smile seeing his dark green briefs, the same green as his henley. 

“I guess we’re both matching tonight.” You teased, snagging your pointer finger into his briefs and tugging until it snapped back into his waist. 

“Turn around pretty girl, wanna feel that pretty pussy around my cock.”

Your stomach was already bottoming out, all those knots Joel had untied on the pool table were now forming again. 

You whimpered as you eagerly turned around, your saliva covered tits now plastered to the bar as you bent over it. The bartop gave you a shiver, considering how cold it felt while bare. 

You whipped your head to the side when you could hear him shifting out of his boxers, his belt clattering with his movements. You flicked your hair out of your way as you tried to get a look at his lower half but he was flushed behind you in no time at all. 

Joel wrapped his hand around his base, his other hand on your hip as he guided you to stand between two barstools. He slid his tip in your fresh arousal, smirking as he watched you grip the edge of the bar. 

“Such a pretty fuckin’ girl. Need a man to make you feel good, not a boy.” 

His words released a whimpery moan from you while you nodded, each time his tip teased your entrance made your heart race just a beat faster with anticipation. 

“Need you, Joel.” 

He nods, his open palm splayed on your lower back and right hip as he admired the curve of your ass. 

Your breaths grow heavy with impatience, waiting to feel him. Him soaking up your slick wasn’t enough. He finally got the hint as your hips rutted back into this touch, hearing his hellish low chuckle at your desperation. 

“So-” your breath hitches as you feel his tip nudge in, “fuckin-” you clench your eyes closed as his first few inches break you in two, your jaw dropping, “tight.” He bottoms out in one swift thrust, filling you up to a level you didn’t even know you possessed. 

“Joel!” A broken cry unleashes from the depths of your throat, you didn’t need to see him to know how big he is. You can fucking feel every single inch of him. 

Your cunt was in shock, your tight walls clenching desperately around him as you began to flood over him with your arousal. 

You began panting into the wood of the bar, the pain greeting you in a hot flash. 

“Oh f-... god,” your knuckles were white gripping the backside of the bar. You could hear Joel behind you, moaning at the way your walls expanded graciously for them. 

“Good girl, alright baby, come on, baby,” His voice was heavy, wrapped up in his lust as he hiked up one of your legs and set it on the barstool. “So fuckin-” his heavy breath fanned across your back as he pulled he retracted his hips, “perfect for me.” He said as he reeled them back in, filling you to the max.

Your leg up on the barstool released a new angle for the two of you, your eyelashes fluttering as Joel found a previously undiscovered spot. 

He started slow, letting your body adjust to him. How could someone as good-looking as Joel be humble about a dick like this? And he knew how to fucking use it. 

You were trying to moan his name, but they just kept coming out in hot pants. 

“Joel, Joel, fuck Joel!” The pleasure had now replaced the pain, a sweet sting at your core every time he ground his hips into you just right. 

Joel’s thrusts never wavered, they were deliberate and calculated as he filled you to the brim. His cologne was invading your senses, mixed with his sweat. 

He collected your hair in a loose ponytail, peeling your face off the bartop as your chin angled up to the ceiling. The pool table may have been for you, using his mouth to get off. But now, this was for Joel. Joel was using you good and hard, and you fucking loved it. You loved that you were what he needed tonight, and vice versa. 

The sound of Joel’s hips clapping against your ass echoed throughout his bar, your hand coming back to grip onto his forearm for some sort of leverage. Some sort of control. Some sort of… anything. 

But Joel made it clear that he was in charge tonight. 

His tempo edged you. Once you fell close to another crashing orgasm, his thrusts feeling like they were hitting you at a million miles an hour, suddenly slowed to the flow of bumper-to-bumper rush hour traffic. It was torturous the way he had you mewling out his name in desperation one moment and then the next, he had you whining for more. But every time you neared the finish line, the overwhelmingness of it all was stronger, and you knew Joel felt it too. 

Joel didn’t want you just to feel good, he wanted to change how you saw sex. No more laziness from a partner, no more vanilla positions, no more faking orgasms. This was what it felt like to be fulfilled by the real thing. 

No matter how hard he tried, both of you were losing strength to put up with the passing of another orgasm. 

“J-Joel-” He could barely hear his name with the sound of his front snapping into your behind. “I’m so- fuck me,- I’m so c-close,” You were sure to have bruises on your hips tomorrow, the wooden edge of the bar being nailed into you. “I’m close, please!” you whined, beginning to throw yourself into each of his thrusts which worked up a good grunt from him. 

“Feel so fuckin’ good around my cock,” you twisted your head back as you felt his arm snare around your hip, his fingers slowly circling around your sensitive bud. You were gasping for air, seeing stars as he actually fed you what you wanted. He was ready to let you cum. 

Your eyes weakly watched him as he fucked you over his bar. Eventually, you had to push yourself off of the front because it was pinning your hips into numbness. Your leg came down from the barstool, your back still bent over as you used your palms to flush against the edge of the bar to hold yourself up. Your head whipped back again as you became obsessed with observing him. 

“You like watchin’ me fuck you, sweetheart? Little fuckin’ troublemaker.” 

There were no words, it was too late. Your head dropped as your nails chipped into the wood, letting out a cry of his name as Joel continued to untie the knots in your stomach, all of them falling loose until you came. 

You heard him let out a long and low groan, your barely-open eyes turning back to watch the sight of Joel finishing. 

Joel could feel your walls pulsing desperately around his swollen cock, his fingers getting a little messy with your clit but he kept at it, he wasn’t going to disappoint you. That’s when it hit him, where he couldn’t hold on anymore. 

He spilled his white hot cum into you, rope after rope until it was coming out in shorter streams inside your cunt. You and Joel were moaning in unison as you both finished together.

After a few moments to breathe, you gently pat his hand that was rubbing lazy circles in your clit, feeling his warm palms move to your hips as you slowly straightened out together. 

