#and the people that worked their talked to me while I ate at the bar

[stillmonsterz]

be with her tonight

pairing: heeseung x reader

genre: smut

summary: every week, you go to the same coffee shop for their great service and wonderful drinks. but for some reason, the barista has always rubbed you the wrong way. he seems harmless, though.

contains: unprotected sex, rape, noncon, somnophilia, drug mentions, lying, swearing, johnny is there, mark is there, twitch mention

word count: 5.0k (unproofread)

---

Heeseung’s eyes were shifty, his hands trembling over the paper cups. He plucked one off, a grande, and started to prepare the same familiar order. Despite his quivering hands, Heeseung went through the motions of making the drink with the utmost of effort. A small splash of hot coffee dribbled from the spout onto his hand; he scarcely noticed the pain. 

He set the cup down on the counter and surveyed the small cafe where he worked. Patrons were settled into small wooden tables, the windows were bright, and succulents lined the windowsills. Heeseung tugged at the collar of his black button-up and adjusted his apron. His coworker, Sunghoon, noticed him and smirked. 

“Is she coming again today?” Sunghoon asked while he restocked the croissants in the pastry display.

It took a few seconds for Heeseung to process that Sunghoon was talking to him. “Huh?”

“That girl, what’s-her-name…” Sunghoon conspicuously slipped a small brownie bar into the pocket of his apron.

“Oh,” Heeseung said softly. “I dunno…” Of course you were coming today. You came here every Wednesday and Friday at 2:00 pm, during your lunch break. Your favorite coworker was off those two days, so you ate alone and got yourself a coffee and a pastry. You were coming today. Heeseung had to see you again. 

When 2:00 arrived and you hadn’t walked through the doors with your usual vivacity, Heeseung got nervous. He begrudgingly served some other people whose faces he couldn’t have recalled if he had been paid to do so. 

2:15 and Heeseung’s hands shook even more. Sunghoon was already glancing at him strangely, so Heeseung busied himself by wiping down the counter. Why weren’t you here? He only got to see you twice a week, so he savored the time where he got to drink in your face, to inhale your scent that percolated so harmoniously with the ubiquitous scent of coffee. 

As the second hand slipped to 4, a cold chill spread all over his body and he felt as though someone had forced him to swallow a handful of nails. They sat in his stomach, tearing apart the delicate lining, puncturing holes in his organs, ripping him apart from the inside. It was Wednesday. You were normally here by now. What had happened? 

The drink he had made you in advance was getting cold. 

Had you switched coffeeshops? Had you forgotten about him? What if you hated him? What if you had caught onto him?

Heeseung swallowed hard; he dug his jagged nails into the palms of his hand. “Sunghoon…” he began quietly, “I think I’m going to step outs-,”

The door opened and you stepped inside, waving at Heeseung. The nails melted away and were replaced by spoonfuls of honey, soothing his throat, filling him with golden light. 

“Hi,” you said, pulling your purse out of your wallet. You glanced over at the forgotten drink resting on the counter. “Oh, was that mine?”

“I’ll make you another one,” Heeseung said, far too quickly. He unceremoniously dumped the drink into the sink and started bustling about in the kitchen. Once he was facing away from you, a grin split across his face, and he had to restrain himself from giggling. You hadn’t forgotten him! You had come back. While he pulled himself together, Sunghoon input the order into the machine before wandering away, presumably to take care of more customers. Whatever. 

Heeseung lifted his head up to face you again.”The same as usual?”

You nodded and grinned. “Same as usual. You know me so well.”

If only you knew, Heeseung thought. “You were late today- I mean, you came in later than you, uh, normally, arrive, at the uh, here. Why?” Heeseung wasn’t known for his eloquence on a normal day, but you rendered his vocal cords obsolete, his frontal cortex inoperable. 

“Oh, well, had a long day at the office,” you said, tapping your card on the reader. “Another useless meeting from HR.”

Heeseung wished he had something clever to say, something that could win your heart, make you love him. Instead, all he could offer was, “That sucks.” He bit his lip and got another grande cup so he could remake your drink. 

“It does suck,” you said with a wry smile. “How’s your day been?”

You were asking him how his day was, too? Heeseung nearly dropped the cup as he pumped syrup inside of it, and he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. “It’s been…good. Good. A little busy.”

“Well, busy is good,” you said. Then you cleared your throat. “Hey, I was going to come over on Saturday with a…friend of mine. What time do you think would be the best? You know, so it’s quiet?”

Heeseung carefully pressed the lid onto the cup, scrunching his nose as he thought. “Probably…I’d say 5 pm-ish? Most people don’t really want a coffee around that time.”

“Good to know,” you said, placing your wallet back into your purse. Heeseung admired how confident your motions were, and his eyes lingered on your hands. When his eyes flickered up to your face, he realized that you were looking at him. 

Desperate to seem like he wasn’t ogling you, he stammered out, “Y-your friend…does she work at the same, uh, place as you?”

“He actually works down at the insurance company, the one on Smithson?” you kept talking, but Heeseung couldn’t hear a word. His blood ran cold, and his vision went blurry. Him. He. You were going to have your date here? You must despise him. 

Heeseung thrust the cup in your direction. “Uh, enjoy,” he murmured, looking away from you.

“Thanks, Heeseung! You have yourself a good day,” you said brightly before leaving. 

Heeseung felt Sunghoon put a hand on his shoulder, heard him ask if Heeseung were okay. “I feel sick,” Heeseung whispered. “Could I step out for a bit?” Heeseung didn’t actually hear Sunghoon’s answer, but Heeseung was already leaving, stripping his apron and casting it aside someplace in the little break room. He tugged his worn leather jacket on and went outside. The sun stung his eyes so he lowered his gaze to the ground. Heeseung sat down on the concrete step leading into the back room and fished his lighter and cigarettes from his jacket pockets. 

He took a long drag as he tried to calm down, but it was difficult. Every time he thought about your date with some other guy, he started to feel strange. Beyond his initial panic and feelings of abandonment, there was something else nipping at him. A feeling he couldn’t quite place, but it was harsh and red and ragged. 

Heeseung wasn’t an idiot. He knew he wasn’t normal. He knew that his fascination with his pretty customer was irrational, and deep within his heart, he knew that you didn’t belong to him. Yet at the same time, Heeseung knew that you should belong to him. Already, he could read your emotions so well, and that was just after quick interactions twice a week for 3 and a half months. Heeseung would do anything for you, just so he could bask in your sweet glow. 

Normally, the world was cold and boring. Everything was predictable and trite. Heeseung couldn’t remember a time in his life where there had been any novelty. Talking to people wasn’t fun to him at all; navigating the labyrinthine social rules that others seemed to understand effortlessly just made him feel confused and worn. All throughout elementary school and middle school, even into high school, Heeseung had been ignored and ridiculed. He couldn’t decide which was worse. Even at his menial barista job, people purposefully averted his gaze. 

Not you, though. You had given him a bright smile and had even dropped money into the little tip jar. Most importantly, you had awarded him his first compliment. Despite his current misery, Heeseung smiled at the memory. You had sipped the coffee he had made you, your eyes had lit up like a little kid’s, and you had said, “You make great coffee, Heeseung.” When Heeseung had protested shyly, you had continued. “No, no, this is really good. You have a knack for this, you know.”

Heeseung took a long drag off of his cigarette as he sulked. Tears pinpricked his eyes at the thought of you disappearing from his life. Of course, he figured he could always spy on you at work (he had spent hours trying to find your LinkedIn based off of your first name), or maybe break into your house and hide under your bed (he had followed you home from work a few times.) but it just wouldn’t be the same. What made him happy was that you chose to come see him. There were a lot of cafes near your workplace, some even closer than Heeseung’s, but you came to his. Even if it wasn’t for his personality, you liked the coffee that he made. You chose him, but now you were choosing some other guy. And if this date went well, then you might disappear from his life.

Salty tears streamed down his sallow cheeks, and Heeseung swiped them away with his free hand. That feeling simmered within him, festering within him like rot. Angry. That’s what he was. Angry, upset, mad. 

Heeseung couldn’t let you disappear. He couldn’t let you go. 

He stubbed the cigarette out on the step and started coming up with ideas.

Then Heeseung smiled. 

– 

You pursed your lips in the mirror as you applied your red-tinted lip gloss. You had your coffee shop date at 5, and you wanted to look nice. The way you saw it, it was a win-win: you got to get a free coffee and pastry out of a guy, and you could finally subtly let Heeseung down without having to acknowledge his feelings for you at all.

It wasn’t hard to tell that Heeseung felt something for you. Ever since you had complimented his coffee, his dull eyes had developed a shine whenever he saw you. He always made your coffees with the utmost of care, which was one of the reasons why you kept coming back instead of going to another place. And, of course, you’d be lying if you said that his attention didn’t flatter you in some small way. Heeseung wasn’t necessarily unattractive. If he did something about his lank hair, stopped fidgeting so much, and could string together a sentence without stammering, he’d be passable. Even cute. That wasn’t the problem.

It was the same thing you had told your friend and workmate just before she had proposed the date idea. “He’s just…creepy,” you had told her over a shared Cobb salad. “Something about his eyes.”

“Oh, I know what you mean,” she had said, snapping her fingers. “Like they’re empty, right?”

“Exactly,” you had said, relieved that she understood. “Empty. It freaks me out.”

Your friend took a bite of salad and dabbed at her lips with a napkin. “So stop getting coffee from there.”

“No can do,” you had replied. “Gotta take you there sometime. The coffee is amazing.”

“Okay, well, just tell him to back off.”

You frowned. “Technically, he’s never actually said he liked me or done anything or anything, so…”

“Subtly hint that you have a boyfriend?”

“I’m a bad hinter.”

Your friend groaned. “You suck, you know that?”

The two of you had hemmed and hawed over the dilemma before she had offered up a solution: Find a guy from the office, ask him out on a coffee date at that exact place, and make it seem like you were enjoying the date.

So now you were in your bathroom, tucking the front of your sweater into your skirt. As you were posing one last time, you got a text from your date, Mark. He had texted you a succinct “yooooo i’m pulling up 😬”, so you locked up your apartment and walked out. 

When you got to the coffee shop, you were initially worried about Heeseung’s reaction. He looked like a sad little deer when he got upset. You shook your head slightly to get those aberrant thoughts out. You were here to get him off your back, anyways. So that the creepy barista wouldn’t get any ideas and you could keep enjoying some of the best coffee in this part of downtown.

You needn’t have worried, though. Heeseung was kindly towards you and your date. He had even taken your coats at the door and hung them up on the coat rack at the front. He had plied you with pastries, and even stuttered out a, “T-take care of her, she’s a good one” to Mark. When you glanced at the counter, you could see Sunghoon smiling at Heeseung as he brought out refills of coffee and dusted extra powdered sugar onto delicate little desserts. 

Mark looked at you with glee as he dug into his second croiffle. “Nah, this place is dope,” he said, crumbs surrounding his lips. “I see why you come here every week.” You hadn’t bothered telling Mark about Heeseung. It seemed a bit cruel to use a guy  to get rid of another unsavory guy.

You reached out and rubbed some of the crumbs from his mouth, hoping that Heeseung would see you. “Yeah, it’s great. Maybe…” you lowered your voice and leaned in, “this could be our spot, you know?”

Mark gently reached out and took your hand. “Why were you wiping my nose, weirdo? Did I get crumbs up there?”

“Huh? I was wiping your mouth…” you reached out with your other hand to touch his mouth, but your arm started to feel a bit heavy. 

“You okay?” Mark frowned as his eyes scanned your face. 

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

“Drink a little more coffee,” he suggested. “It’ll make you alert and shit.”

As you sipped your drink again, you realized that the drowsiness wasn’t going away. Even though you had downed a whole grande latte, you felt like you were about to

–

You slumped over the table and Heeseung had to suppress his smile. This part had to be perfect. He called your name and strode over to the table. Mark was just sitting in his chair, frozen. “What happened?” Heeseung asked, trying to make himself sound worried. His naturally anxious tone actually helped him.

“N-nothing, she just…fell over,” Mark said, staring at you. “I dunno, she must have had a long work week. Or she’s anemic, women are always anemic.”

Heeseung made a show of checking your pulse on your wrist and on your neck. Getting to touch your velvety skin, and not just a quick brush of hands when he handed you a coffee cup, was exquisite. He could already feel himself getting hard, so he had to move fast. 

“I’ll take her to my place,” Heeseung said, already lifting you out of the chair. Mark quickly stood up, blocking Heeseung’s path. Heeseung bit back a groan. 

“Nah, shouldn’t I, you know, take her home? I know her from work,” Mark said, crossing his arms. He looked from Heeseung to you to Heeseung to you as though he were following a ping-pong match. 

Heeseung sighed and attempted to try using that wheedling, condescending tone some male customers had used on him sometimes. “No offense, but when normally, a pretty girl like this passes out on a date, it’s not because of a-anemia.” 

Mark stepped back, holding his hand to his heart. “Ay man, are you tryna say that I roofied her? I’m not like that!”

“Yeah, well…” Heeseung pushed past Mark, carrying you in his arms. “I don’t know you, do I?” Then he paused and turned around. “Tell you what. You give me your number, and after she gets a little more rest, I’ll call you so you can pick her up, okay?”

Mark nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah, sounds good, thanks.” He told Heeseung his number, and Heeseung carefully repeated the numbers in his head. “I think I’mma head home, thanks for the…hospitality.” Without his jacket, Mark stepped into the cold and ran to his car. 

As Heeseung was leaving, he called out to Sunghoon: “Cover me until I get her some medical help, okay?” Sunghoon gave him a curt nod, and Heeseung left the coffee shop. 

With some difficulty, he managed to get you buckled up in the front seat of his old clunker. Now that he was alone and no one could see him, Heeseung could finally smile. The way you were sitting here, all dolled up, it almost seemed like you and him were on a date. You were going on a drive together after a date at the coffee shop, and you would be going home with him. Heeseung carefully adjusted the car seat so that you were reclining, so it would look like you were just napping. 

“Carbs will do that,” Heeseung said sympathetically, rubbing your hand. “Make you tired. You should know better, baby. You come here all the time.” He stroked your warm, soft hand, and he ran his fingers along your sweet little cheeks. The hand that caressed your face slowly fell to your chin, then your neck. “You look so pretty. You always look pretty, of course, but you looked really pretty today. All for me.”

His hand slid all the way to your chest. Heeseung hesitated; he was risking everything, and he didn’t have much time to execute the rest of his plan. Just one kiss, he told himself, just one. Heeseung leaned in and pressed his lips to yours, ever so gently. It made him shudder, the sweet taste of chocolate lingering on your lips. He wanted to keep going, but he would have to wait. 

As Heeseung drove to his apartment, one hand rubbing your thigh, he congratulated himself on his ingenuity. It hadn’t been easy to coordinate this plan. 

–

First, he had had to figure out who you were cheating on him with. That wasn’t hard; you had foolishly Tweeted: “sooo excited for Saturday!” and “onyour_mark” had replied with a devil emoji. A cursory flick through his Twitter account offered Heeseung an informative, if not somewhat nauseating, look into Mark’s life. Heeseung found out that he worked the same hours as you, but he was on a separate floor. He lived with a Twitch streamer, Johnny “suhcondem” Suh, who streamed on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. As he scrolled through Johnny’s Twitter account, Heeeung found that Johnny had once complained about his fans sending them dildos, pizzas, and other “weird ass shit.” Perfect. 

After that, Heeseung had searched for Mark’s Instagram. Thankfully, Mark had posted a picture of his outfits in front of an open window. Utilizing a combination of Mark’s own descriptions of his neighborhood and Google Earth, Heeseung had found Mark and Johnny’s apartment complex within three hours of tireless searching. He could extrapolate the floor from the basic positioning of the tree, and after scouring Mark and Johnny’s social media accounts for more descriptions of their living space, he had narrowed their apartment to a potential unit. 

Now came the more difficult part. Using Tor browser, Heeseung was able to access a site where he could purchase some Rohypnol. It cost a pretty penny, but Heeseung wasn’t about to experiment with other roofies and potentially ruin his chances of having you. He ordered it on Wednesday, and on Friday he had two packages sitting in front of his door, one small and unmarked, the other a lettermail package. Heeseung used gloves to pick up the white package and take out the white box. He couldn’t have his fingerprints on it, after all. The other package held precious cargo: a used Papa John’s uniform with a pizza carrier.

Next, he had to plant evidence in Mark’s room. On Friday, he begged Sunghoon to cover his shift, citing violent diarrhea. Heeseung knew that Mark would be working, but Johnny would be streaming all day. Heeseung changed into the Papa John’s uniform, threw his jacket over it, ordered a meat lover’s pizza from Papa John’s, and drove a few blocks away from Mark’s apartment complex. No way was he going to risk people seeing his car. 

Heeseung placed the pizza inside of the carrier and headed to the apartment. He was nervous about getting inside, but thankfully an older couple let him inside. With a tremulous hand, Heeseung pressed the button for Mark’s floor. If he screwed this up, then Mark would get to have you. The thought alone spurred Heeseung on to keep going. 

He walked to Mark’s door and rang the doorbell. After a full, heart-wrenching minute, Johnny opened up and gave Heeseung a slow once-over. Johnny was wearing a baggy hoodie that said “I ATTENDED SUH CON AND I GOT THE LONG JOHN” with sweatpants. 

“Uh… meat lover’s pizza for Johnny?” Heeseung said tentatively. 

Johnny groaned. “Dumb ass chat gotta stop buying me pizzas,” he muttered.

“What was that?” Heeseung asked, shifting his weight between his feet. 

Johnny shook his head and waved dismissively. “Sorry man. I uh, I stream on Twitch, so a lot of my fans like to send me shit. I didn’t order this.”

“Oh,” Heeseung said contritely. “Well, I can’t exactly keep it…” 

“Why don’t you eat it?” Johnny asked, leaning his arm on the doorframe. 

“I’m vegan,” Heeseung lied. 

Johnny chuckled. “I can tell. You skinny skinny.”

Heeseung laughed awkwardly. “Right, yeah.” He shifted again, and he could feel sweat pooling under his armpits.

“What, you gotta piss?” Johnny gestured at Heeseung. “You’re dancing like you gotta go.”

“Oh, yeah,” Heeseung said, trying not to appear too eager .”I drank too much, uh, soylent.”

Johnny stared at Heeseung like he was an idiot. “Whatever. You can use the bathroom. Use the one in my buddy’s room, actually. Don’t need chat to hear someone piss.”

As Johnny stepped aside to allow Heeseung to enter, Heeseung fought to keep himself in check. The apartment was as sparsely decorated as a Twitch streamer and male office worker’s living space could be. Which is to say that the only notable decorations were Johnny’s streaming awards that were strewn on the walls and Mark’s bible on the living room table. 

“You can just put the pizza down there,” Johnny said, pointing at the kitchen counter which was already littered with a variety of take-out boxes and greasy bags. “Down the hall and to the right for Mark’s room. Make it quick. Mark gets weird when people go in there.” Johnny retired into his own room, and from the clattering noises he made, Heeseung figured that he was going back to streaming. As Heeseung hurried into Mark’s room he heard Johnny say, “Chat, you’ve been very, very bad…” 

The first thing Heeseung did was take some rubber gloves from his pocket and tug them on. Then he scoured Mark’s room to try and find condoms. They weren’t in the bathroom, they weren’t in his nightstand, and they weren’t under his bed. Heeseung searched desperately for them, before he found them behind his pillow, along with some lube. Just how much fucking does this guy do?

Heeseung inspected the box and was pleased to find that him and Mark were actually the same size: Mark used Trojan larges. Then Heeseung frowned: him and Mark were the same size. Heeseung had always been proud of his size, but now it didn’t feel so special. No matter, Heeseung thought as he removed a condom from the pack, I’m the one who’ll fuck her. He slipped the condom into his pocket and made a note to purchase the same brand of lube. Heeseung went into the bathroom and pulled out the flattened Rohypnol box from a Ziploc bag he had kept in his pocket. He placed it inside of Mark’s trash can and covered it up with some tissues he found in there. As Heeseung searched, he found a tissue coated in Mark’s dried semen. Couldn’t hurt to have it. Heeseung put it in a spare Ziploc and kept it for later. It was nasty, disgusting work, but it would pay off. 

Finally, Heeseung did actually use the bathroom. All this stress made him piss a river. 

When he left the apartment, Johnny didn’t even notice. Heeseung had actually done it. 

– 

Now Heeseung gently carried you into his apartment. It was still early, so thankful there weren’t a lot of people milling around. 

