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world0fmadness · 2 months

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ✩ ˚ HEAVENLY ANGEL

toto wolff x vintage fashion! wife! reader x ( platonic! ) oc daughter

featuring: toto being the best husband and reader being hot because you are

faceclaim: assorted but mainly dita von teese

୨୧ sorry i haven’t been making smau’s lately! british summer has been kicking my ass, i’m getting stuff prepared for my birthday and i think i kind of burned myself out by making so many smau’s in so little time lol… have this for now

reading music recommendations: heavenly angel by patience and prudence - you’re the cream to my coffee by annette hanshaw - it’s a lovely day today by jo stafford

loveuyn: yn wolff ln’s new photoshoot featuring pictures of her with vintage mercedes cars!

totoyn: the way my jaw just dropped…

> ynsteponme: literally, i’m so down bad for her

> totoyn: it’s so embarrassing how much i want her 😭

ynscurlers: toto wolff can you fight?

> totoyn: i hope he can’t, i want both of them

ynwolffln ✔️: ah! i adore the vintage car pictures so much, now one of my favourite photoshoots ever 💝

> loveuyn: yn wolff ln, never stop responding to fan accounts please 🥹

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

iluvf1: just saw toto’s eyes turn into hearts like a cartoon character

> totontop: lmao 😭 oh yeah he probably LOVES these car pictures in particular

> ynwolffln ✔️: you’re correct! he’s a big fan of the vintage mercedes shots in particular 😉

ynsteponme: still can’t get over the fact that this woman has a child… AND WITH SOME F1 MANAGER GUY 💔 kidding, her and toto are cute… i guess

> totontop: “ some f1 manager guy ” i can’t 😭

totoyn: throwback to this yn wolff ln photo shoot

loveuyn: this photoshoot changed lives you guys…

ynsteponme: yn wolff ln run me over, beat me with a bat, set me on fire, please just do anything to me i really don’t care

> iluvf1: you guys RELAX she’s someone’s mother 😭

> ynsteponme: she’s someone’s MILF

ynwolffln ✔️: oh i love these pictures! it’s been a while since i’ve seen these

ynscurlers: TOTO WOLFF CAN YOU FIGHT?

oldf1lvr: okay yes this photoshoot is super overly hot but i’m more impressed by her hair 😭 it’s always so damn perfect!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynscurlers: watch yn’s vogue video! she shows off how she gets her hair like that all the time

> totoyn: not to mention the toto cameo is ADORABLE 💔

> totontop: him gently helping her take her curlers out at the back… there’s so many cute toto moments in that video 🥹

ynscurlers: never beating the hottest wag allegations… toto wolff watch your back fr…

totontop: thinking about the time toto posted this picture of yn to the official mercedes account and it was just a post of him fawning over his wife with “ - toto ” at the end

loveuyn: like yes toto, we knew it was you 😭

> iluvf1: he’s so obsessed with her i love it 🥹

ynsteponme: i absolutely love how yn goes from the really hot milf to someone that looks like they give amazing hugs and just wants to smother their husband and child with love

iluvf1: lewis commenting “ who is this beautiful woman? ” and toto commenting back “ that’s my wife, lewis… ” 😭 like lewis didn’t know lmao

> oldf1lvr: and george’s “ mate… please make your own account, can’t stand this lovely dovey stuff ( joking, of course, don’t fire me ) ” comment

ynwolffln: happy anniversary to my beloved husband 💞 the best husband i could ever ask for and the most wonderful father! you’re my necessity, i’d be lost without you 💕

georgerussell ✔️: happy anniversary yn and toto! i still remember the taste of that cake… so good

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: i’m glad you liked the cake so much george, i’ll have to bake you some for yourself one day

❤️ liked by georgerussell and lewishamilton

> georgerussell ✔️: please do… no bakery comes close to you mrs wolff!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln and lewishamilton

> lewishamilton ✔️: me as well please yn!

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: sounds like me and little miss marilyn have a lot of baking to do 🥰

❤️ liked by mercedes, georgerussell and lewishamilton

lewishamilton ✔️: happy anniversary you two! beautiful wedding and a beautiful bride

> iluvf1: lewis still playing into the beautiful woman joke after all this time 😭

> oldf1lvr: i love him

> ynwolffln ✔️: thank you very much lewis! marilyn sends kisses to her favourite uncle 💓

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> georgerussell ✔️: hold on a minute… favourite uncle? lewis? get a grip!

❤️ ynwolffln

> lewishamilton ✔️: sorry mate! but it is i who has the cute dog

loveuyn: omg… marilyn’s little bow 🥹

> ynsteponme: so so so cute 💔

mercedes ✔️: my beautiful wife and the best mother to our gorgeous little girl ❤️ happy anniversary honey - toto

❤️ liked by ynwolffln

> ynwolffln ✔️: we really need to get you your own account love 💖

> totontop: lmao even yn is trying to get him to make an account 😭

ynsteponme: she really had the dream wedding for us vintage girlies 🥹

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨୧ ˚ NEW ADDED BONUS ˚ ୨୧ ⋆｡˚ ⋆

toto loves his honey and little miss marilyn

#toto wolff x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smau

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totalswag · 5 months

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tell me if you like it — RAFE CAMERON

authors note HIGHLY recommend you listen to me & you by cassie remix because it gives me total rafe vibes. i'm so close to 800 lovies, i adore you all. i switched my style with line dividers and i'm probably gonna stick with it for now on.

summary you've had your eyes on rafe cameron for sometime now and everyone knows your attraction towards him. you attend one of his parties one friday night with your girlfriends and make your official move on the kook king.

warnings drinking, smoking, alcohol, drugs, partying, kissing/making out, mentions of sex,

Rafe Cameron sent out a text about throwing a party at his place while Ward and Rose are out of town for the weekend. The minute word got out people were talking about the party.

You knew the instant after receiving the text that tonight would be the night you made your official move on Rafe Cameron. Everyone, including Cameron, knows you've had your eye on him for a while.

Rafe is waiting for you to make your final move, according to Topper and Kelce. To you, he appears to be playing a game, a waiting game. So you've been playing the game he prefers.

You’ve always wondered why Rafe himself hasn’t made his move on you yet. The thought runs through your mind occasionally.

The party was full when you arrived. People were drunk, smoking weed, doing other drugs, dancing, and who knows what else.

You came in with your head held high, scanning the crowd for your friend group, but first you needed a drink.

You walked into the kitchen, which was stocked with various types of alcohol. You are craving seltzer, so you grabbed a truly from the fridge. You went on a search for your friends after closing the frigid.

Your name was called from the corner of the house by the girls. When you saw them wave you over, you turned in their direction. When they saw you approaching, their mouths dropped open.

"I must say Y/N, you look so hot!" Ella, one of your best friends, says she's hyping you up by gazing at you up and down.

"If Rafe doesn't get you tonight, he's definitely going to miss out," Melina says, resting against the wall.

The other girls agreed with Melina and Ella's comments.

"You two are really kind. Plus, y'all look so good I might melt" you compliment them back.

"I'll be making my final move on him; I just need to find him first," you say with a nice smile, gazing over your shoulder for Cameron boy.

"Dude we saw him earlier walking out back to smoke a blunt with Kelce but haven't seen him since" Ella informs you.

Thirty minutes go by, you four are dancing together to the beat of the music. Laughing and drinking together while listening to music that keeps you dancing.

For the past five minutes you can feel eyes on you the entire time you’ve been dancing with the girls. You lift your head up slowly, Rafe is standing with a group of his friends.

You’ve been waiting so long, I’m here to answer your call.

I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting at all.

You two lock eyes. No one is breaking it.

He's dressed in a white tee, black cargo pants, a gold chain around his neck, and a snapback. Oh, that gold chain.

As you continue to dance to the beat of the song, tension builds in your body. Knowing Rafe is watching gives you excitement. You look over your shoulder, he's looking at you amongst the crowd of people.

You tell the girls as you pull away you are gonna have a little chat with Rafe for a moment but knowing that will be a for a while.

When Rafe sees you getting closer, he feels his body tense up. More so with excitement.

“Hey Rafe,” you smiled nicely, giving him a hug, running your hand down his arm.

He wraps his arm around you, “hey Y/N” Rafe says, looking down at you softly, “How are you enjoying the party?” He asks before taking a sip of his drink in his free hand.

“Yeah, I am. My friends and I have been having a great time” You say, trying to play it off you are about to make your final move.

Throughout the conversation, you keep eye contact, something you've always done with people. Conversation was casual yet with a hint of flirtatious moments.

Rafe's body communicates that he is attempting to maintain his calm. You tilt your head slightly, a smile spreading across your face.

"If you girls need anything I'll be around the house," he lets you know, moving his hand in a circling motion.

Your thinking tells you to say something that will catch him off guard.

Slowly nodding, stepping on your tiptoes, placing your free hand around Rafe's neck and dragging him to your height, "What if I need something from you?" Your voice sounded enticing, as you pull away.

Your gaze lands on the gold chain. Playing with it, twisting it with your index finger.

Rafe's lip slides against his bottom lip, forming into a smirk. He knows what you are doing to him. He likes it.

I know I shouldn't have you waiting at all.

I've been so busy, but I've been thinking about you.

What I wanna do to you.

"Oh really, what would that be? enlighten me,"

Oh he's really good you think to yourself.

"I think you know what I mean, Rafe."

"I don't think I do, Y/N," mocking your tone.

In your mind, you want to go and see what he does, or you want to stay by his side for the rest of the night and sleep in his sheets. It can go either way, but you'll most likely be in his sheets, or not.

You finally inform Rafe that you'll be getting back to your girlfriends, who are waiting for you someplace in the home. The look on his face indicated that he did not want you to leave him.

He leans nearer and places his hand on your wrist, "No, don't leave right now. Can I give you a tour of the the house?" He suggested.

You give him a questionable look as if you were debating it.

"Vip access for special people,"

Jack pot.

"I would love that."

The rest of the night, you stayed at Rafe's side. You had him hooked around your finger and it only took you a few words out your mouth. The expressions on your girls' faces were wonderful; they were secretly cheering you on across the room. Of course, they kept a close eye on you while enjoying themselves.

When Rafe took you around the house, he made sure you had the best tour of your life. You could not believe how large the house was. He showed you his room last, which was maintained clean and tidy. His tv is on the wall below his dresser. The smell of cologne flooded your lungs and smelled pleasant.

After, you two took a few shots, smoked a joint, played drinking games, danced, and made out.

You now have your back against Rafe's chest, and his hand is around your waist, holding you close. You'll occasionally move your hips to the side to the beat of the song, causing him to pull you closer.

Everyone has taken to the dance floor in the huge living room. You both circle all of Rafe's buddies. You've met them many times before. Your girlfriends were a few feet away.

Rafe's hand was gliding itself up and down your waist then your ass giving it a couple squeezes.

You turn around and place both hands on his lower the abdomen. You looked at each other with lust and desperation. You examine his lips first, contemplating whether you should kiss him first. You do.

Lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting for dominance. The feeling felt electric. Your body was craving him more and more.

"I think it's time I gave me another good tour, but this time in my bedroom," he breathlessly mumble in your ear, eager.

You groan from his words, nodding.

The way he spoke those words to you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Excitement in your lower stomach started jumping.

Before you head upstairs, Rafe wraps his arm around Topper's shoulder, whispers in his ear, "Make sure you get these people out of here in an hour, then you can either stay here or go home." Topper nods and pats his shoulder.

You couldn't take your hands off each other on the way up to his bedroom; laughing, touching, and kissing.

"You look so beautiful tonight, couldn't take my eyes off you," he says as he lays you on his soft sheets, runs his hands down your sides, and admires your physique.

The words coming out Rafe's mouth made your cheeks grow red. You watch Rafe's eyes scan your body before he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your body.

You feel yourself grow impatient, Rafe senses it, he smirks.

"Don't worry, angel, we're just getting started," he said, dropping his head, kissing your stomach, and moving closer to your underwear line.

Your hands slide through his hair, gently pulling, eliciting a gasp from Rafe's lips. You smirk at yourself.

Pulls your skirt down and throws your underwear across the room before bringing itching closer to your core. Chills run down your spine, and you breathe heavily as Rafe's breath fans on your bare core.

The sexual tension grows stronger. Rest of your night consisted of the both of your moans filling the bedroom.