You flipped your messy hair out of your face, smirking tiredly as you looked over him while he tugged his jeans and briefs back up on his hips, your eyes hypnotized by watching his rough and calloused hands easily secure his belt on. 

“Uhm..” You paused as you shyly searched around for your dress a few barstools down. You went to retrieve it,  Joel taking it from your hands and slipping it back on your body. You watched his face, his eyes looked through you. 

Your thumb came up to his lips, watching as he did a minute flinch with how fast your hand invaded his space. 

“Relax,” you tease, swiping away the red lipstick of yours that melted on the edge of his pretty mouth. He slowly relaxed as he watched you clean yourself from him, his warm palms still holding your aching hips. 

You sighed, your body and mind tired from being completely blown out. Your feet were sore from your heels, you were ready to take this dress and makeup off for good tonight. 

You watched with a teasing smile as Joel did a shitty job with a wet rag cleaning up where you were thrust against his bar, shaking your head at him.

“Missed a spot.”

He tutted dryly. “Funny.”

You collected your clutch and your other belongings, seeing the spot at the end of the bar where the ice you had thrown at Chris had long ago melted and was now a puddle on the floor. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Joel’s voice erupted from behind you. 

Your hand clutched the stray 8 ball on the pool table Joel had you laid out on, dragging it to the corner pocket before you went to meet him at the door. He unlocked it to let you out, even going up the concrete steps with you. 

“It’s fine, Joel.”

He shrugs and shakes his head, looking past you once more. 

“I know. Just wanna make sure you get in the cab alright.” He waved up his hand and stepped into the street, signaling a car until one pulled up to you both. You didn’t know what time it was, how late it had gotten. You probably had several missed messages from your friends to hear how your revenge breakup went. You couldn’t wait to tell them how tonight turned out for the better. Because of Joel.

Finally, he was really looking at you. And you had no idea what to say. Your lips parted, looking up at the older man who sort of saved your night.

Your eyes said it all.  Thank you. 

He just nodded and cocked his head towards the cab. 

“Night, Joel.” You tugged open the door to the cab, tossing your purse in the backseat before sliding in as gracefully as you could. You should forget about being graceful at this point after what you’ve done. 

“You gonna tell me your name before you go?” How could his question come from curiosity but his voice was as cold and bare as ever. His hand was in the window of your cab, as if holding it in place from taking off on him. 

His interest made you smirk, your hand playfully plucking his fingers free from his grip on the window before giving a little shrug and not saying a word.

His eyes stray from yours and look down the road, seeing him cross his arms in front of his broad chest before he continues. “Alright, fine.” He said with a little nod. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to ID’s when I check ‘em?” He says your name, testing the waters as a shy smile creeps on your lips, his cocky little smirk was enough to make your eyes roll. “That’s alright, I’ve been calling you Trouble all night anyway.” 

You sighed tiredly and smiled, tapping the cab window. “Goodnight, Joel.” You say before falling back into your seat and giving the driver your address.

“Goodnight, Trouble.” 

Joel saw you off before disappearing down the concrete stairs into the Blackbird, your fingers gently ghosting over your red lipstick as you watched the city fly by. 

---

here's my masterlist!

follow hellishfics and turn on notifications to see the next time I update! after sept. 1, there will be no more taglist!

@jrrmint @gracieispunk @macfrog @strang3lov3 @notjustjavierpena @bastardmandennis @joelslegalwhre @casa-boiardi @nostalxgic @cool-iguana @joeldjarin @unsteadyimagines @pattwtf @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @schnitzelwnoodles @flippittygibbitts @turtles-all-the-way-d0wn @cartoon-garbage04 @alltheseperfectimperfections @sunnywithachanceofjavi @kyloispunk @hopplessilse @toxicfics @angelicnotifs @iquitedislikeithere2 @livingdeadmaria @emmalandry @worhols @radsanchez @pedritoferg @lucyeyelesbarrow @nobodycanseeinsidemysoul @pastawench @kittytiddywinks @slut-for-bucky-barnes @mendessi @aphterthoughtt @chyannealaniz @pedrotonin @barbierat @chicville03 @alejaa-a

[vyzoi]

Okay! I have decided to make a moot hall of fame with your official titles that I gave you either out loud or mentally in my head.

@inu1gf - Bestie - we go way before I joined tumblr. I met them in a Genshin domain when I randomized a co op domain last year in September

@sakuramakii - The OG - they’ve been my moot since I started this blog and they still press the like button on my posts (lowkey wish you would post more often so I can do the same)

@saesbangs - Sweet Moot - Fellow Sendou Defender- they’re so nice and they support my Sae simping I support their Sae simping too. I asked them what they thought about Sendou, and they straight up defended him and sort of wrote a deep dive on his character. We love Sendou in this household!!

@asaedw - My Bae - The Sae To My Rin - she called me her bae first when we were hyping each other up after she made a fanfic for me when I was sick. I call her the Sae to my Rin because I look up to her like Rin would to Sae. She’s been on my dash for a while and she’s been one of my favorite fanfic writers and she inspired me to write fics too

@emichanted - The Hype Girl - she’s making me all excited and hyped up whenever we mention spamming my inbox. Only My Bae / The Rin To My Sae and The Hype Girl can spam it because they wrote fics for me when I was sick but I think everyone knows that now, I say it any chance I get.

@luvynii - My Number One Fluff Fan - they’ve hyped me up ever since my first fluff fic. Just about most of the fluff fics I have, they’ve read it.

@inojuuy - Loyalist Liker - they see a post from me speaking out on my thoughts or other content I make, they hit that like button.