He laid you onto his bed, and your head hit the headboard as he lowered you. “Sorry,” Heeseung said apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby.” Heeseung kissed your forehead. He could wash your forehead, but for the next part, he figured he should put on some gloves. Rummaging around in his nightstand, he found more latex gloves and tugged them on. 

Now that he finally had you, he didn’t actually know what to do. Should he take off your clothes first, or his? He decides to disrobe first, so he could take his time with you. Quickly, Heeseung tossed off his work clothes, throwing them into his dirty laundry pile. His room was about as bare as Mark and Johnny’s living room had been, but once you were his, he would decorate it however you wanted. 

Heeseung forced himself to take his time as he popped your skirt buttons, one after the other. It was the kind of skirt that opened from the front, so when he was done, he could part the skirt off of you, admiring your panties. 

“You wore this just for me?” Heeseung asked softly. God, he wished he could touch you, skin on skin, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He ran his finger along your clothed pussy, and he trembled from the white-hot flames he felt licking at his cock. Patience, he told himself. Patience. Your sweater came off next, and Heeseung folded it up into a neat square and set it to the side. 

Heeseung pulled the condom he had filched from Mark’s room onto his cock,wishing he could just go in raw. At least Mark used ribbed. Then, he got the lube from his nightstand and slicked his cock with it,making sure it wouldn’t be too hard to slide in.

 He couldn’t believe it. There you were, so pliant, so vulnerable, so his. Of course, now that he was hovering over you, he couldn’t deny the twinge of guilt he felt. As he tugged your panties down, he kept whispering apologies. “Sorry,” he said as his cockhead tapped your entrance. “I’m so sorry,” he said while marveling at the way his thick cock bulged your stomach. 

Heeseung moaned so loudly he thought for sure the neighbors would hear. But he didn’t care, even though he should. How could he care? He had never experienced anything like this. Your pussy was gripping him so tightly, its walls enveloping his cock so warmly, he couldn’t care about anything else. With some effort, he pulled out of you and drenched his cock with even more lube.

He plunged back inside of you and gripped your hips, admiring the way your tits jiggled as he fucked into you. As he took your pussy, it dawned on Heeseung that he wasn’t being very romantic about this. “Sorry,” he said, feeling like an idiot. Heeseung pulled out of you and used his gloved hands to put you in a more sensual position. He would just have to wash the places where your bodies touched. He put you on your side and crawled behind you, so that he was spooning you. 

He groped at your tits as he slid inside of you again. This much was much better. Ever since you had told him that you were going on a date, Heeseung had been edging himself for hours so he could last longer, just for you. He did it all for you.

Heeseung started going faster, pounding your cunt harshly. A part of him was sad that you wouldn’t remember this. No, you would wake up scared, wondering why Mark had done this to you. You wouldn’t even know that Heeseung had given you the most passionate fucking of your life. His headboard smacked against the wall as he pushed himself into you from behind. Using his gloved hand, he turned his face towards his. Your face looked so peaceful, and seeing it only made him go faster. The bed creaked as Heeseung relentlessly thrusted in you. He could feel you getting looser and wetter, accommodating his dick. 

Heeseung felt himself bottom out, hitting the firm muscle of your cervix. He couldn’t stop now. Heeseung gripped your tits, loosening his grip when he remembered that he could leave handprints, and thrust up and down. He could have spent all day in your pussy, but he didn’t have much time left. 

His balls smacked into your thighs as he felt his orgasm approaching. It was unlike any other orgasm he had had; he had never felt so in-tune with his body, and the sensation burned. Heeseung grunted and pulled out of you before he came inside the condom.  Heeseung rolled off of the bed and laid on his carpet, panting. 

Soon, he would get up, wash himself off, then wash you off. Then, he would call Mark and say that you weren’t waking up. While Mark drove to his place to get you, he would use the cum he had extracted from Mark’s tissue, wet it with water, and smear it in your pussy. As soon as Mark had gotten you, Heeseung would dispose of the used condom and wash his sheets. After half an hour, he would call Sunghoon and say that you and Mark had forgotten your coats. 

Undoubtedly, Sunghoon would find the bottle of roofies that Heeseung had planted in Mark’s jacket. 

Heeseung sighed, completely content. After this, you wouldn’t trust men again, let alone Mark. Except, of course, for the man who had taken you home, tried to take care of you, and had called the police on Mark, the man who had assaulted you. 

Heeseung couldn’t wait for you to wake up.

[danurso]

NWN Challenge

*At a nice bar in Atlas*

Ruby: You’re still dealing with the fallout of that mess?

Blake: Of course. As the head of the white fang I can't just clean up a mess and ignore what caused it and who was affected by it…..*sigh* The last thing I want is people thinking we’re slipping back into what we used to be years back.

Yang: Good thing your pops is really good at de-escalating, well that and Weiss’ PR team.

Blake: Yeah. Where is her by the way? I wanted to thank her personally for all the help.

Ruby: She said she was coming, something came up during work.

Yang: Or someone. If Jaune went to visit she might be an hour or so late.

Blake: That. . . . . . probably isn't the case.

Yang: Why?

Blake: *nods* Because she doesn't look like she just had a good time.

The trio then turned to see a familiar heiress coming in, looking like she was about to murder someone.

Weiss: *sits down on the table*

Bartender: What will it be mi-

Weiss: Vodka. Pure. And make it a triple.

Yang: Yeesh. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Ruby: What happened?

Blake: Who did you kill?

Weiss: He's not dead, the doctors said just broke a few bones.

R_BY: . . . . . . . .

Weiss: . . . .what?

Blake: . . . . .i was joking.

Weiss: Oh. . . .right. . . . .

Ruby: Wait, wait, you tried to kill someone!?

Weiss: I didn't! I just exaggerated a bit while dealing with a jerk.

Yang: What happened?

Weiss: . . . . .*sigh* I was venting to Winter about some private things about Jaune, as soon as she left an associate came in, he must've heard something about what we're talking, because as soon as we were done talking business he tried asking me out.

Yang: Doesn't everyone at the company know you just married?

Weiss: They do and he knew about it. But he insisted saying we could do something “fun” and that he could “Give me what i needed” since my husband wasn't doing so.

Ruby: Oh gods. . . . . .

Yang: Hah!

Blake: Like, I understand why that made you angry, but did you have to send the guy to the hospital?

Weiss: Not really, but i’ve been having a really stressful week and even after i said no multiple times, he kept pushing, and the moment he got too close i catapulted him out of the room with a glyph, though because of everything i miscalculated and sent him through a wall instead of the door.

Yang: *laughs* Please send me the video whenever you can! I wanna see that.

Ruby: Well, jerk aside, is everything okay? You sound like there's been stress even before that.

Bartender: Here miss. *Puts down her drink*

Weiss: Thanks.

Blake: Is everything okay at home? You said you were venting about Jaune, is everything okay between you two?

Weiss: No! The last three weeks been awful! HE has been awful!

Blake: Wait what?

Yang: Wow, That's a surprise.

Ruby: But why? What's wrong with Jaune?

Weiss: He’s been the worst! I keep having to deal with issues at the company! Cleaning the mess my father made! And then, after an awful day of work, what am I greeted with!?

Yang: A blown up house?

Blake: Another woman?

Ruby: Jaune wouldn't do that blake! Geez. . . . .Oh! Was it maybe a dead body?

Weiss: No! As soon as I come in he greets me with that stupid! Bright! And warm smile! He hugs me tight goes on about missing me soooo much! He covers me in kisses! Takes me in to show the warm bath he prepared for me! The house which is basically spotless and the dinner which was my favorite! Aaaarggh! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil! *Chugs the drink*

Ruby: . . . . . . . .

Yang: . . . . . . . .

Blake: . . . . . . . . . .that's it?

Weiss: Oh no. No no no, it gets worse. After dinner he brings me a whole cheesecake! Freshly made! And after we ate he took me to the living room and massaged every corner of my stressed body! I felt like I was melting! Oh gods the nerve of that man!!!

Yang: Wow, sounds like a nightmare.

Weiss: I know! Because it is!

Blake: *deadpan* Is it though?

Ruby: Err, Weiss? Are you sure there's a problem there? Because you make it sound like he's doing something bad but apparently he's been really sweet to you.

Weiss: I know! And it's unbearable!

Ruby: But why?

Weiss: BECAUSE IT'S NOVEMBER RUBY!!!

R_BY: Ohhhh. . . . .

Blake: He’s doing that dumb challenge too? I thought it was just Sun.

Ruby: *sigh* Nah, Oscar was doing it too.

Yang: Sounds like a headache. Lucky me and Arslan don't struggle with that stuff.

Blake: Yes, because she's not a guy, they tend to be incredibly stubborn about the stupidest things. Well, as stubborn as you can be with someone who knows all your weaknesses.

Ruby: Got him to give up?

Blake: Around a week in, would’ve been sooner if i wasn't busy with the fang. Oscar giving you trouble?

Ruby: Nope. He went for ten days straight, then he walked in on me coming out of the shower and he snapped. *Chuckles* I wasn't even trying to make him lose.

Weiss: *eyebrow twitching* Good to know I'm the only one suffering here.

Yang: Come on ice cream. You know that guy is basically addicted to you, if you give him a push in the right direction I'm pretty sure he’ll just crumble.

Weiss: And you think I haven't tried!? Skimpy swimsuits, Lingeries, Nudes throughout the day, dirty comments, cosplaying his favorite characters, offering to do the most questionable things! I used every last trick in the book and he STILL didn't cave in!

Yang: Oh, wow.

Blake: I knew he had a strong will but this is still surprising to hear.

Weiss: It's so frustrating! I get to come back home every day to the most wonderful husband in the world, who pampers and looks after me, doing everything I wish and making me the happiest woman in Remnant! And you tell me I can't ride him to oblivion after all that!? It's unfair!!! Utter Injustice!!! I wished I knew who came up with this challenge so I could strangle them until they're blue!!!

Yang: *chuckles* I can't tell if you're angrier at not getting laid for three weeks now or at him for not falling for your charms.

Weiss: BOTH!!!

Ruby: I mean, you said you tried everything but it doesn't sound like it.

Weiss: I did Ruby. I most certainly did! And wore basically anything you could imagine, I went as far as to wear things that, if images were leaked online, my life would be ruined and Blake would never talk to me again.

Yang: . . . . . . .you wore a-

Blake: *covers her mouth* Please don't, I’d rather our friendship still exist by the end of the night. For once in my life i do NOT wanna know.

Yang: *pushes her out* Wow. You really pulled all the stops.

Weiss: And it did nothing to him!!! *Depressed sigh*

Ruby: I mean, so far it sounds like all you did was dress up and act sexy to try and make him cave in.

Weiss: What else was I supposed to do!?

Ruby: Did you forget who you're married to? It's pretty easy to get him to bend and do what you want once you pin his weakness down.

Weiss: . . . . . .that sounded very wrong, especially being about my husband.

Ruby: What? I never abused that weakness mind you! He's my best friend, I could never!

Yang: Unless he has your favorite cookies.

Ruby: *pink* That's different!

Weiss: Spit it out already!

Ruby: *sigh* . . . . .fine. but he ever asks, you didn't learn this from me.

-

Weiss: *walks in* I’m home.

Jaune: *wearing pajamas* Hey, how was your night? *Hugs her* Everyone doing well?

Weiss: Yeah. *Kisses him* Everyone is doing well.

Jaune: I left some food for you in the microwave, wasn’t sure if you would eat out so i made something.

Weiss: It's fine, we got something to eat on the way back.

Jaune: I’ll pack it up for tomorrow then. *Walking to the kitchen* By the way, Whitley called. He said something about a guy you sent to the hospital. Is everything okay at work?

Weiss: Yeah, someone tried hitting on me earlier, and I accidentally used too much force to push him off when he tried to get too close.

Jaune: *storing the food* Ouch. Almost makes me feel bad for him. . . . .almost. *feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso from behind.* . . . . . .Weiss?

Weiss: *inhale* . . . . . .*deep exhale*

Jaune: *serious* Weiss. . . . .that guy didn't hurt you, did he?

Weiss: *chuckles* Good to know my knight is still there to protect me if I ever need, I thought he ended up buried under my cute husband.

Jaune: Weiss-

Weiss: He did nothing, just a few sweet words which I already forgot. I just wanted to hug you.

Jaune: If you say so, then I believe you. What do you wanna do now?

Weiss: Bed. I’m tired, could you come with me though?

Jaune didn't answer, he only turned around and picked her up in his arms, making her chuckle in response, he took her to the bedroom and helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and soon enough, they were both in bed cuddling.

Weiss: *Chuckling*

Jaune: What’s so funny?

Weiss: Nothing. I’m just happy.

Jaune: That's good to hear. You seemed a little stressed these last few days.

Weiss: Yeah. . . .but I'm fine now. In fact, I couldn't be happier.

Jaune: Really?

Weiss: Of course. *Hugs him closer* I’ve got a nice house, a good job, great friends and above all else *Looks up to him* the most wonderful husband in the world.

Jaune: *pink, scratching his cheek* Hehehe, I’m just doing what I can. It's not a big deal.

Weiss: It is for me. . . .for someone who grew up in a cold house, surrounded by people I couldn't trust, having someone that I can trust and love this much is everything.

Jaune: Weiss. . . . .

Weiss: You never ignore me, you always know when I'm not okay, you look after my every need, you go above and beyond to make me happy, and you know me even better than I do myself. I must've been a saint in a past life to be blessed with someone so wonderful as you are. I wanna stay like this and hold on to you for the rest of my life. *Angelic smile* Thank you for marrying me, my love.

Jaune: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

-

Jaune: *naked on the bed and spooning her* God damnit. . . . .

Weiss: *sweaty and giggling*

Jaune: I can't believe I fell for that.

Weiss: Fell for what~? I was being honest, you know?

Jaune: I know! And that makes it even more of a dirty move!

Weiss: My heart bleeds for you.

Jaune: *groan* I was just a week away. I resisted everything you threw at me and this is how I lost?

Weiss: Yep. I thought there was no way out until a certain someone reminded me how weak you are to someone being genuinely emotional with you.

Jaune: It was Ruby wasn't it? Every time i have her favorite cookies she'll go on this emotional speech about how much it matters to her that i’m her best friend and all we went through, and when i realize i already gave her the cookies.

Weiss: I won't confirm nor deny anything.

Jaune: Ugh, figures.

Weiss: *turns to him* Oh please, you say it as if you didn't like it.

Jaune: Of course I did, I've been craving you for weeks.

Weiss: Good to hear, I felt the same.

Jaune: Just don't do that next year or I'm telling Blake about your secret costumes.

Weiss: You’re doing that again next year!?

Jaune: *chuckles* That's your main concern?

Weiss: Of course I am! These last three weeks have been hell!

Jaune: If that's the case. . . .*on top of her* Then let me take you to paradise.

Weiss: *pink* That wasn't enough for you?

Jaune: Nowhere near enough to make up for these three weeks. You gotta work Tomorrow?

Weiss: Not really, they have to fix the wall in my office so. . . . .

Jaune: Good. You won't have to make up an excuse then. Might need one for after tomorrow though.

Weiss: *red* . . . . . . .I’m in danger aren't i?

Jaune: The plan was to win the challenge and slowly ease back into routine. You tricked me into losing so now I’m giving you what you want, all of it.

Weiss: *redder* C-can we talk about this for a mome-AAHHHH~!?!?

[lonigiri]

fake dating with gojo plsss

oh my lord i went off with this one guys idk what arose in me when i was writing this but lord. tysm for the ask anonnie!!

Fake Dating Gojo Satoru

warnings: fake dating (obviously), non curse au, fem!reader, implied gojo beating the shit out of people, oral (f reciving), gojo is PISSED, other guys oogling reader, gojo kinda has a sharing problem

note: this is kinda a little drabble. not proof read and i wrote this at 6 am saurrr.

fake dating gojo… he asks you to come with him to a business meeting because everyone there will have a girl on their hip besides him and he just wants someone to be there with him

fake dating gojo… you said no at first but then he practically started BEGGING you to go with him, and to get him to stop being annoying you said yes

fake dating gojo… the long awaited day comes and he had bought you a pretty silk red dress that hugged your curves so nicely. so thats why he was asking for your measurements.

fake dating gojo… you finally arrived at the venue where the meeting was taking place. though it was hardly a meeting, more of a party.

fake dating gojo… you catch onto him and he relents telling you that its not a business meeting but it is a cocktail party with all of the people from his company and he still wanted a pretty girl to show off.

fake dating gojo… he didnt leave you alone for one second, always having his arm draped around you in some sort of capacity

fake dating gojo… all of the guys gojo opted to talking to staring you down. you could feel all their eyes on you, getting kinda uncomfortable you pulled on gojos suit jacket to get him to pay attention to you rather then whatever the hell he was talking about

fake dating gojo… you’d told him what was happening and he told you to go wait by the bar. you could see on his usual happy face that he was not in a good mood anymore. you felt kinda bad because he was having a good time and you felt as if you ruined it.

fake dating gojo… you complied when he told you to wait at the bar taking yourself over to it and sitting on one of the barstools as you distracted yourself with ordering a drink.

fake dating gojo… you had made conversation with a few guys that had been sitting to your right while you waiting for gojo. telling them that you came with someone but he was dealing with something right now so he sent you over here, the two men murmured to eachother, you not being able to hear because of the music playing.

fake dating gojo… you continued conversing with the two men til you felt a hand on your shoulder. turning back you saw the once calm man kinda disheveled. he tells you that your leaving and you complied with him. waving goodbye to the two guys that were at the bar.

fake dating gojo… you had practically been dragged out of the venue and tossed into the car. “satoru whats going on.” you voiced to him and in response he just grumbled. putting the car in gear but before he could start driving you put your hand over him on the gear shift.

fake dating gojo… before you knew what was happening you were in the back seat of his expensive car your dress was hiked up as gojo ate you out.

“ngh, satoru!” you could feel his tongue somehow go deeper into your pussy. he was murmuring shit against your heat but you couldnt tell what he was saying. the only thing you heard was your own moans and the sound of your head pounding. “fucking people in there. how do they not know you’re mine, i can only look at you like that.” you moaned hot at his words. you weren’t interested in going to this so called business meeting but you were so glad you agreed.

———

do not steal my work/translate. likes and reposts always help!!

[seeingivy]

mine 

satoru gojo x f!reader 

in which you decide to fake date your coworker, to get your parents off your back for a few months. can you continue on when the two of you start blurring lines between fake and real?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

- 

“You’re going to fake date your boss?” 

You smack Itadori across the back of his head, signaling him to talk quieter. 

“You’re going to fake date your boss?” he asks, whispering this time. 

“He’s not my boss, he’s just a coworker.” 

“You’re going to fake date your coworker?” 

You nod, reaching over to finish the leftover pancakes on Itadori’s plate. The three of them narrow their eyes at you, matching disapproving looks on all of their faces. You swear they practice it together when you’re not there. 

“You’re in over your head. This isn’t going to fix your problem.” says Nobara, picking the strawberries off Megumi’s plate, much to his dismay. 

“But, it is. My parents will lay off my back for a little bit, actually let me finish this clerkship without criticizing me every ten minutes. He gives them something to brag about in their circles, actually taking their focus off of pestering me.” 

“You know they’ll just take to criticizing him instead of actually laying off of you. Be practical, Y/N” says Megumi.

“Plus, how do you know he’ll even do it?” 

“Excellent question, Itadori. He needs a fake girlfriend just as much as I need a fake boyfriend. His parents won’t let him take over the firm if he doesn’t find a good match to perfect their company image. He said an aspiring lawyer matched the image, so it all works out.” you respond, finishing off the last of Itadori’s food. 

“You already asked him? And he agreed?” 

You nod in response, pulling out the contract you and Satoru had drafted earlier. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. No romantic or sexual interactions with other people during the duration of the contract? No showing your face to the public unless both parties are present. Attendance at all firm related balls, galas, conferences. No telling other people. ” 

“Contingency plans, Kugisaki. It helps make sure we both stick to our deal.” 

“You just broke a rule.” deadpans Megumi. 

“You guys don't count.” 

Megumi and Nobara roll their eyes at you, with Itadori wishing you sincere luck in your endeavors. 

-  

You look around the room, craning to find where Satoru had run off to. He had left you at the bar, promising that he would return after he went to the bathroom.  You already know he’s having diarrhea from that cheesecake he ate earlier. 

You and Satoru had been fake dating for a month and a half now. Just as you predicted, your parents had gotten off your back, taking to their social circles to brag about how you were dating the son and future successor of one of the most esteemed law firms in all of Tokyo. As for Satoru’s parents, they had eased up on their criticism of him, Satoru swearing they’ll give him a real promotion any day now. You were a positive influence, they were beginning to trust him more. Your role at the firm was expanding as well, being assigned bigger projects and cases to work with as time went on. 

