#darlin with tattoos yes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pretty-circa006 · 3 months

Note

OKAY imagine IMAGINE reader sees negan/jeffrey naked for the first time AND sees his chest full of chest hair THENNNN nakedly grinds on his chest

Negan x F! Reader

tags nudity, smut, grinding, chest hair fetish i think??

note i did my best, i hope you like it

wc 1.5k

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Negan sits at the head of the table with Lucille in hand and his leather jacket resting on the back of his metal chair. He’s explaining something, likely what the Saviors’ next move against Alexandria is going to be, but it all flies above her head. Her eyes watch his lips as they move in tune with his words, his hazel eyes as they alternate eye contact with each Savior at the table, and occasionally glance down at what parts of his body were visible above the table.

“Ya get all that, darlin’?” He asks, looking at her.

“Oh..yeah! Uh huh. Yes…sir,” she lies. The deadpan look Negan sends her way tells her that he is not convinced, and honestly, neither is she. She bashfully looks away from him and down at the table, this time actually trying to pay attention to the rest of the meeting.

With a bang of his barb wired bat to the metal table, he dismisses everyone as he gets up and leaves, too. She's the last one out of the room, partly because she didn't want to meet Negan's eye on the way out but mainly because she wanted to watch him as he left. Before she can leave the room something catches her eye—Negan's jacket. She looks around the room, making sure it's empty before walking over to his chair and grabbing the expensive looking leather garment. She picks it up and it almost feels unreal to be holding it. She hesitantly brings it up to her nose and breathes in the scent: leather and manliness. She could get lost in it and almost does, but she quickly remembers the task at hand and rushes out the room to catch up to Negan.

With the jacket cradled in her arms, she hurries down the halls in search of the man in charge—he's nowhere to be seen. She sees his right hand, Simon, walking idly down the hall.

"Wait, Simon. Do you know where Negan went?" she asks him. The mustached man's eyes drift down to the jacket in her arms and back up to her eyes with suspicion.

"What're you doin' with Negan's jacket," he questions, reaching down for it as he does. She clutches it closer and moves it out of reach.

"He left it in the meeting room, so I'm bringin' it back to him. Do you know where he went?"

"I can give it to him, it's no trouble."

Annoyed with Simon's insistence, she sidesteps him and storms down the hall, protectively clutching the jacket.

"I'll handle it, thanks!"

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Nobody said anything when she knocked on his bedroom door, so she waited a second. She knocks again and yields the same results. She tries the doorknob and surprisingly, it gives, opening the door and letting her into his bedroom. Until now, she'd never been in his room. The sheer luxury of it all strikes her with awe. The king sized bed, the leather couches and chairs, the tall windows and dark curtains, even when the world was normal she's never seen anything anything like this.

The sound of Negan's voice saying her name snapped her attention away from the room and onto him. He's standing in the middle of the room, practically naked other than the towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips. His tattoos are on full display along with the salt and pepper hair on his torso. Unintentionally, her eyes drift down his body to his belly button, to his v line, and even his–

"My eyes are up here, sweetheart," he reminds her, forcing her eyes to meet his hazel ones.

"Ah, shit! Sorry, I umm..."

"The hell are ya doin' in my bedroom?" he asks.

"You left your jacket," she holds the jacket out to him, to which he accepts.

"Thanks..." He still looks at her suspiciously as she awkwardly rocks on her heels and doesn't leave.

"Uh, you're dismissed." She's about to turn and leave, but the sound of fabric hitting the floor keeps her there. Her face burns with heat and eyes widen as she makes eye contact with his dick. He always brags about his size, but now she has proof that he was never exaggerating. Negan doesn't make any moves to grab his towel nor cover himself, instead, he's smirking at her, amused by wide eyes and dropped jaw. Subconsciously, her thighs squeeze together at the feeling of heat pooling in her core.

"Y'alright, darlin'?" he asks out of amusement rather than concern. She blinks rapidly as her mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Her eyes alternate from meeting his to dropping down to his penis again.

"S-sorry! Sorry!" she apologizes as she covers her eyes with her hands. The attempt to cover her eyes is fruitless since she's looking through the gaps in her fingers anyway.

"Like watcha see?" he teases. He half expects her embarrassment to take over and for her to run away, but instead she stands her ground and nods.

"Yes, s-sir." Her breathing is shallow as she shifts around trying to subtly sooth the needy ache in her throbbing pussy. Negan can tell that she wants him, needs him even, and honestly seeing her so needy and desperate is a turn on for him.

"Well, you can either get the fuck outta my room or take your goddamn clothes off. The choice is yours, doll, but make it quick."

He didn't have to ask her twice, she's already unbuttoning her jeans. In a rush, she clumsily toes off her shoes before stepping out of her pants and panties. She wishes she could've given Negan a show instead of the unsexy rush-job she's currently putting on but luckily for her, Negan finds her sex crazed desperation for him endearing. But she's taking a little too long for his liking. He approaches her and pulls her shirt over her head before unclasping her bra and discarding the items.

"Holy shit, baby. You look downright fuckin' delicious," he compliments as he eyes her naked body from head to toe. His arms snake around her and pull her body into his. His hard length slides between her thighs, almost slotted between her lower lips. Her hands slide up his chest, her fingers weaving through the wispy hairs on his chest. By the back of her neck, he pulls her in for a heated kiss, teeth clashing as their tongues get to know each other's mouths. His hands slide down her back and around the curve of her ass before squeezing and kneading it in his hands. He holds her firmly and close as he thrusts his dick along her soft inner thighs. Their pleasured moans mix in their mouths which are still attached to each other. As they kiss, her hands never leave his chest. Her fingers continuously play with his chest hair and occasionally give it a gentle tug.

He pulls away from the kiss, the string of saliva between them breaks. He looks down at her, his hazel eyes dark with lust. She looks back up at him, her eyes begging him to fuck her.

"You like my chest hair, don't you, babydoll?" She just giggles but doesn't any anything and continues to doodle abstract swirls with her finger on his chest.

"I asked you a goddamn question," he says sternly.

"I do, sir." Without warning, he picks her up by the back of her thighs and she reflexively wraps her legs around his waist. While still holding her, he lays down on the bed with her now straddling his waist.

"Get yourself off on it," he orders in a way that leaves no room for questions. But she has some anyway.

"Wh...what?!" she asks through a bout of nervous laughter.

"If you like my chest hair so much, get yourself off on it, baby."

"What if I crush you o-or something?"

He scoffs and rolls his eyes before just pulling her onto his chest by her thighs. He smirks, enjoying the view of having such a beautiful woman on top of him.

"Well, I'm waitin'," he huffs. Her hands cautiously grip his shoulders before she begins grinding her hips against his strong chest. Her movements are slow and apprehensive at first, but eventually pleasure starts building up. The friction of his chest hair against her clit feels better than she expected and brings her closer to her orgasm. Negan watches her from beneath his thick eyelashes, in awe with the way her tits move in unison with her grinding.

"I shoulda made you my fuckin' wife," he comments as his hands caress her thighs.

"Better late than never, right?" comes her breathy reply. She's close and Negan can tell by her breathlessness and sweaty, flushed face. Her hand creeps down between her legs and she rubs her clit in quick circles, urging her orgasm closer. Her thighs squeeze his ribcage and her eyes screw shut as the dam breaks and her orgasm comes crashing over her.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” He teases. She climbs off his chest and flops onto the bed beside him.

“Mmm hmm.” She nuzzles into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arm around snugly her as she caresses his chest.

“So what was that you were saying about makin’ me your wife…?”

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muldermuse · 2 months

Text

An Unlikely Hero (ex boyfriend!Billy Butcher x reader)

this is going to be a multi part series!!! i love exboyfriend!butcher and he is on my mind constantly. if u would like to read more about him here’s some more posts! if you wanna talk about him pls send me your thoughts ❤️ dividers by @saradika ❤️

part one: the first date

the first time you meet Billy Butcher

You swore to yourself that this was the last Tinder date you’d subject yourself to. Last week, you matched and met with Jack who had a Homelander sleeve tattoo and cried to you about how hard it was to be a ‘true American’ nowadays. The week before that, it was Shay who seemed sweet but kept trying to ply you with drinks and invite you back to his place (he bragged that his ‘folks were out of town’, which would be impressive if you were a hell of a lot younger than you actually are). This week’s date is named Harry and he’s just not right for you. You thought it over texts but as soon as you sat down with him tonight; it was confirmed. It’s not even like you have a great previous relationship as a point for comparison, all romantic love has been fleeting and, with how things are going currently, you imagine it always will be.

It's a few hours later and Harry’s suddenly a lot drunker than you. You’ve moved from the overpriced restaurant to your favourite bar. The drinks are questionable in that they’re both incredibly cheap and very strong. You grab two stools at the bar which is overwise empty, apart from one man nursing a whiskey. You’re sure Harry’s drunker than you because he’s currently sobbing into his craft beer about how he hasn’t felt a connection with anyone since his ex-girlfriend, who left him 3 months ago for a co-worker.

“Like, you’re nice y’know. You seem like a nice girl” you try not to recoil at the phrase “but my ex? She was great. There’s no one else who’s ev-hic-ever been like her and there never will be”. The guy sat next to you at the bar mutters a “fuckin’ ell” under his breath as he gestures towards the bartender for another neat whiskey. His accent is completely out of place in this local dive bar; he sounds European. No trace of an american accent so you consider that he could be a tourist who’s wandered into a bar looking for a cold drink and some respite.

You try not to smirk at the utterance and tune back into what Harry’s saying, “I think we’ve both just gone through the motions tonight, don’t you agree? I can tell you’re not really into me and to be honest, I’m not into you”. You kind of admire his candor because he’s right, you’re not into him in the slightest but the next thing out of his mouth quickly dispels any misplaced respect you held for him. “I’ve been real lonely since she left though…maybe you could come back to my place-hic-she’s uh…some of her stuff is still there but there’s not a lot of it in the bedroom”. He’s that plastered that what he assumed would be a casual hand slide up your thigh becomes a full push, hurtling you into the whiskey sipping man next to you. You fall into his chest, it’s strong and kind of feels like slamming into a wall.

“Right, tha’s fuckin’ it” the potential tourist speaks and it’s only when he stands up that you realise how broad he is. He’s tall with thick black hair and the beard to match. His outfit is seemingly prepared for a spectrum of weathers with a Hawaiian shirt clashing with a thick overcoat. He’s older than you, definitely older but absolutely attractive. More attractive than anyone you’d seen on Tinder or, probably, ever in your life. “You alright there darlin’?” his dark eyes bore into yours as you nod and cough out a meek ‘yes’. You silently curse yourself, the first thing you say to this strong man makes you sound like a small frightened mouse.

“’M jus’ gonna get rid of your little pal there and then I’ll buy ya a drink- alright?” his hand rubs your bare arm and sends a flurry of goosebumps across your skin. The whole interaction feels more charged than anything you’ve had before with another human, you wonder if he’s feeling it too and pray that he is.

“Oh nice one man, I’ll have uh…another craft” Harry gestures towards the tap, completely oblivious to the situation in front of him

“All you’re fuckin’ gettin’ cunt is a helpin’ hand out that fuckin’ door. Now, I’ll ask ya politely one last fuckin’ time…fuck off” he elongates the 3 letter word. A comically confused look spreads across Harry’s face. “’M on a fucking date here man and she’s coming back to mine, aren’t you?”

“No” you quickly deadpan, shaking your head at the still unnamed man.

“There’s your answer then cunt, off ya fuck”

“Butcher- no fuckin’ blood on my bar this time man” the bartender shouts whilst idly checking his phone. Butcher? Is that the guy’s name?

Harry stands up, pushing out his chest which, if anything, only exaggerates how small he is in comparison. “I’ve bought her meal, paid for her drink and I’m go-hic-gonna take her back to my place and fuck her”. He finishes his sentence in Butcher’s face. Whilst you see a flicker of fear cross Harry’s expression; Butcher’s look borders on hysterical.

“Alright then big fella, I’ll tell ya what’s gonna happen” he slams his hand down on Harry’s shoulder, his eyes now boring into his. “You’re gonna fuck off back to your shitty little home, grab some lube, cry and wank to ya heart’s content about your ex who is probably ridin’ some big fat fuckin’ dick right now-yeah?” Butcher nods as if Harry’s going to agree with him.

Your date goes to interrupt but Butcher presses a finger to his quaking lips before he can start, “what’s not gonna happen, my sad little mate, is that you’re going to fuck her. She’s hadta listen to your fuckin’ whinin’ about your ex all night whilst you’ve fuckin’ insulted this gorgeous woman. So, get out before I throw ya through the fuckin’ window”. Harry’s lost for words, he doesn’t make eye contact with you as you stand silently behind Butcher. You see tears brimming in his eyes as he smacks $20 on the bar top.

“Fuckin’ old asshole” Harry spits as he shoves past the pair of you.

Butcher smirks at the remark, watching the door swing shut behind Harry before turning to you. “Right darlin’, whatcha havin’?”

It’s the best date you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a real date. You finally got his full name. Billy Butcher. Your heart races just to say it. He’s from London but has been in the States for a while. He asks all about you and you surprisingly find you’ve got a lot in common. He’s funny, charming and really fucking exciting- you have to admit. By the third drink, the chat goes from conversational to more flirty.

“The bartender said ‘this time’, do you do this a lot? Love saving a damsel in distress? Are you a hero, Billy Butcher?” you smirk at him and he returns it back to you. There’s lust in his eyes and you see him take your appearance in for what feels like the upteenth time since you sat down.

As he goes to speak, the bell rings for last orders and he takes your hand to help you off the bar stool. You down the remnants of your drink together and he puts his arm around you and escorts you out of the bar.

You don’t want it to end, he lights a cigarette and you thank any higher deity for the extra thinking seconds it gives you. He speaks before you get chance, “Will ya let me walk you home darlin’? Swear on my mum’s life I won’t try any funny business”. He holds his hand out like he’s making a scouts honour. Honestly, you do anything to spend a bit more time with him so you smile, link your arm with his and pull him down the quiet streets.

The air makes you feel drunker than you are. If you were sober, there is no way you’d be giggling like a school girl at everything this man is saying, yet here you are. Your arms are linked and you’re resting your head on his shoulders as you tell him about your horrific dating history. Everytime he laughs and accuses you of exaggerating you say, “Billy Butcher, I would never ever lie to you”. You say it because his name feels so fun sliding off your tongue. You barely see anyone on your walk home and the sound of your shared laughter fills the empty streets.

As you turn down your street, you wish you lived miles away so you could keep walking together for hours. Your stomach drops at the thought that you’ll never see him again. Which, you completely realise, is fucking stupid. This stranger threatened your date to leave but he also made you feel safe and laugh harder than you have in months. You pull his stride to a stop outside your house. It feels like some awful hallmark romcom or trashy romance novel.

You thank him for escorting you home and he turns down a nightcap in your house as “it’s not gentlemanly on the first date”. He shoots you a wicked grin again as he says, “my mum would be spinnin’ in her grave darlin’”.