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valiantverses · 2 months

Text

Tremors

Ghoap X Reader

Summary: A therapist's waiting room wasn't exactly the place to have the most engrossing conversations. People were usually jittery, tense, or straight-up despondent. Somehow, you manage to strike a strange sort of connection with the retired military couple that had the Thursday slot just after you anyway.

Trigger Warning: Angsty. Discussions of Soap's injuries, the reader has mental health struggles and everyone has communication difficulties to some degree.

A/N: Scuttling out of the woodwork after having a pain flare, a breakdown, a career shift and getting some life altering surgery. Here's a new series while I rework all my previous writing!

Comments, questions, requests and constructive criticisms are welcome. Hate is boring and will go unacknowledged.

Maybe therapy wasn't for you.

Baring your soul to a total stranger and unearthing your life to be scrutinised by somebody. Then having that somebody turn around and drop you as a client because you were 'beyond their scope' and recommending you to someone else. It left an acrid sort of burn at the back of your throat as you settled into the sofa in the cheery waiting room of your hastily found counsellor.

Tick.

The leather underneath your fingers was squeaky. Static-y. The kind of leather where the grooves of the well-worn parts of the couch were buttery smooth and a slightly darker shade of black until it reached the bits that weren't quite as worn.

Tock.

The sound of papers shuffling and a low voice calling out a name drew your attention. It wasn't yours. Wordlessly, you watched a woman to your left stand up. The rubber of her cane cracked across the linoleum as she she signed her name on to the clip board at the desk, murmured her greetings to the therapist and made her way inside, the door shutting with a soft click.

Tick.

St. Jude-Thaddeus Hospital's Rehabilitation and Pain Management Clinic had the honour of being the only facility of any sort in your area that offered psycotherapy services. Affordable ones, anyway. Something to do with being integrated into the Ministry of Defense Hospital Units for disabled veterans- but you didn't need to know, so you didn't ask.

You'd take what you could get.

Tock.

You glance up at the clock once more, seeing that you were now close to 10 minutes to your first ever appointment with this therapist. A part of you wanted to fast forward the next 40 minutes of your day. Maybe the next few hours. Get to the point where your obligations were done and the first meeting was over and done with.

Tick.

When the door opens next, you don't look up this time. You try to contain the shake of your hands and focus on that squeaky leather underneath you. The thumps of footsteps don't register before the slight sink of the couch does. When you glance up, it is to the bluest eyes you could imagine.

He was handsome, a part of your brain helpfully informed you. Dark eyelashes framing a sort of azure blue, shards of indigo flecked about like sleet in the rain. His tanned skin had that slight leatheriness that could only come from working under the sun, the hand jutted out towards you littered with callouses-

"-hnny MacTavish, haven't seen you round here before."

Your hand moves mechanically to accept his handshake, mouth producing syllables you knew was supposed to be your name.

Realising the beat of conversation had stretched on longer than it should and it was now your turn to fulfill your part of the social contract that the stranger had looped you into, you broke eye contact and glanced back down at the worn linoleum.

"It's my first time."

There was a snort to the other side of you, from a bulky man sat diagonally from the line of chairs you and Johnny were sat in.

You quickly ammend your statement "-with this therapist. Just moved in."

His bulk seemed to carve away the space of the room, hulking shoulders leading to a thickly corded neck, lower face covered in a black face mask and his eyes a thin ring of deep ocean blue. What little skin you could see of his face looked sallow. Drained.

"Ignore tha' git. Insists on tagging along with me like I'm a wee wain and wreaks havoc of all sorts." The voice from your left supplied as you quickly began reassessing the relationship between the two strangers you found yourself in the middle of.

"You two know each other?"

There was a rumble to your left, a deep bass-y sound you realised was laughter. "Could say that, ma'am. "

"My partner," Johnny supplied, eyeroll evident in his voice as you turned to look at him once more. It was a little overwhelming having to keep turning your head to and fro because of the way the chairs were positioned, and your fingers dug into the leather once more.

Slippery, smooth. Pebbled with some long indentations.

"That's Simon. We've been at this shrink for give or take four months now-"

"Fifteen weeks."

"*-would'a noticed a bonnie lass like you on our weekly, enlightening visits." His quip was cheery, but there was an element of sarcasm you couldn't quite place.

This conversation felt like navigating a field full of landmines. Couldn't ask about his condition, why the weekly visits rather than the gold standard (That is, the national healthcare coverage) of every two weeks, why fifteen weeks- so you asked the only thing you felt you could.

"She any good? The counselor, I mean."

Johnny blinked, head tilting and making eye contact with his partner - Simon - there was a flash of something twisting across his face as the wordless conversation happened in a split second.

It was fascinating. The sort of communication that only happened when two people had an intimate well of knowledge of the other person.

Then dawn broke across Johnny's face and he turned back to you with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Aye, lass. Not afraid to crack into your brain and really dig around. Well good laugh too, great to interact with given I've really only spoken to four people or so since I retired an' all."

You tried not to read between the lines. Tried not to stare at the way he leaned back to rub at the jagged line across his scalp, the puckered edges evident under the peach fuzz of dark hair. He was giving you what he could without dragging a stranger into his own vortex of struggles. You could relate.

"Retired? From military service?"

Regret looked different on people's faces. For some, there was a grimace. Maybe a slight widening of the eyes in realisation, or a hitch in their breath. Self-reproach for bringing it up in the first place. For Johnny, it appeared to be a slight furrowing of his brows and a darkening of his sky blue eyes as he edged backwards.

A cough and the scraping of the chair behind you drew your attention, looking to your right to meet the cold stare of the blond. Briefly, you felt like a cornered animal. Your hands grew still. His gaze was assessing, stony face giving nothing away except the overwhelming vibe of back the fuck off. His eyes flicked over your shoulder and then back to yours.

"Sounds like they're finishing up in there. You should sign in."

It appeared you had clambered out of the field of land mines only to immediately fall into a sinkhole.

Stuttering your goodbyes, you make to stand up, making the same trek the young lady had towards the desk. You fought to control the tremors of your hands. One stayed tucked deeply in a pocket as the other wrote your name down through sheer muscle memory. Sure enough, the door opened and the woman walked out with her mobility aid, a cheery voice calling out your name from inside.

As your shaky palm took hold of the doorknob to twist it so you could enter the room, you caught snippets of the conversation happening behind you.

"Bothering you-"

"-Ost, It would have been fine-"

"Your hands were shaking again-"

"Ach- I had it under control!"

"You don't owe strangers anything. Not after everything you've-"

"Please- I just- I need to have a feckin' conversation about it without breaking down-"

The door shut with a click.

As you sat down in front of your new therapist, you resolved to try and move your appointments to a different day.

#ghost x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #COD Fic

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reallyromealone · 1 year

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I think this is it.

Aight, thank you. Here's my request: So Pro-hero Bakugou has a husband (reader) and a son who didn't inherit his quirk. Instead, he got m readers' "weak" healing quirk. The kid hates/dislikes reader for getting his "useless" quirk instead. Meek reader doesn't want tell Bakugou that the son has a crappy teen ego, but Bakugou comes home early to see son berating reader. And Bakugo just scolds the son and explains why the the healing quirk is useful and how reader is amazing. Its a bit angsty, but can we have some fluff comfort at the end pls? Thank you again. :)

I got this

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

One thing no one in U.A expected was for Bakugo to get with Recovery girls grandson, the Omegas quirk being "healing aura" the ability to create a healing must up to 12 feet.

The two teens didn't get along initially, Bakugo crass and rude and (name) very much no nonsense and stubborn, the two constantly butted heads during their stay at U.A.

It was a surprise towards the end of their high school career for the two to move in together with an upcoming engagement "when did they even start dating?" Some would ask only to realize those arguments and comments were actually the two flirting.

(Name) ended up much like his grandmother and travelling agency to agency and helping out post villain attacks and doing what he could, gaining adoration and fans through how much he helped.

They almost forgot he was an Omega till he went on maternity leave.

(Sons name) was very much like Katsuki, a spitfire who had many little options and though Katsuki calmed down considerably there was no denying they were practically clones.

And because of this, it devastated (sons name) when he didn't get his sires "heroic" quirk but instead got (name)s quirk, the boy over time developing a resentment to his Dam.

Due to (name) only being called for emergencies, he ended up taking his late grandmother's place at U.As Medical wing.

And because of these hours, he was often left to care for his son alone while Katsuki did hero work, and because of this missed his son developing into a mythic asshole.

(Name) was exhausted after work, needing to use his quirk a lot today along with quirkless medical practice as many students didn't need his quirk but a simple bandage and such.

The house was a mess, whenever (sons name) came home he always made a mess, deeming it "Omega work" as the teen scrolled his phone "arent you supposed to be studying for the written exam?"

"Why should I? Dad got me in on recommendation, thank god since all you gave me was a shitty quirk" the teen snapped and (name) looked absolutely heartbroken at this as the teen continued "thank god dad's been teaching me martial arts since it's so useless-- seriously why did I have to get stuck with something as useless as your quirk, I'm amazed dad settled for someone as useless as you"

"The fuck you say?" The two turned to see Katsuki Bakugo walk in, out of uniform after finishing work at his agency "d-dad..." (sons name) looked sick and (name) on the verge of tears "your dad's "useless quirk" literally saved countless lives and your dad hauled ass saving countless People from villains" his voice cold as he dropped his duffle bag "why's the house a mess? You not fucking helping your Dam? I know he just got home so I know this ain't his mess" he laughed without any humor "disrespectful little shit, get up and clean this mess, after we train and get ready because it's gonna be hell" Katsuki promised coldly and the teen got up not wanting to piss off his dad more as the pro led (name) to their room.

"How long?" He said pulling the exhausted Omega into his lap, only soft for his mate "honestly since he found out his quirk, it's just been coming out the past few months..." Katsuki was shocked at this, how did he miss this?! "Why didn't you say anything?"

"... You were busy... You were working so hard on building your agency and I wanted to lift some weight off your shoulders" he wanted to cry as his husband held him close "stop being stupid" his voice loving despite the harsh words "I'll whip I'm straight, rely on me idiot"

(Name) was left to relax in the bedroom as Bakugo handled his son, calling a few hero friends to help especially the teens uncle Izuku and uncle Aizawa-- the teen spending his break at his uncle Aizawas and subsequently with uncle Shinsou who was visiting.

By the written exam he was kicked into shape and Bakugo made sure his mate was reminded over and over again how loved he was.

#omega male reader #omegaverse #male reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #mha x male reader #mha x reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bakugo katsuki x male reader #bakugo x male reader

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luvhughes43 · 8 months

Text

instagram follows | jamie drysdale

[luvhughes43 masterlist🌷]

request: reader and jamie have been in a relationship for maybe 5 or 6 months and reader hasn’t said anything but the girls Jamie follows on instagram really bother her. she doesn’t want to seem controlling because of her past relationships but she is trying to find a way to bring it up to him. so one day she is feeling a little more insecure and Jamie is trying to figure out what’s wrong and she finally snaps and tells him. like she would say “you haven’t unfollowed any girls on the gram since we started dating and it makes me feel horrible about myself”

word count: 1.1k

you knew it was an awful idea even before you decided to scroll through your boyfriends instagram following. it was a bad idea for multiple reasons actually - mainly your own body image issues. however, you had seen what seemed like all the tiktoks in existence about men and their instagram usage pre and post relationship. also, it didn’t help that you kept getting recommended videos of girls' devastating reactions to scrolling through their favourite hockey players following.

when you first clicked on jamies following list, you thought it wouldn't have been so bad.

Blondes.

Boobs.

Brunettes.

Canadian University Girls?

you went into a completely unwarranted deep dive because really, jamie had never given you any reasons to doubt his faithfulness and yet… you were a half-tub deep into your litre of mint chocolate ice cream with grey’s anatomy playing distractedly in the background.

with jamie gone on a roadie, you had time to push all of your feelings of distrust and discomfort to the back of your mind. you had been in this position before, and with yours and jamies relationship so fresh you didn’t want to say anything. last time you had brought your insecurities up with your ex boyfriend, you had been yelled at and called controlling - which you would rather not relive. even though jamie was much nicer than your ex, you were still having trouble trying to find a way to safely bring the topic up, so you dropped it.

a week later and jamie had gotten back from his trip, completely exhausted but wanting to spend time with you nonetheless, you had tried your best to forget all about his following list.