@thetwinkims - Loyal Reblogger - they reblog every single fanfic I make and they’re quick with it sometimes too. It’ll be posted for a second and BAM reblogged and liked

@something-i-can-never-have - Flexible Moot - we like the same games and I got them into Blue Lock so we can talk about many things and just not one subject

@hygienic-law - Sendou Hater - The Hater- has been hating on Sendou ever since I mentioned liking him!! Overall just hates on the Blue Lock characters that I like now. Started roasting Yukimiya for no reason!! All I did was hype him up!

@laslowchan - Twin Moot - we’re both aroace and autistic. We also love the Itoshi brothers and Kaiser. I appreciate the likes and reblogs. We’re so nonchalant too, we don’t have to talk to one another, just exist.

@minlahzz- Discord Child - Nagi to my Yukimiya - I met them in the same server as my Sendou Hater / The Hater and Discord Lurker. I’m protecting this kid at all costs now. They’re the Nagi to my Yukimiya because we vibe so well together. Also, because I pretty much have the qualities that Yuki has and they have a lot of the qualities that Nagi has. They love Nagi very much. I love Yukimiya very much.

@jwmiooa - Discord Lurker - she ominously types and she also reads the chats but never says anything unless something peaks her interest. I admired that so I took a few notes and now we have an alliance.

@sunathetuna - Fellow Yukimiya Simp - we actually first met when I made a Genshin poll. Suddenly, I got a notification from them but this time, their profile is Yukimiya themed! So I just HAD to let them know how goated they are!

@demiitria - Supportive Moot - Fellow Karasu Lover - My Tumblr Wife - been moots for a while now. We just haven’t talked until the middle of this month. We started talking to each other when I became a huge fan of Yukimiya. They hype my playlists up and they tagged me in a Yuki fic! I know I have their full support <3 They got me into joining Karasu Nation. I’m obsessed with him now thanks to them!! We rizzed each other up after I sent her a Yuki pick up line joke. She wanted to marry me after that. I said yes !!

@moxxyandthekat - The Artist - drew a wedding scene of me and Sendou!

@pinkymangacaps - Sneaky Pinky - The Girl Who Matches My Freak - literally been moots before I even joined the discord server. I even wrote a fic for her without even realizing who she was! Realization crept up on me!! It crept up on her too, we didn’t know we were tumblr moots until HOURS apart from each other. She interacts with my 18+ fics regularly. In DMs, we match each other’s freak. We are on the same level!

@dollyrins - Discord Ally - despite how complex our system is, we haven’t turned on each other’s backs. Sure we have our disagreements, and there’s a few things tying our alliance together. But she has my back in some cases and I have her back too. I’m just salty that my ally has to agree with Sendou Hater/The Hater. But when things get too crazy, my ally is there to break it up and save me!!

@plutoplue - The Defendant - Sendou Hater/The Hater likes to give Plue a hard time in a joking way! Some of the other discord server members mess with her actually. I act like I’m her lawyer and I do my best to step in and defend her any chance I get. She did have the guts to tell me that she isn’t a huge fan of Yukimiya and knowing full well I’m beefing with The Hater. But I still have her back regardless!

@airybcby - The Yukimiya Writer - been on my dash for like a month or so. My Supportive Moot/Fellow Karasu Lover tagged me in a Yukimiya childhood friends to lovers fic she wrote in January which made me give her a follow. My Fellow Yuki Simp became moots with her too so we HAD to try to get myself noticed and it WORKED!! Obviously, because she wouldn’t be in my moot hall of fame if it didn’t!

@dontlickmyfeetplz - The Moot Who Makes Me Laugh Just By Seeing Their Username - The Best Answer To All My Questions - username explains it all, they make me laugh. Every question I’ve asked them about a certain Blue Lock character is SO detailed and it’s exactly what I’m always looking for in an answer.

I will add more if I accidentally forgot about you or if I deem someone hall of fame worthy

I have so many moots and I hardly interact with some of them

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 1 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.7k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, eventual romance/smut, medium burn? notes - first part of my owner!soap x pet!reader, woohoo! i already regret writing something centered around texting and calling lmao, crying!! the formatting is killing me!! anyway, also on ao3! and if you wanna send a request, pls do! ♥

Lonely girl looking for owner. 

Posting on this subreddit again was probably a mistake—but a deep-down part of you clings to the hope that this time will be the time you find someone, the time you get to go home to him. 

At least this time, you'll be better at spotting the signs right off the bat—if only you can take off the rose-tinted glasses long enough to take note.

Your inbox is flooded with the usual kinds of messages—unsolicited pictures, low-effort one-sentence wonders, and so-called doms jumping straight to the part where they call you a nasty whore with no actual consideration for the person you are. 

You're just about to give up, delete the post, and ignore all chat requests when a message arrives in your inbox. 

From: squeakycleanscot 

Subject: Lonely guy looking for girl

Hi,

Saw your post and knew I had to message. You sound like everything I'm looking for and more.

I'm a little younger than the age you put on your post, but I think I fit your other requirements. I'm 27, Scottish (yes, with the accent), and in the army, I hope that's a turn-on rather than a turn-off.

When I'm not deployed, I like cosy nights in, preferably with my love by my side. Don't mind a night at the pub either, especially if there's a Celtic match on, not that anywhere near here shows them. 

I'm looking for something longer term like you mentioned (would love to collar my girl one day, which is probably ironic considering I'm a wee bit scared of dogs.)

Happy to send a picture if you'd like :) 

Hope to hear from you soon, 

Johnny.

Johnny. 

You reread the message, turning his words over in your mind. 

Something about his message has your attention—it at least suggests he has a brain in his head and a heart capable of empathy, and that maybe he's serious. 