You try not to let the heartbreak from that sentence show on your expression. “You’re a gentleman, Billy Butcher?”

“The best one around darlin’. I’ll prove it tomorrow when I take ya out for lunch”

A brief flare of anger hits you, “yeah, I hear that all the fucking time. The lunch never happens, I don’t see you again but then we bump into each other at the store and you apologise and say you’ll be in touch which, of course, you never will be”. You regret it as soon as you stop speaking.

Before you can apologise, he grabs a sharpie out of his coat pocket, takes your hand and scribbles down his number. “There, alright? You call me at any time gorgeous and I swear, I’ll fuckin’ answer and come runnin’”

His kiss to your cheek is soft yet restrained. “You’ll forget about me Billy Butcher, I know it”.

“S’not fuckin’ possible, darlin’”. He says goodnight and walks down your street. A plume of cigarette smoke trailing after him.

He keeps his word.

40 minutes later, and after one final glass of wine, you call him.

He answers on the first ring and says your name. He tells you where to meet tomorrow and what time to get there.

You hope he can always keep his promises.

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pycth · 2 months

Note

you haven't shared your darlin' with us yet 👀

Let it be known that I made her not because I like Sam, but because I am horrendously in love with Darlin (Redacted)

HERE IS SHE FINALLYYY<33

A few facts about my Darlin’—

• Her and Baaabe dated in Highschool! The two were together for two and half years until sometime after graduation when Darlin met Quinn. The two grew close as “friends”, much to Baaabe and the rest of the pack’s concern for this stranger who suddenly appeared in her life and kept her away, which then inevitably led to a dubious mutual breakup between the two. (They’re good now, Baaabe still considers her one of their closest friends next to Milo)

• Her hair actually goes all the way down to her lower back. She is very proud of how well she’s kept it maintained and absolutely refuses to get it cut.

• She’s secretly a big sucker for cheesy romance. You can’t get her to outright admit it, but you can catch her crying during tragically romantic movies.

• She’s a tattoo artist. When she moved back to Dahlia she managed to secure the small shop space to rent out that was directly underneath her mini studio apartment for pretty cheap since it needed work done. It’s not quite as decked out as she wants it to be yet, slowly but surely she’s getting there though.

• Has an overall tomboyish aesthetic, but still loves doing her makeup and even sometimes wearing dresses when the occasion calls for it.

• Yes the tattoo on her chest does have a Q in it It’s not the only one she has though! She also has a tramp stamp that looks like this that she got right after graduation and almost managed to convince Asher to get with her—

Bonus wolf form examples—

Don’t let it fool you, Darlin’s wolf is still bigger than Milo’s and she does in fact bite if you give her the right reason to.

#I LOVE HER SO MUCHH #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redacted verse #redactedaudio #redactedasmr #redactedverse #redacted darlin #redacted shaw pack #pycthsketches #pycthanswers

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neonovember · 6 months

Note

OH MY GOD CARMYS GF (READER) GETTING HER FIRST TATTOO AND HIM COMFORTING HER AND HELPING HER TAKE CARE OF IT DURING THE HEALING PROCESS OR WHATEVA‼️💳💥💳💥 IDK I WAS JUST SITTING HERE AND THOUGHT OF IT IF YOU DOJT WANNA WRITE IT THATS OKAY

could even make the tattoo be his name or his initial or somethin 🤯🤯🤭😏

love you and your writing 😚

thanks for keeping us fed 😌

carmen berzatto x reader

okay so yes, maybe hozier has jolted me out of my writers block. i'm just a women after all.

Inked Devotion

this request was fun! i really didn't know what to make the tattoo so i left it a blank slate for whatever you wanna imagine, hope that's okay!

word count: 1.7k

things; tattoos, mentions of braces, carmen's unyielding devotion to you

Your eyes dart across the tall walls lined with inked models and men in dark beards nervously. You can't shake the tension that seems to imprint itself under your skin, your knees jittering with a rapid tap against the linoleum floors.

When you had brought up wanting to get a tattoo, a half joking mutter under your breath as you traced the many littered on Carmen’s body you hadn’t anticipated to actually go through with it.

And yet here you were, shaking like a leaf despite the diffuser jutting out whisper of eucalyptus that was meant to be calming. Whilst Monica, a woman you'd meant a handful of times ran through the list of after care necessities you should be listening to.

You can’t though, you don’t hear a thing as you stare unseeingly through the dark auburn tresses of her short hair, wrapped up in the thoughts that have begun to eat away at the already dwindling confidence you had when you first walked in.

“Hey, you still with me darlin’' Monica's Brooklyn drawl draws you back to her, and you duck your head sheepishly as you nod furiously. Like a goddamn high schooler getting caught looking out the window instead of listening to Hemingway.

Monica smiles toward you, humouring warmth filling her pale skin that, surprising to you, were incredibly stark of tattoos. In fact, if it weren’t for the posters taped to the walls, the black and white tiled floor, and the ominous tattoo bench in the corner you would have thought you walked it not the wrong place. It was stereotypical of you, and you had been a loud advocate for not judging a book by its cover, but goddamn, what tattoo parlour had potted plants and candles that smell like cinnamon?

“Sorry, uh, what did you say?”

“It’ll be alright, the pain really does depend on each person but Larry here will catch you if you faint on my tattoo bed” Monica winks with a smile, and you shift your gaze to the man stationed unmoving near some marked drawers, the mass of muscle hidden beneath dark jeans and a shirt bursting out of him.

It wasn’t the pain you were worried about, you had period cramps that sounded worse than that, it was more so the prospect of having your virgin skin imprinted with something forever. You had never done something like this, teenage recklessness had passed you by without a blink, and you had little to show for it but carved words on your old dresser from a knife and a dark eyeshadow phase that lasted less than a month.

It was a little pathetic, getting your first tattoo eons after any respectable age, and your trepidation seems blatantly clear as Monica shakes her head with a smile.

“Many people get their firsts well into adulthood, did I tell you about my last appointment? A 52 year old woman wanting a goddamn tramp stamp.”

You can't help but let a giggle out, the unsureness leaving you at Monica’s words

“You still want this right?’ Monica replies, and you shift your gaze to Carmen, who was already watching you fondly, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he pushes his golden strands back and gives you a nod

“It’s all up yo you gorgeous, if your having second thoughts there is a really good Thai place i wanted to che-”

“No, no I want this” You cut him off, and he chuckles softly, “Besides we already designed the stencil and everything” Carmen nods at that, placing his large palm onto your own, squeezing it with reassurance.

“Damn right we did, thinkin it's my best work yet” Monica chirps from the other side of the bed between you.

“Alright, just sit on that bed down there, get settles while I grab some things”

You nod, walking stiffly towards the leather bed, tissue paper crinkly under your weight as you shift into a comfortable position. Your eyes follow Monica like a laser, watching as she santises her hands and slides on powdered sterile gloves.

It reminds you of days spent in Dentists chairs, visions of rubbery fingers tightening wires into your teeth flashes behind the darkness of your lids. Funny, you had worried about your lack of experimental youth, and yet here you are now feeling like a kid again.

The thought makes you smile, and you open your eyes to feel the heated gaze of Carmen looming over you. Face distorting in horror when Monica’s tool makes a clatter, eyes widening comically in that way that always makes you laugh.

“Alright Doll, I’m just gonna need you to sit up for me whilst I get the skin prepped. Alcohols gonna feel a little cold to the touch, kay?” Monica says.

All you can do is nod as she rips open the matte packet, pressing it into your open skin shaved clean per her request a few prior. Who knew how much prep a tattoo would need, you were sure it was on par with even one of Carm’s dishes.

Unfortunately for you the only numbing cream useful for tattoos had something that would have made you break out in hives, so it was cold turkey for you. Monica had transformed the design into a stencil, and as she was transferring it into your skin it seemed to come to life all at once.

You had spent hours going over designs, and whilst you were extremely happy with what you both came up with, it was like when the lines and shapes had traced your skin, you finally saw it. And the moment you did you couldn't stop the wave of emotion that rushed through you, filling your eyes.

“Hey, baby, hey what is it” Carmen rushed urgently, crouching down when he noticed the way you sniffled.

“Awe doll, you don’t like the design? I’ll change it in a flash, this is just the stencil it aint permanent at all” Monica quickly stopped, looking up at you with concern

“No no, I’m fine” You squeezed Carmen “It’s so, it's beautiful Monica” You rushed out, trying to ease the lines of concern that appeared on her face. Monica bloomed at your reply, fondness heating her cheeks as she traced your skin comfortingly.

“Thank you” You whispered to her as she shushed you.

“At least we got the crying bit over and done with, it might hurt less now” She winked, before reaching for her tattoo gun.

“Ah shit” You grunted, shooting daggers Carmen's way when he snorted out loud.

Returning to your skin, Monica pressed the pointed tip of the gun to your skin, the first sink of ink burrowed into your skin causing you to clench your jaw.

Monica looked up to watch your expression with a smile,

“See, ain't too bad” Carmen replied before you gripped him white knuckled, making him wince regrettably.

It took some time, you won’t lie to yourself that is fucking hurt. But soon enough the sharp stab had resided to a dull ache, and you instead had become all too focused on the movement of Monica's hand swaying through the strokes of the design.

You were in awe, she breathed her being into it, and as the design took inches and inches of your skin you understood why she was booked out for months. With one last intricate curl, and a wipe of cleansing soap across the inked skin it was finished. Revealed to both you and Carmen's eyes in all its glory, and you both just stared.

“God, now I wish my first was as good as that instead of wonky stick and poke” Carmen said after a pregnant silence had passed.

“It..wow, yeah. Yep, I want to be buried with this” You said softly, giddiness erupting in your body as you shook your hand grasped in Carmens.

“I’m glad doll, I mean this is meant to be professional but goddamn does your skin just take it. Fuckin’ gorgeous” Monica replied, leaning back as she places the gun on the table near.

“Hey, I'll report you to HR” Carmen bitterly replies, moving you closer to his side as you laugh.

“It’s my business, I am HR” Muttering under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Wrapping your skin in adhesive sheets, Monica repeats the after care instructions, thankfully and this time you listen.

Carmen had already grabbed your things, motioning for you to start heading out after you both furiously thanked Monica for everything. You crinkled with joy as she hugged you, breathing in the smell of old spice and medical grade rubbing alcohol that followed her.

Her studded rings glistened in the afternoon sun as she waved you both goodbye, as you couldn't help but skip in your stride across the sidewalk. Finger tracing the raised blotted skin, whilst your other hand hung onto Carmen as he twirled you around.

“My gorgeous ink stained sweetheart” Carmen called to you, and you were brought back to his chest gently like a tide again.

“Thank you too, you know” You said into Carmen's cotton shirt. It was the one you got him after your first date, it had been a deep cobalt then. You regretted it just as you gave it to him, fearing you were being too forward. And then he wore it until it faded into a light blue.

“Wouldn't even have this forever on me if you hadn't been the one to bring it up again” You replied softly, fingers tracing his jaw.

“Would have spent a year learning how to tattoo myself if you wanted me too. Monica just seemed quicker” Carmen mumbled before you softly hit his chest with a smile.

“Hey, it’s true. Your skin deserves to be remembered, I could trace it till my fingers atrophied and I’d still have the memory of you under my skin memorised” Carmen divulged, eyelids drooping as he leaned down into your embrace.

You shake your head, heart panging so deeply it hurt till you pressed your lips to his. Tasting the outpour of Carmen that he let loose into you everyday.

And Carmen had stayed true to his words weeks later when it had healed, tracing it till his fingers weren't enough. Till he had to wrap his mouth around it and taste it with his tongue.

He swears even your inked skin tasted sweet.

tags <3 @parmforcarm @hansfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @nolita-fairytale

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groovyangelkisses · 2 months

Note

jax’s sons tattoo on his back 😋 thinking about scratching it up

oh my goodness, yes!

he loves the feeling so much, that he pays for you to get your nails done! sometimes, if he's feeling particularly tender, he'll sit with you while you get them done and wolf whistle when they're finished "red hot baby, real nice" :')

and the morning after you've marked him all up? he doesn't care, he isn't fazed, in fact he puts on his white tank and waltzes around the club house proudly. naturally the guys give him shit, tig especially, but he doesn't care, jax'll just motion you over to him, a quizzical "darlin' do a spin for me" falling from his bubblegum lips as you twirl. and once your world stops spinning, he'll wrap his strong arm around your waist and glare up at tig "you're tellin me you wouldn't let her do whatever she wanted to you, dumbass?"

and you know when he fights o'neill? his chest heaving and sweaty and his hair loosely tied up? smiling and soooo cocky? if he had his favorite accessory, the remnants of your dragging hands on his back, he considers it a "good luck" charm. leanin' over to tell o'neill, "no marks buddy, my girl doesn't like to share"

#JAX!!!!!#a little self indulgent #he needs a long nailed girly-girl i cannot tell a lie #suse loves jax #sorry if this isn't the best #i'm having a tough day :(#jax teller headcanons #jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller #jax teller oneshot #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam x reader #jax teller smut #jax teller fluff

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shakespeareanwannabe · 1 month

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 19

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, crying, discussions of therapy, sadness, reference to divorce, references to labour and delivery (not explicit but detailed), references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital, self-doubt and self-loathing

A/N: Surprise! I somehow got this chapter done in just a week, and it just so happens to be the last one! If the winds are with me, the epilogue should be out next Friday. But I just want to take a second and thank everyone who is read, commented, reblogged, liked. It means everything to me to get to play in this sandbox, and I really appreciate all the love!

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

“One more big push, honey. One more and then you can have a little rest!” The OBGYN urged.

“I can’t! I can’t do this!” Buttercup sobbed, head falling forward as she panted. She felt like she’d been at this for days. She hadn’t slept in over 24 hours. Everything hurt. She missed her bed. She missed the little home she lived in with Jake. She missed not being in pain.

“Shhh, Buttercup. It’s okay.” Jake soothed from his seat on a little stool right by her head.

One gesture from him and the room silenced. He’d been her rock through this whole ordeal, never once leaving her side, never complaining about not getting any sleep or how hard the couch was. He rubbed her feet and her back, fed her ice chips, snuck her a little snack because frankly the hospital’s No Eating While in Labour rule was fucking barbaric. He wasn’t about to make his wife starve herself for over a day on the off chance that she would need surgery. Without letting go of her hand, he stood and propped himself on the bed in front of her. She had opted to push on her hands and knees. Perhaps not the most dignified position, but it was the one she felt most comfortable in. Or at least, the position she had felt the most comfortable in. Honestly, she hadn’t known comfort in over 12 hours.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed quietly, squeezing his hand as another contraction rocked her body. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” It wasn’t Jake’s Texan drawl that comforted her now. It was Hangman’s no-nonsense voice that cut through the sleep deprivation and pain. “I know you’re scared, darlin’. I know you’re hurting. I know you want this to be over. You’ve been a fucking rockstar all fucking day and you deserve a break. Now, I’m going to come sit in front of you on the bed, okay?” Jake peeked around at the doctor to make sure it was alright before moving the pillows and sitting against the headboard. “You’re going to put your hands on my shoulders and you’re gonna squeeze so damn tight that you’re going to receive a citation for damaging military property. But you’re going to give us one more big push. Our babies need you right now. Okay?”