As for the two of you, you guys were getting closer. After spending virtually every day together - driving to work together, eating lunch at the block nearby, going on dates at night - the two of you had grown close. Too close for your liking. 

He was funny, unlike any other guy you had met in the past. While he seemed pretentious and immature when you first met him, you were pleasantly surprised to find out he was anything but. He was caring, compassionate, loving. You were convinced he was an angel in disguise, because no normal person could live and laugh that much. 

The truth is he was growing on you. More than growing on you, you felt the presence of him being cemented into your routines, unable to go on without him. You couldn’t go to Mochicat without buying some kikufuku for him, you couldn’t go to the store without him there to reach the high shelves for you, you couldn’t go to sleep at night if he didn’t send his “goodnight beautiful fake gf :D. have a sex dream about me” text. 

You feel a cold hand on the shoulder, your heart pounding at Satoru’s return. 

“‘Toru, you’re back. I was wond-” 

You turn to face him and realize you aren’t talking to Satoru but to Surugu, your beloved ex-boyfriend. He’s all dressed up, his hair grown out and secured into a bun at the top of his head. You put a step between the two of you, his hand falling from his place on your shoulder. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Come on, babe. Is that anyway to treat your old friends?” 

“We aren’t friends, Suguru.” 

“Don’t make a scene. Let’s share a drink. Old times sake.” 

You glare at him, not backing down from where you were standing. You can feel an uneasy pit forming in your stomach, the sight of him bringing on a wave of nausea. Where’s Satoru when you need him? 

You and Suguru dated for three years, almost four years ago now. The two of you had started off as friends, both attending university in the states, with Suguru in medical school while you were at law school. 

The two of you had become close very fast, becoming closer than most friends were. You later found out there was a term for what he was doing, very cleverly named “lovebombing.” You spent almost everyday together and when you weren’t together, you were texting, calling, facetiming each other. He swore he couldn’t go a second without you. 

Eventually, the two of you started dating, your friendship leading into a relationship between the two of you. You had opened up to him, telling him things you hadn’t told other people before. You swore you were in love with him, feeling like he was the only person you could be yourself with. You gave yourself to him, letting him into every little part of you. 

Things changed when he moved to California to do his residency. The two of you did long distance for four months, until you realized he was no longer interested in you. After confronting him, he mentioned that his new girlfriend, Sophia, made him happy, in a way that you didn’t. You had no idea he had a new girlfriend. You didn’t even know that you had broken up. 

He said he was unsure of how to break up with you, he thought you understood the situation when he left. Despite this, the two of you continued to talk for a year after that, Suguru saying that you would always be his best friend, someone who could never be replaced in his life. He would come back to New York on holidays, the two of you spending the week together. 

You could have sworn he still loved you, deep down. Every time he came to see you, he’d hold you in his arms, kiss you like nothing had changed, made love to you like you were the only one. However, he’d return to Sophia at the end of the week, eventually saying your relationship with him made her uncomfortable, cutting any ties you had left. The two of you never spoke again. 

Until now. 

“I can’t. I have a boyfriend.” 

“So I’ve heard. Sleeping your way to the top suits you well.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“I heard you got the Initech Case the other week. Quite a big case to give a junior associate. Do you really think they would have given that to you if you weren’t sucking junior Gojo’s dick? Though I suppose it’s no shock. You always did have trouble getting things on your own.” 

You feel your blood rushing through your ears, clenching the wine glass in your hand so hard it shatters. The sound of the glass has everyone turning their heads, to find you fighting back your tears with a bloody hand. 

You spot Satoru at the door with a concerned look plastered on his face. You can see him maneuvering through the people, trying his fastest to reach you. Before he can, you run to the closest door, moving up the stairs to exit to the balcony. 

- 

You pull up the side of your dress, placing your aching feet into the cold water of the pool. Your hand had stopped bleeding a little while ago, the red still smeared down the length of your arm. You use your uninjured hand to make ripples in the pool, the water moving through your fingertips. 

“Oh, thank god. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” 

You turn to find Satoru, unlacing his dress shoes and taking off his socks next to you. He sits at your side, placing his feet in the water. You feel him looking at you in your peripheral vision, but you refuse to meet his eye. 

“Sorry. Needed a second.” you respond. 

You feel his hand on the side of your cheek, lightly lifting your face up to look at him. You look up at his blue eyes, filled with concern, and can feel the tears you willed down rising up again. You see his expression tighten at the sight of your tears, it finally pushing you over the edge and bringing your tears on in full flesh. 

You feel his arms wrap around you, your face tucked into his neck as he rubs small circles into your back. You can feel him whispering into your ear, shushing you as you sob against him. After a few minutes, your tears subside, your breath still shaking against him. 

“What happened, bug? You’re breaking my heart here.” 

“Did you give me the Initech Case just because I’m dating you?” 

You see his eyes widening, a frown setting on his face. 

“What? Of course not. You got the Initech Case because you’re best suited for the case. I didn’t even have a say in that decision” 

You rub the back of your head against your nose, rubbing the excess tears off the side of your face. 

“Do you think Yaga gave it to me because I’m dating you?” 

“Bug, what is the Initech Case about? 

“Abuse of power dynamics. Hana’s suing her boss, Daiki, for taking advantage of his position to make advances on her.” you respond. 

“Right. Hana requested female counsel, specifically. She wanted to make sure she had someone who wouldn’t talk over her. But, Shoko’s still on leave till next month. You’re the only other girl at the firm.” 

You’re quiet, turning back to face the water. You guess you were the only one who could do that case. But you can still hear Suguru in the back of your head, every horrible thing he said and did to you flooding your mind. 

You feel his arm snake around you, his temple resting around yours. He stares down at the water with you, your reflections staring back at the both of you. 

“Work with me here, bug. Tell me what’s wrong.” 

You swallow hard, his blue eyes glimmering in the reflection of the water. His arm is warm, the polar opposite of Suguru’s frozen hands. You decide to jump. 

“I’m tired of things not being mine.” you whisper, heart pounding. 

You feel his hand reach the side of your face, brushing your hair behind your ear.  

“When I got into college, my parents took the credit, saying I wouldn’t have gotten there if they hadn’t tutored me and used their connections to get me there in the first place. When I got into law school, the boss I used to intern for asked me for a ‘well deserved kiss’, saying I wouldn’t have gotten in if he didn’t write me the letter he sent them. When Suguru left me, he said he was better suited to Sophia, because she owned him the second he met her. And now, I land a big case, work at an impressive law firm, but I only got here because I’m dating you. I just want something to be mine.” you say, your head in your hands. 

He’s quiet, his hand still brushing across the side of your hair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, Satoru pondering over your words. 

“In grade school, my first friend, Saiki, told me that he had only let me play with him because my parents had asked him to before we walked into class. In high school, I created a non-profit with my friend, meant to help incarcerated people find resources that would help them land jobs after being freed. When the non-profit took off, he took all the credit, stating that all I did was finance the project, when it was actually my idea. When I decided to work at the firm and become a lawyer, people turned down any interest I showed at other companies - they knew I was going to end up at my dad’s firm anyways. Nothing I ever do is mine either.” 

You turn to him, looking into his eyes. 

“But it doesn’t matter.” 

“What?” 

“They’re going to say that about me regardless, bug. But does that really change what’s happening? Saiki will still be my friend, and play tag with me on the field. I still came up with that idea and my non-profit still helps people, even if my name isn’t on it. And I’ll still be a kick-ass lawyer, even if it’s at my parent’s firm.” 

You soak in his words, letting the thoughts cross through your mind. 

“I would still like to have some things to myself, Satoru. Things that are just mine.” 

“And you do. Those godforsaken friends of yours, especially that grump little weirdo, that ugly ass cat, that disgusting green hoodie you own-

“Hey.” 

“And me, of course. Those things are just yours.” 

You smile at him for including himself in the list. You interlock your fingers with his, forgetting about the blood smeared all over your hand. He looks down, opening up your hand to tracing his fingers along the cut. He lifts your hand up, pressing his lips against the cut. You feel your skin burn at the contact, his soft lips brushing against your hand. 

“Did you just try to kiss it better, Satoru?” you ask, feeling breathless all of a sudden. 

“Did it work?” 

“No.” 

You look up at him, a smile plastered on his face. You swear your hand is shaking in his hold. He rolls his eyes, bringing his arms closer to yours, holding your face in his hands. The tips of his fingers brush through the sides of your hair, as he leans forward, his lips pressing a kiss on yours. 

Every other kiss you had shared had been in the presence of other people, attempting to make your faux relationship look more realistic. But this was something else. The kiss was soft, slow, nothing like the rushed pecks the two of you had shared before. His lips are soft, warm. You swear you can taste the dessert he was eating earlier, his lips sweet. You can feel his hands lowering to rest around your neck, a smile forming on his mouth. He breaks apart, your face still in his hands. 

“Did it work now?” 

“Maybe.” 

He laughs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

- 

“You were flirting with her! In front of me, Satoru. And then you left me there at the table, sitting alone.” 

“No, I wasn’t. She was just going to introduce me to her dad,” 

“Why do you suppose that means? What else was she supposed to think when you told her you liked that dress and that you would love to be a part of the family?” 

“It was a compliment! And you know what I meant, we’re trying to secure a deal with them.” 

“So you admit it? You were trying to lay the moves on her as a business tactic.” 

“Oh my god, Y/N. So what if I was? It helps the company if they share their cases with us.” 

“And what about me?” 

“What about you? You know your parents would love it if you got some big case with Soyin Paradigm.” 

You pause, realizing you and Satoru aren’t arguing about the same thing. You knew the lines had been blurring recently, ever since the night you had spent at the pool and every date afterwards, but you never realized how far apart the two of you were standing. He was still focused on the promotion, the cases he could get. He didn’t care about you. You turn your back to him, running out the door and down the stairs to the street. 

You hear him behind you, calling out your name to come back. You make it halfway across the street before he catches up, him blocking you from walking any further. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

You pinch yourself for what you’re about to say next, bracing yourself for the goodbye. 

“I think we’ve both fulfilled the terms of our contract. Your parents trust you and gave you a bigger role at the company like you said they would. My parents have enough to brag about for a few years. I think we should call it quits.” 

You stare up at him, his eyes boring into yours. 

“No.” 

“What?” 

“Why are you running away from me? What did I say?” he says, his grip on hands intensing. 

“Nothing. This day was bound to come anyways, Satoru. We couldn’t go on like this forever.” 

“Why not?” 

“It’s fake, Satoru. I mean hell, you’re still flirting with other girls for goodness sake. You don’t even like me.” 

You see anger flash in his eyes, his hands moving up to your shoulders. 

“I don’t like you?” 

“Yes, Satoru. You don’t.” 

“Do you remember that night, when we sat by the water? I’ve been hopelessly in love with you since then. Every time I look at you it’s like the first time. Your stupid jokes, your ugly ass cat, the smile you only save for me, you’re literally everywhere. I tried to get the thought of you out of my mind, but I can’t. I can’t find a thing not to love about you.” 

You feel your mouth dry at his words. He can’t find a thing not to love about you. He loves you. 

“Come on, now. You’re the best thing that’s ever been mine, bug.” 

You feel your heart glowing at his words. You grab him by the collar, pulling him down to press a kiss to his lips. You feel him smile against your lips once again, his arms snaking around your waist. The two of you kiss - soft, sweet, slow - your hearts beating together. He tastes sweet, the taste of the strawberry mochi he had after dinner still lingering on his lips. You break apart, your cheeks tinted pink. 

He smiles at you, running his finger across your lips. You lock your hand with his, the two of you making your way back to the apartment you had just ran out of. 

“You wanna know something embarrassing?”

“Hm?” 

“You have a crush on me, bug.” he says, smirking down at you.

“Okay?”

“That’s embarrassing. You have the hots for me” 

You roll your eyes, shutting the door of your apartment behind the two of you. 

- 

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for sleeping with a 20 year old?

tw: mentions of potential grooming, age gap relationships, nsft/nsfw, vague discussions of sex

So, me (38m) and my wife (39f) are in an open relationship. Basically, we’re both bisexual and not quite ready to limit our sex lives to one person yet. So, we decided to allow friends with benefits situations outside of our relationship. No romantic stuff, no dating, just sex.

In January, my wife went to stay at her best friend’s (28f) house and have some fun together. I don’t mind at all, I was kind of glad to have our apartment to myself for a week. Now, there’s this queer bar that me and my wife frequent and it’s a good mix of all age demographics and identities.

There’s this one trans guy, I’ll call him M, that most people in the local community know because he’s very attractive. He reminds me of a very short Eric Draven mixed with Eddie Vedder. (Oddly specific, I know) Like, he has long-ish curly brown hair, big brown eyes, the sweetest smile ever and he dresses very well. A little grunge here, a little rockstar there. Good jewelry. You get it.

I always catch people staring at him when he’s at the bar with his friends. (We live in Europe btw, legal drinking age is 18.) In short, I find him very cute. He’s basically a micro celebrity among the community and he doesn’t even know it.

So, while my wife was away I went down to the bar and his friend group invited me to come sit with them. We started talking, he’s super funny and we began talking about Pearl Jam because of the shirt I was wearing. Found out he’s obsessed with the music scene of the 90s, specifically rock and grunge, and I happen to have a collection of merchandise of the big 4. I invited him to come check it out and he eagerly accepted. None of his friends wanted to come, so it was just us two. Showed him the stuff, he got super excited about it and I even let him keep one of my Soundgarden shirts and some CDs.

I offered to cook dinner, we ate and then had some weed brownies for dessert. We got posted on the couch, talked for a good while and he began confiding in me. I’m not gonna go into detail because that’s shitty, but he basically told me he’d never had a positive sexual experience up to that point. Apparently all of his exes were switches leaning submissive and he’s purely submissive, so things never really worked out and he never finished with any of them.

I told him about me and my wife’s arrangements and some other stuff about our sex life. (Don’t worry, my wife is 100% okay with this. Even in this context.)

Here’s where I might be the asshole, if not the creep:

Now, I was pretty high at that point and I joked about how I could give him a positive experience. To my surprise, he actually eagerly accepted. I was a bit hesitant because we were both buzzed, but he kept reiterating that he’s consenting and that he’s sure he wants this. So, I made sure he had a good night and he actually ended up sleeping over and we cuddled. It was super nice and he seemed genuinely ecstatic about it the next morning, it was adorable. I was honestly just happy that I was able to give him a positive sexual encounter.

We exchanged numbers, kept texting for two days and he ended up coming over again. Had some more fun together and he went to go sleep over at a friend’s place. At that point, I sort of realized that I may be catching feelings for him. Which is against me and my wife’s rules and also just a horrible idea, especially considering the age gap. So, I let him know that I need some distance and he was super understanding. He was understandably a bit disappointed but didn’t complain or anything.

Once my wife came back, I told her about everything. This is just a thing we do because it helps avoid speculation and unnecessary jealousy. We always tell each other about what happens with our other sexual partners, but only if they consent to it. Which most of them do because they’re our friends. She seemed a bit unnerved by it, not because of the fact that I had feelings for him, but because of the age difference. She said it’s weird and predatory and told me she needed some time to think.

Apparently, she went to go check in on M and asked him if I pressured him into anything. He said it was a 100% mutual thing and he’s very much into older guys, so he enjoyed it quite a lot.

This put her mind at ease but I’m still quite shaken by it. I never stopped to consider the fact that the age difference is quite concerning. I can’t help but feel like a nasty creep that bribed some poor 20 year with old band shirts to come sleep with him. I don’t like that I didn’t even think about it. Talking with M came so easy and we share a lot of interests. I’m not about to go and say he’s 'mature for his age' because he isn’t, he acts like any other 20 year old.

I was just so focused on how attractive and interesting he is to me, I fear I might’ve acted extremely selfish and should���ve stopped to take his lack of experience and his naivety into account. Of course he’d sleep with me, he’s 20 and doesn’t know any better. It should’ve been my job, as the older adult, to put a stop to it. Please don’t hesitate to give it to me straight.

AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[drdemonprince]

When other people say that they do not have enough time to get something done, they (often, if they're quite healthy) mean they are taking into account the time it takes to do the laundry and arrange new pieces of furniture and cook dinner and meet up with friends to see a movie and run to the post office or the hair dresser and take the dog for walks and do the dishes and paint their nails and drive to the store and go to their cousin's wedding and go to the barbecue their friend is throwing on the weekend

they don't winnow their life down to just spending time at the computer, working from when they wake up until they cannot focus their eyes anymore, granola bars, coffee, and bottles of water all around them because of course they did not take time to have lunch or breakfast, only dragging themselves away from work when they are truly too exhausted to do any of it anymore, and then lacking the energy to do much of anything that remains of life but to eat a tiny bit more, sponge themselves off, and go to sleep.

i just saw a video of a fursuiter on their bed, legs kicked back, head propped on their hands, delightedly announcing that after many years of hard work they had finally finished their Master's degree. And some part of me, some sick withered part, thought really? you had time to do a Master's degree while also getting a fursuit done? and going to conventions, presumably? you had time in the day to research fursuit makers, have a sona designed and drawn by someone else (or to draw it yourself), to contact a maker to make a duck tape dummy of yourself, and to have a friend over to help you make it and to cut it off of you, to send it in the mail to the maker, to then get it and make videos? you had time to set up this beautiful bedroom that i see in your video, with a soft pink sham on the bed and LED lights behind your bookshelf and lamps and all kinds of stuffed toys? you had a life? you were out playing, and dancing, and pursuing your hobbies, and you did a master's degree?

because when i was working on my doctorate, there was nothing. three layers of foam on the floor with a fitted sheet over it. a folding card table from aldi that had cost $40 that my grandparents got me. no food in the fridge. no time to even get the internet installed, just stolen wi-fi when my laptop could pick it up. i woke up, got dressed, and slunk into the office. i sat alone in the dark working until my hunger made me furious and i could not write another word. and then i walked to the grocery store, got something to subsist on, went home, ate, kickboxing video, went to sleep. every day. with almost nothing breaking the routine.

and ive gotten better, so much better, but my brain still kind of works that way. i feel like i have to quit my job and stop being a writer if i want to have hobbies. to paint my bedroom. to marinate a meat for longer than fifteen minutes. to get a driver's license again. to take a trip. but i dont want to be like that any more. how do people know when to stop? i feel like i have to give everything my absolute all until there is nothing left or else i have done nothing. i feel that i would have to treat a hobby like a job to get it done. I feel that anything that takes more than two minutes is a huge waste of time i must feel guilty for. i am working on all these things. jesus i have been working on them for years at this point. but because i have been so successful at telling people to do less, i get pulled in. interview. workshop invitation. email. urgent in the subject line. call from my agent. meeting request from my boss. new book idea, better sell it now while my sales figures still look good. recording studio session. deadline. writing. can you talk about this. can you talk about that. tag. email. book idea. deadline. long heartfelt email. still so often i have to take my own damn advice.

and this is why i am getting a fursuit made!! and going to cons! and going to leather and latex events! and making socials that are separate for these things!! i am going to let myself be silly and soft and do frivolous things. i am so sick of what i do to myself, all the pursuit of seeming like a strong mature adult.

[zombieunicorngamerzu]

Jackie Taylor x fem reader

(Jackie Taylor x fem reader - reader with body dysmorphia)

[Warnings - Talk of eating disorders and body dysmorphia, closeted lesbians, love confession, first times, body worship, praise, gentle soft-top Jackie, fingering, oral, vibrator, thigh riding]

You were checking yourself in the locker room mirror for the fifth time, frowning with focus as you pulled down on your shirt, sucking in. You had always been a curvier girl, always comparing yourself to every other girl you saw and thinking in your mind, “That’s what a normal body looks like, skinny, toned, pretty, while you were just curvy, thick, chubby as every single guy you spoke to would say. That’s one of the reasons you were now a closeted lesbian, I mean, it was 1996, lesbians weren’t really excepted and the only open lesbian you knew was Van, she was a really good friend to you and she had close to the same body type as you, but she had confidence and you just didn’t, you wished you could be as non-caring as her.

Jackie frowned from the corner as she did Shauna’s paint for the field, she always kept an eye on you, as the leader of the team and one of your friends she had to, but also it may be because she feels a little something more… But anyways, she kept seeing you tug at your uniform. Jackie kinda knew you always had problems with body confidence and eating, you always denied snacks or food when offered and only ever ate an apple or a granola bar for lunch. She tried multiple times to offer you food but you always said you liked eating the same thing every day, that it gave you routine and structure. The way you said it made Jackie worry, she always worried about you because she knows of your family life. Your parents, whom she met on occasions were super overprotective, Christian, conservative, republican people who sheltered you way too much, you were actually homeschooled only until this year when you finally got your parents to let you go to school just so you could play soccer.