“how’s my girl been?” jamie smiles at you sweetly before wrapping you into a hug. the two of you rock back and forth for a moment.

“oh you know… the usual,” you shrug, silently loving the glint in jamie’s eyes. he was so pretty.

jamie brings you back into another hug and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “oh i forgot, trevor wants to know if we’ll go out with him tonight,”

“go out where?”

“some new restaurant downtown,” jamie shrugs carelessly as all men do. “do you wanna go?”

you think about it for a moment, did you really want to go out with trevor? ultimately though, you decide that going out would be the perfect distraction you needed. plus, the extra time with your boyfriend might help reassure yourself about your relationship.

wrong. three hours later you were dressed, ready, and sat uncomfortably between your boyfriend and his best friend. their friends sat across from you, all of whom were single and making comments on all the girls that walked past your table. their comments weren’t out of the ordinary, but you couldn’t help but wonder if jamie felt the same way as his friends. if like his following suggested - he liked appreciating other girls more than he let on.

“now she’s hot”

“you should go ask her for her number! look at her ass,”

“i think i just saw a goddess…”

“i’d let her dog walk me,”

with each comment you shrunk into yourself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of your body and your outfit choice. jamie was quick to notice of course, leaning into you and whispering, “are you okay?”

when you nodded your head in response, jamie only frowned.

when everyone’s food arrives and you were still acting off, jamie questions you again, “no seriously… what’s wrong?”

you smooth the sleeves of your top, “i don’t want to get into it here,”

“what?”

“jamie, please just drop it”

things were tense between the two of you for the rest of the night and instead of trying to work through things, you simply order another drink at the restaurant. by the time jamie drops you off at your apartment you were tipsy.

“can you tell me what’s wrong now?” were the first words out of jamie’s mouth when you locked the door behind him.

“no,” you respond quickly.

jamie was rightfully confused. “yn…”

you pretend you don’t hear him. “do you want something to drink?”

“no! I want you to tell me what's wrong with you!” jamie was clearly frustrated and tired of your refusal to talk.

you whip around towards him - still tipsy and upset. “you want to know what's bothering me?” you start, to which jamie nods enthusiastically. “you’re bothering me!”

“what did i do…?”

he was so oblivious sometimes. “i know i shouldn't have looked through your instagram followings but i can't unsee what i saw! all the girls…. i feel sick about myself,”

jamie tries to speak but you interrupt him, “and i don’t want to be controlling and force you to unfollow them but… i just feel so awful and ugly and like… you have so many options out there that you’re probably interested in and-”

“okay wait,” jamie finally interjects. he inches closer to you, his mind still reeling from how fast you were speaking. “first of all, i don’t look at other girls,” you scoff but jamie keeps talking. “and if my following was upsetting you, you could've just told me instead of bottling up your feelings and getting upset with me”

“i use instagram like, once a year and i honestly don't look at my following list it’s from so long ago. so, if you want me to unfollow the people that make you uncomfortable than i one hundred percent will” jamie continues, stepping closer to you and grabbing ahold of your hands.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, sad and confused all at once. you hadn’t meant to blow up all at once, but your past relationships would have never been this kind to you and so you were unsure of how to react. you were almost positive that you were being controlling and you suddenly felt sick. “i didn’t mean it-”

“yes you did,” jamie’s voice is soft now, his hands comfortingly trailing patterns up and down your arms. “and by the way, i think you're the most beautiful girl that i’ve ever laid eyes on. i’m sorry for making you feel bad. i don’t want anybody else,”

“i don’t want anybody else either,” you breathe a sigh of relief and wrap your arms around your boyfriend.

the next time you check instagram is when you get a notification that your boyfriend had posted a picture “for the first time in awhile”. the pictures are sweet shots of the two of you, taken by trevor whose presence you can never evade. you get curious again though, clicking on your boyfriends profile only to see that his following had significantly decreased.

#jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale fic #trevor zegras x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic

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pricelessemotion · 1 year

Text

Never really over | S.H.

summary: [4.2k] you and steve fall apart, then fall back together.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: so much angst, best friends to exes to lovers, language, gratuitous taylor swift references

a/n: exes to lovers is one of my fave tropes so i hope i did it justice! reader is vaguely asian-coded by accident (though there shouldn’t be any direct references to r's appearance!) lmao happy AAPI heritage month to all my fellow asians

masterlist

The day after your breakup, Steve shows up at your house with a bag of takeout and a six-pack. He kicks off his shoes at the front door while you’re in the kitchen, already grabbing napkins and chopsticks. The light on the floral rice cooker on the counter just turned from cooking to keep warm. Steve is nothing, if not right on time.

To most people, the situation would seem peculiar. But you and Steve were best friends before your break up and you had promised that you would stay best friends after it.

You settle in on opposite sides of the worn-down loveseat, a rerun of Golden Girls playing on the television. You’re just about to ask him if he remembered to get extra sauce for the chow mein when Steve, seemingly anticipating your question, silently hands you a small cylindrical container.

The night goes on as it usually would, with Steve lamenting Keith’s tyranny and Dustin’s antics. He helps you clean up when you’re done, scooping the leftover rice into a Tupperware container saying I gotta get myself one of these, it’s so convenient! He even does the dishes, washing while you dry, never commenting on the fact that you have a perfectly good dishwasher that you never use.

Once he’s standing in the entryway, shoes back on and keys in hand, he instinctively leans in for a chaste kiss goodbye.

You flinch, turning your cheek at the last second. The moment becomes a sobering reminder as to why you decided to break up in the first place. Instinct over time starts to feel like routine. Routine over time starts to feel like a chore. Another thing that you have to cross off your to-do list.

For a while, it was grounding. It felt good to be normal. Normal felt like warmth, like coming in out of the freezing cold and cozying up next to a blazing fire. But you knew from experience that the cold always comes back. As the days drew darker, the once roaring hearth settled into a pile of ashes. Being grounded can feel like being tied down. It’s only natural to want to break free.

You didn’t realize freedom would feel like this.

“Right.” Steve huffs out awkwardly, swinging his car keys around his index finger. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He shuffles out the door while you offer a weak goodbye. You know you’re letting the cold in by watching him as he gets into his car. You do it anyway.

–

Steve and Dustin have taken to visiting you while you’re on shift at the coffee shop. You’re not sure why. The arcade next door seems much more fitted to their shared interests, but they still come and visit you all the same. Usually, when you come upon them, they’re standing on the other side of the till having a whispered conversation that dies the moment they notice you’re there.

“A latte for me, and hot cocoa for the kid.” Steve says, ruffling the younger boy's hair.

“I’m fourteen!”

“Oh, I’m sorry Mr. Maturity. Did you want a coffee? I’m sure our girl over here has some great recommendations.”

Dustin only grumbles in response, muttering insults under his breath. Steve refuses your offer to comp their drinks, paying and dropping his change in the tip jar.

You set both drinks down on the counter when they’re done. One is a simple steaming cup. The other is piled high with whipped cream and sprinkles, decorated with a tiny plastic snowman left over from the holidays.

“Thank you,” Steve says, leaning against the counter. “Y’know, you’re my most favorite barista in the whole world.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m the only barista you know, but you’re welcome.”

“So, would you be interested in movie night tomorrow?”

“Wow, let me think.” You feign contemplation, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I’ll have to check my schedule. I have a meeting with some venture capitalists but I might be able to squeeze you in.”

“It’s a date.”

“So… you guys are back together?” Dustin darts a confused glance between the both of you, his irises going back and forth as if watching a ping-pong match.

“No!” You and Steve both blurt out at the same time. Then you both take a moment to look at each other as if to say, I know why I said no but why are you saying no?

Is it really over?

Dustin, as observant and tactless as ever, gives off a little shrug. You mutter something about needing to go to the back to do inventory. As you’re walking away, you hear Steve say something that sounds a lot like Nice going, doofus!

–

Dustin answers the door when you ring the bell. Steve’s house has the usual suspects for movie night. Max and El are cuddled up together on the floor, practically laying on top of each other. Robin and Nancy are on the loveseat to the left, so wrapped up in each other that they barely even register your arrival. You presume that the sounds coming from the kitchen are Mike, Will, and Lucas, no doubt making one too many bowls of popcorn in the microwave.

Steve is sitting, his arm draped over the back of the couch. Before, there would’ve been no questions as to where you would sit. The empty couch cushion practically had your name on it. You would’ve already bounded across the room and snuggled up to the boy that felt like home.

You search the room for another option, but come up empty. Unless you want to pointedly avoid sitting next to him by crashing on the floor with the kids, which would undoubtedly draw attention to the very thing you want to ignore.

Taking a seat next to Steve, you toe the line between platonic distance and romantic distance.

“What’s on tonight?” You ask no one in particular.

“The Princess Bride.” Lucas replies, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of fresh popcorn.

He barely gets a chance to put it down before the three other boys tumble onto the floor and begin shoveling the savory snack into their mouths. Max and El whine about their lack of civility, yelling at them for having spilled popcorn on the floor before the movie has even started.

“Ah, that’s my favorite!”

“I know.” Steve finally speaks up beside you.

“We’ve only seen it like a million times.” Max says, rolling her eyes and resting her head on El’s shoulder.

“Hey! Little shits who eat my food and use me as a taxi service don’t get to complain about my movie choices.”

“Whatever, Steve.” The redhead remarks, with an unmistakable fondness in her voice.

You settle into your seat. The January cold has seeped into the house and, despite the heating being on full blast, you’re freezing. Steve notices, tugging the comforter in his lap over your frame, enveloping you in a warmth you didn’t realize you missed so much. You murmur a quiet thank you that you’re almost sure goes unheard until he turns, giving you a small smile before returning his attention to the screen.

In order to properly share the blanket, you have to scoot in even closer. You tell yourself that it’s a perfectly reasonable platonic distance, that you used to do this all the time before you were dating. If Steve is experiencing even a fraction of your inner turmoil, he doesn’t show it. He just keeps looking ahead, paying far too much attention to the film. The palm that would usually come to rest upon your shoulder stays gripping the back of the couch.

Sometime after Buttercup and Wesley enter the forbidden forest, you fall asleep.

It’s hard to make out anything through the dense fog. The trees around you loom large, foliage so lush and thick that it blocks out the sky, making it unclear if it’s day or night. The only light source comes from an oil lamp.

The lamp casts a shadow over the face of the person holding it, emphasizing his strong brow and straight nose. You go to move toward Steve, but you can’t. You’re stuck. Ankle deep in sand, coarse and with the consistency of molasses, that slowly creeps up higher and higher. It takes you a moment to realize; the sand isn’t getting higher, you’re getting lower.

You’re sinking.

Desperately, you begin grasping at anything and everything that might get you out. It’s futile. The more you move, the further you fall. You’re waist-deep now. Steve is still standing there, stone-faced, oil lamp flickering. He turns, walking into the fog and taking the light with him.

You open your mouth, wanting to scream. Needing to scream. But only one word echoes throughout. It does nothing to stop Steve’s retreating figure.

Stay.

“Hey,” Steve is tugging on the sleeve of your sweater. “Wake up.”

The fog dissipates. Feeling slowly returns to your limbs. The first thing you realize is that you fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder. The second thing you realize is that, due to your impromptu nap, the distance between the two of you is practically nonexistent. You recoil, sliding yourself as far away from him as you can. Steve flinches at the sudden movement.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft and comforting, like a childhood blanket that you can’t sleep without. “It seemed like you were having a bad dream.”

You blink your eyes furiously, trying to shake the sinking feeling that has settled deep into your stomach.

“Where is everyone?” You ask, avoiding his question. The once lively living room is now empty. Remnants of movie night surround you in the form of stray pieces of popcorn and a nearly empty tub of Red Vines.

“They all went home about twenty minutes ago.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You seemed so comfortable. I didn’t wanna wake you.” He shrugs, saying the next words gently. “Are you having nightmares again?”

Before, you would tell him yes. You always talked to Steve about your nightmares. Most of the time he was there to witness them firsthand, waking up to your shouting and thrashing. Some nights, he would be able to coax you back to sleep with soothing words and tender touches. Other nights, he would stay up with you for hours, talking about nothing. The next day, the deep bags etched under his eyes would serve as another reminder of just how tiring you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wipe the corner of your mouth, cringing at the slight dampness you find there. Great. Not only did you fall asleep on Steve but you also drooled on him. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Leaping from the couch, you get to the foyer in record time. Your shoes are already halfway on before Steve appears, standing in between you and the door.