Buttercup couldn’t help but nod. Not when she was looking into the beautiful green eyes of the man she loved. She could do this. She could be brave and face the pain, the fear. For him. For their two beautiful babies.

Her next contraction came and went in a flurry of activity. She couldn’t remember the pain or the fear. But she could remember the nurse handing her a squirming baby girl before handing Jake the scissors and letting him cut the cord.

“Baby number 2 is on the way, but you should have a few minutes to cuddle with baby number one before you need to get back to work, mama,” Dr. Friedman smiled at the family of 3 while swapping out her gloves.

“She’s beautiful, darlin’.” Jake pressed a kiss to Buttercup’s sweat-slick forehead. “You still like her name?”

Buttercup nodded, panting heavily as she leaned against him, cradling their daughter between their bodies. “Abigail Juliet Seresin. Want to hold her?”

Jake took the tiny girl in his arms and felt something inside of himself melt. The most perfect little being in the world, and she was half him, half Buttercup. “Hey Abby,” he murmured, hearing a monitor start to beep more rapidly. “I’m your daddy. The total badass that was just holding you is your mama. And your sibling is on their way, I think, so I’m going to pass you off to this lovely nurse to hold you so I can help your mama.”

With one more big push, another flurry of activity, and a sigh of relief, their second daughter entered the world. Jake scooped Buttercup into his arms to help her settle into a more comfortable position before the nurse handed her the second squalling baby. Abby was wrapped in a light pink blanket and deposited in her father’s arms.

“Charlotte…” Buttercup murmured, limbs shaking with exhaustion. “Charlotte Delta Seresin.”

Jake couldn’t help the tear that came to his eye. “They’re perfect. You’re perfect.”

Neither were aware of what the nurses were doing around them, and they didn’t really care. Both were enamoured with their daughters. Their family.

Staring at his three girls, Jake made a vow. A vow that would supersede any he made to the military. He would do whatever it takes to be there for his family. To protect them. He would never, ever stop fighting for them.

London, England, Now

Everything had been packed into her duffle bag. Childcare had been arranged. There had even been a convenient black cab sitting outside of her house. And then…he was there.

“Jake?”

The man in question stood at her front gate, a bouquet of pink roses in one hand and a gym bag in the other. The black cab idling behind him trundled down the street as they stared at each other.

He looked as tired as she felt, and she felt the heavy press of guilt weigh down on her shoulders. She had done that to him. She had left him behind, left Charlie behind, and he had to deal with the consequences of her actions.

One hand lingering on her front gate, he offered a tentative smile. “Hey Buttercup.”

“What…” She swallowed back the emotions suddenly clogging her throat. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, it took about ten seconds for me to realize that I didn’t want you to go. I would’ve been here earlier, but organizing childcare, last-minute flights, someone to take over ranch business…” He sighed and shrugged. “It took a bit to get everything settled. But I’m here now because I realized something.” He reached over and opened the latch to her gate, swinging it open to let himself in. In two strides, he was standing at the foot of her stairs.

“What did you realize?” she murmured.

He handed her the flowers, his hand lingering to give hers a tight squeeze. “I realized that I listened to you give all sorts of reasons for why you couldn’t stay, and I gave you reasons why you could. But I never gave you the reasons why I want you to stay.”

She pulled the flowers up to her nose to give herself a moment to compose herself. Never in a million years did she think that he would follow her. Not when she was the one who left. But there he was, standing on her front stoop in London, giving her flowers and wanting to talk to her.

She sniffled. “Let’s go inside.”

Jake nodded gratefully and stepped up to stand at her back as she fumbled with unlocking the door again. “Is Abby home? I’d love to see her but this conversation…I don’t think it can wait.”

She turned her head back to look at him, so handsome in his red flannel and blue jeans. “She’s at a friend’s house. Bob dropped her off before going to work. Where’s Charlie?” Her heart ached, remembering how Charlie had refused to even meet her gaze as they had packed into the airport taxi.

“With Nat and Javy.”

She nodded and let him into the house, dropping her duffle onto the floor and guiding him into the living room. “I’m just going to get some water for these,” she murmured. “Do you want something to drink?”

Jake shook his head, staring around the room as she disappeared into the kitchen. Being in her space felt natural. Almost like he had been there before. The dark teal walls set off the walnut furniture, and he recognized a few of the paintings hanging from the walls, prints that she had mentioned over a decade ago that she loved. Photos of her family lined the mantlepiece. Most were of Buttercup and Abby, but there were some photos of Bob and Natasha as well. The whole space felt homey, lived in, in a way that he hadn’t expected. He could see why she had wanted to come back. This was a home she had built for herself. He’d be hesitant to give it up too, if he had been in her shoes.

A light clearing of the throat turned his attention back to Buttercup, standing in the doorway to the kitchen. “Do you want to sit?” She gestured to the soft suede couch, and he took a seat on one end, green eyes following her as she settled into an armchair next to him, a small side table in between them. The silence stretched between them as Buttercup picked her fingernails, staring down at her hands. Jake could only watch her, all the words he wanted to say building up in his chest.

“I’m sorry—”

“I wanted to tell you—”

Their words mixed together in a jumble until they stopped and grinned at each other, embarrassment painting their features.

“Do…do you want to go first?” Jake offered, noting the almost desperate look in her eyes.

She nodded; eyes fixed on her fingernails. “I’m sorry. I never…I mean, it wasn’t supposed to. Jake, what I’m trying to say is…” She nearly growled in frustration. “I was going to type up everything I wanted to say to you on the flight and memorize it so that this wouldn’t happen.”

“Flight? You were coming to see me?” He could feel the hope blossoming in his chest, and he fought to push it down, smother it so as to not scare her off.

“I…” she blushed. “Yeah. I wanted to talk to you. How I left…it wasn’t fair. To you or Charlie or Abby. I wanted to clear the air…maybe, try to fix things. If you wanted to.”

A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I want to.”

Her responding smile was a weak, nervous thing, and he reached out his hand to grasp hers. “I’m sorry, too.” She opened her mouth to argue, but he squeezed her hand, silently urging her to let him speak. “I probably shouldn’t have taken you to bed that night. Not because I didn’t want to. God, I wanted to. I’d basically been white knuckling it since I dove into that hotel pool after you, and when you told me to kiss you, I kinda lost my grip.”

“You lost your grip?” Her voice was incredulous, and he grinned in response.

“You’ve always been able to knock me off my game, Buttercup. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” He smiled at her, squeezing her hand as she blushed. “But I should’ve known what that would do to you, to us. Especially since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it and what it meant.”

She nodded, tilting her head to look at him. “What…what did it mean?”

He huffed a sigh, leaning his head back against the suede sofa. “Jesus, Buttercup…it meant everything to me. Holding you again, feeling you again…” He sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. “It felt like things were finally back to normal. I woke up with you in my arms again after almost 12 years. I got to kiss your cheek that morning as I snuck out of bed to make our family breakfast. I got to hang out with both my daughters. We were planning a full day of fun family activities, and it felt so fucking domestic that the Jake from 15 years ago probably would’ve punched me in the dick for being so soft.” He grinned at the soft rasp of her chuckle. “And yeah, I was pretty pissed off when you told me you were leaving. I saw my daughter hurting and I was hurting, and I lashed out at you.”

“I deserved it.”

He was already shaking his head before she could get the words out. “Not like that, you didn’t. I basically told you the same shit I did 12 years ago when you told me you wanted to take the job out here. I didn’t listen to you. And looking at this place, who can blame you for wanting to come back?” He looked around again, wishing the walls could talk. Wishing they would tell him stories of the 12 years he missed out on because he was such a stubborn prick. “You built a life for yourself and Abby out here. You should be proud.”

“And you should hate me.” Her words, gasped out through a sob, brought his attention back to her like a shot. “I abandoned you again. I couldn’t keep my shit together long enough to have a real, adult conversation with you because I was so fucking scared that, if I did, I would stay. We would stay and things would be so fucking good between us, because they were also so fucking good between us, and then the other shoe would drop and I would end up hurt again, except this time Abby would choose you because I’m the monster who keeps fucking up, so I would end up all alone, and I’ve worked so hard to be okay with being alone but I don’t think I would be able to recover from being with you again.” Hot tears streaked down her cheeks, her breaths coming out in heavy pants as she tried to catch her breath. “And I was so damn scared of being vulnerable with you, but it was so damn easy to fall back in step beside you. The dinner, and the football game, and the party, and all these little moments where I found myself slipping, found myself having to remind myself that we weren’t married anymore, and it was scary.” She mopped at her eyes with the sleeves of her oversized sweater and sniffled. “I like who I am better when I’m with you. The scary things aren’t so scary when you’re by my side.” Her admission was so quiet that he had to lean in to hear her. “But needing you like that? I knew it would only hurt me more if I let myself need you again and lost you anyway.”

“You’re not going to lose me again,” he murmured, thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand.

“You don’t know that.”

“What I know…” He tugged her hand so that she turned to face him. “What I know is that I’m going to fight for you, fight to keep you in my life again. Because I like who I am better when I’m with you too. I’m less of a condescending prick when you’re around. I don’t take stupid, unnecessary risks when I know that I’ve got you to go home to. I don’t…” He cleared his throat, ready to admit the one thing he had never spoken aloud to anyone, not even his therapist. “I don’t feel the pull to get back in the air when I know that the best thing in my life is on the ground. I just never realized that until I lost you.” With another tug at her hand, he pulled her onto the couch beside him. “I told you that I gave you all sorts of reasons why you could stay, but I never told you why I wanted you to stay.” He raised a hand to brush the tears from her watery eyes, broad palm cupping her cheek. “I want you to stay because of how warm and happy the house feels when you’re in it. I want you to stay because of how much lighter Charlie is with you in her life. I want you to stay because you make Rooster less of a miserable dick.” Her snort of laughter made him paused, heart warming at the sound. “I want you to stay because my life hasn’t been the same since you walked out of our home that night, divorce papers signed on the kitchen table with your wedding ring on top.” His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone, and he let those words that were burning in his chest escape. “I want you to stay because I love you and I want to give us another chance.”

Buttercup crumpled into his chest, Jake’s arms going around her to hold her close as the words sank in. He felt safe and warm. He felt like home.

They stayed like that for what felt like hours. Jake only moved to go get Buttercup a glass of water from her kitchen. That had been another peek into her life here. The walls were a light burgundy, cabinets a light grey with silver fixtures and appliances. When he returned, he pressed the glass into her hand before allowing her to curl up into him again, her tears starting to clear.

“How don’t you hate me? I hate me.” Her quiet, ragged voice broke their silence.

“I think maybe that’s the problem,” he murmured, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair. “I never hated you. I tried to, but the more I tried, the less I hated you. It was like…by trying to rationalize hating you, I ended up playing Devil’s advocate for why you left.” He chuckled quietly. “I kept coming to your defence against myself. I guess I just don’t have it in me to hate you. But you…” His firm but gentle hand traced her cheek before tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. “You’ve always been harder on yourself than anyone around you. And I get that. I practically invented that. Part of what made me fall in love with you is that you have the same drive to be perfect, to be the best at everything. That’s what made me the best at Top Gun. That’s what’s made you an award-winning author and a fucking incredible mother. When you got sick, I think maybe you kept blaming yourself for it not being perfect, which only made it worse?”

Buttercup nodded against his fingers on her chin and sighed. “My therapist and I talked about it a lot. I’ve been working on letting go of trying to be perfect, but it’s hard to reconcile with. I did a lot of damage.”

“So did I,” Jake murmured back. “I was basically a team pariah before you came along and turned me into a half decent human being. And maybe if I had admitted to someone—to Mav or Penny or my grandfather—that we needed help, that we were struggling, then maybe I could’ve gotten us both help before divorce became the only option. But living in Texas, having my grandfather around, it really helped. When I was struggling, he told me that I had to work on forgiving myself for letting us fall apart. It took a long time, longer than it should have.” He chuckled morosely and ran a hand over his hair. “Mav always used to tell us that we couldn’t afford to think in the cockpit. That we had to act on instinct and not get caught up in our mistakes. Letting you go, getting divorced? Those are the mistakes that I could never move past. Maybe because I knew I needed to fix them? I don’t know. But I was finally able to forgive myself for the part that I played. And this isn’t going to work if you don’t do the same.”

Fresh tears spilled over Buttercup’s cheeks. “But what if we do try again and it doesn’t work?”

“What if it does work?” He tugged her close and brushed away her tears. “What if it does work and it ends up being incredible?” He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, reveling in the way she melted against him at the simple touch. “Don’t you think it’s worth it to try?”

Lips trembling, Buttercup met Jake’s green gaze. “You’re worth it,” she whispered through her tears. “You always have been. I just don’t want to hurt you again.”

“You won’t.” Jake’s soft, Texan drawl brooked no argument. “We’ve worked through our crap. We know what to look out for. We know how to communicate better than we did before. And we’ve got a whole team behind us who want us to succeed.” He smiled down at her, so soft and full of love that the last of Buttercup’s defences melted away. “I love you, Buttercup. I always have and I always will. I know we’ve got a ton of logistical bullshit to figure out, like where to live and—”

“Actually—” Buttercup cut him off with a small, sheepish grin. “I might have talked to my company before you got here.”

Jake went impossibly still. “You did?”

She shrugged shyly. “Bob made a good point. I’m the one with the awards, I’m the one with my name on the covers of the books. I should be the one in charge. So…I pointed that out to them. And after a few ultimatums and making one of the lawyers cry, we were able to come to an agreement.” The hope in Jake’s eyes made her chest ache. She reached out and trailed a soft hand over his cheek. “I might have to keep some strange hours, and I need to come back for in-person meetings once a quarter, but otherwise…they’re alright with me working from home. In Texas.”

Jake’s responding whoop of excitement had her covering her ears for all of a second before he scooped her off the couch and spun her around.

“Whoa, whoa, easy cowboy!” Buttercup laughed, hands on his broad chest to steady herself.

“You’re sure this is okay with you?” Jake breathed; face so close to hers that his breath fanned over her.

“I…I want to try again.” Buttercup teared up as she said the words, but she knew them to be true. The truest words she had ever spoken. “I love you, Jake Seresin. I don’t think I ever stopped. And I want to move to Texas to try this again with you.”

Jake’s smile was more brilliant than the Sun. “As you wish, Buttercup.”

Buttercup launched herself into his arms, the arms that had held her and kept her safe for so long, as she heard a key jangle in the door.

“Mum?”

“Abby, darling, I told you. Your mother has gone on a little trip. She will be back soon.” Genevieve’s lilting voice held no admonishment, only reminder.