At first your parents didn’t agree, saying how they didn’t want you to wear the uniforms that were too short, but you were able to get a custom uniform online with sleeves that went down to your elbows and shorts that went down to your knees and you promised them that you would excel and you’d get amazing grades. It put a extreme amount of pressure on you to be perfect all the time, sometimes you forgot to eat, or you’d skip lunch and go to study hall instead. Everybody on the team really worried about you because of this, especially Jackie, Lottie, and Van. Luckily this year at school you had kept up with the perfect image, getting straight A’s, behaving good at home and school, and doing your absolute grueling best at soccer and practice so you could show your parents that you were the best, even your coach told you that you needed to relax at some point, but you always just said you liked to work and move, it keeps you distracted.

“Hey, Y/N, are you okay? Jackie spoke with concern as she walked over to you, pulling you out of your thoughts, giving her a quick smile which she saw straight through as you spoke, “Yeah, I’m fine, just fixing my shirt.” She only nodded and crossed her arms, giving you a gentle look, “That’s the sixth time you’ve fixed your shirt Y/N, look, you look gorgeous, okay?” She smiled brighter as she turned you to face yourself in the mirror, making you blush simply from her hands on your shoulders as she looked at you through the mirror, “Even with this baggy conservative ass uniform, your one of the very few that can pull it off and make it look sexy.” She finished, making your heart speed up, (Did Jackie really think you were sexy?) “I’m not really going for sexy, I don’t like when people notice me like that.” You mumbled out, you really liked to just be invisible. You loved to be the best at things, but you never wanted to be noticed for your efforts.

“Well then, sorry toots but you are, your pretty and so sexy that even with this uniform that covers up all your good bits, you have the boys always drooling after you like dogs with a bone.” She complimented you, Jackie was tying to hype you up, to be the team leader and give you a pep talk, but really all it did was make you embarrassed and shy, blushing, you didn’t really believe her, every time you got compliments you thought they were out of pity, of coarse Jackie would give you compliments, she’s perfect. “Isn’t that right girls, Y/N is absolutely beautiful?” She yelled out with a smile, getting rounds of playful wolf-whistled, noises, “Damn straight!” Van called out with a smile while whipping Taissa with a towel, making her jump and nod. “Yeah, Y/N, you have no idea how pretty you are, I wish I had your curves honestly.” Lottie just smiled and walked up to you with that little head tilt she does, her eyes soft as she reached for your hands, looking you in the eyes, “Y/N, you shouldn’t even waste time worrying about your looks, your absolutely adorable and one of our best players, we all see how hard you work yourself, your beautiful and you shouldn’t ever think otherwise.” You smiled tenderly at Lottie’s little pep talk, but Jackie, Jackie honestly felt a wave of jealousy watching Lottie with you, a quick frown crossing her face, (Why did Lotties pep talk comfort you but hers didn’t, what’s so special about Lottie?” She thought, unconsciously dropping her hands from your shoulders to your waist to hug you from behind and nuzzle your shoulder with a smile, pretending to playfully pull you back against her in a “friendly” hug and totally not just doing that to get you away from Lottie.

You just laughed a little with a pink blush from all the attention, compliments, and Jackie’s hug, your heart was pattering so fast you were terrified Jackie would feel it or somehow see how you had this overwhelming crush on her. Jackie finally pulled back from the hug, calling the girls so you could head out onto the field and start practice, “Alright, let’s go Yellowjackets!” She cheered with a jump before you were all jogging out onto the field for another day of grueling practice. You worked your ass off like usual, only today you were driven by anger, or self-hatred, you were running and sweating, trying to mentally burn off as many calories as possible, really pushing yourself today, and it didn’t help that the softball boys were practicing right on the open field beside the team, shouting wolf-whistles and gross compliments. It only spurred you on more, which the team seemed to notice your attitude, getting some worried glances from the girls and coach, but Jackie was paying the most attention, coming over to you after practice as you were sitting on the grass, panting heavily while tying your shoes, sitting down next to you, “Hey, Y/N, nice footwork out there, what’s got you so pumped?” She tried to seem like she was teasing, her smile as she nudged your shoulder with hers, nodding over towards the boys, “You trying to make a good show for the boys?”

She just teased lightheartedly, Jackie really hoped that you didn’t like any of the boys, but she just wanted to use that as an excuse. She didn’t know if you were interested in her the way she was into you, and really, Jackie herself was severely confused about her sexuality but after so many nights fantasizing about what it would be like to be with a girl, only being able to masterbate and cum to the thought of girls, she assumed she was definitely lesbian. Even when she was dating Jeff she had to fake so many orgasms, she was only with him to try to convince herself to be straight, but eventually she just knew it would never work so she broke it off. You frowned at her question, you always got so worked up when Jackie would tease you about being interested In boys, that’s one of the reasons why Jackie did it, she thought you were adorable when you got flustered, your scoff as you looked up at her, “What? Of coarse not, they disgust me just from their stares.” You grumbled out, that was the truth, men just disgusted you, even from a young age while girls were fawning and gushing over boys you never got that attraction, you forced yourself to “date” like three boys in your lifetime and every single time all they ever said was, (They liked that you were thicker than other girls.) It just made you feel disgusted by your own body, knowing that was all you were seen for was… heartbreaking for you, and you grew a hated towards men instead. “You were just really working yourself out there, even Lottie couldn’t keep up with you.” Jackie chuckled with a worried look, but you were too busy looking down at your shoes, sighing, “Look Jackie, I’m fine, I just wanted to do my best.”

“Oh that was definitely your best, I’m proud of you.” Jackie smiled, putting her hand on your back in soothing rubs, making you soften a little bit and blush, looking up at her with a more sullen look of defeat, you were really tired and it was hard to keep hiding your feelings, Jackie’s expression softened too at your look, silently giving you a look of understanding as she spoke gently, “Hey, it’s Friday, how about you text your parents and ask if you can spend the night for a sleepover at my place?” You immediately smiled a little at the idea, your parents met Jackie already and they got the best impression from her and met her parents, they thought Jackie was the perfect little princess, (due to Jackie’s amazing acting skills) she won your parents trust and favor. So when you texted your parents while getting dressed in the locker room after practice, you got a yes as long as you were home by Sunday for church. Smiling at your phone before shutting your locker, you looked over at Jackie with excitement and relief, “They said I could-“ Jackie cut you off with a teasing smile and tone with her hands on her hips, “As long as your home by Sunday, yeah, yeah.” You giggled at Jackie which made her only smile more, she loved it when she got to make you smile or laugh, you rarely ever did due to your constant state of stress, so she treasured those moments.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jackie smiled as she jingled her keys, giving you a playful look as she wiggled her brows, you just smiled gently with a nod, grabbing your duffel bag before heading out with her to the parking lot. You got stopped by Jeff and some of his boys in a truck next to Jackie’s car, you could practically predict some sexual remarks as soon as you saw their smiles and stares, like predators with their prey, Jackie grabbed your hand immediately with a confident look on her face, leaning closer to you to speak gently, “Hey, don’t worry, their just assholes, ignore them.” She gave you a gentle squeeze with your hand in hers, you always felt so protected by Jackie, it made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, your heart was pounding as she led you to her car, one of the boys shouting out from the trunk of the truck, “Hey, church mouse, show us your tits!” Jackie glared burning holes into the guys, that was your name at school, church mouse, it was derogatory because you were quiet, more private, and just a good girl overall. “Fuck off pervs, you wish!” Jackie spat back at them with a roll of her eyes, guiding you into her car before she got in on the other side, slamming the door and putting a tape in to turn on some music and drown out the guys before pulling out of the parking lot. “Hey, I’m sorry about those assholes, men only think one thing, sex, my mom always told me that.” Jackie gives you a gentle smile which you were grateful for. “It’s fine, thanks for standing up for me.” Jackie just nodded, her expression was so caring, reaching her hand over to place on your knee with a gentle squeeze, “Always.”

You got to Jackie’s house in about 30 minutes, she didn’t live too far, getting out of the car with your bag as she led you inside her house. Jackie’s parents were on vacation, which you didn’t know about, having the huge house all to yourselves which Jackie was practically jumping with excitement about as she led you up to her bedroom to settle in. “Are you hungry?” Jackie asked as soon as you both settled in, sitting down on her bed beside you, “I can order pizza or something while you take a shower.” She spoke with a hopeful tone that you’d say yes, she hadn’t seen you eat for the past couple of days and she noticed you’d lost some weight, your uniform shorts getting baggier than usual. You frowned at her words, you didn’t wanna say no and have her be suspicious, but also you didn’t wanna eat pizza, terrified of gaining weight. Jackie must have seen the worry and stress on your face, sitting up more in her bed to sit on her knees and take your hands, smiling reassuringly as she shook her head, “Or I can go downstairs and make us both fruit salads, Dad just got some fruit at the market the other day.” She tried to find to find someway to get you to relax and eat, “Because I’m starving, how does that sound.” You felt a wave of relief at her alternative suggestion, fruit wouldn’t hurt you as long as you didn’t overdue it, nodding with a small smile, “Yeah, sure, if it’s not too much trouble for you, I’m sorry to make you do that for me.” You apologized before she shook her head, “No, no, Y/N, i love doing things for you, go take a shower and I’ll come back up with a bowl for us and we can watch movies and just relax.” She smiled affectionately, getting out of bed swiftly.

You just nodded and headed to Jackie’s bathroom, she had one attached to her bedroom. You decided to take a quick hot shower, getting out once you were done before realizing you forgot to grab a change of clothes from your bag, cursing as you walked back into Jackie’s room, she wasn’t back yet so you just thought to drop your towel and get dressed, but unlucky or lucky for you Jackie was literally right at the door, holding two bowls, stopped with a burning blush and her mouth open as she caught a glimpse of your beautiful body through a wide crack in the door, since it was just you two, neither of you thought to close doors really. Jackie blinked a couple of times just in shock, you were so gorgeous, she just wanted to walk in and do unholy things to you, but she had to keep her secret until she was sure you weren’t straight. She decided to do a alternative, pretending to walk in with a loud. “OH! Sorry, Y/N, I thought you’d be done already.” She spoke quickly as she turned around quickly, you jumped with a burning blush on your cheeks at her having seen you naked, quickly pulling your shirt and shorts on, “God, I’m sorry Jackie- I didn’t even think.” She cut you off with a shake of her head before turning around once you were dressed with a blush, “No, hey- it’s okay, we’re both girls.” She chuckled out nervously, trying to hide the fact that she is blushing so hard not from embarrassment but from attraction to you, handing you a bowl of fruit which you took before sitting back in a beanbag chair in her room, there was a couple moments of awkward silence as you took a few hesitant bites while Jackie met your eyes a few times, “Y/N, you know your beautiful, right?” Her sudden words caught you off guard, rolling your eyes with a sigh which Jackie caught, “Hey, I’m serious Y/N, you are.” You just shook your head, speaking out mid-chew,

“Of coarse you’d say that, your literally perfect Jackie.” Your words made her blush with a soft smile as she stared over at you with a affectionate look. “I’m not perfect, but thank you.” She spoke shyer, shrugging before speaking again as she sat down her bowl, watching you eat while biting her lip, she was trying to be careful with what she said. “Y/N, can I tell you something?” You looked up at the hesitancy In her tone, nodding as you gave her your full attention as she stood up to sit closer to you in her bed, “I have a crush, on this person… and I’m not sure they feel the same way I do.” You felt your heart shatter at her words, at seeing your brief expression because she felt her heart flutter with hope, just a friend wouldn’t look so devastated at her best friends confession, you didn’t really know what to say except, “Oh, um, well- why don’t you just tell them, be blunt, the worst they can do is say no.” You shrugged, you were always a no none sense, blunt kinda person, you hated wasting time and beating around the bush. Jackie just smiled and chuckled at your advice, she always admired your advice, looking down as she spoke, “It’s not that easy, their a friend of mine and I don’t wanna ruin our friendship.” You shifted in your spot with empathy for her, it felt super awkward to give her relationship advice while your heart was breaking at the thought of Jackie being with anyone, “If they make you happy and it’s torture not being with them, isn’t it worth the risk instead of suffering?” You spoke from your heart, realizing how close you and Jackie were when you saw her nod, her eyes briefly flickering down to your lips, god- you were such a hypocrite, and fuck- why is she so pretty?

“She’s too important for me to loose.” Jackie spoke out softly before her eyes widened, realizing what she just confessed when she saw your expression change, it wasn’t hard to click the pieces together just the, she meant you, Jackie liked you? You knew it was you as soon as she said, she. Jackie quickly just took in your shocked expression before catching you copy her, your eyes flickering down to her lips, making her swallow and slowly lean in closer, her heart racing when you didn’t pull away, her hand reaching up to your cheek before she pressed her lips against yours in a slow, passionate, deep kiss, sighing out against your lips in pure relief when you started to kiss her back. You were so happy you couldn’t help but smile against her lips, making her smile too, pulling away with such a bright smile it made your heart flutter, the both of you catching your breath as you stared into each others eyes, her voice was a little raspier than normal, making you flush, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” Her words shocked you, you were so sure Jackie was straight, you’d trained yourself to be heartbroken and miserable your whole friendship with Jackie while watching her with Jeff, but now she was confessing she liked you? It felt like a dream. You just stared at her with this look in your eyes that made Jackie heat up, you looked so adorable to her, leaning back closer as she sat up on her knees, cupping your cheek with a soft tone,

“Your so beautiful… please, let me show you how beautiful I think you are.” Jackie husked out while slowly pushing you down on her bed, carefully straddling your lap with a shutter when she felt how hot you were against her core through the thin fabric of both of yours sleep shorts, god she was embarrassingly wet already, sighing out as her eyes fluttered, looking down at you as she gently slid her hands under your shirt to your hips, rasping out, “Is this okay, Y/N?” She asked you gently, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You just nodded with a breathy, “Yes, Jackie…” She smiled down at you so sexy, rolling her tongue against her teeth before leaning down to kiss you slow and deep, nibbling on your bottom lip a few times as she rolled her hips for the first time, the noise you made against Jackie’s lips made her groan, pulling back with a nuzzle to your nose, tugging your shirt off over your head, “Your so fucking perfect, Y/N, I swear to god…” she spoke with such passion and adoration as she squirmed in your lap to sit back and kiss down your neck to your chest, her hand sliding behind your back for your bra clasp, making you shutter as she spoke again for consent, her breath against your ear as she pushed down against you, “Can I?” You were hesitant this time which she noticed immediately, skipping your bra to rub your back and pepper more kisses across your gave this time which made you giggle, “Jackie…”

She smiled at your giggles, “What? I’m just appreciating the beautiful baby girl I have under me.” Her words made you blush, rolling your eyes before Jackie cupped your chin and guided your eyes back to hers with a more sensual tone, “I mean it, Y/N, I mean it when I say your beautiful and perfect and sweet and gorgeous…” The more she spoke the more embarrassed you got, so you decided to change the roles, pushing up your hips before grabbing Jackie’s waist to flip the two of you, getting a surprised squeal from her as her head hit the pillows, the bed squeaking as you threw your leg over her waist to straddle her instead, you had a tendency to get defensive or controlling when embarrassed or vulnerable, leaning down to husk against her hips with a lustful look,

“I think the beautiful one here is you, why don’t I show you instead?” Jackie just blushed, biting her lip, she wanted to worship you, to show you that you were gorgeous and that she wanted to take care of you, but also she didn’t wanna deny you the pleasure of getting to take control either if that’s what you needed, she’d be happy to receive.

“H-hey um- I have a vibrator in my dresser if-“ You were already reaching for her nightstand before she finished, making Jackie smile as she sat up on her elbows, laughing as you almost fell out of bed, you were just too eager and excited to see how Jackie would respond to pleasure, I mean you thought about, fantasized about it, but to get the real thing? Oh god… You were quick to crawl back to her side, and oh god, the smile on Jackie’s face was so adorable, like she only had eyes for you, leaning down to kiss her delicately before clicking on the tiny pink vibrator, deepening the kiss as you spread her thighs open more, making her sigh out against your lips, her eyes fluttering as you pressed the vibrator to her clit, moaning into your mouth with a shaky gasp, “Y-Y/N, O-Oh fuck- baby…” she was already panting against your lips, laying back in a arch as you circled the vibrator around her clit.

You bit your lip with a soft moan at watching her, making Jackie get louder. Jackie was panting, trembling, and squirming as she gripped at her sheets. When she heard your soft breathes and moans it only spurred her on, her voice getting higher and shakier before screaming slightly as you turned the vibe on a higher pace with a smile, “Y/N!” You only giggled out innocently, sliding your free hand up her torso to her cheek, caressing it while pressing the vibe harder against her clit, wiggling it as you leant down to nuzzle her cheek with a kiss, husking out the words that sent her over the edge, “Cum for me, Jackie…”

As soon as Jackie heard those words and locked eyes with you, she was gasping quickly and tensing, her face twisting into a pained-pleasurable expression while her mouth dropped open in a breathy-whiney moan while trying to maintain eye contact, she came harder than she ever had, screaming out at the intensity of her orgasm and the stimulation on her clit, crying as she lurched up, kissing you roughly so you could swallow her whimpers, slowly calming down into breathy pants, you watched as she slowly started to slump back down in a flushed mess, taking the vibrator off her clit before laying next to her, kissing her cheek, “Your so beautiful Jackie…” she chuckled out breathlessly before whining, her face scrunching up, “I was supposed to make you feel cared for, not the other way around…” You just giggled, you feel alot more comfortable at Jackie’s side after making her cum.

Suddenly after a couple minutes of snuggling and silence, Jackie sat up with a soft look before reaching for your shorts with a experimental tug while locking eyes with you, asking for permission, “A-Are you okay with me- you know… using my mouth on you?” Jackie spoke out so softly, a timid look on her face as she bit her lip with such a pouty look like a puppy, “Please? I wanna taste you, Y/N…” she practically whined out, making you whine at her cuteness, feeling a little embarrassed and self conscious about what she’s going to think about seeing you but Jackie just tapped your thigh, she saw you overthinking so she kissed your inner thigh, “Baby? Hey, i mean it when i say your beautiful. Every. Single. Fucking. Part. Of. You.” She spoke out between kisses as she slowly pulled off your shorts and panties, she looked completely in awe at the sight of your soaked pussy, her breath quickening as you saw her pupils dilate, her lips twitching into a smile, she looked disheveled, wild, primal, she looked like she wanted to devour you.

And devour you, she did.

Jackie immediately got to work at the first nod of permission, she didn’t use her vibrator, she didn’t need it, she was determined to pleasure you and she damn well was gonna show you how much she meant she cared about you, crawling up into her knees as she bent down into a arch, spreading your thighs open while rubbing her hands up and down your inner thighs soothingly, she thought your thighs were so soft and squishy, mumbling out to you, “I can’t wait to have you squeeze your thighs around my head baby.” Her words made your jaw drop, blushing so red as you let out a noise you didn’t know you could make, Jackie just smiled wildly, pushing your thighs up to your chest and holding them there before burying her face between your thighs. She went wild, pushing her tongue straight through your folds like she was starved, sucking on your clit before darting her tongue inside you, making you gasp out a moan, jerking with such surprise at the intensity of her actions. (Fuck, you really didn’t know Jackie was so good at this) Jackie ate you out like a starved woman, moaning and sighing out against your clit, every roll of her tongue and suck made you make noises you didn’t even know existed and Jackie was so fucking proud of herself, when Jackie pushed a finger inside you, you were surprised at how different hers felt from your own, it was different, but Jackie’s fingers were almost as experienced as yours, she knew exactly where to curl and pump, suckling on your clit while she flicked her tongue over your bud all while pumping her fingers at a quicker pace, it wasn’t long before you were trembling and tensing with a loud cry, clamping down on Jackie’s fingers so tight it made her moan as you came, covering her fingers in cum which she licked up every drop, her voice was so husky and hot when she spoke, you were recovering from your earth shattering orgasm, vision still back with muffled hearing as you heard her,

“Good girl, baby.”

You just smiled lazily, panting heavily as Jackie squirmed to lay down beside you, wrapping her arms around your waist to spoon you and kiss your shoulder, “Im so proud of you baby, your so fucking pretty when you cum.” You just rolled your eyes, making Jackie frown a little, tightening her arms around your waist, “Y/N, do I need to fuck you in front of my mirror and make you watch yourself until you believe it?” You choked on nothing at her words, eyes widening with your mouth open in shock at her words.

You had no idea how serious she was to do it either.