“You don’t have to. You know the guest room is always made up for you if you want it.” He bargains.

“I— I have to go. I’m sorry. Goodnight Steve.”

“Please, you’re tired. At least let me drive you.” He’s practically pleading, already moving to grab his car keys.

“Just let me go, Steve!” Your outburst echoes throughout the empty house.

Steve takes a step back away from you. “I’m sorry.”

Regret washes over you like a tidal wave. You can feel yourself being ripped under the current. You curse yourself, not for drowning, but for dragging Steve down with you.

“No, don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry. I just—”

“Have to go?” He supplies.

He sounds dejected like this is another battle with you that he’s already resigned himself to losing. You fumble through another apology, another goodbye.

You don’t dare to look behind you as you make your way to your car. It isn’t until you’re halfway down your street that you spare a glance at your rear-view mirror. Steve is still standing there, the door wide open.

You don’t know why you keep having dreams where you ask Steve to stay.

You’re the one who is always leaving.

—

“She was totally flirting with you!” You scream whisper, keeping in mind that the diner is mostly empty aside from the loyal patrons that come in every weekday for a hearty serving of beef and potatoes.

Steve showed up to the coffee shop today, sans Dustin, asking if you’d like to grab a bite to eat after your shift. You obliged, hoping to make up for your outburst from the other night. He still hasn’t mentioned it. For your sake, you hope that he won’t.

“No, she wasn’t.” You thought Steve’s obliviousness when it came to romance only extended to you. Apparently, you were wrong because he was completely ignoring the way that the waitress was batting her eyelashes at him.

“Yes, she was!” You take a fry from the basket and Steve pushes his strawberry milkshake toward you, already knowing that you were going to subject him to the gross combination and he might as well get it over with. “Y’know, if you wanted to ask her out you could. Don’t let me hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back. Anyways, isn’t it weird, having your ex-girlfriend be your wingman?”

“I’m still your best friend. Besides, you totally helped me out with Brandon so I just thought I’d return the favor.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, causing you to furrow your brow at him. Despite having loved him for a long time and having known him for even longer, his inability to read a room knows no bounds.

“Last week at Family Video?” You utter the words with slow precision, but recognition fails to make its way across Steve’s face. “Brandon Clayborn asked you for horror movie recommendations and you sent him to me.”

“And he asked you out?” Steve gapes at you from over the rim of his milkshake. The idea of grabbing the glass and slogging the pink confection at him crosses your mind, but instead, you clench your fists at your side.

“Is that so unbelievable?” At your response, Steve’s brows pinch together. He toys with the wrapping paper of his straw, folding it over and over again.

“And what did you say?”

“I said yes.”

“Oh.” Steve finally stops fiddling with the piece of paper. It’s shredded to pieces in a pile in front of him. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the bulging leather wallet. “I’ll be right back.”

With that, Steve slides out of the booth and walks up to the counter. The giggles of the waitress can be heard throughout the diner. You turn toward the window so that you don’t have to see her scrawl her number on the receipt, and you catch your muddled reflection. You don’t know if you look like you’ve seen a ghost or if you’ve become one.

–

Due to unforeseen circumstances, your second date with Brandon had to be rescheduled. A literal rain check. He’d sputtered out numerous apologies over the crackling phone line, saying how the picnic he had planned didn’t account for a torrential downpour. You promised him that it was fine, that you didn’t even wanna leave the house in this weather. You didn’t think anyone would want to leave the house in this weather, which is why you grew shocked at the sound of the doorbell ringing.

Then you promptly remember that this is Hawkins and that anyone or anything could be behind that door. Grabbing the old wooden bat you keep under the couch for emergencies, you inch toward the door. The frantic ringing of the bell matches the beat of your heart. Peering through the peephole, you sigh in both relief and frustration before flinging the door open.

“Are you insane?!” You practically scream at the soaking wet boy. “You scared the shit outta me.”

Steve stands in the threshold, shaking his head like a dog would to get all the water out. You flinch as the droplets inevitably fall on you. The fine mist and wind that he’s brought in with him chill you to the bone.

“Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly.

“How did you even manage to get this wet in the twenty feet from the street to the porch?” You ask, peering behind him to look for the familiar maroon vehicle. It isn’t there.

“I walked here.”

You balk at him. Sure, Steve has been known to act recklessly from time to time, but never without reason. Instead of taking the time to berate him for being so stupid, you take one look at the soggy shivering boy and shut the door, turning on your heel towards your bedroom. You don’t need to look behind you to know that he’s following you.

“C’mon, you’re gonna catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes.”

You rummage through your drawers, managing to find a t-shirt and sweatpants that you had stolen from him long ago. Now is as good a time as any to give it back, right? Stuffing the items in your arm, you thrust them into Steve’s hands and direct him to the bathroom. He doesn’t need direction. He knows the floorplan of your house just like he knows you–all too well.

While Steve is in the bathroom, you go to shut the drawers that you had left open in the rush to find him something to wear. The bottom drawer has always had a problem, getting stuck at the most inopportune moments. Lifting it just a little, you slam the drawer back into place which causes the contents on top of your dresser to shake with the force. The silver picture frame falls on its face and you go to place it right side up.

It’s a photograph of the two of you from last summer. Robin had pointed the camera at you and at the very last second Steve grabbed you and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal in delight. The memory stings. You almost want to put it face down again so that you don’t have to be reminded of what once was. Instead, you’re interrupted by the sound of a lock turning and quiet footfalls on carpeted floors.

The moment Steve steps into your bedroom, you’re drenched in nostalgia. It’s been months since you’ve seen him like this–standing in his pajamas in your bedroom. It’s moments like this that are the hardest. The ones where you can feel how everything and nothing has changed. It feels like relief and restriction.

You realize you’re still standing in front of the dresser and go to sit on your bed. You need to put space between you and Steve. He has this insane gravitational pull and you know that if you stay around him like this for too long, you’ll end up back in his orbit.

He steps cautiously around the room like he’s afraid of stepping on a landmine. One wrong move and everything could blow up. Standing in front of the dresser, he takes the dreaded picture frame into his hands. He’s still using a towel to dry his hair when he finally speaks.

“It’s a good picture.” He says, simply. The pads of his thumbs wipe away the layer of dust that coats your sunbleached faces.

“It is.” You manage to choke out. “Why are you here, Steve?”

He places the picture frame back down on the dresser. It’s perfectly angled towards you. The ghost of your smiling face taunting you in your own bedroom.

“It’s funny, y’know?” Steve lets out a mirthless laugh.

“What is?”

“We broke up and the only person I wanna talk about it with is you.”

All of the air has been sucked out of the room. Steve has always been good at taking your breath away.

“I mean, I get it. I get why we broke up. I do.” He lets out a deep breath before continuing on, not giving you a chance to interrupt. “Except, I don’t. I can’t wrap my head around how one day we were fine and the next day we weren’t. I know that I’m not good enough for you–I’ve always known that. I guess I just wanna know when you finally figured it out.”

His words make you ache. A tightness blooms in your chest and spreads all the way down your arms to your trembling fingertips. You want so badly to reach out to him. He’s on the other side of the room but he might as well be on the other side of the world. You don’t know how to bridge the ravine that you’ve put between the two of you. You know for him you’d make the leap, uncaring of the abyss below. The thought scares you so much that your fists tangle in your bedsheets, hoping for something to keep you from falling back in.

“The last thing I wanted was for you to feel like you weren’t good enough for me. You’ve always been good enough, Steve.”

You can tell from the shake of his head that he doesn’t believe you.

“I thought that maybe you just needed a little space, a little time. Then I have to watch you go on dates and move on like it’s easy. Like the fact that we’re not together anymore doesn’t eat you up inside.”

“It’s not easy! It’s killing me!” Tears collect in your eyes, blurring your vision. “I don’t know why I can’t just be happy with you. I want to be happy with you.”

“What are you so afraid of?” Steve begs, his question punctuated by a boom of thunder and a flash of lightning.

You found solace in the eye of the storm. Once the storm passed, you didn’t know what to do with the wreckage. Calm didn’t provide comfort. Instead, it only reminded you that there was likely another storm to come. Steve has always been better at picking up the pieces and patching things up. You didn’t want to become just another thing he had to fix. So, you pushed him away.

He still came back.

This time he brought the storm with him.

“I’m afraid that the minute I actually enjoy everything, it’ll all get taken away from me.” You confess, roughly wiping away your tears.

Steve crosses the room and kneels in front of you. His hair is still slightly damp, a stray strand hanging in front of his forehead. You brush it out of the way and he catches your wrist, placing a kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He murmurs, lips still brushing your skin. He says it like a promise. You wish the words were tangible, that you could close your fist around them and hold them close. “Tell me what I can do to fix it.”

The words simultaneously endear and exasperate you. Here is this boy who loves you, sitting in front of you telling you to let him love you. Here you are, about to tell him that he can’t.

“What if you can’t fix it, Steve? What if I’m unfixable?”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he takes both of your hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles.

“Then I’ll still love you anyway.”

Steve looks up and the clouds part. You’ve been so caught up in your doom and gloom, that you’d forgotten what it felt like to see the light of day. You lean down, closing your eyes, pressing your forehead to his.

“Why?” The question comes out watery and wanting.

“I can’t help it.” He breathes out.

You understand the feeling.

You bridge the gap, uncaring of the abyss that lies below. You’d fall through eternity if it meant you got to do it with him. His lips feel exactly like you remember them–like home. He kisses soft and slow, hands anchored at your hips as if to prevent you from floating away. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, there’s uncertainty in his eyes. It fades away as soon as you lean back on the bed, pulling at his sleeves and dragging him with you.

The night is composed of soft apologies and even softer sighs, accompanied by the din of rain against the roof. It isn’t until far into the night that the storm finally subsides, leaving the pavement to glow in the morning sun.

Waking up next to Steve is a revelation. You don’t know how you ever survived without it. He’s all sleepy smiles and tired eyes, drowsily pulling you closer to him. Resting your head on his chest, you’re soothed by the rhythmic thump of his beating heart.

“Y’know, you didn’t have to walk in the rain just to say that you wanna get back together. You’re so dramatic.” You joke, hoping that it isn’t too soon to start poking fun.

His chest rumbles with laughter, the reverberations quelling your fears.

“In my defense, it wasn’t raining when I started walking.” He says, voice still thick with sleep. “Besides, you love it.”

You smile contentedly to yourself, not offering up a response besides a hum of agreement. He’s right. You do love him. Rain or shine.

likes are appreciated, comments and reblogs are cherished ♥️

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington blurb #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #mimi wrote ✍️#steve harrington fic #stranger things

2K notes · View notes

ashrayus · 28 days

Note

PLSSSS MORE FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS OF JASON TODDDD!

DUDEE!!!! really happy u asked but also omg this got long agaiN who would have thought (!) i added summaries this time tho :)

here is part one of my fic recs XD

andd heres the new ones!! pls give them some love if u read them :D

Dick and Jason:

how lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill by sunlitlemonade

There were blood drops dripping down his fingers to the ground. The puddle was big enough for it to have spread around more than half the tub. His breaths shuddered, they were shallow and waning. But he was breathing and Dick’s world centered around that.

starting strong with Angst go read all of sun’s fics i always die and get revived <333 pls mind the tags on this one

cast on/cast off by hellsreluctantheir

“This is surprisingly non-destructive for Jason,” Dick comments, lightly. In the parking lot, Jason pulls a grenade out of one of his pockets, yanks the pin, and tosses it through the roller door and out of sight, before tearing out of the parking lot in chase of the truck. “Well, for a minute there,” Dick amends. He takes a step back towards the alley the batmobile is parked in, giving Bruce a quick glance. “We following? “No,” Bruce says, as the grenade goes off. “He’s cleared the warehouse. We can get into the office.” Dick sighs again. But Jason knows he can call in if he needs help.

time loop!!! read most of this writer's fics and fell in love with them all,, go read fr

bloodstained by hellsreluctantheir

“I know where the clinic is, asshole,” Jason said. The wad of gauze he was using to keep pressure kept slipping against his shoulder. The knife had caught the space between two panels, split to allow movement. Lucky shot. “Ok, let me make sure you get there without passing out from blood loss,” Dick said, a deliberate evenness to his tone, like he was doing his best to accomodate someone who was being completely unreasonable. Shithead. “I’m not going to pass out,” Jason said, ignoring the fact that he was actually feeling pretty unsteady on his feet. He caught himself with his good shoulder on the entry to the bathroom, took a deep breath. “What would Daddy Bats think if he knew you were here, trying to help me?” “I assume something like, ‘Wow, Dick, you’re such a good brother, trying so hard to make sure Jason is ok even when he’s being a complete idiot about it,’” Dick sniped.

heres another one from them. jasons scars and dick. andd another one next

brothers in arms by hellsreluctantheir

It wasn’t like none of them went undercover. Jason practically lived there. And he’d punch anyone who tried to make it a sob story for him, to cluck over the times he’d been alone in a pit of vipers, act like it was some tragedy. But given half a minute to think about it, Dick somewhere completely cut off from everyone but Bruce, no allies on hand, surrounded by enemies. Angry as he was at the lie, there was something about that he just fucking hated. or Thinking your brother is dead and then finding out he's been alive the whole time really has a way of making you rethink the relationship.