“We’re in here,” Buttercup called through a laugh, head buried in Jake’s chest.

“Mum?” She could hear Abby coming closer. “Did you miss your flight? Where were you go—DAD!” Not willing to let go of his Buttercup, Jake extended an arm and wrapped Abby up into their embrace. “What are you doing here? Where’s Charlie? What’s going on? Mum, why are you crying?”

Buttercup gently soothed her through her tears, a bright smile on her face. “Shh, babe. It’s alright. I was going to go back to Texas to talk things through with your father, but he beat me here. And…” She smiled brightly at Jake. “I think we came to a solution that will make everyone happy.”

“Oh, that is wonderful news!” Genevieve cooed from her place in the doorway.

Jake turned to smile at her and stilled. “Buttercup?”

“Yeah?”

“Why is a French supermodel standing in your living room?”

The three ladies laughed at Jake’s astonished face. “You must be Jake Seresin. I have heard so much about you from Robert.” Genevieve extended one perfectly manicured hand out and he shook it dazedly.

“Robert?”

“Did I hear my name?” Bob’s voice called from the front door. A few steps brought him to the living room, where he wrapped an arm around Genevieve’s shoulders. “Hi sweetheart.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek and Jake’s mouth dropped even further.

“Bonjour, mon amour.”

Jake tilted his head to whisper in Buttercup’s ear. “Your brother is dating a French supermodel?”

Before she could do more than giggle, Buttercup heard her front door open again.

“You know, y’all should really change the locks after someone moves out.” Natasha’s voice boomed through the house. “I know it’s only been like two days but c’mon.”

Buttercup’s head whipped towards Jake. “I thought you said Charlie was with Nat and Javy?”

He grinned, so cocky and self-assured. “I did. I just never said where Charlie, Nat and Javy were.” He pressed a small kiss to her cheek. “You didn’t think that I would fly across an ocean to visit my wife and leave our daughter home alone, did you?”

Buttercup flushed because, well, that’s exactly what she had been planning to do.

“We’re in here!” Abby shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.

Charlie bounded around the corner and, without hesitation, launched herself at her mother. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye!”

Gasping for breath, Buttercup wrapped her arms around her daughter and squeezed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m the one who is so sorry. I shouldn’t have left. I was scared.”

Charlie nuzzled into her mother’s chest. “Scared?”

“Yeah, honey.” Buttercup reached out an arm and pulled Abby close too. “But I’m not anymore. Your dad and I talked, and he helped me realize that I can’t let my fears rule my life. It’s not fair to anyone.”

“And what does that mean?” Bob asked, one hand resting on Genevieve’s back. He reached over to hug Natasha close as she came further into the house, Javy in tow.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that myself.” Nat cocked an eyebrow at her.

“It means…” She smiled over at Jake, who couldn’t help himself. He pressed a slow, sweet kiss to her lips, feeling everything in his life click into place, like the puzzle that was his life was finally complete. “It means that we’re going home. We have a lot of work to do, and it might not be perfect, but it’s worth it. We are worth it.”

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#glen powell #jake seresin x reader #as you wish fic #jake seresin #top gun maverick #parent trap au #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #jake hangman fic #hangman x reader #tgm fic #tgm #top gun maverick fanfiction

140 notes · View notes

dianadiaries · 1 month

Text

— my motorcycle.

🐈‍⬛️ notes. : meanish!jungkook sub!reader dom!jungkook, smut, motorcycle sex. [These are small notes not all.]

✒️ : all minors will be blocked, please mind you are what you consume. WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT

— INTRODUCING ...

You sighed another day had pasted and you still haven't seen that strange man from before.. his perfect pitch black hair and rough skin. Don't even get me started on the tattoos that were embedded on his arm. He was your type.. your kind of man and the motorcycle was the chery on top for you.

I wanted him...I need him.

"Well well...(your name) who are you looking cute for?" The lady who ran and owned the bar asked as she saw you looking around for something. You giggle a tad and look down at your outfit before answering her question.

"Maybe Ma'am, it's this guy." You say still looking down at my outfit... well you needed to stick out especially if you wanted to get his attention..

"You see darlin' it's always with them boys.. he better treat you right little missy." She says eyeing me down before giving a smirk and laughing it off. You giggle with her and nod your head.

— I like the way your body is.. is that to obvious?

as if you had summon him with the conversation. You hear the bar's door slam open.. it was him.. the JUNGKOOK. The man you have been waiting for... the man for you.

< right? He has to want me..? ... wait is he- wait he is walking up to me.. wait no not me to the tab.. >

You think to yourself and quickly hide your flushed face as he continues to walk this way. You quickly run to the washroom to clear yourself up before leaving... today was a small step.?

< why can I just ask him out.. >

Before you can think again is quickly cut off by the bathroom door slamming open, it was him? WAIT it was him.

"Your..(yourname) correct?"

Jungkook says slightly looking up and down.. his eyes lingering around the curves of the short dress.

"Uh.. y-yes.. how did you know."

You say mentally fucking yourself for stuttering infront of this Godess and God of a man.

"The lady up there said you have a thing for me.. and I do for you to princess. So.. will you join me"

Jungkook says lifting up your chin very slightly and looking you in your eyes, you look up face probably even more flushed then it was before. You give him a quick nod and he grabs my hand and we rush outside.. little did you know the lady in the tab was smirking... her little plan was working..

"Mm princess you... look amazing. Shit.. I want you.. can we do it on my motorcycle.. please anywhere."

Jungkook says with a cute begging tone . How can you even say no.

"Fuck. Yes please sir, ruin me here.!" I say in a more or equal begging tone..

Jungkook slightly smirks.. his ego probably boosting to the neediness of your voice, what can he say.. he is a man whore he bends you over on his motorcycle making sure its balanced.. insured to not fall.

"S-shit... is this okay princess?"

Jungkook says, and you nod and balance yourself even more as Jungkook smiles then starts to lift up your dress revealing your now soaked panties.. Jungkook chuckles at the sight.. He suddenly took your panties off and stuffed them in his pocket... he said it was for safekeeping. Then he sticks his two slim fingers up your cute squishy cunt.

"M-mm..!! J-jungkook.."

You can barely moan out.. you knew his fingers were long but not this long.. holy shit. Although Jungkook doesn't say anything he keeps to himself and focuses on your cunt and its noises. Soft and warm squelches are heard from your cunt and Jungkook's lengthy fingers pumping in and out... like a washing machine cycle.. over and over again.

"I'm close Sir!! Please can I make a mess? Can I cum!?"

You say in a whining tone..

"Mm your a good slut.. that's fine cum over my fingers like a whore princess."

Jungkook says not paying any mind to your cunt fluttering around his fingers as your cunt squirts your sweet juices all over his motorcycle.

— Like kehlani is, Bad just like kehlani

Jungkook brings his fingers up to his mouth and slurps up your sweetie juices.. he could almost bust just to that. But he isn't a total loser to cum in his pants like that. But soon enough his pants and undergarments are off.

"S-shit.. I've been imagining this.. your cute little sexy body on my motorcycle and me fucking you till your a stupid whore and only know the shape of my fucking dick."

Jungkook rambles.. then he pushes his tip in your still tight cunt. With his lengthy dick your unsure if all of him would even fit he could tell and rubbed your cheek and gave you a quick peck. Still pushing the rest of his length in.. then it is finally in... and it's stretching you perfectly.

"F-fuck! Jungkook I need you so bad!! Please move fuck me.. I'm your slut."

You say moaning.. you should feel embarrassed or weirded out.. but you did.. you wanted to be his slut. Anything for him. The only thing jungkook does is accepts your offer and slowly starts to thrust up in your now slutty cunt. Groans and grunts coming out of Jungkook as he speeds up his pace and jisk of things.

"Shit your so fucking perfect baby.. made for this dick right? My slut."

Jungkook groans out still thrusting into your cunt as you squirm.

"Ah.. ah. Yes sir !! Y-y-yes sir !! Your slut.. slut.. fuck I'm about to c-cum!!"

You moan out feeling your cunt squish down on Jungkooks huge dick. Jungkook nods in approval..

"I'm close to baby.. shit cum with me."

Jungkook says thrusting in your cunt at an even faster pace then before.. then you feel your high wash over you.. your juices all over. Not even seconds after that you feel a hot liquid spilling in you.. jungkooks seed.

"I love you so fucking much.."

Jungkook says kissing your everywhere

"I love you mo-"

RING RING RING...

"9:00 am."

what..? It was a dream.? You almost torn off your blanket.. wait where were your panties?...

kehlani....

✒️ : AUTHOR NOTE!! : mm this was okay kinda good kinda bad you know!

#jungkook #bangtan #kpop imagines #bts hard hours #bts #bts jungkook #bts army #bts smut #jungkook x reader #namjoon #park jimin #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #fanfic #army bts #Spotify

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midnightblues444 · 10 months

Text

Meanie weanie |

Executive Ran x executive! Reader

Summary: after years of banter you've learnt not to take anything that Ran Haitiani says seriously, but cant help but wonder when the jokes end

Tags: smut with plot, workplace romance,

Sorry for being so inactive guys!! But here's a little thing

The cool evening breeze softly decorates your skin with goosebumps. The balcony you found refuge on is mostly empty, guests spaced out in huddles of conversation while you gingerly sip on a sweet cocktail.

"Mind if I join you there darlin?" the voice is male, annoying, you can tell as he saunters closer. You raise your brows without a word, raising your glass to your lips.

"So, you here with anyone?" He tries to be smooth

"No actually" you mumble, rubbing your slightly cold arms

"Ah so what brings you here then if not a date?"

"Business, its my company's event, so not really here for fun" your sips turn to gulps, you want this conversation to end

"Ah cmon theres room for a little fun right?" He shoots again, with a loopy grin

"Well I was having some fun before you showed up" you give him a look, turning to face him with as much annoyance you can muster. The offence paints his face as he prepares to say something else.

"Ohh ouch, she got you there man" the familiar sound of Ran Haitianis deep voice,of course, as if he just appeared. The man huffs, embarrassed to say anything else, you motion with your hands for him to shoo and glare before he leaves.

Ran turns to you with a pleased look on his face.

"You're so mean miss (name), it's hot"

You take a sip and glare at him over the rim of your glass, Ran Haitiani, your fellow executive who knows no bounds, hes beautiful unfortunately...tall, not too slender, with sleepy lilac eyes, tonight his dress shirt clings by his shoulders and his sleeves are rolled halfway up his forearm, revealing his tattoo.

Hes a flirt, a reputable man whore, you've tried to stay away from romantically. Being cautious not to fuck your colleague even though hes as fuckable as this. Although youve been testing your luck with some flirting, harmless banter, you call it.

"your dance card full?" He grins,

"Yes actually, theres a line of gentlemen waiting for my hand" you sigh giving your voice an exaggerated trill, putting your glass down

He grins wider, taking your hand in his, like a victorian gentleman, "then they'll have to wait longer hmm?"

Dancing with Ran felt like one of those moments where you catch yourself thinking he might genuinely like you. That the flirty banter is laced with hidden feelings hes scared to admit,

Its in the way his eyes never leave your own, his hand on the small of your back guiding you to the music, he doesn't make awkward small talk instead he makes fun of some poor passersbys and you laugh quietly trying to not make it obvious your laughing at a target.

It's nice, until the the songs over and Yuki,a woman from the company's catering service asks to steal him from you, just for a moment of course, forcing you to leave the dancefloor.

Hes not yours, you know that much, but cant ignore the feeling you get in your stomach when you notice his hand placement , finding yourself stomping back to your hotel room. Its moments like these where you hate company trips, wishing you could be in your own bed sulking for as long as you pleased.

You exit the elevator, deciding to take your heels off before continuing on. Sudedenly hearing your name get called from behind you. Ran, once again just appearing. You roll your eyes as he gets closer.

"Why'd you go?" He tries to hide that hes panting

"Did you take the stairs?" You avoid his question

"Elevator was occupied." hes quick "whyd you go?"

"Just felt like it"

He gives you a look, he doesn't buy it

"I mean...I'm pretty tired and Yuki came so I just didnt feel like standing there and if I went back to our table, the rest of the guys would probably tease me about us dancing together- and I really am not in the mood for that and... why are you looking at me like that"

Hes staring at you, no, hes gazing between your eyes and lips. Hes amused, grinning. "Jealousy makes you look super kissable" he smiles

"Stop just saying nonsense" you correct him rolling your eyes

"I never just say anything miss (name)" he steps closer

You huff in disbelief, looking away, when his hand suddenly on your chin turns you to face him "stay still, and ask me to kiss you"

Your breath hitches, you stare at him and then his lips, your heart races. You know hes being serious and this is now a moment of truth.

"Kiss me then Haitaini"

He grins so hard you feel it deep into the kiss, he kisses you tenderly, his fingers tracing your jaw and cheeks. Your hands gently hold his wrists, yet find themselves around his neck as it deepens.

You feel dizzy when you pull away, breathless, eyes opening slowly, "shall we move then" you sigh, with a gentle chuckle he laughs too.

In your room, he can barely stop kissing you, groaning onto your mouth, through the door to the edge of the bed.

You begin unbuttoning his dress shirt, discarding it. You kiss his chest and neck while undoing his belt. He gets out of the pants, and is left in just his black boxers.

You push him so that hes laying back on the matress, watch me, you wordlessly command. turning so he can unzip the dress. You slip the straps off each shoulder and let the thing fall down to your ankles, watching how his bulge grows.

You unclip your bra, and slip out of your panties. Hes jerking himself breathless, as you climb over him. Sitting cutely on his dick, you grind your hips teasingly as he groans, you kiss him boldly now, continuing grinding, you can tell he can barely focus by the way he sighs deeply.

You suck hickies onto his skin, and begin guiding him inside you, finally sinking down completely, you both let out a drawled "fuck". As you begin to bounce, desperate to keep the friction.

He chuckles at your whines, bringing one hand to thumb at your clit roughly and the other to take charge of the pace, thrusting upwards to your spot almost desperately.

He moans your name so sweetly each time you clamp down on him. And you feel your brain go to mush at how deep inside you he reaches, filling you up so good, your moans being paired with the sound of skin slapping.

"You drive me crazy" he says, and he means it, his thrusts get messier as he gives give you more,

"so close" you gasp, before you realise it your coil snaps, you arch at the way he doesn't stop and keeps fucking you through it. He finishes soon after you, groaning out curses, you feel his dick spluttering release and it dripping down your thighs.

Your panting as you come down, slowly, laying on him before feeling him turn you over. Climbing over you with his signature grin

"I'm not done with you sweetheart"

#tokyorev x reader #ran smut #ran haitani #ran x reader #tokyorev smut #tokyorev x you #tokyorev headcanons #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani smut #ran haitani x you #tokyo rev smut

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Traditional II

Read the first part here

This part got a bit away from me. But I kinda like it. Hope you enjoy!

“Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

Niall was very accommodating when she arrived. “Hey darlin’,” he smiled holding his hand out. “Nice t’see you again. Did you find everything okay?” He asked.