(Worked all fucking day on this masterpiece, nobody can convince me Jackie was straight, sorry not sorry)

[waywardxwords]

The Fix - Part Six

Summary: Everyone has a past, but yours seemed to haunt you. You've tried to move forward with a normal life, but the day comes when that's not possible anymore. When Sheriff Beau Arlen enters your life, you're certain he is going to judge you just like everyone else in town does. But something about Beau is different.

Warnings: Language, maybe some fluff *eye emoji*

Word Count: ~4.3k

Beau had called the FBI as he drove to the hospital, and then again when you and Bailey were in with the doctor. Everything had checked out—Bailey was unharmed. She was a little dehydrated, but otherwise, she was fine. She was scared and didn’t understand what had happened. You had assured her everything would be okay, but didn’t know how else to explain everything that had taken place with her father. 

You sat in the back of Beau’s truck, your hands held tight to Bailey as you couldn’t bring yourself to let go. 

“Are you sure you aren’t hurt anywhere?” You asked her as your hands danced over her head, her arms. Your eyes moved over every inch of her to look for any injuries. 

“No, mama,” she said softly. “But I’m cold…and hungry.” 

Beau heard her words and cranked up the heat in the truck. You thanked him softly. He reached for the duffel again and leaned back to say, “There’s a granola bar in there and trail mix. Water, too. Make sure she’s hydrated.”

You found the bar, the trail mix and water and opened the packages for her to eat. As she ate and Beau drove, you looked out the window. You weren’t sure where Beau was taking you at this point, but you knew it wasn’t in the direction of your home. It didn’t even matter, really. You were in a daze at this point and you were willing to admit that you wholeheartedly trusted Beau. 

As if he could read your mind, Beau cleared his throat from the driver’s seat. “We’re heading to my office. They want to ask Bailey some questions.” His eyes moved between you and Bailey in the backseat. It was as if he anticipated your concern. “It’s gonna be alright. They want to try to see what she remembers while it’s fresh on her mind. We will both be there, and you’ll have eyes on her the entire time.”

It was as if Beau had stepped into your brain and carefully tended to each issue you had with this scenario. 

“Who will be asking the questions?” You contemplated, silently hoping it might be Beau. 

“They have an agent coming who works with kids,” he explained as he made the turn into the sheriff’s office parking lot. 

“You can’t be the one to question her?” You asked. 

He shook his head before he continued. “Sorry, darlin’. The FBI is managing it from here.” It felt like you hadn’t gotten the entire story, but you stayed quiet. Exhaustion had overcome you, but you felt like you couldn’t truly rest. There was no way to know what else might be out there—or who, rather. So instead, you sighed as Beau shifted into park and turned your attention to Bailey. 

“Hey, B?” You started softly as you unbuckled her from her seat. “There are some people who want to talk to you about your…” you hesitated. Bailey hadn’t fully understood what she had endured, and you wanted to try your best to avoid traumatizing her any further. “About your adventure…” you settled on the wording. A quick glance to the rear view mirror, you saw Beau’s gaze on you. He gave you a small nod with a wink. “I want you to answer all of their questions, okay?”

“Okay,” she answered easily. Besides being hungry, tired and cold—she had seemed okay, all things considered. 

“Thank you,” you breathed with a smile. You stepped out of the truck first, and reached in to help Bailey get out. You clutched her hand tightly as you followed Beau into the office.

Before he pulled open the glass door, Beau looked back at you. “You take issue with any question or any part of all this, and you tell me?” His eyes were firm with intent, but gentle in his delivery.

“Okay,” you agreed. He nodded once and then opened the door for you and Bailey to walk through, with him just a step behind you.

Immediately, you recognized the man in a suit in the lobby as Matt Donahue, the FBI agent who had been working on Jackson’s case. He approached you with a serious look on his face, and his eyes moved over Beau just behind you. He looked less than pleased. Behind him, there was a woman in a similar black suit. She stepped around the man you recognized and offered you a small, but warm, smile.

“Hi, I’m Agent Stephanie Michaels,” she introduced and put her hand out to shake yours. You offered her your name, and shook her hand gently. “And you must be Bailey.” She widened her smile and knelt down just in front of your daughter.

You felt Bailey’s hand that you weren’t holding grip onto your denim jacket as she melded her body to your side. “Hi,” her voice was just as small as she was.

“You can call me Stephanie, or Steph…whichever you prefer,” she grinned. “Hey, I have some cool toys and coloring books in this room over here. Would you want to color with me for a little bit?”

Bailey looked to you for reassurance. The idea of her being anywhere away from you–even if you were in the literal sheriff’s office–made you feel sick to your stomach. Your eyes traveled to Beau’s. You looked to him for the same reassurance your daughter had looked to you for, and there was something about that which felt different. All of your life, you had always felt so sure of yourself and the decisions you made. When you first became a mother, you weren’t so sure anymore–motherhood had made you question everything about yourself, but with time, you had become very sure of your decisions as they pertained to Bailey.

Beau offered a small smile and a nod, and somehow, that was enough for you.

“Go ahead, bug,” you smiled down at her with the nickname you had called her from birth. Your hand smoothed down over the top of her head and rested on her cheek. “I’ll be just outside in the other room. If you need me, you just tell Stephanie, okay?”

She nodded and looked back at the agent before she dropped your hand and followed her into the interrogation room. As soon as the door closed, you felt your breath hitch in the back of your throat and your heart raced. The burn of anxiety crept up your neck and settled  into your cheeks.

And then you felt a hand on the small of your back. “It’s gonna be alright, we’re going to watch from the other side,” his timing was impeccable. Your eyes found Beau’s with a small glance over your shoulder.

Words failed you as your throat had tightened, so you just nodded in response. Beau gingerly led you to the room that shared a wall with the interrogation room they were in. The room was dark, but there was a large glass window that looked into the room Bailey and Stephanie had ventured into. You knew the other side simply showed a mirror and Bailey would never know you were there. Matt followed you in, as well.

Stephanie had brought with her various toys and activities that a child would enjoy–there were Barbie dolls, baby dolls and coloring books. “What would you like to play with, Bailey?” She asked softly. You liked her. You didn’t like the situation you were in, but you felt safe with her. Stephanie was slowly shifting your opinion on FBI agents, and you realized she was the perfect person to work with kids in the line of work she was in.

“Um…I like Barbies! I have this one at home,” Bailey quickly reached for one of the dolls. 

“Okay, great! I can be this Barbie here,” Stephanie reached for a different doll and the two started playing.

“Hey,” Beau murmured from behind you. “I’m going to grab a coffee quick, would you like one?” He asked as you glanced back at him.

A smile tugged at your lips. “That would be great,” you sighed.

“How do you take it?” He asked. There was something about the way he was looking at you, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“Two cream, two sugar, please,” you smiled, appreciative. He nodded as he stepped outside the room and closed the door behind him.

You turned your attention back to Stephanie and Bailey. Stephanie was currently encouraging Bailey to act out what had transpired over the last day through the Barbie dolls. It was a challenge–Bailey had a wild, but beautifully creative, imagination. You knew it would take a little time to get her to talk through what they needed from her.

Matt cleared his throat next to you after a moment. “Can I ask you a question?” He kept his eyes on the glass for a second, but then turned to look at you.

“Sure,” you hesitated, but knew he was probably going to ask either way.

“What’s your relationship with the sheriff?” His eyes studied you, his jaw tense. His question completely blindsided you, which was probably obvious from your furrowed brows and the way your eyes widened.

“Excuse me?” You asked him incredulously.

“I’m curious. Friends? Family? More than that? I’m just trying to wrap my head around why the hell a sheriff–an interim sheriff, mind you–would go through so much trouble stepping all over the FBI on a case that’s miles above his pay grade,” he was blunt. “Especially a man who is trying to prove he’s the right guy to be the permanent sheriff in this town.” You knew what the answer was–you and Beau didn’t have any kind of relationship–but you were startled by the question and why he would ask in the first place.

“There is no relationship between Beau and I,” you explained slowly. “Listen, I know he caused some trouble for you and I’m sorry for that. He was trying to keep me safe and find my kid, which–by the way–I felt like the FBI couldn’t care any less about. You all were so gung-ho on finding Jackson, so Beau stepped in to help me find Bailey.”

Matt frowned again. “While yes, that was insanely frustrating, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about how Beau wouldn’t back down today. This interview was supposed to take place on FBI territory. He downright refused…he said we couldn’t talk to Bailey anywhere but here. And that you had to be present at all times.”

You blinked once, then twice as you processed what he said. Beau had fought, yet again, to keep you and Bailey safe and comfortable. 

“He what?” You finally breathed.

“That’s why I asked. I figured you must be family or he must seriously care about you,” Matt looked back at the glass but you stayed silent as your mind tried to work through this new information.

Meanwhile in the small office kitchen, Beau watched as the dark colored liquid slowly began to trickle into the pot on the coffee maker. He found himself lost in thought as the pot slowly filled, but was interrupted when someone cleared their throat from behind.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Beau,” she sighed. Beau turned to see one of his investigators, Cassie Dewell, lean against the countertop behind him.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” Beau looked back to the coffee as it continued to trickle.

Cassie rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the counter to step closer to Beau. “You’re really going to take on the FBI? The big dogs who call all the shots? Do you want to be unemployed?” She sighed. Beau’s eyes found hers. She was concerned for him, and he appreciated it. But the thoughts and feelings he had swirling in his head over the last day had made it difficult for him to think clearly about anything.

“My job is to protect the people in this town,” he said very clearly. “She just got her daughter back, Cassie. You want me to send them to some strange place where they’re forced to be separated? You think Bailey’s gonna want to answer any questions that way? I wouldn’t,” he scoffed but redirected his attention to grab two styrofoam cups from the cupboard.

“This is something else…this is different, Beau,” she dropped her voice to a gentle whisper as she watched his movements. 

He didn’t need Cassie to say the words to know that she was right. “I’ve always been so good at keeping my head on straight when it comes to work,” he didn’t want to open up to Cassie; he hadn’t even wanted to address his thoughts or feelings internally yet. But he spoke on it anyway. “But this has been different. It’s almost like when…” he stopped himself as he stared at the styrofoam cups.

“Like when Emily was missing?” Cassie answered for him.

His eyes found hers again and he felt his throat tighten, which only made him somewhat frustrated. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Cassie. I hear you, I know I need to tread carefully but I also wanna make sure I’m doing what’s best for the people in this town.”

“The people in this town, or–” Beau cut her off before she could say anything else.

“They are two people who live in this town,” he said firmly. “And right now, they need my help.”

“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender. “I’m just encouraging you to stop pissing off the FBI, okay? We kinda like having you here. It would be really shitty if you got fired.” She offered a small smile to ease some of the tension their conversation had created.

Beau nodded and looked back at the pot where the coffee was ready.

“Thanks,” he grinned in return. “I’ll do my best.”

Hours had passed–the agents had ordered pizza as a late lunch (or early dinner, even) for you and Bailey. Bailey had given some additional information (it had just been her and Jackson on their “adventure”, she hadn’t seen anyone, and her father hadn’t treated her poorly but he seemed “different”). You knew that meant Jackson had been out of his mind while he was with Bailey, which made you feel sick again, but also thankful that she was alright.

Finally, Stephanie and Matt had determined there were no other questions they needed to get answered, and they said you were free to go. 

Their words hung in the air as you stood before them. Free to go. You didn’t know what that meant. You didn’t feel like you could possibly return to your home. While you felt sure that Bailey hadn’t been exposed to any drug dealers or criminals, you couldn’t be so sure that they weren’t still going to look for you. With Jackson in jail, your brain had already processed that there could be people looking for collateral or to send a message. You weren’t an idiot; you knew the FBI would try to get Jackson to rat out the people he had worked with–they were looking for the big dogs, and Jackson wasn’t one of them.

“You alright?” Beau asked after the agents left. Bailey had curled up on a chair in the lobby–she was exhausted and needed to get to bed.

“Y-yeah,” you stumbled over the word, but offered him a smile anyway. “It just feels weird, you know? Just that it’s all over–like that’s it,” you sighed. “I’m grateful, don’t get me wrong. It just feels strange.”

Beau’s eyes studied you again–it was something he seemed less afraid to do the longer you were around him. Surprisingly, it didn’t make you uncomfortable–you just didn’t want him to see all of the feelings passing through you: fear, anxiety, overwhelming worry.

“Listen, I don’t want to overstep,” Beau eyed Bailey who was quickly beginning to fall asleep behind you on the lobby chair. “But if you’d like, you and Bailey can stay with me tonight. You two can take my room and I’ll get some shut eye on the couch.”

“Oh, no Beau,” you said quickly, though something inside of you was telling you to say yes. “We’ve put you out long enough. I’m not going to ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t ask,” his voice was a low murmur–the lowness made it so much more raspy than normal and it sent a shiver down your spine so that the little hairs on your neck stood to attention. “I’m offerin’. And I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it. Truthfully, I would feel better if you stayed with me. Otherwise, I’m gonna be up all night worryin’.”

You nodded and nibbled on your bottom lip as your eyes trailed over Bailey. You knew deep down you wouldn’t sleep, either, if you were alone with her at home. You’d be sitting with a kitchen knife by her bedside all night–and you hadn’t slept in so many hours, as it was.

“Alright,” you practically whispered. “If you’re sure.” A smile tugged at the corners of his lips and he nodded his head in agreement.

The drive to Beau’s home was silent–the only sound came from the rumble of his truck engine. Bailey slept peacefully against your side as you played aimlessly with her hair. The sun was pulling down behind the mountains now, and you had to think about what day it was. It had been the most exhausting, terrifying day of your life. The only thing keeping you upright was thinking about how you didn’t want Bailey out of your sight for even a moment.

The truck came to a stop just outside Beau’s trailer and he shifted into park.

Very gently, you unhooked your seatbelt and leaned over Bailey to do the same. Beau stepped out of the truck and opened the door closest to Bailey.

“I can…” he hesitated and his eyes watched you closely before he glanced down at Bailey and held his arms out to show you he could carry her. He knew you had been in mama bear mode for a long time, and he wasn’t going to make any sudden movements. 

“Oh, you don’t have to,” you whispered back. 

“I don’t mind, I just don’t want ya to claw out my jugular,” he half chuckled. Your cheeks reddened and you smiled. 

“It’s fine, you can carry her in,” both you and Beau realized that was your sign of ultimate trust—like a cat or dog showing you their belly. You trusted him with your kid, and that spoke volumes. 

He nodded once and very gently lifted her off of the seat and to his chest. You got out of the truck and followed him to the door. 

“Uh, any chance you could…” he hesitated for a moment. 

“Oh! Right, keys. Where are they?” You eyed his jacket pockets to see which one they might be in. 

He cleared his throat. “Jeans, back pocket.” You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in your throat. You hesitated for a moment. “They won’t bite, darlin’.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you carefully reached into his back pocket and pulled the keys out. “Sorry,” you murmured as you scooted by him on the step to open the door. You found the key and slipped it into the lock, opening the door with ease. 

“I’m gonna lay her down on the bed in the back,” he nodded back to, what you assumed was, his bedroom. You followed closely behind as he gently placed her on the bed. “I think she’ll be warm back here, but here’s an extra blanket.” He reached to the dresser and handed you a quilt. 

“Thanks,” you breathed as you carefully covered her up. You reached down and smoothed her hair away from her forehead. The sound of Beau’s boots retreating down the hall made its way to your ears. You couldn’t help but smile at Bailey sleeping soundly—safe. Your lips pressed to her forehead and you closed your eyes; she still smelled of the woods and the hospital, but you wouldn’t wake her for anything right now. A bath could wait. She was back, and she was okay. 

After a moment, you followed Beau’s footsteps to the front of the camper. 

You realized he had stepped outside and left the door ajar. The cool air from the Montana sky sent a chill over you, and you realized you still had on the denim jacket from the day before, a thin long-sleeve top and jeans. It would have to do.

As you stepped silently on the top step, you noticed Beau had started a fire. It wasn’t strong yet, but he poked at it to get the flame to grow. As you watched his profile in the orange glow of the fire, your heart fluttered. Your mind flashed back over the last day, and all the moments you had experienced with Beau:

The way he trusted that you didn’t know where Jackson was, but wanted to scan your place quickly to make sure he wasn’t there just a few days before. To keep you safe. 

The way he dropped everything when you finally used his number to come to you when Bailey went missing. 

The blatant disregard he had for the FBI when they said they had it handled; it wasn’t a power play, it was because he wanted to fix this. 

The way he held doors open for you, made sure you were being protected (and when he wasn’t sure the deputies or agents could handle it, he showed up to protect you), the way he spoke to you when you shared the abuse you had endured, the way he stayed calm when Jackson finally showed up so you could still try to find Bailey, the way he touched your face…and in that moment, everything clicked.

Beau felt the weight of your gaze and turned back to look at you from over his shoulder.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled. “Why’re you lookin’ at me like that, darlin’?” He seemed almost nervous as he stood to face you.

“Beau…” your throat felt dry, but what you had to say simply couldn’t wait. “Did you push back on the FBI today about where they would interrogate Bailey? And make it so that I could be there?”

He was silent for a moment. He brought his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed at the tension there to try and find inspiration on something to say. “I may have done that,” he said softly. “I wanted to make sure I could control the situation, just in case. I don’t trust that Donahue agent, and I didn’t know anything about the woman they wanted Bailey to talk to…” his voice trailed off as you walked towards him off of the steps.

A different kind of fear bubbled in your throat–this fear was around rejection or the disappointment of misreading someone, but you couldn’t take it anymore. You stood just inches in front of him, your face tilted upwards so you could look into his eyes.

“Who am I to you, Beau Arlen?” The words from Agent Donahue had repeated in your head for the last few hours, but you never thought you’d get the courage to ask Beau directly.

He was silent again, allowing the fear to boil at this point. Your heart raced like it had for the last day, albeit for different reasons. But then his gaze moved over your face from your nose, to your lips, to your eyes once more.

“You’re a mother–a damn good mother, might I add,” he started softly. “You’re a stubborn-as-hell woman, who doesn’t follow any kinda rules or direction. You’re someone who’s been through hell but you don’t wear a chip on your shoulder for it.” His voice was low and the rasp was back–you felt weak in the knees, but you couldn’t be sure if that was from what he was saying or the pure exhaustion that drenched you from head to toe. “And for whatever goddamn reason…I don’t care who I gotta go against when it comes to you and your kid. Including the FBI.” He added on. You swallowed to try and clear the dryness from your throat. He paused for a moment before he smirked. 

You glimpsed between his eyes and mouth once, twice…and then without missing a beat, Beau’s hands gripped just above your elbows. He pulled you flush against his chest and you felt the warmth of his lips on yours. He pulled back after just a moment to study your gaze.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he muttered as he closed his eyes shut tightly, as if he had just made a mistake. You read his features and brought your hand to his cheek to turn his face to meet your gaze. 

“If you don’t kiss me again, Beau Arlen…” your voice fell in a whisper as you teased, but your eyes told him you were serious. 

Carefully, and painfully slowly, Beau’s hands found your hips and he tugged you to him before you both closed your eyes and your lips found each other once more.

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH for reading (and for being patient--this one ended up being a bit longer than my usual chapters, so I hope that makes up for this being late!).

I hope I did this chapter justice. I would love to know what you thought! As always, thanks for reading, liking, commenting, and sharing!

New installments are posted on Wednesdays and Saturdays! Just a few more parts left in this story, I think...unless I get some crazy idea (which is always possible, hah).

A preview of the next chapter:

The fire had roared to life by now, with you and Beau settled on two camping chairs positioned so close together there was an overlap. There hadn’t been too many words spoken yet, but his hand held yours reassuringly in his lap as your eyes watched the flames and your bodies absorbed the warmth. The trailer door was left ajar, just in case Bailey woke up and called for you. 

Your eyes wandered to his profile and you couldn’t help but stare. “Starin’ ain’t polite, darlin’,” he drawled with a tired smile. His head turned to look at you–his eyes almost lazy at this point.

“Sorry,” your cheeks reddened once you had been caught. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

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[echo-goes-mmm]

Kitty Elliot AU #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: none

Elliot silently watched Ambrose prep for dinner, his tail tucked between his legs. 

“Do you like mushrooms?” Ambrose asked conversationally. 

Elliot said nothing, which seemed to be his default. Maybe he couldn’t, and wasn’t that a disturbing thought.

“I’m making oxtails,” he continued. “It takes a while to cook, but braised oxtail and mushrooms are one of my favorites.”

He glanced over at Elliot, who was still anxiously pressed against the lower cabinets. Poor thing.

Ambrose got the cast iron pot from storage. It was a large pot, one he used for stews.