You begin typing your reply instantly, your fingers moving so fast you have to type and retype so many parts to rid the message of all of the overexcited mistakes.

hi johnny, 

scottish?! is it bad im already imagining how your dirty talk will sound? 

it's funny, i always wanted to join the army growing up, but it never worked out. maybe it's for the best as now i'm not immune to enjoying a hot man in uniform... which I'm assuming you are ;) 

cosy nights in are my favourite too! I'm a bit of a homebody and love being snuggled up more than anything. i have to let you know in advance that you have some stiff competition in the form of my giant teddy bear, barnaby. 

i'm looking for something longer term too, or at least not a one night kind of thing—a collar one day would be the dream &lt;;3 

if you send a picture, ill send one back, nothing sexy just yet though, if that's okay? 

have you met up with someone off here before? just curious about your experiences! 

y/n

As soon as the message is sent, the overthinking kicks in—was that too much? Is he going to think you're weird? 

You shuffle in bed, turning over between the sheets and trying to flick through other apps as you wait for a reply—otherwise, you'd just be staring at the notifications bar waiting for that silly little robot face to pop up. 

Johnny doesn't leave you waiting long, only a few minutes passing from your last message.

Maybe you'll find out sooner rather than later just how my dirty talk sounds ;) 

I tried to sneak in before I was old enough, but they caught on. Served since I was 18 though, you'll have a lot of stories ready from me if you're ever willing to listen. Not sure if the uniform is anything like you're thinking though, in my unit it's mostly just t-shirts, tac vests and trousers. 

I'll prepare my best snuggling arms for if we ever meet. You should inform Barnaby now about his replacement, mind. 

Can't not send a sexy photo though, sorry lass, all my pictures are. I'm sure you understand, lol

Haven't met anyone, had a few conversations but nothing worth pursuing, and had kind of given up until I saw your post. 

His message is the perfect mix of sexy, sweet, and sincere—and if that is the essence of the man, you know he's everything you're looking for. 

You try not to think too hard about a hot Scottish accent calling you all your favourite names or telling you exactly what to do, or even those stories he has to tell, as the idea is all too exciting. 

Reading his message, you instinctively reach out to pat Barnaby when you see he may end up replaced—hopefully the poor bear will understand when he has to vacate the bed for this sexy soldier man. 

looking forward to it. can I start putting in requests now for bedtime stories too?

i still wanna see, maybe in your sexy-not-sexy pic? 

barnaby will be devastated by the news, and you may have to give him hugs too (but not for too long, or i'll get lonely!!!)

same here, about things not going anywhere... or people turning out to be a bit scary, so you're not allowed to let me down, okay? 

Maybe the last part of the message was too much, but your heart is already soaring with unbridled hope—along with that hope comes doubt too. 

Each second waiting for a reply drags, and you take to re-reading his messages and clicking on his profile to investigate. 

It's largely empty of posts, but there are tons of comments across different communities—including his aforementioned football team, r/Scotland, and eyebleach. 

Clearly, he's a softie at heart. 

When his next message comes through, it's an Imgur link with a short message. 

Here we go, a few months old though now. Don't have anything more recent from work :) 

You take a moment or two to steady yourself before you tap the link. While you definitely feel like you and Johnny have already started to click, if he's not your type then it probably won't go anywhere... 

It's a situation you've been in before—great conversation, similar interests but no physical attraction, and back then you didn't have the heart to break it off straight away.

You tap the link and are greeted by a full-body shot of a tall, well-built man in tactical clothes. His hair is a neatly trimmed mohawk, and while his face isn't crystal clear, he's clearly fucking handsome. His biceps bulge from the gray tee stretched over his torso, his large hands are covered with gloves and grasping a gun.

Your eyes trail to his long legs, thick thighs encased in camo and strapped with various holsters. All in all, the picture is perfect. You find yourself zooming in desperately to get a better look at his face, the handsome jaw lined with stubble that you can already imagine between your legs. The whole image and every new detail has you squirming in your bed, and cheekily wishing to save the image to your phone.

holyfwucj 

holy fuck 

Like what you see? 

i need a hug from you urgently. 

now i feel shy... 

It had crossed your mind ever so slightly that Johnny may be out of your league, or that he simply may not be attracted to someone like you, which would be a complete shame. Now you've set eyes on him, you want him even more—want to kneel at those feet and stare up at his hulking figure while he tugs on a leash around your neck. 

Hopefully, just like you, he'll be smitten from the first glance. 

Scrolling through your camera roll, you decide you don't exactly love any recent photos of yourself. The ones at your last work event have you looking far too corporate, and the only image from your last night out was taking in a bathroom mirror in the local Wetherspoons—neither of which is ideal. 

You crawl out from the warmth of your sheets, kneeling on the end of the bed and posing as you point your camera in the mirror that sits across the room and captures you perfectly. Before you start snapping, you adjust your top to make sure too much isn't on display, even though it's strappy and cropped, and definitely a little bit more on the tantalising side as far as your pyjamas go. 

Hopefully, Johnny likes the pose and the outfit... and you. You can see your smiling face just to the side of your phone as you press to capture the picture—and when you return to your inbox to send the picture link, a message is waiting for you. 

I already know you're gorgeous. Don't leave me hanging, bonnie. 

okay. this is me now, all ready for bed!! 

Holy fuck yourself.

And I'm assuming that's Barnaby in the background. 

If he notices the pose, he doesn't comment on it, instead delighting your heart by commenting on Barnaby instead.

sure is! he's ready for snuggles and sleep. 

Can you do me a favour? 

That message makes your heart skip because usually when something like that is asked, it's followed with a request for nudes or something sexual—and while that is a large part of something like this, you crave the connection first, crave someone actually sticking around and getting to know you. 

depends on what it is!

Tell Barnaby to keep looking after you until I get there, yeah? 

does that mean you're coming for me?

One day, if we're both lucky.

seems promising so far, Johnny. 

Get some sleep, yeah? Maybe tomorrow night I'll give you a bell. 

The idea of this conversation ending is heart-wrenching, but at least sleep will bring you closer to that possible phone call. Hearing his voice, now that will be even more incredible. 

how do you expect me to sleep after telling me that? so mean! 