At the same time, she was trying to take in the beautiful, shiny floors that clicked with heels and others shoes all the way down the long hall. There were glass rooms spaced out at regular intervals between the beautiful wooden doors that looked like they belonged to a vintage castle.

“Yes, thank you. So far so good,” she smiled nervously. In the back of her head, she was thinking about that introductory message Harry sent her. Harry Styles. Styles. Certainly, Styles Incorporated was not the same Harry. The world wasn’t that cruel. Right? Harry would have said something. Even some low-on-the-totem-pole intern would have sparked something in the boss of a successful company like this while perusing a website for a girl to spoil.

“Great,” he smiled. “Follow me, I’ll show you around.” Her phone vibrated in her bag’s front pocket. As Niall showed her the breakroom with a half kitchen and spacious table, she put her lunch in the fridge and checked the message. Have a great day, love. You’ll do great. Excited to meet you later and hear all about it. No, he didn’t know. She decided. He would have said ‘See you around’ or something like that.Sliding her phone back into its space she turned her attention back to Niall. “Nervous?” He asked with a grin.

She nodded then shrugged with a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. “Kind of,” she admitted. “You’re very nice. I’m worried I’ll mess up.”

“Then you’re going to do great,” he chuckled and tilted his head toward the hallway. “This whole floor is ours; your office is small—sorry about that. A makeshift attempt and you deserve better. If it’s any consolation, most days m’not even in the office so you can lounge around and do your work in my space. I tried convincing Harry that you’ll need more but—”

She blinked and felt her heart rate take off before she could stop. No. “Harry?” She questioned, interrupting quickly.

Niall smirked. “My best friend...and the boss. Don’t worry, he’s a softie at heart. Just don’t lie to him. He loves authenticity. M’sure you’ve heard rumors about past interns and—"

Her tongue felt dry; she wished she had taken her water bottle from her lunch bag. Her boss’s boss was...it couldn’t be that coincidental, right? If he knew there was a conflict of interest, she would either have lost her...outside position or this internship. Right? Niall was explaining the reputation of the rapid rotation of interns. She assumed one wrong look would leave Harry mad and Niall would have no choice but to let them go. “I have a good feeling about you though,” he smirked at her as he continued walking back toward his office...their office.

“Niall.”

“Speak of the devil,” Niall smirked as he muttered under his breath to her. Turning toward his name she spun on her heel at the same time to see Harry approaching. He was tall and beautiful. But she already knew that from his profile picture. He wore a collared button down and the collar was pressed firmly and stiffly against the dark green sweater he wore over it. With sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he displayed a multitude of tattoos and veiny forearms that she had to look away from quickly before she drooled. Adorned in a pair of slacks and dress shoes she thought that he knew exactly what he was doing: torturing any poor girl that looked at him as beautiful. She tried looking at his perfectly styled brown curls and his green eyes attached to eyelashes that seemed downright sinful with every blink. His face seemed a bit scruffy, like he forgot to shave this morning.

His gaze didn’t falter even a nanometer. It was perfectly normal to see the girl he had just paid a substantial sum of money to live in a beautiful, highly expensive apartment. She was going to see him tonight for a first date. And yet, here he was, at his company without so much as a flinch of surprise by the fact that she was interning here. “Harry, this is our new intern,” Niall explained introducing her to his best friend.

Harry held his hand out. “Pleasure t’meet you, beautiful. M’name’s Harry, Harry Styles. Make sure t’tell me if Niall is treating y’poorly.”

Her brain wasn’t processing the words. Maybe Harry hadn’t put two and two together yet. It would make sense to separate his personal life with his business. Or maybe she just wasn’t recognizable; she spent a good chunk of time getting ready this morning in hopes of looking pretty but felt she fell short.

Mostly, she couldn’t imagine Niall treating her anything less than perfectly and that quite baffled her. “Oh, thank you,” she managed to say taking his hand and noticing his grip was firm and warm just like a good handshake was supposed to be. Would they do this all again later when they met for dinner? “I’m excited to be here,” she said—that was the truth. She scoured for internships long before she thought of being a companion for someone with Harry’s kind of money.

Harry smiled and turned his attention back to Niall. “Tricked another one, I see,” he mumbled. “I wanted t’know if y’have the report for our first meeting this morning.”

Niall nodded and jerked his head toward the office. “I was just about to show her m’office,” he said opening the door to his home away from home. He held the door for her to follow him and she held the door for Harry, but he shook his head as Niall was already looking at the piles of messy paperwork on his desk. Her first order of business would be to organize that chaos.

“After you, love,” he said holding the door open for her to enter. She mumbled a quiet thank you and passed through the threshold. As she did, she heard him speak, just for her to hear, not Niall, “guess I should’ve asked where y’were interning, hmm?” He hummed quietly.

Her face warmed and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she did her best to maintain her composure. Fortunately, Niall was looking through his messy piles, so he didn’t notice her blushing face or her awkwardness.

“I can organize all this for you,” she decided to say to avoid the way her legs felt numb and shaky.

“I know where everything is,” Niall smirked at her with a grin that said the exact opposite of his words.

“I think you should let her,” Harry agreed. He rolled his eyes and produced a blue file folder with the document inside.

“Right where I left it,” he said passing it to Harry. She giggled quietly and Niall winked at her. As Harry and Niall discussed the file, she glanced around his spacious office with the pretty view. When they entered, she hadn’t noticed the tiny little room that seemed to attach inward through the door they entered. It seemed they went right through her little office. It wasn’t much, a space for a desk, a chair for a guest and a plant in the corner if she was lucky. There was a small window that looked like it belonged in a house, not an office that allowed her a view of the city that faced the nearby ocean.

It was perfect.

“Sorry we were interrupted,” Niall smirked at her. Harry was gone again, and she was slightly grateful, so she didn’t have to think about her strange predicament. “This is yours. I hope it’s not too cramped.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised. “Thank you.”

He logged into her computer. “You’ll have to reset your password, but this is my calendar,” he said clicking through several buttons. “I recommend having it open and whatnot, but it’s really up to you. I tend to need frequent reminders.”

“Like that you’re gonna be late to your 9:30?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

Niall checked his watch. “Yeah, exactly,” he chuckled. “I shouldn’t need anything during the meeting, but if I do, you just knock and enter to announce your presence, don’t be shy, people do it all the time. Just keep an eye on your phone for messages. Do you have any questions at the moment?”

“Do you drink tea or coffee?” She asked.

“Coffee, hot. Cream two sugars,” he said grabbing his laptop off his desk and throwing it haphazardly in his bag. She made a mental note of that.

“I’m going to organize this while you’re gone,” she said looking at the haphazard piles.

He ignored her comment with an eye roll and a shake of his head. “If Harry gets his way, meetings tend to run over the time they’re supposed to be—"

“I heard that,” Harry called fleetingly from outside the office. She giggled.

“—so please come get me if I’m being held against my will and late for another meeting,” he said ignoring his friend.

She nodded. “Will do.”

“Do you need anything at the moment? Otherwise, I’ll let you get settled.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “Course you will. Welcome to Styles Incorporated.”

After organizing Niall’s messy desk, she sat at her own desk and worked her way through the different tabs and things. She was excited to work beside Niall and learn the ropes of his jobs.

She was thinking that if he had two jobs rolled into one, she would be able to take one of them at the end of her internship. But if Harry was her boss, she was thinking that wouldn’t happen. At least now she could learn both and apply to different companies, knowing the ins and outs of two jobs. Her phone vibrated and she hurried to open it, anticipating an SOS message from Niall. She received one halfway through his meeting to which she smirked and informed her he had no need to leave just yet, but asked if she would come get him solely because he was bored. (She did not, but she did ask if he was completely serious because she would have come up with some elaborate scheme if needed.)

Instead, this message was from Harry.

Enjoying your first day?

She felt extremely nervous to be interning at Harry’s company knowing that outside these walls her life was still entangled with his. It seemed like a bad idea. But she was regrettably a bit desperate for money and for the internship. So, if Harry didn’t find fault in the predicament, she wasn’t going to say anything.

Niall was in and out for most of the morning. She sent him messages frequently updating him of his changing schedule.When her office phone rang, she bit her lip thinking of what she should say for a moment before answering. “Styles Incorporated, Niall Horan’s office. How can I help you?”

“That’s adorable,” Harry’s voice said softly. She nearly dropped the phone. Part of her wanted to hang up.

“Oh,” she replied. “Er...Niall’s not back yet.”

“I called to talk to you,” his voice was so deep she could feel it in her toes. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Huh? I’m fine. Do...do you need something?”

“Jus’ wanted t’make sure you’re having a good day, love,” he chuckled.

She blinked and nodded silently. “Haven’t done much. I was going to go get Niall coffee just to feel useful.”

She obviously couldn’t see him, but she could almost hear him smiling. “He’d like that.”

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Styles?” She asked.

“Hmm?”

She pulled a sticky note off the pad from the corner of her desk. “Coffee? Tea? Anything?”

Harry was quiet for a long moment. “Black tea would be nice, thank you, kitten.” She didn’t really need to write it down, but she did anyway. Black tea would be ingrained in her mind forever. She tried not to think about how he called her kitten either. “Jus’ Harry is fine, love,” he murmured, “...in and out of the office.” She was glad she was alone in her office so no one could see her blush.

At the end of the day Niall said he had a good feeling about her. “Mondays are typically craziest. The week will get easier as it goes along. Tomorrow I’ll have more time to show you what I do. Do you have any questions?”

“Er...no, thank you. It was a pretty easy day. I feel like I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did great love! The catastrophe of my desk alone warrants a full-time bonus. Even Harry complimented your phone response, and it was nice you asked him for his coffee order. I’ve had several interns put through the ringer by him, and I think you’re the first to make a positive first-day impression. I think most people are scared of him, which I think is hilarious of course. As I said, he’s a big softie. But none of them ever asked for his coffee order, and he noticed that.”

She smiled nervously knowing there was an ulterior motive to his kindness. “I’d get the whole office coffee if it was feasible,” she smirked. “If I’m here long enough, I’ll suggest they build a shop in one of these offices.”

Niall laughed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about you, darlin’. I hope you enjoyed your first day.”

“I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow,” she promised.

“Sounds good, love. Thank you.”

Her new apartment was hardly unpacked. She wouldn’t have time until the weekend to get it remotely live-in ready either. But here she was, standing among unpacked clothing boxes, clothes strewn about her bed (mattress still wrapped in plastic) as she picked out a dress to wear to her second first meeting with Harry.

It still felt surreal and honestly, she felt a bit stupid for even agreeing. But what was she supposed to do now that there were thousands of dollars in her account that weren’t there the day before? Louis video chatted with her. “How was your first day?” He asked. Eleanor was peering into the camera at the same time as well.

“Oh, I love that dress on you,” she smiled. “You look stunning,” she promised.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Tell us about the internship.”

She sat on the mattress, the plastic crinkling loudly and sticking to her thighs. “I’m interning at his company.”

“Whose?” Eleanor asked her eyebrows pinching together.

“Harry’s,” she mumbled quietly.

“No way.”

She sighed, putting a hand over her face. “This is so dumb.”

Louis was laughing. “That’s hysterical. What are the chances? What did you say?!”

So, she explained the whole day. Overall, the experience was positive. But again, it was about to feel awkward again since she was supposed to meet Harry in half an hour. “Aren’t sugar daddies supposed to be old?” Eleanor asked.

“I think they just have money,” Louis shrugged.

“He is not old,” she confirmed. “He’s like...29 I think.”

“Well good, maybe you’ll fall in love with a normal, functioning member of society,” Louis rolled his eyes.

She sighed. “Do you think this looks alright?” She asked Eleanor, ignoring Louis’ comment. She wasn’t going to fall in love with someone that was paying her both for her internship and simply for existing.

“Beautiful, love,” Eleanor promised.

She sure hoped it was.

The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment. Half a mile. She walked there in ten minutes. Harry was waiting outside as she approached. She was much more nervous now than she was this morning for her first day. The internship she was prepared for, she knew how to do the math and marketing aspects entailed in the description when she applied. She was totally out of her element walking up to the same person who was willing to pay her massive amounts of money just to have dinner with him.

“Did you walk?” He asked in greeting.

“Yes,” she said softly.

He frowned and turned to the car parked next to the sidewalk. He gently hit the top of the car frame twice to gather the attention of the driver. “She doesn’t walk anymore,” he told him. The man saluted from his seat and winked in her direction.

“I don’t mind walking,” she said hurriedly. She didn’t want to be driven everywhere. Certainly, everyone would know. “I walk all the time,” she explained.

“You don’t walk late at night, anymore,” she didn’t love the way he was demanding it, but again, didn’t want to argue with someone that was paying her substantial amounts of money. So, she quietly observed that it wasn’t that late and said as much in a whisper of the air.

“It’s hardly late.”

He turned his gaze to her and stared for a moment. Taking a deep breath in, he exhaled slowly. She noticed the way his jawline flexed, and his eyes were bright despite the evening darkening before her eyes. She noticed he shaved since she last saw him. He replaced the sweater with a suitcoat and to sum up he looked utterly handsome and equally terrifying in that moment. His eyes burned with something a bit angry, and it was odd that the man she worried about while she was at Styles Inc. was much more amenable than what she thought her date was about to be like. “I understand,” he said flatly. “M’jus’ worried about your safety,” he murmured, and she saw the anger dissipate by the second and again was surprised by how different she expected him to be versus the horror stories she heard through the grapevine of the interns that didn’t last.

Obviously, Harry was a businessman, and she was an investment. She could be agreeable, too, though. She nodded in response. “I will keep an eye on the time in the future, but I like walking.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked at his driver for a moment. The man shrugged and Harry sighed. “Noted. Not late,” he amended.

“Not late,” she conceded.

Harry tapped the top of the car once more and headed toward the door of the restaurant. He held the door open and tilted his head in silent command. “Ladies first,” he said much softer now that he was done arguing.

“Do y’want t’order, or would y’like me to?” He asked. The restaurant was obviously gorgeous. Dimly lit and quietly busy. The tables were spread out far enough that she couldn’t hear anyone’s conversation nearby. Gentle instrumental music played in the background. It smelled delicious and she was sure if she wasn’t with Harry, she wouldn’t dream of setting foot in this place as long as she lived.

Harry looked at ease perusing the small, printed menu in his hands. He probably already knew what he wanted—he probably already told the chef when he walked in by merely glancing at the hostess with some secret signal that only someone making seven figures a week could make. While he was at home in this fine establishment, she wished she wore a sweater over her dress. There was a nearby vent causing a draft to chill her skin. Doing her best to ignore it, she desperately thought about asking for some soup. She glanced up from the menu situated on top of her place setting. Nearly terrified by the millisecond: it was too expensive and too fancy. Keeping her cool she nodded, grateful for Harry for intervening on her unfortunate behalf. There was no way he would like her after this catastrophe. “Please.”