“I like to use as much of an animal as I can,” he said, scraping the mushrooms into the pot with the back of his knife. “It’s more respectful, I think.”

He added the onions, garlic, and ground pepper. 

“Little Wood is a farming community, and they work so hard. I don’t want to waste their efforts, you know?”

___________________

Master was talking at him.

Elliot couldn’t really be bothered to pay attention, not with a knife in Master’s hands.

There were few things more dangerous than a Master’s hands. They hurt and grabbed and took things.

Besides, it didn’t matter that Master was chatting. Elliot had no permission- or want- to speak back, and the inane talk of ‘favorite food’ and ‘wastefulness’ meant nothing. They weren’t commands.

Elliot didn’t have a favorite anyway; he only ate what was given. 

The consequences of stealing weren’t worth it.

He watched as Master tore up herbs and ground up spices. It smelled good, and it made his mouth water.

Elliot swallowed his longing and carefully edged around Master and darted out the doorway.

And ran straight into James.

“Move, cat,” James huffed, shoving him aside and into the wood of the bar. It dug into his bruises, sending pains both sharp and dull through his body. Elliot bit back a yelp, and James passed by without a second glance. 

It was his fault for being in the way. 

He pulled himself away from the bar, wincing. Pets should be quiet and not underfoot. 

He made his way further into the dining room. It was empty for now, and the birds still sang. Sunlight came through the windows and looked so warm and inviting-

He hopped on the nearest window ledge, opting to sprawl out in the sun. He cushioned his head on his arms, and lay listening to the birds.

___________________

Elliot didn’t mean to doze off, but the sudden sound of a bell had him jolting awake.

The front door opened and closed with a ring of metal and his heart pounded.

But it was only a villager, come for dinner, no doubt. 

The air smelled strongly of tender beef and fresh bread, and he knew he wasn’t wanted here. Or at least, he didn’t want so many eyes on him.

He scrambled off the windowsill and slipped upstairs.

___________________

“Evening, Micheal.” Ambrose nodded at Mr. Tallow as he sat at the bar. “Dinner?”

“Please.”

Ambrose loaded a plate with beef, gravy, veggies, and a biscuit. He poured an ale, and slid the two across the bar.

“I saw a catfolk in the window.”

“He’s a guest.” He poured a few beers, handing it off to James to serve to a table.

“Little far from home, isn’t he?” Michael asked, taking a sip of ale. 

Ambrose shrugged, stacking empty glasses. “He hasn’t said.” He hasn’t said anything. At all. “How’s the wheat coming along?”

“Changing the subject, hm?” Micheal shook his head, teasing.

Ambrose shrugged, wiping down the bar. “I’d rather not gossip about my guests.”

“With that attitude, you’re just going to make people more curious. Is he staying long?”

Ambrose didn’t have many friends in town. Mostly just acquaintances; people who respected him but didn’t really know him.

Micheal was one of them. Maybe he could trust him to keep things discrete.

“Look, it’s really no one’s business. Elliot is shy, and scared, and he can stay as long as he wants.”

“Scared?” Micheal repeated, his brow furrowed.

“Just do me a favor and make sure it isn’t a big deal, yeah?”

Micheal nodded, taking another sip of ale. “You got it.”

___________________

Elliot curled up on the bed, waiting.

There must be at least a dozen people downstairs, talking and chatting and eating.

The smells were almost overwhelming, and the noise was palpable. He was sure he’d get used to it eventually, but it almost made him wish for the muffled quiet of the box.

Just the quiet. Not the box.

After hours of waiting, the people began to leave. Slowly but surely, the inn sounded empty, and Elliot’s stomach was once again wanting.

He poked his head out the door and listened. Nothing but Master and the sound of softly clinking dishes. Perfect.

Elliot quietly padded down the stairs and into the kitchen. No doubt Master would be clearing the plates, and if he were lucky, the scraps would be his dinner.

He knelt by the counter and waited for his owner.

___________________

Ambrose nearly dropped the stack of dishes he was carrying when he saw the cat boy on the floor.

His eyes were trained on the ground, but his twitching tail betrayed nervousness.

“Uh, hey,” he said, setting the dishes by the sink. “Did you come down for some dinner?”

Elliot looked up at him, whining. His hands came up to his chest, the picture of begging. His eyes glanced at the dirty plates on the counter, lingering on the scraps of food.

Definitely not. 

“Wait right here,” he said, turning to grab a clean plate. Elliot whimpered behind him, and Ambrose’s heart panged. 

“I’m not going to feed you bones and crumbs, sweetheart. You need more than that,” he reassured him, filling up the plate.

He glanced over at Elliot, who’s wide eyes were trained on the food in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you feel like sitting at a table this time?”

Elliot didn’t seem to hear him, too distracted.

Well, baby steps.

He put the plate on the floor in front of him, and Elliot eagerly looked up.

“Go ahead, it’s fine.”

Elliot used his hands at least, tearing apart the biscuits and sopping up the gravy with the bread.

Ambrose turned back to the sink, and started on the dishes.

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em

@thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle @mylovelyme @whump-cravings

@zeewbee @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @fanastyfinder @roblingoblin285 @whumpzone

@snakebites-and-ink @astrokea @latenightcupsofcoffee @tobiaslut @whumpsoda

@loserwithsyle @bitchaknso @taterswhump @fleur-a-whump @otterfrost

@hellodecisionparalysis @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @risk606 @i-walk-on-the-dark-side @phoenixpromptsandstuff

[reallypleasanttree]

Obamitsu Modern AU incomplete fanfic. I wrote this months ago and never posted it since I couldn’t figure out how to continue it.

Kyojuro: My boss is keeping me until close. Raincheck?

Obanai: Yeah. Does tomorrow work? 

The black haired man sighed. He and his brother planned this dinner a while ago to celebrate Obanai’s promotion. It had been postponed several times due to shitty weather or otherwise. What was another day? He pulled out his wallet and held up his hand to summon the waiter to pay for his drink. Well, drinks since he had ordered one for his brother. He would leave after finishing two whiskey sours.

“Can you pretend to be my date for five minutes?” Someone whispered in his ear. Before Obanai could respond, a pink haired woman sat down across from him. He was in a corner booth with glass panels above the leather bench. In this secluded spot, people would not have to look at his scars while he ate. 

Nervously, she looked beyond him. He turned his head slightly and noticed a tall blond man watching the pink haired girl intently. 

“Sure,” Obanai said, recognizing the obvious distress in her voice. She was all dolled up. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her makeup was exquisite with dark eyeliner framing her green eyes. Her lips are pale pink. She was quite pretty if not eccentric. 

“Thanks,” she let out a sigh of relief. “My friend stood me up,” she smiled at him. He picked up his drink. 

“My brother stood me up,” he commented. “Who’s the guy behind us?” He asked, lowering his voice. 

“A coworker. Sort of. We work for the same company, but different departments. He gives me the creeps,” she admitted. He nodded slowly and sipped his drink. 

“But I don’t?” Obanai asked. He had mismatched eyes, dark hair, and a face mask on despite being inside. Obanai had been told he gave people the creeps. The woman tilted her head considering his question. 

“No. You give off ‘Don’t mess with me’ vibes, not ‘I’ll kidnap you and hide you in my basement’ vibes,” she laughed and he found himself grinning at her weird sense of humor. “Plus, you were sitting alone, so I figured you could use the company,” she added. 

“You said a friend stood you up?” Obanai asked to change the subject. 

“Yeah, she was supposed to take me out for my birthday, but she had to cancel. One of her patients went into labor,” the woman pouted for a second. 

“It's your birthday? That blows,” he said and set down his drink. 

“It’s no big deal. She’ll make it up to me later. She always does,” her green eyes flickered over to her coworker. He was still standing at the bar watching her. He didn’t even bother to hide it. 

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Obanai asked and flexed his hand under the table. She threw him an anxious smile and shook her head. 

“No, it’ll be alright,” she said and looked down at the empty plate. It had been five minutes since she sat down. Obanai picked up a menu and gestured for her to do the same. 

“Your friend left you stranded, your coworker is creeping on you, and it’s your birthday. The least your fake date can do is pay for a meal,” Obanai said. She looked ready to refuse him. 

“You should know I have a big appetite,” she said and opened the menu. Compared to him, everyone had a bigger appetite. 

“That’s fine. Order whatever you want. I got a promotion recently, so I'll pay,” Obanai said. “You can have my brother’s whiskey sour if you want it.”

“You don’t take drinks from strangers,” she replied. Smart girl. 

“Obanai,” he placed his hand on the table for her to grab. He couldn’t exactly shake her hand in an official greeting if they were on a fake date. She reached across the table and settled her hand over his. It was smooth against his callouses.

“Mitsuri,” she grinned, catching on quickly. “Also, I don’t like whiskey sours.”

[autocrats-in-love]

Heyyyy your hero x villain writing is my favvvv I was wondering if you could do a small story about a civilian who is friends with villain, then one day when they are hanging out the hero swoops in and “rescues” civilian and no matter how many times they tell hero they are fine the hero doesn’t believe them. Maybe they think they’ve been brainwashed so they lock them in an empty room for their “protection” and villain comes and saves them. Maybe a little romance and fluff between civilian and villain..?

Heroes, Am I Right?

“For the last time, they’re my friend!” the civilian said, exasperated.

The hero looked at the civilian through the bars of the cage sceptically.

“I don’t think anyone would be friends with that. . .that. . .maniac.” they said.

A lot to unpack there, but the civilian wasn’t here to change the hero’s world views. They just wanted to get out of here. They and the villain had been hanging out at a park. The villain, who was decidedly one of their closest friends. Sure, they had to move some illegal, magical products to make ends meet, but no one is perfect. The two had been sitting on a bench, chatting, when the hero and several associates came out of nowhere. The hero scooped up the civilian--let’s get you somewhere safe--while four people surrounded the villain. The civilian only hoped that their friend was alright. 

“This is kidnapping. You can’t keep me here against my will.” the civilian said.

“If I think you aren’t of sound mind, I can keep you for observation-” the hero pulled something up on a computer.“-and this is all the proof I need that you’re under some sort of hypnosis.”

They showed the civilian the screen. On it were multiple security camera pictures. Pictures of the civilian and villain. At a restaurant, On a subway platform, laughing as they wait for a taxi. 

“You ate dinner with them?” the hero said incredulously. “Knowing what they’ve done?”

The civilian felt heat crawl up the back of their neck. That picture was taken after the civilian had a bad day at work. They were moping about their apartment when the villain called them.

“How did the presentation go?” the villain asked.

“Awful,” the civilian said. “It’s like no one thinks I know what I’m talking about.”

“People always underestimate the new kid.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Say, what are you doing tonight?” the villain said.

“Moping on my couch.”

“Perfect.”

“What?”

The villain promptly hung up, and there was a knock at the door.

“What is this?” the civilian asked when they saw the villain on the other side, dressed up in shiny shoes and a flowy shirt.

“I’m taking you to dinner, of course.” the villain said.

“Uh. . .” the civilian said, looking down at their pyjamas.

“The reservation’s in an hour, you better hurry up.” the villain said with a mischievous smile.

“Fine,” the civilian groaned, blushing. “But you’re waiting outside.”

“I actually have to go to the-”

“Too bad, you have to hold it.” 

The civilian stared at the photo, aware of how often they thought about that night, and how dry their mouth was. 

“No one with full control of their mental faculties would ever go out with this monster!” The hero exclaimed.

The civilian had to admit, the hero had a point. They seemed to lose their grasp of reality around the villain a bit. 

“They would never brainwash me,” the civilian said. “For one thing, they wouldn’t be able to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m pretty sure if they could do that, they would just get people to give them money without having to do all this crime.” the civilian pointed out.

The hero ignored them, turning their computer around and going back to what the civilian assumed was an intense documentation of the events that passed today. The civilian sighed and leaned back in their chair.

“They’re not so bad, once you get to know them.” the civilian said.

The hero scoffed.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re a bucket of sunshine.” 

The civilian shrugged. “Sometimes.”

The hero stared at the civilian, intrigued by their perspective. They set their computer on the table behind them and leaned forward.

“Like when?” they asked.

The civilian didn’t have time to answer, because a moment later the door was kicked open. The villain came running in, much to the surprise of the hero. The civilian smiled. This was going to be fun.

“Halt, evildoer!” The hero said, pushing the table to the side and getting in a fighting stance.

The civilian watched as the hero and villain fought, the villain repeatedly blocking blows and trying to get past the hero.

“Their left knee is weak!” the civilian called.

The hero heard, but was too late in redirecting the villain’s kick. The hero cried in pain and dropped to the floor. The villain grabbed the keys from them and wasted no time running over and freeing the civilian.

“How did you know about their knee?” the villain asked as the civilian stepped out.

“They limped a bit as they carried me away heroically.” the civilian said.

The villain smiled and pulled the civilian into a hug. 

“Are you okay?” the villain as they separated.

The civilian’s heart beat too fast in their chest. 

“Yeah. Just get me out of here, would you?”

“Alright, let’s go,” the villain said, taking the civilian’s hand and leading them out of the room.

[icallhimjoey]

All Goes South

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joe is overworked, tired, exhausted and just... he needs a break. Everyone knows it, too. None of it is really exciting to him anymore. Then, he meets you, and something reignites within him.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, drinking, rpf, fem!reader

Author’s note: Here's part 2! I know this might be going from 0 to 100 a bit fast, but listen, you're very intriguing and it's very difficult not to become completely obsessed with you, you know? Enjoy! :)

Wordcount: 4.1K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“So, what do they make you do?”

Joe coughed into his drink, getting some of it onto the table. You immediately moved in and offered hands that didn’t really do much instead of hover in space in front of him as beer dripped down Joe’s chin.

“You make it sound like I’m forced into labour,”

“Well, are you?”

Joe wiped his chin with his forearm before using both his hands to grab onto yours for a small squeeze, thanking you for the useless bit of help as they clearly weren’t needed. You gave a small smile, but Joe frowned as he went on to answer.

“I’m not, it’s just...” he trailed off, sighed, thought for a second, and then squared his shoulders. “You know what,” he sat up the straightest he could sit up. “Let’s not talk about work.”

“All right.”

Not all right. Not talking about work swiped every single topic you thought you could talk to him about off the table. Great.

“What about you? Do you work at that restaurant?”

It was your turn to hesitate to answer.

“You just said, let’s not talk about work,” you challenged, a small smirk playing your face.

“Oh, right,”

“But, I used to. Was there to grab a quick bite, they never turn me away. I ate stood in the kitchen, and then had a quick drink behind the bar... that’s when I noticed whatever you had going on at your table.”

Joe nodded, took another sip. An awkward silence took over. It dawned on you how stupid of a situation you’d placed Joe in, and you realised that Joe probably was thinking the same thing.

“Did I overstep? I don’t want to prod, but you looked functionally depressed back there,”

Joe sat back in his seat, looked at you a second, then said, “You did overstep, actually. But I went with you, didn’t I?”

He couldn’t really explain why either. But he had done. And now he was here, and Joe took in that he also could’ve gone home. You lead him through that kitchen out into that alleyway, and he could’ve just gone home. Crawled back into bed, like he’d wanted to do when he had been staring at himself in the bathroom for a couple of minutes at that restaurant. He could’ve gone home, but he hadn’t, and now he didn’t really want to anymore.

“I’m sorry,” you said, but Joe’s face was sort of... beaming, so you smirked, your apology definitely not sincere.

“Nope, not good enough,” Joe spoke into his drink before he had another sip, eyes on you as he drank. If Joe thought it hid his smile, he was wrong.

“Ah, man. I was afraid of that,” you giggled. “How will I ever make it up to you?” you asked, and when Joe didn’t answer fast enough, you added, “I got the first round,” implying it had to count for something. Because you wanted there to be- hoped there’d be more rounds. Many more rounds.

“You did, but this is only going to get me in more trouble, I’m afraid,”

A small silence fell where you both smiled at each other, each of you narrowing your eyes. It was playful in a way Joe hadn’t encountered before, not in a good while anyway, and although a little suspicious of it all, Joe was kind of into it. This whole flirtatious vibe he had going with a pretty stranger he somehow was now having drinks with. Instead, he was meant to be listening to people tell him about the upcoming three months of work right now... but this was definitely more fun.

Joe noticed that whenever he’d take a sip, you’d take one. He took a huge gulp to check, and when you copied him, he laughed. In silence, he raised his eyebrows at you, challengingly so, before he put his glass back to his lips.

Oh shit, you thought, he’s not going to down it, is he?

But of course, he fucking was.

And now so were you, taking down big gulps of lager as you held eye contact, eyes growing larger with each swallow because, surely, he wasn’t going to really finish the full full pint?

Joe slammed his empty glass down, releasing a loud guttural grumble as he exhaled loudly, clearly struggling as he caught his breath. You weren’t even halfway down your drink yet.

“No, you don’t have to–” Joe laughed, but you persisted. “Oh, yep... no, you’re doing it,”

Seconds later, with your face contorted like you were in actual pain, you too set down an empty glass with a shaky hand and were met with a set of admiring eyes. Joe seemed impressed, a little.

“Okay,” your voice came out all constricted, barely there, face all scrunched up. “Another one?”

And before Joe could complain about you getting the next round too, you’d already stood up and made your way over to the bar. Two more pints, two more tequila shots.

In a bid to get to know each other better, Joe said he was going to ask you five questions you had to answer truthfully, alcohol absolutely fueling the conversation.

After three kind of normal questions about the best meal you’d ever had, if you preferred baths over showers and what your favourite thing about your mum was, Joe cleared his throat loudly and rubbed a thumb over the condensation of his glass. He seemed to stall a little, shifted in his seat, and then went and asked anyway.

“You know who I am... how?”

“Stranger Things, of course,”

“Of course,” Joe raised his glass as if to cheers you before he took another sip.

“But I must admit, I just... I only really watched it because Steve, he’s just... Steve’s very– Steve’s very Steve.” You sighed, sort of lovestruck, and perched your elbow onto the table, your chin then planted into your palm.

Joe’s face broke into a smile slowly as he eyed you over his glass.

“You know?” you asked for confirmation and got it immediately.

“Oh no, yea,” Joe furrowed his brow as he nodded, agreeing. “Steve is very Steve, you’re right.”

You grinned at each other, and you asked if you could ask him a question now, if it was your turn yet. But Joe said he had one more. Arguably the most important one.

“And be honest... all right, Steve or Eddie?”

“Steve.”

You said that entirely too quickly. Too definitively. Didn’t even leave a fraction of a second to pretend that you had to think about that.

Joe was shocked and gasped loudly as he clasped a hand over his heart. Couldn’t believe it. Made a whole show of it, face contorting in fake cries, a sleeve pulled over his hand to wipe away fake tears.

“Do you need my reasons?”

“No, no,” Joe was instantly laughing. “No, I’ve seen him. I get it, I suppose.”

“Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose.

“No, s’fine,” Joe pretended to be hurt still, looked down at his glass as he took a deep breath with big eyes. “I’m so fine,”

“Do you need a moment?”

“Please,” Joe fake sobbed, and it had you giggling away until Joe also broke.

There was something about Joe that completely pulled you in. You tried to figure out what it was, and concluded that alcohol was probably half of it. The other half, perhaps... his charm? Joe was very cute when he giggled. Little handsome, too. Okay, but maybe... maybe a lot handsome, actually.

You couldn't really think about it too long, because you would turn shy if you did.

Anyway. It was your turn now.

“Come on, have at it. Shoot!” Joe beckoned you with both his hands. You took a moment to think about what you should ask. Couldn’t be about work, like you’d agreed upon earlier. You shifted in your seat and sat up a little when you thought of something.

“Okay, here’s the question, have you ever killed anybody, be honest.”

Joe was lucky he’d just swallowed a sip down as a chuckle immediately ruptured from his throat.

“Even on accident. Tell me the truth, right now.”

But then his own spit seemed enough, and Joe kind of nearly choked on it, coughing and laughing at the same time. You carried on.

“Okay, no, do you want a real question?”

All red-faced and voice strained from the coughing, Joe answered, “Yes.”

“Here’s a real question. Do you, okay... If you...” you narrowed your eyes up at the ceiling.

“Yea?”

“What is...? All right,” you shifted in your seat, pretended to know where you were going with this but very clearly, you didn’t have a fucking clue.

“Here we go,” Joe rubbed his hands together in anticipation, absolutely wholly aware that you had no idea what question you were about to formulate.

“If you could have– what if you could have... okay, wait. So, if you took... all right,”

Joe could barely keep it together, his face reddening as he tried to hold back his giggles. This was fucking hilarious, and anyone listening in thinking otherwise could fuck off, Joe thought.