Shelter by Ptelea

Two safe houses, two nights dealing with the aftermath of fear toxin, multiple conversations, several meals. Written for Sholio's September 2020 Comfort Fest for a prompt from Musesfool. Warning-wise, there's nothing graphic here but there are definitely references to past canon trauma for both the characters.

the way they are written here <33

Rotten Fruits by couldyoublameme

“I’m fine,” Dick assured gently, sitting up slightly. “Just a bad night, is all.” It’s a familiar phrase he has used so often. Whenever the addiction crawls back into his mind, a parasite he can never truly get rid of. The family knows what it means. Knows what the ‘bad’ is. Knows what to do. “Oh,” Jason says. “Why?”

absolutely murdered me. pls do mind the tags

You Can Do Better Than That by AlexaAffect

All Jason could hear was his own ragged breathing. He desperately gasped for air, each breath more exhausting than the last and his lungs and throat burned with the effort. In. And, he needed a second longer with every breath he took, out. His arms had been suspended for the last… 15? minutes? Jason had quit keeping track of the time, he’d been too preoccupied trying to hold himself upright, trying to ease his position, switch it up, anything to prolong the guaranteed death. “Red Hood?” That was Dick’s voice. Huh. So they had found him fast enough. Or alternatively; Dick finds a kidnapped Jason shortly before he asphyxiates.

this fic is just oddly comforting to me idk. very precious

Equivalent Exchange by Lysical

Apparently favors don't expire on death. --"What do you want, Dick?" "For you to be happy, Jay." Dick leaned over and pinched his cheek. Jason reached up and swiped at him, scowling. "And world peace."

ADORABLE and fun

Just for Now by Lysical

Jason was back in Gotham and the timing couldn't be worse for him to need assistance on a case. He didn't want to see any of the Bats and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Nightwing was the worst option for Oracle to pick to help him out.

To Reconcile by CasualDanger

“Babs slapped me at your funeral.” Jason goes to laugh, but it’s just a cough and his mouth barely even twitches up. “She hated me in that moment. I mean, really, really hated me, like I did Talia after I found out Damian had died. And I wondered,” his voice cracks, eyes glassy now, “did you hate anyone when I was gone? Because I was gone?”

he ain't heavy, he's my brother by someplacewarm

Dick's been putting off meeting with Jason for a while now, but when a distress call comes through, he has no choice but to answer. Or the one where Dick and Jason talk, fight, get high and cuddle. In that order.

making gold out of it by vmkhoney

Dick talks himself back down on the bathroom floor, clinical and detached. (For someone whose primary skill is manipulating his body, it’s not very often that he feels connected to it.) - Or, five years after Blockbuster, Dick begins teetering on the ledge of processing what Catalina did to him.

a wonderful dick grayson fic, and jason is there being a good brother. mind the tags

What Hurts You by blueyeti

Dick comes to Jason's aid when he's injured in a fight, or at least he thinks he has.

jason has no scars!! and thats also sad

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. aka; How Dick Grayson finds out Jason Todd is alive. A story about healing.

a rather long one for my standards XD (very short attention span) but this made me sit down and read. very fun jason

Bruce and Jason:

Saltwater and Desperation by bacondoughnut

Jason's not sure how he even manages to get himself out of the harbor. He's just glad Bruce is there when he does. Not that he'll ever, ever admit as much out loud.

same writer, love this jason (and bruce) so much

Insomnolence by navree

It's not like he slept much as a kid anyway; this is just a return to the status quo. He's not overly tired, and even if he's been sleeping less than his already limited amount throughout April, that's still not any of her business. Bad memories are already bad enough even before they spend the next few years in the aftermath becoming nightmares.

navree being The bruce and jason writer for me all of their fics are so o(- (

Ash Into The Wind by navree

This is his dad in there, the first man he ever called Dad, at any rate, and even after everything, booze and jail and Bruce and death and then death again, there's never going to be a part of Jason that isn't gutted that he's dead. One night, a wraith in a red helmet slips onto the grounds of Blackgate Penitentiary to steal one specific thing.

another one from them

Trapped by lurkinglurkerwholurks

BatFam Week 2018, Day Two. Prompt: Trapped Yes, the prompt is "trapped" and it's a Jason fic. I'm so, so sorry. (Not really, though.) Please see tags for potential triggers.

binge read this writers fics recently they write them so nice

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies

Bruce swallows, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he takes another, steadying breath and presses both hands to his face. He just needs a moment. Needs to remember where he is, what year it is, that Jason is not actually fifteen, he only looks like he is. This is temporary. This is just a temporary problem that needs to be contained until they can change Jason back. This is not a repeat of events already passed. This is not a second chance.

Jason and Batfam:

Names and Neapolitan by Muddell

“Goddamnnit Robin,” Hood is there, pulling him into his arms. Robin sees that helmet, he sees the green eyes, the dark hair, he sees open, gray, Gotham sky, and hears tires squealing, and then he sees stone. He sees the cave. Bruce is there. Alfred is there. Dick is there. And Hood is there. Robin rolls in and out of consciousness. He reaches out, snatches the smell of copper and the touch of leather, and he holds Hood’s hand and he does not let go. He’s allowed to say it now. “Jason,” he says. “Don’t leave.” Or, following Dick telling Tim about his older brother, to Tim actually knowing him.

read a couple fics from this writer all so good!!!

Six Ways to Sunday by Muddell

Jason catches Duke hiding a headache and says, is anyone going to deal with that?

same writer!! really love their jason

Settle Down and Sleep by OberonBronze

A series of vignettes about seeking comfort. Damian tries his hand at being a comfort animal; Tim shows up at Jason’s place for an impromptu sleepover; Jason bonds with his older brother after a damaging fear toxin trip; Dick and Bruce have a long-overdue conversation.

really liked jason and dick in this :)

Tuck Me In by OberonBronze

Bruce Wayne and his long-standing habit of tucking his kids into bed.

think how great it is to fall asleep (and how terrible it is to wake up) by mikkal

Jason was fifteen, barely five foot, and underweight for his age when he died. When he came back to his body, suddenly he was too tall, too scarred, too much, too different. And he just... never got used to it. (Or: 5 times a Bat noticed/discovered his body dysphoria post resurrection)

Stranger Danger by alchemistsarego, whumpinaheartbeat (alchemistsarego)

There was never one particular moment that Damian registered that he was losing consciousness. Everything simply flashed from one thing to the next, even though some part of him understood that time had been passing in between. He had been sitting upright, rolling his eyes at something someone had said, then he was on the ground being pinned by some unknowable weight. All at once the weight was gone again, replaced instead by something not only lighter, but much warmer too. A blanket? No, a jacket.

jason and others:

Past Experience by Rookblonkorules

He thinks he might be dying. Again.

clark and jason :)

Bats in the Belfry by endlessnepenthe

Hal idly wonders how long he has before he's found. Probably not very. The Bat's freaky like that. (Or, Hal goes to Gotham and discovers that Batman's brand of freaky isn't exactly one of a kind.)

jason and hal jordan??! and slade? and magic.

#jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc #jason todd fic #fic rec

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kth1fics · 8 days

Text

I Won't Hurt You (M) | MYG

I Won't Hurt You

● Pairing: Ghostface!Yoongi x Female Reader ● Genre: Horror, Smut, Rated R | 18+ ● Tropes: scream au, pwp, established relationship, slight angst ● WC: 1.7k ● Warnings: party vibes, dark-themes (murder), weapon mention(knife), mentions of blood, oral (f), fingering, unprotected sex, does it make sense? No. does it have to? No, etc ● Beta: n/a (i don’t talk to anyone so i have no betas) ● Summary: You find out that your boyfriend is Ghost Face, but he doesn't want to hurt you. ● Author’s Note: Who would have spontaneous sex with their boyfriend after they unalived someone? This fic is completely out of the blue and I love the Scream franchise! Please leave any feedback or comments on a reblog, post, or even my ask box! ● Song Recommendation: To The Stage by Asking Alexandria

Masterlist ◈ Mail Box ◈ AO3 ◈ Ko-Fi

All night, you have been looking for your boyfriend in Namjoon’s house. What started out as a bopping Halloween party soon turned into a ghost town. Even when the place was filled with bodies and costumes it was hard to find Yoongi. Now, you can’t even find a single soul.

It isn’t until you quietly crept up the staircase towards the hallway do you finally find someone.

A shadowed figure crosses through the light in a room. You hesitantly peer into the doorway to see someone wearing a full ghost face costume, looming over the bloody body of Namjoon. The figure swipes the blood clean from a bowie knife as they stare down at his lifeless body.

The scream lodged in your throat doesn’t surface as your hand covers your mouth. You slowly back away from the door but fate has other plans for you as the wooden stair creaks from the weight of your step.

Nerve endings on high alert, you watch as if in slow motion while the stranger turns their head and acknowledges you. Your voice comes forward in a scream as you begin down the stairs, feet stepping as fast as possible while the stranger is fast on your trail.

The heavy push of their body tackles you like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Swiftly landing you to the ground and pinning you to the floor.

Helplessly you yelp, “Stop! Please, no!”

The ghost face keeps you beneath him as their clothed hand covers your mouth. They pull off their mask and reveal themselves to you, leaving you undoubtedly stunned. It’s your boyfriend, Yoongi.

“I’m going to remove my hand,” he warns with a warm tone. “Please don’t scream.”

Yoongi is straddling your hips as his body keeps you from moving around. He watches the way your eyes shift into fearful tears as he drops his mask to the side.

You nod slowly and Yoongi takes his time pulling away from you. He stands towering over your terrified state with the knife still in his hand. Yoongi waits for you patiently to sit up as you stare at him.

Traces of blood stain the front of your cowgirl costume, transferred from Yoongi’s costume. You were wearing a matching set with Yoongi when you arrived tonight, but the man you look up to now looks completely different from what you remember.

His black hair is disheveled across his face with traces of sweat gathering at his temples. He’s partially out of breath and covered in a stark black gown. There’s a wild, puzzled look to his eyes as he leers down at you.

Fear runs through you forcing yourself to uncontrollably tear up. You can’t run, he’s proven that to you already. You’re stuck right here in front of a murderer. He leans down and tries to console you with a hug but your arms shoot out and reject him.

“Y/n, baby, please –” he hushes, “Don’t cry! It’s okay, I won’t hurt you!” Yoongi’s voice is as soft as he can possibly make it. His hand comes to brush aside a portion of your hair while he continues to speak, “Baby, let me see your face. I can explain.”

Gently, Yoongi manages to pull your arms toward him as he cradles your cheek with his hand. You feel the smooth gloved thumb run across your skin and wipe away the running tears.

You look at him in disbelief as he holds onto you. There’s still the sweet, beautiful, caring man before you. The one you know all too well. His warm eyes remind you of the Yoongi you love, the man you put your full trust into.

“W-why?” Your voice breaks with emotion.

The question could be meant for a multitude of reasons, but he knows exactly which question you are asking. And for an answer he cannot explain simply.

Yoongi stalls momentarily, his mouth hanging open for a split second before closing. He pulls you into a tight hug, “You weren’t supposed to stay here.” Your body stiffens immensely as you feel Yoongi’s arms around you. His chest beats against yours, both your hearts racing erratically. “Jenna was supposed to take you home,” he mumbles into your shoulder.