He smirked. “What do y’like t’eat?”

“Um, anything really,” she bit her lip. “I had pasta for lunch.”

“So no pasta,” he said easily scanning over the menu.

She laughed lightly. “Actually, I don’t think there’s a limit to pasta for me,” she admitted.

His smile grew, she could see it dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t lift his eyes from the menu. “I see.”

“Mr. Styles. Always a pleasure,” the waiter greeted. “Merlot or Pinot tonight?” He asked.

“Merlot, please,” he said glancing briefly at the waiter before returning to the menu. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to see a wine list, miss?” The waiter asked, looking at the sweet girl across from Harry.

“I’m okay with water,” she said simply.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together, and he finally lifted his head from the menu for longer than a second. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. She really didn’t understand the etiquette of what she was supposed to do or say here. “I...I have to get to work...early tomorrow,” she said awkwardly. Of course, Harry knew that. A little glass of wine wouldn’t hurt anyone. He wouldn’t bat an eyelash at anyone working for him for merely having a glass at dinner. Especially at a place like this.

He nodded slowly, taking her answer in as the waiter watched to see if she’d change her mind. Clearly, he was used to Harry, but this was obviously a first and he waited almost expectantly for her to change her answer. “Can I convince you t’have a glass of pinot?”

“Um...”

“It’s very light, miss,” the poor waiter promised. Maybe he was more aware that she gave the wrong answer than she was. Harry was ogling her curiously. Like she was a true mystery.

“No thank you, I really like water,” she assured him. She wasn’t lying. She did like water. “Do you have lemon water, by chance?”

He glanced at Harry again. “Yes, of course, miss. I’ll bring it right out,” he nodded.

Harry was still staring at her curiously. She was nervous to look up, but she did. His eyes were gentle again. His lips quirked in a smirk that was making her insides melt and warm her up—thank God because she swore the vent was aimed purposefully at her. “I don’t breathalyze anyone on the way in, love. Y’could get a glass of wine if you’d like,” he told her.

She nodded. “I know...I...I just don’t really like t’drink during the week all that much. Especially with work and stuff. Wine...usually gives me a headache too. Thank you, though. I’m sorry if that was awkward or wrong.”

He nearly snorted. Quietly of course. This place was near silent. She wondered what they put in the air to make it so quiet. “Wrong?” He repeated.

“I don’t know. I’m...I’m really nervous,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Kitten, what are y’apologizing for?” He asked shaking his head. “You’ve got no reason t’be nervous. I invited you, remember? I want you here,” he reminded her.

Swallowing, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Really, love. It’s supposed t’be easy and light. Don’t be nervous,” he repeated.

She took a deep breath and looked at him head on. He looked...soft. Like this wasn’t some weird first date that would help figure out the rules of their...companionship. Objectively, he looked like he was her boyfriend...and why wouldn’t he look like her boyfriend? As Eleanor pointed out, he was young. So was she, even younger than Harry. It was obvious Harry was brilliant, but Louis would tell her to stop selling herself short because she was exceedingly intelligent (and on the days when she was willing to compliment herself, she kind of believed that too). The only reason it was unfathomable was the fact that he was twenty times handsomer than she was beautiful and he looked about twenty times as rich.

But still, he seemed to look at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It made her warm. Which, of course, reminded her of how cold she was. “Do they have a soup you could recommend?”

A pause before a slight chuckle. “You are...full of surprises, love.” Of course. No one orders soup at a place like this. Ladies were supposed to order salad. “It’s...warm outside,” it almost sounded like a question. She thought he might even ask if she was feeling okay.

“Um...” she swallowed and gestured in front of herself to point discreetly toward the vent. “The vent is blowing directly at me, it’s...kinda cold.”

Harry’s eyes immediately followed the path of her finger as she pointed and muttered a quiet, “Oh, for God’s sake,” under his breath while she finished speaking. As he stood up from the table, she thought she really messed up now. Harry quickly found the hostess and muttered something before he hurried back to her side of the table. “They’re going to move us,” he told her.

“Oh, God. Harry, that’s not necessary. I just—”

“Love, it’s fine,” he promised, putting a hand on her upper back as he stood by her chair. “M’not gonna have y’freeze before the appetizers.”

“But—”

“Love, it’s fine,” he repeated.

Biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to make a fuss,” she murmured standing up as Harry guided her to a nearby table.

“Not at all, love,” he promised. “I jus’ don’t want you t’be cold. I wish y’said something sooner,” he gestured to the table nearby away from the vents Harry draped his suitcoat over her shoulders before pulling her seat out.

“I’m really okay, Harry. I don’t—”

Gently grabbing her chin between his thumb and finger, he turned her eyes to his. Her breath hitched in her throat. Without his suitcoat he was left in his button down, tie, and vest ensemble and she thought she might lose her mind. It was worse than the rolled-up sweater sleeves. “Kitten, jus’ relax,” he hummed gently. “S’okay. I’ll get y’some soup and a lovely pasta dish,” he promised. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Okay, love?”

She nodded mutely and Harry smiled kindly at her. Coaxing her into her new seat and she waited for Harry to sit. “Sorry about the draft, miss,” the waiter returned settling her lemon water in front of her. “Here is your water. Can I get y’some hot tea?”

“She was wondering about the soup,” Harry interrupted. “Don’t usually get it myself here,” he told the waiter.

He nodded. “Of course,” Harry winked at her as he listed the different varieties they had for the evening, and she quietly chose the mixed vegetable. “Do you want to start with the prosciutto wrapped mango, Mr. Styles?” He asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she interrupted her face warming as she did. “I’m very allergic to mangoes. I know that’s odd.”

“Oh, well then never mind,” the waiter smiled easily. “I will bring the soup in the meantime.”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry about—”

“You’re really going t’apologize for having an allergy?” He wondered.

Swallowing, she nodded. “Umm...”

He chuckled quietly shaking his head. “I think m’really going t’like having you around, love.”

After she apologized at least seventeen more times and thanked Harry profusely, they were finally in the car driving her back to her apartment. She was warm, full, and very happy with how the remainder of dinner went. Harry didn’t look at his phone once while they talked but was now scrolling through his missed messages while the driver was paused at a red light.

She kept her hands in her lap, folded neatly. “Did you miss a lot of calls during dinner?” She asked softly.

He shook his head. “Nothing important,” he smiled gently as he scanned. “Sorry, s’rude of me t’look when you’re beside me,” he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

“No, no. M’sure you have a lot more important messages than just asking me about my favorite color and stuff.”

That smirk of his graced his face again, melting her insides. He shook his head briefly and then tilted his head at her curiously. “What is your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Hmm...y’struck me as a red kind of girl.”

“I did like pink when I was younger but these boys in school made fun of girls that liked pink because it was so girly, so I decided to like blue instead. And I really do like blue. It’s much better for walls and decorations than pink,” he smiled brightly during her explanation, chuckling at her little feminist outcry.

They were parked outside her apartment. “Do you want me t’walk you in?” He asked as she unclipped her seatbelt.

“Oh...um...” the blood flooded her face thinking about Harry seeing the mess of the beautiful apartment Harry bought her and how she would die if he saw it. “I...I’m okay.”

“Hey love,” he said gently, stilling her hand by the wrist as she tried to gather her purse from the floor. “I had a lovely time tonight,” he promised. “I want t’do it again. If you’d like.”

Again, her breath caught in her throat. “Really?”

Chuckling, Harry nodded. “Yes. You’re very funny and sweet.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Of course.”

“Am...do I need to worry about this internship? Because I really need it to get my degree and I don’t want to—”

Smiling, he shook his head. “You have nothing t’worry about, on that front, love. I don’t trust nearly anyone but Niall. He read your application and chose you because y’have the best qualifications and had glowing recommendations. I read them today after I realized I’d be seeing y’much more frequently,” he told her. “I think you’ll do really well,” he promised.

“Oh...good...it’s just...” she took a deep breath. “This is really hard for me to say, but I know interns don’t...typically last very long at Styles Inc. But I really want to...but I also have a very different...predicament,” she landed on after a moment.

He nodded. “You do. But you’re also the only one who shook m’hand, took m’coffee order, and seemed t’know what Niall needed before he did. All on the first day.”

“Tea,” she mumbled. Harry tilted his head in silent question toward her. “Black tea. Not coffee,” like she was reminding him of what he drank.

Harry nodded. “Exactly.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Are you sure y’don’t want me t’walk you up? See y’in safely?” He asked. She hesitated. She wondered if this was part of the...deal. But she really didn’t want him to see how bad it looked right now. Again, especially because he was paying for it.

“Can I be honest with you?” She said quickly.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded. “Of course, love.”

“I haven’t had time to unpack and it’s horrible in there right now and I don’t want to embarrass myself or you because I haven’t...unpacked. Especially when you’re paying for—”

He started to laugh a bit and it made the most beautiful face she had seen to date. His cheeks had a matching pair of indents with two beautiful dimples on either of his cheeks. Her body warmed at the beautiful sound of his laughter filling the car. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “I don’t care about any of that,” he rolled his eyes unclipping his belt and getting out of the car. She grabbed her purse and then tried to get out of the car except the handle was locked. She frowned. Harry opened it in the next instant before she had time to worry that she was trapped inside the back seat.

Smiling beautifully still, he shook his head at her. “Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

She got out carefully, worried she would trip and fall. Harry held his arm out for support, and they strolled up to her new apartment. She held her phone to the key reader and heard the lock click. On instinct, she reached for the door handle, touching Harry’s hand as of course he was ready to open it for her. “Thank you,” she said quietly hurrying through the door.

Harry followed behind her as they walked up one flight of stairs to the next floor. Turning to the left and then found themselves in front of the third door.

“It’s really a disaster,” she told him.

“Y’jus’ moved your stuff over a few days ago, love,” he reminded her. “S’okay.”

“I’m not a messy person. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about my habits and stuff—”

“Kitten, please open the door,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

Shutting herself up, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open, flicked the light on, and gestured for Harry to enter.

“It’s not furnished?” He asked looking at the empty living room area. Just a TV, a few boxes, and a painting strewn on the floor. He moved toward the window, enjoying the view of the city night.

“Uh...no,” she kicked her shoes off and set her purse on the adjoining kitchen counter. “I...lived with my ex before. We rented from his aunt...she had all the furniture.”

“Oh. M’sorry. I didn’t realize, I would have made sure to furnish it for you—”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I just...ordered some yesterday. It’s supposed to be in by the end of next week.”

He turned from the window and stared at her. “You ordered some?” He asked.

Her blood felt cold and she was grateful she still had Harry’s suitcoat still wrapped around her because she was worried her teeth would start chattering. “Uh...yes. I figured you...you gave me a lot of money and of course I had some savings and stuff. And I needed a lot of furniture. I got a lot of tables, bookshelves, and my dressers from IKEA. That should actually be here sooner...and then I needed a couch and a TV stand, and I thought it might be worth having a desk. And I’ve always wanted a nice bed...one that had like a canopy option?” She started but then she realized she was over explaining. “I’m sorry...that was way more information than you needed. So—”

He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. “You bought it yourself?”

“Uh...yes?”

“And you’re going t’put it all together...from IKEA...by yourself?”

“Well...my friends Eleanor and Louis will probably come over and help. Louis isn’t all that helpful—he’s usually too busy making jokes...but Eleanor and I can hold our own.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone like you, kitten,” she blushed and looked at her feet nervously. “I’ll...put more money in your account tonight, beautiful. Order as much furniture you want...but please don’t order stuff from IKEA.”

Biting her lip she nodded. “I don’t need you to put more—”

“Love,” he said gently and came across the room once more. Gently, he cupped his hands around her face. “S’what m’here for,” he reminded her. Carefully, he glanced at her eyes and then quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thought she really might melt. She no longer needed his jacket. It was much too hot in the room, all from a little kiss on the forehead. “See you tomorrow?” He asked pulling away and heading toward the door.

“Um...Harry?” She asked.

“Yeah, kitten?”

“Can you just...text me when you’re home. So I know?”

She saw the way Harry’s eyes danced at her question. “Of course, love.”

taglist: @tpwkstiles

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #ceo!harry #sugardaddy!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #traditional

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ladykailitha · 9 months

Text

The Magic of Christmas Part 4/8

Hello! How are you guys enjoying so far?

In this Steve realizes his feelings, Dustin and Robin decide Steve needs to live forever, and Steve gets roped into something he swore he'd never do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

***

August was fucking miserable. Like the worst month of the year. After February. And January. And September...

That’s besides the point. The point was that AC had kicked the bucket in the middle of the biggest heatwave.

He was going to cry. The wizard piece turned out really well. Steve had loved all the little details that he had put in it.

But the rogue was giving him trouble. It was horrific. Because rogues were silent and mysterious, but the way Steve talked about Will, he was quiet kid, a bitchy teen, and a wild adult. Trying to figure his place in the world he kinda went punk. Dyed his hair bright green. Piercings and tattoos. Ripped clothes and combat boots.

Eddie slowly sat up. Well that’s a thought. He blinked for a moment. That could actually work.

Suddenly his phone rang. He frowned at the device. No one called anymore. It was all texts and DMs and Face Time. The name that came up because there was one, another surprising thing, was Steve.

He dived for the phone and managed to answer it before it went to voicemail.

“‘Ello?” he breathed.

“Hi, Eds,” Steve greeted cheerfully.

Eds.

Fuck.

The things that little nickname did to the butterflies in his stomach.

“Hey, Stevie!” he said back. “What can I do you for?”

“That article Nancy did is making some serious headway,” Steve explained. “I was wondering if you wanted to meet me for lunch to go over the details.”

Eddie laughed. “I was about to text you, darlin’. I have an idea for the rogue I wanted to float by you. So where to, my liege?”

“Monte Cruz, the Mexican place on 7th?” Steve asked.

It was a bit pricey, but it had the best fajitas Eddie had ever had. “Sure thing. 1pm okay?”

“Let me check,” Steve replied.

Eddie could hear him call Robin and while he couldn’t hear her response, Steve’s warm ‘thank you’ meant he was free.

“That’s perfect,” Steve said. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah.”

They hung up and Eddie laid on the floor staring up at the ceiling, holding his phone over his chest.

Fuck!

He got up and dashed to the bathroom to shower. He felt like he was covered in slime.

Steve was waiting for him on the terrace, a nice cool breeze rustling his hair. And Eddie couldn’t help but fall a little bit more.

Eddie waved and was far too pleased to get Steve’s little finger wave in return.

He sat down and grinned at Steve. “How is it cooler outside then in my loft?”

“Heat rises?” Steve suggested. cocking his head to the side.

Eddie laughed. “Well it’s the only thing that rising at this point. It’s so fucking hot.”

“I thought you’re loft had air conditioning,” Steve said with a frown.

“Apparently we worked it to extinction,” Eddie said mournfully.

Steve pulled out his phone. “Are you renting or paying a mortgage? I don’t remember what all we’re paying for.”

“Sadly, we own it,” Eddie said with a heavy sigh. “Otherwise I would have harassed a landlord to get it fixed.”