“If you knew, if you knew for sure... that no one would ever, ever, ever find out, would you...”

You looked at Joe, laughter escaping you now too.

“Would you?” You finished. None of it made sense, which was exactly the point.

Joe raised a hand, palm up and made big eyes.

“I probably would.”

“Yea?”

“I think so.”

“Same.”

You eyed each other for a moment, nodding, before you burst out laughing.

Briefly, you felt drunk on this joy between the two of you. It was addictive in its nature, and you knew that things like this never really lasted, that maybe you should reel back a little, pace yourselves... but you really didn't want to. You felt too greedy for it, needed more of it, and when you saw Joe's face very suddenly drain of all delight as he looked behind you, it shocked your system a little.

It was only for a second, because just as quick as Joe's face read utter doom, it flooded with sheer relief right after.

You looked over your shoulder and saw that people had come in. Saw the type, and realised Joe must've thought they were members of his team. You'd forgotten that he was on the run, still. Hiding from the people that wanted to cage him back up. That was probably more dramatic than what was actually going on, but that was what it felt like, anyway.

“No, I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to ask you,” you said, speaking in truth as you returned to your conversation.

“I have another one for you,” Joe finished his beer. “Where to next?”

You checked the time on your phone. You could definitely still get a slot in, make it in time, but you would have to leave right now.

“Ever heard of this place called Swingers?”

Joe cocked an eyebrow, gave you a face that read, Swingers?! We've only just met!

“Perfect. You haven’t. Let’s go!”

Like children afraid of their parents catching them whilst sneaking out of the house, you snuck out of the pub, hunched over and bent into each other, laughing as you made your way to a main road to stop a cab.

You kept darting your eyes around, scanning the streets, as if there were still people after you. Logically, you both understood that there probably weren't, but it was fun to pretend.

Getting out of the car, not even 10 minutes later, Joe eyed the neon sign in the window and looked at you a little suspiciously.

“What am I about to walk into?”

You just smirked, grabbed hold of him by the sleeve and pulled him inside.

Nothing really gave away what kind of place you were dealing with until you were fully inside, and got a good look around.

“How's your swing?” you grinned at Joe as he let his eyes scan the room. There was a lot to see.

“Clever,” Joe said, his face reading that he kind of fell for it a little. But who wouldn't have? From the outside, nothing about the location gave away that there were four full 9-hole crazy golf courses inside.

You had to wait a little bit, got to have more drinks as you did, and watched from the side lines a little. You were definitely selling the idea that you were amazing at golf. That Joe was going to have to come in hot from the start if he wanted a chance at winning. Joe silently took in all of your boasting, your bragging, and the lack of retaliation would've usually made you simmer down a bit, but not this time. You kind of took it even further, started saying things like you were a record holder here at Swingers, that's how good you were. In fact, maybe it'd be best to just leave all together because Joe wasn't going to have any fun losing to you. You were unstoppable in your bigmouthing, but only because it very much was all complete lies.

You fucking sucked at crazy golf.

Joe found out soon enough, when you hit your first ball way too hard, launching it from the course entirely.

“See? I'm fucking fantastic at this game,” you joked sarcastically and made Joe laugh.

It took you 8 hits for your first hole, which was meant to be the easiest one. Joe got it in 2.

You made your way through the holes, and Joe was annoyingly quite good at the game. He even got a hole-in-one, entirely unexpected, proven by the way he cheered for himself. You looked around, yelled, “Ref! Ref!” at a non-existent referee and tried to secretly give Joe a higher score on your little form which Joe wrestled from your hands to make sure you wouldn't.

The both of you seemed determined to be present in one another's space a bit too much. Be a little closer than normal people would be, than even friends would be. You literally only met a few hours ago, but you gravitated towards each other like the moon and the earth did. Joe thought you kind of controlled his tides like the moon controlled the earth's too.

He wasn't complaining. All of it was actually rather exciting.

When you got to a particular difficult looking course, Joe suggested he'd help you. To teach you his ways, Joe said, like he was in fact a professional whilst, quite clearly, he was mediocre at best.

“Come here, you've... there's a system you've got to understand,” Joe beckoned you to step into his arms a little, and in one of the most stupidly cliché moves ever, Joe swung his arms around you and placed his hands over yours so you were both holding your small crazy golf club.

With his head on your shoulder and his breath hot in your neck, Joe lowered his voice.

“See, there's a tunnel... and it goes up a bit, so we can't hit it too gently, it needs a little speed to make it up there, but,” Joe guided your arms back a little more, ready to make the hit. “If we don't aim correctly, it'll bounce back,”

Joe moved slow. Too slow. Stretching the moment of being pressed up against you. You swung the club back and forth a couple of times, each time nearly touching the ball in a bid to level your eye-hand coordination. You heard Joe inhale deeply, sniffing up your scent, and it was followed by a shuddery exhale. Then Joe turned your whole body with his, swung back more and hit the ball.

It clanged loudly against the side and bounced back immediately, making the both of you snicker silently.

That was definitely done badly on purpose.

“It's okay, we've all got our talents,” you quipped, suggesting that this just wasn't one of yours. You shrugged and smiled as you went to get the ball back into place.

“No one saw that try, come on, we can do this,”

You bit back a smile at how painfully obvious Joe's moves were. Joe wanted you back in his arms and wasn't being particularly secretive about it.

Every shot for your turn you took after that, you took together.

And then when Joe messed up on the last course, you stepped in. Threw Joe's moves back into his face when you went to stand behind him, arms curled around his waist, blindly patting around to find his hands on his club. “You see, there's a system,” you said, your cheek pressed tightly against his back as you did your best to take charge, to lead Joe's movements.

Joe didn't help. Didn't crouch down. Didn't try to make himself smaller for your sake, so you ended up snaking your head around him on the side, making him lift an arm to then help you see. You couldn't even hit the ball like this, completely missing it as you swung.

This playful flirtatious behaviour was the type of shit that could make Joe fold. Make him fall to his knees, be entirely at your mercy, weak for your attention and even weaker for the giggles he could pull out of you with a single stupid move. A stupid joke. A stupid face. The whole thing was so stupid, but you were laughing and touching and it was perfect.

When you were done, Joe, who was in charge of the score, added everything up and then, after a drumroll on the bar, declared you the winner.

“You have way more points than I do,” Joe beamed, completely ignoring that in crazy golf, the lowest score won.

“Told you. I'm undefeated,” you were well aware you lost, but if Joe said you'd won, you'd won.

It was nearing in on midnight, and stepping out back onto the street with Joe, one thing kept repeating in your brain.

Let's keep going. Let's keep going. Let's keep going.

“So, where to next?” you said, peering down the street.

Please don't say home, please don't say home.

“I think...” Joe narrowed his eyes in thought.

Please don't fucking stop the night now, we're having too much fun, don't stop this, please don't stop this.

“I think I know a cool place,”

Oh, thank fuck.

“Are you afraid of heights?”

You cocked an eyebrow, just like Joe had when you'd asked him if he'd ever heard of Swingers, gave him a face that read, heights? Why is that relevant?

“Perfect. You're not. Let’s go!” Joe reached for your hand, pulled you to the kerb and hailed a cab.

You drove east, made a joke about birds usually flying south, and Joe commented about how he'd show you south, but from up high, like actual birds would do.

The further east you went, the higher the office buildings became, and down from inside the taxi, you looked up at them through the window. Tall, shiny buildings, with so many lights still on, no matter that it was past midnight now. It was sort of mesmerising, and it fit the night perfectly. But after being touched so easily and frequently at Swingers, sitting in the cab at either side of the backseat almost felt like you were suddenly very distant. And you didn't like that. Didn't want to be so distanced from Joe.

Your touches had been fine within context, all easy to be explained, to be excused. All accidental. Somewhat inadvertent. All fitting within the context of everything.

Sitting in the back of a black cab? There seemed no real excuse, no matter how much you, or Joe, thought of reasons to reach out––

Oh.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a hand that wrapped fingers around the back of your neck and scratched up into your hair a little. You had to work hard to not let any noises slip out when you released a contented sigh.

“Nearly there,” Joe spoke softly, barely above a whisper.

You turned your head to look at him, and saw Joe lazily smile at you. He had his arm fully outstretched in order to reach you, and your eyes panned down to the middle seat.

Fuck it.

You unbuckled your seatbelt – dangerous, you were just turning a bend – and slid down the seat until your thigh pressed up against Joe's. It gave his arm enough room to now fully wrap around both your shoulders as you buckled up again. Joe looked at you with a grin and eyes that sort of couldn't believe you, but then pulled you more towards him and let you snuggle up a little.

It was fine. Not weird at all. You were nearly there anyway.

You pulled up outside of a tall building that had an elevator located on the outside of the building, all glass, all brightly lit with colourful lights that went all the way up to the top.

“Are you ready to be torpedoed up into the sky?”

“How high are we talking, little bird?”

“Duck & Waffle is on the 40th floor. Come on,”

The lift was a ride. It went so fast, you felt a little dizzy after, and your ears needed popping. But the view was... the view was something else entirely.

You were lead into the bar where you got seated. You were shown your table, and you both thanked the host, but then before you sat down, you stepped towards the windows. The floor-to-ceiling windows gave an incredible view of London at night. You stared past your own reflection, and looked down at the Gherkin. Right behind it, saw the Tower of London, Tower Bridge, The Shard... it all seemed a bit tiny. Much less intimidating from up here.

“Oh my God,” you thought maybe you were too drunk to really process the view.

“I know,”

“This is gorgeous,”

“It is,”

You heard Joe inhale sharply.

“It really is,” he then said more softly, and you let your eyes focus on Joe's reflection next to you and saw he was staring at you. It made you bump your shoulder into him, making him chuckle slightly.

Duck & Waffle was amazing. You had cocktails, tried fancy sounding drinks Joe suggested, and then suggested your own weird concoction to a waitress that you made Joe try. It was awful. So very, very bad. But Joe drank it anyway, insisted that it was actually amazing because he was a trooper like that.

You pointed in different directions and asked each other, if you'd ever had a weird experience somewhere that way, guessed if you grew up somewhere that way, dared each other to soon go somewhere that way and to share a picture as proof. It made you exchange numbers which took so much fucking longer than it should have, because Joe had a lot of missed calls and messages he did his best to ignore, and then you added your phone numbers into your contact lists manually, and were both, well, drunk.

Joe was touching you near constantly, hands finding your arms to grasp, your shoulders to sling around, and even at one point, your thigh to rest on. He was being unbearably affectionate for a famous guy out with a girl he didn't know, but you leant into it.

Loved it.

Invited more of it through body language Joe seemed to pick up on immediately.

The tides, the moon, birds with flapping wings, gravity - all of it wrapped in sugary sweet drinks and silly flirting. It made your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

There was a moment when Joe'd pointed in a direction and said, I live there somewhere. He had to lean in close a little to be able to see it from where you were sitting, and it was close enough for you to lean forward and kiss him. You noses almost touched, and that's exactly why Joe did it. You knew that was why, because he lingered. Pretended to look real hard into the distance of slightly reflective windows and hovered in front of you, the air charged, making your eyes flutter, until you pointed a finger in front, said you lived that way, somewhere.

It was just after 2AM when you stepped out, back onto the pavement again.

“So, are we going to your place? It was this direction, was it?” Joe jokingly pretended to start walking, but you scoffed loudly.

“My place?”

Joe looked at you a little sheepishly.

“Seriously? You think I'm going to invite a... random guy-” Joe frowned at that, “-I just met and invite them over to my place? So he'll then know where I live? Have my actual address? Where we'll then be alone? That's insane. That's not safe. That's how people literally get murdered.”

Joe waited until you stopped rambling, then looked you up and down, shrugged and said,

“All right... my place it is, then.”

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @harringtonfan4 @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsbower @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986

(taglist currently full, sorry)

[lunatiics]

pretty girls (pt. 1) | planymphia

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Jane's always been a sucker for pretty girls.

A/N: I literally never post any of my fics but I'm obsessed with this ship and the drought of planymphia content inspired me to write this... maybe I'll continue if anyone literally cares??

—

It’s funny how blurry the line between real and pretend can get. 

Jane was no stranger to putting on a show—none of the Season 16 girls were. It was their job to entertain while they were filming, even if that meant bending the truth a little. They were here to make good television, after all, and Jane never did anything half-assed.

When the cameras were rolling, Jane was well aware of her talent for knowing exactly what the producers wanted her to say, exactly how to push her sisters’ buttons and provoke a scene-stealing snippet of drama. Even if she didn’t mean her snarky comments (and most of the time, she didn’t), the role of villain seemed practically written for her. She loved all the eyes on her as she commanded the set with her presence and brutal honesty. The cameras loved her, too.

But as the weeks passed, her bitchy act started to catch up with her. She watched the other girls grow closer and connect while she seemed to remain on the outskirts. She’d feel a sense of panic every time they began to set up their makeup and paint for the runway—would anyone sit next to her? Again, by looking at her, you’d never know. But inside was another story.

She’d never admit it out loud, but she was lonely. Especially after being away from home, long days on set, and nights spent shut up in a hotel. It was hard for Jane to let people in, especially new people, but she had built her walls up so high that sometimes she forgot what it felt like to take them down. Putting on a show was easy; being herself was her real challenge.

She missed Boston and her usual bars. She missed her friends and her family. She missed the comfort of home and the feeling of security and safety that instantly went away when she arrived on set. Being on Drag Race was a dream come true, and she fought through her self-doubt and loneliness as the weeks passed. She didn’t want anything to distract her from her goal: winning. If she didn’t leave with any friends, she told herself, so be it.

But even though she presented as a fierce Terminator drag queen, she was still human and had a heart. And her heart felt very, very lonely sometimes.

She had heard other Drag Race girls talk about how close they had gotten while filming and how the close quarters and weeks spent together sometimes sparked real feelings. The audience ate up the potential romance storyline, and the producers often pushed the girls to lean into flirtatious banter while they were working on a challenge or painting. 

Jane knew she was hot. So it came as no surprise to her when a few of the girls hinted at their attraction to her. Even more than just a hint, in Xunami’s case. Jane loved how their attention made her feel, especially from the other pretty girls, even if their interest was surface-level. It gave her a newfound power over the other girls with whom she often reminded herself she was in competition. While they were busy batting their eyes and trying to get her to notice them, she would be focused on winning challenges. And it didn’t hurt her to play along now and then; it was fun to be wanted. 

Really, it was all for the cameras. They had a show to put on, and these kinds of storylines were good television. None of it was really real for her.

Well, except for Nymphia.

—

Nymphia had caught Jane’s eye the moment she entered the werkroom. Fuck, Jane thought. Actual competition. 

Before Nymphia’s entrance, Jane felt completely at ease. She was painfully nervous before seeing the other girls, forcing herself to take deep breaths before she made her own entrance. But once she saw them, her confidence soared. They were her competition? Please. This was going to be the easiest few weeks of her life.

But then—Nymphia. She carried herself with a lightness and ease that was inaccessible to Jane. Jane always felt like she had to convince everyone in a room of her worth. But with Nymphia, Jane was sold in seconds.

After her entrance, the girl in yellow floated around, introducing herself to everyone. Her eyes sparkled as they met Jane’s, and she introduced herself. Jane felt her heart skip as the girl wrapped her arms around her in a friendly embrace, even though they had just met. Jane struggled with being warm, even to people she knew and loved. For Nymphia, it seemed effortless. 

Nymphia was beautiful, and her drag was immaculate. Jane was drawn to perfection. She was obsessed with it. It had been her goal her whole life, the unattainable pinnacle she always wanted to achieve. Jane tried her best not to stare at Nymphia throughout their first day on set, but she couldn’t help it. The girl was magnetic, and Jane couldn’t look away. 

Nymphia easily flitted around the werkroom, chatting up the other girls and making them laugh with her light-hearted charm. And still, with all her sweet bubbliness, she still managed to paint the most beautiful makeup Jane had ever seen, don a breathtaking garment, and glide across the stage with the grace of a trained dancer. Jane was in awe, and she couldn’t deny it.

Jane’s immediate and visceral reaction to Nymphia scared her. She wasn’t usually so shaken by the girls around her. Even though she let herself steal one too many glances at Nymphia, Jane resolved to keep her distance from the girl. As of now, Nymphia was Jane’s biggest threat to the crown—that was clear. 

After the talent show, Jane strategically placed Nymphia at the bottom for Rate-a-Queen. Walking back to the lounge, she felt satisfied by her successful act of sabotage. Maybe that’s what she needed to do to keep her reaction to Nymphia in check: ice her out. As she sipped her drink, she smiled to herself. She was sure to win tonight.

And she did. But as they left the main stage that evening, and Nymphia congratulated Jane on winning so earnestly, her eyes wide and adoring, Jane couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. It had only been one day, and she could already feel the other girls pulling away from her, turned off by her snarkiness. But not Nymphia. For some reason, not Nymphia.

Jane stammered out a “thank you,” unable to say anything else. Nymphia squeezed Jane’s hand and then floated away, her attention drawn to something else, and Jane was alone.

Nymphia wasn’t like the other girls Jane usually encountered, who would throw her bitchiness right back in her face. No, Nymphia was in her own world, seemingly untouched by Jane’s strategy. It was unnerving. 

Jane hated feeling out of control, and Nymphia made her feel like the world had turned upside down.

[seancekitsch]

ok im resending cause i either forgot to send or tumblr ate it! so i know versions of this concept have been done before im eternally weak for jealous/possessive/dom adrian chase fics.

i wanted to request something where adrian and the reader are bffs they're very touchy feely and flirty but it never goes anywhere. reader gets frustrated waiting for adrian to make a move and sets out to make him jealous...it works a little too well, he snaps, smut ensues.

hehehe sorry this is late my entire house and life fell apart but here it is!!!

This doesn’t really feel the way you thought it would. It was a bad idea really. You know Adrian better than this and you’re fucking stupid for thinking this would work. 

Adrian Chase, your best friend of the past five years, the man you share a bed with more often than not because you get sleepy after long hours hanging out, your partner on any missions, your defacto person to make up ridiculous and convoluted bits with on your very limited down time. 

But the flirting banter and the touching have gotten more intense, and you find yourself almost miserable when he gets up in the morning and leaves your little cuddle pile of blankets and limbs. Every time you think he’s going to make a move, to do something, he just… doesn’t. 

Now that you think of it, you could have made a move at any time. You could have been the one to pull him in for a kiss at any time between your constant bantering and snuggling on his couch. You absolutely did not need to be trying to make him jealous right now and having the worst conversation of your life.

Adrian’s eyes are set with pure anger at the back of the head of the guy youre talking to right now, and you keep trying to avoid looking at him. This guy… Angelo? Papa John? Something Italian, you think, is a bro in all senses of the word. He offered to buy you a drink and brought you a vodka cran, something you never drink but if it means you can talk to him without gagging in disgust, so be it.  He’s talking about his old frat days and you’re nodding and giving your best “wow, that’s crazy!” where it feels appropriate. But now he’s trying to put his arm around you and lazily waving at the bartender to get you another drink. 

“She doesn’t need another drink,” A voice cuts in, this one somehow both a needed comfort and a spike of unease. 

“And you are?” The guy asks, and it gives you the distraction you need to sneak out from under his arm. 

“That’s my girlfriend, actually. Yeah, I know I look like a late bloomer but some chicks actually go for that,” Adrian retorts, looking proud of himself as he definitely flexes his muscles. You don’t even have time to think about the fact that Adrian upgraded you to girlfriend because the guy’s voice cuts through your train of thought.

“You with him?” he asks you, pointing at Adrian in disbelief before turning to him, “Well she let me buy her two drinks and get cozy, so maybe next time keep your bitch on a tighter leash.”

Oh fuck no. 

Adrian looks angrier than you’ve ever seen him. Anger isn’t really an emotion he holds, and if he does it’s very brief. You’ve seen him kill a room full of people while smiling before. 

“I hope you didnt actually say that, bro,” Adrians voice drips with venom, “because that was really sexist of you. And while thats not against the law, it’s fucking gross and you don’t talk to her especially like that.”

And with that, Adrian doesn’t wait for his response, he just shoves him against the bar and stalks off. Adrian is certain to get your group banned from the bar sooner rather than later, but at least he didn't hit him. You don’t spare a glance at the guy to chase after your friend. 

“Adrian!” you shout, trying to catch up to him as he marches into the parking lot. He doesn't slow his pace for you.  

“Adrian, slow the fuck down,” you pant, jogging the rest of the way to where he’s fumbling with his keys at the door of the Vigilante-Mobile. 

His jaw is still clenched when he turns around, the anger still rippling under the muscles of his handsome face, distorting and changing him. 