Patience, bonnie. Be good for me? 

You clench, your thighs squeezing together as arousal rushes through you. It's like he knows exactly how far to go, what buttons to press, what you're looking for.

It's the right kind of commanding, toeing the line perfectly between flirtatious and in charge. A lot of guys you've talked to have rushed it made commands too early, and sent you running. Johnny's words, be good for me? You can't help but want to behave. 

okay, but I see how this is going to be :( 

Bet you look so fucking good with a pout ;) 

now you're just being a cruel tease, Johnny... 

Sorry, I'll stop. Sleep, yeah, for me?

cuddling up to barnaby now. 

You decide to attach another picture, your eyes screwed shut and cheeks squished as you wrap yourself around the bear and cuddle up under the sheets. 

talk tomorrow?

Of course, bonnie, sweet dreams &lt;;3 

You lock your phone, your eyes feeling relieved as they adjust to the darkness. 

For a brief moment, you just clutch your phone to your chest and recall the picture Johnny had sent, how much you'd love to be wrapped up in his arms tonight. 

He's the only thing on your mind as you drift off to sleep.

-//-

Your dreams are tumultuous, starting off with a nightmare of being chased and chased until your legs give out, only for you to find salvation and safety in a stranger's arms—one who seemed vaguely familiar. 

The first thing you do when you wake is roll over to check your phone, elation overtaking you when you see a notification from Johnny already waiting there—already he's blessing you with a good morning message.

Good morning, sweet girl.

Attached under the picture is another image link, and clicking on it brings up an absolutely gorgeous picture of Johnny, lazing in bed. There's just enough light in the room for you to see the brightness of his eyes that you couldn't see before—his mohawk is mussed, and his smile is easy, drawing you in. 

He's even more handsome in this up close photo, you can only imagine what he looks like in person, right before you. 

morning Johnny <3 how did you sleep? 

Like a baby. Yourself? 

not the best, but I swear you were in my dream. 

Sorry to hear that, but oh already? What did I do? 

I mean, it was a bulky guy with a mohawk but he didn't have your name, I think it was meant to be you though. 

You recall the safety you felt in the arms of the strange figure, it was serene, and everything you hope to feel when you find the one—hopefully that's Johnny.

My dreams were shite, you didn't show up. 

i'll try harder to be there tonight!! 

Promise? 

promise. 

God, he's so fucking sweet. It's hard to imagine he's into all the things you mentioned in your initial post, at least right now. But you're all too familiar with how appearances can be deceiving—you wonder what else your sweet Scot is into. 

You peel back the covers and head out into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on mindlessly as you keep your eyes fixated on the screen—not wanting to be even a minute late to answering Johnny's texts, even though it seems there's a natural lull in the conversation. 

You return your focus to making your tea, and your thoughts don't drift from Johnny for even a moment, as you ponder ways to keep the conversation going. Admittedly, you have a million and one questions you want, but you don't want to come across too... eager? clingy? Like some serial killer fiending for information? 

It's crazy the way your heart yearns for him so soon—and it's crazy the way that you wish he feels the same as you do. You wonder how his day is going, and if he's staring at your phone waiting for your message.

With tea brewed, you set it on the coffee table and flop onto the plush couch, rushing to open the app when a new notification pops up.

What's your plan for the day? 

lazy day, binge-watching... texting you? wbu? 

I have to work for a bit, but I'll message you when I can. 

On a weekend? That's horrible, but I imagine they run a tight ship over there. 

You rush to follow up your message with something else. 

will you still be able to call tonight? 

Aye, give me your number, I'll save it! 

You send off your number and don't hear anything from Johnny for a good few hours. You pass the time watching one of your favourite shows, and trying to resist the urge to go scroll down Johnny's profile once more.  

The next time a message pops up, it's well past lunch.

Cute profile pic on whatsapp.

Johnny has clearly added your number to his contacts and spied your picture on the app. You blush thinking of him seeing you in that costume—especially after he knows what you're into.

it was Halloween, I swear!! 

You make an adorable little kitten, lass.

imagination running wild now? ;) 

Aye, but I'm a gent. 

hopefully not always...

Oh, you'll see. Talk to you tonight, kitty. 

talk to you then &lt;;3 

Now you're just itching, waiting for the hours to crawl by for Johnny's workday to end, so you can talk to him again, so you can finally hear his voice. 

What will it sound like saying your name? Whispering sweet nothings in your ears? 

The hours pass slowly until a different notification lights up your phone as you cuddle into your sheets.

Hey, it's Johnny! Just got home. 

You scramble to click on the pop-up, spying his own profile picture in the corner—tapping on it to view it closer. 

It's the Johnny you recognise, smiling wide with his arm slung around another man. He looks so ridiculously happy, probably due to the pint in his other hand. The more you look at him, the more you can't believe you're talking to this man, that he wants to talk to you. 

You quickly add him to your contacts, putting a heart next to his name, before you return to the chat and begin to type.

i'm not the only one with a cute pfp!! 

Three sheets to the wind in that picture, actually.

i can tell &lt;3

Ready to call? 

whenever you're ready!

The image of him floods your screen, the screen pulsing as it waits for you to accept. Your fingers tremble as you press the button, and you fall silent as you press the phone to your ear, nerves gripping at your throat. 

"Hi, bonnie." His voice drifts from the phone speaker, sweet like honey and warm like sunshine, with that gorgeous accent too. 

"Hi." You squeak out, silently cursing at yourself for being so nervous and seemingly unable to speak. 

A melodic laugh follows your words, amused but not cruel or mocking. "Are you nervous?" His voice is soothing, his concern and sweet nature evident. 

You cradle your burning cheek, feeling the way your blush spreads across your smiling face. "Just a little, can you blame me?" 