Steve hummed. “All right, I’ve messaged Robin. She’ll call around and get a technician come over tomorrow. It’ll go on my card if can be fixed or if it needs to be replaced.”

Eddie leaned back in his chair. “You don’t have to do that, man.”

Steve smiled at him. “Will the excess heat hurt your paintings?”

Eddie opened and closed his mouth a couple times before he threw his arms in the air. “Yes! Of course it will.”

“Then it’s a business expense and I’ll cover it.”

“I hate you,” Eddie said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You really, really don’t,” Steve murmured. “Now show me your idea for Will’s rogue.”

Eddie pulled out his drawing pad and flipped to the right page. He slid it over to Steve for him to see.

“Oh Eds,” Steve breathed. “It’s beautiful. He’ll love it.”

Eddie tried not to preen, but he couldn’t help it. “So I can go ahead and start painting?”

“Absolutely,” he replied. “Though maybe wait until after your cooler is fixed.”

Eddie threw his head back laughed. “I think you’re probably right.” He gently took the pad from Steve’s grip. “So what’s going on with the charity?”

Steve lit up. He started explaining about all the people interested opening would basically be franchises but that Eddie would still have full control of each branch.

“This is amazing, Stevie,” Eddie breathed. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m happy to help,” Steve said with a grin. “It means that I get drive Dustin absolutely nuts with this whole charity thing. He’s been begging me forever to meet you.”

“I mean, you can invite him to one of our reeducation of Steve Harrington movie nights,” Eddie said, shoving his hair in his face bashfully. “If you wanted to.”

Steve smiled fondly. “That’s sweet of you. But I was thinking something that would absolutely flip their collective shit even more than a movie night. A Halloween one-shot.”

Eddie’s lips formed an O. His eyes sparkled and he grinned. “I know just the thing. It’s something my friends and I used to do in high school. You have these little half–not even half character sheets that have just the most basic of stats. The point is to die in the most epic way possible. There are rewards for stupidest death, most epic death, TPK. It’s lots of fun.”

“That sounds amazing!” Steve said. “Would you be willing to do it?”

Eddie leaned forward on the table. “On one condition.”

“Oh?”

“You join us,” he said with a grin. “You read the stats, you roll the dice, you die like a bitch, just like everyone else. You’d be on equal footing with the rest of the Party.”

“Can I think about it?” Steve asked shyly, ducking his head.

“Sure thing, big boy,” Eddie replied. “But let’s order lunch. I’m starving!”

Steve laughed. “Of course.”

Robin poked her head into his office and held up a leather folio. “Do you want to tell me what the hell this is?”

“Sorry,” Steve said, “I’m not Spider-man. I don’t have x-ray vision.”

“That’s Superman,” Robin replied with a huff, “and you’re dodging the question. You know full well what I’m talking about.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I really, really don’t. I haven’t done any even remotely outrageous in months.”

She walked up to his desk and slammed the folio on the desk. “Steven Kevin Harrington...”

“Not my middle name,” he sneered. “You know what it is. You have seen my birth certificate way more times than I have.”

Robin laughed. “But it’s so lame, so I make up ones that sound better.”

“Whatever, Robs,” he said with a huff of his own. “What has got you so twisted this time?”

She opened the folio and turned it around to face him. “You booked the Newfield for New Year’s eve.”

Steve smiled widely at her. “I told you I was going to. It’s hardly my fault you were making goo-goo eyes at Eddie’s agent at the time.”

Robin gasped. “I was not!” He raised a single eyebrow and she folded. “Yeah, all right, maybe.”

Steve sat up in his chair and scooted closer to her. “Look, before you start throwing accusations around about feelings and thinking with my dick, it’s for the charity. You know, the one we’re working on right now.”

Robin glared at him. “So it has nothing to do with him making goo-goo eyes at you?”

“He’s not!” he protested. “There’s no way. He can have anyone he wants, he’s not going to go for a stuffed shirt like me.”

Robin raised both her eyebrows. “You can’t actually believe that.”

“You saw his most recent video right?” Steve snapped. “The one where he ranted about how greedy businessmen destroying the environment?”

“Uh...” she said, “you mean the one where he especially called out billionaire businessmen and how smaller companies can change the face of the industry and then went on to list ten things that CEOs can do to change the world and all of them were things you did with Starcourt Ltd. That one?”

Steve blushed. “I guess I didn’t realize.”

“Look,” Robin said sitting down in one of the chairs, “I was wrong about a lot of things when you first hired Eddie for this job. About him, about you and your motives. So I get why you can’t take my advice on this, but he likes you. And more than just a friend.”

He ducked his head as the blush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears down the column of the throat. “Don’t go there, please.”

Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I won’t if you don’t want me to. All I’m saying is that if you think you’re falling for him, too…just know he probably feels the same.”

Steve licked his lips. “Yeah, okay.” Then he suddenly buried his head in his hands. “Fuck, I have to make a phone call.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He lifted his head and sighed heavily. “Looks like I’m going to be playing D&D after all.”

She laughed and laughed as Steve buried his head again.

The kids were never going to let him live this down.

“You’re sending my off for my last year as undergrad,” Dustin whined, “and you’re making me come back for fall break? Why?”

Steve was getting tired of this question. The only people who knew about Eddie DMing for them was Steve, Robin, and Eddie. And probably Chrissy. Oh and Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom. Which meant that all the other moms knew too.

All right, the conspiracy was bigger than Steve thought.

“Because it is your last year,” he said with a sigh. “You’ll be heading off to MIT next year and it’ll be harder for you to come home for the holidays.”

Dustin deflated. “Yeah, okay. So everyone will be home for Halloween?”

Steve brightened up. “Yep! I’m throwing a costume party with pizza and if you guys aren’t shitheads about it, I might even front for a wet bar.”

Dustin frowned. “What the fuck is a wet bar?”

Robin who had just come home, smacked him on the back of his head, knocking off his hat. “It means there will be booze, doofus.”

Dustin who had been about to yell at her for knocking off his hat, turned to Steve instead. “Seriously?”

“Yup! I’ve okay’ed it with all the parental units,” he said, “and I keep an eye on your intake to make sure you don’t get sick, they’re fine with it.”

Dustin launched himself at him and hugged him tight. “You’re the best, Steve!”

“There won’t be beer,” Steve warned. “It’s not the best drink to get started drinking on and bottles tend to hide how much you’ve been drinking.”

“Are they going to be spooky themed drinks?” Dustin asked.

Steve laughed. “Hell yeah, they are.” He ruffled Dustin’s hair. “Now go finish packing. I’m not going to let your mom do it for you this year. You’re an adult. Act like it.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “God, you’re more mom like then my actual mom.”

Steve laughed. “If I got insulted every time one of you called me mom, I would’ve died of a heart attack years ago.”

Dustin hit him on the arm. “No talks of dying. You aren’t allowed. You have to live forever.”

Robin laughed. “Sure, just got to find that elixir of life somewhere.”

“Or the fountain of youth,” Dustin helpfully supplied.

“You could always invent something,” Steve suggested.

Dustin’s eyes lit up. “That’s a great idea!” He dashed off excitedly.

“Pack first!”

Robin laughed.

***

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @carlprocastinator1000 @mogami13 @samsoble

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #christmas #artist eddie #businessman steve #autistic steve harrington

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quietblueriver · 1 year

Text

They’re in my head again (always) so here’s some more Southern Gothic fluff. Once again very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but mostly just them being perfectly, disgustingly in love.

The bones on Laudna’s garland knock together overhead as Imogen ducks under her arm, laughing and stepping close again, squeezing Laudna’s fingers (gently, always gently) before standing on her toes to reciprocate the spin.

Laudna has to bend a little awkwardly to compensate for the height difference, a familiar crack of joints just audible over the music as she turns. She’s laughing when she comes back, smile haunting and bright, and Imogen pulls her close enough to press a kiss to her cheek before twirling her out again.

It’s not long before the deck fills, the rattle of bones a charming if entirely off-beat accompaniment to the music, and a few minutes later, Imogen feels the tap of a skeletal finger on her shoulder. She turns, keeping one hand on Laudna’s waist, to find one of the crewmen shifting from one bony foot to the other.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” And Imogen knows that bones can’t blush, but she can almost see it anyway, nerves working themselves out through shifting hip bones and twitching phalanges, a clenching mandible. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Flaming blue eyes dart to Laudna and Imogen smiles, feeling fond and strangely kin to the skeleton, grateful to be surrounded by souls who see Laudna a little more like she does, who can appreciate the particular beauty of a wilting flower that refuses to give up its spot in the sun.

She raises a brow at her girlfriend, who nods, rubbing a thumb over Imogen’s wrist at her waist.

“Not at all.” She presses another kiss to Laudna’s cheek, a little too close to her mouth to be friendly, and Laudna shakes her head fondly even as she blushes.

No need to worry, darling. I only have eyes for you.

Imogen winks, only the smallest bit embarrassed to have been called out. Can’t blame a girl for tryin’ to make things clear. She tucks a strand of Laudna’s hair behind her ear before stepping back and gesturing to the skeleton waiting patiently beside them.

“Y’all have fun.”

The skeleton dips his skull and moves closer to Laudna. Rather beautifully tattooed waves circle down his radii and ulna, which move hesitantly toward her hand and waist, and Imogen thinks that maybe Kyle isn’t the only sensitive soul on the Crimson Abyss. She hears an enthusiastic, “Hello, there! I’m Laudna,” and smiles as she steps out of the crowd for some quiet.

Laudna finds her leaned against the railing, staring into the fog. She braces her forearms next to Imogen’s, pressing their hips together as she says, “Platinum for your thoughts?”

At Imogen’s raised brow she grins and waves a hand, “They’re clearly worth more than a copper, darling, although we might have to come up with some sort of payment plan if you intend to collect. We could resurrect some of the old shows with Pâté and Sashimi, maybe? Or, I have a few craft project ideas…”

Imogen gives a cursory glance to the crowd near them and then puts a hand on Laudna’s jaw and turns her, leaning up for a kiss.

“You can have ‘em for free, darlin’.” Laudna leans down and kisses her again, lips cool and, thrillingly, a little bit familiar now. “You can have whatever you want from me.”

She means it as a tease, even if she’s absolutely serious, but Laudna’s face changes, brow furrowing as she traces her nails up Imogen’s cheek, brings her fingers down to rest against her nape.

“Yes,” she says, quieter. “About that.”

And Imogen knows, braces, waits. Laudna’s eyes, dark and appraising, meet hers. “Your soul is too precious to risk.” It’s definitive, the usual joyful rhythm of her words traded for a series of hard stops.

“So is yours.”

Laudna blinks. And Imogen understands that even now, even after…after, Laudna can’t quite believe what she means to them, what she means to Imogen, but if this is what helps her to understand, then Imogen is more than willing to give it.

“I…”

She waits patiently, but when Laudna seems unable to find her words, looking down at the railing of the ship and biting her lip, Imogen says, “I know she’s in there with you, and you know I support you doin’…whatever it is you want to do about that. It’s your mind and your body and your soul, Laud. I would never, ever try to take any choice away from you.”

She risks tilting Laudna’s chin up with her pointer finger, a gentle pressure that leads Laudna’s eyes back to hers.

“But I need you to understand how important you are to me. To us. I had to live without you once, and…” She clears her throat as a cry comes from the crowd behind them, the music changing and Chetney yelling something she can’t quite make out. Laudna presses closer to her.

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t intend on doin’ that again, unless you ask me to.” Laudna shakes her head vehemently, nearly dislodging her rock chisel, and Imogen smiles at her. “But even more than that, it’s…you bring so much good to the world, Laudna. You. As you.” She gestures at the garland and tilts her head back to the crowd. “You bring so much joy.”

“That’s kind of you, darling,” she murmurs, ducking her head again, “but joy isn’t power. I don’t have much of that, without her, but you…you do, Imogen. You’re important. Too important to risk.”

She doesn’t sigh, not out loud, but inside she wants to scream. She wants to give Laudna her soul, to dive into her and destroy the bitch who has spent so long torturing the best person Imogen has ever known.

“There is nothing too important to me to risk for you.” A disgruntled noise, but Imogen pushes on, determined. “Think of what you’d give me for me, Laud.” There’s a tiny drop of ichor at the corner of her eye when she looks up, and Imogen catches it with her thumb as it falls. “You have to know I’d give the same for you. You don’t have to understand why, but…you believe me, right?”

Laudna bites her lip again, and ichor wells there too, the skin split with the force of her incisor. It’ll heal, Imogen knows, but she has to stop herself from tutting, settles for freeing the lip with the same thumb already stained black. Laudna watches as Imogen sucks reflexively on her thumb before bringing it back to Laudna’s cheek.

“Laudna?”

Finally, she nods. “I believe you. Of course, I believe you.”

Imogen nods back at her, says softly, “Good. Then you know, when I said you could suck out some of my soul, I wasn’t offerin’ anythin’ that ain’t already yours.”

Laudna sucks in a breath and Imogen kisses her and kisses her until another cry rises from the crowd and they break apart, breathing slightly heavier.

It’s a lot, all of it. Too much, always too much, to have to carry, even if it is easier between them. But as the music strikes up again, another new tune, Imogen wants to take advantage of the chance to do something a little bit normal and dance with her girlfriend. And if it’s in the most abnormal of circumstances—on a ghost pirate ship with music blasting from their sentient robit friend while bone garland swings from above—then that’s okay. That’s perfectly them.

“And anyway, didn’t you say it was kinda hot? The thought of suckin’ out my soul?”

Laudna barks out a laugh and purples, hand moving to her own cheek.

“Imogen.”

She gives her best roguish grin and winks, grabbing Laudna’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

“Always.”

Their friends are in a circle when they return, Chetney throwing his body against the ground in a strange approximation of a worm as the others clap, and Laudna leans into Imogen as they settle between Orym and Ashton to watch, cheering him on.