“Why? So I can keep watching you let men that don’t respect you and smell like salami touch you? Then what? By the end of the night you’re going to go home with them and I don’t get a sleepover buddy and you’re going to fuck them and smell like salami too.” he’s ranting, and there’s hurt laced into his voice there. You ignore the slight offense you feel at him thinking you’d let that guy fuck you. 

“No,” you scoff, “I was going to thank you. You know, for standing up for me.”

“Oh,” he seems genuinely surprised by that, “You’re welcome.”

His face doesn’t soften though, your goofy friend doesn’t ease up. 

Fuck, this is weird. 

“Do you wanna… go back inside?” you offer, and your voice does nothing to hide how unsure you are. 

“You can,” he answers, finally finding the right key on his keyring. 

“Adrian, cmon, I’m sure we aren’t—“ kicked out. Kicked about is what you were about today. 

“If you’re just going to let someone else put their arm around you or buy you drinks then I want to go home and watch Kill Bill,” Adrian is serious. Fuck.

And what feels like a missing puzzle piece falls into place. 

“Adrian… are you jealous?”

“What?” his voice jumps half an octave, and you’ve got him. 

“No.”

“Seemed like it.”

“No!” he gets a bit more indignant. It’s cute.

“So if I went back in there…” you trail off, finding it hard to hide your smile as you continue to poke the bear.

“Do whatever you want!” 

He yanks the drivers side door open and you realize just how much you fucked this up. 

“Oh shit Adrian wait don’t leave!”

He stops mid sit, freezing in a goofy squat. 

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you admit. 

“Well that’s stupid, you can’t make me jealous.”

Fuck it, you have to explain it. You were hoping he’d just get so mad he’d bend you over the hood of the Sebring, but now you have to explain your sexually frustrated thought process. 

“Shit, well. I thought if I made you jealous you would…” you shrug, and he stands back up, “I don’t know, make a move or something?” 

You have literally never wanted to curl up and die more than you do in this moment. 

“I thought you were the smart one out of the two of us,” Adrian says, crossing the distance between the two of you. 

You furrow your brows at him, worried that if you speak you might end up saying something even worse… or crying. 

“If you wanted me to kiss you or something you should have just asked! You know I don’t understand social cues.”

Okay, he’s right. Thats on you. 

You nod, and Adrian reaches out to grab your arm. 

“So, I guess this is me asking,” you weak confirm, focusing your eyes on the glare from the streetlight on Adrian’s glasses. 

“Thank god,” Adrian breathes a sigh of relief, “It was so hard to hide all those boners!”

An unintended bark of laughter leaves your lips, all of your anxiety and nerves immediately melting away as he pulls you in for a kiss, not giving a shit that you’re laughing against his lips. He kisses you hungrily, sloppy and wild and his hands are all over you. You’re on autopilot with your hands finding their way to the back of his neck, balling your fists in the material of his sweater. His hands reach lower, and you break the kiss with a gasp when he squeezes your ass hard. 

“Let’s go,” you pant, and he nods, only letting go of you to slap your ass while you practically run to the passenger side of the car.

You don’t even remember the drive from the bar to his house. No, you only remember his hand firm at the top of your thigh, his middle finger dipping between your thighs every so often to tease you. He has you whining and hot all over by the time he’s parked at his apartment complex and leading you up the stairs. 

He moves the same way he does through a mission, his front door slamming against his entryway table and shaking it, practically knocking over the key bowl. 

“Get on the bed,” he commands, not at all hiding his desperation as he kicks off his sneakers, “get on the fucking bed.”

You waste no time yourself throwing your jacket and purse and shoes into a corner and then throwing yourself onto the bed face first. 

By the time you’re rolled over onto your back Adrian stands in the doorway, flicking the lights on. 

“Ready?” he asks, and you nod. Immediately, he climbs himself onto the bed on top of you, pressing his hips into yours.

“Been ready,” you confirm, and he pulls at his sweater, shrugging it down his shoulders as he captures your lips in a kiss again. This kiss is no less desperate than the first, as if Adrian is trying to consume everything that is you. 

He wrestles with your clothes, gripping and pulling until youre bare beneath him, your bare legs parted around his jean clad thighs.

“Thought you could make me jealous,” he laughs, his glasses sliding low on his nose as he smirks. 

“I’m sorry,” you whine, his hands leaving trails of fire in their wake down your ribcage. He gropes at your chest, tracing every swell and expanse. 

“Are you?” he asks, and you nod profusely. His hands dip further down, tickling at your navel before teasing at your core.

“Are you?” He repeats. 

“Yes,” you gasp, his hand dipping down further and just barely touching where you want him.

“Making me jealous isn’t very nice, is it, baby?” he asks, and there’s something predatory in his eyes. You fucking love it. 

“No,” you answer him as he ducks his head down and starts pressing sloppy kisses into the underside of your jaw and the pulse point of your neck. Fuck, you feel white-hot on fire, everything too much and not enough. 

“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” he asks, his breath hot against your neck. You can only nod. 

“Better be,” he demands, his hands leaving where they tease you to unbuckle his belt and push his pants and boxers down in a fluid motion. You curl into yourself a little to look at him, not at all feeling ashamed at wanting to catch a glimpse of Adrian’s dick. 

"M' Gonna be so good for you," you sigh, desperate as he presses his now bare thighs back against yours, his rock hard length brushing against you.

"Shut up," he grunts, and then back tracks, "Not in a sexist way, but god I can't concentrate when you sound so hot."

You listen, and obey, nodding again before kissing his neck now, smooth from a fresh shave and reveling in the happy hum from his lips when your lips and tongue get to work.

“That was so mean,” he gasps, struggling to talk as you give him the same treatment he gave you, “Earlier tonight. Didn’t have to flirt with a ninja turtle. I woulda kissed you so many times if I knew you wanted me to.” 

You moan against his skin at his words, and let his hands drift low again. Your hands graze against his nipples, his abs, his hips. 

“Fuck me,” you whisper, daring your fingers to go lower, but wanting him to go lower first. 

“You want me? Not him?” 

You nod. 

“Gonna make you forget his name.”

You don’t bother telling him you don’t remember the guys name anyway, not when he pushes in ever so slowly and letting you feel every centimeter of him a he sinks himself into you. You sigh in delight, a dazed smile overtaking your lips as he bottoms out. 

“That’s a good girl,” he breathes, not at all hiding how you’re effecting him either, “So right for me.”

And he's right, you're so right for him, he's so right for you. Everything about this feels so correct and perfect.

“Move, please move, please,” you beg, breathless and almost delirious in pleasure. You’ve never felt so full in such a lovely way, in a way that fits you and feels so good that you could scream from this alone. 

He obeys, finally pushing his glasses up as he can focus in on your face and watch what he does to you.  Adrian leans up, opting to grab your hips as he gets on his knees to tilt your hips and snap into you. He holds you in place, his thumbs digging into your hips in a way that’s sure to bruise but you’ll wear those bruises with pride, happy to carry him with you even after this. 

“Adrian!” you shout, your breath trapping in your throat. 

“That’s right, this is for me,” He grits his teeth as he answers you, forcing all of his strength into the snapping of his hips, the force of him fucking you. 

“All—All for… you,” you struggle to get out, the angle leaving you short for breath but god, you could never imagine your first time fucking Adrian better than this. 

“Fuckin right you are,” his lips curl up into an almost sneer, but his eyes are full of love. It’s so hard for him to hide himself from you, even if he says he doesn’t understand emotions, he shows them. 

You pull him down to kiss him, even if this puts him at an awkward angle, he kisses you happily; like a man drinking from a fountain after walking through a desert. He kisses full of love and passion and his hips never slow their pace, always hitting the spot that makes you gasp, always pushing you closer to the edge. 

“I—,” your breath hitches, and with a particular harsh thrust from Adrian you can finish the thought.

“I love—,” he starts to respond, and then stops everything. His speaking, his thrusting, everything. 

“Shit, sorry, forget I said that!” he urges.

But you’re stuck, frozen. You heard the end of that sentence even if he didn’t want you to. 

“I’m sorry; fuck. Sorry.” He moves, as if he’s going to pull out, and then you snap into action.

“No!” you shout, startling yourself and him. You anchor your ankles around his back and hold him in place. 

“I love you!” you blurt out. Adrian relaxes, only slightly. 

“Adrian I love you so much I tried to make you jealous to get you to kiss me please please don’t leave,” you beg, ready to do anything in your power to keep him where he is. 

“You… do?” he asks, and again tonight, you nod profusely. 

“Fuck yeah,” he whispers, and resumes his position. 

You think you hear him say “I knew it” but you can’t be sure over the rush of blood you hear in your ears as he resumes his pace and sets every nerve in your body on fire. If you were ready to come before, you’re on overdrive now. Adrian spares no inch between your bodies and kisses everything he can reach, ever practically folding you in half to do so. 

“Fuck I’m—“ 

“Do it,” he answers, giving you permission for everything to want. It only takes a few more thrusts, the drag of his hips against you, the friction between you, to drive you to oblivion. You come in staccato, your body seizing and shaking quickly in succession, your breath and moans stifled and punctuated as if by impossible beats; Adrian guides you through all of it. For a supposed late bloomer, he knows what he’s doing to take care of someone. 

He slows, but never stops his pace, until you come back to him. Adrian kisses your face all over, holding you tight to bring you back to your senses. 

It’s not until you start kissing back that he starts up his pace again. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna… soon,” he works out between thrusts, hoping for your guidance. 

“Do it, do it please,” you beg, wanting everything he can give you. “Where should I…?”

“In… Fuck, inside if you want.”

“What do you want?” he asks, so gentlemanly it makes you want to punch him. 

“Inside!” you almost shout, the word comes pushed out through a moan because he hits that spot inside again that drives you wild. 

“Fuck…” he stalls, and then his hips stutter, and it’s hot. He releases full into you, all over warm like the first sip of soup. You feel safe as he stills again and the lowers himself on top of you, kissing your jaw and neck. 

“Adrian, fuck, Ade,” You whisper, not sure what you’re asking. 

He picks his head up immediately.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“This won’t change sleepover night, right?” you ask, in the lamest way possible.

“Is this sarcasm I should pick up on?” 

You only hug him closer as you laugh.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Vacation adventures, a summary

Stayed with my friend whom I hadn't seen in three years. She is amazing and I can't believe that a) she's a real person and b) she is in fact voluntarily friends with me, even after all this time.

Made it on to the commuter train despite both of us sleeping through our alarms. We were stuck in the vicinity of a woman who was bent on loudly telling the world the Painful Story of Her Life, but still. a train! It was exciting.

Took the subway to our destination and emerged into Historic City, which is beautiful. Flowers on the lampposts. Buildings with character. We wandered through parks and gardens and saw statuary and geese and absorbed atmosphere.

Went to the public library, which is full of murals and has a courtyard with a fountain. Imagine working in a library like that.

Went to two art musuems (one with an unattainable beautiful courtyard, an image which has been following me through life) and wore our legs out wandering among wonders. I got to see the Little Dancer, which made my younger self very happy.

Went to church with my friend and survived a social event she had to go to with church people. It went better than I thought; they actually said more to me in an evening than most people at the church I currently go to have in over a year and a half.

Went to a vintage-style dress shop and bought a dress with a book print.

Ate lemon curd ice cream with lemon bars in it while looking out over the water near a picturesque town.

Watched three movie versions of Little Women over two nights and critiqued them as prepration for when we...

Went to Orchard House. Fantastic experience, loved getting to know more about the Alcotts through this tangible means. We also drove past some other houses in Concord where they lived.

Bought sandwiches and had a lowkey picnic near the town visitor center.

Went to a charming used bookstore where, when I told the lady that I was buying a map as a gift for my dad in a faraway city, she took the trouble to find a flattened box to encase the map in for travel. (There were a lot of nice people in this area.)

Tracked down the Alcott family's gravesite and left a pencil on Louisa's headstone alongside the many other pens and pencils left there.

Tried to go to Walden Pond but it was too happening a place for any more people to be let through. Maybe next time. But the surrounding area and what I could see through the trees was gorgeous.

Prowled my friend's town while she was at work. The library is so very grand for such a small place, and there's a lovely lake too.

Took a bus on a whim despite the lack of a clearly marked bus stop and went to a bookstore in another town.

Went to another bookstore in the afternoon and sat outside reading until my friend got off work and I walked to meet up with her.

Explored the pond that contains deep below its surface an animatronic white whale leftover from a long-defunct amusement park. The whale isn't visible, of course, but we found the tracks used to move an animatronic rhinoceros that was part of the ride, and the ramp that was used to launch the whale into the water. It was like extremely hands-off archaeology, if archaeology consisted of hoping you'll bump into relics of the past with no effort (the pond is in an office park, and we didn't want to get in trouble for meddling with the property).

Took the bus again and went to a comics shop and raised comment by systematically going through an enormous unsorted $1 bin for literally hours. Worth it.

Took my friend to dinner at an Italian place built into the side of a hill with no apparent parking space and a grand total of three dining tables inside. The food was delicious.

Talked a lot, listened a lot, hugged a lot. I haven't been so not stressed out or not simmeringly angry in a long time. It was very refreshing and exactly what I needed and I am so glad and grateful that it worked out.

[dark-frosted-heart]

My Beloved Villain Who Swept Me Away - Roger Barel

As usual can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this

Male customer: Two beers and…any food you recommend?

Kate: How about a cottage pie? Fresh out of the oven.

Male customer: Then I’ll take two

Kate: Got it, coming right up!

I take the order to the counter. Meanwhile, business is booming as customers keep coming.

(Today’s December 31st. Since it’s the night of the last day of the year, a lot of people are going out to drink and ring in the new year)

While thinking about it, I was about to serve some new customers when—

Roger: Little lady…?

—I bumped into Roger who just entered the tavern.

Kate: Welcome, Roger.

Roger: Welcome…Did you quit being a fairy tale writer and get a job at a tavern?

Kate: No, I didn’t quit. I’m just working here for the day.

~~ Flashback ~~

It happened in the afternoon as I was on my way back from a mission after parting ways with Alfons and Elbert.

I saw a thin man getting beaten up near a bar.

(Hey, stop it…! Is there anyone around to help…)

I looked around, but everyone who passed turned a blind eye and continued on their way.

(The police are too far…I’ll have to intervene…!)

Kate: Hold it! Why are you doing this? He’s not even resisting…

Bartender: It’s his fault. He didn’t have any money but ordered all the pricey food and drinks.

(Meaning he tried to dine and dash? But to resort to violence…)

Skinny man: …

While the bartender and I were talking, the man took the chance to run off and disappear into the crowd.

Bartender: Ah, damn it! He ran away! It’s all because of you…

Kate: S-sorry…

Bartender: No use apologizing… Right, that’s it, you’ll work in his place to pay back all he ate and drank. 

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …So I had to work to make up for all the food and drink the guy had without paying.

Roger: That sucks to hear. But also, didn’t somethin’ like this happen to you before you joined Crown?

Kate: Now that you mention it…yeah.

Roger: Human habits never change…Well, good luck.

Roger patted my head as if he was praising his pet dog.

After talking with Roger, I was busy with customers after customers.

As midnight approached, I thought I’d have time to take a break as things started to calm down, but then, one by one, customers started to offer me a drink.

(I can’t refuse if they’re buying me a drink…)

As I continued to drink what was served to me, I was getting tipsy and my thoughts gradually became fuzzy.

(I need to get it together, I’m still in the middle of working…)

As I continued serving the customers while keeping myself motivated, a male customer put money down before me.

Male customer with a protruding belly: -buy you. Is this enough?

(...? My head’s cloudy. What did he say…)

(If he’s handing me money…Is he paying his bill…?)

I nodded and was going to take his money.

—But then an arm around pulled me away

Kate: Ro…ger…?

Roger: Sorry. I had my eye on this one for a while now. Not gonna hand her over.

As he said that to the customer, Roger put more than twice the amount of money on the table.

(Had his eye…What is he talking…)

Male customer with a protruding belly: Isn’t it first come, first serve?

Roger: Not if you pay more? Besides…You should feel ashamed for trying to buy such a fine woman with that measly amount, don’t you think?

Roger glanced at the money the man put down and smirked as he said “measly”.

Male customer with a protruding belly: …Don’t fuck with me!

The customer, face flushed with anger, raises his fist at Roger.

However, Roger nonchalantly dodged the fist with ease.

Roger: Oops, that was dangerous. Well, can’t blame me for defendin’ myself then. Little lady, take care of this for me.  

Roger handed me his glasses.

Roger: My vision’s blurry and I can’t make out the little lady’s face clearly, but… It’s risky to wear glasses when you’re about to get in a fight.

(Huh…? Fight? Why’re you starting a fight…?)

I tried to stop Roger, but I was too drunk and unsteady to do anything.

On top of that, the other customers in the tavern were getting rowdy because of the fight, livening up the place.

(At least…I hop Roger doesn’t get seriously injured)

That’s what I wished for with my blurred consciousness as I held onto his glasses.

–

Kate: Nn…

Jolting movement woke me up and I found myself being carried in Roger’s arms.

I was greeted by Roger without his glasses up close and my eyes widened unconsciously.

Roger: Mornin’ little lady. Was it comfortable sleeping in my arms? Also…I’d appreciate it if you gave back what’s in your hands soon.

That’s when I realized that I’d been holding onto Roger’s glasses this whole time.

Kate: S-sorry…

I wiped his lenses with a handkerchief and returned his glasses. He accepted it with his arms down.

Kate: Um…by the way, why am I here…? I was working at the tavern for the day…

Roger: You got drunk and passed out. Couldn’t work anymore so I brought you here. And…did you know that at night, the women who work at the tavern sell their bodies?

Kate: Huh?! I didn’t know… Ah…! Then, when that customer wanted to give me money, he wanted to buy me?!

Roger: Yep. Right after gettin’ you drunk and impaired. The tavern gets a cut so even if they don’t know what’s going on, no one’s gonna stop it.

Kate: You saved me, Roger…Thank you so much.

If it weren’t for Roger, I would’ve been bought by a complete stranger. I shuddered at the thought.

Roger: Haha, saved you? Do I look like a good guy to you, little lady? According to the rules, I bought you for a day.

For you, who you spend the night with switched from that guy to me.

Kate: Huh…

Roger: You’re mine ‘til the date changes… So, what should we do? I know a lot of places to rest around here.

Kate: W-wait a minute, Roger! I’ll pay you back! So…

Roger: Want me to let you go? Don’t wanna. I’m not the kind of guy to change my mind once it’s set on something. I’ve earned the right to do what I want with you so why’d I let you go?

Kate: …You don’t have to do this…you always do whatever you want anyway!

Roger: That’s not a nice thing to say. You make me sound like a bad guy.

Kate: I mean it…

Roger: Harsh. It’s usually just a kiss (greeting), isn’t it? So I thought we’d go a little further today.

Ah, the year’s almost over.

Kate: Is it that time already…?

Roger: Can’t you hear from her? People are counting down everywhere.

(That’s right. Roger’s cursed ability lets him hear sounds from far away…)

Kate: You got a nice countdown, Roger…

Roger: You wanna do it too, little lady? Then you’ll have to do it with me.

Kate: Eh…

Roger: Come on, we’re running out of time. 10, 9, 8, 7…

Roger started counting down and I hurriedly joined in.

Roger and Kate: 6, 5, 4…

(Ah-)

With three seconds to go, Roger put his hand on my cheek.

Based on previous experience, it was obvious what he was going to do and I had time to run away. However-

Roger: 3, 2, 1…

The moment the countdown ended, I stayed still and our lips pressed together.

(Until the date changes…I can’t turn Roger down because he bought me)

(That’s it…so…)

Before long, our lips parted with the sound of the loudest fireworks ringing in the new year.

Roger: Happy New Year, little lady. Have a great year, won’t you…?

Kate: You too…

It was frustrating to see Roger smile as if the kiss was nothing.

To Roger, a kiss was just a greeting, but to me, it was something much more special.

Roger: So, are you gonna let me touch you more? Or not?

Kate: The date’s changed so you can’t do whatever you want anymore!

Roger: Damn, you’re pretty headstrong, little lady. I spent a lot on you.

Roger’s hand lets go of my chin with that snide remark.

(They say that “actions speak louder than words”)

(He plays with me, but I don’t think Roger actually has any sort of attachment to me…)

The moment I thought that, I felt a pain spread in my chest. From anger at being played with…probably.

Roger: Well, that’s fine. You’ll stay like that the whole year too. The more defiant and competitive you are, the more I get to discipline you.

Kate: There’s no need for disciplining…!

Whenever I’m with him, I’m always the one getting pushed around.

(This year…I’d like to leave at least a little mark on Roger’s heart)