“I couldn’t find you!” You hiccup with pain in your voice.

His warmth allows your body to relax against his. Your panic allows you to hold onto him tightly as your body shakes with adrenaline. It feels as if your heart is shattering within you as reality settles.

Yoongi pulls away from you so he can look into your glossy eyes as you weep with sadness. His fingers lightly grip your chin and force you to face him. “Baby, I love you. I’ll never ever hurt you, I promise!” He kisses your lips tenderly before pulling you closer.

“I’m so sorry you are in the middle of this,” he murmurs as he kisses you again. “You weren’t supposed to see this stuff. I was trying to protect you.”

Yoongi’s lips follow the length of your neck, leaving warm kisses on your skin as his hands roam your body. He places his bowie knife to the side, away from the two of you while he continues to let his apologies leave his lips.

You allow Yoongi to lay you down on the hardwood floor. He maneuvers to your chest, using his fingers to pull down your cowgirl top and bra enough to release a nipple. His lips attach to your sensitive bud, using his tongue to flick across the fleshy piece until it hardens. Yoongi’s body slots comfortably between your legs as he slithers down your front. He disposes himself of a glove, freeing his digits from the leather fabric just before reaching the hem of your skirt.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips mutter against your lower stomach. His bare fingertips dance along the inside of your thighs while they descend closer to your core, “I love you so much.”

Yoongi looks up at you for confirmation before he continues forward. You nod slowly, reassuringly, for him to know you trust him. Quickly, Yoongi’s face buries and disappears in between your legs. His fingers pull aside whatever panties that are in his way and licks a solid strip up your folds before sliding two of his deft fingers inside of you.

You clench at the sudden intrusion, but it’s a welcoming presence nonetheless. Involuntarily your legs squeeze the sides of his head, hands shooting down to grip the raven black locks atop his head as a lewd moan leaks from your mouth.

“Fuck,” you curse as the back of your head thuds against the floor below you. You tug hard on his hair as your hips buck into his face.

Yoongi frantically picks up the pace with his fingers as his tongue swivels around your clit, lathering the nub with his saliva as he presses knuckles deep into your walls. He leans up from you abruptly, fingers still running a ‘come-hither’ motion inside of you as his parted mouth glistens.

Yoongi fumbles with his belt underneath the ghost face cloak before pulling the blasted cloth off of him, revealing the same cowboy outfit that you match with. He slides back on to you, fingers pulling out of you quickly to shove down his jeans and boxers past his hips to free his hardened cock.

You feel yourself dripping the moment Yoongi removes his fingers. He uses your essence off his fingers and lathers it along his cock before giving it a quick few tugs. Yoongi’s desperate when lining himself up with your entrance, being mindful to pull your panties as far to the side as possible. The moment his cockhead kisses your hole he leans down to connect his mouth to yours.

He pushes into you completely, forcing the two of you to let out a sudden and satisfied moan. Yoongi lifts your leg up to allow a deeper penetration, thrusting slow and deep as he bends you to his will.

“You feel so good, baby –” he hums as his head nuzzles into your neck.

Your fingers curl on his clothes, leaving small scratch marks through the material.

“H-Hold on to me…” Yoongi picks his pace up fast. His hips snap into your body, pulling his cock all the way out just to dive it right back in at full force. The lewd sounds of skin slapping skin struck his ears, your beautiful whines mixed with pleasure fuels his ego. He craves more with every single thrust he puts into you, gradually fucking you harder and faster until your body is shifting across the hardwood flooring.

“Y-yoongi, I’m gonna –” A broken moan interrupts you when his teeth latch onto your neck, leaving a harsh mark that undoubtedly will become a bruise. Your body jolts in his grasp while your eyes screw shut.

“Cum for me,” Yoongi’s voice is laced with lust, a small smile tugging at his lips as he feverishly piles his cock into you. “You feel so fucking good,” he grunts between his words, every thrust stronger than the last. It helps build your orgasm up to the very brim before it snaps, “Cum for me baby, I love you.”

You can’t form a full sentence as his thrusts become more desperate, reverting to you chanting the word ‘yes’ like a mantra as your sweaty body jolts underneath Yoongi’s weight. Your moans grow louder, the heightened sensation in your lower region breaks as your climax washes over you in an exciting rush. Yoongi’s hips began to slam into you. Your cunt clenched around his cock like a vice grip, the flexing muscles spasm inside you squeeze him so tightly it leaves Yoongi gasping.

He groans loudly as he pulls out just in time and comes hot white ropes on top of your panties. Yoongi slowly rocks his hips against your body as his high dies down, his mouth leaving open kisses across your neck until he reaches your mouth.

“Baby,” he huffs. “Look at me.”

You turn to see the mirth in Yoongi’s eyes. Both of you lay there with spinning heads, breath labored, and bodies cooling off.

“I won’t do anything to hurt you,” he sighs. “I’ll never hurt you.”

#i won't hurt you #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x reader #ghostface!yoongi #ghostface!suga #suga x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi pwp #suga pwp #bts smut #bts pwp #kth1 #yoongi x you

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mischievousmoony · 2 months

Text

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟻 ⟡ 𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; you and james complete side work at the end of your shift . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁2.1k

⟢ warnings/tags: coworker!james, coworker!marauders, anxious!reader, not rlly proofread

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: dropping lore in this part ig

"I don't think this restaurant is fancy enough for this to be necessary," you huff, polishing what seems like your millionth spoon.

You're sitting at the rickety break room table, polishing silverware and rolling sets of them into cloths. James is across from you, looking at his reflection in a butter knife.

"No one who eats here is going to care if there are a few water stains on their spoons," you grumble. You're in a bit of a bad mood, this task being the only thing keeping you from going home.

"Nate wants this place to be fancier than it is. Always has," James replies, neatly arranging his knife with the other utensils on the cloth in front of him.

"Always, huh?" you wonder, "Has he always been the manager?"

"As long as I've been here."

"And how long is that?"

"Ah," James pauses in the middle of rolling his napkin, counting in his head, "Technically five years."

You stop in the middle of polishing a fork, looking up to meet James' gaze. "What? Really?" you ask.

James shrugs as if it's nothing, responding, "Started as a busser when I was seventeen. The only person who's been here longer is Remus."

You don't understand the relevance of the comparison, pointing out, "Well, he's older."

James looks at you puzzled, "Remus and I are the same age."

You put the fork down entirely, gaping at James. "Remus is twenty-two?" you ask, your tone conveying your shock.

"Yeah," James says slowly, furrowing his brows, "You didn't know that?"

"No. He looks at least a few years older."

James tilts his head side to side, pondering your comment. "Maybe a little," he admits. "That kitchen wears him down."

You look puzzled as you straighten out the fork you had dropped down on the table, thinking about the revelation that still doesn't quite add up to you.

"If he's our age how in the world is he already a head chef?"

James looks as if he's trying to recall the answer, but comes up short.

"You'd have to ask him. He was hired before me and I guess I never thought to ask that."

"He was a head chef at seventeen?" you ask, eyes widening as your shock doubles.

"No! No, he just worked in the kitchen. Think he was head chef by twenty, though."

"Oh..." you trail off, thinking that makes much more sense than your initial impression. But not by very much. "Still, wow. What about everyone else?"

James' eyebrows raise curiously as he starts polishing yet another spoon.

"What do you mean?"

"They've been here how long?" you clarify.

"Ah. Sirius started about a month after I did. Did you know he started as a server?" James shares the details like it's hot gossip.

To you, it basically is. You can't imagine Sirius doing anything besides bartending at this restaurant.

"Really?"

James smiles at the way your eyes light up in surprise and slight amusement. "Yeah," he confirms. "He absolutely hated it, but doing that he got to train with the bartender before him."

You nod understandingly. It makes sense, you suppose. Bartenders don't just appear out of thin air. You either have to work your way up the ranks or receive formal training, and if you had ever given it any thought, you would have assumed the former.

It dawns on you that you haven't given much thought to your other coworkers at all. Besides what you've naturally found out over the handful of weeks that you've worked here, you don't know much about anyone besides James.

"And the others?"

James blows out some air, thinking, and he takes two rolls of silverware and begins using them as drumsticks against the table. You smile a little at the action.

"Whenever I became a server I recommended Pete for my old busser job. That was probably four years ago."

James had told you stories about him and Peter before, but you wonder how long they've actually known each other.

"How did you know Peter?"

"Known him since primary school."

"Huh," you express your surprise quietly, and James continues on.

"The next hire was Marlene," James smirks as he recalls something. "Actually, she's the reason Lily and Mary were hired."

"Did she recommend them too?"

James chuckles, shaking his head as he explains, "No, Marlene was always complaining about too much testosterone in this place. I think five.. six months after she started, she told Nate that a customer said that they thought management must be sexist because of the lack of girl hires."

"Did someone actually say that?" you ask skeptically.

"No," James laughs, "He totally bought it though cause he hired Lily and Mary a week later. Worked out great for them in the end. You know they go to uni in the city? They’re both here to support themselves through it.”

Your bottom lip finds itself between your teeth as you think about how long everyone has worked here. They’ve all had years to get to know each other. You have already been feeling like an outsider, so learning this just amplifies that tenfold.

James puts his makeshift drumsticks away when he notices you getting lost in thought.

“What’s on your mind?”

Your eyes flash to him, startled out of your train of thought. Shrugging, you try to brush it off and return to your duties to the silverware.

“C’mon, I always know when you’re getting lost in that head of yours,” James says with a teasing yet affectionate tone.

You purse your lips, knowing the chances of James letting this go are slim.

"I just… I don't really know much about them at all I guess. Do they..." you trail off, apprehensive to admit your insecurities.

"What?" James probes gently, softening at your hesitation.

"I’m worried they don't like me,” you admit.

"What!? Why? You’re great! Why wouldn’t anyone like you?” James says it earnestly without a hint of hesitation, and that alone makes you feel a bit better.

You keep your hands busy with the silverware, your eyes focusing intently on the water stains you polish away so that you don’t have to face James as you explain.

“I feel like I haven’t made much of an effort to get to know them. I was nervous, I guess, to talk to new people. Now I’m even more nervous because it’s been so long and I haven’t even tried. They’re going to think–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” James stops you from snowballing into a self-deprecating ramble, placing a hand over yours across the table, also stopping the way you’re polishing a spoon to death.

He dips his head down to try to meet your eyes, which are trained intently on the table. “No one thinks anything,” he says patiently. “Actually, you know what I’ve heard? I’ve heard them say that you’re kind. Maybe a tad shy, but that’s not a bad thing!” The last few words tumble out in a rush, James being worried that you’d take it negatively when he really finds your timid nature so endearing.

Your gaze slowly shifts to meet his eyes. “It’s hard for me to warm up to new people,” you admit, your voice low.

James absentmindedly strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, “You got on with me just fine.”

“You’re different,” you say before you can give it much thought. You would’ve bit your tongue if you had.

“How am I different?” he asks, his eyes twinkling with something you can’t quite place.

“I-I don’t know you just are.”

It’s true, you’re not sure why but after your first day you were already comfortable with James, more than comfortable if you’re being honest. He quickly became your favorite part about this job.

He simply accepts your answer. Normally, he’d say something witty or teasing, but he finds himself at a loss for words.

The conversation fades into silence, neither of you knowing how to proceed, both overwhelmed with confusing feelings.

James can’t stop looking at where his hand rests over yours, not knowing how to retract it. Not wanting to.

Meanwhile, you search your brain for something to say, something that would change the subject. You don’t feel the need to keep talking about this anyway. Although, you’re not sure if you feel better about the situation with your other coworkers or if you’ve just been distracted from it.

“So, five years, huh?” you start.

"Technically," he emphasizes. He slowly retracts his hand as the conversation takes on a more casual tone.

You had barely even noticed his hand there with how natural it felt, but now that it’s gone your hand almost feels cold. You distract yourself by rolling more silverware.

"What does that mean?" you ask.

"I, er, pursued other things for a little while. Didn't work out, so I ended up back here."

You can’t help but wonder what he means, so you ask, "What things?"

James stammers, him now the apprehensive one.

"Sorry,” you say quickly, “I don't mean to pry."

"No, it's okay,” James waves off your worries, “I was playing rugby."

“What, like, professionally?” you ask, not expecting him to say yes.