He's laughing again, and you hear a shuffling noise that suggests he's getting comfortable. "Don't be, I'll look after yer, I promise." 

Fuck. You could get used to hearing that. "I really like your voice." You admit, whispering into the phone with a ridiculous grin on your face. 

"I like yours too, you sound so sweet." 

You drop your voice lower, giggling mischievously. "Only sometimes." 

"That's what I like ta hear." The way Johnny's voice dips as he says that has your insides fluttering, but you can only assume he's returning the favour. His tone returns to its usual charming tone as he asks, "How was your lazy day?" 

"Well, I kind of spent a fair bit of it distracted, thinking about this important call I was going to have tonight..." 

"Oh aye, I should get off the phone so you can wait then." 

"Funny. How was yours? What do you even do day to day, anyway?" You ask, voice brimming with curiosity—there are so many things you want to ask, but you imagine his job can be secretive. 

"Lots of training, and sometimes paperwork, which is right shite." 

"Not when you don't have someone under the desk keeping you company." You laugh, taking the chance to flirt. If you were into Johnny after reading his messages, actually hearing his voice is only making your attraction soar. 

A quiet fuck can be heard, as the man on the end of the phone heaves out a breath. "I'll have ta look into getting you clearance if you keep talking like that, lass." 

"Glad to be of service, what can I say?" You find yourself in a giggle fit at your own silliness, a mix of nerves and joy at enjoying yourself so much.

"God, I love yer laugh." The deep sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. 

The drug that is Johnny is already so intoxicating. 

"I'm so glad you can't see me blushing." 

"I'm no'." He sounds so indignant about that. "But I could listen to that laugh all day, really."

If only he could see you pout too. "Now you're just trying to make me blush more." 

He chuckles, his voice dropping dangerously flirtatious again. "Maybe I am, nothing you can do about it."

"Now I'm pouting." 

"Better not pout in front of me, lass." His suggestive tone makes you shiver. 

"Oh, why's that?" You ask, playing coy. 

"'Cause I'll just have to start kissing ya, might even nibble on those soft little lips." 

You suppress a delighted squeak, already so flustered at even the idea of a kiss. "I'm not hearing a downside." 

"No?" 

"Nope." 

"Might not be gentle with you, though." 

"Good thing that I like it rough." The words are out of you before you can reconsider, but they have exactly the effect you intend as you hear Johnny inhale sharply.

"Ach, you and yer wicked mouth." 

"You have no idea..." 

He lets out a rough exhale, his voice turning gravelly and deep. "Fuck, bonnie." 

"Hey, I'm only repaying the favour, I've been squirming desperately pretty much since I picked up the phone." 

He whistles approvingly, his voice now teasing and playfully menacing. "Just you wait til I'm really in ya head." 

"You're already making good progress." You admit.

"Oh aye?" 

You hum contentedly, eyes flickering shut for a moment. "I'll be imagining your voice as I fall asleep tonight." 

"I'll just have ta send yer voice notes to drift off to, so I can end up in your dreams again." You can almost hear the smirk in his voice. 

"Already spoiling me, too." 

Fuck, how is it this man seems to know exactly what to say? Everything that comes out of his mouth takes root in your brain and sends your thoughts running wild—it's like he's already in your head, or as if someone made him in a lab.

"I'll spoil ya every day, if you're ever mine." 

You groan in frustration, unbelieving that a stranger can be so seemingly perfect. "How are you even single, Johnny?" 

"I could ask you the same. Taking everything in me to not ask for an address right now, if I'm being honest." He huffs a laugh. 

While the idea is thrilling, you know you should have at least some sense of preservation, and shouldn't blurt out your postcode for this strange man you barely know. "I'm worth the wait, I swear." You whisper your promise. 

"I'm sure yer are. But to answer your question, my work keeps me busy a lot, and this lifestyle isn't for everyone." There's a hint of vulnerability to his voice, and you sense such a fact is a sore point in his personal life. 

In the fantasy of all of this, you suppose the reality of the situation isn't something you'd stopped to consider. Life for a man in the military was surely so different from a regular 9-5. "I'm guessing that you're away a lot?" 

"Aye, sometimes for just a few days, sometimes for months, all depends." His admission is soft, as if you can hear in his tone that he's waiting for you to bolt. 

If that's the big 'catch' when it comes to Johnny, you can breathe a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I guess you need someone strong and loyal to hold on and wait for you." 

There's a tense silence, something lingering in the air. 

"Hard to come by, I've found." 

The thought makes your stomach twist in the worst possible way. Johnny, at least on the surface, seems so worthy of love. 

You chance the question that's on the tip of your tongue, hoping Johnny doesn't mind your reckless curiosity. "Have... you been cheated on?" 

"More than once, gets less surprising over the years." He finishes with a sad laugh, as you can tell he tries to infuse humour into the whole thing. 

"That's... horrible." 

Being sent away from your home to face gunfire and warfare, all to keep the people back home safe... only to be betrayed by the people back home who love you, who are supposed to wait for you. It's a gut-wrenching thought, and your heart aches for the man.

"A few of the lads here have a similar story." 

"So the army, not for the faint of heart, and dating an army man, not for the faint of heart." You sigh, though you don't feel put off by the thought.  

"Exactly. That you then? Faint of heart?" 

"No. I mean, inside I'm clingy as hell, and I'd miss you like crazy every day until you got back..." Your emotions overtake you, as you imagine a future where you'd have to kiss the man goodbye for maybe months at a time. "But I get the feeling that what we could have would be worth the wait. Hypothetically of course." 

At that, Johnny laughs, and his light tone returns. "Don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves, aye." 

You don't want to get ahead of yourself, you know you shouldn't, but the way you and Johnny have clicked is unlike anything you've felt before. "But... I have a good feeling." 

"I do too, already dreading putting down the phone." 

"I'm not planning on it anytime soon, even if I have to be up early tomorrow." 