#critical role #imodna #imogen temult #laudna #imodna fic

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toomuchracket · 7 months

Note

madsss. flatemate!matty and girlie first time showering together and it’s very fluffy and somewhat smutty 🥺

combining with thinking about flatmate first bj (idk if we’ve spoken about it yet??) like he would be sooo so desperate and i cant help but imagine him a little bit subby, not too much just whining and begging because he’s wanted it for so so long and theyre just both so eager and mutually obsessed with each other and just want each other to feel good

the morning after condom-gate! after waking up and snuggling for a bit and having the "bf? gf? yeah" chat (lol), you're like "come on. wanna brush my teeth so i can kiss you again" - matty's like "hello i love you i don't give a shit about morning breath", and you're like "yeah but i also wanna shower. with you, preferably. if you want that". naturally, he's like "are you joking of course i do. never seen you naked in daylight before", and you roll your eyes and stand up (and let him find out you have a back tattoo. there's a blurb about this already somewhere) and walk away (yes you're swinging your hips a bit) and let him run after you like "fuck me you're so hot". teeth brushing happens (like in bring it on teehee), and then - after a bit of debate about how hot the water should be - you pull your boyfriend into the shower to make out with him again, and for a while it's all murmured "i love you" and gentle touches and hands in hair and all that sweet stuff. but then you realise that you're naked in a shower with an equally naked matty, and of course you get Turned On; the kiss gets deeper, and you trail your hand down his stomach to tentatively stroke him and whisper "wanna suck you off", and he CRUMBLES. like you said, he's a bit subby - he whines out a "please", and as you get on your knees he's like "oh my god oh my god", and he gasps when you kiss the we are kings tat (which you've thought about doing for like. years lol) before you take him in your mouth. because it's you doing this for him, it takes a lot for him to keep control for a while, and every time you look up at him he weakens. but he does well, considering, and he's so cute about it; he's got one hand in your hair and the other holding yours (bless), and he's proper babbling like "so fucking good, perfect girl, dreamt about this for so fucking long. fuck, sweetheart, please let me cum, please. love you, love you so much". and you keep him in your mouth until he's totally done, proudly showing him all the cum on your tongue before you swallow and giggle - he actually has to sit down on the shower floor beside you at the sight, before his legs give way, and he kisses you deeply like "thank you for that. definitively the best head i've ever had, darlin. i love you". you're like "i love you. i wanna do that again!", and matty's like "me too, but first - sit down and open your legs for me, sweetheart. your turn to feel good"... hot <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #smutty asks #flatmate!matty

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brnesblogposts · 4 months

Text

Sunday serenity

(repost of old fic)

pairing Matty Healy x Reader

warnings none!

a/n, listen to 'A Sunday Kind Of Love' by Etta James :)

Sundays were always your favourite because there were no expectations. This morning was no different, the sunlight peering through the blinds as you stretched and slowly opened your eyes. Your gaze as you turned over was met by his delicate features, gentle breaths escaping his slightly parted lips and eyelids closed where his lashes met his cheeks softly.

Laying there admiring him, all of him. The messy curls atop his head and his tattoos which you adored. It had been a few minutes of you watching him sleep knowing it was when he was most serene, with no worries or stresses weighing him down, you stroked his cheek softly, moving hair out of his eyes. You decided to go down to the kitchen for coffee, as you were sliding out of bed though, a hand caught your bicep and you turned to see him looking up at you, still half asleep "Stay," he begged softly, his voice raspy as it always was when he first woke. Smiling down at your boyfriend you obliged and slid back into bed, he pulled you impossibly close to him and let out a moan of satisfaction as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your shoulder, nuzzling into your neck.

You enjoyed his closeness for a while before piercing the silence that had fallen between you both "We can't stay in bed forever, love." At this point, you had turned to face him, "Yes we can," He spoke while looking into your eyes and caressing your cheek "Well, maybe you can but I myself am rather hungry." In a fake stern voice "Well that is quite the predicament, isn't it? Okay, we can get up for breakfast but then we're getting back into bed, sound good?" You smiled at his antics before agreeing, the both of you clambering out of bed and heading to the kitchen.

As the kettle came to boiling point you picked it up and went to pour water into the two awaiting mugs when two arms snaked around your waist and lips met your neck "Matty I am holding a pot of boiling water," You poured the coffee' "Well put it down then," he snarked and when he knew the kettle was back down he continued his antics, swaying side to side with you. Eventually, you built up the strength to free yourself from his arms and when you turned to face him were met with a pouty Matty "After I've had some coffee and breakfast we can go back to bed and you may cling to me as you wish." You patted his cheek and sat down at the table with your coffee and bowl of cereal, Matty followed with his bowl and mug and you enjoyed each other's company while eating. As soon as you had the last sip of coffee and your bowl was empty he was reaching for your hand "Time to cuddle again!" Earning him an eye roll "Don't act like you don't enjoy it, most of the time I am prying you off of me." He emphasised and you just smiled at him as he lead you back upstairs to bed, holding you in his arms once again "Mmm," He sighed in contentment as your head lay on his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck.

He played with your hair as you ran a hand up and down his chest "Darlin'?" He broke the silence "Hmm?"

"Do you-“ He paused, he seemed nervous. “What is it, baby?” You looked at him with concern and grabbed the side of his face “Talk to me,”

“Marry me.” He looked at you not blinking, staring right into your soul “W- what?” Gasping in shock as you sat up straight, “Are you serious? This isn’t funny if you’re joking, Matthew.” Your face serious. “I want to wake up with you everyday, I wanna to laze around in bed with you every Sunday and I most of all want to spend the rest of my life with you, you’re it for me, you make me a better man, there’s nothing I want more than the honour of being your husband” He breathed as he finished and you just looked at him for a second before crashing your lips onto his, straddling him as he held the sides of your face “Is that a yes?” He broke the kiss to ask and you just laughed “Yes, Matty. I will marry you” and your lips crashed together again.

You held your hand out in front of you “Can’t wait to put a ring on that, i’ll get you one this week! You can even choose if you want,” He kissed the side of your head “I want you to pick it, it seems more romantic and personal that way, knowing this was the ring you thought would suit me best” you turned looking at him. “Can’t believe you said yes,” He grinned “Y/n Healy has a nice ring to it.” He grinned from ear to ear.

“I love you” You whispered as you nuzzled into him and as you closed your eyes and took him in you heard a faint “I love you Mrs Healy” and you both giggled. You spent the rest of the day in bed, a perfect Sunday.

——-

thank you for reading! once again, reblogs are appreciated and i hope you liked it :)

#matty healy #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy x reader #matty healy fluff #matty healy fic

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ollieneedstherapy · 6 months

Text

Sam Collins Headcannons

THIS MAN. I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN.

-He’s so stupid….so so dumb, but so so smart? This man can’t do simple math but ask this man to fix your car? Done.

-He’s not a coffee or tea drinker, he likes lemonade or orange juice

-was raised in an ‘just waters’ house

-my man, has black out curtains everywhere, he has one for every room. He bought some for darlin’ since they normally sleep in his room and they got used to the dark :’)

-All male Vampires are simps. Him,Porter, Vincent….cause I’m only attach to 3 of the vamps….(yes I’m totally fine after the summit….)

-he’s red green colorblind

-Him and Darlin’ share clothes all the time, Darlin’ once caught him wearing their jacket after a really bad day

-He has really bad anxiety, like really bad

-Sam has been trying to learn more Smash to impress the pack, Darlin’ told Asher this and he now texts Sam randomly to ask ‘if he’s finally getting better’

-Sam is so scared of David….but he also finds him attractive

-He has been called a dilf. More than once.

-He’s the oldest of 3 siblings, all girls, he has their names tattooed on his back

-Speaking of tattoos, he has the one of his sister, a book quote, one on his thigh (Darlin’ is the only one who knows about that one) and a scarecrow for his mom

-He is so bad at Jeopardy, like bad enough that Darlin’ changes it when it comes on so they don’t have to listen to his wrong answers

-the “brown….my eyes were brown” quote is a lie according to darlin from the picture they saw. His eyes were a golden color…

#redacted asmr #redacted darlin #redacted sam #redacted headcanons #I’m sorry lol #david shaw #asher talbot

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builtaworldwithyourlove · 4 months

Text

I Forget Where We Were

1.4k/ joel miller x f!reader / MINORS DNI

summary: life with Joel from the start. Be kind please- this is my first piece and has taken 6 months of courage🤍

Chapter Five: She Treats Me Well

Now I’ve got a woman at home, she treats me well

what to expect: Sundays spent with the Millers. Joel officially asks you to be his girlfriend.

warnings: bad language i guess idk?😂fluff, dad!joel,lover boy joel, no specific physical description of reader, female reader (please let me know if there is anything I’m missing, I will elaborate as the series goes on) no outbreak, age gap (reader is mid 20s and Joel is mid 40s), boyfriend!joel? i repeat boyfriend!joel, slight daddy!kink, sooooo much fluff

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

After the best sleep of your life, you woke up intertwined with Joel. He was awake and watching the news on mute on his TV. You snuggled into the crook of his neck, and he dragged you on top of him.

‘Sleep well darlin’?’ his raspy voice turned you into putty, as he tucked your hair behind your ear and flipped you over onto you back.

He kissed you hungrily, before patting your thigh and jumping out of bed.

You whined as you held out your arms for him to join you again, and in the same second, Sarah ran through onto the bed like a tiny hurricane and snuggled into you.

‘I had the funniest dreams’ Sarah giggled. ‘Daddy played dress up with me and we turned him into a princess.’

‘I could just imagine him as pretty as a picture’ you giggled.

You burst into a fit laughter as

Joel wrapped the duvet round his hips and gave a twirl. ‘Now what do the real princesses want for breakfast?’

‘I need to get home and shower, should we head back to mine and we’ll eat there? I’ve got groceries to get through, and I know a certain curly haired baby would love to come and see where I live!’ You tickled Sarah and tilted your head at Joel. Sarah clambered across the bed and held onto Joel like a koala, you leaned forward into Joel’s hip.

‘Let’s get ready to go then Roo’ Roo was Joel’s nickname for Sarah, affectionately after the way she bounced round and round.

You made the bed, and went downstairs to clear the dishwasher and organise Joel’s house quickly.

Dressed in Joel’s joggers that sat low on your hips, and a tucked up gym top, you went to check on Sarah and Joel, and found Sarah in her unicorn backpack and bright pink tutu dress. Joel was dressed smart in black Jeans, a tightly fitting black flannel shirt and his silver watch sitting on his wrist, above his small hand tattoo. His curly hair was slicked back, and you could smell the heat of the hot shower mixed with his mint shower gel and toothpaste, and your favourite aftershave of his.

You stared a moment too long, when Sarah held your hips and shook you asking to go and see your house. Joel placed his fingers under your chin and picked your jaw up.

‘It’s rude to stare’ Joel lowered his voice and remarked gruffly into your ear.

You swallowed dryly, and averted your gaze as you tried to distract yourself by gathering the Miller’s out the house back to your place.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

You let Sarah have full access to your apartment, and she went straight to the flowers growing on your balcony. Joel stood in the french doors, his silhouette distracting you. He sipped his black coffee from your ridiculously oversized pastel pink mug, when he crouched down to let Sarah whisper in his ear. He crouched down and nodded, then looked at you and smiled. He looked back at Sarah ‘Yes I’ll ask her later baby’. You were itching to find out what Sarah whispered, but had a pretty good idea.

You laid breakfast out for everyone, and watched with adoration as your small apartment now felt like home. The idea of having Joel’s babies crept into your mind. What would that be like? Heaven, you thought.

After breakfast was finished, you let Sarah pick her favourite Disney film and hopped in the shower and got ready for the day.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

‘What are we doing today then?’ You entered the room. Sarah was on the balcony with an orange juice, flicking through an old book of yours. You chuckled at her, and Joel turned around and pulled you in. His hands held your hips, and you felt his huge arms envelope you.

‘I want to go to the arcades’ Sarah squealed with her hands in the air.

‘Ask nicely!’ Joel said sternly.

Sarah looked over at you and said please as many times as she could.

‘Arcades it is then, Miss Miller’ Joel agreed, ‘You up for it, darling?’

‘I can’t think of anything else I’d rather do, Mr Miller’you grinned at Sarah.

Joel grunted and gave you ‘that look’.

‘Will you paint my nails for me first’ Sarah asked, bouncing around like a Duracell Bunny.

‘Absolutely baby. I’ll send Daddy on a mission to the store and we’ll finish getting ready’ you asked, emphasis on the eye contact with Joel when you said Daddy.

He clenched his fist and banged it on the counter jokingly, and asked you to write a list. You conspired with Sarah and gave Joel a list:

-Sour Patch Kids

-Milk

-Sourdough Loaf

-Bottle of Rosé

-More Sour Patch Kids

-Reese’s Pieces

-Dr Pepper Zero

He scoffed at the list, and warned against the excessive sugar content. You assured him it’d be a sugar crash by night time, and that’s why you wanted sugar free Dr Pepper- to compensate!

You and Sarah ran to your vanity and Joel went to the store.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

The heat scorched, as you found relief under the air con in the arcades. Sarah had stuffed teddies bigger than her, and your purse was

full of pointless prizes from arcade machines. Joel carried the tokens.

Sarah asked for an ice cream and a final go on the dance machine.

You and Joel sat next to eachother waiting to take Sarah home.

‘Do you still love me?’ Joel nudged you.

‘From the moment I met you’ you squeezed his thigh.

‘Will you be my girlfriend? I’m not sure people ask anymore, but I’ve been waiting for this moment all my life.’ Joel blushed and you kissed him.

‘How could I ever say no?’ You scrunched your nose up and held his hand, ‘I love you, Mr Miller.’

Sarah sprinted over yelling ‘I want to go home.’ You envied the abruptness that kids could get away with. You wouldn’t be able to shout I want to leave in your office job and have people find you funny and endearing.

You all held hands and headed back to the truck.

‘Are you and Daddy having another sleepover tonight?’ Sarah fluttered her eyelashes and didn’t want you to leave.

‘No babygirl, I’ve got to work tomorrow’ it wasn’t clear who was more disappointed at your answer out of Joel and Sarah. They both shared the same gooey puppy dog eyes.

‘How about we go and pick her up from work tomorrow? You can finish school, Daddy will come and get you, and then we’ll head there’ Joel was desperate to keep you all for him and Sarah, and would do anything to be with you every second of every day.

‘You’ve got yourself a deal, Mr Miller. I’ll see you tomorrow night Roo’ you kissed Sarah’s forehead and she twirled around you and climbing into the backseat.

Joel was left listening to the sound of you both softly snoring on the drive home, clearly reaching that sugar crash you talked about.

His heart swelled, and he thanked his lucky stars. Both of his girls.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Joel dropped you home and tried to wake you without making you grouchy. You tried to not be sad and keep in high spirits for Sarah and Joel. Even though you’d see them in less than 24 hours again.

You started your Sunday reset regime, changing your bedsheets, even though they smelt like Joel still and wrote your weekly plan. Although, how productive really was the to do list of : kiss Joel, think about Joel, hug Joel, fuck Joel.

Your phone chimed with a text about an hour later.

Joel:

Sarah’s in bed, finally crashed😴 she said she already misses you and wish you didn’t have to ever leave.

You:

She’s the most precious angel- I miss her too. Big hugs and kisses tomorrow xxx

Joel:

I miss you too. Can’t believe you’ve got this old man head over heels again. I love you, baby.

You:

I love you. Can’t believe I’m a girlfriend, I feel like a changed woman.

Joel:

Get some sleep missy, don’t let the honour get to your head😉

You:

Mr Miller… don’t start something you can’t finish.

Joel:

Oh I’ll finish everytime.

You:

Gross- get gone. Night baby.

You finished your chores and got yourself clean and to bed. You sprawled out, smiling to yourself and sleep came easily.

You wished you were at work already so you could be back in Joel’s arms.

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#joel miller #joel miller x platonic!reader #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #boyfriend!joel #joel miller pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedrito

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