“Er, yeah," he admits, twirling a butter knife in between his fingers.

You freeze. “Wait. Seriously?”

“Yes,” he chuckles airily.

He notices how your mouth is slightly agape, twitching as it forms the shape of words which never leave your lips. He can tell you’re wondering what happened, but you’re too polite to ask.

“I hurt my knee,” he continues, purposefully avoiding the specifics, “so ended up back here.”

Your face crumples in sympathy. "Oh. Oh, I-I'm sorry," you say, genuine compassion in your tone.

“It’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it," James says honestly. His career was brief— barely even got a chance to start— and while he'll always wonder what could've been, he's not angry about the way his life is turning out.

"So what about you? What would you be doing if you didn't work here?" James suddenly asks you.

"I never went to uni," you say, thinking of Lily and Mary— your age and likely almost done with their studies. "I would've liked to. I don't even know what for."

"You still could."

"Yeah, maybe," you say tentatively, rolling you're last set of cutlery. "That's all my side work. Want me to help with yours?"

"No, you get out of here, I'll be alright," James assures, not wanting to put extra work on your plate, recalling how annoyed you've been with this task.

You nod, standing from the table to collect your things from your locker. You bid him goodbye as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

"I'll see you tomorrow, James."

"Bye, love," he says fondly, waving with a fork in his hand as you go.

On your way out, you pass Sirius, giving him a small wave and a barely audible "goodnight" as he joins James in the break room.

"Night, doll," he calls down the hall as he turns into the room.

Sirius has a wide, knowing smirk on his face when he locks eyes with James.

"Rolling silverware?" Sirius asks, his tone dripping with his amusement.

James shrugs, "Yeah, so?"

Sirius tilts his head, chuckling, "I thought your side work was to prep garnishes today."

"Ah," James fumbles with some silverware as he responds, "I finished that ages ago. So, I offered to do Lily's side work."

"Oh, did you?" Sirius says with mock surprise.

"Yup. Just doing a favor for a friend," James grins innocently.

"Or trying to get some alone time with that work crush of yours."

"I do not have a work crush!" James quickly defends, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He almost feels guilty, Sirius is at least right about the alone time part. James still misses having you by his side as a trainee, but after you're conversation today he feels bad about stealing you away from your other coworkers.

Sirius raises his hands in the air, "Alright, mate. Whatever you say."

"You're a prat. Why don't you come help me with this?"

Sirius looks incredulous at the suggestion, "I'm not the one who volunteered to do extra work!"

James rolls his eyes, picking up one of the many forks he has left. But truth be told, he didn't quite mind having to do the extra work— spending time with you made it well worth it.

Sirius snorts at the sudden lovesick look on James' face when he gets lost in his thoughts, and makes a mental note to wager a bet with Remus tomorrow on how long James will last.

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runnning-outof-time · 8 months

Note

K, congrats on 3.5K and I was wondering if you can make something about “Why’re you looking at me?” and it’s Tommy or John having a crush? AAAAAAA

Thanks for sending this in, E!! @writers-hes I’m sorry it took me so long to write!! I just had to go with Tommy for it because (if you haven’t noticed already) he’s my fave to write for! The thought of this made my giddy haha. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

Strictly Business

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: smoking, drinking

Word Count: 1186

Summary: When a business associate doesn’t show, Tommy and (Y/N) make the most of a dinner…and try their best to keep their true feelings under wraps.

“Do you really need me here?” (Y/N) asked for the umpteenth time as she sat down across from Tommy at the table they’d been led to. She didn’t expect to be dining at some posh establishment today, but for Tommy Shelby, she’d drop her plans and do just about anything if he asked it of her.

Yeah…not the best mindset logistically thinking, but what can she say…she was smitten with him. Problem was that he hardly gave her the time of day with it came to that. Strictly business. That’s what they agreed on.

“I do,” Tommy nodded, fishing a cigarette out of its packet so that he could perch it between his lips and strike a match to light it. He cleared his throat then as he crossed his one leg over the other and sat back, looking around for the person he’d be meeting.

“Guess that’s that then,” (Y/N) commented, more so to herself than anything, as she grabbed the napkin and draped it over her lap. She then began to peruse the menu because hey, if she was going to have to be in this fancy establishment, she was going to sample their wares.

The waiter came over to their table moments later and (Y/N) took her time to chat with him, asking him what he recommended, what was popular, and what would pair well together. She must’ve took around ten minutes trying to figure out the dish she wanted to order. Once she did, the man turned to Tommy. He kept it simple, ordering a whiskey.

“You’re really not ordering anything?” (Y/N) asked him after the man left.

“I figured that if I got hungry, I’d take something from your plate,” he answered honestly, a grin teetering on his lips.

“Bold of you to assume anything will be left,” she countered, her grin matching his.

Tommy just pursed his lips at her statement, trying to stop his grin from growing bigger than it already was. He then accepted the whiskey from the waiter and brought it to his lips, thankful he had it to hide what he was really feeling. Strictly business.

Time passed as the two waited for the business associate to show up. Nothing much was said, but nothing really needed to be said. Tommy and (Y/N) had become accustomed to sitting in silence, and more often then not, they found it peaceful. It was comforting in a way.

About a half hour had passed now, and there was still no appearance of said business associate.

“Is this man coming?” (Y/N) questioned, her brows furrowed.

“He said he would be,” Tommy dismissed her question, sipping on his third whiskey. The fact that he was sat here instead of out making sure everything else was running properly kind of irked him. The only reason he wasn’t marking it as a complete bust was the fact that (Y/N) was there.

“At least we get a meal out of it,” she commented as the waiter brought her dinner out. She smiled up at him as a thank you before surveying the delicious plate of food that was placed in front of her. A wider smile grew on her lips as she looked back to Tommy. “Well…at least I got a meal out of it.” She couldn’t help but correct herself, her teasing statement making Tommy roll his eyes at he fought his grin back.

(Y/N) dug into her dinner, making sure to make an exaggerated comment about how absolutely delicious the food she chose was. She was enjoying her dinner so much that she momentarily forgot he was even there with her.

Which is why when she looked up to see his eyes focused on her with the slightest smile dancing on his lips, she thought her heart was about to jump out of her body. She’d never seen Tommy look at her in that way. It was almost as if his eyes were twinkling, the shade of blue present in them just about making her breathless.

“Why’re you looking at me?” she broke the silence. While she didn’t want to ruin the reverie that had been created the second their eyes met, she had to say something or else she might have combusted on the spot.

“Hmm?” he simply hummed, and (Y/N) wanted to groan. He’s purposefully making this hard on me.

“Why’re you looking at me like that…like you just were a few seconds ago?” she repeated her question.

“What was I looking at you like?” he asked, his brows now raised.

“Don’t make this tough for me, Tommy,” she huffed, her heart going at about a mile a minute. His expression didn’t change. (Y/N) huffed again. He’s really gonna have me spell it out to him. “You were looking at me like…I don’t know, like you were dreaming or something,” she tried her best to explain it.

“I wasn’t dreamin’,” he shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Well you looked like it,” she shot back, sending him a glare that a smile was trying so hard to break through. Tommy lazily shrugged off the conversation, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. (Y/N) shrugged also, focusing - well trying to focus - on her meal once more.

“I was watchin’ you,” he stated after a few minutes had passed.

“Oh yeah?” (Y/N)’s eyes shot up to match his once more.

“Yeah,” he affirmed, taking a deep drag from his cigarette and blowing the smoke out slowly before continuing, “I enjoy watching you. Brings some quiet to me mind.”

“Oh yeah?” she answered with the same question she asked before, although her voice was softer this time around.

“Yeah,” he nodded again, leaving it at that, even though he wanted to say so much more to her. He wanted to tell her just how much she had helped him since he met her. Tell her how he couldn’t get her off of his mind, even if he tried. Strictly business.

The conversation ended there, and (Y/N) tried her best to focus back on the meal in front of her. Something was burning in her mind though, something that she couldn’t shake no matter how hard she tried.

“Tommy…?” she spoke again after a few more minutes had passed.

“Yeah?” his eyes were on her in a second. They never really left.

“There was never someone coming to this dinner, was there?” she just had to ask him.

“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he answered with a vague statement, although his eyes told her a different story. See what Tommy didn’t know was that (Y/N) had gotten pretty good at reading his eyes. She’d never call him out on the truths he brushed over though.

Instead she pursed her lips to hide her smile. “Strictly business?” she checked with him after a few beats of silence.

“Strictly business,” he answered with a nod, ending the conversation there. His answer was short and succinct, but his eyes told her differently.

*tags in reblogs so that hopefully they get sent out

MASTERLIST

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tbaluver · 2 months

Text

What Video Game/ Genre The Hashira's Play- Demon Slayer

a/n: just a silly idea bc my head is filled with gaming brainrot esp dress to impress

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy! <3

genre: silly

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Giyu:

He's honestly a chill gamer and mostly just there to have fun and make friends. But never really chats with anybody unless someone talks to him first.

He duo's with Sabito a lot on games. Whatever games Sabito recommends to play, he'll play it. Sabito mostly carries him in FPS ( first person shooter ) games.

One time Sanemi and Obanai were on the enemy team and they won. He would be confused on why they would curse him out every time in the chat saying he was to 'easy' or that he sucks.

Sanemi:

Plays a lot of video games especially during his childhood. He would share his DS or Gameboy with Genya a lot during their childhood.

Mainly plays FPS games or any combat games. Literally anything competitive.

Mostly duo with Obanai in FPS games. He would curse Giyu out with Obanai anytime they would be on the opposing team.

Tries to play with Genya and he tries his best to not rage but eventually he does either at the game or at Genya. Ironically tells Genya not to play games like that anymore because people in the lobby can be toxic.

Would get in trouble a lot from yelling so much at the game at night.

Obanai:

Has played Overcooked with Mitsuri many times. He does not yell at her at all and is super patient when they do not get any stars on the hard levels. They would plan strategies together on how to defeat a level.

Sometimes plays FPS games but only when Sanemi asks him to get on. Will type mean things in chat with Sanemi whenever he sees Giyu on the opposite team.

Misturi:

Has so much fun playing overcooked with Obanai and they are so close to finishing the game. Would make comments about how if she were to drop food in her restaurant she would not serve it to her customers or how she would love to make a recipe like that in real life.

She would play cooking games like Cooking Mama or Good Pizza, Great Pizza. Would literally give a generous amount of toppings on Good Pizza, Great Pizza and would already have 5 stars in her restaurant.

Plays other games like Episode or The Sims or Just Dance. Would have the cutest family in the coziest home that she made on The Sims. She would also be really good on Just Dance.

She would also play Otome games because men irl suck and Obanai won't confess to her yet.

Tengen:

He would be really good in Osu! or any rhythm game. Has also played Fortnite Festival and has the top score in all his friends lists.

Duo with Rengoku often in FPS games. He would also have a big ego when playing any competitive match. "I'm a god in this game"

Rengoku:

Plays a couple FPS games and duos with Tengen.

Plays with his little brother and helps carry him in any game he needs. Usually just loves to spend time with his little brother and plays whatever game he wants.

Played with Sanemi and Obanai a couple times. Sanemi would yell in the mic and have his ears ringing so Rengoku wouldn't notice how loud he actually talks on the mic until Sanemi yells at him.

Shinobu:

Not the biggest fan of playing video games on her free time.

I don't know why but I think she could have fun playing horror games or likes playing chill games like Stardew Valley.

She tried to play an FPS game and played the role as a healer and never picked up the game ever again.

Muichiro:

Would have a hand me down of a DS or gameboy and have loved video games every since.

Have played a lot of video games and plays a lot of games that are trending.

Right now he plays a lot of Minecraft and Roblox.

Teaches the Kamaboko Squad on how to play. They would have a realm and try to beat the enderdragon together.

Gyomei:

He's blind but I feel like the kids would include him in an game they play. I feel like he would like playing story games where choices matter. He would carefully pick the choices and actions so he can save all the characters.