"So do I, alarms set for 4." 

You do not envy his lifestyle one bit.

"That's awful! I'm gonna be so cranky tomorrow, I might have to use my lunch break for a nap." You admit, preemptively yawning into your hand. 

"You one of those perpetually sleepy girls?" 

You nod, even though he can't see it. "The sleepiest." 

"Barnaby is a lucky bear, getting to cuddle up to you so much." 

You burst out laughing at the hint of envy in his words. "Are you... jealous?"

"For now, but soon the tables will turn." He faked an evil laugh, that only makes you giggle harder. 

"Oh, you think you can give better snuggles than him?" 

"Oh, I know I can, bonnie. The bear can't wrap his arms around yer, can't whisper sweet things in your ear..." His voice dips back into that seductive, teasing tone. "... Can't trail his hands down to that pretty little pussy." 

Once more, you flush with desire, every nerve alight as Johnny's words wash over you—although it seems like almost everything he says has your body reacting. "You have an interesting way of cuddling, Johnny."

"Didnae say I was actually gonna do anything once my hands got down there." 

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed." 

"When you're in my arms, you wouldn't have a choice, lass." The dark, dominant voice makes you shiver, makes your submissive instincts awaken. 

"Oh yeah?" 

He hums slowly. "Once you're mine, you leave the choices to me. Johnny knows best, yeah?" 

"Johnny knows best." You whisper breathlessly, the words coming out automatically, like they just feel right.

"Steamin' Jesus, can already tell yer gonna be the death of me." 

"Can't have that, your family won't get your death in service payout!" You laugh awkwardly, before a sense of guilt rears its head. "Sorry, grim joke." 

"I don't mind. You should hear some of the ones my Lt. comes out with, he's a right sick bastard." He chuckles.

"Never want to make light of it and hurt you, though." 

"Telling jokes makes it easier hen, you'll be wishing me dead in no time at all."  

You gasp, shocked by the prospect. "I'd never!" 

"Not even when I deny you from touching yourself for my entire deployment? Months of nothing at all?" The sick grin is evident in his voice. 

"You wouldn't, that's so mean. You're too sweet for that." 

"Aye, for now, but don't you like a little bit of meanness, if yer into men like me..." The edge to his voice and the truth to your words has you trembling. 

"Maybe..." You singsong in response, not wanting to give away just how much you liked the idea of his mean side. 

"Bonnie..." He tuts disapprovingly. "Don't play coy." 

You shudder out a breath as you squeeze your thighs together for relief. "I just don't want you to bully me too much right now, I'm already soaked." 

"Is that right?" He seems delightfully surprised by such a revelation. 

"Mhmm." 

"I'm fucking rock hard if it helps, think I have been since last night..." You hear him shuffle, and you try not to imagine what's happening on the other end of the line, or how he looks lying in bed with said hardness.

When he groans hungrily down the line, you feel yourself quake once more. "The sight of you on your fucking knees... Christ alive." 

You can't help but giggle at your unintended teasing. "It wasn't on purpose, I thought it was cute more than anything." 

"Adorable and naughty, could cum just looking at it." He huffs. 

"You're just flattering me, besides, I could say the same about your picture."

Every part of you flushes thinking of the first photo he sent, all muscle and alpha male—it's like he was the physical embodiment of dominance, and just looking at him makes you want to kneel.

"You like the military get up?" 

"Love it, more than I probably should." 

"Oh aye, bet you'd love for me to order you around?" His words are playful, but underpinned with a hint of promise. "All in due time, eh?" 

"All in due time. What's your rank, anyway?" 

"Sergeant." 

"Wait..." You take a deep breath as you consider your question. "Can I ask for your last name or is it too soon?" 

"Mactavish."

Johnny Mactavish—you should remember to give that a quick Google search later.

"Sergeant Mactavish." You test the name on your tongue, trying to imagine him at work, following and giving orders. 

"Sounds too good when you say it, bonnie." He laughs. 

"Thank you, sergeant." Your affectation of the word is entirely intentional, as you attempt to rile him up with the use of his title. 

The throaty groan that leaves him is addictive.

"What else do you like to be called?" 

"Depends on what you want to call me really, but I like... sir." 

"I like it too, will have to remember that for the future, and just torture you with sergeant in the meantime." You can't help but giggle as you flirt. 

"Oh don't worry, am keeping score." He growls playfully. "Wait til I get ma hands on you, bonnie." 

"You're keeping score?" You gasp, a heady mix of fear and arousal coursing through you almost urges you to be even more of a teasing brat.

"Aye, spanking arm at the ready." 

"My pouting lips are ready." 

"Won't be the only thing you use them lips for."

Fuck fuck fuck. Not that you hadn't thought about it already, hadn't already let your mind drift to what his cock might look like—whether it matches the size of the man—now you're definitely thinking about it. Fixated on it, craving it. 

Some cards are best kept close to your chest so early on, so you change tack and go a different direction with his flirtation. "Yeah, with you in the room, I'd probably be smiling a whole lot." 

The two of you continue to chat, you asking what you can about his work as he asks about yours, and you fill him in on the boring world you live in, which seems especially boring in comparison to taking down cartels and traveling the world.

The conversation never stops being easy, the flirtation and innuendo always right there at the tip of your tongues as you tease each other relentlessly—giving as good as you get. All night, you're practically grinding against your duvet as you get lost in Johnny's dulcet tones, and you find yourself just letting him speak for the sake of getting to hear more of his voice.

As Johnny is about to ask you more about your background, you're overcome with a harsh yawn that you desperately try to stifle. Your eyes have been shut for the last hour at least, but with the command Johnny has over your nervous system right now, it's been easy to stay awake. 

"Tired, bonnie?" He asks, voice laced with sweet concern.

"Yeah..." Your voice falls quiet, as the thought of ending the call makes your throat constrict. "But I don't wanna stop talking." 