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gummygowon · 1 year

Text

sugar | jeong yunho

word count: 2.7k

genre: smut (minor dni!) just another pwp, cowboy!yunho x waitress!afab reader

warnings: dom!yunho x sub!reader, unprotective sex (booo!), creampie, big dick yunho eheheh, slight humping lol, petnames (sugar, honey, sweetheart, doll)

author's note: don't know why this took light years for me to finish BUT SHE'S DONE!!!! and just in time for the cb >:) i will say though that this was written even before the cb was announced so i will take full credit for cowboy!ateez like i literally manifested that shit with this

in your quiet, little hometown not much went on. even the gossip that got around town was drier than the tumbles of weeds that ran through the streets.

recently, however, they were rumors about some lone cowboy who came in late last night. you were sure that the lone cowboy would wound his way into the saloon at one point of his stay here even if he was just passing by. what man could resist a glass of beer?

and you were right, well, you're pretty sure you're right. in the middle of your shift, some tall man stalked into the bar and quietly sat down in the back of the saloon. his eyes and the top half of his face were covered by the large black cowboy hat that he wore leading everyone curious as to what he looked like.

"do ya think that's him?" you ask your coworker miyeon as the two of you wipe down glasses and cups behind the bar.

"the mysterious cowboy who wandered into town last night?" she asks leading you to nodding, "well, let's look his tall man sitting in the back of a saloon and everyone is looking at him like he has horns growing out of his head so i assume so."

rolling your eyes at miyeon's sassy response, you find yourself taking a peek to look at the new visitor. from where you're standing and with the man's big cowboy hat blocking eighty percent of his face, your curiosity grew to as what he looked like. did he have a scar on his face? a beard? or maybe a mustache?

"if you're gonna keep looking at him, you may as well take his order." miyeon comments on your long gaze on the outsider.

"absolutely not!" you retort back but miyeon is already pushing you out the bar with your tray, "remember to smile! it gets ya more tips!"

you contemplate flipping off your coworker but decide against it and give her a nasty glare as you walked off to the back of the saloon.

as you approach closer to the man, you see him shift in his seat but he doesn't look up at you until you clear your throat.

the man finally looks up at you and you feel your breath gets caught in your throat. the man had no facial hair or any nasty scars on his face. to your surprise, he was well-shaven and his eyes were full of life along with his plump lips that sat prettily on his face.

too entranced by his aura, the man had to tilt his head and raise an eyebrow at you for you to start functioning again. "my apologies sir, "what can i get ya started with?" you ask, trying your best to calm your heart down before the stranger in front of you could hear it beating out of your chest.

he lets out a soft chuckle at your flustered state, "what do you recommend sweetheart?"

your heart stopped for a solid second at the pet name. "well, if you want something a little stronger i recommend our house's whiskey. but if you don't want something as harsh, our draft beer is great too sir."

the smile from his laugh stays on his face, "you can call me yunho, sweetheart. callin' me sir got me sounding old."

your face turned redder than the apple tree behind the saloon. "my apologies, yunho" you say, your eyes glued onto the floor.

another laugh erupts from yunho's mouth as he watches you flush with embarrassment. "what's got you so wound up so tight sugar? relax a bit for me sweetheart, you can do that, can't ya?"

the grip on your serving tray loosens as you let your shoulders drop.

"good girl." the cowboy praises as he leans back his chair, the big buckle on his black belt reflecting as it shines from the candlelight. "now, a glass of whiskey will do just fine for me sugar."

"i'll be right back with that, yunho." you curtsy at him before rushing to the bar.

miyeon!" you whisper-shout at your coworker, who somehow had disappeared behind the counter.

"so what does mister outsider look like?" miyeon asks, popping up from the bar like a jack-in-a-box. "i bet he got a nasty scar on his face!"

"he doesn't have a scar i can tell you that. but that man is fine as hell."

"no shot, he really is?" she asks, attempting to peek over you to get a look at the stranger.

"yes, he is and he keeps calling me sweetheart," you whisper at your coworker.

"he keeps calling you what?!" miyeon shouts into the saloon causing a few eyes to look over at the two of you.

"miyeon!" you whisper-shout once more. "anyways, he wants a glass of whiskey so would you be a dear and get me some."

"i think you should be the one filling up his glass, if he called you sweetheart."

"oh for christ's sake, miyeon. just give me the damn whiskey."

"who spit in your tea this mornin'" miyeon grumbles as she puts the glass down in front of you.

you roll your eyes at her response, before whisking away to the back of the saloon once more.

"where's ya whiskey," you place the glass down on the table before giving him a curtsy.

"thank you sugar."

in the distance, you hear another customer calling you over. reluctantly, you turn your attention towards the voice leaving yunho behind.

"sweetheart," yunho calls out to you, attention fully back on him again. you tilt your head waiting for him to finish his sentence, " you gonna be busy tonight?"

it took everything in you to not give yourself to him right away but godamn it was tempting. "i got some things to do tonight, but come tomorrow. i might not be busy."

you watch as the man slowly nods before downing the rest of his glass. "alright then sugar, i'll see you tomorrow."

yunho doesn't know how long he's been sitting in this damn saloon but he's been there too long and he can't keep slowly sipping this whiskey for another hour.

the cowboy arrived roughly around the same hour as he did last night assuming the flustered waitress he met would have the same hours again but as of right now he was wrong. yunho recognized her coworker and was tempted to ask about your whereabouts but decided against it. he didn't want come off as a creep or desperate.

usually, yunho didn't mess around with any of the girls in the small towns he visited. he was strictly a business-only type of man but something about you was just so enticing. a one-night stand wouldn't hurt right?

"wanna refill on that sir?" a pretty voice asks him luring out of his thoughts.

"i'm alright, i'm just," yunho looks up midsentence to see you standing above him. "waiting on someone..." he trials off, his eyes shamelessly wandering to places they shouldn't.

"really?"

"actually, they're here now." he answers absentmindedly, eyes still drifting towards your chest.

a blush makes its way to your cheeks as you hug the tray closer to your body, "well, let me know what they want, i'll be right back."

yunho only ordered one more glass from you as he waited for you to get off. he had planned to invite you back to his hotel room sometime during your shift but even with the alcohol running through his veins, he couldn't bring himself to talk to you.

once the night had began to wind down and most of the patrons had cleared from the saloon, yunho wandered to the bar to pay for his tab. he watched you gossip with your coworker, your backs to him as words carelessly left your mouth. he didn't know what the topic of the conversation was but yunho did catch some pretty interesting things.

"y'know what they say," your coworker leans into you with a knowing smirk. "save a horse, ride a cowboy!"

"miyeon!" you shout at her, giving her a slap on the shoulder. "we still have customers here!" you look over your shoulder to exaggerate your point only to see the cowboy she was referencing.

"hi sir! what can i help you with?" you ask, elbowing miyeon to get back to work.

a small laugh came up yunho's throat as he walked up closer to the counter with his hands on his belt, "just wanna close up my tab that's all."

"right, we'll get that for you. what'd ya order again?"

"just three glasses of whiskey."

"that'll be one hundred won."

"alrighty then." yunho reaches into his pocket to fish out the money. before placing on them on the table, he leans over the counter beckoning you to come closer which you do, "i can teach ya how to ride a real cowboy."

you froze, thighs rubbing at the suggested thought. "o-okay."

the corner of yunho's lips quip into a cocky smile as he watched you turn red. "i'll wait for ya then sugar. don't keep me waiting too long."

you have never cleaned up and closed so fast in your life. the tables were wiped and the floors were mopped. even miyeon had sped up with her own chores after you agreed to tell her what the mysterious cowboy told you.

before leaving the saloon, you take a moment to fix yourself up in the mirror. once deeming yourself presentable you take a deep breath before walking out.

the crisp, night air embraced you forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself as you look for the tall cowboy. "yunho?"

as on cue, the man emerged from the shadows with a cigarette between his lips. "you finished a lot sooner than i expected."

"there wasn't much to do."

"ahhh," yunho hums as he stomps on the cigarette to put it out, "ready doll?" he sticks out his arm for you to hold.

humming in response, you wrap your arm around his much larger one. the warmth radiating him his body instantly warming you up as you walked in the cold.

yunho made some effort to get to know you to refrain from taking you right now. it was hard to avoid thinking about he was going to fuck you tonight.

when the two of you arrived at yunho's room after passing by the innkeeper who merely raised an eyebrow at you, there was a thick tension in the air as you (im)patiently watched yunho unlock the door.

once unlocked, yunho stepped aside to let you in. the tension grew even thicker when he came inside. it was like a waiting game to see who would make the first move.

with hungry eyes, yunho stalked towards you, his figure looming over you as you eventually backed into the door. "i won't bite, sugar."

as soon as those words left his mouth, you closed the gap between you two attacking his lips mercilessly. yunho fought back with equal fervor, his tongue clashing with yours as he kept a finger under your chin to keep it titled.

pulling back for a breath with your chest heaving, yunho pulled away to your dismay but stayed close enough to whsiper, lead you to the bed inviting you to sit on his lap. eagerly, you throw your legs around him without a thought. your lips return to his in an instant, this time even messier as your teeth clashed with his. yunho pulled you higher up on his lap so that your clothed core came into contact with his raging hard-on. you gasped at the contact, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

yunho pulled away to catch his breath making you whine at the loss of his lips. he immediately shut you up by leaving soft kisses all over your neck and dangerously venturing toward your chest. soft gasps quickly turned to moans once those sweet kisses turned to love bites. one of your hands finds its way to yunho's hair, pulling every time he added another hickey. subconsciously, your hips began to rock against his.

a tut comes out of yunho's mouth as he stops his attacks on your neck, "patience sugar."

a pout forms on your lips as you beg with your eyes for the cowboy to do something about the ache in your lower half. "please,"

"you gotta use your words, doll." yunho teases as he matches your pout.

warmth begins to spread throughout your face, "please, let me ride you."

"there's my good girl," he praises a smile replacing the pout on your face.

his hands went to work at his belt, swiftly removing the chunky leather along with his pants as well while you unzipped your dress and drawls underneath. once you were fully unclothed, you shyly looked at yunho for guidance who was already waiting on the bed, a hand lazily pumping at his cock.

"come 'ere sugar," he motions at you with his free hand.

obediently, you climbed onto the bed, both legs swinging over each side as your hands shyly press against his lower stomach. yunho watches you intently as you glide your slick cunt over his aching cock before finally sinking down on him. once you've fully taken him in, your big doe eyes look down at yunho for help.

"you can move sweeheart." he encourages you. god you were going to be the death of him. how could such a pretty thing like you be so clueless? it made yunho want to ruin you more.

you nodded your head as the pain in your lower half turned into sweet pleasure. giving an experimental roll of your hips, you watch as yunho's bites down on his lip harder and mumbles a quiet "fuck".

"just like that sugar," yunho praises, his hands snaking around your waist to help him ground himself.

with yunho's praise, you fell into a steady rhythm of rocking your hips back and worth. whimpers left your mouth as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten.

yunho could feel your pussy clench around his dick as you neared your high. he was close well but he needed more to be able to come. the cowboy was patient enough to let you figure out a rhythm but now he needed to cum. the hands on your waist still you for a moment as he guides your hips in a up and down motion. this new pace had you seeing stars as the repeated motion of yunho's big dick breached your walls every second.

"fuck yunho," you moan, "feels so good."

yunho smirks at your fucked out state, "does it baby?"

you hum in response, not even being able to form a single word. god, he was fucking you so good.

the cowboy started to bounce you harder on his dick as he bucked his own hips to meet yours. your moans spurred him on as he chased his high. lord, you were addicting. he could listen to your pretty sounds all day long.

"yunho, i'm-fuck, so cclose!" you whimper out with your eyes shut.

"wait for me sugar," yunho grunts slamming his hips even harder as his hands gripped your waist so tightly that there was sure to be a mark tommorow.

a whimper leaves your lips, warning yunho that you may not be able to hold off your orgasm. "you can be a good girl, can't you?" he groans in between thrusts.

"yes-fuck," you cry out, nails scratching at his toned chest.

"i'm close sugar, aalmost," yunho groans, his fingers pressing even harder onto your hips as he continued to slam his hips into yours.

"fuck!" you groan as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel as yunho finishes. his hips stutters as he empties his load into your cunt.

yunho watches as the cums leaks out from you and onto his lower stomach and he couldn't help but buck his hips one more time. a whine leaves your lips as your pussy aches from the overstimulation. "sorry sugar, you're just too tempting."

you collapse onto yunho's chest, arms tired from holding yourself up for so long. his body felt warm as yunho's arms wrap around you, encasing him in his embrace.

"good job sugar," yunho praises once more, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "i think ya just need one more lesson from me doll. what'd ya think?"

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