"Me either, but av got bad news." 

You know what's coming, and you know it isn't remotely anywhere near the end of the world, despite what your heart is telling you right now. "Go on." 

"I have to go." Even he sounds sad about such an outcome. 

"It's not even that late?" The clock reads 2 am. 

"Gotta get a wee bit of sleep before I hit the gym, and then get off ta work. Don't you have work too?" 

"Work from home tomorrow, so it's not too bad. Not fair though, I wanna keep talking." You admit quietly. It's too much too soon, but you're overwhelmed, the tide of your emotions crashing over the edges.

"Tell yer what. Next time we call, we can try leaving it on while we sleep."

Your heart flips, as you almost whimper at how cute the gesture is. "Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Obviously." There's that gorgeous laugh again. "Is it working?" 

"Just a little, but that might be the lack of sleep talking, I might be going slightly insane." 

Johnny sighs, and it's clear he's battling to keep a handle on his self-control. "Rest, bonnie, I won't be able to work knowing you're not sleepin'" 

You sigh too, accepting your fate. "Okay, just for you." 

"Just want what's best for you, you need your sleep."  

Your head spins at how utterly sincere he sounds—the care in his voice after such a short amount of time serves to drive you even deeper into this infatuation. "Already?" 

"Can't turn it off, am just protective by nature, bonnie. If you were my girl, you'd have a bedtime." 

And that makes your cunt clench and your heart soar. "Johnny..." You whine.

"Yeah?" 

You hesitate to say what you want to say next, but everything within you is calling out for him, desperate to be in his arms. "Don't make me wait too long to meet you, please." 

His laughter is sweet, conveying a sense of understanding more than anything. "I'll try ma best, supposed to be off on Friday." 

"5 whole days."

"Sure you don't wanna wait a bit longer?" 

You shake your head, mumbling a sound to convey your feelings. "Feels right, don't know how to describe it... do you feel it too?" 

Johnny takes a deep breath, his voice shaking slightly as he speaks. "I do, lass." 

"Good." You couldn't even attempt to fight the idiotic grin on your face, or how warm you feel inside and out. "I'll get some sleep, talk soon." 

"Goodnight, bonnie. Sweet dreams."  

You wait for Johnny to end the call, not wanting to push the button yourself and have his presence fade away. When your screen dims, you resist the urge to text him more, opting instead to put your phone on charge and roll over to Barnaby—wishing it was Johnny instead. 

[msmk11]

Marauders era hcs: how they would react to you filming a sexy dance for tik tok

James

At first he’s a little dumbfounded

And entranced. Mans is the biggest simp for you so ofc he’s drooling a little

But then he snaps out of it and is like, the fuck? This is for MY eyes only

Jamie literally walks over and stands in front of you, blocking the camera from seeing you

When you try to go around him he just grabs you by the waist and firmly pushes you back again

He also pulls out the “scary bf” look, even though he’d never actually hurt a fly, by crossing his arms across his chest and staring at the camera (flexes those muscles babyyyy)

Afterwards, he does beg for you to give him a private show ;)

Remus

He thinks you look mega sexy- though he always does

But we all know Remus is possessive af and that shit will NOT slide with him.

He stalks over and instantly grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder

Your phone is left behind as you pout and kick your legs, begging for him to let you down

Ofc, he doesn’t.

Not until you’re upstairs at least…

You’re so in for it

Sirius

If anything, I actually think you’d be the one to catch him filming a dance….but anyways!!!

Sirius walks in on you filming and his jaw drops. He just stands there the whole time thinking about how gorgeous you are.

When you’re done he finally walks over and he asks you not to post it.

You think it’s cuz he’s mad, but then he tells you that he just wants you to refilm it- with him in it.

He begs you to teach him the dance and you guys spend the next hour practicing

FINALLY you film it and y’all nailed it

Sirius is an influencer you can’t tell me otherwise

Peter

I’m actually certain he’d already be in the room with you when you’re filming because he just loves to watch you in your element/having fun

BIGGEST cheerleader and supporter

He is hyping you up with every take

Definitely blushing A LOT

Also, not nervous at all for you to post it. He completely and totally trusts you.

Lily

Mad as hell when she catches you doing it

Not because she’s jealous or possessive (though I totally think she could be)

She is offended you didn’t ask her to join you :(

She loves doing TikTok dances!

When you apologize to her she just pouts and ignores you

It takes some doting and petting to put a smile back on her face

She finally agrees to forgive you but makes you film the dance on her account instead of yours

(You can’t even be mad or annoyed because she’s so precious)

Marlene

It is actually her idea to film it

She has the dance down already and teaches it to you

She definitely leaves you feeling a little flustered as she teaches you

And when you film it.

You’re sort of a stuttering, blushing mess in the video and all the comments point it out

The cheeky bastard just smirks when you whine to her about it later

Dorcas

When she catches you filming the dance, she acts completely unbothered (even though she does actually think you look good)

Thinks you’re a complete and utter tease :)

Two can play at that game

She flirts like crazy after you’re done filming it but ignores your own advances

Leaves you a flustered MESS

You pretend to pout but you’re actually just more determined now to get her attention

You basically have to beg her !

Mary

So Mary definitely did the trend before you did and it drove you crazy

She looked so good in it

So of course you have to get her back

You put your ALL into learning this dance

When she gets the notification that you posted, she is shocked at what she sees

She leaves her place on the couch and goes to find you in your room

You know what happens next

Regulus

You are dead meat my guy

When he catches you he is FUMING

Yes he thinks you look sexy. But you are HIS. No other bitches should lay their eyes on you

He is snatching your phone up instantly and throwing it across the room

He then starts kissing you possessively

Teaches you a lesson that’s for sure

No chance you’ll be able to hide those hickies…

(Makes sure you delete the video)